#gotta get them streets squeaky clean

[materialistteacher]

Why is it everybody calls you a hero and thanks you for your service and praises you one minute, but the second you torture a racist ex-Confederate traitor to death and cut out his heart or tie up and maim a train robber (to death) they think you’re some kind of evil, psychotic, sociopathic killer?

Like my guy I’m a good person. Maybe you just need to expand your definition of “good” to include the hardcore do-gooders who’ve been around 90 years and don’t play games anymore.

[jangofctts]

Surely, You’d Burn the Same (Batman/Bruce Wayne x fem!reader)

PART TWO  PART THREE PART FOUR

Rated: Mature, Explicit 18+

Word Count: 6.2k

Warnings: smut, sexpollen (dubcon), explicit language, handjobs, oral (both male and female), vaginal fingering, multiple orgasms, mentions of violence, brief mention of an IV/needle, Bruce is touch starved lmfao (lmk if I missed anything please!!)

a/n: ok while consent is given on both parties, it’s has sex pollen-esque features so it is dubious consent!! just be aware of that! ANNYWAY PLEASE ENJOY (also thank u sm to the lovely @jango-fettish for helping me come up with this idea)

Fuck Lieutenant James Gordon.

Fuck him and his stupid penchant for glorifying vigilante justice. And fuck yourself for coming back here in this shithole of a city called Gotham. You’re a goddamn forensic analyst. You’re not supposed to be involving yourself with shit like this.

But alas, trouble always has a way of finding you.  

It nears six months into your job when you start to hear the rumors. Missing money from evidence, smudged fingerprints, evidence destroyed. Staff meetings about bribery, pay-offs to cover up the ferocious criminal underbelly of Gotham. The list goes on and on. Half the CSI staff eats out of the hand of some crime figurehead. The Penguin mostly—dude’s got a thumb in every pie scattered across the city. You don’t entirely blame them—the pay is shit and the job shittier. If you didn’t have the familial ties that you do, you’d be in the same bind as them. 

You keep your head down. You don’t want any part of it.

It still doesn’t stop the nicely folded manilla envelopes from finding their way into your desk. Encoded notes, promising pay if you jack up some idiot official’s incriminating evidence. You just sweep them into the shredder and say not a word. It’s one of the reasons you’ve risen through the ranks so quickly—the captain's favorite—squeaky clean and determined. Always on scene for the high profile cases, sidestepping the dangerous undertow that nips at your ankles.     

Like you said, trouble always finds you.         

James Gordon is lucky he’s a family friend or else you’d have blocked his number ages ago. He has a bad habit of calling in the middle of the night, hyped up on crappy coffee and a lead he needs followed. You figure he supersedes your captain with these sorts of things because she too has been corrupted—or maybe Gordon just wants you to succeed. Both are plausible options. 

And so, when you get the jarring phone call in the buttfuck middle of the night that scares that absolute bejesus out of you, you’re not surprised. The context of the call, though, that’s a little different—

“I gotta show you something, kiddo.”

Puffy eyed from sleep and a tick away from strangling him, you throw on a light coat and lo and behold, Gordon is there to pick you up. He reveals nothing once you get into the car. You watch the darkened city roll past, the buildings gleaming and hazy in the light drizzle. Streetlamp reflections churn golden swirls onto the concrete streets—the only constellations that have learned how to shine through the light pollution.   

The place he brings you is an abandoned tower. Construction litters the surrounding area. You shiver when you exit his warm car. “Jesus, Gordon. Is this where you’re gonna dump my body?”

He shoves his glasses up the bridge of his nose and punches the buttons to the elevator. Who the fuck pays for electricity here? “Shut up, kid.” 

“Touchy.” 

Your curiosities are soon put to an end. 

Gordon is the caretaker of the so-called Bat-Signal. You should’ve known. You’re a bit peeved to be quite honest, that you were never close to even finding out his secret. Whatever. 

Even more startling is the fact the Batman himself pays you a little visit atop that windy tower. 

Like a shadow he melts into view. You don’t know any better than to draw your gun and point at the dark mass of muscle and a walking armory. Gordo slaps his hand over the barrel, forcing you to lower the weapon. “Woah, woah, woah—he’s on our side, Blue.”   

Striking blue eyes bore into yours as your heart hammers away inside your chest. He takes a heavy step forward, then another, and another until he stands nearly toe to toe with you. Christ, he’s tall. 

“Why is she here?” 

His voice is rough as stone, soft in cadence but powerful nonetheless. He breathes authority and power—alluring. 

Gordon grasps your shoulder in support. To be quite frank, you don’t follow the rest of the conversation nor remember the reason why Gordon introduced you—something along the lines of another ally in case something goes wrong. Another familiar face to rely upon. Or maybe it’s for your sake—another line of determent to convince you from straying too close into the hands of bribery. 

All you do is stare, and Vengeance stares back. 

It works. 

Or at least, Vengeance allows you to tag along as Gordon’s sidekick. The months go on like this. The bribes increase and instead of shredding them you pass them off to Vengeance—a trail he can follow to find those responsible. You and Gordon help as much as you can, because fuck. No one else is doing anything about it—crime keeps surging and corruption runs rampant. It’s a tragedy that only The Batman dares challenge. 

And that tragedy bites back. 

It’s another one of those frantic, midnight calls. It’s different this time—urgent. 

“Get your ass to the crime lab—we got a situation." 

Dutifully you rush to dress and haul ass to the labs. You go around back, swipe your keycard and fly down the emergency lit stairs. You heart leaps into your throat as your foot skips a step—

You tear through the dark office and beeline towards the captain’s office. The door is already open—Gordon is throwing a half-lucid Batman onto the tiny couch shoved on the side wall. He looses conciseness the minute his back hits the cushions. “The fuck happened?” 

You fly over and shove your fingers under Batman’s sharp jaw to find a pulse. It races under your fingers. Gordon shakes his head. “No clue—found him close to the station, so I brought him down here.”

You pull out a pocket light from your coat, lift up his eyelid and shine it over his eyes. Doesn’t look like he has a concussion. “I told you, Gordon. I’m not a doctor, the closest thing I got to a medical degree is my EMT.” 

“He’s not bleeding,” Gordon relays. “We just need to watch him and get him outta here before anyone sees.”  

Fine. Fine. You can deal with that. 

You sit up and tear through your bag of pilfered medical supplies. You slide on a set of gloves, grab an IV line and reach for Batsy’s limp arm. Gordon helps wrestle off his glove. You slide the needle into his battered hand, and lay the baggie onto the back of the couch. You sigh and peel off your gloves and throw them into the wastebasket under the captain’s desk. “You’re lucky no one’s down here.” 

“I know,” Gordon says. “We’d both get the boot, huh?”

You snort. “You wouldn’t.”

You stand and peruse the lab in search for a vitals monitor. Perks of sharing the building with the morgue, you suppose. You wheel the machine into the office, peel off the sticky parts and attach them to the insides of his wrist. They’re new, no wires—like a blue tooth sort of deal. The machine flips on—the beep of Bats’ pulse fills the room. 

When Bats shows no signs of waking in the coming moments Gordon bails. You don’t blame him. This is boring. “You alright if I head out, kiddo?”

You wave your hand in dismissal. “Yeah, yeah—get outta here, old man.” 

Gordon chuckles at this, ruffles your hair and swiftly exits. “Call if you need anything!” 

The next time you’ll be calling him will probably be in jail. Can you go to jail for helping a vigilante? Is that a thing? Y’know what, doesn’t matter. Precisely why you never went to law school. Fuck that noise.   

Even so, you wait for Vengeance to wake.

An hour ticks by—your boredom grows rampant. With a sigh you pull out your pocket light and waddle over to the couch. You peel open his eyelids and curl your lip at the greasy, black residue that comes away from his eye. It reminds you of that shitty Halloween store makeup. Hm… 

Suddenly, his hand shoots up and wrenches your arm away—throwing himself off the couch and narrowly punching the living daylights out of you. “Fuck, man—chill! It’s me!”   

His lips are drawn in a snarl, fists clenched. Though once he sees you, takes account of his surroundings he drops back onto the couch like deadweight. You scramble over, readjust his IV and recheck his vitals. His heart races—not entirely alarming just yet. 

“Blue,” he rasps, throwing out your name to assure that it really is you and that he’s safe. It’s not your real name (he knows that too), it’s just a label you coined over the years that began in middle school. Little Crybaby Blue—got too over zealous with the crappy hair die and went to school covered in it. You were tinged blue for weeks. He doesn’t know that though. Hopefully…     

“Yeah, it’s me, Bats,” you assure. “Gordon called me.”

Leather creaks as he nods. He squeezes his eyes shut and grunts as he shifts into a more comfortable position. “Only place I could get to.”  

You bite your tongue before you can offer your place as a haven if he ever needs. That would be brushing elbows with unknown territory. Dangerous.

He tries to sit up again. Your hand whips out. “Nuh-uh. Just rest for now. Gotham can go a few hours without her Batboy.” 

For the first time since meeting him he listens without a fight. He only clenches his jaw and glares up at the water stained sealing. “How long?”

You frown. You rub the bridge of your nose and sigh. “Until the IV is finished, deal?” 

It’s half empty. Bats agrees solemnly. 

Boredom weighs heavy on your shoulders once again. His silence has never bothered you, but even so, it’s a little awkward just sitting here, kneeling on the floor. Your fingers find his tattered cape that spills onto the floor, thumbing the rough fabric. Fireproof probably—    

Batty makes a noise low in his chest. You bite you cheek, scrambling for an excuse. “Haven’y you heard Batboy? No capes,” you quote, tugging on the ends of the tattered cloth. You’re met with a blank, glacial stare. You roll your eyes. “Y’know, like Edna Mode? The Incredibles?” 

Still nothing. 

You tut. “You’re no fun.” 

His breath is stuttered as he inhales, readjusting himself to better ignore you. Ok, yeah, maybe that joke was stupid, but it doesn’t warrant a cold shoulder. Irritation pricks at your insides. Fucker—is it really that hard to humor someone and their dumb pop culture references? “You look like shit, by the way.” 

“You have terrible bedside manner.” 

Your lips purse. “Bummer.” 

And then it all crumbles into disaster. 

His heart rate continues to spike, a terrifying crescendo of rapid electronic beeps that pushes your own adrenaline into overdrive. Fuck, you are not prepared to deal with this at all. The fuck are you supposed to do with Batman’s dead body? Throw it in the dumpster? 

You scramble through the office’s supply of bottled drugs. Most of it is useless—embalming fluid, isopropyl alcohol—like you said, useless shit. You flit over to your boss’s desk and tear through the bottom drawers. A big black binder resides in the left one—score. You fling it open and find the vial of clear liquid that’ll stop him from having a fucking heart attack. You rush over, syringe in hand and grab for his IV—you startle as his hand launches out to stop you. 

“No.”  

You grimace and wrench your wrist free. You make a grab for it again—he swats you away. The syringe tumbles to the square of carpet under the couch, the vial rolls beneath it. “Dude—I’m trying to save your life! You’re gonna have a goddamn heart attack.”

“No,” he snarls again. He grits his teeth, and rips the IV line out of his hand. What the fuck. At least the fucking heart monitor is still attached. “You’re wrong.” 

“Oh, I’m sorry, Mr. Batboy,” you sneer, throwing your hands up. “I didn’t know you were also a doctor.”  

His mouth dips into a grim line. He curls into himself and dips his shoulder, the cushions creak as he turns to face the back of the couch. It doesn’t really work—the couch is small and Batboy is fucking massive—like cramming a G.I. Joe doll onto Polly Pocket furniture. It’s a little funny.   

A low groan reverberates through his wide chest, legs pulling closer to his middle. You worry your lip between your teeth—dude is clearly in pain, you just have to figure out a way to get him to accept your help. You sigh and kneel onto the carpet. This is exactly why you vowed never to go into the caretaker side of things—it’s frustrating. Nonetheless, you hover a hand over the plated armor lining the space between his shoulder and upper arm. Batboy flinches. 

“C’mon, Bats,” you urge, softening the edge of your voice to dull the bite of your irascibility. “Let me help you.” 

The silence is deafened by the beeping heart monitor and accompanied by his terse, staccato, breathing. You whisper your hand down to the crease of his elbow. Even through the thick fabric, the heat of his skin is scorching. He’s running a fever. Batboy grunts and pulls his elbow closer to his middle. You don’t let go.

“You can’t,” he presses. “Not with this, Blue.”

You clench your jaw. “You don’t know that.”

He’s holding his breath like he’s scared of it leaving his frayed lungs. And you…you’re biting your tongue—you cannot take a crowbar to his jaw and pry the answers you want out of him. That’s not how it works—not with him. People will never understand the true essence of what this man is—fuck—you barely know either. But what you do know, is that there’s a tragedy hidden beneath his tongue and broken promises that are stapled to his martyr red heart. He’s blind to his own ambitions, in search for payment without realizing that the aftermath of revenge will bury him alive. He’ll never change and you never expect him to do so. 

It’s just the way things are.

Much to his chagrin, however, you will not be letting Batboy die on your boss’s office couch tonight. You prod him a second time. He’s divulged that he knows exactly what’s got him in this state, you just need to coax it from him. “Tell me. Please.”       

Something akin to desperation lining your words, cracks his resolve. He grunts and turns his head. His eyes are a small ring of blue, blotted out by his dilated pupils—shit. That can’t be good. Bat’s tongue rolls out to wet his chapped lips, inhales—his heart rate spikes again. Jesus, that’s too fucking fast—   

“Iceberg Lounge,” he says. He’s starting to pant. “I got dosed with something.” 

Your brows furrow. A list of substances scroll through your brain—how to treat them, what the symptoms are that matches his. “Like cyanide? I have—”

“No,” Batty shakes his head and lifts his gaze to stare at the water stained ceiling. The muscles in his sharp jaw flex. He shifts. “Pheromone based.” 

Your face twists. The hell does that mean? You’re about to ask him to clarify when the pieces click together. Oh.  

Rapid heart rate, dilated pupils, skin feverish—

Batty’s been drugged with an aphrodisiac. 

The seriousness of the situation rams into you like a freight train. You’ve been on three cases already that involved this shit. High up political players dosed with the mystery aphrodisiac after hiring escort services from the Iceberg Lounge. Each one of them found dead, hearts all but exploded from the effects of the drug. No matter how much they tried, bringing themself to their own end never worked. You press your palms into your face, bitter panic welling inside your chest. 

Oh fuck—fuck, fuck, fuck—   

Calloused fingers gently curl around your wrist. They pry your hand free from your face. “Blue.” 

“Don’t say it like that,” you hiss. You’re sure his fingertips can pinpoint your raging pulse—just as fast as his thrums. “Shut up.”  

His chin tilts down, a question swimming in his gaze. 

“And don’t try and convince me you’ll end up ok,” you say. “Because you won’t—not this time. Not unless…” 

Not unless you give him that relief. It’s not…it’s not like you aren’t attracted to him. Christ, the minute you met him you were smitten. You’d jump Bats’ bones if he offered, but not like this. Not something tarnished and born out of necessity. You stare at the wine red rug under your knees and bite your lip. Your skin itches from where Bats still holds your wrist.     

“Blue,” he whispers, wheezy and suffering. “I’m not afraid to die.” 

He’s bleeding forgiveness, keeping your hands clean from his choice to go out this way. You can’t—your conscious would never be free of the guilt. The black stain of knowing you could’ve remedied this with ease but instead chose to end the reign of Vengeance, based on what? Your stubborn propriety and a guessing game covered in a glass floor of eggshells? That’s not fair—not fair to him or whatever legacy he’s trying to build in Gotham.        

You suck in a deep breath of air and muster your courage. Carefully, and without haste, you roll your wrist out of his hand and slowly bring it to cup his stubbled jaw. He inhales sharply. “I’m not gonna let you die, Batboy.” 

His eyes flutter as you smooth your thumb up the sharp line of cheek. Fuck, he’s sensitive. The leather on his singular glove creaks as his fists clench, the heart monitor races away. You’re running out of time. “I didn’t want it this way.”

Yeah. You didn’t either. “When you don't get what you want, you start forgetting what you need, Batty.” Bats lips pull into a deep frown—he hates when you call him that. He wants to argue. You don’t let him. “It’s ok—trust me.”

His eyes bore into yours, striking against the blackness of his mask and the dark grease paint he wears beneath it. It feels as though an eternity passes before he’s nodding. He’s found whatever he was looking for in your eyes and deemed it enough. An inkling of your desire maybe—

The rapid-fire beeping distracts you once again. Cursing, you jump to your feet and silence the damn machine. When you return Bats has arranged himself into a hunched sitting position, leaving enough room for you to sit and be within viewing range of his vitals displayed on the screen. 

You gingerly sit. You swallow and turn to him. His chest heaves like he’s just run forty miles, bare hands clenched at his sides to dispel the shaking—a tightly wound mess at the mercy of your salvation. You scoot closer and risk skirting your hand over his armored knee. You bite the inside of your cheek to quell your racing nerves. This is so fucked up. You offer him a weak smile. “We’ll start small and go from there, ok?”  

He grunts his affirmation. You nod and lean over his broad chest, running your fingers over the pockmarks in his armor and all the way down to his belt. His eyes are glued to your face, unwavering as you wrestle his heavy utility belt free from his waist. His thigh jumps under your hand. You slide your palm up and inward towards the bulge pressing against the front of his pants. 

Batty sits up, ramrod straight as your hand squeezes him through his pants. A rush of arousal surges in the pit of you abdomen—he’s not a small man in any way, shape, or form. You bite the inside of your cheek and press onward, pawing at the waistband of his pants. Bats lifts his hips as you tug both his pants and boxers down far enough his muscled legs that it won’t hinder your goals. If you had it your way, there’d be a lot more teasing involved.  

Fuck—not like he needs it.

His cock is well past hard, flushed an angry red at the tip and leaking precum against the base of his abdomen, straining towards his navel. Fuck—you want him bad. You look up at him, he’s already staring. In a flash of movement, Bats captures your hand and guides you to his throbbing cock. It’s a knee-jerk reaction—he folds into you as you grab a hold of his length, his rapid pulse reminding you that you’re on a time crunch here. Internally you despair over the fact you can’t enjoy this—him—for longer.       

This is about him—not you. 

You huff at the added weight draped onto your body, armor and all. His masked face tucks itself into the crux of your shoulder. He mumbles a gruff apology that tapers off as you squeeze his cock, searing and heavy in your hand. You wiggle closer and breathe against his neck, moisture collecting onto the black leather. He smells like rain. “Does it hurt?”

“No.” 

You remain like this for a few moments as he pants onto your skin, his left hand clenching the back of the couch so hard it might rip. Your palm, slick with his dribbling precum, glides easily up and down his thick length. Shit, your fingers barely meet—

His head lifts, two digits press on the underside of your chin, tilting up—   

Vengeance kisses like he’s won the war. Brutal, devouring, victorious, grateful. He’s spent years fighting and it’s as if only now he’s stopped long enough to catch his breath. Even though he’s actively racing towards death. His hands grab at your arms, your clothes, your hair. It’s like you are the spoils of battle and he fears losing you to the enemies that snap at his heels. He kisses like a man afraid that this will be fleeting, insubstantial and will abandon him. The desperation you think, is a side effect, but it excites you anyhow. 

You part for air. “Everything’s gonna be alright,” you whisper, voice gentle. Tonight you are his tether. And he the disbelieving survivor, jittery and wounded but safe. “Let go like this. It’s ok.” 

He abandons your lips in favor of latching his teeth to the tender flesh above your collarbone—it stings. You whimper and pump your hand faster, the obscene wet sounds of it filling the room. You rub your thumb under the tip then back down to fondle his balls. 

Bats groans weakly. “Blue—”

And then quite abruptly—so abruptly that it surprises him more than it does you—he lets go.

Batty cums hard into your hand, right here at your place of work, armor half ripped off, leaning the entirety of his weight onto you. A ragged gasp tears through his clenched teeth and he stiffens against you, balls pulling up tight under your palm. Sticky warmth immediately coats your fingers and the inside of your wrist in throbbing spurts. He slams a wild fist into the couch, growling your name, your true name, before his voice trapezes into a gritty, wordless snarl.

You mouth wet kisses over the exposed skin of his jaw, caressing the swollen head of his cock as it pulses in your grip. His orgasm is long and achingly drawn out, draining his body of his rapidly expending energy with every thick rope of cum you’re able to milk out of him.  He swears and shudders his way through his release, until finally the exhaustion wins him over, slumped onto you as you struggle not to collapse under his weight. Fuck—it’s been a long time for him. You release his half hard cock and rub gentle circles into his protruding hipbone, your other hand smoothing down the back of his helmet to cup his neck. A dark thrum of pride runs through you veins—how many could say they could get Batman himself to submit like this—flash his colors of vulnerability. 

You’re betting on zero.  

Your eyes slide past the dark mass of him and onto the heart monitor. It seems to have done the trick. His pulse drops to a near normal level. “Good?”  

His warm, wet tongue, laves over the teethmarks he’s left. His fingers gripping the back of the couch unlatch and float around your waist, drawing you into a loose semblance of a hug. You feel his lips move as he mumbles a hushed; “Thank you.” 

The cadence of his gravel rough timbre causes your heart to ache for him. You’d never name whatever this is as love because love has a twin sister named power—and when you give somebody one, then you give them the other. You understand that it’s in Batman’s best interest to keep both. There’s no part of him that can be torn apart, no soft spot, no cavity—it’ll get in the way. 

But he’s still learning. 

Batty groans and finds your hand that’s still coated in his sticky cum. “M’sorry.”

His breathing kicks up a second time, the firm line of his body curling curling into himself. Hot puffs of air scorch your skin as Bats feebly raises his head. His chapped lips tickle your cheek, a request lodged in his throat. He needs to cum again—it’s written plain as day on the heart monitor and the way his body holds itself like a tightened spring. He won’t ask, so you press your lips to his and bridge the gap between you once more. 

Batman moans into your open mouth, allowing you to slide your tongue over his. His cock is rock hard again, twitching in your hand. A wicked idea twists through your mind as his hips roll into your fist. “Do you want my mouth, Batboy?” 

He startles at the offer. If not for the pulse of his cock and the way it leaks over your hand and onto his pants, you’d think you had offended him. He pulls back far enough to meet your eyes. They find the wall, the corner of your mouth then back to you. He works his jaw and clasps a hand over your arm. 

“I can’t—you—you don’t have to,” Batty stutters. “Fuck, Blue. I can’t…ask you for that.” 

“I’m offering,” you say, a little smile playing across your lips. “It’ll feel better than my hand.” 

Quicker than before, he gives in. He slumps into the couch as you slide to the rug between his knees. You reach up to hook your fingertips in his hem of his trousers and pull them as far as they go before they catch on his armor. He’s zeroed in on your face again as he widens his legs for you to scoot in close, knees cradling your ribcage. Fuck—being this close to his cock sends shockwaves of achey arousal to your cunt. It’s torture not to just shove your hand between your legs and take care of the wicked need.

Your mouth is watering—you bend down and part your lips to gently drag your tongue along the smooth skin of his balls, licking him clean of his previous orgasm. His whole body jumps at the hot, velvety slick sensation—you let out a low hum in response. Batty swears when you trail your way up, slowly trailing your tongue up the length of his cock and pressing your plush lips to his flushed tip.

Bats exhales a shaky breath while you run your tongue along him, memorizing his taste.  You wrap your lips around the head of his cock and roll your tongue up underneath the little crease here. The smooth skin pulses on your tongue, you slide your fingers around the pale protrusions of his hips, and work your mouth wider to take his thick length deeper. Drool and his precum pool at the base of his cock—probably gonna stain the leather below. 

Holy shit your jaw aches—   

His fingers bury themselves into your hair, the sharp pricks encouraging you to continue. He never once guides you or pushes you down his cock—it’s just a way to anchor himself. The heat of your mouth is overwhelming—soft and willing to please him. “S’good.”

Your pride swells. 

You pull up to make room for your slick hand to wrap around his cock, beginning to jerk him off. You lave your tongue over his tip and cradle him here within the soft pallet of your mouth, your touch gliding strong and wet along his entire length. His skin is sizzling as he hardens even more—the tension in his body about the burst and snap like a cut wire. “I’m close—”  

You hum in acknowledgment. You don’t stray from your course of suckling on the tip of his cock, slowly swirling your tongue around him, continuing to use your hand to firmly pump the length of his cock. Bats’ fingers twist into your hair as his hips unconsciously seek your mouth each time you pull up to catch a breath of cool air. His moans, while still low and rough, border on airy. 

Shit—you clench your thighs together. You can’t help yourself—the discomfort is too much. You drop a hand and wedge it between your thighs to press hard against your clit to relive some of that pressure that threatens to swallow you whole. The sight of you touching yourself excites him—that paired with the way you gaze up at him through your lashes, shoves him over the edge in a dizzying display of pure lust.

He whispers your name and hunches over you like you’ve punched him in the gut. He trembles, white-knuckling your hair and the armrest and once again cumming with force into your mouth. You greedily accept him. The first taste of his release spreads over the flat of your tongue right as you dig your nails into the exposed flesh of his hips. His hips buck, gasping raggedly as he empties himself down your throat—expelling the aphrodisiac meant to kill him from his veins the only way he can. 

You swallow all of what he gives to you, grasping his hips and locking him place as he rides out his high. You don’t let go until his firm frame relaxes, cock softening upon your tongue. A soft pop sounds in your ears as he slips from your mouth. His fingers untangle from your hair and delicately brush over the matted area. Wetness stains your mouth but before you can you wipe the mess from your lips and chin, his bare hand curls around your jaw and guides you into a devastating kiss. 

A familiar ache ignites in your chest—twisting, blazing, raw. The roaring in your ears becomes a thousand times louder. Like thunder, the fury of a storm, waves crashing against a gloomy cliff side. He’s an electrical surge that lights you up from the inside out. You can barely breathe but you feel so alive.

Bats nips at your bottom lip, mumbling his thanks like a prayer into your ear. His teeth tenderly nip at your earlobe, crowding you into the corner of the couch. “Can I return the favor?” 

You choke. “You don’t have to. I told you—” 

“I want to taste you,” he interrupts gently. The fingers around your jaw slide to your chin. His thumb pulls down your bottom lip.  

You’ll never understand how he’s able to touch you as if you are fine china. It doesn’t make sense with what he does, how he appears to the public all dark and violent. Before your conscious mind can agree, your head is nodding on its own. “Fuck yeah.” 

The ends of his mouth ever so slightly quirk up at that. Bats moves in closer. Shit. “Wait—wait,” you sputter, flattening your palms against his chest plate. You push, he backs up. “Your vitals—I need to make sure you’re ok first.” 

He grunts and pinches your chin, moving your head to the side. His vitals seem…normal, you suppose. They’ve plateaued. For now. “I’m fine, Blue.”

Bats slides off the couch and onto his knees, hands finding the swell of your hips. You think he’s going to eat you out like this, the same as you’ve done for him. But nope. No—he drags you to the floor and herds you onto all fours. Fuck—it makes sense. He can’t risk the chance of revealing his identity if you were to knock or grab his mask. Bats presses into your shoulder until you’re ass up, face resting on the carpet. You fingers dig into the red fibers, excitement thrumming through your core. 

He wrestles your pants and underwear down your legs, shuddering as he knocks your knees apart. You know how wet you must be based on the curse that tumbles sweetly past his lips. His ungloved hand runs down the slope of your ass and cuts inward, his thumb sliding through your wet slit. You hear him shuffle and then feel his breath fanning over the base of your spine a moment later.  

Bats hooks his other hand, the leather a sensory buffer, around your thigh and yanks your hips closer to his mouth. All thoughts fizzle out at the hot glide of his tongue through your pussy from behind. Oh, shit—you arch your spine and whine the only name you have for him. His tongue languidly swirls over your clit, each pass like an electric shock splitting through your cells. You want more. You cry and cant your hips back as he lightly sucks on the bundle of nerves. You nearly cry when he flattens his tongue and follows the curve of your cunt all the way up to your entrance.

You tense then immediately relax as the tips of his fingers, press at your entrance, teasing the clenching ring of soft muscle before sinking in. The two digits slip in with ease—all the way up to the second knuckle. When he draws them back out, they're no doubt coated with your wetness. He thrusts them back in, then out—setting a slow but strong pace that makes everything ache with need. It leaves you just hovering over the sharp edge of ecstasy, the catch of his knuckles and the heat of his calloused skin torture. 

You fist the rug under you, biting your lip to quiet the louder moans. You know for a fact that there’s still people lurking around somewhere in this building. “Gonna cum—keep going.”  

Bats’ mouth dips down a second time, sucks on your clit and hums around you. That does it. 

A few more curls and thrusts of his fingers inside of your clenching walls has your body seizing up tight. You're flying off that edge, faster than the speed of light. You cum onto his tongue and fingers with a strangled cry, sparks of blurry white alighting behind your eyelids as your back arches. Batty continues to lick you through your orgasm, even as you squirm and shake in his firm hold. Ecstasy implodes behind your eyelids as heat, hotter than wildfire spreads from your center all the way up your stomach and down to your toes. You're quivering, and over the roaring in your ears you hear Bats murmur his praise—feeling the vibration of his groan, as he licks up the flood of your wetness over his tongue. 

When he pulls away you groan at the loss and melt onto your side, jittery from the aftershocks. “Goddamn.”

Batman tickles his fingers over your bare thigh and run all the way down to the bend of your knee. Goosebumps follow in the wake of his touch. He drags his fingertips over them curiously—your turn your head. He retracts his hand like you’ve burned him and busies himself with getting redressed. The monitor flatlines as he tears off the remaining sticky patches. Your hands shake as they weakly tug your pants back up.

Nothing is said in the minutes following. You lead him from the office, up the emergency stairwell and out through the backdoor. It’s raining—steam from a nearby vent clouds the chilly air, the exit sign painting the blackness of his suit a bloody, neon red. You wipe the rain off your brow. 

You crane your neck to look at him. His mouth is still set in a rigid frown—maybe a bit more relaxed. You can’t tell in the darkness. 

“Thank you,” he says, all jagged and raw like ripped stitches. 

You hug your middle. Fuck, this rain is colder than balls. You smile. “Anytime, Batboy.” 

That, you can tell, bothers him still. He takes a heavy step forward, gear chinking as he moves. His movements are sluggish as he brings his hand, now fully gloved, to touch under your chin. He dips his head to reach you, lips barely skimming yours. You hold your breath and close your eyes. “Goodbye, Blue.” 

The touch of his lips is faint. Like a shadow. When you open your eyes, he’s gone. 

“See you around, Vengeance,” you whisper to the darkness. 

[schrijverr]

Surprise Hit

On a con Eliot is recognized by someone who has a hit on him and has to run.

On AO3.

Ships: none

Warnings: mentions of some mafia dealings

~~~~~~~~~~~

The con went to shit.

This happened often enough with a mark not making the expected choice, a firewall taking longer to crack than anticipated or someone showing up that was not supposed to. It was normal, however the way it went to shit this time was unique. “Nate, I got a problem,” Eliot announced.

“What is it?” Nate asked over the coms. It was an integral part of the plan that Eliot talked to their mark, John Fernsby, and convinced him to meet with Sophie. Nate would have done it, but he had already been the one to go in and convince the billionaire that thebusiness was worth investing in and Hardison was needed to help Parker into the safe. It had to be Eliot.

But Eliot said there was a problem, which was bad. However, it was about to get worse when Eliot answered: “He’s talking with a foreign dignitary, but I know he isn’t. That’s Mikhail Volkov, Russian mob. He has a hit out on me.”

“The fuck, man,” Hardison replied.

“I didn’t pick it either, okay,” Eliot hissed back. “But if he sees me, we’re fucked. Well, I’m fucked and someone has to take my part in the con.”

Hardison had pulled up the camera feed of the gala and watched how Eliot turned away from the mark and tried to leave them room without pulling any attention to himself. He almost managed too, were it not for a serenade band coming in right as he was near the exit.

It was such a stupid little thing that they couldn't have predicted and it was so incredibly ill-timed that Eliot had no room to come up with something. Mikhail turned to the band and saw Eliot, his brow furrowed and he yelled: “Stop that man!” as Eliot started to sprint, multiple people now on his trail.

He pushed over furniture behind him and swerved while a few bullets started to fly around his head, dangerously close. In his ear Hardison was giving him directions to Lucille, but he knew he could not return to the team. Not right now.

The Russian mob was not known for their leniency and if they thought he had people he worked with, then they would only target them as well. No, he had to go into hiding on his own and return to them later, when he could shake off his pursuers. In his ear he heard Hardison rant at him as he took the wrong turn, but Eliot didn’t care. He had a plan.

On the street it was easier to disappear, though he got many looks from people as they cleared the way for him while he ran like a madman. There were a few screams when the Russians appeared behind him with guns.

If it were a normal day and he was on his own, he would have stayed to fight them, but he was wearing a suit he couldn't easily fight in and Sophie and Parker had still been in the building, he couldn't risk them for something stupid he’d done in the past. And when he was outside, he didn’t have the surprise advantage or the closeness to take on that many guys with guns.

So, he ran.

His lungs were burning in his chest and his legs would be jelly were it not for the fact that he regularly ran long tracks in case he got in this exact situation.

It took a while, but the bullets stopped flying around his head and he couldn't hear any footsteps behind him anymore. He took a moment to focus on the chatter over the coms. His brain hadn’t heardany of the key words to get his attention in the background, so he assumed it was all fine.

“Eliot, Eliot, are you listening to me?” That was Nate.

“I’m here,” he grunted, checking in the alley if there was anyone still following, before starting to climb the fire escape.

“What are you doing? Hardison’s GPS says you’re nowhere near the hotel. We need to regroup and figure out our next move,” Nate said as Sophie asked: “Are you okay, Eliot?”

He replied: “I’m fine, Sophie. Just didn’t want to lead a group of armed mobster to our hotel room when their goal is to kill me and all my associates.”

“They’re coming to kill us?” Hardison’s squeaky voice came through the speaker.

“Not if they don’t know I’m with you,” Eliot assured him, “which is why I’m not at the hotel right now. I think I’ve shaken them off, but just in case I’m taking a long way round. Probably won’t come through the doors.”

Thenhe tuned them out again. It might be rude and he heard they were still asking him all sorts of questions, but he wasn’t in the mood to answer. He had other things to focus on and the last thing he wanted was to tell them why there was a hit on his head from this particular mobster.

Going through the city over the roof, he saw a few familiar stances and haircuts stationed at public places where he would hide, as well as at the hotels and he knew he had made the right decision to take this route.

Mentally he was trying to figure out why Mikhail was here of all places talking with their mark. It could be that he was laundering money and their mark having a connection with the mob could both help and be an issue. He could get into witness protection in turn for information, but it was also proof that his business wasn’t clean, even if they had wanted to get him for the stealing of company funds that screwed over his employees’ safety.

But that was not his business to think about, but Nate’s. He would wait for what the man had to say about this development, but in order to do that, he needed to get back to the hotel.

There were also “guards” at the entrance of their hotel, but the team was only on the fourth floor and while they weren’t close to the fire escape, Eliot could get up high and then go side wards over the ridge to their window.

He gave Hardison a heart attack when he got at the window. They hadn’t left it open, much to his chagrin, but were luckily there to open it for him and it was better not to have a weakness in the defense, so he couldn't blame them.

“What the hell, man,” Hardison said. “Give someone a warning before you go around showing up in front of the window. Did you even have safety or something? We’re up high. You could have fallen to your death, Eliot.”

“Yeah and if I had gone through the front door, I would have been shot,” he pointed out tiredly from where he was lying on the floor.

Parker was looking out the window and smiled: “Oeh, that’s a good climbing ridge indeed.”

“Woman!” Hardison exclaimed, while Eliot said: “We could do without the attention to our room, Parker, maybe next time.” She looked sad and glanced over one more time, before closing the window with a pout.

“Care to explain what happened?” Nate asked as he leaned over him. He did that face where he attempted innocence, but failed.

“Got recognized by someone who’s sort of actively trying to kill me,” Eliot replied with what they already knew.

“Sort of actively?” Sophie asked and Eliot was glad he could explain something not that bad to them instead of the other stuff. “Yeah, there’s a difference between saying, ‘hey if you manage to kill this person and prove it you get money,’ and ‘I am hiring you to kill this person within a time frame.’ Mikhail is the former. If I die, he would be happy, but he’s not putting extra resources in finding me and eliminating me.”

“And why would be be happy if you’re dead?” Fucking Nate always sticking his nose everywhere.

“I met him once,” Eliot wasn’t giving him shit.

“Would I be correct in assuming that the meeting ended in a loss on his end?” Nate replied.

“Maybe.” He was neither confirming or denying, not if there was no explicit reason. He hadn’t felt bad about the blow to Mikhail’s organization. It hadn’t been the worst he’d done and Mikhail had a smuggling ring of sex workers and that had been awful to find.

“Okay, so we know Fernsby has connections to the Russian mob,” Nate thought out loud. “So, he’s not only stealing money from his employees, but laundering dirty money as well. If we can tie those together then we’re set.”

“Mikhail has a weakness for brunettes,” Eliot informed him, not telling him how he got that tidbit of knowledge. “He also likes gambling.”

Nate got a glint in his eye as he looked to Sophie, who smiled back. Of course those two would have a plan without needing to communicate.

“You’re out for the rest of the con,” Nate told him. “Can’t have you risk the entire thing if you’re recognized.”

“What? No!” Eliot sat up. “I need to be there to have your back. With the Russians it’s only going to get more dangerous. I’m not leaving you to your fate with those people, they’re dangerous, Nate. This isn’t just some cushy billionaire anymore.”

“And what if he gets suspicious of Sophie because of you, what will you do then, Eliot?” Nate shot back. “I’m not saying you need to stay here, but I am saying you need to keep out of sight. You’re with Hardison in Lucille.”

Eliot wanted to protest, wanted to be closer to the danger in case it went to shit, he wanted to be there when a mistake from his past came back, but he couldn't argue with Nate’s logic and sometimes he hated that about the man.

So, he found himself watching the screens in Lucille as Sophie tried to get Mikhail to make a gamble on her company, to ditch Fernsby, because he was doing it without him and leaving him out of the profits.

He was filled with jittery energy, but so far so good.

“Hey, Eliot,” Hardison opened. “What’s it like, you know, to have a hit on your head? I mean, I’m wanted in some countries, but that’s just boring government stuff, not actual people, like persons, wanting me dead personally, you know.”

“Are you really asking me what it’s like when someone wants you killed?” Eliot asked him.

“I guess,” Hardison shrugged, trying not to look like he wanted to know the answer and failing miserably.

“It’s not that different from being wanted by the government, I suppose,” Eliot finally answered, surprising Hardison. “You just gotta watch out for different things and hope no one is desperate enough for cash to go after you. I have a good enough reputation that hardly anyone tries, but I’ve had periods where I had multiple people on my trail across a dozen countries. It was exhausting, but I get it. Kill me and you can make a lot of people with a lot of money happy.”

“Wait, hold on, reverse and repeat,” Hardison said. “A lot of people?”

“Yeah,” Eliot replied, didn’t Hardison know this? “I got more than one hit on my head. I think it’s five. Used to be six, but one of them died and the bounty fell through. Though I never knew if that one English guy put one on my head as well. And of course, the countries, but those are always lazy about it, so I don’t worrry too much about those.”

“What the fuck, man.”

Eliot didn’t see the big deal. He had done a lot to deserve it and he had learned to live with it. He hadalways kept one eye open anyway.

He focused back on the screen, despite the hiccup earlier with him, the con ran smoothly on its new course and Sophie was phenomenal as he pitted the two guys against one another, making them sell each other out in the end.

Nate was there with the police and both were arrested with illegal cash on their hands and a lot of bank records detailing their dirty schemes as well as showing the abysmal circumstances of the workers that had gone unaddressed in favor of laundering money.

Later when they were sitting in the bar, Nate turned to him and asked: “Any more of that we should be worried about?”

Before Eliot could answer, Hardison had jumped in: “Apparently between five and six more times.”

“No, between four and five,” Eliot corrected. “Mikhail is no longer on the list, but honestly we couldn't have predicted this and there are too many bad guys I’ve known, double crossed, worked for or left that are still out there. We can’t account for all of them. I’ll try to be aware of which marks could have ties to other’s I’ve known, but you don’t get to be good in my line of work without enemies.”

Nate wanted to say something else, but Sophie was quicker. “I’m not keeping track of all the people I have grifted either, Nate,” she said. “We all have a past and you’re not harping me about that or Parker on all she’s stolen. Just because Eliot’s past is a bit different, doesn’t mean we can treat it differently in our team.”

Eliot didn’t fully agree with the comparison. His enemies we’re not the same and one of them coming back would be worse than it was for others.

Still, he couldn't bring himself to disagree with her. Not right now.

He thought of all the people he killed, all the families he’d left behind with one member less. He thought of Moreau and the horrible things he’d done for that man. He thought of the US Army that had turned him into a killer and set him loose on foreign soil for the first time.

And he thought of his team. Of how glad he was he knew them and how they made him better and didn’t force him to be a person he hated. How much they meant to him and how badly he didn’t want to loose that.

So he stayed quiet and let Sophie defend him, hoping his past would not come back like that again.

~~

A/N:

Sorry that the con is kinda vague, I only had the ‘the mark/someone there has a hit on Eliot and he needs to run’ and no clear plan on running the con in the background. Hope it was still enjoyable :D

[spideymybucky]

An Arrow in the Heart

Greek/Roman mythology Au

Tom Holland x Reader 

Tom Holland as Eros. 

Reader - Y’all see soon. 

A/n: Hello my dear people, welcome to my new story. It’s based on a screenplay i wrote but wanted to people to read it. I hope you like it. Its gonna have more action than this. This is kind of like the prologue, so yea.... Lets start. 

Part 0: The beginning of life 

(Y/n) never imagined she’d hate her life. She always felt that she was meant for greatness, that she was important, but, little by little, this went fleeting her mind. Now she’s in college, trying to pay attention while glancing at her watch every thirty seconds. She knew that if she were late, all hell would break loose. 

Her professor, Mr. Brown, kept talking about their grades and how it was essential to finish with time for revision, as he would not use his free time to counsel students. He kept writing on the black chalkboard and laughing at his jokes—all slow and monotonous, with no spark of excitement. 

“I know I’ve exceeded my time, but just bear with me for a minute…” He opened his presentation, dragging down the white background, and putting on the final project’s instructions. (Y/n) looked at the blinking red numbers, it stated 4:05, and at that exact time, her phone turned on with a notification. Ariti Restaurant - Shift starts at 5 pm. Mr.Brown started talking again, all about the project and, right there and then, she knew she was going to be late. Tardiness was never her parents’ favorite attribute of the “new” generation. 

“Fucking hell…” She mumbled under her breath. She took one last glance at the clock, that had changed from 4:05 to 4:15 and decided to leave the class. She didn’t want to face her mother’s wrath. She grabs her stuff and goes quietly. She runs out of the building and to the street. She then proceeds to walk fast towards the nearest station. She stops at a crosswalk and looks at the red sign as the cars passed. Her phone chimed this time, she looked at it, and it stated 4:30. She was going to be late, horribly. She should have left minutes ago. 

The crosswalk turns green, and she bolts two blocks down. She then proceeds to get to the station, run down the stairs, past the ticket, and enter. She looks for the red lane, it’s to the left, and runs as fast as her feet could take her. She gets to the platform just in time for the doors to close, and a few seconds later, the train to leave. 

“Shit. Shit. Shit.” she mumbled under her breath. 

(Y/n) stairs at it, heaving as she lets go of her stuff. She turns around and sees a bench, where she proceeds to sit down. God, her mother was going to kill her. She turns on her phone and texts her. 

(Y/n): I’m going to be a bit late, I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you. 

She turned down her phone and picked up her journal, where she had various drawing of moments in history that resonated with her, moments she didn’t even know could exist and people she had never met. All had the same feeling, that she had experienced them. A dejavu moment, that had never left her brain. She turned to her last drawing, a white pristine dress adorned a woman, who was holding a sword, next to her a black suited man, who had a box in his hands. It felt familiar yet distant, like something she had seen somewhere. She continued drawing, outlining the woman's hair, she still didn’t have er features defined. 

The train came a few minutes later and she got it. It speed out of the platform and into the view of the city. Her phone, which she had on her hand, started vibrating intensely. 

Mother: Where are you?

Mother: don't ignore my texts.

Mother: We are going to be late because of you.

Father: Answer your mother's texts, Cythera Cyprus.

Mother: If we miss your brother's game, I won't ever forgive

you.

Father: We expected better from you. Tardiness is not who we

are, Cytherea.

Father: If you don't prioritize your responsibilities, then

why bother coming?

With each text coming through her phone lit up, making her annoyed. She only wanted some peace and quite, for just a moment. She turns enter her phone and looks at her response. It hadn't been sent, she pressed the small red circle with an exclamation point, and to options came out, send/delete. She tries to send it again, and to her luck, the message goes through. 

(Y/n) runs in through the back door, of the kitchen. She grabs an apron, hanging on the backside of the wall and puts it on. Her name tag with a miss-spelled name, not even that her parents got right. She grabs a receipt and starts cutting the lettuce, she finishes and proceeds to get the chicken and the pita bread. Her mother strides in, an annoyed look on her face. She looks at what her daughter is doing and rolls her eyes. 

“You’re are doing it wrong and you’re late.” Her rough voice called out.

“I'm sorry, it won't happen again. My class ended a bit late today and i just- it was the final project-” The woman, about 55 years old with a frown upon her face, rolls her eyes and scoffs at her. 

“I don't like excuses, you should’ve left earlier, I don’t care about your project. Now I’m going to be late.” (Y/n) finishes the Chicken Pita bread and turns around, grabbing a tray and putting the plate on. She grabs a the green drink that comes along and a hummus spread, with pita bread on the side.  

“I’m sorry ok? I swear, it wont happen again.” With another disdain look, her mother got out of the way. A small sigh left her lips before a fake smile spread on her face. She read the receipt, table 5, and went there. 

“What took so long? I ordered this a while ago.” A frazzled woman raised her voice. She smiled at her politely. 

“I know ma’am, we had some problems in the kitchen but we brought you a side of hummus and pita bread on the house.” The lady nodded and continued looking at her phone. (Y/n) left the food and moved to another customer, her mother eyeing her from the side table. She grabbed some more orders and rang up a costumer, where her mother intervened and checked twice if she was doing it right. It was horrible, overbearing and annoying but if she said something, she would be doomed. 

“I’m leaving” Her mom announced while she was making more hummus. She turned around and nodded at her. “I expect nothing less than a squeaky clean place and two thousand on the register. I already counted, we have 1950.” 

“But its payday, we gotta pay Danny.” She turned around and looked at the cook, a quite 40-year-old man with a sketchy background but didn’t expect to wrok for more than the minimum wage. Her mother hired him on the spot, she was a cheap person. 

“I don’t (Y/n), figure it out. I don’t care pay dani and leave the rest.” She nodded and looked at her mother leave, with her hair pressed up and the latest boots that were trending. Sometimes she wonders why they had her. Was it because of pity? Was it because they expected her to be a boy? She just wanted to finish everything, get the restaurant and leave. She’d manage it from for away, from somewhere her parents couldn’t bother her. 

Closing time came and before she knew it, she handed Dani his money. He preferred cash not check. She put the chair up on the table and turned all the light out. She smiled at Dani, who opened the glass door and left. She looked at everything one last time, making sure she didn’t miss anything and turned around. She closed the door, locked it and took a step forwarded before she fell to the ground. Her heart was hurting. Was she going to die? What the hell was happening? 

“Help, fucking help.” She screamed or tried too. She was to young to die, she wanted more form like. She looked down and saw a golden arrow coming out of her chest and she started panicking again. 

“Holy shit, holy shit holy shit.” She repeated to herself. She looked up and saw a man passing her, as if nothing was wrong. “FOR GOD SAKE, HELP ME PLEASE.” She screamed on more time, then the golden arrow disappeared but the feeling of dying didn't.  She stayed kneeling on the floor, grabbing her chest, and heaving. Death really was coming. God, if I ever come back as something else, I’m really going to live life this time. She saw a pair of black boots coming closer. They were leather, she was sure of it. She looked up and saw a frizzled man, curly hair, defined jaw-line and a frown upon his face. Yet, all she could feel was love and desire for him. 

WHAT THE FUCK WAS HAPPENING TO HER?

[raindrop-on-a-spiderweb]

Swing Me Round The Moon

@anon who asked me where the previous chapter of Salvatore and Patience's marriage was, I uploaded it to archiveofourown

https://archiveofourown.org/works/25077973/chapters/60945490

And I've been meaning to upload this unpublished bonus chapter for a while, written for my friend Brook.

It's just a snapshot of Patience and Salvatore's marriage and some smut 😝

***

"He kissed your hand. He kissed your fucking hand."

Patience deposited her infant in a tub of soapy water in the sink. "It's Leonardo Borghese. He does that to everyone. He's a gentleman." She gave him a hurtful look. "You could stand to be more of a gentleman."

Salvatore was pacing around the cluttered living room, hair messy and a cigarette clutched between his fingers. His eyes were dark and wild. "I'll kill him. I'll kill that cocksucker. Touching my wife like that… I saw the way he looked at you. Fucking blond bastard, smug privileged little fuck. I bet he thinks he can have anything he wants--including you. I'll show him. I'll walk up behind him in an empty street and put a bullet in his skull. I will--"

"Look at you. A week out of jail and already planning on murdering somebody."

"Daddyyyy," whined her daughter from the doorway.

"Why don't you play with your children? They haven't seen you in a year. They're happy to have you back."

Salvatore scooped up his daughter and sat her on his lap, still shaking. The girl pulled at his sleeveless shirt, waving a doll in his face.

"It's not fair you been putting the twins in between us when we sleep," he growled. "I can't even hold you. I'm a man, you know. A man's got needs."

"Well, if you're not going to wear a condom then I'll just have to keep doing it! You spent a year in prison with your right hand, you can wait a little longer!" She slammed down the fork she was cleaning and glared at him. 

He didn't seem to be listening to her. He and his daughter were watching a Disney cartoon on television, but his eyes seemed far away. She did not like the look in his eyes. She knew that look. It meant he was about to do something stupid, get into trouble again. 

Patience shook her head as she went back to drying silverware. Sal knew better than to do that. He knew she would give him hell and high water if he did something like that again. She'd been on her own for a year and she had just got her husband back, she wasn't going to let prison have him again any time soon.

***

The kids were all read to and put to bed, so Patience dotted on face cream and slid under the covers to wait for her husband. One of the twins had his thumb in his mouth, the other was fast asleep. She curled up around them, waiting for Salvatore's heavy footsteps to clomp down the hall and his tall body to depress the bed beside her. Her eyes had only just began to drift shut when she heard the front door lock unsnap. 

A jolt of fear rushed to her head as she ran out into the hallway. Salvatore had put on an overcoat and was loading a revolver. The barrel had just snapped shut and he was preparing to tuck it into his fly when Patience hit him head on.

"Salvatore Bruno Mallozzi, don't you dare! Don't you dare!" She blabbered, forcibly holding him back as he tried to elbow her off. 

"He had it comin' for a long time," he spat. "This was the last straw. Last fuckin' straw. I know what he's gonna try to do to you when I go back to jail. Gotta take him out for you and the kids."

"You will be going back to jail for the rest of your life if you do this!"

His eyes were black as hell and burning with hatred as he yanked the door open. At wit's end, Patience resorted to the last trick up her sleeve--the one thing she knew she could rely on to get him to stop.

She took his face in between her hands and kissed him.

Patience felt the tension leave his body immediately. She wrapped her arms around his neck as his hands went to her waist, pulling her towards his hard body. Salvatore  kissed her like a man drowning, sucking her tongue so hard it went numb, conquering her lips with harsh, hot kisses. 

Still kissing, she felt for the wall, feeling her way down the hall until they reached the living room.

He was fumbling her silk nightdress, pulling it over her head. She was glad he had presence of mind to do that, at least. Sometimes he would be so worked up he would rip it off like an animal. Her eldest daughter kept wondering why her nightgowns always ended up torn and left in the trash.

His overcoat fell to the floor as he pulled his shirt over his head, exposing his lean, muscled chest. His calloused fingers thumbed over her soft skin, around her small pink nipples, and delving between the apex of her thighs.

He was a heady lover, and a forceful one. Some part of her liked that. She always went away fulfilled--in more ways than one. She morosely reminded herself to pick up another bassinet when she went to Woolworth's. Good grief, three children in this house under the age of three and one soon to be on the way.

They were both naked now, his erection pressing above her navel. He was a tall man, and strong despite his spindly appearance. He picked her up and effortlessly threw her onto the sofa. A squeaky toy squeaked under her back.

Patience was wet from his caresses earlier, and arched her back as he pushed himself between her legs. The tip of his cock pressed against her lower lips, hard and pulsing, then slammed in up to the hilt. It had been so long since she had a hot cock in her that her whole body went limp, the pleasure washing over her in a river as he started his rhythm.

"No--" she managed, sitting up to press her hand over his chest. Her face was flushed, brown hair messy. "The… the bedroom. The children could see us."

She stood up shakily, covering herself with her nightgown as they hustled into the bedroom between kisses. The bedside lamp lit them in a soft orange glow as they fell backwards--

One of the twins whined.

***

Both of them were stock still for a moment as their child turned over and pressed his face against the pillow. Their lips were still entwined, frozen.

Patience moved first, creeping out of the room and leading her husband by the hand. He collapsed on the sofa in a sudden paternal fit, his thick dark hair in a mess, as if he were a wholesome Desi Arnaz fretting about his home life. "All these fuckin kids," groused Salvatore.

"Whose fault is that?" Patience grumpily knew they would be conceiving their next tonight. Sometimes she wished she had never let him badger her into marriage. She slid her legs over his, settling into his lap. The head of his cock slid into her as she swiveled her hips, and he responded by wrapping his arms around her waist and slamming her forward.

It had been so long. She remembered when they had just married--she had already been pregnant, but that had not dampened his lust for her. They used to spend hours in bed together, his lips latched onto her swollen nipple and her gasping mouth. Her pregnant belly had fit so well against his lean one, and she felt a sudden leap of excitement as she thought of herself getting heavy with another one before she squashed it cynically, as she had with every positive feeling she'd ever felt towards him.

She rode him silently in the cluttered quiet of the room. The dull black glare of the television reflected them, two bodies hung over each other. Her hair curtained her face as he slammed up into her.

Her nipples were ripe as berries, her legs trembling and her body racing with pleasure as his cock dragged against her swollen pink walls. He pressed a rough finger on her clit as she rode him to climax, and the extra spurt of fire made her walls clench around his length. 

The rush of semen into her ripe, waiting womb made her bite her husband's shoulder, hard. He just laughed and slid his hand behind her head. "You're still being the shy girl I knew when we met, huh?"

"I wasn't shy," she murmured, eyes half lidded with pleasure.

"Hell you weren't. I could tell you'd never been fucked before in your life, with your little coiffed flip and your tiny pursed lips. You wouldn't even meet my eyes. Once you got a taste of me, you couldn't stay away." He kissed her ear warmly. "And I can't stay away from you, either. Fuck, I'd take you over Marilyn Monroe, you know that, Patty?"

Her insides were beginning to relax as her orgasm faded away. She had enough strength to tiredly lift her head and try and whisper something in his ear--before the door knocked.

"Mama? Papa? It's getting kinda cold. Why is the door open."

Patience tilted her head back, the tips of her hair tickling the small of her back. She and Salvatore shared an exhausted, matching smile.

"Just close it, honey. Mama and Papa will come to bed in a minute."

[threadsoftheeasternseas]

Heléna van der Woolf, for @toxoplasmajuice’s Atkins MMBC

Heléna is 23, a witch, and an aspiring Street Credible. - artistic | avant garde | charismatic | handy | hydrophobic

Interview Questions:

“Who am I? Hmm. Well. My name is Heléna Elissa Anarietta van der Woolf, but that’s a bit of a mouthful for most people. I’m from a loooong line of witches in the van der Woolf matriarchy, always destined to keep the coven going blah blah blah. What if I don’t want to be a matriarch? What if I just wanna make some sweet street art and marry someone I’ve chosen rather than that pompous windbag my parents have picked out for me. Puh-lease.”

“Anyway. I’m Heléna, I’m 23, and I’m from a town called Monte Vista. Or as most people call it, Monte Woolf-sta, seeing as my family own half the place. Ugh. You can refer to me by she/her or they/them pronouns, it kinda depends on the day but either is usually fine.”

“Long term goals before the world started crumbling...hmm...I guess I just wanted to create some art and fight the system. Y’know, normal rebellious heir stuff.”

“Talents and skills? Hobbies? I guess my art...whether it’s on a canvas, or a mural, or a random paving stone...it’s all good, right? And I can do some SWEET broomstick tricks. Bet you don’t hear many heiresses say that.”

“Love life? HAH! What love life? My parents have had my entire future set out for me since before I was born. Betrothed to some snotty imbecile of a count from Midnight Hollow that stinks of years-old garlic and nothing else. He’s the sim equivalent of a used dish cloth. I don’t think I need to carry on. You get the picture.”

“Sanctuary...end of the world...getting away from my family...what’s not to like? Sign me up for this BC, baby.”

“Criminal record? Uh...nope, nope. Completely squeaky clean. Heh. Heheh....” 

“A random fact would probably be that I can tie my shoelaces with my tongue. I KNOW IT’S WEIRD but sometimes you gotta improvise with what you’ve got when you’re locked in your bedroom tower for hours on end.”

“Ancient curses? Not currently...although that may not be the case once my mother finds out where I’ve disappeared to.”

“Only people I’ve left behind are my family. And trust me, I’ve been trying to find a way of getting rid of them for years.”

“First thing I’ll do once I’m outta this place is find my own house far, far away from Monte Vista. I don’t even want to think about the destruction my mother may cause if I ventured back after all of this...”

OOC questions!

yes of course you can draw her!

my only tips for writing Heléna is just remember she’s from a very upper class family of several generations of witches. She’s got a lot of weight on her shoulders and the rebellious streak is purely from that.

her room design I’d say is mainly kinda supernatural/spooky-ish. but she does love a good pop of foresty green/lavender/orange!

ofc. always around for questions - although twitter is probs your best bet for getting info from me!

also re: criminal record...she may have once or twice been caught drawing murals of “F*CK THE WOOLFSTA” on walls around the city at 3am...no comment.

also if you can give her the crystal wand (a bit like in this final picture) i’d love that best for her!

she uses NO CC!!!

everyday: hair and outfit are uni life, shoes are base game

formal: hair is island paradise, shoes are base game

sleepwear: hair is showtime, outfit is uni life

athletic: hair is uni life, outfit is into the future/base game, shoes are base game

swimwear: hair is uni life, outfit is island paradise

outerwear: hair is uni life, outfit is island paradise/base game, shoes are world adventures

and idk if it’s relevant but: she’s a scorpio, her fave food is falafel, her fave music is dark wave, and her fave colour is irish green.

also. she absolutely despises water. she had a dream about drowning once when she was 5 and it’s terrified her ever since.

i’ll send you a download link via twitter or discord or something!!! hope you like her!!

[writingsofmyimagination]

Conjecture |9|

Idol Reader Au, Enemies to Lovers AU

Summary: Your management refused to renew your contract unless you collaborated, so you ending up working with Min Yoongi. A guy you’d disliked from before both of your debuts. There is more to their past than meets the eye.

Links to all other parts in my masterlist :)

Words:3941

Warnings: SMUT!! (BDSM themes, restraints, toys, oral m recieving, masturbation, Sub Yoongi with a tiny bit of Dom), Swearing.

It’s finally here guys! God it’s been too long since i worked on this! Love this chapter because of that!

if you want to be tagged let me know :)

Reblog, Like, Comment pwwwweeasse :)

//Yoongi obeyed and dressed albeit heavy with amusement. The way panic grew across your face tickled him and forged a drowsy grin on his face. He drew back the long black curtains and introduced the bright beams of the sun slowly ascending the skyline. As much your mum could be terrifyingly blunt Yoongi had always had a good relationship with her, quite often he’d find himself at one of your shows and end up chatting to your biggest fan and the one who brought you into this life. He slowed his pace nearing the junction to the living room and heard your mum giving you relationship advice before stepping into the situation.//

 “Y/N!” Yoongi exclaimed when you’d grabbed his hand and pulled him into a harsh kiss as the elevator doors closed. His cheeks flushed rose when you let yourself pull away, your smirk thoroughly enjoying his embarrassment and awkwardness.

The meeting lasted a few hours and as soon the topic changed from the MAMAs to your relationship your mood soured incredibly quickly;  the list of restrictions on your new relationship grew and grew like unwanted thistles over a perfect lawn. You knew this was going to be the case especially seeing as the situation concerned a member of BTS but it still grated you the wrong way. You couldn’t even hold hands in public! The air was thick with unease. You’d also been told to do a joint V-Live later on and announce the MAMA performance; an official statement regarding dating status was going to be released tomorrow morning.

Yoongi being Yoongi wasn’t sure how to deal with you in this agitated state, the only comfort he could offer was squeezing your hand with gentle pressure when you were finally alone in the elevator. The action so small actually bloomed into a lot of comfort.

“I’ll go get Charlie from Kook and make a phone call and I’ll be back okay baby” The way he looked at you, calling you baby with those contemplative gooey eyes somewhat soothed a little more of the turmoil in your mind.

“Sure, don’t be too long” offering a weak smile.

You gave the receptionist a smile which prompted they keys at her computer to stop emitting the tapping sound and make her way over to you, the unsure smile and never focusing eyes were the unmistakable signs of a fan approaching a celebrity

“Excuse me Miss YL/N” The politeness of when we first entered the building remained unaltered.

You replied with a soft smile beckoning her to continue, she towered above you as you were sat; she realised this and knelt down to your height after bowing.

“I just want to say that I’m a huge fan and so is my daughter we saw you in Seoul at your tour kick off, it was incredible”

You beamed at her with wide appreciative eyes.

“Thank you so much, glad you enjoyed it, how old is your daughter? You replied

“18”

“Exam week for her right?”

“Yeah it’s been a tense week for sure”

“What’s her name?” you asked

“Annabelle?” her tone was now quizzical.

“Would you mind if I recorded a video on your phone for her?” She swallowed hard as if her throat had just played victim to drought

“Oh my god, that would be amazing” her words stumbled out as did her hands giving you her phone.

You recorded a message of good luck and encouragement and promised that next time you toured she could have VIP passes to one of your shows for all her hard work. You took the receptionists details and sent them straight to your manager. Her face morphed from ecstatic to petrified when a door to the left of her desk opened.

She’s obviously not supposed to be fazed by the guests here

Thankfully it was only Yoongi accompanied by Charlie who was walking patiently by his side

“I didn’t know you was a y/n fan” Her only response was a guilty smile and returned to her desk.

Yoongi really needed to stop wearing skinny jeans with rips in, the just looked too good on him; not to mention how his oversized black t-shirt sat on him in such a way it emphasised how small he actually was. His skin always glowed even bare faced and tired; you were both jealous and in awe of this.

“Earth to Y/N, you don’t need to daydream about me ya know” he teased placing the lead in my hand. “I’m yours now remember”

You’d been busted

“That maybe but sometimes one imagines things not entirely appropriate” you shot back. His eyes grew wide as did his smirk.

“You going to let me in on the daydream then? Need to live up to my expectations now don’t I”

“Nope”

He visibly huffed before carrying on walking you both out of the building

“Fine, come on I want to show you something”

We arrived down a quiet street occupied by what looked like old factory buildings. Half of the street was shrouded in un-moving shadows, it blanketed the few of the cars left on the street. Yoongi pulled up and bursting with chivalry came and opened the door for you; as much as it felt odd you accepted his hand and stepped out the car. He pressed the buzzer at a Tuscan red bricked building, the door was a large factory one. All the while your head was turning and searching for anything that indicated where the hell you were and for any potentially impending paparazzi

“It’s me” He confirmed to the crispy, crackling voice of the intercom, a click reached your ears and Yoongi hauled the door open.

You certainly was not expecting to be welcomed into a large white room, the white walls were beaming; the tint of fresh paint aroma was hanging weak in the air. The only thing gracing the walls were a variety of shapes and sizes of photographs to be illuminated by the lamps that sat off above them. More central in the room were benches and small podium like stands with animals’ models shown proudly off them.

Before you could ask what you were doing here, Yoongi replied to the vacant look on your face.

“My friends opening an exhibition next week, I remember how much you like photography so here we are.

You were approached by a young faced man, bright face tarred with the lines of stress. He was dressed in navy trousers and a loose shirt.

“Oh I’m actually so glad you’re here” he rushed “Could you please hold the fort here for like 30 mins, the security people are running late but I’ve got to go and meet with the caterers” his face was flushed a red pink, poor thing.

“Uh Sure, yeah of course” Yoongi stuttered back.

“Also absolute pleasure to finally meet you Y/N, please enjoy” He offered you a bow down to his waist and placed a light respectful kiss on the back of your hand before zooming off.

“Nice to meet you too” your voice chasing after him.

“So I guess it’s just us then” your words slowed as they escaped you.

“Looks like”

You took his hand and moulded it to yours

“Guess we can look around the gallery like this then” you quipped bright as a button with the opportunity.

“Can also do this” he added yanking you to a kiss which then moulded you against his body, before you’d allow yourself to set you pulled yourself apart and focused your attention to the beautiful photographs at your personal viewing.

You’d spent about thirty grand in your mind already window shopping, it would be reality as soon as you worked out where on earth you’d hang them. One of them already would look perfect in your studio.

“He’s really talented”

“Yeah, even at college he was annoyingly talented, he beat me at every class” ….

“Well I’d say your both winning at life, just different departments. Reckon he has more in the back?”

“Probably yeah” he followed your lead, not that he had a choice, he was too content secured in your grip. The main back room was cluttered with debris of packaging and boxes, the only thing that was clear was a low sofa and a small table and chairs; the table was only lightly littered with food packets and wrappers. Along the far wall was a rack holding a stack of large prints all protected with a protective film for transporting.

You wandered off, releasing his grip and aimed straight for the rest of the prints. There was an expulsion of air from the leather sofa as Yoongi relaxed his weight to it; allowing you to browse excitedly with a content smirk resting on his face. You managed to catch the end of the sparkle of amusement trying to flicker away as you turned.

“What?”

“Nothing you’re just so adorable when you’re in your element”

“Call me adorable once more and BTS will need a new rapper” you warned.

“Ado……ra” he began, your eyes glistened with ‘you dare’; your uncontained smile only provoked him

“Ble” he finished looking smug.

 “Is this adorable?” you breathed, teeth nipping at his neck, hand feathered at the back of his neck gripping at his hair. Your palm applying pressure through his trousers just underneath the apex of your thighs

“You know damn well it isn’t” he managed trying to keep all breathy moans from escaping to coax you more.

“You’ve gotta stop” he pleaded.

“Why?” lips enveloping his, delaying the response you knew was coming.

“You are going to get us into sooo much trouble and we really can’t have a scandal someone could be back any minute” his grip loosened at the outside of your thighs, further informing you of his sincerity.

“You mean you can’t! My reputation is quirky and beautifully tarnished at best. Yours is the squeaky clean one” You pouted, slumping back onto your legs shifting your weight to his legs.

“Put that bottom lip away before I call it adorable” you chuckled at his statement slapping his chest in amused disapproval.

The knock of the door almost jolted you on your ass as it made you jump and had you scrambling off Yoongi to an innocent position. A calm smile camouflaging the rapid panicking of your heart. After checking the window and confirming the work men you opened the door to an immediately flustered couple of guys. They definitely weren’t expecting two idols to greet them.

“Umm…I’m looking for..Mr” he stuttered. One pair of eyes was noticeably on you a hell of a lot more than Yoongi.

“He’ll be back any minute” Yoongi piped up, slightly stepping in front of you and pulling the door open from you. The protective gesture didn’t go unnoticed.

Hurried footsteps bombarded from behind to a flushed looking …

“I’m here, thank you” You and Yoongi wordlessly thanked him as the security guys were already going over plans like they couldn’t wait five god damn minutes.

//

The pair of you worked on some of the arrangement on the song until you both sub-misssed into your room at Yoongis and curled up together in comfy spoon and napped. The weight of your arms draped at his hips, your face nestled into the back of his neck was the perfect catalyst for sleep.

//

Everything was set for the V-Lives, you’d both wanted to air it from your own accounts so you’d managed to push two screens together in his studio and placed two cameras where each of the screens met so you’d be looking in the same direction.

The genius compromise came from you. Obviously.

“Ready?” he asked swivelling in his chair to your direction behind him faffing with your hair and fine tuning your makeup in a small mirror by the door.

“You’re shitting it aren’t you?” pushing himself up and out of his chair and wrapped himself around you from behind, head resting on your shoulder looking all bright and doey eyed at your reflection.

“Just nervous about the reactions we’ll get tomorrow more than anything” You confessed.

“It will be fine, we know they’ll be both good and bad, people will get over it. Anyway just see it as we’ll be the K-Pop power couple everyone will want to talk about”

You chuckled under your breath “Power couple? We’re not Jay Z and Beyonce” you quipped.

Both of you had thousands of viewers in minutes, watching the comments explode with excitement asking what’s going on had you wearing an amused smile leaning forward hand supporting your chin as your eyes scanned the influx of fans. Some of which were already saying you’d look like such a good couple.

After you’d made the performance announcement the V-live quickly deteriorated into a snowstorm of questions, you both did your best to control the blizzard without revealing any secret snowflakes.

“A lot of Army are asking what your favourite BTS song is” Yoongi directed at you with beautiful curious eyes.

“I think whatever it is you should totally sing some” he added knowing full well the power of army would make the peer pressure unbeatable. Even your fans comments turned on you and wanted to hear you sing.

“Seriously?” you asked bemused.

“Yep! Look literally everyone wants it and you can’t tell me as an artist you’ve not sung or prepared a version of it” he rolled his chair back and dragged out the mic stand and placed it defiantly in the room.

“I’ll play the piano for it” he encouraged. Your face felt the rush of blood tainting your cheeks.

“Erm, it’s so hard to pick just one, I guess either Tomorrow or House of Cards, you choose from them” you demanded, from the fans or Yoongi would do.

“We’ll do House of Cards, I think your vocals will be perfectly beautiful for that” Normally a compliment would be accompanied by a sugar coated gaze In your direction, not on live though, he turned without a moment’s hesitation and set up his keyboard. Fingers caressing the keys with such gentle precision as he warmed them up. The grey hoody slumped on his frame, his expressions hindered shielded underneath his black baseball cap.

“Hope you guys enjoy this” you stood tight, microphone facing side on to the camera allowing you to observe Yoongi from behind. The song had always sounded such a sexy ballad but under the keys of gentle fingers the piano made the song feel so sad, you inhaled as you nodded to Yoongi who played you into the song.

After a few bars the surroundings dissolved into the safe haven of your own room as if you were casually singing around the house. You’d even recorded a cover of this song.  Just before the last note as Yoongi finished playing his smile and shimmering eyes reached you and shoved you straight back into shyness, you laughed through the flushness once again and gave a timid bow and scurried back your chair and shrouded yourself with your hood and scanned the screens for the comments. Yoongi just chuckled and joined you back at the computer.

“That was alright” he said as non chalantly as he could through his grin which he was attempting to squash.

You flung your wrist out and flicked it across the top of him arm with wide eyes and mouth.

“Ow” he exaggerated. His pout only encouraged you to do it again.

“They keep saying we’d be an awesome couple” his hands pointing at the pair of computers. You’d both agreed to not mention any comments hinting at anything like that. Without skipping a beat, as if you’re brain hadn’t just completely panicked.

“Can you imagine?” you managed through a giggle

“Ultimate power couple” you added reflecting on Yoongi’s comment earlier. The comments were flooding in on both feeds, flashing too quick to read but you got the gist of agreement and compliments.

You ended the session after minutes of sending your love and appreciation to fans and getting caught up in another few questions. It’s worse than leaving a house party and having to say your goodbyes to everyone on the way out.

“Thought we were avoiding any couple comments?” you glared at him returning the mic stand to its home behind the electronic keyboard.

“There were just too many to ignore” he defended tugging at your belt loop leaving you falling into his chest as he lent against the desk

“Don’t creep, we said not too! And you made me sing!” your fist curled into weak fist and rested at his chest, his hands rested at your lower back but they quickly started falling out of place and slid to cup your ass.

//

The sheets were ruffled into a hot mess, his fists were bound behind his back, beautifully decorated with black silk. His whines and pants were muffled by the mattress. The muscles at his shoulder blades were deliciously twitiching as he writhed under any contact you gave him. A pillow was under his hips raising his behind which was now a precious pink taking the shape of your hand. The quiet hum of the prostate massager just only audible over Yoongi’s tired moans, the hair around his neckline was damp and refused to move when he moved.

“Had enough?” the ache between your own legs becoming unbearable, you could feel the extent of your arousal as you moved. Tugging at his hair yanking his head up from the mattress.

“Yes, god please!” satisfied with the level of desperation saturating his voice you clicked and powered down the massager stealing a relieved groan into the mattress. The soft silk tie found a new lace on the floor freeing Yoongi’s arms as the fell to his sides

“Roll over” you ordered, leaving him no time to catch his breath.

“You look so sexy all fucked out” you breathed, fingers ghosting a teasing pattern down his thighs as your body soon followed your tongue gliding in so slow whirls around his throbbing cock. You allowed the hand that had ruffled into the top of your hair to stay, the tighter the ministrations of his grip only motivating you further.

“If you don’t want me to cum you gotta…” His hips bucked slightly even under the weight of one of your arms, his grunt catching is his throat. Your eyes shot upwards beneath the smirk growing at your lips swallowing him down. Your eyes were met with a regretful satisfied glance.

“What did I say would happen if you came before I said you could?” before relishing in a cup of water at the bedside.

“That I couldn’t make you cum and you’ll do it” the pangs of disappointment oozed into his voice, the confliction of what he knew was going to happen frustrated  him yet sent a new wave of tingles rushing southward

This was fast becoming your favourite punishment for Yoongi for two reasons

1.       His pride and selfishness made it torture for him if he wasn’t the one causing you to writhe in pleasure

2.       To him it was the sexiest thing to watch and he’d end up frustrated and turned on again.

“You got it, you’ll have to listen to me moaning and touching myself when it could have been you if you did as you were told”

His body heavy with defeat against the bed as his eyes hollowed with dread and anticipation as they followed your every move as you shuffled up and laid down next to him, lightly pushing him on his side, he took your hint and rolled on his side facing away from you.

“You only deserve to hear me baby” you tease littering his shoulder blades with heavy kisses.

“You’re such a tease” he breathed.

“Mmhmm” you murmured already tracing your fingers through yourself. Fuck you were so wet honing in on your clit as you put yourself on your side and got as close to him as you could. He was going to feel every ministration of your hand as your hand brushed against his skin and your hips pushing forward slowly driving him up the wall of tease you loved to make him climb. He was going to hear all the explicit sweet nothings of you whimpering how much you much you wanted it to be his cock feeling your walls instead. How you wanted his fingers massaging your clit.

“Christ” he mumbled, barely audible through his face diving into the pillow as you cried out his name as you came over your own fingers. Your body jerking and your legs muscles tensing riding out your high.

 “I’m going to take a cold shower before you make me do something you’ll only punish me for” he announced with a sense of exhausted cheekiness, chucking himself away from you leaving you with the devilish smirk. He didn’t complain about his punishment, at all. Opting to just try and cool down, you waited a few minutes before shuffling your way through the damp covers and followed him to the bathroom.

His main bathroom was exquisite, failing to find a different word worthy of the bathroom. Even the shower was majestic. The cubicle itself was large and oblong, at one end was a sauna like wooded slated bench just out of reach of the water; that was unless you turned a separate shower head on above the bench. The main waterfall shower head was centre of one of the longer walls surrounded by grey marble tiling only covered partially by the gold coloured shelving with copious bottles of skin, hair and body washes.

 All that luxury was nothing compared to a bare Yoongi with his back to you dousing himself in water, the particles coating his skin. His behind still bearing your marks was sculpted by years of dancing; whether he like to dance or not you were certainly grateful.

“You can turn the cold off” your hands soaking up the contact from his sides, the freezing splashes rebounding off you, goose bumping your skin instantly. His hair flat against his forehead water using the strands as a runway before it landed on his chest and trailing down even further to his half erect member. This was soon remedied to full as your hands teased him

“Please don’t tease me anymore” he voice desperate and energy drained passing through a pleasing sweet smile.

“I’m done” he conceded, your skin left his as you feigned shock.

“Well I came here because I was going to let you sort that out” head dropping in the direction of his groin. “Any way you wanted seeing as you accepted your punishment with such grace but if you’re done then…” you turned in a deliberate slow movement to leave.

“Well that changes my status of done” his hand slid to secure yours, the pair of you had mirrored smug grins.

“I thought it might!” you detached yourself from him again and took a few cautious steps over to the sauna style seating at one end of the shower.

“So how do you want me” you toyed teasingly bending over hands resting on the bench giving him an eyeful he enjoyed.  After a light chuckle diffused into a hungry glare he answered

“Right there” he affirmed through a groan as he pressed into you from behind, hands trailing up your back finding their grip at the back of your neck and hair.

“And I want you crying my name out” he added with a hard thrust knocking your forward through your own pleasurable whine.

“You better make me then”

[babbushka]

Blue Moon (6/10)

New York, 1987. The air was filled with smog and the streets were ridden with crime. Just another day in paradise. Your quiet life turns upside down when a striking man moves in across from you. You’re falling, fast, into a love that could never, ever, happen…or could it?

Pale X Reader

(Could be interpreted as modern!au Kylo Ren/Reader for those who don't know who Pale is, but really this is Pale from Burn This!)

Word Count: 7.8k

Warnings: N*FW content, language, minor drug use

The apartment was, in a word, modern. Like straight out of a magazine. You had seen into it, sure, from your window, but you’d only had glimpses here and there of Pale’s place.

It was so bright, you thought, the windows letting crisp light into the open floorplan. Flooded with light. Almost overwhelming, you thought.

The walls were white, the floor was marble. All the furniture was black and sleek and chrome. There were big paintings on the walls, grand abstracts in muted shades of beige and creams.

It felt cold, you thought.

Pale was grumbling to himself, something about “getting blood all over the fuckin’ floors” as the heels of his boots clicked against the tile of the main entryway.

He turned around a corner and was gone, you figured he went to the bathroom to clean himself up.

You’d go follow him in a minute you decided, you first wanted a chance to snoop around his place – after all, he had broken into yours and invaded your privacy more times than you could count, not that you minded.

You hung in the doorway for a moment, before wandering around the open floor.

The kitchen looked professional, state of the art appliances.

There were squeaky clean counters and cabinets and an island right in the middle. There were kitchen items placed around the room, a blender, a tea pot, all sorts of jars and containers of spices or who knows what… but it didn’t look like it had been used. In fact the whole place looked like it was some display in a museum, like it was an idea of what a kitchen should be, as opposed to someone’s real kitchen as it was.

You could see the white plaque in your head now, Interior Design, New York, 1988.

The amount of alcohol on the counter was impressive, it was as if he was runnin’ a full bar with all the crystal and top shelf shit he had. You wondered if he entertained a lot before he moved to New York, to your little corner of Queens, or if he was just an alcoholic.

Either way, you walked over to it, picked up a bottle of brandy.

“VSOP.” You read softly with a smile before setting the bottle back down.

 An entertainment system was the star of the living room. Biggest fucking TV screen you’d ever seen outside of a movie theater, but what was more impressive were the speakers.

Five big speakers were set up around the room, two in the front corners of the room, two in the back corners, and one right underneath a big home unit. It could play everything it looked like – there was a slot for VHS tapes, cassette tapes, even had a little turntable for LPs.

Pale had shelves lining the wall with all sorts of music, vinyl records and cassette tapes as far as the eye could see. You ran your hand along the wall as you tried to pick some names out, but the way they were stacked you could only see the thin spines of the cover art, not much else.

You walked back to the stereo unit, pushed the little green ‘play’ triangle, and the apartment suddenly came alive.

“Shit!” You gasped, startled by the loud music filling the air, absolutely surrounding you.

You thought recognized the piece, but it was in the middle of the song so you weren’t entirely sure. Your heart was beating though, the volume of the music so overwhelmingly loud and so sudden. You didn’t know how to shut the music off and immediately panicked, twisting whatever random dials you could find, to no avail.

“Jesus, you tryin’ to give me a fuckin’ heart attack or somethin’?” Pale said behind you, making you jump.

Before you could say anything, he was reaching around you and turning the volume way down low.

“You like classical?” You asked with a laugh, feeling silly.

He looked at you funny for a second, before going back and readjusting all the dials and skipping tracks to something more peaceful, less frantic and heavy than the song that had been playing previously.

“Of course I fuckin’ like classical. Who doesn’t? You know it’s the most human fuckin’ kind of music, classical. Always thought so. No words, no lyrics, just feelings. Just emotions. Very powerful fuckin’ thing, emotions, music, the whole thing. You can close your eyes and feel somethin’ and someone else a thousand miles away can close their eyes too and they’ll feel somethin’ too. You don’t know that person, you don’t speak their language, but you both feel somethin’ listening to that. Someone wrote that a hundred years ago and you’re listenin’ to it now, feelin’ something. Ain’t that fuckin’ crazy?”

He had stepped back, hands crossed over his chest, looking at you the way he did, really lookin’ at you.

“Pretty crazy.” You agreed with a big smile, and he pinched your cheek, swooped down for a kiss before he and his boots made their way over to the kitchen.

“What was that? It sounded familiar but I can’t place it.” You followed him into the kitchen, leaning against the island.

“That’s because I fuckin’ wrote it.” He licked his teeth, making your eyebrows shoot up. “Wrote that about a good ten fuckin’ years ago. Managed to snag a full orchestra and everything. The acoustics in here don’t do it justice, but neither does that tape frankly. I always fuckin’ said we needed better microphones in the damn concert hall but no one ever fuckin’ listens to me, do they?”

“You compose?” You asked, surprised. You didn’t think that that was somethin’ he had any interest in, but something about it made sense.

“Yeah I compose. Had to do something artistic as a kid, parents didn’t want us growin’ up to be thugs or nothin’. Look how well that turned out.” Pale rolled his eyes, poured himself a finger of whiskey and threw it back.

“You’re not a thug.” You smiled, reaching out for him. “Is your hand okay?”

He immediately put his hand in yours, rushed to give it to you in that desperate way of his, desperate to touch you.

“Yeah it’ll be fine. You okay? You not mad at me or nothin’?” He asked, real serious.

“Why would I be mad?” You asked back, giving his hand a squeeze, kissing the knuckles that he had wrapped up.

“Because I smashed your Marty’s face into next fuckin’ week.” He said, frowning all sour as he smacked his lips, licked the last drops of the whiskey off them.

“First of all he ain’t my Marty. He just works downstairs, promise.” You said, looking up at him. “I don’t mind anything about anything, you know? I like you just as you are, for all the fucking mess that you are. So what if you get into fights? You were doing right be me, weren’t you?”

“Yeah.” He sniffed, and you smiled.

“So there. Why be mad? You’re a mess, but I’m a mess too. Everyone’s a fucking mess.”

“You’re not a mess, don’t say that.” He frowned but you laughed.

“Of course I am, but it’s okay. We might not have much in the way of having our shit together, but at least we got each other in some small way. That’s gotta count for something, don’t you think?”

He kept looking at you, and you wondered if you had said the wrong thing. You didn’t care, it was the truth, even if he didn’t want to admit it. That was okay, he didn’t have to.

You liked him. Liked this big fuckin’ married man who swore like a sailor and did more coke than he probably should, who drank more than he probably should, who spent more time with you than he probably should.

But he did, and he did, and he did, and fuck it all, you liked him anyway.

“You’re not a mess.” He said again, softer this time.

You only smiled kept kissing his knuckles, held his hand against your mouth and smiled some more.

“Would you dance with me if I asked you to?” You asked, the music coming to an end.

Another song started up. It was perfect just to sway to a little bit, to be held to.

“I’d do anything if you asked me to.” Pale said too casual, like it wasn’t one of those grand declarations he sometimes did.

“Come dance with me then, just for a little bit.” You squeezed his hand again, before going back to the living room, finding him right behind you as always. “Then after I want a tour of the place.”

“You’re real fuckin’ bossy ain’t you?” Pale rolled his eyes, pulled you real close to him, kissed you once.

He slipped a hand around your waist, held yours in the other. You smoothed your free hand across his shoulder, and just had to grin.

“You can’t blame a girl for bein’ curious.” You shrugged, but he only kissed you again.

You maybe weren’t the best dancer in the world, but the song made it easy – Pale made it easy. He was so big, you were always reminded of how solid and warm he was, you just wanted to rest your head on his chest, let your eyes slip closed for a minute or two as he stepped back and forth, taking you with him in lazy circles around the living room.

You opened your eyes right when the song ended, the end of the tape. It was quiet, and the room felt much emptier now.

You wondered if he always had music playing, or if he preferred it quiet.

You wondered a lot of things about him, wondered if he wondered about you.

“Those your kids?” You asked, still pressed right up against him, just happened to face a little dresser pressed up against the wall, framed photos arranged neatly on it.  

“Yeah, I gotta put their new Christmas picture up.” Pale said, his voice rumbling under your ear where you were tucked against his chest.

“They don’t look like you.” You said.

You didn’t really see any of Pale’s features in the kids, but they looked happy. You thought it was sweet he had pictures of them. No pictures of his wife though, on the little dresser anyway.

“Yeah, go figure.” Pale said, “They don’t want nothin’ to do with me anyway.”

“They don’t know what they’re missing.” You shrugged.

He chuckled, and you smiled.

He kissed you.

 When the song ended he turned the home unit off, let the last notes hang in the air, bouncing around the walls.

Without any sort of warning he just started walking away, and you immediately followed.

“You’ve already seen the kitchen and the living room, but here’s the dining room.” He said casually, gesturing to the large rectangular table that could probably seat ten people if he wanted them to.

“Why do you eat in front of the stove when you’ve got such a big table?” You couldn’t help but ask, remembering back to the first few days of watching him from your window, how he would always scarf down a bowl of cereal before dashing out the door.

“Because it’s too fuckin’ big.” He said with a bit of a shrug, and your heart hurt.

Too big when no one sits at it, you could almost hear him saying.

 You rounded a corner and all of a sudden were faced with a baby grand piano, all shiny sleek and dark stained wood, right in the middle of the room.

“Wow.” You said, unable to hold back how impressed you were with it. You didn’t recognize the maker, but it was stunning nonetheless.

“Do you play?” He asked, head cocked all interested.

You blushed, shrugged.

“I know the opening to Eine Kleine Nachtmusik.” You said, and he groaned.

“Go fuckin’ figure – Mozart.” He grumbled, making you laugh brightly.

“You don’t like Mozart?” You crossed your arms over your chest, walked over to the piano.

You lifted the keylid, played half a minute’s worth of music just to spite him. Your fingers were clumsy, but well, that wasn’t the point.

He was watching you with hungry eyes, it made you hot. Everything about this was making you hot.

“Nah, he’s overplayed.” He sneered, waved a hand around and walked over to join you, sitting down at the bench.

Your pulse quickened, eager to hear him.

“Who do you like then?” You asked, resting your hands on his shoulders, standing behind him.

“Beethoven.” He shrugged, easy breezy, like Beethoven wasn’t just as well known as Mozart.

“Play some Beethoven.” You said, a bit of a teasing dare to your voice.

He turned to look at you, but you smiled at him, and he rolled his eyes. Cracking his knuckles and making a whole big show of straightening his back, he let his hands hover over the keys for a moment or two…before tapping out the first few notes of Fur Elise, and shutting the lid.

“You think you’re real funny, don’t you?” You laughed, and he was up in an instant, kissing and kissing you.

“You’re laughin’, ain’t ya?” He asked, echoing something you had said ages and ages ago.

He pinched your chin in his fingers and slid his tongue into your mouth, before pulling away, walking away from the piano.

 “Bathroom, office, and bedroom.” Pale said, waving a hand to each respective room.

The bedroom was impressive, how was it so big? Maybe it wasn’t even that big, maybe it was just in comparison to your room that it felt massive.

You sat down on the king sized bed, laid down on your back and spread your arms out wide. There was still room enough on each side for you, your hands weren’t hanging off the mattress like they would at home.

“Shit Pale, and you’ve been fucking me in my shitty room this whole time?” You asked, mostly joking. You knew he had his reasons, you knew.

“Don’t fuckin’ say that. Your room is nice.” He grumbled, stepping out of his boots at the door. You realized you should’ve probably kicked yours off too, but he was already walking over to you, already climbing on top of you, caging you in his arms. “Yours is cozy. I like it a lot fuckin’ better than here.”

“We don’t have to stay, if you don’t want. We can go back to mine.” You said, letting your hands slide under his shirt and jacket, smooth up his back.

You knew he needed to come back here out of necessity, but now that his hand was all wrapped, it didn’t matter much where you went. If he preferred your place, you didn’t mind leaving this comfortable bed.

Surprisingly, he shook his head, started kissing at your neck.

“Nah, now that I’ve got you here…” He sat back a little, shrugged out of his clothes, hands at the clasps and buttons of your own random clothes you had pulled on chasing Pale out of the apartment, “I figure why the fuck not break in the apartment the good ol’ fuckin’ fashioned way?”

You grinned.

Of course he’d want to get in between your legs, you thought.

You nodded, helped him get you naked, just the way he liked. You liked how his blankets felt under you, liked the feeling of the satin sheets against your back, on your hair.

The sun was starting to set, the orange light from the big bright sun making the whole room warm.

Pale stepped out of his pants, tugged his briefs down before getting his hands all over you, grabbing at you the way he did.

He reached over on his bedside table, pulled out a little vial, tipped a bit of coke out right onto your chest, right on the smooth place between your tits. His nose tickled as he snorted it up.

“You gonna be good for me?” He asked, arranging your legs how he wanted, and you nodded, eager.

“Aren’t I always?” You asked back. You could tell he wanted to smile, but he just grabbed at your jaw, pried your mouth open instead.

“Suck.” He said, pressing a couple fingers into your mouth, rubbing them against your tongue.

You licked and sucked on them enough to get them wet, drooling all over them, so much so that when he pulled away there were little strands of spit hanging from his fingers, stuck to your lips.

He wasted very little time in shoving them into your cunt, rubbing at your walls, stroking your pussy from the inside out.

You moaned, sighed real happy for him, unafraid of neighbors pounding on the wall. He had such a look of concentration on his face, his eyebrows pinched together like he was angry.

He fingered you until your cunt was making squelching noises from how wet it was, until your thighs started to shake with anticipation.

“Please, Pale,” You said, pushing your hips up into his hand, “Please give me your cock.”

“You want it?” He asked, baring his teeth at you in that way of his, making you hot hot hot all over.

“Yeah.” You said, were ready to beg, you’d beg if he wanted you to.

He didn’t ask you to, just lined himself up and pressed into you, didn’t stop until he was all the way in, hips flush with yours.

Still after all the fucking, after all the time spent in bed together, he was still big. The stretch of him burned in all the right ways, especially when he readjusted himself and the head of his cock knocked against your cervix, making you cry around.

“You’re so fucking tight,” He pushed you up the bed with his hips, his thighs tensing as he supported his weight on his arms, still caging you, “Perfect fucking whore. Say it.”

“I’m a whore, your whore.” You said right away, arching your chest, pushing your tits against him. “Fuck me Pale, please, I need it.”

And did he ever deliver.

He groaned, began thrusting his hips hard. He was never gentle, but you never wanted him to be. You wanted him to make you moan and cry and beg, and he always always did.

He was all grunts and groans and hard pants against your neck, pushing and moving in and out of you, his cock filling you up and up and up.

“You fucking like it?” He asked, and asked, and you nodded, moaned for him.

“Yeah, I like it, I like it Pale – Pale!” You sucked in a breath right as he bit down onto your shoulder, sunk his teeth there.

You had bite marks all over you, big red splotches hidden behind sweaters. You didn’t know what you were going to fucking do when springtime came around, how you were going to cover yourself up without getting heatstroke then.

“You’re my fucking slut.” He growled, sucking a dark hickey to your throat.

“I’m yours Pale, only yours.” You agreed, grasped at his hair, at his strong slippery biceps.

You turned your head and kissed a beauty spot right on his arm, before he occupied your mouth with his own.

The bed didn’t so much as squeak underneath you, but you moaned, fogged up the inside of the glass windows, made your mark on the place.

He was so sweaty, it felt like a sauna above you, sweat dripping down onto your face and tits. He watched it, watched them bounce, took one hand and smeared it into your skin, held your mouth open and let droplets land on your tongue, falling from his hair and nose.

You let him, you loved it, wanted it.

He fucked you hard, so hard, you could feel yourself bruising from the inside hard.

“I’m gonna fucking come all over you.” He said, scowling. “I’m gonna come on those tits.”

“Do it, come on me – come on me Pale.” You breathed, getting so close, so so close to coming.

He could tell, he was getting real good at being able to tell, and he fucked you hard, leaned down to suck on one of your nipples, made you come on his cock.

Every time it was mind-blowing, how good of an orgasm he gave you. He’d been fucking you all day with magic stamina, but each time it was just as good. Everything was fuzzy, you were almost dizzy with it. The light behind your eyelids was so warm, every single fiber and cell on your body was buzzing; you felt like you had fireworks in your nerves.

You were so wrapped up in your own head that you didn’t even notice him pull out, take his cock in his hand and come all over your tits, pearly and sticky and salty on your chest.

You cracked an eye open once you felt him smearing it all over you, mixing with your sweat and his sweat, smudging it into your skin.

He was breathing hard, and you let your hands come up around him, hug him close to you. You didn’t even care about the sticky gross noise that his skin made when it stuck to yours from his own come, just wanted to hold him.

It had been a fucking wild twenty-four hours.

Your stomach growled really loud right then, and you could feel Pale huff a laugh against your neck.

“Give me a fuckin’ minute, we’ll clean up and I’ll make you something to eat.” He said, a hand on your stomach, giving it a light pat before rolling off of you.

You smiled, content.

You turned to face the windows, when realization struck you.

“That’s my apartment.” You said.

In hindsight, that was stupid, because of course that was your apartment. You’d just never seen it from this angle before, never saw it how Pale saw it. You wondered if he thought it was strange seeing his own place from your room, that first time.

It felt so far away, but maybe that was just because you were so happy to be with Pale, the whole rest of the world felt far away.

“Yeah it is, perfect fuckin’ view of you from my room, ain’t it?” Pale sighed, struck up a cigarette, the smoke hanging lazily in the air. “Don’t you get why I had to have you? Lookin’ into your windows every god damned day, you teasin’ me like the whore you are.”

He breathed out of his nose, and you smiled.

“Don’t forget, I can see into yours too.” You pointed out.

You were just as responsible for all this as he was, in fact you were the one who started this whole thing.

He did smile then, smiled and smoked his cigarette.

 You cleaned up, used the bathroom, even took a quick shower before you found yourself wrapped up in the biggest, softest robe you’d ever felt.

He didn’t tell you where or when he got it, didn’t tell you nothing, just handed over the thing and told you to put it on. It had the initial of your first name embroidered right on the breast. You smiled.

You sat at his dining table, wearing nothing but the robe and the gold chain – you hadn’t taken it off once, Pale did something very close to blushing when you told him – and ate his dinner.

He sat next to you, an arm around your shoulder, and you thought this was the most domestic thing you’d ever done in your life. You decided to keep that sentiment to yourself.

“It’s getting late.” You said, nodding over to the windows.

The sun had gone down officially, and the light from the streetlamps was sending soft shadows all over. The little digital clock on the wall read it was getting close to midnight.

“You gotta go into work tomorrow?” He asked, smoking his cigarette and taking a big gulp of brandy.

“Yeah, Fish only let me take the day off. I don’t gotta be there right at six though.” You replied, feeling bummed. You didn’t want to leave him just yet.

“Let’s go back to your place, go the fuck to sleep. You’re gonna need sleep after all the shit that happened today.” Pale said, blowing smoke all over.

“Okay.” You smiled. You wondered if that was his way of saying he wanted to go to sleep, had to pin it on you so he wouldn’t look too tired.

“Let me take you out tomorrow, huh? You workin’ a double or what?” He asked, chewing on some steak thoughtfully.

“No, but since I’m going in later I should be done around six.” You said around a bite of the potatoes. “Where do you wanna go?”

“I want to take you into the city, give you a good dinner and take you to a show.” He stood up, took his plate to the sink, leaving you in the dining room.

It didn’t matter much, you could still see him across the way.

“Are we taking the subway?” You asked, excited. You liked it, wanted to hop on it again, wanted to ride him in the little rubber seat.

“No, I’m gonna pick you up, we’ll drive over.” He shook his head, making you excited for a different reason altogether.

“I haven’t been in your car yet.” You said, picking your plate up and padding barefoot across the cold tile to join him near the sink.

“Yeah I know, I hate bringing the fucking thing out of the lot. No one knows how to drive here and there’s no god damned parking so what’s even the fuckin’ point?” He took your plate, and you hopped up on the counter of the island.

“We don’t have to take it.” You said, not wanting him to get all worked up after he went and fucked all the energy out of him.

He stood between your thighs, put his hands on your waist and kissed you, real deep and slow, enough to make you sigh against his lips – before pinching your nipples and pulling away.

“Sure we do.” He said, “Now come on, fuckin’ hurry up and put your shoes on, you need some sleep.”

“You want me to cross the street in my robe?” You raised an eyebrow at him.

“It’s not even half a fuckin’ block, you’re covered, I’ll fuckin’ cover you the rest of the way.” He huffed.

He must really be tired then, you thought.

 And he was, head barely hitting your pillow before you could hear soft snores rumbling deep in his chest.

You watched him for a little bit, the best that you could anyway, from the angle you were at. He was laying on his side, had you tucked against him, your nose resting right against his throat.

It was cold outside, bits of new year’s frost hanging on the windows, but you were warm and cozied up against Pale, and even if for only a little bit, you thought you really had started the year off with calm.

You had good dreams, for the first time in a long time.

Dreams filled with fucking and laughter and rowboats on central park lake. Of his leather jacket draped over your shoulders as he runs his mouth about the cocksuckers that don’t know how to fuckin’ fish.

Good dreams.

You didn’t know if you were still dreaming, when you woke up.

You were tucked against Pale, as you always were it felt like, but he was talking. Was he talking? Or were you dreaming?

“…and you deserve so much, you fuckin’ know that?” He spoke just above a whisper, just low enough that maybe you couldn’t hear it, maybe you were hallucinating it.

You tried not to make it obvious, didn’t want him to catch you. You kept your breathing even, drooled a little on his throat.

“You’re too good. I fuckin’ mean that. Too good to me, for me. I look at you and I wonder how did I ever get so fuckin’ lucky? So good to me.”

He was crying, you could feel the wetness in your hair, could feel how fast his heart was beating in his chest, right where your sleep-sweaty hand was pressed against it.

“You scare the shit outta me. Abso-fuckin-lutely terrify me. You hold my whole fuckin’ life in your hands and you could throw it away and that’d be the fuckin’ end of me. And then what the fuck would I do?” He whispered, and you almost cried then too.

“Worst fuckin’ part is…I’d let you. God knows I’d let you.” He sighed.

He pet your hair back, kissed the top of your head.

It hit you so strong, all of a sudden, how much you loved him.

You really, truly loved him.

And maybe he loved you too, maybe maybe maybe.

You fell back asleep.

Pale wasn’t there when you woke up again.

Didn’t leave a note or nothing, didn’t bother. You knew he’d come pick you up after your shift, and that was enough for you. You had slept in late, he probably had to go into work himself.

 You took a quick bath, washed your hair and scrubbed your skin so you wouldn’t smell like you’d been having marathon sex, and put on squeaky clean clothes.

 The diner was back to it’s full rush when you got there right at ten, the excitement over the New Year over.

1988, what a year. It sounded better than 1987, you thought, rolled off the tongue easier.

“Happy new year (Y/N)!” Fishel happily greeted you as you passed Maria who was on her way out.

“Hey Fish! Happy new year.” You gave him a kiss on the cheek, took your apron and hat out of your cubby and immediately started the coffee pots brewing. “Did you and Chaya do anything to celebrate?”

“Yeah, took her to a real nice French place outta town.” He said, pride in his voice. You loved how much Fish loved his wife, they had been together for over fifty years, and you could tell it was fifty years of pure affection.

There weren’t that many French places in town though, unless you went into the city, and you knew Fish wasn’t a fan of the subway.

“Oh yeah? Which one?” You asked, curious, wondering if it was –

“La Rêverie, ever been there?” He asked, making you laugh.

“No kidding! Yeah I’ve been there, I know…a guy who works there.” You weren’t sure what to call Pale, if you were allowed to call him anything.

Maybe you’d ask him tonight at dinner.

You remembered how he had called you his girl, how he had said you were his woman. Maybe he was your man too.

“Your man, right? Pale?” Fish asked, seemingly making the decision for you. “I thought I’d seen him there before once or twice, he’s a real big fella, hard to miss.”

Fish put two brunch orders up on the counter and rang the little bell, and you went right to work, taking them over to Mark or Mike or whatever his name was’ table.

“Yeah he is.” You said over your shoulder, continuing the conversation with Fish as you handed menus to some more people who just walked in.

“He wasn’t there for New Years though.” Fish said with a smile.

“He better not have been, he spent the holiday with me.” You laughed again, handing out more menus and seating more people.

You took a couple orders, walked the tickets back over to the pickup window for Fish and the cooks to take.

“Good, you were worrying me there for a minute.” Fishel said with a smile.

“Fish don’t you worry about me, you got too much to worry about as it is.” You reassured him, checking the coffee pots.

They were just about finished, and you anxiously tapped your fingers on the counter, watching the pots fill up as more people came into the diner.

“I know I know, but you’re family, and I don’t like seeing family so glum the way you were.” He said sincerely, and you wanted to give him a big hug.

You were kind of embarrassed how sad Pale being gone had made you, you thought you had done a pretty good job of keeping it together, but evidently not. In any case, you had customers, and you knew Fish was busy enough without talking to you about men that may or may not be yours.

“Speaking of family, did you ever call back your brother?” You asked, which did the trick of having the old man throw his hands up at you good-naturedly, retreating back into the kitchen.

“Oh go pour coffee why don’t ya.” He grumbled, and you laughed, doing just that.

Like a blink of an eye, six o’clock showed up.

And right on time, so did Pale.

The little bell of the front door rang, and you looked up from the counter you were wiping down to see his broad shoulders making their way towards you.

“You’re very punctual.” You said, before he pulled you close to him and stuck his tongue down your throat. He tasted like cigarettes, it was bitter and sharp and you moaned against it.

“Time is money sweetheart.” He said when he broke the kiss, not caring one bit about the family right across the diner making faces. “You all good to get the fuck out of here?”

“Yeah, I just have to change.” You nodded with a smile, kissed his cheek.

“Don’t fuckin’ worry about it, I brought you some new clothes, they’re in my car.” He said, jabbing a thumb out to the parking lot, where his shiny black car sat.

“You bought me new clothes?” You grinned, wondering how he had figured your sizes out.

“’Course I did, didn’t I fuckin’ tell you I brought you a bunch of shit from Miami?” He scoffed, and you nodded, he was right, he did tell you. “I didn’t fuckin’ forget, I just was a little preoccupied with this sweet pussy right here.” He let a hand wander down to the front of your skirt, rub right at your crotch.

“Pale.” You laughed, pushing his hand away, biting your lip to stop from grinning. You didn’t want to get fired – inappropriate workplace activity.

“(Y/N), you heading out?” Fishel asked, making you even more aware of your surroundings.

You held Pale’s hand in your own, the only way to stop it from shoving into your underwear right then and there, and turned to your boss.

“Yeah Fish, did you need me for something else?” You asked, desperately hoping that he didn’t. You wanted to go with Pale, wherever he was going to take you.

“Nah, just wanted to say goodbye before you slipped outta the door.” Fish gave you a warm smile, happy to see you standing next to your man.

You were ready to turn around and leave when Pale offered his other hand – the one that hadn’t been trying to get into your cunt – to shake.

“Are you the owner here?” He asked, and Fishel grinned, taking the hand in his own.

“Yes sir, name’s Fischel.” Your boss said.

“Pale, very good to meet you.” Pale introduced himself, surprising you.

“Good to meet you too. I was just telling (Y/N) earlier today that I went to your restaurant for dinner last night – superb.” Fishel kissed his fingertips and smiled.

Pale took great interest in that, and you wondered if you’d ever get to leave now.

“What’d you order?” He asked, his thumb rubbing circles on the back of your hand.

“The duck, it was great, Chaya – my wife – wouldn’t stop talkin’ about it.” Fish replied.

“Chaya’s got good taste.” Pale nodded, clearly pleased.

You gave Fishel a look, and he laughed, put his hands up.  

“Alright, don’t let me hold you two kids up. Good to meet you Pale, have a good night (Y/N).” He waved goodbye to you.

“Good night Fish, I’ll see you tomorrow.” You waved back, before leading the way out of the diner.

 The air was much cooler outside, it was downright fucking freezing. You sometimes forgot how warm the diner got, between the kitchen and the people and all the lights and everything. It was just barely getting to sunset, and already it was freezing fucking cold.

Pale huddled around you, kept you warm through the thin layers of your clothes, led you to his car.

“He treats you good?” He asked, sticking the key in the trunk and popping the lock, opening it to reveal many wrapped boxes and gift bags.

None of them had any name tags written on them, but you were sure they were for you. You smiled, blushed when he pulled out a big gift bag that had pink tissue paper sticking out of the top of it.

“Yeah, he does. A bit of a grump sometimes, but only when it’s raining. Bothers his knees.” You explained with a shrug.

“Come here, put this on.” He pulled out the dress, a beautiful sparkly number – black and short and covered in beads that reflected the light real nice.

He handed it to you, and you looked around.

“In the parking lot?” You asked, making him huff out a laugh. What? You thought, you’d do stranger things in a parking lot if he wanted you to.

“Nah, go in the backseat. Should be enough fuckin’ room to shimmy into it, I’ll zip you up. No one’s lookin’.” He said, unlocking the doors for you.

“Okay.” You said with a smile, laying down on the bench seats and changing as efficiently as you could.

It was difficult, would have definitely been easier standing, but Pale kept his word and stood in front of the door, blocked anyone’s view of you naked in his backseat. He had his back to you, you wondered if it was to keep him from fucking you right then and there.

“It fit good?” He finally asked, once you were knocking on the window to be let out.

“Yeah, like a dream.” You said, presenting your back to him so he could do up the zipper.

He handed you a big coat too, slipped your arms into the satin lining, warming you up right away.

“You look real fuckin’ nice.” He said, hands immediately groping at your tits, sliding down, feeling the way the dress sat on your hips.

“How far away is the restaurant?” You asked, preening under his touch.

He opened the passenger door for you, let you get settled in, before going around and getting into the driver’s seat, starting the car up.

“Not too far, why – hungry?” He asked.

You crossed your legs, leaned into him. He reversed out of the spot, and pulled onto the main road, leaving the diner far behind as he drove away.

You let your hand rest on his, right on the gearshift.

“Yeah, I’m starving.” You said, making him groan.

“Don’t fuckin’ get me started sweetheart, I have plans for you after the fuckin’ show.” He warned, taking your hand and bringing it to his, biting your palm and then kissing it to soothe the minor pain.

“Okay okay.” You laughed, settled back down.

His car was real nice, clean. You hadn’t been in a clean car in a long time, you almost forgot how new things could look. It looked very futuristic, all black and white, just like his apartment. You smiled at the theme you were starting to notice.

“What kinda car is this?” You asked, knowing nothing about them but wanting to know about Pale, about what he liked.

“Buick regional grand national.” He said right off the bat, making you smile.

“That’s a lot of words.” You said, and he smiled too.

“It’s a lot of car.” He pointed to a very complicated looking set of dials and buttons, “Lookit, even got a tape player right in the fuckin’ dashboard.”

“What do you have in there right now?” You were curious, pressing the ‘play’ button, music smoothly sounding.

“I like to drive to Chopin, don’t give me too bad road rage.” He explained when you gave him a big smile, him and his classical.

It was quiet for a little while, for once Pale didn’t have much to say, just listening to the music and paying attention to driving.

Your hand rested on his hand for a long while, but then you let it wander on down to his knee, even that was big and strong under your touch.

You thought he looked so handsome, with his hair like that, his silk shirt open right at the collar, the gold chain glinting in the light of the slowly setting sun.

“You’re real handsome.” You told him so. Was it the first time you’d told him? “I’ve always thought so.”

“You blind or something?” He scowled, but you frowned.

“Nope. I got twenty-twenty, and you’re handsome.” You insisted, making him suck his teeth, run a hand through his hair, all self-conscious now.

“I’m glad you think so. Not too many people would agree.” He was trying to be real tough, but you could see the hint of color on the tips of his ears where he had ruffled his hair.

You brought your hand up to fix his hair, set the waves the way you knew he liked.

“They don’t gotta agree, I’m your girl, aren’t I?” You asked with a big smug grin, fully expecting to be teased.

“Yeah, you are.” He said instead.

You only smiled at that, put your hand back down on his knee.

Your hand crept closer and closer to where you knew his cock was hidden away under all his layers, ran your hand up his thigh, could feel the muscles twitching there. You loved to make him twitch like that, love it.

His knuckles tightened on the steering wheel.

“You tryin’ to get us into a fuckin’ accident? That what you’re doin’?” Pale said, not doing a single thing to stop you.

You only hummed a little laugh and kept rubbing against him, mouth watering at the way his cock filled out under your touch.

“No you’re a real good driver, I’m not worried.” You said, licked your lips.

You wondered if you could get away with blowing him, right there in the car as he drove.

You reached over the gearshift with your other hand now too, started popping open the little clasp right at the closure of his zipper, eased it down. You wanted to pull his cock out, wanted to get it in your mouth, suck him off, make him feel good. His hips were getting all jumpy, like he wanted to fuck into your hands, but you’d do one better for him.

You adjusted yourself, bent over and started kissing the base of his dick, wet kisses all the way up to the head, making Pale groan.

“Jesus, I can’t fucking think straight with you touchin’ me like that, hold on.” He said with a growl, licked his lips.

He pulled off the road, came to a stop in an abandoned parking lot of some shopping center you’d never been in. It was dark, cars zipped past on the main road, nobody stopping to take notice of you – perfect.

“Pale, please can I?” You asked, all breathy, and you could hear his jaw clench with how eager he was.

He pushed the seat back just enough to give you more room as you leaned back over, he tangled a hand in your hair and guided your head down.

“Yeahyeah, suck my dick sweetheart, go on.” He encouraged you.

He groaned low when you sucked in earnest, hollowed out your cheeks. You could taste the salt of him, the way his cock dripped onto your tongue as it rubbed against your throat.

He had almost gotten it all the way down your throat pretty easy, but you still needed some time, still had to relax enough for him, try not to gag – even though you knew he loved it when you gagged on his cock.

“You feel real fuckin’ good you slut. You’re getting better and better at this every fuckin’ time – better at takin’ my cock. That’s it, you look real good, feel real good.” He said, the hand in your hair tight. “This mouth was made to get fucked, made for my cock.”

You moaned around him, he took the opportunity to force your head further down. Tears were pricking at the corners of your eyes, just from the size of him, but you pushed through, breathed through your nose, sucked and licked and kissed his cock like it was your favorite fucking thing, and it was, seconded only to the man it belonged to.

Your nose was pressed right up against his skin, all in his pubic hair. He smelled so musky, like pure sex, it filled your head with a sweet fog that had you moaning again.

You could tell he wanted to be rougher, but this wasn’t the best position, wasn’t the best way. You were focused on making him feel good, rubbing your hands on his thighs and taking as much of him as you could.

You moaned like a whore, moaned loud for him – no one was around, who would hear? No one, just Pale, and you liked making noise for Pale, liked the way he tensed whenever he heard it, liked the way it spurred him on.

Maybe he’d fuck you right, in the car. Spread you out in the backseat and push your legs apart and shake the fucking thing, make the whole car bounce. He was strong enough, he could do it, maybe you’d ask him too.

He cursed real loud and came, hot and salty down your throat. He pulled his cock out just enough to rub the head of it on your tongue, coming and coming in your mouth. You couldn’t tell what was dripping down your chin, if it was spit or come or both.

Either way, he didn’t stop, didn’t pull his cock all the way away, kept it in your mouth until the very last drop oozed out of him.

“Be a good girl and swallow.” He said, looking down at you with his face all pinched like he did, and you did as you were told, swallowing down and then swallowing again. “Let me see.”

You opened your mouth, stuck out your tongue for him. He pinched it between his fingers, held your jaw in place as he kissed you.  

“Good?” You asked against his lips.

“Real good princess, now keep your fuckin’ hands to yourself until we get to the damn restaurant, okay?” Pale said, giving your jaw a little shake before letting it go.

You ignored him, put your hand right over his on the gear shift, but he didn’t tell you to move the whole rest of the way there.

I hope you all enjoyed this chapter! A bit more touchy-feely than the previous ones, but i hope y’all liked it just the same :) Got some big stuff coming for the next couple of chapters, and thought this one would be a nice break! 

Tagging some pals, as always please let me know if you’d like to be added or taken off the tag list! @fullofbees @spinebarrel@dreamboatdriver @thecurlycaptain @bourbonboredom @driverficarchive @aweirdlookingtree @rosalynbair @redhairedfeistynerd @adamsnackdriver @glitzescape @arwarz @adamsnacc-kler @kyloxfem @fallin-for-youreyes @kylo-renne @attorneyl

[mistymark]

the one with the feelings [1] // m.k.l

mark lee x reader // 1.9k words // part 1/2 // masterlist

summary; in which mark and y/n have a lot of feelings but never at the same time apparently // the times we fought our feelings for each other and the one time we didn’t

warnings; drinking // light angst? // heartache

request; no I just saw this prompt and loved it

notes; why does this remind me of love, Rosie (I cried three times in that movie)

October 2012, age 13

The squeaky sounds of sneakers on the polished wooden floor and the bouncing of basketballs was all you could hear as you watched the other students run around, throwing and catching balls between them with grins on their faces. Spinning around, you searched for Mark, your best friend and latest crush - after having helped you clean your wound after you scraped your knee on the asphalt at school.

Nowhere to be found, you decided to duck under the back of the bleachers, your secret sanctuary when you didn’t want to partake in PE. Lifting the curtain to allow yourself entry, you saw Mark, grinning at a figure in the dark.

It took you a moment to notice their interlocking fingers, their touching shoulders, their legs brushing against each other’s as they squished together on the bench. Letting the curtain fall from your grasp, you hang your head and disappear into the bathrooms, unseen.

February 2014, age 14

You sat on the rickety chair in your ill-fitting school-dance outfit, watching the couples dance awkwardly on the dance floor. Spotting Mark across the dance floor, standing beside the drinks table as he waits for an opportunity to stop talking to one of your teachers, his hands casually resting in his suit pant pockets. The jacket hangs off his skinny frame a little too much, making him appear smaller than he actually was.

A few moments later, he was walking over to you, two cups of the terrible punch in his hands as he narrowly dodged the dancing people in his path. A grin found itself on your face as he sat beside you, passing you one of the cups.

You sat together for a while, talking mindlessly about the dance and school and whatever else came to mind that night. When there was a bout of silence, Mark placed his cup on the floor, wiping his slightly sweaty palms on his pants as he tried to muster up the courage to ask you to dance. His mouth suddenly went dry.

Within a second, a hand was being outstretched to you, the smiling face of one of the boys in your class looking down at you, asking you to dance. Having not yet been asked to dance, you eagerly grabbed his hand, letting him pull you out of your chair and onto the dance floor. 

Mark stayed sitting, waiting for you to come back. Waiting to ask you to dance.

August 2017, age 18

The flashing lights and loud bass was slowly starting to make you feel numb, but you watched with a grin on your face as Mark danced on his living room table, the small wooden piece of furniture barely supporting his weight as he moved. 

You had lost count of your alcohol intake, and Mark was clearly drunk, dancing haphazardly on top of the table. When the song ended, one of the boys nearby turned down the volume of the speakers, yelling, “Speech! Speech!”

Soon enough, everyone was chanting for Mark to deliver a speech, and he stood casually atop the table as he handed his beer to someone next to him. He addressed the crowd, “You’re all here! It’s my birthday, thank you.” His eyes found yours, “Oh, Y/n! Come here.” When you didn’t move, he waved you over again.

Eventually you stood below him, looking up at him in confusion, whisper shouting up at him, “What are you doing?” Your foggy brain struggled to focus on Mark as you watched him sway lightly on his feet.

He grinned at you and grabbed your arm, helping you up onto the table. When you were stood safely beside him, he wrapped his arm around your waist, “Everyone! Tonight would not have been made possible without Y/n,” he turned to look you in the eyes, his face serious, “my best friend.”

There was a beat before someone started cheering, and then the music was slowly being turned up as people turned to each other, happily chatting and resuming their dancing.

You stood still on the top of the coffee table with Mark, his arm still wrapped tightly around you, his eyes staring into yours. His gaze flickered to your lips, and he stared at them for a while, silently debating whether he should go for it.

And he did.

Suddenly his lips were on yours and your hands were cupping his face, his arm holding you against him as his other hand rested on the back of your neck.

With the cloudiness of your brain and the sensation of Mark kissing you, you found it difficult to focus on your surroundings, but the obvious squeak of the table was enough to pull you from the haze. With great difficulty, you pushed yourself away and stepped off the table, tugging Mark’s hand so he followed you.

Before Mark’s foot met the ground, the table was crumbling, snapping in half at the added weight and movement from your actions. He winced drunkenly at the table, then decided it was best to go find a sensible adult to deal with the problem, quickly making his way to the kitchen and abandoning you.

December 2017, age 18

You sat silently on the porch of your house, the porch swing creaking as you swung slowly, your gaze fixated on your feet. Christmas was always a busy time for your family, with all the parties and events your family hosted, but it seemed that no one had come looking for you yet, so you found yourself in the only quiet part of your house; the open porch.

There was a door slam on the street, and you looked up as Mark’s parents stepped out of their car, his mother carrying a large wrapped gift and his father a tray of dessert. Mark, dressed in a suit jacket and black jeans, stepped out of the car only to run back to grab something he’d left.

His parents continued up the drive to your house, greeting you with their warm smiles, “Hi, dear. How have your holidays been?”

You grinned back at them, noticing again how much of his parents you could see in Mark, “Brilliant, thank you.” You pointed your thumb in the direction of the front door. “Party’s inside.”

They nodded and smiled a little wider when they realised you weren’t coming inside with them, but you dismissed it as you continued lazily swinging on the porch swing.

A moment later, Mark was jogging up the drive, taking the stairs two steps at a time to reach you, puffing slightly, “Hey.”

You continued swinging, a smile on your face, “Hey.”

He stood up straighter, examining the outside of your house, “The place looks great. New door?”

“New door,” you nodded. 

“Looks good,” he stuffed his hands in his jean pockets, nodding to himself.

You raised an eyebrow, “I haven’t seen you in, like, a month and all you have to say is that my door looks good?”

“It’s not the only thing,” he smirked at you, pleased with himself before untucking his hands and making his way over to sit beside you. “I got you something.”

“You- what? No, Mark, you didn't have to! I didn’t get you anything,” you were suddenly ashamed of yourself; why hadn’t you gotten him a gift?

“Oh, come on, it’s not a big deal,” he shrugged, smiling and handing you a small box. “It’s nothing big, I promise.”

You stared at him for a moment before nodding, turning to look eagerly at the small box before you. Mark chuckled at your excitement. You opened the lid, “It’s - woah! It’s the friendship bracelet I made you ages ago!”

“When we were nine,” he corrected, beaming down at the tiny bracelet, glad that you’d remembered.

“Is this you returning my gift? You don’t want to be friends anymore?” 

“No! I thought - I thought you’d like it. I found it a few weeks ago-”

“I can’t believe you kept it.”

He shrugged, eyeing the bracelet and avoiding your face, “No big deal.”

You grinned, throwing your arms around him, “Thank you. I love it.”

You felt him hesitate for a moment before letting his arms wrap around you, holding you warmly in his embrace, the bracelet hanging off your fingers as you breathed in the scent of him, enjoying the moment.

January 2018, age 18

“1! Happy New Year!” The crowd cheered with excitement as the large ball on the television dropped, before images of people cheering, kissing and drinking populated the screen.

Your friend stood beside you, a glass raised to her lips, “You’re driving tonight, right?” You nodded, and she grinned, “Looks like I’m starting this year the same way I did last, drunk as fuck.” She toasted to you politely before proceeding to drain her glass, walking into the kitchen to find another.

There was a tap on your shoulder and you spun around, your eyes meeting Mark’s. The music started up again as the party continued, and dancing bodies swarmed onto the dance floor of the host’s living room, somebody harshly bumping into Mark, causing him to step forward, his chest merely inches from your own.

“Hey,” he breathed, his hands holding your waist from when he’d almost tripped. “Happy New Year.”

“Happy New Year,” you whispered back. You weren’t sure if he could hear you, but he seemed to understand. “Any kisses this year?”

His eyes found themselves on your lips again as he leant closer, “Only one.” His lips met yours softly, the loudness and wildness of the party juxtaposing the sweet, sober moment between you two.

You pulled back, “What was that for?”

He bit his lip in an attempt to hide his smile, “I had to know what it was like.”

“What what was like?”

“Kissing you.”

February 2018, age 18

[2:47pm] Mark: got any plans this afternoon?

[2:50pm] You: not really, just packing the last of my stuff

[2:50pm] Mark: wdym?

[2:50pm] You: for college dummy

[2:51pm] You: I leave in two weeks remember

[2:51pm] You: gotta be ready :))

[2:52pm] Mark: ofc I cant believe I forgot

[2:52pm] Mark: must be bc im gonna miss you ://

[2:52pm] You: oh shut up ur such a drama queen

[2:53pm] Mark: bc ur not dramatic enough!!

[2:53pm] Mark: im not gonna see you in forever

[2:53pm] You: I’m literally going to be at ur brothers engagement party what is wrong with you

[2:54pm] Mark: I hate talking to you im gonna go pack

[2:55pm] Mark: promise you’ll be there?

[2:57pm] You: of course

April 2018, age 18

You groaned and hit the horn again, the long highway before you backed up far into the distance. The grey sky contrasted against the severity of the red brake lights ahead of you, glowering angrily at you from where they stood, unmoving. Anxious, you fiddled with the blue material of your cocktail dress, the white envelope sitting on the seat beside you, the time and place of Mark’s brother’s engagement party printed neatly on the card inside; 6pm at the Grand Wyatt Hotel. You glanced wearily at the clock on your dash, the numbers steadily increasing until 6pm hit, and later passed.

[disregardcanon]

important modern westeros headcanons concerning the extended stark clan for my own modern au 

important details to know 

married couples: brandon and barbrey, ned and cat (duh), rickard and lyarra, hoster and minisa, brynden and unspecified beautiful man, and edmure and roslin

the starks, as we know them, are not The Starks Of Winterfell, they’re like their sixth cousins who live in winterfell the town (not the castle). they still have some runoff money from being related to them but they’re not the absurdly old money that The Starks Of Winterfell TM are. rickard and lyarra and then brandon and barbrey are at the cusp of between upper and upper middle class and then ned, lya, and benjen who didn’t go into the family business are towards the bottom of upper middle. 

rickard stark is a shrewd and calculating businessman. he doesn’t ever coast through deals on the stark name, but he doesn’t like. avoid using it either. out of all his children, legal or good, he gets along the best with barbrey, brandon’s wife. rickard sent all of his children to a upper crust southron boarding school over the school years and then the “summer” (i don’t know how westerosi school years would work yet okay but imagine an equivalent of an american summer vacation) he sends brandon to stay with some friends in barrowtown, where he ended up falling in love with barbrey ryswell. he dies around the same time that bran is born of cancer. 

lyarra stark, nee flint, is dedicated. she’s the one who kept up her husband’s squeaky clean public face, and she was always doing double time for brandon. when lyanna ran off with rhaegar and then came back with a baby to live with ned and cat for a few years, she was doing triple time. lyarra has a sharp wit and is very ambitious. she thinks that all of her children but brandon made a mistake when they chose not to go into the family business and she doesn’t let any of them forget it. she loves her grandchildren, even though she dislikes the circumstances of jon’s birth and thinks that ned might not have gone into police work if he didn’t marry a woman who went into law. 

brandon and barbrey stark are the “someone will die.” “of fun!” couple. brandon is big, boisterous, and friendly and barbrey is hilarious, if you have a cruel and biting sense of humor. barbrey is devoted and loving, if you’re her family, and she’s disapproving of anyone who hasn’t earned her love. she and brandon don’t have children because brandon travels so much for work and barbrey doesn’t want them, but they love on ned and lyanna’s enough you’d think they were their own. brandon takes over the company when rickard dies and babrey is a higher up in her own father’s. she and roose bolton are frequent business partners. 

in less fun news, barbrey’s sister, bethany, was married to roose bolton. barbrey and roose remain good friends until she attends the funeral of the man’s other son after he was killed resisting arrest for serial killing, torture, lots of not great ramsayish things because barbrey’s like “well roose is kinda a dick but it’s not like he wanted the kid to be like that. gotta go support the guy so he feels less bad” and gets a really bad vibe about the whole deal. she cuts off contact after that. 

when lyanna stark was young, her mother and father were always talking about different businessmen she could marry and how she could come north and take over her portion of the family business, and lyanna felt suffocated. instead of coming back up to winterfell after her high school graduation, she runs off with her married poetry teacher, rhaegar viserion. it’s about a two year crazy ride of a romance, and lyanna ends up with a baby and the realization that rhaegar is terrible for her. she moves back up north to winterfell with ned, who was in the midst of a falling out with his parents over his choice to forego college and go into police work and his choice to marry so young, catelyn, and their young son robb. lyanna lived with ned for about four years (seeing sansa’s birth) before she died of cancer. this results in a few year long custody battle with jon’s father to keep him in winterfell. the custody arrangement ends up with jon spending major holidays of the seven and summer vacations with rhaegar and his siblings but all the rest of the year with ned and cat. 

benjen made his way north to work for an expedition company north of the remains of the wall. he has not married and does not plan to. he dated a few women back in college, but it wasn’t really his thing. he tried dating a few men later on, but it wasn’t his thing either. benjen’s just kind of a lone wolf. he’ll spend holidays down in winterfell, and sometimes ned and cat spend the children up for a week or so at a time for a little break and because benjen loves his niblings

the tullys! depending on the way that i’m feeling on a given day they might be named tully and just be so distantly related to the tullys of riverrun that they can’t even prove a connection, “blackfish” as the children of a riverlands knight who admired brynden tully, or just “fish” because that’s a real last name and the idea of it makes me giggle. the family grew up in maidenpool.

hoster is a former physician well respected in the communtiy. he and his wife, a surgeon, made quite a nice living for themselves, and now hoster is in hospital administration, running the one at the university of maidenpool, one of the most respected institutions in the country. 

minisa whent met hoster at the beginning of med school and the two have been together ever since. becoming a surgeon was difficult for minisa because of all of the obstacles that were against her, but she never let any of it stop her. she was said to have the “steadiest hands in the riverlands” and her children remember her for competent as a professional as well as for being kind and compassionate as a mother. minisa died in a car accident when catelyn was fifteen, and hoster was never the same since. 

brynden was a college athlete, a pro athlete, and then a sports announcer. when catelyn was seventeen, he and his boyfriend were outed to the world and he became one of the most prominent gay celebrities, paving the way for more openly gay men in sports. he was always exceptionally close to his niblings, and once they had children, he doted on them just the same.

lysa was always a little bit unstable. she spent much of her life pining after petyr baelish, their neighbor across the street who was always in love with cat but never looked her way once. when she tried to talk to him about her affections, he laughed in her face the same way that cat had to him. when petyr moved away to king’s landing for college, he never came back and never spoke to her again, though catelyn apparently heard from him lots. 

she flitted from interest to interest, always trying to find something that she was better at than catelyn. she took up a job at an after school program for primarily underprivileged kids, and while she wasn’t good at working with groups, she found that she was very good at making individual members feel loved and confident in ways that she never had as a child. she decided to start up her own home day care with high rates that only let in a small amount of kids, so that they could have more personalized attention. 

she never had any luck with romantic relationships, but after deciding that she wanted a child of her own, she went through the insemination process and had robin. unlike canon robin, this robin almost never lacked peers to interact with between his mom’s daycare kids, his winterfell cousins and his maidenpool cousins, he never lacked for friends. and between his grandparents, his cousins, and his aunts and uncles, robin ever lacked for family or love. 

edmure and roslin met at college. while hoster had been trying to pressure edmure into medical school, he met roslin in his intro to psychology classes and fell in love with the subject as he fell in love with her. roslin is the daughter of, of course, walder frey, by one of his later wives. walder is like a donald trump figure in all the grossesness that entails. roslin became interested in discovering why people act the way that they do (and why that way is so often Bad) and how to try to help people like, not do that. discovering a man who was so earnest, true, and kind was a breath of fresh air. edmure only completed his bachelors and ended up going into public relations at a company in maidenpool but roslin went all the way to get her doctorate and start practicing psychiatry and helping people that way. they had three daughters, minisa who’s rickon’s age, bethany who’s three years younger, and celia who’s two years younger than that. 

[ancientbooshartifacts]

Broken Mirrors

Author: Evil_Kingdom

Year: 2010

Rating: PG-13

Pairing: Vince/Richmond

Another Night, Another Bar...

Richmond takes a sip from his drink, some fruity dark red coloured drink, hell if he can remember what the name is. He takes a long gulp, shuttering at the after taste of alcohol. He thinks to himself what a weak man he is, far from what others he works with are like. Even Moss is stronger then him, and to everyone that says a lot.

But I thought you liked Moss?....

I do.

But you know he doesnt like you right?....

I know. No one likes me.

Oh dont be so hard on yourself Richie...

Shut up inner thought. Im tired of you being the only one to talk to.

He shakes his head, believing that maybe going out for a bit of air will be the solution to his problem. He gulped down the rest of his drink, places it carefully on the table, looks a round the room to see people giving him odd and funny looks

See? Maybe if you only dressed like them... maybe the would actually like you...

Not you too inner evil thought. Shut up

Richmond gives his head a big shake, then flattens out his long dark hair back into place. He then takes the steps through the crowd of people dancing irratically to the DJ with the toys up in the booth. He thinks to himself that maybe it was a bad day to come to the bar, a day when there is just too many people around. Not that he really minds that there are people around, it just isnt his type of people, so it makes for more awkward moments.

He instantly feels the cold air wrap around him as he pushes open the door. He cracks a small smile, feeling the comfort of a familiar friend

Hello Wind, nice to feel you again

He leans against the cold wall, closing his eyes for a brief moment, trying to collect all his thoughts and feelings.

Maybe I should just go home... Its not like im going to find anyone tonight.

Maybe you will never find anyone....

I TOLD YOU TO SHUT UP.

He lets out an exasperated cry, slamming his fits beside him into the wall. Tears start to gather in his eyes as he opens them, looking up into the shine of the moon,

It will be ok Richie, it will all work out soon....

Thanks moon, I can always count on you.

Im the Mooonnn....

Looking out onto the darkness of the streets, he sees gaggles of people, all sorts of people, dancing and being happy, drunk and laughing.

Why cant I be like them? Why cant I have some friends?

Richmond sighs again, standing up a bit straighter, rubbing the scratches on his hands.

No need to be sad anymore. Im better then this, I can get through this.

Being depressed just makes you a stereotypical goth Richie...

Thats right inner thought. And I'm not one to be stereotypical.

Pushing off from the wall, brushing his hands softly over his dark red velvet jacket, he gives himself a smile. Tomorrow will be a better night, tomorrow he will find someone to talk to.

Tomorrow tomorrow...

Richmond stares at himself in the mirror, checking every pore on his skin.

Perfect whiteness. Though I could lay off the sun a bit more, then it would be more perfect.

You know its fashionable to have a tan now a days Richie...

I know. But thats not who I am, I am a confident attractive young man.

Just keep telling yourself that....

Shut up inner evil thought. You cannot ruin my mood today. I am going to go out a meet someone. Just you watch me.

Giving himself a big smile, flashing his clean and white teeth, he applies the final stages of his eye makeup, adding a touch of black glitter to the corners of his eyes making his blue eyes sparkle.

Moving to the closet double doors he looks into rows of reds, deep purples and blues, hints of green, and rows upon rows of black. But at the very end, far back in the walk in closet, you can see a hint of his past, 3 normal suits still hang from bar, still unable to give away the last of the past.

He holds onto them thinking one day, one day, he may actually have the want to try them on, try on what he used to be, what it was like to be the cool guy, the guy with talent, friends, and a job that doesn't include staring at flashing buttons in the basement.

As he grabs his favourite creepers, a pair of black spiderweb socks, and a deep purple button up jacket, he sits on his bed and begins to hum a Cure song, one that he cant seem to get out of his head...

Oh please don't ask me who i am

Or when and where my life began

Or why i ended up like this or how

Standing up he brushes himself off and walks out into his hallway, out the front door, and on to the streets. Walking at a slow pace he watches the moon that sits high up into the night sky, surrounded by little stars, faint to see in the brightness of the cities lights. Continuing down the street, turning left, then making a right, he finds himself smack dab in the middle of bar and nightclub alley.

Now which one shall I pray upon tonight... hmmm decisions, decisions.

You make it sound as if you will have people just throwing themselves at you when you enter the doorway, you do know you will probably drink yourself stupid and wander home, just like every weekend.

Shut up inner evil thought. I told you. Tonight is my night. Tonight I will come home victorious. Gotta be confident, show them that Im a great person.

Richmond smiles to himself, confidence beaming through him like a flaming dagger sword from his heart.

And then he sees him.

The perfect figure of a man.

Gleaming black hair, shiny with product, perfect shape and placement

But not a goth.

Richmond gives a questionable look, heart beating faster in his chest.

Well he is a he...right?

That doesn't change anything, Im quite happy with any sexual preference. Not to say i'm not picky, but love is love you know, it doesn't have a gender.

For the first time in his life, his heart beats fast, quickens his pace, and jogs up to the club, slipping through the door, staring at the slight in front of him

Lights gleam from the ceiling, flooding the crowd with different colours, music loudly playing, but not loud enough to destroy eardrums. Not a bad selection of music, thankfully, Richmond hoping that there wouldnt be an idiot DJ tonight. He searches the club trying to find the man with the perfect hair... Bingo. Right next to the bar, sitting alone.

Here's my chance. Don't fuck it up.

He takes a deep breath, straightens out his clothes, fixes his hair, and makes a casual walk towards the bar.

“One cherry vodka sour please.”

He leans on the bar, trying to be casual and confident, thinking to himself that it probably doesn't look the case, but as long as he doesn't look ridiculous, its all that matters.

Well there he is Richie... go for it..

I will I will. Don't pressure me. You know what happens when I get pressured.

You get all clammy and your voice goes all squeaky and then people stare and laugh at you....

Thanks for the reminder asshole.

Richmond turns and glances towards the man. He makes eye contact, seeing full well the man beside him is staring. His face goes pink, but he can't look away...

“Can I help you? Are you starin' at me for a reason?” The dark haired man tilts his head

“Uhh... ummm... no, I was just looking over, sorry to bother you. I don't mean to make any trouble..”

Youre pathetic Richie. What happened to your confidence?...

“I don't mean to be mean, you don't have to get all defensive.” The man gives a small laugh,

“My name is Vince, Vince Noir, you probably heard about me, I am the king of Camden Town”

The man, Vince, flashes one of the most gorgeous smiles he's ever seen, his confidence clears.

“Umm no, sorry, I haven't heard about you...”

But I would love to..

Richie go for it. Give him something else to smile about....

“My name is Richmond, and I would love to find out why everyone knows you”

Richmond tries to give himself a confidence boost, giving a small cheeky smile, turning back to pay the bartender and grab his drink.

“Would you like a drink? My treat?” Richmond glances over Vince, seeing that he chooses the glam rock style, not something he is used to, but man does he make it look hot. He slowly gives him a once over, looking at his tight shiny shirt, trailing down to his black tight pants...

His eyes linger on his bulge, his perfectly pressed bulge against his pants, perfect...

“Oi mate, eyes up here, k love?” Vince flashes a coy smile, giving a small chuckle

He snaps out of his daze, face going red

“Im sorry, I didnt mean to, I mean I wasnt..”

if your face could get any redder, you would be a tomato.

“I'll take you up on your drink offer, a flirtini please, extra sour” Vince motions for him to take a seat beside him, giving him a cheeky grin.

He returns with drinks, placing his preferred drink in front of him, sliding into the booth beside him.

Now what are you going to do Richie? You cant just get him wasted you know

I know that... Im working on it.

“You alright mate? You arent the drug type are you?” Vince tilts his head towards Richmond, catching his eye, “You look a bit spaced out. I hope im not boring you or nothin”

“Oh no, no... no problem. Im just not used to someone being nice to me, usually I get brushed off quick and that is that” Richmond tries to smile it off, like its nothing.

Vince grins, his hand slowly creeping up Richmond's leg, stopping to grab his thigh. “Good. A pretty boy like you wanted to know about me, so heres how it starts”

Popping the cherry from his drink into his mouth he leans over, hand trailing down Richmond's thigh. His mouth getting ever so close, Richmond feeling his alcoholic breath push against his face, heart racing a mile a minute.

This is it. He is actually into me

Richmond leans forward, opening his mouth, tongue flicking forward hitting the cherry stem, before closing the gap with his lips..

Tonight be all i dream

There isn't any yesterday

Tomorrow starts a day away

This here and now with you is how

Always should always be

This

Here and now

With you

[ezekielshields]

Settling In

Walking beside Lexi is the closest I get to feeling equal with someone these days. She’s got a graceful gate and I can tell the cobblestone streets an’t something she’s used. We didn’t come into the city much when I was here last and with the last few years out in more wild pastures, I think we both gotta get used to city life again.

“Just think.” I said looking up at her big brown eyes. “You gettin’ a nice stall, not one of those massive ones the Vrykul thought you needed, made you look like such a small poney.”

Lexi let out a long huff and I take that as her agreeing with me about how demeaning it might have been for her. She’s not a small horse, but next to all of the Vrykul she was basically a foal to them. I’ll give her this, she’s a stubborn girl and she’ll demand respect from ann asshole who thinks because she’s a mare she’s not going to fight you. This woman broke other men’s ribs when hey didn’t treat her right.

My coming was already expected and I can seen an elderly gent waiting for me at the stable. He’s dressed in Bishop robes and I could tell he was looking for me. I stop us both and give a deep bow of my head. “Excellency.” I said my voice carrying it’s drawl even if I try to change it.

“Father Shields if I’m not mistaken?” The Bishop said. I was quickly getting my saddles bags off of Lexi so the waiting stable boy could take her. “I trust your trip from the Broken Isle went well?”

Hefting the saddlebags I can’t rightly shrug with the massive thing on my shoulder. “It went well enough, Lexi don’t much enjoy trips on the sea but portals spook her right out.”

I haven’t had to clean up my accent in three years. Vrykul don’t much care for how you speak, and they only cared if I had the passion to teach and learn from them. Most of the time I was screaming at them as I tried to dodge their trigger hair tempers. 

Bishop Hall smiled though, so I don’t suppose he minds it much. “I more than understand, she looks like a beautiful beast. I hear she’s been with you since you fully joined the church?” He motioned for me to follow him. I looked once back at Lexi, knowing I’m going to be back before nightfall so I can give her a good brush down and an apple for all her hard trekking she’s had to do.

“That’s right.” I smiled and followed. We were walking through the cathedral square and I can see all the folks just milling around outside the Catherdral. Folks like this were either military, nobles, or people with wealth. They don’t pay me the slightest amount of attention. I’m not in my robes at the moment but I do have my collar and I always keep my rosary on my arm. “It’s good to be back, can’t say I didn’t miss it.”

“Three years learning and teaching the Vrykul is a valuable post to the Church, you deserve to have a break, take in some time here in town.” He looked back and I wonder if he’s sizing me up. I don’t look like a squeaky clean priest. I know right now my mouth is itching for a cigarette but I’m not going to smoke in front of a Bishop. “What are you hoping to do now?”

I kept my eyes looking at the great big church, what with it’s large towering points, elegant stonework. It’s a beauty. First time I ever saw the place I was barely a boy and my Ma and Pa were happy to let me go inside and marvel at the stain glass windows.

Sniffing I looked to the Bishop and smiled. “I’m hoping to do what I’ve been wantin’ to do. Reach out to the folk and help people. I’ve got education on counselin’ and I’m able to absolve people of their sins.”

I didn’t notice the folder under his arm but he pulled it out and I knew it had my information. “You started showing the signs of being light touched when you were a teenager after your father passed away.”

Murdered. But I don’t say nothing about that no more. The person responsible isn’t my vengeful chore on this world. Even if I want it to be, I had to put that anger and hurt behind me. “That’s about right your Excellency.”

“Bishop Hall please son.” He looked back but I can tell a smile is cracking through. “It says in Bishop Hopper’s report that you were able to go toe to toe with the Vrykul?”

“The group I was with liked to use physical prowess as a way to prove if you can have a right to speak. Only the strongest and fastest got to do anythin’. I had t’do what I had to.” I looked back and smiled. “I don’t think I caused that much trouble.”

We were making out way to a building and up some flights of steps, I tried taking them two at a time, but the Bishop made me go slower, keeping to his pace. “You didn’t, I’m just trying to figure out what sort of priest you’ll be when you are here in the city.”

“I’ve always been good to the Light. it’s never left me and I’m pretty firm that I’m devoted to it. I will be going out to the people, to the people who honestly need help.” I tacked on. “I know the Church is going to ask me to do confessions, I’m happy to pitch in for that cleaning and what have you. But my nights, they gotta be mine.”

I think I said something that alarmed the old man as he looked at me his expression wary. Maybe he’s dealt with others who don’t take their vows as seriously. My vows were simple, to live an honest good life, one that will make the Light proud of me.

“All of us have our off time off to do as we need.” He said though I think he’s still got that worry lingering in his eye. I’ll show him I mean no harm. It’ll take time like all things do.

We finally got to the proper floor and he walked me down until we came to a door. As he unlocked it I saw a small studio flat that had all the basics for my simple life. I might get myself a bookshelf if I’m going to be lingering around for long, but, other than that, it was good.

“When should I be expected for my first round of chores?” I asked as I carefully put down my saddlebags. Unpacking won’t take me long, but I am screaming for a hot shower.

“You’ll be expected at dawn tomorrow for the Archbishop to give you a more defined account of what you’ll be expected to do around here.” He smiled lightly as he looked at my saddlebags then to the room. “If you do need anything I’m normally at the Church.”

I was about to take my duster when I gave a low bow. “Thank you, I’ll come lookin’ for you if I got any questions.”

“Light be with you my son.” He gave a small bow of his head and soon, I was alone again. It’s not quite, not as quiet as the wilds of Stormheim that’s for sure. It’s no Westfall either. Going up to the window I peaked out to the alley view. It’s not a nice location, but I need the stone walls to remind me I’m not out in the wilds no more. That I need to help this city like I had helped the rest of the folk I’ve come across.

The first thing I do, the very first thing I do before falling into a heap on the bed is pull out my robe. It’s black and mat, it’s seen a lot of hard days but I think after getting an iron I can get it to working shape. it’s the first and only thing I’m hanging in my closet tonight. The rest of my stuff can wait until I’ve taken a shower found some food, and most importantly, get Lexi that apple I know she’s wanting.

I might be back in Stormwind, but I think something is finally going to go right.

[finn-nelson-for-the-win]

The Good Life: Chapter 11

Hello, my lovelies! This chapter is very long and incredibly late, but it’s finally here!

Need to get caught up? The Good Life: Ch1, Ch2, Ch3, Ch4 , Ch5, Ch6, Ch7, Ch8 , Ch9 , Ch10

If you want to be added (or  removed) from the tags list for this story, just feel free to let me know!

@pink-royaute @believethaticanandiwill @milllott @likeashootingstarfades @i-dream-of-emus @eveerez @saintsisterwriter

The Good Life: Chapter 11

Rae was laying on the couch, watching Rocky fondly as he played with his favorite squeaky toy before momentarily getting side-tracked with chasing his own tail, and idly scrolling through social media when she heard the front door open.

“Hello,” Finn called out as he walked through the door and relocked it behind himself.

“Hiya Finn,” Rae called back as she waited for him to walk into view, “How was work today?”

“Long and boring, but what’s new? How was your day?”

“Also long and boring,” Rae chuckled, “I feel like everyone at work today was either sick, on vacation, or just away from their desk and I had to pick of the slack to make sure the department overall finished what we needed to before the weekend.”

“I’m sorry. Has Rocky been pretty relaxed like this or has he been a complete menace?”

“He was really high-energy and kept jumping around when I was walking him earlier, but he’s calmed down a lot now.”

Finn lifted Rae’s legs up off the couch so he could sit down only to place them on top of his lap again.

“Have you talked to Anna about when she wants him back?”

Finn leaned forward to pick Rocky up off the ground and bring him into his arms to properly greet the puppy.

Even though they had only been taking care of Rocky for little over a week now, they had already established a reasonable daily routine and had gotten used to the sound of his quiet whines when he wanted attention and the constant, dull pitter-patter of his nails on their wood flooring.

“I texted her this morning and she said that her flight lands really late Saturday night, so I could bring Rocky over any time on Sunday.”

“Cool,” Finn mumbled before lifting Rocky up to rest him on his upper chest, “I’ve gotta admit, I think that I’m gonna miss the little bugger when he’s gone.”

“Yeah, I think I will too, but Anna dubbed me Rocky’s official aunt, so I think we could at least ask to hang out with him and take him off her hands from time to time.”

“That would be nice,” Finn mused as he sat quietly on the couch for a few moments until Rocky began to squirm and try to climb off of Finn.

Finn lifted Rocky and placed him on the floor and the puppy immediately walked over to the black and gray dog bed they had bought for him.

“You must have really tired the little guy out on that walk,” Finn mused when he saw Rocky curl into a comfortable position on the dog bed and fall asleep almost immediately.

The two sat in comfortable silence as they watched the puppy fall deeper and deeper asleep until his gentle snores could be heard even from across the room.

“We should do something tonight,” Finn said suddenly.

“Uh, like what?”

“I dunno, what do people our age normally do on a Friday night?”

“Party, go drinking, hook up with strangers only to regret it the next day,” Rae suggested, earning a laugh from Finn.

“Let’s do that then,” Finn said before continuing, “Drinking or partying, I mean. My coworkers are always talking about different bars they’ve gone to, so maybe we could try going to one of them.”

“I’m not sure that the ‘Friday night bar scene’ is really for me. I’m not even a fan of going to the pub on the weekends with the gang if I have a choice because it gets so busy there!”

“Well we don’t have to go to one of the crazy bars or night club-like bars.”

“What did you have in mind then?”

“There’s a place that my coworkers are always raving on about where it’s part-bar-part-coffee-shop and then you can play unlimited board games and card games while you hang out.”

“Huh,” Rae mused as she considered the idea, “that might not be all that bad.”

“Perfect, we can check that place out and if we’re miserable we can go somewhere else. Sound good?”

“Yeah, that works for me!”

“Cool, are you gonna change your clothes?”

“Should I change my clothes? Are you changing your clothes or do I just look that bad?”

“No! You look fine, you look great,” Finn backtracked, “I just wanted to know when you wanted to leave or how much time you needed to get ready.”

“Oh, I guess I could change. I wore these clothes to work, but they’re all covered in puppy hair now,”

“Alright. I’m gonna change too, but whenever we’re ready we can go.”

Finn and Rae both walked down the hall in the direction of their respective bedrooms before Finn hesitated and turned around.

“What are you gonna wear?”

“I dunno. Are we trying to dress nicely or just comfortably? What were you thinking?”

“Maybe we could dress up and look a little nice today. Nothing too fancy, just a bit nicer than I’d usually dress going to the pub.”

“Like what you’d wear if you were going on a date to a bar, casual but nice.”

“Oh, uh, yeah. I suppose,” Finn stuttered out.

Finn turned around and walked into his room, quickly closing the door behind him to avoid letting Rae see how red his cheeks had gotten at the suggestion that they were going on a date.

When Rae had changed clothes and spent just a few minutes fixing her hair and putting on a little bit of makeup, she left her room, closing the door behind her.

“Are you just about ready to g—oh my god,” Finn began before trailing off into silence.

“What? Is there something wrong with what I’m wearing?” Rae asked as she looked down at her outfit.

Her navy-blue dress fit her well in the chest but was just the right amount flowy and loose around the hips so that the fabric swayed lightly with each step she took. The dress was simple, decorated only by subtle metallic embroidery throughout all the fabric and a diamond shaped cut out just below the bust to show off a small bit of skin. The dress was a bit short, only hitting mid-thigh on her tall frame, but she had paired it with a cozy, dark-gray cardigan that was only slightly shorter than the dress itself. Though Rae had yet to put them on yet, she was carrying in her hand her gray suede ankle boots with a chunky heel that she had been waiting for the right opportunity to wear them.

“No, there’s nothing wrong with your outfit,” Finn choked out after he realized he had been staring at Rae in awe for entirely too long, “You look incredible!”

“You clean up pretty well yourself, Finnley,” Rae replied with a smirk as she reached for the collar of his buttoned shirt and gave it a playful tug, “And would you look at that, our clothes even match!”

Finn looked down at his own clothes and noticed that the dark blue shade of Rae’s dress was almost identical to the color of his own shirt. He was wearing his favorite pair of dark wash jeans that he has been told makes his butt look particularly good, but the outfit was completed with his matching distressed gray leather boots and leather jacket in a similar color.

Finn chuckled nervously as Rae sat down on the couch to put on her shoes and as she zipped up the zipper on the back of each of her boots, she looked up at Finn with a cheeky smile.

“Now it definitely looks like you and I are going on a date!” She said, adding a wink when Finn sputtered audibly.

“Did you want to drive or take a taxi to the bar?” Rae asked when Finn had yet to say anything intelligible for a few moments.

“Oh, well I could drive, if you’d prefer. I was planning on us just taking a taxi so we can drink and not worry about having to drive home afterwards. But I can definitely be your designated driver for the night if you’d rather that.”

“No, we can take a taxi! I just was wondering. Are you ready to head out now?”

Rae walked into her room to make sure she had her phone and her purse while Finn ensured that Rocky’s water and food bowls were full in case he woke up from his nap and was hungry while they were gone.

Rae met Finn at the front door and the two left their apartment and headed towards the street side where the taxi would pick them up.

They only had to wait a few minutes for their ride to pull up to the curb in front of them and before long Finn and Rae were sitting side-by-side in the back of the car on the way to the bar Finn had suggested they try.

When they pulled up to the bar, they could see that there were a lot of people and most of the tables were full, but even on first glance it was clear to see that this was no ordinary bar.

Once they walked inside the building, Rae could see that in the center of the room was a massive circular bar area with shelves of just about every type of alcohol imaginable. The music playing was fun and energetic, but it was a far cry from the thumping bass and loud remixed pop songs that are played at most bars she had been to thus far.

“Hello there! Is it going to just be the two of you tonight?” ask the red headed hostess who had tattoos covering both arms almost entirely.

“Yes, just two. Thank you,” Finn replied with a polite smile.

“Perfect! Leslie will show you two to a table,” the hostess replied before turning to the petite blond waitress nearby, “can you please show this couple here to table number 65? Thank you!”

Rae looked at Finn when the hostess referred to them as a couple and mouthed the word “couple” before raising her eyebrows suggestively, causing Finn to turn away to hide the blush creeping into his cheeks.

“How are you two this evening? As she mentioned, my name is Leslie and I’ll be your waitress for the night. Have you two been here before?”

“No, we have not,” Rae said as she took a seat on one side of the booth that they were led to and Finn sat down opposite from her.

“Oh! First-timers, huh? Well you’re gonna have a great time, I promise! Pretty much how it works is that you pay a set price and you can play all the games you want to for however long you want to. You’re also more than welcome to order any food, drink, coffee...pretty much, you name it and we’ve got it. I’ll give you two a moment to get settled and I’ll be right back to see if you wanted to order any food or drinks, alright?”

Rae and Finn took a couple minutes to look through the menus that had been placed in front of them.

“Are you going to start off with a drink or did you want to get some food?”

“I’m not really hungry, so I’ll probably just start with drinks for now and maybe get something to eat in a bit.”

Finn and Rae both continued to look over the menus until Leslie returned to their table carrying a handheld tablet to input their orders.

“Alright, are you two ready to place an order for some food or drinks?”

“I think we can go ahead and order some drinks,”

“Perfect, what can I get you, love?”

“Uh, let’s see,” Rae mumbled, “can I get a Moscow mule, please?”

“Good choice! And for you, handsome?”

“Uh, I’ll start off with an old fashioned, please”

“Sounds good! I’ll go ahead and bring both of those right out!”

Rae and Finn stood up from the table and began to peruse the massive shelves stacked nearly from floor to ceiling with every board game imaginable, most of which neither had ever heard of before, that covered two walls of the building.

Finn and Rae continued to drink, play games, and have fun until they were both sufficiently drunk and noticed that the bar was less than an hour from closing for the night.

“Are ya ready to get ride home?”

“Yeah, I’m pretty tired and it’s getting late, I think,” Rae said as she and Finn began putting the most recent game they had played into the box to return it to the shelf it came from.

While Rae went to put away the board game, Finn paid their tab and waited for Rae to join him near the exit of the bar.

“How much do I owe you for my portion of the check?” Rae asked as they waited on the sidewalk outside the bar for the taxi they had ordered to arrive.

“Don’t worry about it. It was my idea to go out to the bar tonight, so it’s the least I can do!”

“Oh wow! That’s so gentlemanly of you,” Rae replied with a dramatic flutter of her eyelashes, “you’re the kind of date that every girl dreams of!”

“I try,” Finn replied with a sleepy smile as he pulled Rae into a one-armed embrace.

Before long the taxi arrived to pick them up and took them back to their apartment.

Unlocking the door and trying to enter the apartment while being as quiet as possible was no use when they opened the door and saw Rocky sitting just inside the doorway wagging his tail in barely contained excitement at their return.

“Hello baby boy! Did you miss us?” Rae asked as she walked into the apartment and brought Rocky into her arms while Finn shut the door behind them and locked the door.

Rae carried Rocky into her bedroom and set him down beside her on her bed while she removed her shoes and changed out of her dress and into a comfortable pair of leggings and an oversized band tee.

“It was fun getting dressed up and all, but I’m not sure that it’s worth all of the effort,” Rae huffed as she walked into the kitchen where Finn was currently grabbing a bottle of water from the refrigerator with Rocky following right at her heels.

“You looked really nice tonight,” Finn began before pausing to consider his words, “but I don’t think you need all of that. The hair, makeup, fancy clothes...that sort of stuff. They’re nice, but they’re not very ‘you’.”

“I’m not so sure that something being ‘me’ is actually a good thing,” Rae joked.

“I’m serious, Rae. You’re great. I like ‘you’,” Finn added with a smile.

“You’ve had too much to drink,” Rae said as she shook her head and took Finn’s bottle of water out of his hand to take a drink.

“Pehaps, but I still mean what I said,” Finn stated.

“Did it really bother you that much whenever I referred to tonight being a date or us being a couple? I didn’t mean anything by it, but you really didn’t seem to like it very much,” Rae mused aloud after she handed his water bottle back to him.

“On the contrary, I probably liked it too much,” Finn chuckled lightly as he rubbed the nape of his neck with his free hand.

Rae and Finn stood quietly in the kitchen for a moment before Finn glanced at the clock over his shoulder.

“Are ya still tired, Rae?”

“Not really. Are you?”

“No, not anymore. Do you wanna have a few more drinks with me?”

Rae shrugged and walked towards the cupboard where they kept their bottles of liquor.

“Pick your poison, Finnley,” Rae replied with a cheeky smirk.

A few rum and cokes later, Rae was sitting on the couch next to Finn with her legs sprawled across his lap while Finn was nursing his third beer after having decided to lay off the hard liquor for the rest of the night.

“Alright, your turn, Finnley. Truth or dare?”

“Uh, truth,”

“Alright...why did you really want to move in with me?”

“What do ya mean?”

“No one seems to believe the whole ‘I’ve been wanting to move out but hadn’t found the right opportunity’ explanation you’ve been giving,” Rae said in her best imitation of Finn’s voice, “least of all Archie and Chloe, but I’m sure they’ve been harassing you about it as much as they have been bothering me about it, huh?”

“Yeah, Archie has been keeping a really close eye on me for the last couple months since I initially volunteered to be your roommate, so he’s definitely not buying my story. It’s true, though. My story that is,” Finn replied.

“‘But…’ I sense there a lot more to the story than just that. So, spill.”

“Fine. I guess I just,” Finn began before rubbing his hands over his face as he gathered his thoughts, “I didn’t like the idea of you living with anyone else.”

“What do ya mean?”

“I just heard you talking about all the people you had considered living with and how you were starting to get desperate to find somewhere to live or roommates. I didn’t like the idea of you living with people you didn’t know but it just dawned on me that if I moved out of my da’s house sooner, I could be your roommate since no one else you knew of was looking for a roommate.”

“So you just didn’t want me living with a complete stranger?”

“Pretty much. Especially not when I had the means and desire to move out and get an apartment.”

“Wow, that’s really nice of you,” Rae said with a smile, “and here I was thinking that you just liked hanging out with me so much that you wanted to live together to take it a step further!”

“That was just an amazing perk of living with you,” Finn replied with a smirk, “Enough about me. Truth or dare, what will it be this time, Rae?”

“Uh, I’ll go with truth this time.”

“Alright, what have Chloe and Archie been saying to you about us living together?”

“Oh, nothing particularly surprising, really. Chloe is just overprotective and worried that living with you will make me realize that you’re a total slob and make me hate you as a person. I’ve had too many shitty roommates in the past, so Chloe just wants to make sure I don’t hate where I’m living and who I’m living with yet again.”

“And Archie?”

“I think he’s just confused because you never mentioned anything about it to him beforehand. I think he might feel like you were keeping secrets from him and he’s your best mate, so he might be a bit hurt.”

“Oh, I didn’t think of it like that, but maybe you’re right.”

“Yeah,” Rae replied as she leaned forward to grab her drink off the coffee table in front of the couch and finished the remainder of it in one gulp, “I think the gang in general is convinced that we’re secretly shagging though.”

“What?” Finn sputtered at Rae’s blunt statement, causing her to giggle.

“It’s true! Every time I see Izzy, she’s disappointed to find out that we’re neither dating nor secretly hooking up. I think Izzy has been spending a bit too much time online or watching shitty romantic comedies,” Rae chuckled.

“Why would they think that though?”

“I dunno why exactly, but to be fair, I know why Izzy might think there’s something going on between us.”

“Why is that?”

“Ugh, this is so embarrassing,” Rae began with a groan, “but when I was about sixteen and I first met you and all the gang, I had a bit of a crush on you.”

Finn raised his eyebrows in surprise and Rae lifted her hand up in front of him to stop him from speaking just yet.

“Now before you say anything, just know that I was young and naive and you were too fit for your own good and had half-decent taste in music, so teenage Rae fancied you a bit, obviously. But as long as I’m being honest, I technically had a crush on Archie before I developed a crush on you.”

“I see,” Finn replied as he tried to suppress the smile pulling at his lips, “but just between you and me, you fancied me a lot more than Archie, right?”

“And this is why I didn’t wanna tell ya,” Rae scoffed and rolled her eyes at Finn.

“Sorry, Rae. I’ll drop it, I swear. Just one question though: do you still think I’m fit?” Finn replied with a suggestive eyebrow raise.

“You’re such a dickhead,” Rae muttered as she turned her head away from him as he continued to smile at her and try to get a reaction out of her.

“Oh, you know that you love me,” Finn pleaded when Rae removed her legs from his lap and scooted over to the far side of the couch away from him.

“I think you mean ‘loathe’.”

“Please Rae, don’t be like this. I was only joking,” Finn begged as he moved over on the couch to close the distance between them again.

“Go away. I just decided that I hate your face and no longer want you to be Rocky’s unofficial uncle. Effective immediately,” Rae pouted as she lightly shoved Finn’s chest to get him away from her.

“Anything but the dog! I can’t stand the thought of him growing up without a proper family. We can make this work, I promise,” Finn replied in mock desperation as he reached out to grab Rae’s hands after they left his chest.

“Fine, but I’m still mad at you.”

“Please don’t be mad at me, Rae!” Finn begged as he scooped Rae up off of the couch and set her on his lap in one quick movement, “I love you!”

Rae rolled her eyes at Finn’s overly dramatic gestures and chuckled, signifying that she had in fact already forgiven him.

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever you say, Finnley. I think it’s time for both of us to get some sleep.” Rae added as she reached a hand up to run her fingers through Finn’s hair absentmindedly.

“Yeah, maybe you’re right,” Finn replied with a sleepy smile as Rae climbed off of his lap and sat down on the couch beside him, “good night, Rae!”

Finn leaned forward just as Rae began to stand up from the couch, grabbing one of her hands to bring her closer to him and placing a tender kiss on her lips.

A/N: Ok, so this chapter was actually REALLY hard for me to write, haha. I had the entire chapter mapped out and mostly written over a week ago, but then I decided that I didn’t like the direction that I was taking the chapter in and y’all didn’t deserve the kind of drama and sad feels that I was going to dish up in the chapter, so I had to re-write like 3/4 of the entire chapter to keeps things a bit lighter. I’m still not totally happy with the chapter, but I was too determined to get something (anything) posted soon rather than spending an eternity nit-picking my writing like I know that I am capable of doing.

A lot of stuff has been changing in my personal life as of lately—some good, some not so good—but I’m just trying to hold myself together and go with the flow as much as I possibly can. With that being said, I don’t know if I’m going to be able to keep any semblance of a normal posting schedule or not until somethings in my life settle down a bit, but I just ask that you please bear with me while I try to get my shit together.

I know when I teased that there would be some crazy stuff happening in the next few chapters it might have scared/alarmed a few of you, but I can assure you that I’m not going to make this story take a complete 180 and introduce anything too crazy that I don’t think you all can handle, so fear not my darlings!

The next few chapters are going to have some fun stuff, some minor drama, and some other stuff that is going to help set up the story for what I want to come up next, but I hope that you all enjoy this chapter and those to come.

Until next time: Stay awesome, my friends! :)

[stephanine-sims]

Couple Interview Tag 

Rules: answer the questions from your OC otp’s point of view and tag as many people as you want. You can do as many couples as you want it could be an otp you intend to get together but hasn’t got together yet or whatever haha… I’m just nosy and wanna know about your oc’s so tag me if you want!. You can be as creative as you want make a story out of it whatever do it however you want just answer the questions simply its up to you!

I was tagged by @shysimblr! Thank you sm bby 💖 This was so much fun! I tag @mysteriousdane​, @surreysimmer​, @dustysunflowers​, @sim-bubble​, @purplesimmer455​, @iffysimmer​, @applezingsims​, @smallcowplant​, @racingllama​ and anyone else who wants to do this 💖😘 

I’ll put this under a read more bc it got so loooong lmao

1.  How did you two meet?

Rowan: “Well, Neil moved in next doors when I was... 6 maybe? I don’t remember exactly. Something like that?”  Neil: “Sounds about right. Wow, that means I’ve known you for over 20 years now. That’s insane.” 

2. Who is the most Jealous of you two?

Neil: “Hm... I don’t know actually? I’m not a very jealous person but you’re also not.”  Rowan: *shakes head* “No, not really.”  Neil: “So I guess that would be me? Sometimes when a random dude on the streets of San Myshuno whistles at you, I wish I could show them my fists up close..” Rowan: *laughs* “Pfft, like you’d ever.” Neil: “Nah, not really. But sometimes I wish I could.”

3. What’re your 3 favourite Physical things about your partner?

Neil: “I love the few freckles you have. Like the one above your eyebrows and the one just below your lips. And I like your smile a lot. When you’re happy, you just.. radiate it. I like that a lot.”  Rowan: “Naww.. Stop it. You’re too sweet.”  Neil: “Oh and for the last one, I love your ass too.” Rowan: “Oh my god..” Neil: *grins* “Well... Your turn.” *laughs* Rowan: “Oh, right..” *smiles* “I, um.., I really like your smile too. And you have really nice hair. It’s really, really soft and I’m super jealous. And... your abs.”  Neil: *grins*

4. Who’s more likely to be running late?

Rowan: “Neil.”  Neil: *laughs* “Me, definitely. But I try my best, okay.” 

5. Who is the most organised and who is the messiest?

Neil: *laughs* “I’m definitely the messy one.”  Rowan: *groans* “You should’ve seen that one time he used the dorm kitchen to cook dinner for us. It was a MESS.” Neil: “But the food was good, you gotta admit!”  Rowan: *nods* “The food was good. I never questioned your cooking skills... just your cleaning skills.” 

6. Who is the bigger flirt? (flirts the most?)

Rowan: “Is that even a question, honestly?”  Neil: “It’s you, of course, my sweet honey bun..”  Rowan: *smiles awkwardly at camera* “Yes.... Definitely me.” 

7. Who does the most cooking?

Neil: “I’d say we divide the work evenly? If I’m working late, Ro cooks for me, and reverse.”  Rowan: *nods*

8. How do you feel about kids and do you want them? If so how many?

Rowan: “They’re the cutest. I do want kids at some point of my life.” Neil: *nods* “I want kids too. Maybe one or two? I don’t know, honestly..” Rowan: “The more the better.” Neil: *scoffs* “Ah, I don’t know about that.”  

9. Who wears the pants in the relationship?

Neil: “Rowan, I’d say.”  Rowan: “Definitely not me.” *laughs*

10. What’s your partner’s least favourite housework task?

Neil: “Hm... That’s a hard one. My best guess would be doing the dishes?”  Rowan: “Nope. I hate ironing clothes the most.”  Neil: “Then why do it..” Rowan: “Because wrinkles are even worse! Either way, Neil hates vacuuming.” Neil: “Vacuuming SUCKS. Hehe, get it?”  Rowan: “... Someone save me.”

11. What was the first thing you noticed about each other?

Neil: “Oh, I hardly remember. Her blue-green mixed eyes, I guess?” Rowan: “His hair.” 

12. What does your partner do that pisses you off?

Rowan: “Neil tends to whistle when he’d doing mindless jobs like cleaning or cooking. And he’s very bad at whistling.. It hurts my ears.”  Neil: “Ro is very particular about having the house squeaky clean. Sometimes I leave clothes lying around the bedroom that I plan to wear later but then when I look for them later, they’re gone! And I find them back in the laundry basket, because Ro cleaned them up. It’s nice to have clean house but I keep losing my stuff..”

13. Where’s the craziest/weirdest place you’ve ever had sex?

Rowan: “Oh boy..”  Neil: “I don’t think Ro would like to have this information out in the OPEN.. If you know what I mean..” *grins* Rowan: “Oh my god, Neil!” 

14. Do you know your partner’s love language, if yes what is it?

Rowan: “Neil is more about gestures than he is about words. He’d do small things for me to make my life a bit easier and I appreciate it lots.. Whenever he uses words, he expresses his love in the form of embarrassing me in public by calling me odd but sweet names.”  Neil: “Rowan is really good with words and can always exactly convey how she’s feeling without making it too loveydovey and awkward. It’s really nice, actually.” 

15. Where do you see the 2 of you in 10 years?

Neil: “That’s a hard question. I don’t even think about what to have for dinner tomorrow. I don’t know.. Maybe a nice house somewhere in Brindleton Bay. That would be nice.”  Rowan: “I’d like to have my own vet clinic. And be married and have fifty kids.”  Neil: “Oh, heck no.”  Rowan: “Oh, heck yes.”

[padmecat]

Boys Over Flowers, episode 9

Ain’t no party like a Boys Over Flowers party

Far away in Commoner Land, Jun Pyo is getting to know Jan Di's family.

HUMAN CENTIPEDE. Just kidding. They're actually at a public bath. Gotta scrub each other's backs squeaky clean!

Although Pops seems to be enjoying it a little too much... Overall, Jun Pyo has had an absolute blast chilling with Jan Di and her family. He's super excited at realizing how fun doing "normal" things can be, like the simple joy of preparing a meal with one's family. Back at school, Ji Hoo meets Jan Di outside the pool.

Why hello there, Ji Hoo. You're looking forlorn, as always.

They wander outside, and he shows some concern when she starts coughing. No wonder; she's standing out in the cold with wet hair. He does a nice thing and gives her his hat.

Aw, he gave me his hat. He encourages Jan Di to give Jun Pyo a chance, despite the fact that he spent part of the day staring sadly into the empty swimming pool while he reminisced about the happy times he and Jan Di shared. He's definitely trying to stick to his resolve, here. Jan Di takes his advice, and asks Jun Pyo to join her and Ga Eul on a double date.

Interestingly, when Yi Jung hears that Ga Eul will be attending, he suggests that he might tag along. Because he's interested in how commoners date. For research purposes. For a school project.

Yeah, okay. WHATEVER YOU SAY. Ga Eul already has a date coming. He turns out to be a total loser, though.

Look at this loser. He starts making fun of Jun Pyo's hair within a minute of meeting him. Not a good way to get on his good side.

*STARE*

On any other day, Jan Di and this fella would get along great.

The double-date is already off to a rocky start. Later, the loser turns out to be a two-timer, so Jun Pyo takes it upon himself to beat him up. For some reason, he keeps his reasons for doing so from Jan Di, so she ends up angry with him and their relationship ends. Again.

Somewhere, Ji Hoo feels his lightning scar start to tingle...

LATER

Jan Di and Ga Eul are out on the town when they spot the loser from their failed double date. He's chatting up some pretty girl, telling her all about the shabby high schooler he recently took out as a joke, and her strange male friend with bad hair.

Oh really?

Hey, those two girls look familiar...

Prepare to die.

OH SHI-

Winner: Geum Jan Di After this debacle, Ga Eul tells Jan Di that she must apologize to Jun Pyo. Jan Di grudgingly agrees and sets off. After watching her leave, Ga Eul looks sad.

Jan Di has Jun Pyo, who does Ga Eul have?

We cut to Yi Jung, who peeks in on a pottery class.

*peek*

Now I don’t know much about pottery, but I’m pretty sure this isn’t one of the steps.

Yi Jung seems hurt, though not surprised. He catches the woman as she's leaving and informs her that she's that man's fourth girlfriend in the last year, then he leaves abruptly. On his way wherever, he catches sight of Ga Eul.

Hey, isn't that...

She's quite upset.

What are you waiting for?! Make a move! Yi Jung finally gets out and approaches her. Trying to be all suave, he tells her that girls don't look as pretty when they cry.

Smooth. Now with everyone on the street looking at him like he's a total jerk, he takes her back to his place to make her tea or something. He shows her his collection of pottery; he's really into that stuff and is in fact quite well known his pottery skills. So she's surprised when he takes a hammer and smashes a piece from his collection, after praising its durability. I think he's trying to teach her a lesson about hardship and pain being unavoidable, no matter how strong you are.

After dressing her up, he takes her out.

That loser from earlier is at the same club, and he doesn't even recognize Ga Eul. Which is fine, because she's got her eye on someone else.

Elsewhere, Jun Pyo and Jan Di are back on. For today, anyway.

It's gonna work this time. I’m like, thirty percent sure.

You're giving me whiplash.

It takes eighteen seconds from the time Jun Pyo starts moving in for a kiss for him to actually get there. And they were only a few inches apart! I would have gotten bored and pulled out a book if a guy were taking that long. When he finally makes contact, we're subjected to another lifeless Barbie and Ken doll kiss. I wasn't sure either of them still had a pulse.

Considering this is only episode nine, I'm gonna say these two break up and make up at least a dozen more times before the series ends. To be continued...

[yourcoolfriendwithallthecandy]

Magic and Miracles and BEYOND Chapter 5

Ahh, finally a good and proper chapter, by my standards anyway. Ok. so the middle picture on the left side is a picture of the interior of the ‘girl’s bus’ and the picture above Greg Blackford aka Luche Lazarus, is the bed’s for the girls bus where as the two pictures to the left of Miracle Laurie, aka Hazel Stevens are pictures of the boy’s bus because the Caelums have a thing for black edgelord while Sylva and the girls prefer white and lighter colors so day and night. ok and then then the necklace on the right of Luche is the necklace Sylva is letting Ada, the gorgeous red head in the middle wear and above that is Luche’s gun, note, neither of them know that they match but Sylva does because Sylva is the best game of life/chess player with people’s lives ever and she’s a BAMF and I love and adore her and want to be just like her when I grow up and again in my head she’s played by the gorgeous and charming Heather Grahm. Also Hazel is AMAZING and a BAMF too. I love and adore her as well. She has a gray morality to her character that I admire because her and Titus both have a ‘family comes first’ mentality. (*cough cough* HEARTH AND HOME *cough cough*) So now we start to see a divide based on loyalties. So seeing how that’s gonna play out and who picks which side is gonna be interesting to say the least. I’ve laid SOME GIANT ASS puzzle peices on the board this chapter, so hopefully everyone can put it together before it’s be a race to see who burns the puzzle table first, Cor or Gilgamesh. And if you look closely you’ll see references to Kingsglaive and FFXV all over the place. (Cor the Immortal Marshal, Luche the traitor) And getting Luche and Ada back together will bring back A LOT of early RaeLena vibes and paralells. SO MUCH PINING. SO CLOSE AND YET SO FFFAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRR. (My Eyes Adored You by Frankie Valli reference)

@the-immortal-marshal enjoy, read carefully, I added a bunch of stuff. 

You can go here to AO3 or read below. 

Magic and Miracles and BEYOND

Chapter 5

The next day, Titus had the start of football tryouts and so Hazel went to the hospital, hoping Luche was in town again, since he didn’t seem like he was really with either Luna and her group or Noctis and his in the pictures both groups posted on Instagram or Facebook and knew that he seemed to be blooming into his role of Sylva’s right hand man and she knew Sylva was still in town for the moment so there was a good chance he was with her now.

“Hi, is Mr. Lazarus or Sylva in today?” Hazel asked Kathryn.

“Yes, both are in but Sylva is about to leave for vacation any minute.” Kathryn answered.

“I need to see Sylva then before she leaves.” Hazel insisted just as Sylva left her office.

“Hey!” Sylva greeted Hazel happily.

“Hey, I know you’re about to leave but could I walk you out?” Hazel asked.

“Yeah, sure, what’s up?” Sylva asked as Hazel left and walked with her to the elevator.

“Um, where are you going on vacation?” Hazel asked.

“Oh, Regis and I are going to tour wine country by train in California for a week then we’re going on a couple of cruises with the kids to Hawaii and then to Alaska why?” Sylva asked.

“Is there any possible way you can take Ada with you?” Hazel asked.

“I can offer but there’s no way Cor will agree to it.” Sylva answered as they stepped into the elevator.

“That’s just it, he needs to because he’s going to get her killed.” Hazel blurted before Sylva stopped the elevator.

“This is a secure elevator and you have my confidence, what’s going on?” Sylva asked as she put her bag down and turned her phone off to make sure this conversation stayed confidential as she turned to face Hazel completely and gave Hazel her undivided attention.  

“Ok, I’m breaking a cardinal rule by telling you this but you’re the only one who can help. So Cor got close, too close to Gilgamesh, Cor was talking about it over dinner last night in front of God and everyone like a god damn hot headed idiot and Gilgamesh has since taken notice of him and sent a warning, in the form of my sister Charlotte showing up at my door to give the message to Cor myself which I was able to pass off on someone else to try to stay clear of it from Cor’s perspective but Charlotte came to me while Titus was with me and even though I locked him in my bathroom with my 9/11, she referred to him by name which means that now Gilgamesh knows of Titus and he’s my new soft spot and he’s going to be held above my head to keep me in line and he’s in danger and I’m doing everything I can to protect him but Cor and his ego and his god damn mouth and his obsession with Gilgamesh are going to get us all killed. I’m safe because I’m Charlotte’s sister and I’ve been respectful in the past and I know the rules and usually never break them and I’m lawyer-ed up so I’m covered legally. Ada is young and innocent, she has no business in this and if she dies because she’s close to Cor, that’s on him. I can’t say anything to her directly because if I do, that’ll get her killed quicker because I’ve had a tail since college and I’ve just gotten used to the constant surveillance. But if push comes to shove, they will not hesitate to kill her just to send a message to him to back off and I know Gil and Charlie will make me choose between Titus or Ada and them and I can’t do that, I love Titus, I can’t loose him. I can’t go to the authorities because Gilgamesh has moles in everything and I’ll be dead before I can make a statement and it’s because of those moles that I’ve never had any charges and my legal cases have gotten dismissed and never put on my record and it’s why my record is as squeaky clean as it is. Is there any way we can get Luche and Ada back together any quicker? Because if she was back with Luche, she’d be ok because Luche would keep her away from this shit storm.” Hazel explained as Sylva just listened while her eyes got wide as her stomach dropped and knotted.

“If I have to take her kicking and screaming, I will.” Sylva swore.

“Thank God.” Hazel breathed in relief as she leaned on the railing.

“Is there anything that I can do to help you and Titus though?” Sylva asked.

“If push comes to shove, I’ll have to go WitchHazel to get Charlotte out of whatever bind she finds herself in. And I could use access to a helicopter.” Hazel answered.

“Witch hazel?” Sylva repeated.

“I’ve had a few former boyfriends who were Marines, Special Forces and Black Ops, they all died trying to free me of this before and I got to keep all their gear when they died and know how to use it because all of them trained me very well. WitchHazel is what Charlie likes to refer me turning into her one woman army when her regular army fails her. I hate doing it and it’s almost landed me jail time but the moles and my lawyer, who also works for Gil, have been very good at keeping me out of it...so far.” Hazel answered.  

“Absolutely. Whatever you need. You’re family and Titus is family too and a family takes care of itself and each other. I will have the best lawyers lined up- who aren’t entangled in this- if need be and I will make myself and all that I have available for your disposal if, like you said, push comes to shove, however that comes to transpire, I can fly a chopper too if you need me to. Charlotte saved Lunafreya’s life, I owe her myself.” Sylva offered and Hazel broke down crying again as the two women hugged each other tightly. Hazel feeling so much lighter now that she wasn’t carrying that burden alone.

“Thank you so much, please don’t say anything about this to anyone. Not even to Regis, please.” Hazel pleaded.

“Of course, every woman is entitled to their secrets and this will be ours and ours alone.” Sylva reassured her. “Thank you for trusting me with this. I will never betray this confidence, I swear on all my kids’ lives.” Sylva swore.

“I trust you.” Hazel laughed as she pulled herself back together. “I was about to go tell Luche to try to steal Ada back if you hadn’t been here.” Hazel admitted.

“Oh don’t bother, I’ll handle everything.” Sylva assured her as Hazel nodded in understanding. “Is there anything else or is that it?” Sylva asked.

“No that’s it.” Hazel shook her head no and quickly wiped her face as Sylva nodded and resumed the elevator and turned her phone back on and once back on, she found she had a missed call from Kathryn.

“Yes?” Sylva asked.

“Hey, if you’re still in the building, Cor Leonis is here.” Kathryn informed her.

“Great, what bay is he in?” Sylva sighed.

“He’s standing right in front of me at your office, he says it’s really urgent.” Kathryn answered.

“I’ll be right there.” Sylva said as she pressed the top floor again.

“I should get off here, I can’t chance being seen with him while he’s under the microscope like this.” Hazel insisted as she got off the elevator on a different floor to make a clean get away.

“Understood, if you ever need anything, text me or call me or do whatever you gotta do.” Sylva encouraged.

“Will do. Hey would you mind some company on that wine tour?” Hazel asked as she realized her opportunity to make sure Titus was clear of this too.

“Like you and Titus? Doesn’t he have football?” Sylva asked.

“He has an assistant coach.” Hazel shrugged nonchalantly.

“I will text you the particulars.” Sylva grinned mischievously. “And if you’re going to ask him sooner than later, like I suggest ASAP, might I suggest putting on nothing but a sports bra and booty shorts and do one lap around the track, making sure he watches you then go ask him.” Sylva advised before Hazel nodded solemnly to that before the elevator doors closed and Hazel quickly went to the shops down the street to quickly buy just that.

“Hey, funny seeing you up here, without being banged up first.” Sylva teased Cor when she got out of the elevator.

“Haha, very funny.” Cor groused. “Could we talk please? Privately?” Cor asked.

“Sure,” Sylva nodded as she went back into her office.

“Uh, you’re about to meet up with all your kids right?” Cor asked once the door was shut.

“Yeah. We’re supposed to be touring wine country in California by railroad and then meet up with the kids for the cruises to Hawaii then Alaska.” Sylva nodded.

“Could you please take Ada with you and make sure she meets up with Crowe and Libertus?” Cor asked and Sylva blinked in surprise, having thought she would have had to literally bend his arm for him to accept such an idea.

“Yeah, why?” Sylva felt compelled to ask as she eyed him wearily.

“Well I’m getting close to catching Gilgamesh and it’s going to get hot and I don’t want Ada around just in case it gets messy.” Cor explained.

“Uh, ok, yeah sure, how soon until she can get packed? Regis and I are leaving tomorrow morning.” Sylva said as she texted Hazel those particulars.

“When and where will you need her?” Cor asked.

“At my house, we should be leaving the house around 9, after breakfast.” Sylva answered.

“She’ll be there.” Cor promised.

“Does Ada even want to go? I feel I should be asking her that.” Sylva furthered.

“Yeah, she’ll love it.” Cor insisted.

“Alright.” Sylva nodded.

“Just um, could you try to keep Luche away from her?” Cor asked.

“I’ll do my best.” Sylva offered.

“Thanks, I owe you big.” Cor breathed in relief.

“You’re welcome, just don’t go getting yourself killed while we’re gone.” Sylva urged him.

“I’ll do my best. Thank you so much Sylva, I really appreciate it.” Cor nodded before he left, Luche jumping back into his office to avoid Cor seeing him before he poked his head out and narrowed his eyes at Cor’s retreating form.

Soon after Cor got on the elevator Luche felt safe to leave his office and walked down the hall to Sylva’s office to see her walking out of it with a determined look on her face.

“Everything ok Sly?” Luche asked.

“Yes, pack, up, we’re leaving, as soon as you can get ready to go, we need to do some last minute shopping.” Sylva insisted as Luche nodded in understanding as Sylva followed him into his office as he shut his computer down and started packing up for the night as she shut the door for privacy.    

“OK, so change of plans, Cor is up to his neck in something he has no business being in and we’re taking Ada with us tomorrow to get all of us out of the shit show that will most likely go down while we’re away. Hopefully Hazel and Titus will be joining us, you and Ada are going to join the band team, hopefully Titus and Hazel can join Regis and I for the wine tour, then all of us are going to go on the cruises, keep Ada safe. Make sure she stays with the group at all times. Whatever she wants or needs, buy it for her. Use my card, you can even buy her and Crowe things together so it’s not weird. Be friendly, be charming, be gentle and crazy super respectful and not intrusive and try not to actively win her over. Be subtle and she will be magnetically drawn to you. Take this journey over the next three weeks as her friend and confidant. That’s all she’ll want and all she’ll need from you. You have to reestablish the base, the foundation of your relationship and build up from there. But it has to be laid well first. Got it?” Sylva ordered.

“Got it.” Luche nodded.

“Now, you and me are going to do a little shopping, if she’s going to be touring with a rock band she should look the part. You know her sizes still right?” Sylva asked as Luche ducked his head as his cheeks chained cherry.

“Yes.” Luche admitted.

“Good, we’re going to use that. Come on.” Sylva ordered as she nodded towards the door as he finished up and grabbed all the files and put them on Kathryn’s desk.

“We’re both leaving now, see you again in a few weeks ladies.” Sylva bid Abby and Kathryn.

“Bye.” They waived off as Sylva and Luche immediately started shopping.

Meanwhile Hazel was in the backseat of her SUV the school parking lot getting dressed in Sylva’s prescribed outfit before she gave herself a pep talk and strut out towards the field. The other boys noticed her first before Titus followed their line of sight and his jaw dropped, his whistle dropping from his mouth as it hung open as he watched Hazel come closer before she did a little waive and started jogging around the field, causing a distraction for everyone, especially Titus as he watched her breasts bounce and her ass and thighs jiggle as she jogged and barely could handle both the teams exercises and watching her and doing his best not to get a hard on in his shorts and he had never had to think of his grandma in a nighty so much in life to achieve that. He couldn’t even bring himself get mad or irritated as his possessiveness surged so strongly, it nearly undid him.  

“Hi,” Hazel nearly giggled as she caught her breath as she finished her lap around the field, Titus literally turning in his spot so that she was still front and center in his field of vision.

“Hi.” Titus returned as she noticed the sweat bead all over her skin, especially on her heaving chest since the sportsbra was giving her magnificent cleavage.

“So I have a question for you.” Hazel began as she swayed a little in place. “Sylva invited us to tour wine country with her and Regis and I’d love to go, could maybe your assistant coach take over next week?” Hazel asked sweetly.

“Uh,” Titus stammered as his brain was short circuiting having her damn near naked next to him was sending every other thought but her and what he’d like to be doing with her right about now- out of his head.  

“Or if you don’t want to go, I could always come to work with you and keep jogging around the field since I don’t have classes for a while.” Hazel prompted and did her best not to grin too evilly when Titus’ eyes narrowed at the notion as she took his hand and wrapped it around her waist, even though she was sure she was dripping with sweat at the moment but she nearly had him. “Please Baby?” Hazel cooed and Titus was putty in her hands.

“When?” Titus asked as his mouth both watered yet felt incredibly dry at the same time, no other woman ever had this effect on him and he was still getting used to her taking his breath away on a regular basis.

“Tomorrow morning at 9.” Hazel beamed.

“Seems...kind of last minute...” Titus noted.

“I’m being encouraged to go.” Hazel whispered as she stood toe to toe with him and placed her hands on his chest as his arm tightened around her waist as she gave him a meaningful look.

“Oh, you could have just said...never-mind, yeah, we’ll go.” Titus immediately agreed.

“Great, I’ll see you at your place after tryouts.” Hazel winked before she kissed him with promise and pulled herself away and sauntered away, sashaying her hips entirely for Titus’ benefit, making Titus pull every anti-boner image into his brain to keep from reacting to her.

“John?” Titus began before John, the assistant coach came over to him as Titus pinched the bridge of his nose as he thought of how on earth he was going to pay for it all as well as try to pull reason back into his head instead of the onslaught of lust that currently filled it.

“Yeah?” John answered.

“You’re gonna, you’re gonna have to take over, for the next week or so. I gotta...I gotta take care of...something personal, for at least a week.” Titus told him as Titus fought to gather himself together and not run after Hazel to fuck her right then and there as John snorted a laugh.

“Yeah, you have fun with that, I gotcha covered.” John reassured him as he gave Titus a congratulatory pat on the back.

“Thanks.” Titus nodded before he refocused himself back to the training.

The moment Titus came home though, he knew she was already there because her SUV was in her spot in his driveway and came running into the house because he was going to fuck Hazel so hard she wouldn’t be able to walk afterwards, because the moment he dismissed his players and got back into his truck, his cock got so hard he could drill through concrete with it and it would not go down. He noticed her bags by the door, already to go before she came down the steps, his luggage in her hand as she had already been packing for him.

“Hi,” Hazel greeted happily before he grabbed his bag out of her hands, let it drop to the floor as he walked her over to the closest wall and immediately started stripping all her clothes off roughly while kissing her fiercely.

“Oh wow,” Hazel gasped as she responded in kind and started stripping him out of his clothes too before he picked her up and pinned her to the wall and impaled himself quickly and roughly into her, her own wetness and the river of precum dripping from his head making that feat easy and making her moan and cry out in ecstasy as he growled, moaned and hissed in pleasure before he started up an enthusiastic and vigorous pace, slamming into her so hard, her whole body was shaking and they were threatening to put a hole in the wall in the shape of Hazel’s upper body as her legs tried to wrap around his waist since she was already clinging to him with her arms around his neck and shoulders. “Oh my God.” Hazel whimpered as Titus bit and sucked on all of her hot spots as his hands dug into her luscious curves, his fingertips especially digging into her ass as he used his hold on her that way to keep her up while the rest of him pinned her to the wall. Her breasts smooshed up against his pecks and her amazing soft belly rubbing up against his as her whole body began to writhe from the pleasure he was giving her as her keens and whimpers grew more loud and desperate and her face flashed pain as he hurtled them both closer to release and once attained, they both simply clung to one another, their heads resting on the shoulders of the other as they caught their breath.

“The next time you pull a stunt like that again, I’m fucking you like this at the god damn school, I don’t even care who’s around.” Titus warned her as she giggled gleefully.

“Promise? Because you could of, I waited a whole five minutes in the car just in case.” Hazel wagged her eyebrows suggestively with a scheming grin and Titus was ready to fuck her through the God damn wall but right at that moment his body was screaming for a break.

“Come on Baby, go easy on me, the next time you want to do something spontaneous or whatever, all you have to do is ask, you don’t have to go through so much trouble.” Titus reminded her as he pressed his forehead to hers.

“Ok,” Hazel agreed before she kissed him meaningfully as he regripped her and went ahead and carried her upstairs for round 2.

Meanwhile, immediately after Cor had left Sylva’s office, he went to Theo and Stacy’s to tell Ada the news.

“Hey Love,” Ada greeted Cor when she saw him stride into the restaurant.

“Hey, you need to get out of here as soon as possible.” Cor insisted.

“What? Why? I have like three tables, and one of them just got sat, I can’t walk out.” Ada argued.

“Yes you can, you need to, you need to go home and pack.” Cor returned.

“Wait, what? Where are we going?” Ada asked, thinking Cor was perhaps about to tell her he was taking them on a surprise vacation or something romantic like that.

“You’re going to go spend the next three weeks with Crowe and all them.” Cor answered.

“Why? Weeks ago you said I couldn’t do that, that we couldn’t afford...” Ada started to argue.

“Sylva will be taking care of you.” Cor interrupted as Ada blinked in surprise.

“Again, weeks ago, you didn’t want her taking care of me at all, you insisted you needed to, what the fuck changed? Does this have something to do with what happened at the restaurant because you haven’t been yourself since then.” Ada demanded as Cor looked around to see if anyone was listening to them before he pulled them to a lonelier place in the restaurant.

“Ada, I’m this close to catching Gilgamesh but if the past is any indication it’s going to get ugly and I can’t have you around just in case it does, you’ll be better off being with your friends, you’ll be safer with them.” Cor revealed, his eyes and his facial expression pleading with her to take him seriously and to understand.

“Well then learn from the past! And keep it from getting ugly then! You said you were always going to keep me safe remember? I always thought and felt that the safest place will be right here with you.” Ada countered as her eyes began to water as her hand spread over his heart. “You said that before I came into your life how you were reckless and how do I know you won’t be reckless again without me here?” Ada asked as her tears started falling from her eyes.

“I swear on my life I will not be reckless but I have to do my job Love. If they try to make this personal, I could never forgive myself if anything happened to you. I can’t risk you Love, I just can’t. Thankfully we have friends who can help ok? You just need to trust me and do this. When it’s all over and Gilgamesh is behind bars and can’t hurt anyone ever again, it’ll be ok and I’ll never ask you to leave me ever again, I swear. Please Love, I know Sylva will take good care of you, she’s doing this as a favor to me, just until things get better.” Cor pleaded as he held her hands in his before Ada just crumbled and rested her head onto his chest before he pulled her into a hug.

“Fine,” Ada consented as she wiped her streaking eyeliner and mascara and left him to go hand her tables over to other waitresses as Cor told Theo and Stacy himself that Ada needed to go away for a while, which they understood as they quickly cashed her out and Ada left with Cor to go home and pack what she could before making love with Cor as much as she could before she left.

Meanwhile Sylva and Luche were still elbow deep in clothes from not just hot topic but every other store in the mall and beyond. Sylva using visual dimensions rather than actual clothing sizes to make sure she got everything she could for Ada, trying to anticipate Ada’s every need and want, from new clothes, to bras and underwear and makeup and toiletries and things, but Luche could tell she wasn’t buying things with joy because she wanted to, she was doing this because she needed to. She was on a mission and Luche really started to worry since Sylva was so intensely focused and her face was a scowl of determination and they had been shopping non stop since the moment they left the office in mid morning to now, which was now the late afternoon.

“Sly, you should get something to eat.” Luche worried as he felt himself grow famished and his arms grow heavy from carrying almost everything, thinking Sylva wasn’t going to stop until she bought Ada’s literal weight in stuff as he pinned the pile of clothes in his arms to the wall and had buried his face into them trying to catch a few moments of rest.

“Uh huh,” Sylva hummed as she tested the jean’s size in her hands, trying to make sure they would fit. A little big would be ok but she didn’t want to get anything too small.

“Mom! Food.” Luche said a little louder with a little more bite and that seemed to snap her out of her haze.

“Huh? Oh food, sorry Lu, you’re probably starving, yeah, let’s just get this and um, hopefully the food court will have something decent.” Sylva shook her head and blinked as she quickly grabbed all the things she wanted to buy and continued to grab things as she walked to the cash register before they gathered the rest of their bags and quickly walked to the food court in the mall and got something to eat.

“So I take it you can’t really tell me the specifics of why Ada is coming with us tomorrow.” Luche ventured.

“Nope,” Sylva shook her head no as she focused on her food.

“Her life is really in danger then.” Luche concluded as Sylva hesitated for the smallest moment.

“And that’s a fucking yes. Fuck.” Luche growled angrily, having grown quite adept at reading Sylva unusually well.

“Luche, listen to me very, very carefully.” Sylva began as she stopped eating and reached out to put her hand over his to prompt him to look up at her.

“Ada is old enough to know there’s risk. Right now she thinks that the reward of being with Cor is worth the risk of staying with him. Your job, if you really love her, is to show her that there is a life outside of him that she could be living and a life she would be enjoying to the full and better off choosing by leaving him and coming back to you but no one can force her or push her to make that decision, she has to choose that on her own without any prodding from anyone. Hopefully over the next three weeks, she’ll be distracted by Crowe and the baby and all her friends and having fun and you need to remind her to live in the moment because the present is all we have. No one’s future is certain. I know you will make sure she is always out of harm’s way and that she’s safe. Even if you have to come off as a little overprotective to everyone else. In a year or so, you’re both hopefully going to look back on the next three weeks fondly. Make sure you make only good, positive memories for you both. That’s all I can tell you right now.” Sylva urged.

“Should I be bringing a gun?” Luche asked pointedly.

“Just in case, yes, because I know Gladio, Iris and Craig already packed theirs and one more couldn’t hurt.” Sylva nodded.

“Ok, after we’re done eating, lets go get one.” Luche proposed and Sylva nodded yes before she quickly finished her plate.

The next morning, Titus, Hazel, Cor, Ada and Luche as well as Rose and Clarus met up at Sylva’s house as Cor talked with Clarus, Regis and Titus while Luche chatted with Hazel about his new gun as she gave him tips on how to use it best as she revealed her own that she always carried in her purse as Rose did the same with her own gun since Sylva had told both Rose and Hazel that she encouraged Luche to get a gun to protect Ada and they were both relieved to hear it and were impressed with his choice.

“Good morning sweetie, I’m so happy you could come with us.” Sylva greeted Ada sweetly as she hugged Ada tightly as Ada had come into the house, knowing Ada probably needed a mother figure right about now as smiled sadly when Ada hugged her back just as tightly.

“Thanks for having me Mrs...” Ada began to thank her as she fought not to cry again.

“Sylva or Mom sweetie, it’s ok. Now I hope you don’t mind, but I got you a few things to help you enjoy your vacation with all the girls ok?” Sylva informed her as she reached up and wiped a stray tear away from Ada’s eye and gave her an understanding look and encouraging smile.

“Oh you didn’t have to,” Ada shook her head as she sniffled and tried to pull herself back together.

“But I wanted to so I did. So I wanted to run something by you first. Now Luche will also be joining the band group as well and he has a joint credit card with me and I instructed him to buy you whatever you want or need since I won’t personally be with you the whole time whereas he will be and I told him to look after you and take care of you and protect you and I trust him to do that while still maintaining a respectful distance, so think of him like your body guard ok? Is that ok with you or would you prefer me to ask one of the other boys? I know Gladio will be abreast of what’s going on soon and I know he’ll gladly be your shadow too, all the boys should be looking out for you and the other girls.” Sylva put to Ada thoughtfully.

“No, that’s, that’s fine.” Ada nodded in agreement.

“OK, so just in case you’re not completely comfortable with Luche paying for every little thing, here’s a thousand dollars to start off with. Use it for whatever you want or need ok? Don’t worry about a thing and if you try to hand in change and receipts to me or Luche or anyone else I’ll be disappointed.” Sylva gently teased as Ada smiled bashfully as she took the envelope full of money from Sylva.

“I know this is going to be really hard on you, just try to enjoy yourself and have fun and stay in the moment. You are and will be surrounded by surrounded by friends who love you like family and a family takes care of each other. Cor is a big boy, he can handle himself and handle himself well, he’s practically immortal at this point, it’ll be ok, he’s just being protective and so am I ok? Also you have my number, use it if you need or want anything ok? Sky’s the limit. Also I’m sending you with plenty of birth control, not that you’ll need to use it, but it’s important to your health that you stay regular ok?” Sylva urged.

“Thank you, so much.” Ada breathed in relief as Sylva gestured to the luggage Sylva had already packed for Ada.

“Also, we’ll be going on two cruises and they’ll be formal nights and I didn’t know your exact dress size so again, let Luche buy you some formal dresses ok? Also, I packed a few jewelry items to wear for the formal nights on the cruises ok? So when we get back, just make sure to get them back to me ok? Otherwise everything else is all yours, including the luggage. Do you like them?” Sylva asked as she unzipped one of the small carry on size suitcases to reveal a few jewelry cases and showed them to Ada as Ada gasped in astonishment, it was by far the most beautiful jewelry she had ever seen in her life as Sylva smiled brightly, knowing Ada would fall head over heels with some of the last of her mother’s favorite jewelry. Also knowing that if Ada would choose to stay with Luche permanently and faithfully, she would have no trouble gifting these pieces to her as another ‘daughter’ to her.  

“Oh my God! Wow! I love them, thank you so much for letting me borrow them!” Ada thanked her as she carefully touched the pieces reverently and fell head over heels in love with them.

“You’re welcome, I just want you to have fun and look fabulous while doing it, that’s all.” Sylva insisted with a shrug but Ada both could feel and see that Sylva was being completely genuine and that meant the world to her too.

“I’ll do my best.” Ada promised.

“And that’s all anyone can ask of you or anyone else. Also I got you some jewelry for you to keep and it’s in this jewelry case here, so when you get on the bus and get a chance to look it over, let me know what you think. I hope you don’t mind but I had to have Luche help me with this because he knows you and your tastes and sizes better than I do and I apologize if that makes you uncomfortable.” Sylva informed her.

“No, that doesn’t make me uncomfortable, that’s fine, that works actually, I haven’t changed much taste wise or size wise since we’ve been together. I’m sure it will all be great.” Ada nodded.

“Well I didn’t let him pick out your more personal and private items so don’t worry about that ok? All he told me was a bra size and a panty size and I sent him packing to pick out shoes and a good pair of rocker combat boots and he never saw any of those items and I packed all these bags myself.” Sylva explained.

“Whew, ok, yeah, that’s perfect.” Ada smiled in relief.

“Good, come on, we should get some breakfast in us before we go.” Sylva insisted as everyone got breakfast then afterwards got going. Luche went ahead and put Ada’s new luggage in the van since they needed two vehicles to cart everyone and all their stuff while Ada and Cor were saying goodbye as Luche kept his back to them, not wanting to see Cor’s tongue down Ada’s throat as he got used to the weight of the gun on his hip before Rose and Clarus promised Ada that they would look after Cor while she was gone which was really reassuring to her too.

“You’re gonna be ok kid.” Titus offered as he sat between Ada and Hazel in the limo before Ada just hugged his arm and rested her head on his shoulder and practically curled up next to him, the way any little girl would to her father and Titus couldn’t help but be reminded of how young she still was and pet her head affectionately, feeling his fatherly instincts kick in as Hazel continued to talk with Luche.

Once on board Sylva gave Ada a mimosa since that’s what she and Hazel were drinking on the plane but Ada only sipped at it as she was still pretty down before Luche just huffed and went behind the bar and got Ada some of Regis’ favorite whiskey, which was the best whiskey on board the plane and put it into a coffee cup as her tea steeped in another before he simply handed both over to her and walked away again, not knowing if he should talk to her right now or not and wanted to be supportive yet not intrusive and he could see she was already feeling down and he found himself feeling powerless to help before Titus saw Luche’s gesture and could only shake his head as he smiled sadly, knowing full well that Luche still loved her and he felt himself become torn because while he was happy for Cor for having Ada, he wasn’t so sure Ada being with Cor was the best thing for her though so he and Regis went over to where Ada was and sat down on either side of her and told Ada about some of the hi-jinks Cor got into not so long ago which did brighten her up and got her to laugh and smile as Luche stayed with Hazel and Sylva to give Ada some space for the flight as Hazel and Sylva both continued to give him subtle yet very vital advise as he listened to their council attentively.  

When they landed, Noctis and his gang as well as Lunafreya and hers were already there, waiting on them, Crowe being the first to run and practically tackle Ada with a hug as the two started crying as they were cackling with laughter as Regis and Sylva pulled their kids aside and told them what was up and how important it was that they all look out for each other and to take care of each other while Luche loaded up Ada’s things onto the girl’s bus which he was not surprised in the least was the nicer bus, with actual potted plants, like aloe and herbs in the windows and loads of fresh fruit and vegetables and fresh flowers in vases and perfectly clean and tidy and had actual air fresheners, making it smell like a flower shop inside a spa, it even had a little mini lawn in the corner for the puppies to do their business while on the road which even that was immaculately clean and didn’t smell of dog mess at all before he went and put his stuff on the guys’ bus and wasn’t surprised to see the carpet stained and covered with dirt and crumbs, junk food and trash and beer cans, both empty and half full everywhere and the fridge crammed full of left overs while the air literally smelled like stale farts and he wanted to hurl and immediately jump ship and get on the girl’s bus. He wanted to take pictures and send them to Sylva, knowing she would bark at her kids to clean the fuck up.

‘Please spend two seconds checking out this stye of a bus that the boys have.’ Luche texted Sylva real quick.

“So let me see how you guys are doing on the bus!” Sylva insisted with forced happiness as she pushed past Noctis and Ignis and the rest of the guys who suddenly looked like deer caught in the headlights.

“Oh my God. Boys!” Sylva snapped angrily as they all hung their heads in shame as she looked it over before noticing at least in the back of the bus where Noctis’ and Ignis room was- was actually really clean and well taken care of, most likely Ignis’ doing.

“All the boys on the boys’ bus now!” Sylva yelled angrily as they all obeyed and got on, none of them looking her in the eye as they all blushed shamefully as Regis came on board and gasped in horror too before looking at his son and his friends harshly as they ducked their heads even lower.

“Really?” Sylva demanded as she didn’t even want to touch the filth as she put her shirt, that she had thankfully sprayed with perfume over her nose for a moment to get a break from the smell as Luche, Ravus and Nyx just shook their heads in the back of the group. Nyx and Ravus at least grateful they were in a group all their own and had kept the Escalade clean at least.

“Who has severe intestinal distress? Because this stench is not normal, did you boys actually drag your asses on the carpet like a cat instead of wiping?!” Sylva demanded as all the guys snickered a laugh before Regis cleared his throat which got all of them to stop immediately as all the girls had gathered at the entrance of the bus and started cackling at that analogy.

“Yes!” Crowe called out before giggling as Libertus glared at her through the window.

“Also, I realize that for most of you, this is your first time away from home and you want to enjoy the rock star life style but I am not hiring a maid for you guys and the girls will not be cleaning this either, you all will. I will be in constant contact with the girls to make sure they don’t have to pick up after you, you are adults, not toddlers and are perfectly capable of taking care of yourselves and each other. Every five minutes on the five minute mark I want to see progress in cleaning this bus and I will be texting all of you for pictures and all of you will be doing your part. I will work out a rotating cleaning schedule if I have to, or better yet, Ignis, since I’m sure you’re the reason yours and Noctis’ space at least is clean, you are in charge of assigning everyone rotating tasks so that everyone does a little bit of everything. Seriously, this is disgusting. And when was the last time all of you showered? Because I smell B.O. too, put on some God damn deodorant- I packed a literal case of it, where is it? Has anyone used any? You better start because all those girls deserve better than this.” Sylva growled before Regis stepped in.

“And how could they ever expect you to take care of them if you can’t take care of yourselves? You’re lucky I’m not taking pictures of all of this and sending them to your parents.” Regis threatened, shifting back into Principal mode.

“You know what?! Maybe we should.” Sylva said as she got her phone out to take pictures as Regis did the same before they all rushed to stop them.

“No, no, we’re sorry, we’ll clean up, we’ll clean up right now. We’re so sorry.” They all swore as they quickly got to work.

“Thank you. When I see you in a week I want to see this bus just as clean as the girl’s bus is. Because I know Yasmine refuses to put up with filth of any kind and they’ve already been sending me pictures of everything. Now, I’ll see you boys later, I love you all, be good.” Sylva insisted as she hugged them all before she left and took refuge on the girl’s bus as Regis stayed behind to supervise the boys.

“And who has been buying beer?” Regis demanded as he picked up an empty beer can as all the boys looked at each other but refused to look at Regis or answer his question as he narrowed his eyes as he noticed half the boys were now sporting quite a bit of facial hair and were groomed to look quite a bit older than they were. Tredd especially.

Meanwhile back on the girl’s bus. “Oh this is so nice! I love it.” Sylva praised as she looked everything over and noticed the fresh flowers and how there wasn’t a spec of dirt or dust in sight and their cleaning supply pantry was stuffed with cleaning supplies the same way the boy’s fridge was stuffed with leftovers while their own fridge had some leftovers too but mostly fresh fruits and vegetables and some really healthy food choices which she was really proud to see, including several bottles of wine which she didn’t mind one bit, knowing that Luna and Selena would have most likely shared the wine and bar supplies from her parent’s estate which she didn’t have an issue with.

“Actually a lot of the boys like to spend time on our bus because our bus is so nice.” Yasmine admitted.

“Figured they would.” Sylva nodded as she held Otis and Diana, each dog on each arm as the girls showed off their bus and how they had put their own personal touches to all their personal spaces as Sylva praised their decorating choices as Yasmine gave Ada the last slot in the safe for her jewelry and passport. “Goodness, you babies are so precious, makes me want to get a puppy.” Sylva cooed as Otis and Diana tried licking at her face.

“Ok, well you girls take care of each other ok? I have a train to catch. Love you, bye.” Sylva cooed to all the girls as she handed the dogs back and hugged them all before she turned to leave.    

“Oh, and as a reward for being good and responsible and making me so, so proud, here you go.” Sylva winked as she handed them a stack of hundreds. “Divide it evenly girls.” Sylva cooed before all the girls giggled and squealed in delight.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a train to catch.” Sylva grinned as she walked off the bus and walked right back onto the boys bus.

“How are we doing in here?” Sylva asked as she poked her head into the bus to see all the boys with garbage bags and Clorox wipes while Regis took the cue as they both bid everyone goodbye and got off the bus as Luche was vacuuming and subtly mouthed ‘thank you’ to Sylva as Ignis did the same as she winked at them before Ignis and Luche looked at each other questioningly before Ignis pointed subtly to Luche who nodded.

‘Thank you.’ Ignis mouthed to Luche who nodded sagely at that and went back to vacuuming.

When Sylva got back on her plane and took off, Ada decided to pull all her bags out and actually go through them, curious and excited to see what was in them and noticed a lot of the clothes smelled like Luche and his cologne because he was the one to carry most of it and she may or may not have inhaled that scent deep into her lungs and welcomed the comfort that brought her. Happy and pleased that he chose so well for her.

Meanwhile back in the boy’s bus.

“Since when do you carry a gun?” Tredd asked Luche as he noticed it.

“Can’t be too careful.” Luche replied before Tredd frowned and looked at the other guys while Gladio had quickly finished his part and was on the phone with Cor, getting the real story over in a corner.

“Oh shit.” Gladio breathed before he went and got his own gun out of his bag and put it on.

“What the hell is going on?” Tredd demanded as he watched Gladio put only not only his own guns on but handed Iris hers as she came on board to get armored up too since she had just gotten off the phone with her mom as Gladio and Iris gave each other meaningful looks before Iris told Craig what was happening in Spanish before he went and got his too.

“Seriously! What the fuck is going on? Are we about to knock over Fort Knox?” Tredd asked.

“We can’t tell you cause you’ll run your mouth and ruin it,” Iris growled threateningly.

“Oh shit!” Tredd realized. “Ada’s in danger because Cor got close to someone he shouldn’t of didn’t he and she’s here with us to get away from the shit hitting the fan!” Tredd realized as he put all of that together before Luche pinned Tredd to the wall by the throat.

“If you run your mouth, you will get her and the rest of us killed do you understand?!” Luche roared.

“The guys we’re protecting ourselves and everyone else from have already killed thousands and thousands of people. We are easy targets. Just a bunch of kids against an army of very highly trained killers. How easy would it be to kill all of us? While we’re up on stage or at a gas station in the middle of nowhere? While the girls are selling merch or out shopping? How easy would it be for them to get snatched up? Or kidnapped? A million things can go wrong. So congratulations for figuring it out, now shut your mouth and don’t breathe a word of this to anyone or if we get caught I’m telling them to shoot you first.” Gladio snarled as he had Tredd pinned up against the wall too while Craig was holding Iris back from kicking the shit out of Tredd too.

“Ok, I got it, I got it, don’t choke me you bastard.” Tredd tapped on Luche’s hold on his throat before Luche let go as he and Gladio slowly backed away but stared daggers at him as did everyone else.

“Jesus,” Tredd coughed and just shrugged it off before Gladio held a meeting with all the guys on the bus.  

“Alright, in case you haven’t figured this out, Cor Leonis is about to nail one of the most notorious mobster boss and gangster that’s currently in the US right now. His name is Gilgamesh and no one knows what he looks like because he wears a freaky mask and this fucker has laid waste to entire police forces and swat teams before because they wear super advanced armor and only carry armor piercing rounds so they can kill everyone else while no one can touch them. He has an army of dozens of generals with thousands of foot soldiers under them. His right hand man is a woman, she’s simply known as the Empress and she’s just as lethal as he is and she has an ace up her own sleeve, someone known as WitchHazel, all one word, capital W, capital H or in Chinese it’s Jin Lu Mei, because she is either Chinese herself or knows Chinese as her mother tongue because the one account Cor has of her is the two of them talking to each other in perfectly fluent Chinese. When either another rival mob, or another rival gang or even another law enforcement force has cornered the Empress before, she makes one call or one text and within minutes WitchHazel comes and breaks her out of anything and everything and they slip away again and disappear, no one knows who she is, all we do know is that it is a she, but she’s clearly trained as special forces because she’s a sniper and takes out a building full of people with surgical precision, like she’s the Punisher and she is a one woman army. She’s trained with CDC and the best idea they have is that she’s a mercenary and she’s just as dangerous as Gilgamesh and the Empress. Now chances are, we’ll be cool because we personally don’t pose a threat to Gilgamesh and hopefully nothing will happen but we will be careful, the girls are counting on us and so is Cor. Everyone needs to look out for each other, no one goes off alone, especially the girls and especially Ada. Luche, Iris and myself will be on Ada duty but Luche is tasked with taking care of her for the most part because Cor asked Sylva to take care of Ada and when Sylva’s not around, Luche will be doing that for her. Iris, you’ll keep eyes on her while she’s on the girl’s bus. Guys, keep your girls close. We’ll just have to be the overprotective, possessive boyfriends until further notice.” Gladio ordered as all the guys nodded in agreement.

Once on the train, Hazel and Titus unpacked and relaxed and opened one of the bottles of wine already in their luxurious cabin.

“Where did all of this come from?” Titus asked as he grabbed her toiletry bag to put her toiletries away and saw fifty thousand dollars in it.

“The same people who encouraged me to get out of town.” Hazel answered as she took it and put the money in the little safe. “So I’m using it and splurging it on you and this trip and keeping you safe.” Hazel added.

“Those people wouldn’t be lead by a guy named Gilgamesh would they?” Titus asked as Hazel froze in fear so he put the bag down and gathered her in his arms. “Hey, no one is listening to us right now, no one is watching us, the curtains are closed, there’s no bugs in this room and I swear on my life whatever you tell me I will never repeat to another living soul, just...tell me, let me know what I’m up against. Please.” Titus pleaded with her as her eyes watered.

“It’s not Gilgamesh, or Gil as I know him, it’s Charlie.” Hazel finally admitted.

“Who’s Charlie?” Titus frowned.

“Charlie, short for Charlotte, Gilgamesh’s Empress, his right hand man that’s a woman, that’s my sister.” Hazel revealed as Titus’ eyes got wide as he looked at her in surprise, not having thought in a million years that Hazel was so close to the most dangerous criminal he had ever heard of. And knowing she wouldn’t be apart of this if she had a choice. She was trapped.

“...How? She’s not...” Titus tried to argue.

“White? No she isn’t. Her birth mother, is my adopted step mother who raised us side by side by twins because we were born on the same day, you know my mother is Chinese. She had an affair with an older black guy as a teenager and when her parents found out, they tried to force an abortion on her but she was too far along by the time they found out and had to drop out of school and brought shame on the family and they then tried to force her to give Charlotte up for adoption and she refused and my father, who was in the next room over and holding me while he grieved my mother because my birth mother died giving birth to me, he heard the commotion and came to my mother’s rescue and practically married her on the spot to save her from her own parents. When Charlotte was a little girl, we went to a family reunion and my uncle, my father’s brother, raped Charlotte, my dad killed him on the spot and it fucked Charlie up. Fucked all of us up. As a teenager she got in trouble and never, ever got out of it, just got into deeper and deeper trouble with increasingly more dangerous people. When Gilgamesh got a hold of her, he claimed he found his ‘Empress’ because he’s Chinese and obsessed with Imperial China and finding a beautiful blasian girl who was just as jaded and just as ruthless and cut throat as he is, but more importantly, was just as brilliant as he is, was all he wanted. Now that Gil and Charlie are together, they’re an unstoppable powerhouse. I’m safe from them and protected by them because I’m Charlie’s sister but you and everyone else is not. You can not tell Cor or anyone else any of this. No one can know any of this. If Cor were to find out and try to bring me in for questioning or use this against me, or them, it will cost him his life before he can enter the interrogation room. They’re not above mass murder, either civilians or an entire district of law enforcement, in fact I know they already have done both and they have moles in everything. I can’t go to the police, or sheriff’s office, I can’t go to the U.S. Marshals, I can’t go to the CIA or the FBI, definitely not congress because I’m pretty sure Gilgamesh has people in all of it, I don’t know who they are and thankfully I’ve never met them so even I couldn’t expose them even if I wanted to. I just know they’re there.” Hazel revealed as she expected Titus to withdraw from her but he stayed steady as ever as he listened with rapt attention.

“Ok. Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere. I love you.” Titus nodded in understanding before he just tightened his hold on her and hugged her as she hugged him tightly, feeling even better now that she told him and he didn’t run or withdraw or anything. She took a leap of faith telling him and he caught her and was keeping her and that’s all she wanted and all she could ever ask for.

“I love you too.” Hazel murmured as she clung to him.

“We’ll get through this, together. I promise.” Titus whispered and Hazel for the first time, allowed herself to really believe that and put real faith in that because he really meant it.

“Just don’t try to free me from all this ok? Everyone who has ever tried has died. I can’t loose you.” Hazel pleaded.

“Ok,” Titus agreed but he was already mentally trying to figure out exactly how he was going to be the first to succeed. Having the odds stacked against him wasn’t new. These were just different odds is all. Instead of a football game or his career, it was his life and the love of his life. He couldn’t screw this up. He waited his whole life for Hazel to come along and now that he had her, he was not going to let her go, ever. And he’ll be damned if she ever felt powerless or helpless or she was like a prisoner or slave to anyone’s will but her own ever again. He just had to bide his time and be smart about this. Maybe he needed to play some chess with Regis while they were on the train to really improve his tactical thinking skills.

Meanwhile back on the girl’s bus, Ada was still going through all of the things Sylva had bought for her and was putting on a fashion show for the rest of the girls which boosted her confidence and made her feel better too especially once she got into her makeup and all the girls helped her put it on and got her looking like a model. Helping take picture after picture of her to send to Cor and Sylva.

While back on the boy’s bus Luche had just settled into his bunk, being ever so grateful Sylva invested in some outrageously comfortable mattresses for both buses and he had already packed a sheet set for himself and his bunk, not knowing who had slept on his bunk before him and not wanting to know who or what had happened, he just Lysol-ed the bunk then Febreeze-ed it then put on his own sheet set and bedding before putting on his own pillows too. He still had a lot of think over and mentally figure out. He couldn’t be rash, he had to be smart. That one rile from Tredd had him ready to take his friend’s head off. He had to remember that Tredd wasn’t the enemy. Gilgamesh was, although Gilgamesh wouldn’t even be an issue if Cor wasn’t a factor in everyone’s lives. Maybe if Gilgamesh could just take Cor out before he got taken down so the rest of them would be ok and unharmed, that would be ok. Honestly that would be, in his mind, the most ideal situation. Because he could more easily catch Ada from such an emotional devastation. But then again if that happened Cor would die a golden boy hero and she’d be liable to go find another just like Cor. Ok, maybe that wasn’t the greatest idea. Maybe Sylva’s idea was the best after all, Ada just needed time and space away from Cor to gain some perspective of her life and to enjoy this time with her friends and away from him and then when she got back she’d see how much he was really lacking compared to himself. He just had to prove himself better and more superior to Cor. But he still needed to be true to himself, but also he needed to do right by her too. He needed to do her justice and he needed to win her over without- as Sylva put it- ‘actively’ win her over. She said to be subtle, he needed to do subtle but meaningful gestures.

“Fuck, give those mice in your head a break, I can hear their wheels turning a million miles an hour from here.” Tredd teased from the bunk across the aisle.  

“Fuck off dude.” Luche bit out.

“Seriously, I can hear you huffin and puffin from here like a little bitch.” Tredd snickered.

“How many times have you gotten punched so far on this trip?” Luche asked to which Tredd just laughed harder. “And how many times would you like to get shot?” Luche snapped.

“Ooh, so now you got a gun, you’re gonna shoot your bro just for ruffling your feathers a little?” Tredd taunted as he reached out and poked into the curtain.

“What part of fuck off do you not understand?” Luche swiped at the intruding finger before Tredd pulled Luche’s curtain back a little.

“Look, I got ideas to help bruh, do you want to hear them or not?” Tredd insisted.

“If I do, will you leave me the fuck alone?” Luche droned.

“No promises.” Tredd grinned.

“Fine,” Luche huffed as he rolled over to face Tredd and ripped his curtain back. “What?” Luche demanded.

“Bruh, you were ready to kill me the moment you thought Ada would get hurt, no guy gets that fired up and ready to go on the rampage unless he really loves the girl.” Tredd grinned victoriously as Luche narrowed his eyes and looked out to see if anyone was listening or paying attention to their conversation.

“Oh relax, no one gives a shit. Look, the way I see it, Sylva hired you to be Ada’s bodyguard right? To protect her from everything and take care of her right?” Tredd reasoned.

“She didn’t hire me to do it but yeah.” Luche bit out.

“Damn, I was hoping you had some extra cash on you then.” Tredd teased before Luche grabbed his curtain to pull it back closed.

“Wait, wait, wait, that wasn’t my point, don’t be so hasty.” Tredd stopped him.

“My point is, you get to be her bodyguard and caretaker right?” Tredd furthered.

“Yeah,” Luche confirmed.

“On Sylva’s dime.” Tredd furthered.

“It doesn’t matter who’s dime it is.” Luche shook his head no, not wanting Tredd to get any ideas.

“Well my point is, still, pull out all the stops, go whole hog on her, now’s your chance to really take her back man, take advantage of it and just lavish all the stupid shit on her you can. Spoil her rotten whether it’s your money or not. Prove that you can take better care of her than Cor ever could. We both know you win out financially at least. You two are still friends, it’ll grow into something more before you know it. Now all you gotta do is be the perfect prince charming you usually are minus the uptight traitorous prick for snitching on us about the bus and you’ll be good to go.” Tredd grinned victoriously.

“I’m not a traitorous prick.” Luche argued.

“Yeah but you are hella uptight and you need to loosen up and have fun too, none of us can cut loose if you’re still uptight and we all think that everything we do is going to be repeated and reported to the biggest mom of all. Even if she’s the hottest MILF ever.” Tredd pointed out.

“Fine,” Luche groaned.

“That’s my bruh, happy to have you with us.” Tredd held out his fist for Luche to fist bump it which Luche returned their own bro handshake that was still unique to the two of them.