#i remember what a relief it was to have other clients be cool and kind about it so i could regain equilibrium

[sharas-bae]

according to the ultrasound tech who did my echocardiogram my heart shows up so clearly it could be in a textbook and i could get a side gig as an equipment model at ultrasound conferences so. adding that to the list of oddest compliments i've received!

[doubleleoenergy]

iv. Lolita, Lolita Series

Hey Lolita, hey! Hey Lolita, hey! I know what the boys want, I'm not gonna play.

Series Masterlist

Pairing: bestfriendsdad!Andy Barber x fem!reader

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, mentions of alcohol, mentions of relationship violence, oral (female receiving), pet names, dirty talk

Words: 2240

Summary: Andy’s falling at y/n’s feet, just like all the other boys before.

Six days. It had been six agonizing days since their encounter at the club, and Andy Barber was losing his cool. The nightly, and sometimes midday, jerkoff sessions weren’t quite enough to satisfy his hunger.

Things with y/n had been the same, as if their little blowjob fest hadn’t happened. They continued to carpool to the office, continued to be friendly back at home, and y/n continued to tease him as always. She’d wear her tight and barely there clothing around the house and the office and had even started walking around in her towel after her showers. Andy didn’t mind the view, and neither did the boys, stuttering and stammering at the sight of her. But again, it wasn’t enough. 

That morning y/n greeted him with another breakfast and coffee before work, donning a black long sleeve crop top with a slit across to give him the view of just a bit of cleavage. Her light denim jeans were practically painted on her body, her perky ass bouncing with each step in her black strappy heels.

“You look good, y/n. As always.” Andy commented, taking a sip of his coffee. He thought a bit of flirting might help his case of getting closer to his little Lolita, though she didn’t seem phased by the compliment.

“Thanks Andy, we should get going. I’m shadowing you with your clients today, remember?” Her internship had been stellar, learning valuable information about the field and her future career. The only problem occasionally was Neal, who tended to linger too long at her desk and always stared down her shirt as he talked. Normally she would put the man in her place, but it offered a good source of jealousy from Andy, which she couldn’t pass up.

Their ride to the office was filled with conversation as Andy briefed her on their clients for the day, y/n taking notes in her notebook of all the critical details. Though she probably wouldn’t need the notes, she had read over the client’s files for the past two days in anticipation.

Y/N sashayed down the hall in front of Andy to his office, and he watched her ass the entire time she moved, trying not to pop a boner before the workday even started. After arriving at the office door and unlocking it, the two got comfortable for their first client of the day.

“Are you nervous?” Andy questioned, eyes focusing intently on her.

“Of course not. I’m just eager to please.” Her tone was heavy with seduction, lips curving into a huge smile when Andy shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

By the time they had finished up with their clients for the day it was nine o’clock, a much later day at the office for them since y/n had started her internship. The two were both starving since lunch, stomachs growling as they headed home for the evening.

“Jacob said he and the boys are going to see a midnight movie showing after the bar, won’t be back till late.” Y/N announced, fingers typing out a quick reply to Jacob.

“Alright, are you interested in going out for some food? I think it’s way too late to start cooking something. We can go to that Mexican restaurant up the street from the house if you want.” Andy suggested, glancing over at y/n as he parked the car in the driveway.

“That’s fine, let me go change really quick and then we can go.” Y/N walked straight through the garage doors and up into her room, getting herself refreshed for dinner. Andy decided to change as well, pulling on a pair of dark denim jeans and a grey Henley long-sleeved shirt that accentuated his muscles. He was honestly hoping that y/n might consider this a date but given how she seemed to avoid any movement in their relationship, it seemed unlikely.

Andy scrolled through his email on his cell phone, leaning against the kitchen counter as she walked down the stairs. His eyes met hers before traveling down to the tight burgundy floral mini dress, the thin spaghetti straps barely holding in her braless breasts as they poked out slightly above the fabric. Andy’s eyes continued lower to the slit in the dress, staring at where the slit hit mid-thigh and ended right at her hip bone. Was she not wearing any underwear?

“Okay, I’m ready.” Y/N’s black stilettos clicked against the hardwood as she made her way towards the door, headed towards his car once again. Andy trailed behind, his eyes roaming over her backside while his cock stirred in his jeans.

The restaurant was less than a mile from the house, a quick drive for them both, which was a relief considering how hungry they both were. The waitress came up shortly after they sat, a young perky blonde who seemed to be a little extra attentive to Andy, though he didn’t pay any attention to her. He was too busy watching y/n scanning the menu, chewing her bottom lip as she figured out what to eat.

“I’ll have a Coors Light and a southwest salad, please.” Y/N’s voice was soft as she spoke to the waitress.

“I’ll have a Coors as well with the street taco trio. Thank you.” Andy handed over their menus before returning his attention back to y/n. “Did you like sitting in on the meetings today?” He asked, leaning back in his seat.

“Definitely, it’s nice to fully see the process at work. Usually I’m filing the paperwork after a meeting, but today gave me the chance to start from the initial meeting to the filing.” The waitress arrived with their drinks as she finished her sentence, taking a long swig from her beer.

“I’m glad. We make a good team, don’t you think?” Andy had to admit, she was the most impressive intern they’d had since he started there. But the question isn’t just about work, hinting at the possibility of them together.

“We’re alright.” She responded, shrugging her shoulders. Andy sighed, six days of waiting to figure out anything between them was torture, just like the mind games she was playing with him now. His thoughts are briefly interrupted by the arrival of their meal, using the break in their conversation to consider his next words carefully. It was like he was building a case as he had done hundreds of times at work, though this case was a bit higher stake for him.

“Look, in the club I know I said we couldn’t do this...do us.” Good start, Andy-boy. “But we’re both adults as you said. It’s not weird, unless we make it weird, and if we keep things private for a while so as not to hurt Jacob...why don’t we give it a try? Us, I mean.”

Y/N chewed thoughtfully on her meal, listening to his case and reflecting on his words. “I’m not a relationship girl, you know that.” The thought of being in a committed relationship with anyone terrified her, a trigger from her family trauma. What happens if Andy is kind at first, but later turns into a monster like her father? Would she really want to end up like her mom? No thank you.

“I do know that, but I also know that there’s something between us, y/n. You can’t deny that. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have done what you had.” Andy retorted, taking a bite of his tacos.

“Everything I do is because I want to do it.” She declared, leaning back in her seat and crossing her arms over her chest. “A relationship is different, Andy. Why tie yourself down to someone? It’s not like it ever lasts, you should know that firsthand.” She’s referring to his divorce, the thought that Andy even wanted to be committed to someone else after that was confusing.

“Maybe that’s true, or maybe we’re just waiting for the right person to change our minds.” He’s leaning on the table now, his eyes locked on hers to gauge her reactions.

Y/N’s eyebrow raises at his response, her head tilting to the side. “And you’re trying to say that I’m that right person?” Her eyes roll back into her head, straightening her body and digging back into her meal. “You’re thinking a little too highly after one hookup.”

Andy knows they’re going in circles with the conversation and so he drops it, finishing up their meals in silence and not protesting when y/n asks to split the bill. Definitely not a date.

The ride back to the house is uncomfortably silent, y/n playing Candy Crush on her phone to distract herself from any further talk about a relationship. Y/N is about to go up the stairs to her room when they arrive, but Andy stops her, grabbing her wrist and pulling her back over to him.

“What are you doing?” She asks, brows furrowed as her eyes meet his blue hues. Andy tugs her closer by her waist in response to her question, lips hovering inches away.

“Think about it, we’d be good together, you can’t deny that.” And with that Andy is leaning in, pressing his lips passionately against y/n’s own. Without any hesitation y/n reciprocates the kiss, hands instinctively wrapping around his neck to pull him in closer, if that was even possible.

Their lips dance together in the perfect rhythm for a moment before Andy breaks the kiss to pepper wet kisses to the flesh on y/n’s neck. She rolls her head to one side to give him better access, tugging at the hair on the nape of his neck when he nibbles on a sensitive spot. She lets him continue for a moment before pushing him gently off her, confusing laced across his face.

Y/N’s heels click against the hardwood as she starts walking down the hallway towards his bedroom door, stopping right in front of it and looking back at Andy, a cocky grin spreading across her swollen lips.

“I think it’s time you return the favor from the other night.” And with that she slips into his bedroom, Andy following quickly on her heels and shutting the door behind them. He watches, eyes blown wide, as she saunters over to the bed, sitting right on the edge of it. She leans her body back, her weight against her elbows, opening her legs to reveal her bare core, her heels firmly placed on the floor in front of the bed for balance.

“Don’t just stand there and stare, Andy. Get to work.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice, practically crawling across the room, his knees hitting the soft carpet a foot away from her outstretched legs. His strong hands move from her knees up her thighs, pushing her dress up to her stomach to reveal her wet heat to him.

It was glistening like diamonds, just as beautiful as the rest of her body. He rests his hands on each of her inner thighs, pushing her legs slightly wider and locking his eyes with hers as he leans forward and licks a strip up her slit. His first taste of her is incredible, better than he could’ve imagined, and he wastes no time on diving in further, lapping at her core.

Andy’s beard tickles her pussy as he works his tongue into her, sending shivers down her spine. Her fingers instinctively grab at his hair, her grip tightening whenever he lapped at a spot that made her moan. She kept her eyes on him the entire time, loving the way he looked between her legs. She could get used to this.

Andy moved his head back, his pointer and middle finger rubbing against her wet folds before they dive in, curling deep and releasing a satisfied moan from her lips. “Your pussy is so pretty, so wet and delicious. My little Lolita.” There goes the pet name from the other night, though it was quite fitting for her.

His fingers find a good rhythm inside her, eliciting the prettiest moans from her lips. His cock is painfully hard in his jeans, though he knows right now it is all about her pleasure. He can tell her orgasm is building, moving his face back to suck at her clit while his fingers keep their pace in and out of her dripping core.

Her walls start to tighten, y/n seeing stars as she feels that familiar buildup in her stomach, tightening her grip on his hair. Andy’s eyes lock back on hers, a seductive smirk spreading across his lips.

“Let go, Lolita. Cum for me.” And just like that her orgasm rips through her, her walls tightening around his fingers as she pushes his face flush against her folds, allowing him to lap up her release.

She’s shaking by the time he pulls away, his beard covered in her slick, the sight alone giving her a sense of pride and ownership over him.

“That was incredible.” Y/N announces, adjusting her dress and standing back up, stepping towards the door of the bedroom. Andy’s jaw drops, his cock twitching as she walks away. “Where are you going? I’m hard as a rock right now.”

Y/N stops to look at him, her eyes trailing to the bulge in his jeans, shrugging her shoulders. “Guess you’ll have to jerk off to your fantasies of me as always.” And with that she opens the door and exits the bedroom, leaving Andy kneeling with frustration against the carpet.

Tagging those who may be interested. Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list: @midnightf @my-divine-death @saamwilsonn @fierylibraa @fuckandfluff​ @rattlemyb0nes​ @rootcrop @goldenboysteve​  @turtoix​  @jeremyrennermakesmesmile​  @ccmarvelxx ​

[wolvesandpetals]

Loki x Sylvie Post-Finale Fanfiction (Angst, Rated Teen) Part 1 of 2

SPOILER ALERT.

It's probably just the alcohol, but the beats of the music are starting to sound a little bit like a marching drum that's announcing war. She can feel herself dancing along to it, but her whole body is on alert, ready to switch to fight and flight any second.

"So, cool place huh?" The bloke in the leather jacket asks.

She tries to remember his name. Jeff something. Or maybe Jed. No, not Jed, she's thinking of Star Wars again. That's what happens when you binge watch a multiverse of movies in a single day.

Oh, yeah, that's right. She broke the multiverse.

Another shot of tequila, and she takes not-Jed's hand in hers. It doesn't feel right, at least not the way-

No.

She realises he asked her a question, but she can't remember what, and she just laughs, because that always works.

Encouraged, he leans in close and whispers into her ears. "How about we get out of here?"

"And go where, exactly?" She asks, but she's not sure he understands, not with how slurred the words come out.

She laughs again, and this time, it's bitter. This time, she's laughing at how this is so him, this getting drunk in the face of imminent danger and making a mess of things.

(But I'm not you.)

---

She's frozen in her place the second the glowing yellow door appears. But it's not for her, at least not this time.

She hasn't been on the run for a while. Doesn't need to be. Because even though she is the one who unleashed the chaos, it's the chaos that needs to be contained immediately. She's low on the list of priorities.

The TVA will come for her. But not right now.

---

It's extremely easy pretending to be a psychic. All she has to do is take her client's hands and enchant him, find a memory, describe it back to him.

Sometimes she does it just for fun, just to see the look of amazement on their faces.

Other times, she does it for the money she needs to survive.

"And I see a blonde woman. Very beautiful."

"That's my wife."

The way he smiles, loving and proud, makes her heart drop.

"What do you see in her future? Is she happy? Does she get the job at the magazine?"

There is definitely at least one timeline where she does get the job, but The Enchantress cannot exactly tell if it's this one. She can't actually see the future, after all.

She sees the colors drain from his face as her silence swallows the room. "She's going to be okay, right? I just want her to be okay."

(I just want you to be okay.)

There's that bitter laugh again, because-

No. She can't do this right now.

"She loves you very much", she whispers, to the man in front of her, and to the man who is not there to hear those words.

---

Mobius finds her in the middle of a concert by a Nirvana where Kurt Cobain never died. She can easily slip away, disappear into the screaming, writhing crowd if she wants.

Or she can just take him some place quiet and hear him out.

"Help us", Mobius pleads. He sounds exhausted, and not just physically. "We're outnumbered and outwitted. Our world is in danger."

"This isn't my world", she reminds him.

"Yet, you're here", he retorts.

Her smile is pained. "Where else will I go?"

He is sympathetic, like he always has been. And he offers her a new glorious purpose. "Come with me. We need you. He needs you."

She feels the air find its way out of her lungs the same way she pushed him out of her life- painfully, forcefully. "H-how is he?"

"He's okay... all things considered."

Now there's a cocktail of relief and disappointment that will give her months of sleepless nights.

"Tell him I'm-" she starts, but she doesn't know how to finish that sentence. What can she tell him? That she's sorry for not trusting him when she should have? That she's sorry for making the universes collide?

That she's sorry for betraying him and breaking his heart?

(How will I know you won't betray me at the end?)

"Nevermind."

---

It's been really hard facing the consequences of her actions, watching the timelines bleed into each other and destroy people's lives- families torn, achievements gone, every little anomaly delving into death and destruction. Every headline on the newspaper is her fault, and she has to live with that.

But that seems so easy compared to this moment where she has to face him.

The plan was to send him away, kill He Who Remains, give people their free will back, save the world, then come back to him. Yeah, he'd be mad at her at first, sure, but he'd forgive her eventually, she was confident.

Then the timelines started to branch the minute she stuck the dagger in that terrifying man's chest, and she knew she had screwed up.

She had sunk to the ground in defeat as the realisation of the repercussions hit her, and she did what she has always done- run.

She didn't even realise she had sent him to the wrong universe until she teleported herself into another universe as well. The journey back was long and lonely, but she dreamt of him in colors while the world was bleeding red, and that was enough to keep her going.

She doesn't really know what she'll do when she sees him again. Neither does she know what reaction she expects from him. Nothing he can say to her can be worse than what she thinks of herself.

A part of her hopes he would be overwhelmingly happy, he would come running to her, just like he did at The Void, greet her with the smile that has won a hundred hearts- including hers, and tell her everything will be alright. Another part of her fears that he would be furious, and he would confront her with accusations of unleashing havoc on all worlds- especially his.

What she never expected is this eerie calm that makes her feel like she is standing in the storm center.

His walls are up.

And it causes her to redirect the anger she feels at herself towards him. There's venom in her voice. "So you do get to rule, after all."

"I don't feel much like a king." He shrugs. "I'm more of a multiversal janitor. Mopping up multiversal messes."

"My messes."

"Our messes." He corrects, his features softening around the edges. "We made a mistake." He has been saying that ever since he found himself in the alternate TVA, and that hasn't changed even after getting back to his own version of the bureau. Always "we", never "she". He simply cannot bring himself to blame her without taking accountability for his part in the mess.

"Don't patronize me." Her hands are shaking, just like her voice, a sharp contrast to his steady silhouette, and can he just hold her, please? "I don't need you to take the fall for me."

His eyes go cold, like they were forged in the heart of Jotunheim. "Of course not", he says, fully composed. "You don't need me for anything. It's not like we're in this together."

(Maybe we can figure it out-together.)

---

She now knows her walls don't- can't- keep the hurt out- it just keeps her locked inside this cage of distrust and insecurities. And the price she has to pay for it is too high.

They could have been lying on a beach somewhere, sipping mimosas right now. Instead, they're here, in the vast, silent library of the TVA, sitting on separate tables, reading files on variants.

The only thing worse than bearing the weight of his gaze is having him stare at his files without looking in her direction even once. She can't take it anymore.

"I'm sorry." She suddenly blurts out.

He looks up, confused. "I'm sorry?"

"I'm sorry for what I did." She repeats. It's difficult to start an apology, but once she finds the strength to begin, the rest of it flows automatically. "I'm sorry I messed up everything. I'm sorry I broke the timelines. I'm sorry the world is in danger." She takes in a deep breath. "And I'm sorry I betrayed you."

His smile is the saddest kind. "A Loki betraying a Loki. That's the least surprising thing in the world. What's shocking is how I didn't see it coming. You really had me going with that kiss. Very nice distraction. Very Loki."

Free will comes with the fine-print of living with the consequences of your choices. And she has to live with hers every day. The tears finally spill out of her eyes. She hasn't let herself cry for a long, long time. But now she's breaking down worse than the multiverse. "I didn't do it to distract you. I did it to say goodbye."

He gets up, and she panics that he's leaving. Instead, he sits down in front of her, reaches for her hand, but changes his mind mid-way and lets them fall to his side. "You didn't have to say goodbye."

"It's all I've ever known." She feels like that scared little girl, far from home, running from minute men, with nobody to turn to but herself. "I told you, I don't have anyone."

"You had me."

That's the saddest part of it all, isn't it? Everything else in her life is the TVA's fault. She's torn from Asgard? Hasn't seen her parents in years? Can't remember her brother Thor? Spent her whole childhood running and hiding? All TVA.

But this? This is all her own doing. This is the one time she had something real, something worth holding onto, someone worth fighting against the world for. Instead, she questioned his intentions, didn't hold on, fought him and ruined everything.

"I didn't want to rule, Sylvie", he finally tells her. "I wanted you."

She has dreamed of this moment when he tells her how he feels. They have come so close to it so many times, the words dangling off the edge of his tongue but never quite finding their way out. She has always known- every word, every action pointed to it. But it was so hard to imagine someone could love her.

It's so hard to imagine someone can love her again. The past tense in his wording terrifies her worse than any danger ever could. "Is it too late to fix things?"

His smile doesn't reach his eyes. "We are fixing things. That's why we are here. Saving the universe."

"You know what I mean."

"I don't know how to trust you again, Sylvie." He tells her point blank- no deception, no lies, no Loki-ism. "And you never trusted me to begin with."

That's not entirely true. She trusts him more than she has trusted anyone. "I really thought I was doing the right thing."

"I know."

(Not to be dramatic, but yeah, we're saving the universe.)

---

The Avengers are much nicer than Loki described them, considering they don't kill her for what she has done, instead tell her about their own journeys towards redemption. Wanda tells her about the man she has loved and lost, and the pain she has caused to an entire town. Barnes talks about his past as a brainwashed assassin. Clint tells her the story of Natasha and how she took charge and changed her life.

Thor is the kindest of them all. He talks about how far Loki himself has come. He tells her stories of his version of Asgard, the nine realms, the glorious battles, the beauty of earth.

She still dreams of death, but sometimes she doesn't.

Sometimes, she hopes.

---

(To be continued)

[mackeydoodledoo]

Café Food and Tattoos

Pairing: Daniela Dimitrescu x (Fem!)Reader

Summary: One small glance at each other from across the way, has Daniela Dimitrescu enticed. One post-work encounter has her walking R home and visiting R during R’s work hours. Turns out that Daniela is not only there for the café food.

Warning: None, fluff all the way :)

A/N: So, this original idea is from @su-lilly-reblogs​ and I really love the idea of Daniela being a tattoo artist and I just love this entire idea in general! It’s a little short but I hope this entry is a good one! 

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

As you were cleaning a table out on the patio, you heard a door from over next door open. Being the person to always want to see who was coming out of the tattoo place next door, you saw a strawberry-blonde woman step out. You attempt to snap your focus back on bussing tables out on the patio but when you look up at the same woman that had stepped outside, she had noticed you staring at her. The world stopped for you. She looked so enticing to you. You just wanted to drop everything and walk over to her. However, you were snapped back to reality when your elbow made contact with a glass cup. Your instincts had caught the glass just before it could make contact with the ground. You sigh when you looked back up to the tattoo place and the woman was no longer there. 

When you stopped at a crosswalk, you shiver at the slight breeze of the cool evening. You regretted not bringing a jacket of some sort. However, you felt a jacket being placed upon your shoulders. You could feel the presence of another person standing next to you. You use your peripherals and from the corner of your eye, you saw a familiar strawberry-blonde hair. 

"Warm now?" She asks 

"Yeah," you slightly smile, "Thanks." 

"Daniela Dimitrescu," she answers 

"Y/n Y/l/n," you reply 

When the crosswalk light had allowed you to cross you noticed that Daniela was walking alongside you. 

"So," you break the silence, "How long have you've been tattooing?" 

"Since my apprenticeship at 18," she answers, "I mostly tattoo in black and white. Majority of my works are botanical and anatomical." 

"Has any client requested a tattoo that was out of your comfort zone?" You ask 

"A couple of times," she answers you, "But, the clients loved the end products. So if one would specifically request for something I don't normally do I'll do it." 

"Maybe I'll have to get a tattoo done by you one of these days," you smile 

From the corner of your eye, you could see that Daniela smiled at your suggestion. What you didn't notice was how she was still be your side long after the both of you met at the crosswalk. 

"Did you want someone accompanying you home?" She asks, realizing your silence 

"That would be nice," you say, "We're pretty much here already." 

You walk up the steps to your house and turn around. You notice that Daniela is no longer in sight.... You sighed as you were going to offer her a cup of coffee to go. Even give her jacket back to her as it was still placed on your shoulders. You couldn't help but take in the scent of herbs and citrus that lingers on her jacket. Maybe she'll stop by tomorrow... I'll give her jacket back then.

The following morning was a mess. Table after table you barely could keep yourself steady trying to wait tables, clean the tables etc. You weren't the only one on the floor however, nearly everyone requested for your presence specifically. It was hell. 

"Y/n, a table is requesting for you," your coworker says 

Great... Just when you were able to breathe. You compose yourself and head back out onto the floor but you freeze. 

"Daniela?" You call out, walking toward her with a menu in your hands 

"Hi y/n," she smiles 

"Fancy seeing you here," you smile back, "What can I get you to drink?" 

"Water," she says, looking up at you 

When you return to her table with a glass of water, you go on to check on your other tables with the assistance of your coworker. 

"Sorry about that, its been a mess all morning," you sigh, seating yourself across from Daniela 

"That’s okay love," she says 

"You know what you want to eat yet?" You ask, taking out your notepad 

"Are you on the menu?" She flirts 

Your heart skips a beat, your cheeks flush red, you look at her surprised. Daniela giggles as she watches your face. 

"What’s wrong love? Cat got your tongue?" She asks, smiling menacingly 

The only thing you could do was nearly choke on your own spit before Daniela actually tells you what she wants. With haste you make your way back into the kitchen to give the chef Dani's order and catch your breath. 

"One of the best tattoo artists in town, enticed by the awkward café waitress," your coworker laughs 

"Shut it Clarice," you sigh, "We only met last night." 

"She apparently dedicates her life to tattooing," she explains, "No one to get attached to. But, you can change that, I think it's time for you to get out there. With her. Maybe even get a tattoo done by her." 

"Are you crazy?!" You ask, "She's so out there and I'm me. So who am I kidding??" 

"Just look through your cameral roll for some inspiration for a tattoo, I’m sure the two of you can negotiate something in the next couple of weeks," Clarice suggests, "You got your tips, hourly pay you've been saving for this tattoo haven't you?" 

You nod. You only have one tattoo. You've been dreaming about getting another one but you haven't really looked into it. You didn't plan to until you had enough money to have it done. You hear the chef calling out Daniela's order and you begin reaching for it. 

"I'll check on your other tables," your coworker says, "Just book that appointment with Daniela." 

You nod, because your coworker will make sure you do so if she found out you chickened out. 

"Took you long enough," Daniela teases 

You smile as you place the plate of food in front of her and seat yourself across from her once more. 

"Do you have any tattoos?" Daniela asks 

You roll up your left sleeve to reveal an arrow tattoo with a color in one of the three triangles. 

"I got this when I turned 18 with my older sister," you say, "I've been saving up for another tattoo. But I don't think I have saved enough yet nor have I done research on artists to do it on me." 

"Hit me with the design," Daniela suggests

You open your phone to reveal a botanical anatomy piece. 

Daniela looks at your phone in awe, "I'll do it." 

"What?" You ask, putting your phone away 

"I'll do that tattoo on you," she says 

"R-really?" You ask, your mood changing 

She nods happily. You sigh in relief. 

"How much do you normally charge?" You ask 

"For you my dear, I'll discount it," she answers, "Normally, that kind of piece would be $600-$700." 

You, again almost choke on your own spit. However, re-composing yourself. 

"I'll do it for $400," Daniela says 

You've saved up at least $300 as of your last paycheck. However, since the tips are really piling and you look pay is tomorrow, you have hope. 

"When are you free?" She asks 

"I'm pretty much free Mondays and Tuesdays," you say 

Daniela pulls out her phone and supposedly looks through her calendar. 

"How does Tuesday at 3pm sound to you?" She asks 

"Works for me," you smile brightly 

You leave to get Daniela's check and pay for her food. It was the least you could do for her. She practically got to book your dream tattoo. You go on and check on your other tables, running their checks, your coworker bussing the tables for you. 

"Where were we?" You ask 

"My check?" Daniela asks 

"Don't worry about that," you say, "It's the least I can do for you." 

"Thank you y/n," she smiles, "I gotta run. Work is about to open." 

She stands from her seat and walks by you. However, before she leaves she leans down to your face and places a kiss on your cheek and then walks out. You just remembered about her jacket. Damnit...

Tuesday couldn't come soon enough. You've been working your arse off at the café. Daniela would pop in during her breaks to come say hi or order some food to go. You had long sent the image you had shown Daniela on Thursday to her. She’s talked about how excited she is to do that big of a piece. You told her that you had wanted it on your right outer forearm. 

"So you didn't even HAVE to ask Daniela to do that tattoo?! Man, that's golden! She's definitely into you if she had cut down the price by THAT much," your coworker states 

"Is she?" You ask, blushing 

"Oh come on, if I didn't see how she looks at you when you talk to her, I wouldn't be saying that she's definitely into you," she says 

"You have a point," you say 

"Did you get her number?" She asks 

"No," you say, "We've barely had time as is. She heads straight home to work on the piece for me and I'm busy here. Only chance I get is Tuesday." 

"You better girl," she says before walking off to a table

When Tuesday had finally come, you tuck the tattoo fee in one pocket and her tip mixed with your phone number in the other. You take a deep breath before opening the door to the tattoo shop next to your own work. 

"Y/n!" Daniela smiles as she comes walking over to you to give you a hug 

"So I just finished up your tattoo and I just wanted to run through it with you," She says 

"Dani, didn't we both agree on whatever you do is fine with me?" You smile and jokingly sigh 

"Yes but I just want to have your approval anyway," she smiles 

She takes her iPad and opens up to her editing app and shows you. You noticed that Daniela edited the work a lot to her style of work. And you loved it. 

"Lets get that bad boy tattooed on me Dani," you smile 

She has you fill out paperwork as the stencil begins printing itself out. You hand back the paperwork to her and she leads you to the back of the shop, leading you into a separate room, presumably her studio. 

"Welcome to my humble studio," she smiles, "Just sit your little cute butt in the big chair and give me a hot minute." 

You watch her cut out the stencil and watch her concentrate on applying the stencil to your arm. You try to keep yourself as steady as possible so she wouldn't have to reapply the stencil. 

"Relax love," Daniela says, as if she could feel your tension 

"I don't want to accidentally move my arm," you say 

Once she removes the stencil, she backs away, "Check that out and see if you like the placement." 

"I love it," you almost squeal 

You again watch her prep her tattoo machine and begin concentrating on you.

The pain was unbearable but it was a pretty big tattoo that you had picked out. Daniela barely talked though. But, you assumed it was because she was concentrated on your piece. 

“Hey, I have your jacket and-”

“Keep it love,” She says without looking up at you

“Are-are you sure?” You ask

“You look good in it y/n,” She finally looks up at you, smiling

You smile back at her.

Once she removes the excess tattoo ink she guides you to step outside with her for her to take a picture. After the fact, you two go back into her studio to have her put saniderm on your arm. 

"Now keep that on for a couple of days for me okay?" She smiles 

You nod. You reach into one pocket and pull out the $400 Daniela requested for the piece and then reach into the other and hand it to her. 

"Why thank you love," she smiles 

"That's not all," you say 

You lean forward and give her a kiss on the cheek. She somewhat gives you the same face you did when she did the same to you. 

"Will I see you at the café tomorrow?" She asks 

"You will," you wink at her before making your leave 

She opens the piece a paper: a $40 tip and a note. 

"If you want to get together sometime outside of having café food and tattoos," Daniela read aloud 

At the bottom of the note, was your phone number.

[hopeisour4letteredword]

don’t play with your food

Summary: Apollo brings snacks with him to hang out with—to go over case files with Klavier. The snacks are for eating. Eating is what the snacks are for.

According to Apollo, of course. Now if you ask Klavier, on the other hand...

Read it below, or here on AO3.

"You know, there's a game people play with that biscuit."

Apollo, who had been crunching along on a piece of pocky and minding his own business, stops and looks at Klavier suspiciously. Klavier smirks back. They're supposed to be going over old case briefs together, which Apollo has increasingly realized is just their mutual excuse for hanging out. Not that it's not fun to argue about old cases with Klavier, not that it doesn't keep Apollo's critical analysis warmed up between cases, not that he doesn't learn from it, but... well, earlier today he'd thought to himself I should pick up snacks on the way over to Klavier's office. And snacks are usually a hanging-out-with-Clay thought. Not a professional-visit-with-my-colleague thought.

Apollo and Klavier are friends, not just colleagues. This is not news. Apollo—mortifyingly, horrifyingly, to Ema's great disappointment in him—likes Klavier. This is also not news. But there's still some weird tingle of embarrassment he gets every time he realizes how much space he's making for Klavier in his life.

Maybe it's because he can't pin down how Klavier feels in turn. He knows Klavier thinks of them as friends, too. That's not in question. It's just that Apollo thinks he might have to dig a hole through the Earth's crust to throw himself down if he finds out Klavier's flirting is just humoring his pathetic little crush. How's Apollo supposed to know if it's sincere? The guy has a rockstar persona to maintain. And if Klavier isn't the same way with Ema, Apollo kind of figures Klavier knows she would resort to violence if he was this heavy-handed with her.

For instance, he's pretty sure Ema would beat Klavier senseless with the box of pocky if he brought the pocky game up to her.

"I know what the pocky game is," Apollo finally says. He fishes another stick of pocky out of the box. Klavier's smirk grows. "It's a waste of a snack."

"So cynical, Herr Forehead. You don't think it's even a little cute?"

"It's either a game of chicken, which you could do without wasting good food," Apollo says, pointing the pocky at Klavier emphatically, "Or it's a stupid excuse to kiss someone you would have kissed anyway, which you could also do without wasting good food."

Klavier props an elbow on the corner of his desk so he can prop his chin on one hand. "I would have thought someone who bluffs as much as you do would be more tolerant of creative games of chicken."

"Rude," Apollo says. He waves the pocky sternly at Klavier. "They're boring. I always win."

He's too prideful to back down, after all. That's why the bluffing works too. He'll win because he has to win, because he refuses to lose.

"Always?"

Klavier is grinning now. Oh, no. Apollo has made a mistake.

Too prideful to back down, indeed. He jerks his chin up, haughtily, and repeats, "Always."

Klavier slowly, maintaining eye contact, reaches over and plucks the piece of pocky out of Apollo's hand. As Apollo watches, Klavier tucks the tip of the pocky between his own lips. He leans forward in his chair and raises his eyebrows at Apollo again. A challenge.

Fuck. God dammit. Bastard.

Apollo's face burns. He fights to keep a stubborn expression, not as mortified as he feels when he shoves himself up from his chair to step over to Klavier's. Klavier has to sit back, now, with Apollo looming over him while he remains seated. Apollo tosses the rest of the box of pocky to the side on Klavier's desk and braces his hands on the armrests of Klavier's chair, leaning in.

It's just chicken. It's just a game of chicken. Apollo always wins at chicken. This is fine, it's fine, he's fine—

He gets his mouth on the other end of the stick of pocky. Inches away from Klavier's own mouth. Three inches, maybe. Tops.

He is not fine.

But Klavier challenged him. And if there was ever anybody Apollo was not willing to lose a game of chicken to, good grief, it's Klavier. He would be so incredibly annoying about it. He hasn't even won yet and he's already being annoying about it, that cocksure smirk a vivid pink where it wraps around the other end of the pocky.

No. Apollo won't back down. He can do this. He's fine.

But following through will mean—

Apollo inches forward. Klavier's blue eyes are dark in the shadow of his eyelashes, blond and fine though they may be. Is Apollo imagining it, or does his smirk soften, just a bit? That sharp pink curve of his lipstick gentled to something more like a real smile.

The thing is—the thing is. Klavier is also not willing to lose to Apollo. Apollo knows that. It's why they work well together in court. Klavier will not give him a victory he hasn't earned, even if he believes in Apollo's client too, because he knows Apollo can do better than that. Klavier doesn't roll over and let him win. So Klavier isn't going to back down, either. In fact, he nudges his mouth further along the stick of pocky, now, too.

So the thing is: if Apollo isn't going to back down, and he knows Klavier isn't going to back down, what the fuck is he doing agreeing to play if he doesn't want his heart broken?

And the other thing is: if Klavier isn't going to back down, and he knows Apollo isn't going to back down, what the fuck is he doing by challenging Apollo to the pocky game?

There's a single inch, if that, between them now.

This is fine. This is totally fine.

Klavier leans a smidge forward, barely any pocky left separating them, metaphorically placing the last move in Apollo's hands. Finish it or don't. Chicken out or don't. Kiss Klavier or don't.

It's fine, he's fine, he's fine—

Apollo's hands tremble where they grip Klavier's armrests as he pushes the rest of the way forward and his mouth nudges against Klavier's.

Klavier exhales. Not a sigh, but a soundless, steady thing, like settling into place. His mouth is softer than Apollo would have expected. Clay made them both try lipstick in their teens, and Apollo remembers hating how tacky it felt, but whatever Klavier's wearing doesn't feel that way. Just silky smooth. And he smells nice. Apollo mostly ignores his cologne, since it isn't too intrusive from a respectable distance, but it's—it's good.

Kissing Klavier is good.

...This is really weird with pocky still in his mouth.

Apollo bites down. Klavier startles at the soft crunch of it, blinking with confusion when Apollo pulls back to chew and swallow. For a brief instant, his expression flashes hurt—in the next moment, it smoothes over. He swallows his own mouthful of pocky and gives Apollo a new smirk that doesn't reach his eyes. So this isn't a joke to him. This was—this was the second thing Apollo said, this was an excuse to kiss him.

"So much for always—"

"Shut up," Apollo says, and dives in to kiss him again. Klavier makes a sound of pure relief. The hand on Apollo's bicep jerks down to his waist, and the next thing that Apollo knows, he's being dragged sideways into Klavier's lap. Apollo instinctively scrambles to stay stable so he doesn't topple out of the chair. He shouldn't have worried, though. He's not going anywhere with the way Klavier clutches at him. Klavier's other hand tangles into his hair to keep him close, like Apollo would get up and leave now.

They stop to breathe after a minute, foreheads resting against each other. Klavier looks about as dazed as Apollo feels. The gentle smile is a lot better than that shitty fake smirk had been.

After a few beats, Klavier says, "I still won."

"You are so fucking insufferable," Apollo says, ruefully. He can't believe he likes this idiot so much. Klavier laughs with unrestrained delight. "You didn't win. Neither of us backed down."

"You did back down—"

"I did not! I wanted the stupid pocky out of the way. And I'm still right about it being a waste of food, what's wrong with you that you couldn't just say something—"

"I've been flirting with you for months and you weren't picking up on it!" Klavier pouts. He shifts his hand out of Apollo's hair to stroke knuckles over his hot cheek. "Besides, you were cute about it."

Apollo wants to protest that assessment, but he has the sinking feeling that insisting he isn't cute will open a can of worms he isn't emotionally prepared to deal with right now. Instead he says, "If that was your master plan, I definitely won, because you were counting on me not backing down for it to work."

"Maybe so," Klavier says, airily. He pats Apollo's cheek. Apollo can't help but lean into the touch. "Your stubbornness is a sure bet."

"I prefer determination."

"Semantics."

"You don't get to lecture me on semantics, you pretend to be German to look cool."

"That's not sem—mmph." Klavier laughs at him again when Apollo retreats from his haphazard attempt at a kiss, muttering an apology. He'd come in too aggressive and more smushed their faces together than anything else. The hand on Apollo's cheek shifts to cup his jaw. "Here, Schatz, let's try that again."

Loathe though Apollo is to admit it, things are easier when he lets Klavier guide him in. Apollo has tried not to imagine what it would be like to kiss Klavier, but if he was pressed, he would have guessed it was a moment of one of them giving into frustration. Fueled by passion and restless leftover energy from courtroom antics. But this isn't Apollo grabbing fistfuls of Klavier's ridiculous popped collar and shoving him back against the nearest wall. It's too gentle for that. It feels strange to insist that it's chaste, what with Klavier pulling him into his lap, but it is. It's just the soft pressure of lips on lips. Apollo's eyes drift closed as he presses into it.

"Should've brought pocky to the office sooner," Klavier mumbles.

"...Me or you?"

"Either. Both." Klavier steals another kiss. "Or you could've just stopped being so clueless. Where was that incredible perception of body language this whole time?"

Apollo splutters, red-faced again. "It doesn't help with this stuff! Insincere flirting isn't lying!"

"Poor baby," Klavier says, with absolutely zero sincere sympathy. "If only I had been completely blatantly obvious, or something—"

"You could have just asked! What's wrong with just asking?!"

Klavier pulls him snug up against his body with both arms wrapped around Apollo's lower back, and kisses him soundly on the mouth. Apollo growls with frustration and throws his own arms around Klavier's neck. This is more like his reluctant daydreams.

It's a good long while before they pull apart again. Apollo has to rest his forehead against Klavier's and pant for breath. Klavier says, softly for all that he's amused, "Please don't yell like that. I'd rather not inspire my colleagues to come check on us."

"They don't come check on us when I'm yelling about cases," Apollo argues, although the idea of another prosecutor coming to see what the fuss is about only to find him in Klavier's lap does make him want to die a little. Volume modulation is not his strong suit, but he'll give it some extra effort to avoid that.

"Your impassioned yelling about cases sounds less distressed," Klavier says. He squeezes Apollo around the waist. "Are you really so annoyed with me?"

"You are very annoying," Apollo says, as sourly as he can manage with Klavier's breath huffing gently against his mouth. "Don't make fun of me for not being able to tell whether you meant it. You're always like that, how am I supposed to know?"

"Always like that with you, maybe."

"Oh, just shut up!" Apollo slumps again him, face well and truly burning now. Klavier laughs quietly. "That's exactly what I'm talking about."

"I don't know what to tell you," Klavier says. He strokes a hand over Apollo's back. "I really don't know what else I could have done to make myself clear. Fräulein Detective was already irritated with me for being, in her words, 'gross' about it."

"Ema's always irritated with you," Apollo says, half-heartedly. Hell. No wonder Ema has been so exasperated with him about Klavier, if even she thought Klavier was being that obvious. And Apollo's going to have to tell Clay he was right, too. A losing round on all counts, aside from the fact that he gets to kiss Klavier now, apparently. "That doesn't mean anything."

"She's very mean to me, it's true." Klavier steals yet another kiss. "Well, if you want to be asked in plain words so badly, consider this my offering: I like you quite a lot, Herr—"

"Finish that nickname and the answer will be no."

"Herr Justice," Klavier finishes, innocently. Apollo laughs despite himself, curling forward to drop his forehead against Klavier's shoulder. His face still feels hot. He doesn't think it's going to cool off any time soon. "Would you like to get coffee sometime, and perhaps kiss some more?"

"We already get coffee all the time," Apollo says, into Klavier's collar. It's true. They have been on astounding number of coffee not-dates for two people who aren't dating.

"Is that a no?"

"Course not, idiot."

"...Of course not as in—"

Apollo kisses him again to make him stop talking. It works, but only temporarily. As soon as Apollo breaks off, Klavier pouts again and says, "All that whining about me not using my words and you won't even say yes."

"Yes," Apollo says. "Yes, ja, hai, sí. How else do you need me to say it? I let you challenge me to the stupid goddamn pocky game, asshole. Yes, I'll date you."

It turns out Klavier can still be insufferably smug even when he loses. Apollo already knew that, though.

[fruitydiaz-archived]

that's what i want for him

post-eddie begins | eddie meets with his attorney to change his will | a little feelings realization | a little pining | a little buckley-diaz family moment

4,097 words

AO3 link

The day that Eddie has his appointment with his attorney to alter his will, he’s sick with nerves.

He thought he had made peace with his own mortality a long time ago, when he enlisted and found himself pinned down, a world away from his family and bleeding out in the middle of a warzone — but something about the official stature of a will has always made him feel nervous.

He’s still young, and he has no plans to die anytime soon, but who really does? Shannon certainly hadn’t planned on it either. Dealing with grief is hard enough as is, especially when it’s the loss of a parent, and if Eddie can make that experience any more bearable for Chris, then that’s what he’s going to do.

Ever since Shannon died, he’s had his parents down as Christopher’s legal guardians should anything happen to him. It wasn’t a decision he ever felt comfortable with — but he didn’t have anyone else, and he didn’t really have a choice. He had to make sure that Christopher had someone in case things went wrong on a call.

But since the well came down — well, before that actually. Ever since the tsunami, ever since the lawsuit, ever since the skateboard accident — Eddie’s known that he needs to adjust his will, because in none of those situations were Eddie’s parents around to make sure Christopher was okay.

Buck was.

It wasn’t that they didn’t care. They certainly called Eddie after they heard the news about the tsunami. They asked if Christopher was okay (not him, Christopher), and made their usual comments about how Texas would be so much safer for him — they hadn’t had both an earthquake and a tsunami over the last year. They made sure they did their best to let Eddie know that he was making a mistake keeping Chris there, that he was making a mistake not relocating him after he lost his mom, that Chris was going to get seriously hurt one of these days and it would be his fault. They said all of the things he knew they would.

But they weren’t there.

The well was a close call — too close — and in that moment when the mud came down on top of him and the water started to fill his lungs — he realized he couldn’t leave Christopher with them. Not when there was someone else right there, someone who loved Christopher the way he did, someone who would do anything for him, someone who understood him.

He’s still reeling from the accident a bit, as he sits in the office, bouncing his leg up and down and trying hard to tamp down his nerves and failing, as you do after near-death experiences. He keeps having to remind himself that he’s not down there anymore, that there isn’t water all around him, that he can breathe perfectly fine, that he’s on solid ground now.

He has to remind himself that when he fell, Buck and Hen were there to grasp his hands and pull him back up. He’s okay.

“Mr. Diaz?” A voice calls to his left. He looks up to see his attorney in the doorway, standing with her hands clasped in front of her. She smiles at him politely.

She’s a tall, fairly nondescript woman, with soft, quiet features, and thick curly black hair that’s always pulled back into a bun. She always comes dressed in suits but leaves her suit jacket draped over the back of her chair, moving about her office and greeting clients in soft cashmere sweaters.

She always seems to be wearing a smile — but not in an unsettling way. When Shannon was still around, when Eddie was warming up to the idea of welcoming her back into his life, Eddie had made some comment about her having middle school teacher energy — the kind of middle school teacher that still enjoyed working with kids but also took them seriously and didn’t allow any room for bullshit — and Shannon had laughed at him for using the word energy. She said something about Buck rubbing off on him and he rolled his eyes.

It’s just that she reminds him of someone, someone from his past — but he just can’t ever place her. He’s always been bad with faces. But there’s something familiar and grounding about her, something that helped Eddie feel calm when he first met her. But today, she doesn’t calm his nerves.

He feels sick.

He hasn’t seen her since Shannon died.

He stands up and wipes his shaking hands against his jeans, following her into her office.

When Eddie imagined an attorney’s office, when he was a little younger and more naive, he imagined it being small, cramped, with overflowing filing cabinets against one wall and bookshelves filled with boxes of legal documents and binders and books filled with rules and statutes that he could never dream of understanding. He imagined it as something that would make him feel small and cramped — and that the lawyer on the other side of the desk would peer over their tiny wireframe glasses at him and scrutinize every decision he made.

But Stacy’s office is different — it’s calmer, more minimalist. Her walls are a cool white that contrasts against all of the black furniture. The boxes on her shelves are a uniform grey with white labels with little script that’s illegible to Eddie. She even has a little bonsai tree on her desk. It reminds him of a therapist’s office — one that Shannon tried to make him see earlier on in their marriage, between deployments. Sometimes he can appreciate the universe’s weird sense of humor. Today he doesn’t.

He hates having to be here, having to deal with all of the weird legal aspects of living and dying, but he’s doing this for Christopher, so he swallows his nerves.

“I understand you’re wanting to change your will?” Stacy begins, pulling Eddie’s file onto her desk and flipping it open. He nods.

“Yes, I just want to make an adjustment to the legal guardianship — for Christopher,” She nods for him to continue. “After last year, I changed it so my parents would be his legal guardians. I’d like to change it again.”

Stacy smiles softly at him again before pulling something up on her computer. She opens a drawer and retrieves some blank paperwork and sets it on her desk.

“And who will you be changing it to?”

“His name is Evan Buckley. He’s...my friend. Coworker, actually, but...he understands Chris better than they do. Or ever could, really.”

Stacy nods, writing Buck’s name down on the paper before setting the pen down, folding her hands together again, and studying Eddie.

“So, last year when we adjusted your will after your wife passed, I remember your parents being here with us,” She says, and it’s not unkind or pointed in any way, but her words still make Eddie shift in his chair, like he’s done something wrong.

“That’s right,” Eddie says, clearing his throat.

“And Mr. Buckley isn’t here with us today.”

“No,” Eddie says, picking at a loose strand in the hem of his jeans. “He’s working a shift today.”

“I see, are you sure you don’t want him to be present for this? It’s a big decision.”

Eddie blinks at her before shifting his eyes around the room.

“Does he need to be here?”

“No, not at all. We normally encourage both parties to be here, but I’m sure you’ve gotten his consent already, it’s just a formality, really,” Stacy smiles and turns back to her file, picking the pen up again, and opening her mouth to ask another question, when Eddie interrupts her.

“Do I need to have, um, written consent or something to do this? I don’t remember my parents having to sign anything.”

Stacy looks back up at Eddie. For a moment neither of them says anything. She slowly sets her pen back down.

“It’s not required, but it is recommended. This is a big decision, as I’m sure you’re aware. Trusting someone as your child’s legal guardian isn’t something to be taken lightly — especially when they’re not family.”

Eddie frowns — he’s not taking this lightly. It’s all he’s been able to think about for weeks. Every morning when he sits down with Christopher to have breakfast it’s a reminder that he almost lost this. Every time he comes home to Christopher after a long day of work there’s a sense of relief that he’s never felt before — he got to come home again. When he sees the drawings of Shannon that Christopher did that Eddie keeps locked in his nightstand — unable to throw them away, but definitely not keeping them anywhere where Chris could find them again — he remembers how close Chris came to losing another parent.

When he thinks about Chris being uprooted, ripped out of this life they built in California just to be dragged back to Texas, with parents like his who always think they know what’s best but never allow room for adjustments, with parents he knows will stifle him — it’s heartbreaking. He knows this is the right decision.

But Stacy doesn’t give him the opportunity to say all of that, and she continues to press, gently.

“You have had a conversation about this with him?” Eddie shrinks in his chair a bit.

“No, we haven’t — we haven’t talked about it. But, look, you don’t know Buck, okay? This isn’t,” He pauses, waving his hand while he tries to figure out what to say. “A couple of weeks ago, I was in an accident. It was pretty bad, and — I could’ve died. I was drowning and all I could think about was how I couldn’t leave Chris alone. And then, if I did die, how miserable he would be with my parents. I mean, you met them.”

Stacy doesn’t respond.

“Well, I was raised by them, so — I know what they’d be like, and I don’t want that for Christopher. Buck would do anything for Christopher. Already has. He’s...it’s him. I want him to be Christopher’s guardian, you know, if anything ever happens.”

Stacy nods and sits back in her chair.

“Eddie,” She starts, breaking formality. “Listen, I understand. This kind of thing happens more often than you’d think. There’s a kind of clarity that comes to people when they have a close encounter with death. I imagine it was especially clarifying for you, so soon after your wife’s death.”

She sits up again and studies Eddie carefully.

“I just want to make sure that you’re aware — if something happens and you haven’t told Mr. Buckley, he could refuse.”

Eddie shakes his head vehemently.

“No,” He says confidently. He looks at Stacy again, dead in the eye so that she knows he’s serious. “He wouldn’t do that. Believe me.”

“And if your family tries to fight it?” Eddie looks away then, and his eyes get a little distant. He smiles a small, private smile, before looking back at Stacy.

“They won’t ever fight as hard as him. Trust me.”

Stacy holds his gaze for a moment.

You learn a lot about people when you’re in her line of work — people come in all of the time and show her their hands, inadvertently pouring their hearts out, and revealing everything that’s most important to them as they sort out their estates. She’s seen plenty of people make weird, terrible, stupid, and callous decisions in the event of their death. She’s seen plenty of people come in after a close call and make hasty, half-baked decisions that she doesn’t have the power to counsel them against.

But, with her admittedly limited understanding of who Eddie Diaz is as a person, he’s not the kind of person who makes hasty, half-baked decisions, especially not when it comes to what he loves most — Christopher. They’ve only seen each other a few times: when Eddie first moved to LA and was altering his will, and when Shannon died. She’s seen him worn, tired, dragged down by grief. From what she sees, he’s a man who’s burdened by the need to do what's right for everyone else around him.

When he came in with his parents the year before, he had seemed small, and it had struck her. She remembered him from their first meeting as an army man with strong shoulders and a jaw set with stubborn determination — but then he just seemed like a child.

The man in front of her now is somewhere in between, softened by the home he’s clearly made for him and his son here. He’s still worn, a little shaken after his incident, still clearly grieving the loss of his wife, but the look in his eyes is strong and sure.

And as much as she would prefer that Mr. Buckley, or Buck, as Eddie keeps calling him, were here, she can clearly tell the difference in how Eddie feels about him versus his parents by the way he talks. He didn’t say much when his parents were in her office, just nodded along to what they said and made quiet, reserved comments to affirm their decisions. At the time, she wasn’t sure if it was the grief or their presence that was making him small — but she gets it now. Buck clearly understands Eddie in a way that few people have before.

She just hopes that Eddie talks to him about it soon — because the man does seem to be a kind of magnet for life-threatening situations, and she would really prefer not to have to break the news to a surprised, grief-stricken Evan Buckley herself. That’s her least favorite part of the job.

But she doesn’t press any further — Eddie’s made his case and Stacy’s certain she won’t be able to convince him to hold off any longer to at least talk to Buck, and they finish sorting out the paperwork.

Stacy sends Eddie off with the promise to get in touch with him when the changes to his will are finalized, and a gentle suggestion to talk with Buck soon.

He’s out the door feeling a dozen pounds lighter.

Eddie considers telling Buck after that, he really does. He understands that it’s probably something he should hear about sooner rather than later. But something holds him back, something makes him want to keep those cards close to his chest, and he’s not sure why.

He doesn’t tell anyone, not for a while. He really should tell his parents — and he will, eventually — but he’s not really looking forward to that particular conversation. He can already hear their arguments in his head, how Buck is in just as dangerous a profession as he is, how Buck is a stranger — not family, how he’s barely known this man for two years when they’ve known him his whole life — that one will make him laugh, he’s sure.

The first person he tells ends up being Carla.

It’s a few weeks later and he’s chatting with her on the phone, chopping up vegetables in the kitchen, helping prep dinner while Chris and Buck are playing games in the living room.

He’s been thinking about broaching the topic all night, now that he’s gotten a chance to be alone with Buck, but he feels a little anxious at the idea — even though he knows Buck won’t refuse. It just feels like a big thing that they probably won’t ever have to deal with — it’s not like he plans on dying.

But the idea is fresh in his mind, so it shouldn’t be that surprising when Carla asks him what’s new and he responds, “I changed my will.”

She doesn’t say anything for a second, and Eddie glances down at his phone to make sure the call didn’t get disconnected on accident.

“Oh?” Carla asks, clearly surprised. “What made you change it?”

“The well,” Eddie says, sliding some chopped carrots off the cutting board and into a bowl. He hears Carla hum in acknowledgment, then smiles as he hears Buck shout from the living room. Chris beat him, again. He’s alive, he’s okay.

“What exactly did you change?”

“Christopher’s legal guardianship...you know, if anything like that happens again and, uh, I don’t make it,” He tries to say this casually, but his throat starts to close up again at the end. He coughs.

“Who’d you change it to?” Carla asks, her voice soft. Eddie pauses, then steps away from the counter, peeking around the corner to check on Buck and Chris. The volume of their game is loud — too loud, really — but they’re engrossed in it, and Eddie’s comfortable with the thought that they can’t overhear his conversation. He walks back to his phone.

“Buck,” He admits quietly.

“Did you talk to him about this?” Carla asks, eventually, and it strikes Eddie how well she knows him. She doesn’t even sound surprised that he made Buck Christopher’s legal guardian.

When he doesn’t respond, he hears Carla sigh.

“Eddie, this is the kind of thing you should talk to him about. If something happens and he suddenly finds out from your lawyer—“

“He’s not gonna refuse,” Eddie says confidently.

“No, and I didn’t say that he would. It would just be fair to him to tell him before, God forbid, something happens to you and he has to hear it from a stranger instead of his best friend.”

“I’m not planning on dying any time soon, Carla,” Eddie says, and he wants to feel confident as he says it, wants it to come off light-hearted and joking, but he’s still terrified and his voice betrays him.

“I know you’re not, honey,” Carla says sympathetically. “But we both know that anything can happen to any one of us, any day. I know I don’t need to remind you of that.”

Eddie nods, even though Carla can’t see him, and continues chopping vegetables.

“It’s just,” Eddie pauses, working out his words. “I don’t — should I tell Christopher? Maybe he should know first.”

“How did you do it when you changed it with your parents last year?” Eddie shrugs.

“Wasn’t really my decision. They were here, they decided it should be them, they told Christopher, we went to my attorney and made it happen. This time...this time it was my choice. And I don’t really know what to do here.”

He lets out a shaky laugh and finds himself, surprisingly, wishing Shannon was here.

It’s one of those things that happens after you lose someone you love — you forget all of the bad parts of your relationship and start to miss the good. He wishes she was here right now, chopping vegetables, teasing him for being useless in the kitchen. He wishes he wasn’t having this conversation right now. He wishes he didn’t feel so old, so marked by death.

He hears Christopher’s victory shout from the living room again, and his heart races to latch onto it. As long as he has his kid, everything’s okay. He wouldn’t take anything back — not for this. Christopher’s happy now.

Then he hears Buck laughing good-naturedly, hears him lowering the volume, and then listens as Chris tries to wheedle another round out of him.

“Come on, buddy, it’s time for me to start dinner. I gotta make sure your dad doesn’t burn any of our dinner in there, or accidentally chop a finger off cutting vegetables. Let’s go get you washed up and then we can help him out, okay?”

Eddie doesn’t hear Christopher’s response, he imagines it was something like a groan and a not-so-subtle eye roll, but he registers the sound of the TV cutting off and Buck’s weight lifting up off the couch. A couple of seconds later and there’s the sound of running water in the bathroom down the hall, and Christopher giggling over the noise.

Everything’s okay.

“Look, Carla, I’m sorry to cut this short but — Buck’s here and he’s about to come help me out in the kitchen, so, I gotta—“

“Just breathe, Eddie. You’ll figure it out, okay? Just make sure you tell him soon.” Eddie hums, noncommittal, and he’s pretty sure he can hear the way Carla shakes her head fondly. “And give that boy a kiss for me, will you?”

“Christopher or Buck?” Eddie jokes before he can stop himself. He freezes, knife hovering mid chop. He hears the water in the bathroom shut off and starts to panic, for some reason he can’t explain. That’s a normal joke to make about your friend, right? Carla would totally kiss him if she was here.

“Whichever one you want,” Carla says after a while, quiet and knowing.

“Hey, is that Carla?” Buck asks as he enters the kitchen.

“Great, thanks Carla, bye,” Eddie rushes, flustered and scrambling to end the call. He turns back around to face Buck, who’s looking at him quizzically.

“I was just gonna say hi?” He says, tilting his head to the side. “Hey, are you okay?”

“Great,” Eddie says, unconvincingly. Buck raises an eyebrow. “Um, fine, just — not sure...how many...potatoes you need me to chop?”

Buck doesn’t take his eyes off Eddie. He studies him, eyes flicking over his face, mentally running through his memory to see if Eddie’s been off lately. And, well, he has — he almost died a couple of weeks ago.

Eddie’s caginess isn’t hard to read — but Buck’s gotten pretty good at knowing when’s the right time to push and when’s the right time to sit back and wait, let Eddie come to him. As much as he doesn’t like it, this is a sit back and wait kind of situation.

He regards Eddie one last time before stepping up to the counter next to him, his hand hovering behind Eddie’s back. Eddie really wants to know why that makes him nervous all of a sudden. They’re close to each other all the time, practically touching each other constantly, but right now proximity to Buck is making it hard to breathe. Buck’s only got a couple of inches on him but it feels like he’s towering over him. It’s making him a little dizzy.

“I’m pretty sure this is enough,” Buck says, sliding away from Eddie and pulling a tray out of the cabinet by the stove, blissfully unaware of the way Eddie’s heart is racing in his chest. “I told Christopher he could help so I figured he could season the vegetables? I’ll measure the spices out for him so we don’t end up eating pure salt like we did last time.”

He sends Eddie a wink as he says that and then turns around, pulling spices out of Eddie’s cabinets and grabbing these tiny bowls that Eddie didn’t even know he had. He’s stunned, watching Buck move around the kitchen with ease, like this isn’t the hundredth time Buck has been over to cook them dinner.

It feels a little like he stepped into some alternate reality, like everything is exactly as it should be but something’s just slightly off. Something’s shifted, but he’s not sure what.

When Christopher comes in moments later, Buck gets him set up at the table easily, letting him sit himself and setting his crutches to the side, placing the tray down in front of him with all of the spices in reach, and pointing out what each of them are and explaining how they flavor the food.

He drizzles the oil over the vegetables and then lets Chris go for it, dumping the bowls over the tray and then getting in there with him, using their hands to coat them all evenly. And that, of course, is Christopher’s favorite part. While Eddie’s still processing, the kitchen’s filled with the sounds of Christopher laughing and Buck laughing along with him, encouraging the way he tosses each vegetable around to cover it in spices.

Eddie stands at the counter, still stunned, but warm all over. This is the kind of thing that keeps him going, the kind of thing that keeps him fighting when things get hard. It’s the kind of thing that Eddie will tuck inside his heart as a precious memory that will come back to him in the future whenever things inevitably get dark again.

He doesn’t want to tell Buck about the guardianship yet. He’ll tell Christopher first, and then his parents, and then, whenever the moment’s right, then he’ll tell Buck.

He’s not in any kind of rush. Things are perfect right now, and he just wants to enjoy that for a little bit longer.

[iceeckos12]

Prompt: Jongerrymartin but make it noir.

HI PIT. this was probably not what you were expecting, but hope you enjoy *jazz hands* this is current jongerry, pre-jgm

please let me know if i should tag anything!

Martin stared up at the faded gold lettering painted on the door, wiping a clammy palm against the fabric of his trousers. The other gripped his manila folder tightly, refusing to loosen his grip for even a second, not after all the trouble he’d gone through to get it.

Delano & Sims, the words read. Private Detectives.

He’d talked to one of them over the phone yesterday, a man with an achingly posh accent, who’d said to come at precisely fourteen hundred hours and not a moment later. That clipped, dry tone had almost been enough to scare him off, but...no, he needed this too much to run away.

Martin took a deep breath, and knocked.

“Come in,” a voice called, and he pushed inside.

The first thing he noticed were the swirls of cigarette smoke so thick that the weak light overhead glowed a thin silver. His eyes immediately began to water at the intensity of the smell, and he desperately wanted to bury his nose in his collar.

There was an exasperated sigh from one shrouded corner of the room, and then, “Christ—Jon, open the window, would you?”

“Oh, right, sorry,” There was a clatter as the blinds lifted, and then a solid thunk, and suddenly fresh air and natural light was pouring through the open window, throwing the room in stark relief.

“Sorry about that,” the man next to the window said, leaning heavily on a handsome wooden cane. He was just a wisp of a thing, dressed in a sweater vest like he was some sort of professional academic, with salt and pepper grey hair and dark, keen eyes. “Forgot we had someone coming.”

This must be the person I talked to over the phone, Martin realized. Sims.

“Do me a favor and try not to kill our clients, Jon.” He quickly turned to look at Delano—who else could it be?—who was stepping away from the fan now juddering to life, swirling the quickly dissipating smoke. It was almost startling how different the two partners were; where Sims was thin and short, Delano was tall and wiry, with inky black hair and cool, gunmetal eyes. The weathered leather trench coat and chunky boots had obviously seen some better days.  “We need all the ones we can get.”

Martin’s face flushed as he was struck by how unfairly attractive these two people were.

“Duly noted,” Sims drawled, limping over to the heavy desk stacked high with papers. He set the cane aside and propped himself against it with a quiet sigh, then gestured toward one of the ratty looking chairs. “Take a seat, Mr. Blackwood.”

Martin shifted uncomfortably. “Oh, I don’t…”

“No need to stand on decorum, not around here.” Delano pointedly plopped into the chair behind the desk, grin wide and toothy. “Jon just likes to pretend that we’re more professional than we actually are.”

“We’re professional,” Sims protested, sounding deeply offended. “Just...unorthodox.”

“Well, alright,” Martin said, and lowered into the surprisingly comfortable chair.

Delano cleared his throat. “Right. So what brings you to us, Mr. Blackwood?”

Martin thought for a moment, not wanting to speak rashly, or to give away anything too personal. “Well, I’ve heard rumors that you two are capable of...discretion, so to speak, and I would prefer that this doesn’t get spread around.”

“Ah.” Sims’ eyes quickly flicked up and down his body, one eyebrow raising. “Out of curiosity, can I ask who referred you to us?”

“Tim Stoker?” Martin shuffled. “He said that you helped him out of a similar bind not too long ago.”

Sims and Delano glanced at each other, their eyebrows doing a complicated little dance, though what information could’ve been conveyed through such a medium, Martin had no clue. They turned to look at him again in unison, expressions very serious.

“When you say similar…” Delano trailed off.

Martin immediately shook his head. “Oh, nothing to do with the Circus. I’m not stupid enough to get involved with them after what happened with Tim and his brother.”

They both relaxed immediately.

“That’s good for you,” Delano told him. “We’ve run afoul of Nikola and her merry band far too many times for comfort. If you’d said you’d gotten on her bad side, I’m afraid we would’ve had to ask you to leave.”

Martin glanced at Sims, who was staring very hard at his feet, then Delano, who was observing him calmly, patiently, the way a bird of prey sights down a mouse. “Oh.”

“Quite,” Sims murmured.

“Anyway,” Delano gave a wide, grandiose gesture. “Please. Why have you come to us?”

The manila folder suddenly felt very, very heavy, and he fiddled with one of the corners, rubbing the material between his fingers. “Well...I work for this, um, this shipping company. I mostly do busywork, administrative tasks, that sort of thing. It’s not very glamorous, but it—it pays really well, despite the company being kind of small.” Martin traced the grain of the paper with one finger. “I think it handles a lot of….specialty items.”

“And the name of this company?” Sims asked, pen poised over the little notebook he’d appeared from seemingly nowhere.

Anxiety plummeted his stomach into his toes. “I’m sorry, but I don’t feel comfortable giving away that information.”

Delano’s eyebrows rose. “Discretion, remember? Besides, we’ll need to know if we’re going to be able to help you.”

“If we decide to help you,” Sims muttered.

Martin took a few fortifying breaths, swallowing the nausea down. “Right,” he murmured. “Right. It’s, um...Tundra shipping company? Run by Mr. Peter Lukas.”

Sims went very, very still, pen poised above his notebook, expression fixed like it’d been molded into his face. Delano loomed forward, the gunmetal of his eyes gleaming like the sun reflecting off of a loaded barrel. “Is that so?”

Martin glanced toward Sims, wondering at his demeanor, then turned back to Delano and nodded. “Yeah. You two—you know him?”

“Do we.” Delano let out a dry chuckle. “Continue.”

“Right.” Martin shook his head. “Well, one day I was doing some bookkeeping, just...routine stuff, you know? But I noticed something off with the numbers, like...really wrong. And I double checked my math several times just to make sure, but…” he swallowed. “I think that someone may be cooking the books, or...or something. I don’t know.

“Anyway, I went back the next day but the numbers had been changed, and—and Mr. Lukas called me into his office and said some really weird stuff that I think may have been a threat? It was hard to tell.” Martin shook his head, biting his lip. “There’s been other stuff, too. Contracts with companies that I know don’t exist, visitors at odd hours. I think something really rotten is going on, but I don’t think that I can handle it myself.”

Delano and Sims shared an unhappy look. Then Sims pushed away from the desk and began to circle the perimeter of the room, his eyebrows furrowing into a thunderstorm on his brow.

“We’d love to finally be able to pin something substantial on the bastard—on Lukas,” Delano said. “But insinuating those types of claims without a shred of evidence...that’s a nonstarter. We’re going to need a little bit more than that.”

“But I do have evidence?” Martin asked, lifting the manila folder. “I took photocopies of the pages, and notated where the discrepancies were.” He wrinkled his nose. “I wasn’t about to just write on official financial records. There’s also some of the weird contracts I was talking about. I kept copies of everything.”

Sims, who’d walked out of sight while Martin had been talking, suddenly appeared behind him, reaching for the folder. “Can I see?”

“Be careful with it, that’s the only copy,” Martin said nervously, but handed it over.

Sims walked back over to the desk, hopped up on the edge, and eagerly tipped the contents of the folder on the space between him and Delano. They quickly sifted through the papers, wordlessly handing things to each other like a seamless, well-oiled machine.

“This is good.” Delano’s voice was almost hushed, almost awed. “This is...really good, actually.”

“But you see why I can’t go to the police with this, right?” Martin twisted his hands fitfully. “You see why I need your help.”

“Of course not,” Sims said dismissively, though there was an eager gleam in his eyes. “The police are so deep in Lukas’ pocket you might as well have kissed your life goodbye if you’d gone to them.”

“Oh.” Martin swallowed, trying and failing to come up with anything more intelligent than that. “Oh.”

Delano drummed his fingers against the desk pensively. “Speaking of, it wouldn’t be a good idea to pursue this recklessly. We appreciate you bringing this to us, but it does put you in a significant amount of danger. Do you have friends or family outside the country you can stay with, Mr. Blackwood?”

“Um…” He had cousins in Poland, he was pretty sure. Whether or not they would take him in was another question entirely. “Possibly.”

Sims reluctantly gathered the papers up and slid them back into the manila folder, before holding it out. “Come back when you’ve got something lined up.”

Martin lifted a quelling hand as he got to his feet. “I’d...prefer you hold onto it, honestly. It’s probably safer with you.”

Sims blinked, then shrugged and set the folder back down. “I see.”

“We’ll be seeing you later, Mr. Blackwood.” Delano’s grin was a sharp, toothy thing. Despite its grimness, Martin found himself inexplicably comforted by it.

“Please,” he corrected before he could help himself. “Call me Martin.”

-0-

“So,” Gerry said, long after Martin had left and the excitement had faded. He filled a glass with some ice, then tipped a finger of whisky over the top. “What do you think?”

“I don’t trust him,” Jon said almost before Gerry had finished talking, accepting the glass with a quiet murmur of thanks. “It’s a bit too good to be true. After years of searching, someone just...emerges with hard evidence of Peter’s wrongdoings?” An incredulous snort. “I don’t think so.”

Gerry propped himself up against the edge of the desk, staring at the dark bags under his partner’s eyes, the cynical curve of his mouth. He looked exhausted. “You never know,” he said mildly, taking a sip of his whiskey sour before continuing. “I think we’re about due for a lucky break.”

“We don’t get lucky breaks. We get fooled into thinking that we have a lucky break, only to get royally fucked later,” Jon snapped, thumping his cane against the ground for emphasis. “You should know that by now.”

Gerry frowned. “Don’t take this out on me.”

Jon metaphorical hackles went up, and for a moment it looked as though he were about to start shouting—but then he abruptly deflated and looked away. “No, you’re right, it’s just…”

Gerry sighed. It was difficult to stay angry at Jon when he bore such a striking resemblance to a kicked puppy. “I get it.”

They fell silent for a moment, sipping their drinks, lost in their respective thoughts.

“Shall we go?” Gerry asked, setting his glass aside.

Jon paused for a moment longer, before letting out a long, gusty sigh and draining what was left in his drink. “Sure.”

The elevator was still broken, so unfortunately they had to take the stairs. While Gerry knew better than to offer any assistance, his heart still clenched at how tight with pain Jon’s jaw had gone by the time they reached the bottom. They stopped for a few seconds to let Jon get his breath back, before continuing toward home.

About a block away from the office, they froze at the sound of pounding footsteps growing unmistakably closer.

“Hear that?” Jon murmured out of the corner of his mouth, the dying light of the sun glinting off the switchblade in his free hand.

“Mmhm,” Gerry hummed, slipping a hand into his pocket.

Martin was very, very lucky that Gerry recognized him as he rounded the corner; otherwise, it was very likely that Jon would’ve run him through. As it was, Martin crashed into them both, gasping frantically for air, cheeks flushed, eyes wide with abject terror.

“Martin?” Jon demanded, shoving the switchblade away. “What the hell are you—”

“They’re after me,” Martin gasped out, scrabbling at Gerry’s coat. “They—I don’t know how they found out, but they, Peter, he—”

“Shit,” Gerry muttered, suddenly becoming aware of the second set of pounding footsteps growing nearer. He took a moment to assess their surroundings, before grabbing Martin’s shoulders and hauling him into the nearby alley. “Martin, hide behind that dumpster. Jon, distraction time.”

Despite the situation, Jon’s eyes lit up with an exhilarated gleam. Gerry had just enough time to fondly think, adrenaline junkie, before Jon tucked his cane over his wrist, twisted his hands in Gerry’s lapels, and shoved him against the wall for a bruising kiss.

Gerry gasped into Jon’s mouth, his hands instinctively falling to cup Jon’s slim hips. He deepened the kiss, humming encouragingly when Jon shoved his jacket over his shoulders, exposing the thin black t-shirt beneath.

Jon was just beginning to press little kisses down the juncture of his jaw and neck when the harsh beam of a torch fell on them. Jon, who’d been a drama queen long before he’d joined am dram in uni, pulled away with a theatrical gasp, his annoyance almost startlingly genuine. Gerry tucked his face out of the way and adjusted his jacket, affecting embarrassment.

“Do you mind?” Jon asked.

“Oh,” the person on the other end of the torch said, sounding distinctly uncomfortable. Gerry tried to peek a look, but the beam was too strong for him to see into the darkness beyond it. “Sorry to disturb you sirs, um...you wouldn’t happen to have seen a person—?”

“No, we haven’t seen a person.” Keeping one hand curled in Gerry’s jacket, Jon took a step back, lifting his chin defiantly. “Now if you’ll excuse us, we were busy.”

“Right,” the person muttered, and then the torchlight abruptly vanished, dropping them once more into the dying light of the sun.

They stood there for a moment, Jon breathing hard, cheeks flushed. Gerry tipped his head back against the wall, letting his eyes flutter shut as his pumping heart slowed.

Then the grip in his collar loosened, and Jon let out a pained groan and sank against the wall. “Fuck.”

“Alright, take it easy,” Gerry murmured. He pressed a kiss against Jon’s hair and rubbed a soothing hand against his back. “You did beautifully.” Then louder, “Martin, you can come out now.”

There was a brief pause, and then a shadow tentatively emerged from behind the dumpster. Martin looked far less rattled than he had when he’d first run around the corner, though there was still a healthy flush to his cheeks. He peered up the alley, wringing his hands. “Are they…”

“For now,” Jon said, grimacing as he dug his knuckles into the tight muscles. “We should leave before they get back.”

Martin’s eyes honed in on him. “Will you be okay?”

“I’ll be fine,” Jon snapped, straightening. “You should be more worried about yourself. You can’t go home, right?”

The question seemed to remind Martin of the current situation, because his eyes went a little wild again. “No, they...I left to do a bit of shopping, and then came back and, and there they were.”

They fell silent for a moment, considering that.

“Well, there’s nothing for it,” Jon said brusquely. “You’ll have to come home with us.”

“What?” Martin gaped.

Gerry was already nodding. “We don’t have much room, but we can make up the couch for you.”

That only seemed to make Martin all the more aghast. “Wait! Wait, won’t that put you in danger?”

Gerry looked up and met Jon’s gaze.

“We have...a certain degree of protection,” Gerry hazarded delicately. “It won’t do much against the likes of Peter himself, but lesser threats…”

“You’ll be fine,” Jon completed. “Now unless you want to run into them again, we had better get going.”

Martin glanced mutely between them, looking like he wanted nothing more than to argue. Then his shoulders slumped, probably realizing that he had no other choice considering how dire the situation was.

“Alright,” he murmured, defeated. “Let’s go.”

[watermelonlipstick]

Nerves (Request)

This was my first request, and it was fun to write! Anon wanted a reader around Sam’s age whose nerves Dean mistakes for fear until he confronts her about them. Thanks for reading, and of course I would love any advice or critiques!! If you have a request, drop it in my inbox and I’ll definitely write it if I feel like I can do it justice. Just a little bit of weekend fluff. 

Title: Nerves

Pairing: Dean X Reader

Word Count: 2715

Summary: When helping Sam’s college friend, the reader, Dean can’t figure out why she’s so scared of him. 

gif from forgetthisbull

“Dude, Dean, I’m serious. Don’t be a fucking creep to her,” Sam said, shutting the door to the Impala and following his brother into a greasy spoon called Little Bavaria with white scalloped curtains.  

“Dude, Dean, I’m serious,” Dean mimicked in a nasal sing-song. “And when am I ever a creep?”

Sam glared at Dean in exasperation. “Please? Just please? Can I have one friend you don’t hit on?”

“Fine! Drop it!” Dean snapped, yanking open the door and pulling his face immediately into a saccharine smile for the rosy-cheeked grandma-type standing behind a cash register that could not have been made after 1983.

“Thank you,” Sam said, obviously relieved. He scanned the room before seeing her sitting in a back booth.

You waved excitedly to Sam as he walked toward you, looking like a sun-kissed and confident man rather than the floppy haired boy you remembered.

As the brothers made their way over to you, a waitress dropped off plasticized menus and glasses of water. Sam waited for you to stand up before wrapping you in a bear hug. He smelled clean and familiar in a way that made you feel slightly lighter immediately.

“I like the new hair, it looks good on you,” he said, charming as ever.

You reflexively touched your head. “Oh! Right, I forgot that was after college. You look great!”

Sam’s smile was easy and wide as he turned to Dean. “This is my brother Dean.”

Dean raised a few fingers in a weak wave, decidedly not giving you anything Sam could construe as bedroom eyes or a flirtatious smirk. “Nice to meet you. Sorry it isn’t under better circumstances.”

“Yeah, well,” you trailed off.

“Should we sit?” Sam asked, graciously offering you an out.

After the requisite coffees and Dutch babies were ordered, Sam looked across the table angelically. “I’m really sorry this is happening,” he said, his voice smooth and soothing.  It was all Dean could do not to roll his eyes, one arm slung across the booth behind Sam as he slouched back. He tried for the appearance of nonplussed neutrality. “If it’s okay with you, I think you should stick around us until we figure this out. I don’t want to leave you alone in that house,” Sam urged.

You kept the relief off your face better than you’d expected you would. You were trying to play it cool in front of Sam and his hopelessly cute older brother, but you were scared enough of going back your new house that you just repeated what they ordered, unable to focus even on the menu. As you had been doing for the last day and a half since you called, you thanked God for the small instinct to call Sam. Sam, who you hadn’t seen in a few years but was the least judgmental person you’d known in school. Somehow you knew even if he thought you were crazy he would come anyway. Now he was here, bigger and looser than you’d remembered, not making fun of or pitying the girl who thought her house was haunted, and you felt like you could take a deep breath for the first time in weeks. In a weaker moment you might’ve cried, and for that reason it was better that Sam had brought his brother. It might not have been so embarrassing to break down with an old friend, but you couldn’t ugly-cry in front of the Rebel Without A Cause at the table, all pillowy lips and long eyelashes. Distractedly you tried to remember if Dean looked this good in the two or three pictures Sam had scotch-taped to his dorm wall but couldn’t call them up. You channeled all the chill-girl energy you could muster and shrugged. “If you think that’s better, I can.”

“I do, yeah. It’s just that we don’t know what’s going on yet,” Sam offered. “If you need to get some stuff from your place, we can come with you. Right, Dean?”

“Sure,” Dean said, his tone clipped and his lips pressed tight. “Whatever Sammy wants.”

You heard a thump under the table and Dean smiled slightly more reassuringly.

Over breakfast Sam had about a hundred questions about everything you’d been up to lately. He seemed genuinely interested as you told him about the new job you’d moved here for, wanting to know more about the goofy drama between your coworkers and odd clients as though it was fascinating. You’d forgotten how much you desperately missed him until you saw the crinkles at the corners of his eyes and heard his laugh twinkle out over the coffee steam and powdered sugar. All the while, Dean seemed to be boring into you with those green eyes, sometimes adding a meaningless trite comment or chuckle but not genuinely engaging. You tried only partly successfully to ignore him, focusing on Sam and your food and how nice it was to feel safe.

3 cups of weak coffee after you’d finished eating, knowing you’d be jittery but not caring from the giddiness of the reunion, Dean took out his wallet and threw about double what you’d guessed the tab might be down in cash. “Should we go get your stuff?” he asked.

“Uh, yeah, sure,” you answered, taking one last sip before getting up from the table. A look you couldn’t decipher passed between Sam and Dean so quickly that you would’ve missed it if you hadn’t been staring right at them. You followed the boys out of the restaurant, feeling a very odd and fleeting moment of jealousy when Dean thanked and winked at the older woman behind the cash register, giving her a slow languid smile like warm honey. He was so pretty. As quickly as the thought had come over you, it was replaced with disgust at yourself. At a time like this, when your whole world was in chaos, you were worried about some hot guy—who clearly wasn’t into you from the way he was acting—instead of your own safety. You were still cursing yourself mentally when you slid into the back of the gigantic black car they’d arrived in.

Sam’s friend was cute. Like, really cute. Beautiful, even, and Dean was beyond annoyed that this was the one time he promised Sam he wouldn’t hit on one of his friends. Not that it seemed to matter, because she only had eyes for Sam. It was like she melted when she saw him, staring only straight at his kid brother all through the time they stayed at the breakfast spot. If Dean was being honest with himself, he was more than a little hurt, not used to being looked at with anything less than adoration by the women he wanted. What added even more salt to the wound than the way she seemed so infatuated with Sam was the way that she looked when she saw Dean. Dean peddled in monsters and the looks of attractive women, and he knew fear when he saw it. He’d spent the rest of breakfast with Sam’s comment about him being a creep running through his mind on a loop, careful not to lean too close into her or say anything less than strictly G-rated. Unfortunately, that limited him more severely than he realized it would.

When she got into the back of the Impala, she sat straight up like she was in a cotillion class, not comfortable enough even to sit normally in his car. Was Sam right? Was he a creep? Dean suddenly felt weird and predatory, like maybe the blood and guts of hunting was changing him in some irreparable way that people could sense. He tried to smile agreeably the way Sam did up at her in the rearview mirror and saw a shark reflected back at him. Looking quickly away, Dean put both hands on the wheel the way he thought someone non-threatening would.

It didn’t help that Sam thought something was off, which meant Dean wasn’t pulling off his act and maybe couldn’t even pretend like he wasn’t the kind of person who makes a beautiful girl’s eyes go wide in fear. Each time Sam had side-eyed or kicked him under the table, the point was re-emphasized. Dean was desperate to relax but worried he’d freak this poor girl out somehow, so he kept himself tightly wound as he took directions to her house.

By the time they’d finally figured out the problem—not, as you thought, that your house was haunted but that a coworker was in fact a witch trying to torment you—the three of you had gotten into a semi-comfortable rhythm. You were crashing on the couch in their motel room, carrying your toiletries into and out of the bathroom every morning like you were at sleepaway camp and trying to keep your clothes as wrinkle-free as possible while living out of a suitcase. Some parts of it were so nice; you were still just as grateful for the protection you felt as you had been in that café, and you had forgotten how comforting it was just to know there was someone else around. Other parts, however, were not. You hadn’t slept on a couch, let alone a scratchy-creaky motel one, for so many days since college, and you were remembering why. On top of that, Dean was so compelling that it felt like you expended half of your energy each day just trying to keep yourself from staring at him.

And naturally, the more you got to know him the harder it got. He was not only the pretty boy that was obvious from the first time you met, but also so kind and respectful, seeming to be very aware of the potential discomfort of immediately sleeping in the same room as a strange man and giving you a wide berth for as much privacy as possible. He even picked up coffee in the mornings before you and Sam got up, that first day getting a black coffee, a nonfat latte, and ‘whatever the coffee guy said was most popular’ because he didn’t know what you’d like. If anything, it felt almost as though he was being a bit too gentle, and you wondered if Sam had told Dean you were some kind of fragile and delicate bird that startled easily. When you’d asked Sam about it after a couple days, he just shrugged and said he hadn’t really told Dean much other than some stories from college. You decided to drop it. Maybe Dean was just like this, which made it all the harder not to develop the kind of crippling, blushing, oh-my-god-is-he-going-to-sit-next-to-me crush you hadn’t felt since middle school.

When the coworker had been ‘taken care of’—a careful answer from Dean that you chose not to pursue—you were left feeling unmoored. It wasn’t like you could go back to the now-destroyed house, or even imagine how you’d explain away the chaos of the last couple weeks to the few people you knew here. Sam seemed to pick up on it intuitively, and offered for you to come along with him and his brother until you figured out what you were going to do next. Like it had when he had driven across the country and tossed you the last life raft over the formica table at Little Bavaria, it felt like Sam was saving you. He seemed excited when you said you would, and was out grabbing sandwiches for the road while you and Dean packed up the motel room when Dean asked if he could borrow you for a minute.

You were so embarrassed at the small, cartoonish voice that agreed, sitting on the side of the bed while Dean draped himself effortlessly—God, how could he look so cool even just sitting down—over the arm of the sofa.

“I, uh, if you’re going to come on the road with us I think we should talk,” he started. Your pulse started thumping in your chest and you hoped you weren’t blushing as you raised your eyebrows, signaling for him to continue. Dean cleared his throat and fiddled with his ring before continuing. “Listen, I don’t know how much Sam told you before we met, or whatever, but I swear I’m really not that bad.”

You’d been focusing so hard on not looking desperately infatuated that you weren’t able to keep the surprise off your face. “Bad? Of course not, you’ve been amazing. You and Sam saved my life. I’m so grateful,” you sputtered.

“Right,” Dean said, looking slightly confused. “Then I’m sorry if I did something maybe, because I don’t want you to think I’m some, like, animal—”

You cut him off. “Dean, you’ve been unbelievably sweet, way above and beyond what you needed to do. I’ve felt so safe the entire time I’ve been with you guys, and now you’re letting me stay with you for even longer; I don’t know how I can repay you, seriously.”

Dean looked up at you, his confusion tinged around the edges of his eyes with something wounded. “Then why are you so scared of me? You jump whenever I come in the room, you only look at Sam, you don’t even slouch when I’m around. I know I can’t do Sam’s puppy dog eyes act, but come on, I wouldn’t let anything happen to you. You act like you’re waiting for me to sock you.”

You opened your mouth and closed it again, realizing you didn’t know what to say. It was hard enough to think with Dean’s eyelashes sweeping over his cheekbones like the most delicious metronome you’d ever seen, let alone process what he was saying. “I—Dean, I’m not scared of you,” you finally squeaked. His face didn’t change with the spark of recognition that would’ve allowed you to stop there with a soggy handful of dignity left, and you took a deep breath to steel yourself to continue. “God, this is so embarrassing,” you murmured under your breath. “Okay,” you started, hoping your voice sounded resolute and firm. “I mean, it’s just that you’re so cute, and cool, and self-assured, and I was worried I was going to do something weird or whatever, and now I guess I have anyway. I’m truly sorry if I made you uncomfortable, or especially feel like I wasn’t anything other than thankful for you and everything you’ve done. I’ll try to act like less of a total freak, I promise.” 

You winced, waiting for the inevitable pity from this gorgeous man who must hear these proclamations from every woman he meets. Instead, Dean chuckled, which was maybe even worse. Pity you were ready for, could swallow and heal your ego from in private, but open ridicule was too much.

“Okay, well, that was fun. Sorry,” you said, smacking the tops of your legs and getting up from the bed. Dean grabbed one of your wrists as he pinched the bridge of his nose, rubbing his eyes.

“No, wait, sit down,” he said, smiling.

You obeyed, feeling a little lump of embarrassed tears forming in your throat but not seeing a way to extricate yourself from the room gracefully. Dean’s callused thumb swiped affectionately across the back of your hand.

“That is way better than what I thought,” he insisted.  “Sam made a big deal about how I shouldn’t act like a creep to you, and it got in my head. I thought I was coming off as a total perv or something.”

His eyes locked you in like quicksand before you could answer, not pitying or withering at all as you’d thought, just soft and tender and the impossible green of a perfect matcha. “No, I’m the perv here,” you offered, attempting to make light of your shyness.

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, sweetheart,” Dean purred. Heat swelled up into your cheeks, and Dean brought your hand to his lips, pressing a warm kiss to the back of your hand as he gazed up at you.

As you were desperately scrolling through the Rolodex in your mind for something witty to say, Sam opened the door to the motel room. You were equally and fiercely relieved and stymied as his hulking frame filled the doorway, grabbing the duffel he’d left on the tile. “You guys ready?” he asked, his smile bright and carefree.

Dean dropped your wrist and winked at you as he got up from the couch unhurriedly. “More than ready, Sammy. Let’s hit the road.”

-

Thanks again for reading! If you liked it, check out my Masterlist or send me a request!

Tags: @sams-sass, @akshi8278​, @dream-believe-and-love​

[adventuresinwonderlust]

Title: Serious Inquiries Only: PART 5

*FOR PART 1 CLICK HERE, FOR PART 2 CLICK HERE, FOR PART 3 CLICK HERE, For PART 4 CLICK HERE or SEE MASTERLIST*

Pairing: dom! yoongi x reader ft. Hobi

Warnings: Talk of sexual favors, flirting, crack, humor, Slight angst, Dry Humping (M) (F), Daddy Kink, Glory Hole (M) Receiving.

Rating: 18 and over

Tag list: @mochilicious-yoongi​

Hobi:

“Let me get this straight, you applied for a VIP invite for Y/N to go to the SIO Annual Meet and Greet because you want to reveal yourself as Gloss to her?” Hobi angrily whispers to Yoongi across the table at the quaint diner on campus. “Yes, that’s exactly right.” Yoongi says with confidence, sipping his Iced Americano. “Can I give advice here?” Hobi lifts a finger in the air for permission. “No,” Yoongi clips, “Your advice is the reason I’m stuck in this shitty predicament. I want her Hobi, and I don’t want to wait anymore. I won’t compete with anyone and that includes myself.” “Ah Hyung. I just don’t want to upset her. She can really be, sensitive, you know. I don’t want this to trigger her to close off again like she did with Trevor.” “I’m not Trevor.” Yoongi states. “I know, I know but still. If she freaks out, she will just retreat into her own head and who knows when any of us will see her again.” Yoongi throws himself back, sighing in frustration. Hobi eyes him carefully, trying to gauge whether he is angry. “I’m sorry Hobi. I’m doing this. I sent the invitation already. Enough is enough. She deserves to know, and I deserve an end to this vicious cycle.” “I understand that but Hyung…” “Enough Hobi! I don’t care ok. I’m doing this,” Yoongi shouts, getting up now, pulling his wallet out, and placing money on the table, “I’m sorry to shout. I know you mean well. Breakfast on me. Talk later.”

Hobi enters the apartment he shares with Y/N, trying desperately to avoid her and/or a conversation with her. He shuts the door softly, locking it slowly, and hurrying towards his room. He sighs once he makes it safely, dropping his pouch on his bed and pulling off his jacket. He turns to flick the light on, yelling bloody murder at the sight of Y/N sitting at his computer desk. “What are doing in here?” He shouts. “I was lonely.” She shrugs. He pants, desperately, mumbling under his breath angrily. “I have request to fill today Y/N, so um, please, I need my desk.” He waves for her to move out of his seat. “Sitting in the dark like a creep.” He grumbles, starting his computer. “Did you see Yoongi today?” She inquires, hanging Hobi’s jacket in the closet for him. “Yeah, I did. We had breakfast.” “How is he?” “Good.” Hobi clips, trying to keep things short. “Did he mention me?” “Nope. We talked shop, normal stuff.” “Oh, I guess he’s still mad at me.” Hobi shrugs, “He didn’t mention it.” “Maybe I should go see him.” “Uh, no, he’s working now so, best leave it be.” She nods in response, fiddling with the items on Hobi’s desk. “I really like him Hobi, I just can’t get Gloss out of my head, like I felt a connection with him. I know it sounds dumb but it's true. I wish I was better at this relationship shit.” She sighs. Hobi looks at her as she aimlessly moves about his bedroom. “You know, I think the first step in all this would be to let go of all the shit that happened with Trevor. I feel like you never got over that and it's controlled your every decision since the two of you broke up. Forgive him, not because he deserves it but because you do.” Her eyes light up and she walks over to Hobi and hugs him. “You’re so smart Hobi and right. What would I do without you?” Hobi chuckles, pushing her away jokingly, “Alright, Alright, I’m still traumatized from Yoongi’s birthday. I don’t feel comfortable being this close to you yet.” She laughs, slapping Hobi’s arm and walking out of his room. Hobi throws his head back, groaning loudly, trying to relieve the stress accumulated at his shoulders.

Y/N:

You walk tall, confidence and anxiety fueling your every step. “I got this.” You continue to say over and over, finally arriving at your destination. You yank the door open, the bells chiming loudly as you enter. You walk to the counter and wait. In no time, a person emerges from the back, “Welcome to Iron Ink, how can I help…. Holy Shit. Y/N, hi. What are you doing here?” “Trevor, hi. I think it’s time we talked.”

Yoongi:

“I’ll take the thigh restraints.” Yoongi points at the leather thigh cuffs lined in fur. The employee behind the counter nods, handing him the box. Yoongi takes to reading the back, “Does this come with the wrist restraints?” He inquires. “Nah, but we have the matching ones in the back stock if you want them.” Yoongi nods. “You want the locks as well.” The employee asks. “Yeah, everything.” “You got it Gloss.” The employee says, heading to the back stock room. Yoongi takes to browsing the small shop, his eyes settling on a set of sterling silver nipple clamps. He takes the box off the shelf and reads the back. The employee emerges from the back. “Ah, those are a best seller.” He explains to Yoongi. “Do you have them in gold?” “I do actually.” Yoongi nods. “Excellent. I’ll take them in gold and get me rubber covers for them just in case, oh and more lube.” “You are going all out today. She must be special huh?” The employee smiles. “Very.” Yoongi mumbles, pulling out his credit card and handing it to the employee.

Y/N:

“I must admit, it’s a shock to see you after all this time. I mean, we didn’t end things well.” Trevor explains, pulling a chair out for you to sit in. You look around the back room, remembering all the times the two of you had fooled around back here when suddenly your heart drops and you imagine all the other women he must have fooled around with as well. “We didn’t, did we?” You turn to face him now. “No. I mean things were not good towards the end.” He chuckles. You eye him angrily. “What’s funny?” “Nothing. I mean you were kind of going crazy back then. Showing up unannounced and the arguing was just, well you remember.” “Maybe because my boyfriend was handing out free tattoos with every blowjob.” You snip. He sucks his teeth, sitting up straight. “You know I wasn’t doing that. I’m not going to say I was a saint cause I wasn’t but I wasn’t sleeping with clients.” “Bullshit,” You hiss, “Just be honest Trevor.” He shrugs. “So, you came here to hash things up again? I'm not really interested in doing that honestly. Like if you wanted to catch up and I don’t know, check in, then cool but I don’t want to talk about the past.” “Check in? You mean fuck? Not on your death bed would I bless you with this cunt again.” Trevor laughs out loud at your brazenness. “I know how wild you can get baby girl. Who's taking care of you now a days?” You roll your eyes at his pig-headed question but decide to give him what he wants. “Actually, Yoongi. You remember him, don’t you?” You lean back in the chair you're sitting in and cross your legs, resting your hands in your lap. Trevor tilts his head in confusion, and you watch in amusement as the wheels spin. “Wait a minute. That quiet dude that used to chill with Hobi? Get the fuck outta here. I always knew he had a crush on you. That’s interesting because you were always accusing me of cheating and here you are fooling around with the kid that drooled every time you walked by. Who's the pot and who's the kettle in this equation Y/N?”

You laugh out loud. “You are both pot and kettle. Had I just gotten with Yoongi and ignored you from the beginning I wouldn’t be sitting here looking for closure now.” “Oh, I see, you want closure. Well, here it is for you. You were hot, I knew that Yoongi kid wanted you but he’s an arrogant fuck and I wanted to one up him and guess what, I did. Tell him to enjoy my sloppy seconds.” You gasp, jumping from your seat and slapping Trevor across the face. “Fuck you Trevor! You’re trash. I can't believe it took me so long to realize it.” You say simply, heading out of the tattoo shop. “Hey, Y/N,” Trevor calls out to you, curiosity fueling you to spin and face him. “You said you wanted closure, well, here it is for you. I’m an asshole who played at being a decent guy to get you in my bed. Once I used you up, I went back to what I did best and that’s fuck around. We all have a cross to bear baby girl. I’m not ashamed of who I am. The question here is after all this time, have you figured out who you are without me?” You scoff at his statement, shaking your head, and releasing a huge sigh. “Yeah, I did Trevor, and I couldn’t have done it without you showing me exactly who you are, so thank you and I forgive you. Take care.” You pull the door open, the fresh air from outside blowing your hair back. You close your eyes and let it wash over you when you smile, feeling free finally, of Trevor, of the past.

Yoongi:

Yoongi arrives to his apartment, setting his goodie bags on the ground next to him and digging his keys out of his pocket to unlock the door. He grabs his bags once again and grips the knob, turning it and walking into the now locked door. “What the fuck?” He huffs, setting the bags down again and digging his keys out. He shoves them into their respective locks and turns the knob, throwing the door open. “Huh.” He whispers, wondering if he could’ve left this morning without locking the apartment. He grabs his bags and walks into the apartment carefully. He shuts the door quietly, reaching into the umbrella holder by the door for the bat he keeps there. He pulls it out gently and moves throughout his apartment. He notices his bedroom door open and lifts the bat up as he makes his way to his room. He shoves the door open quickly, shouting into the room, “Hands up!” “Well at least you practice safe sex.” His mother drawls, turning around from his bed with his box of condoms and silk ties in her hands.

Yoongi sighs in relief, “Eomma, what are doing in my things?” “I was straightening up this place. It needs a woman’s touch in here. Tell me what are these for? Do you tie women up for sexual pleasure? Are you a deviant?” Yoongi pinches at the bridge of his nose in frustration. “I am not a deviant no, please put those things back and next time don’t go through my things.” She turns around with a grunt, placing the items in the secret drawer she found them in. Yoongi spins and leaves the room, grabbing his bags from the adult store and hiding them in the hall closet. “Why didn’t you call?” He asks, his mother emerging from his room. “Can’t a mother surprise her son for his birthday?” She mumbles, moving around with purpose, inspecting his apartment. “My birthday passed already Eomma. You could’ve just called.” “It’s been a while since I’ve seen you in person. You’re always so busy now. I had to pop up.” “About that, that key I gave you, it’s for emergencies only.” “Today was an emergency. Motherly emergency. I haven’t heard from you in a while. How’s work?” She shuffles towards Yoongi’s office causing Yoongi’s heart to jump. “Uh, Eomma, come, let me make you tea. I’ll tell you all about work and show you some sheet music.” She stops, smiling at him with a nod. Yoongi turns and begins for the kitchen. “Oh,” He hears her yelp, “Tell me, is this used for piano lessons?” She comes from the hall, holding one of Yoongi’s goodie bags in one hand and the box of thigh restraints in the other.

Y/N:

“Ahhh, fuck, yeah, fuck! I'm cumming.” You cringe, hearing Hobi shout from his bedroom as you enter your apartment. You drop your keys on the counter, a shimmering silver envelope catching your eye. You grab it off the counter and are immediately surprised to see it’s addressed to you. You flip the envelope over and tear it open to reveal an invitation:

Dear WildGoddess11:

You have been exclusively invited to attend Serious Inquiries Only Annual Meet and Greet Event by one our top content creators Gloss93.

Our event will be held Saturday XX-XX-XXXX at 10pm. Please be sure to sign in at our VIP table to receive your exclusive VIP bracelet that will allow you access to some of our latest and greatest products and features, as well as mingle with some of the best content creators across our platform.

We look forward to meeting you.

Remember,

Serious Inquiries Only

Your jaw drops and your heart races as your eyes scan the invite over and over. You haven’t spoken to Gloss in a week and Hobi says he never attends the meet and greet. You needed to talk to Hobi, but you knew he'd kill you if you walked in while he was filming.

You pull your phone out of your pocket and text Hobi. ‘I need to talk to you ASAP, 911!’. In a frantic flash, Hobi emerges from his bedroom, throwing a shirt on over his head. “What's going on?” He pants. You simply lift the invite up in the air and allow him to take it from you. “Shit.” He whispers, reading the invite quickly, and slapping it in his palm nervously. “What should I do?” You ask, scanning his puzzled face.

“Hey, I’m going to head out. Thanks for the lunch break. Call me later?” A random female waves at you, having popped out of Hobi's room. Your gaze widens watching Hobi walk over and smooch the unknown female. “Sure thing beautiful. Talk soon.” He walks her out and closes the door, heading to the kitchen for a Gatorade. “What?” He asks, plopping down on the couch. “Who was that?” “Later for that. We have more pressing matters at hand.” He clips, raising the invite in the air. “Ok, so, do I accept the invite?” You shrug. Hobi drops his head back, grunting in frustration. “What?” You whine. “Nothing, it’s nothing. I guess I feel bad. This is all my fault. If I hadn't given you Gloss’ code, you wouldn’t be so confused about everything.” Hobi explains, running his fingers through his hair. “No, stop it. I am ok Hoseok, really. I am happy you gave me his code. You pushed me out of my shell and challenged me to get back out into the world. I love you. I mean, I couldn’t do any of this without you!” You walk over to Hobi now and drop down into his lap hugging him. “I love you too Y/N, even if you are a nasty freaking psycho sometimes.” You both burst into laughter, breaking the hug. “Hey, don’t think we aren’t going to address the random girl that just walked out of here. Spill it Hobi!!” You scold, smiling once you see the large grin spread across his face.

Yoongi:

Yoongi sighs deeply, exhausted from having dealt with his mother the night before. He always hated when she popped up on him unannounced, sneaking around his life, searching for some deep dark secret. Yoongi is thankful for his quick wit and being able to convince his mother that the items she found were for a gift for Hobi, whom she’s never met and now never wanted to. He spent the rest of the night, showing her his sheet music and lesson plans for his students, pulling out his old keyboard from his closet and playing for her until she was satisfied enough to leave. What should’ve been a quiet birthday dinner between mother and son, like normal people, turned into a night of mental tug of war. Yoongi drank back his Americano quickly, kicking himself for not getting a larger size, when his phone buzzed.

Goddess: I got your invitation to the meet and greet. I have to say I’m a little confused, why would you invite me to that? I’ve heard through the grapevine that you’ve never attended. Any reason for the change up?

Me: Yeah… you.

Goddess: I don’t understand.

Me: Promise you will.

Goddess: Well, in that case, I accept. You are officially unblocked. How will I recognize you?

Me: I’ll be wearing a white and gold mask. Text me when you arrive, and I’ll tell you where I am.

Goddess: I am so excited to finally see your face.

Me: I am excited to finally shed this mask.

Goddess: What does that mean?

“Hey.” Yoongi hears, his head popping up from his phone. He smirks catching Y/N put her phone in her pocket. Yoongi pulls in a deep breath. “So, why on earth are we meeting in the student library. It’s a bit, high school romance, no?” Y/N scoffs at Yoongi’s comment. “Actually, I felt like it’s a better option for us. Lots of people around. No funny business, just schoolwork.” Yoongi nods, grinning at her ridiculous assumption. “And using Hobi to get in contact with me, I mean, we aren’t kids.” “It just worked out that way Yoongi. Besides, you were a bit pissed at me last time we saw each other.” “Can you blame me?” “No, that’s why I chose the library. No temptation, out in the open.” She waves her arms around at the space and Yoongi chuckles at the empty space. “There’s no one here because its 9am. The library isn’t crowded until lunch time and I promise you there isn’t a surface in this place that doesn’t have some sticky substance on it.” Yoongi says with raised brows, shaking his head when her eyes pop open.

“Well, anyway I wanted to get started on our project now, so we have less to do later.” “Think you can focus long enough naughty girl?” Yoongi teases, leaning forward to brush his arm against hers. She slides over a bit, clearing her throat and pulling a notebook from her bag. “Did you have a topic in mind?” She asks, opening the notebook looking at Yoongi. “No, I actually haven’t really thought about it.” “Well, I was thinking of doing an expose on social media and the evolution of platforms like SIO.” She suggests causing Yoongi’s brows to fly upwards. “Uh, yeah, no. I’m not really interested in that. We should pick a subject that matters and that we know a lot about.” “Oh, come on, we can interview Hobi. I think it’ll be fun and outside the box.” Yoongi shakes his head, eyeing Y/N suspiciously. “So suddenly you’re the expert on SIO? Why the sudden interest?” He questions. “No reason other than the students at this school really love it and it’s a huge money-making platform.” She shrugs. “Bullshit. Give me your username and I’ll subscribe to your content.” Yoongi teases, trying to see if she’ll open the door for him to confess. She laughs out loud. “You’re adorable. I don’t have an SIO and if I did, you wouldn’t be able to handle it.”

Yoongi breaths in deeply, eyeing their surroundings to be sure it's still empty before leaning in to whisper in her ear. “You sure about that naughty girl? I seem to be handling you pretty well don’t you think?” “Uh, Yoongi, stop. We need to focus.” She whispers, tucking her hair behind her ear. Yoongi leans in closer, smelling her sweet perfume, his erection growing as his need flows throughout his body. “Do you really want me to stop? Because if you do, I’m going to need you to stop biting on your lip.” He whispers to her, lifting his hand to pull her bottom lip from her teeth. She groans at his touch, slamming her mouth into his. Yoongi takes a deep breath through his nose, raptured by her aggressive attack on his mouth. He moans as she shoves her tongue in his mouth, swirling hers around his until she can grasp his tongue with her lips and suckle on it. His cock strains in his jeans and he is grateful when she straddles him, driving her sex across his jailed member. “So much for focusing on schoolwork.” Yoongi groans between kisses. “Shut up before I change my mind.” She pants, grinding down harder into his lap. “Fuck.” Yoongi grunts, lifting her up and sitting her onto the desk in front of him. He takes her mouth into another lustful kiss, making his way down her neck, nipping at the soft flesh.

He stands up straight, making himself comfortable between her legs. “Yoongi…” She whines. “Shh. You wouldn’t want anyone to hears us would you,” He warns, gripping her by hips and pulling her forward until her sex is pressed firmly against his massive hard on, “Now, do daddy a favor and let him watch you fuck yourself against his cock. Quickly naughty girl, it seems like there’s a crowd building in here.” He teases, hitching his hips forward to run across her clit. She gasps at the feeling, taking no time in grinding against him again. He takes her hips and pulls her closer against him, the feeling of her trembling walls teasing his cock in the most amazing way. Her head falls back and Yoongi drinks in the sight of her panting and moaning softly, her wetness beginning to soak into the front of his jeans. “That’s it naughty girl. Just like that.” He encourages, moaning softly when she picks up her speed, her cunt flicking across his clothed tip. “Shit. You keep that up and you just might make me cum in my jeans. Would you like that naughty girl?” “Yes.” She whimpers, hooking one of her legs around his waist and pulling Yoongi closer to her core. She grips the back of his shirt tightly, moaning softly. “Please, daddy, suck my tits.” She begs, yanking down her top now, to expose one of her perky nipples. Yoongi growls, leaning his head down to wrap his pout around the pert bud, rolling his tongue along her piercing, a loud moan escaping her throat but Yoongi could care less if they are caught now.

His cock is too hard, and her cunt too soaked for him to ever stop now. He hums around her nipple, releasing it quickly and taking over the situation, feeling his climax building with every flick across his sensitive tip. He yanks her closer, wrapping both her legs around his waist and begins to hitch his hips upwards, gliding his needy erection across her sex, wondering when the last time he dry humped anyone was. She moans wildly causing Yoongi to cover her mouth as he wraps his arm around her waist, humping her faster and faster. Her breath quickens and thighs begin to shake. “Hold on for me naughty girl. I’m so close.” He grunts, his body burning, balls tightening, and stomach clenching. He grips her mouth tightly, panting into her ear, “I’m going to cum.” She nods her head, reaching up to pull his hand from her lips. “Me too, me too.” She moans. Yoongi groans as quietly as he can, his hot seed spurting out onto his balls and dripping down his jeans to his thigh. Y/N on the other hand, cries out loudly, biting onto Yoongi’s neck to hush herself before he can cover her mouth. “Fuck!” Yoongi hisses as Y/N clenches down harder on his neck, slowly releasing him when she comes down from her high. They are both panting messes when Yoongi takes a step back. She doesn’t say anything for a while, she just slides off the desk, gathering her things. “Yoongi, I…”  He looks her over and scoffs. “Yeah, yeah. I know how this goes. You gotta go right? This was wrong and what not. It's cool. I have to go home and shower anyway. I like the SIO idea.” He clips, trying to keep his composure. “Really? So, we’re good?” She inquires. He nods, not having a care in the world, safe in the knowledge that all will be revealed at the meet and greet.

HOBI:

“You look amazing Y/N.” Hobi smiles at his friend in her Rose pink skintight mini dress. “Do you think Gloss will like it?” She twirls. “I think he’s going to love it.” “I think it suits being a VIP at a fancy meet and greet event.” She giggles. “It definitely does, well, I'm gonna go ahead if you’re ok. The content creators are always asked to arrive before the event starts.” “I'm good. Go have fun and I'll see you there.” She waves him off. He takes her in one more time, feeling warm at how bright and happy she looks. “You really look great Y/N.” “Thanks Hobi.” He nods and head out the door.

He arrives at the event, smiling wide when he sees Yoongi clad in an all-black suit, clutching a white and gold full face mask. “How phantom of the opera of you.” He notes. Yoongi chuckles, scratching the back of his neck nervously. “I don’t know Hoseok, maybe this was a bad idea.” “No, no, no. Hey come on, Fighting! You got this! She looks amazing tonight by the way. You’re gonna drop dead. She’s just glowing, really.” Hobi can't help but gloat, leading Yoongi into the event. Yoongi slides his mask on, following closely behind Hobi. “Really? I can't wait to see her and get this charade over with.” “I just hope she remembers that we are friends and I have loved and supported her all these years, you know for when she goes to kill us.” Hobi laughs loudly. They approach the sign in table for content creators and check in, walking about the event. “Shit, look at this place.” Yoongi notes, looking around the space in amazement. “Yeah, last year they had GO-GO dancers, a motorcycle show, the works. This year I hear they have a lot of high-tech sex toys.” Hobi watches as Yoongi just nods, still looking about. “Hey, listen, I wanted to tell you something.” Hobi cuts in, drawing Yoongi’s attention. “What’s up?” Yoongi asks. “I asked Hannah to be my girlfriend.” Yoongi stops, turning to Hobi. “Shit. You really like her huh? Well, I called it. I'm happy for you Hoseok. Maybe after Y/N kills us we can all double date.” Hobi laughs loudly, patting Yoongi on the back. “For sure and you really did call it didn’t you. Great intuition I’m telling you.” Hobi praises, pushing Yoongi further into the event.

Y/N:

You arrive at the event on time, making your way over to the VIP table to check in. You take a deep breath, trying to calm the nerves you can't seem to shake. “Your name.” The check in clerk asks and you lean in close to give it to her. She smiles widely, handing you a VIP lanyard. “Enjoy the event. You’re super lucky, this is the first time that this content creator has ever attended an event.” You smile and nod, cringing when you walk away at the added nerves from the clerk's comment.

Me: I’m here.

Gloss: I’m in the VIP showroom.

Me: Ok, I am going to come find you.

Gloss: I'll be waiting.

You move through the event with ease, stopping every so often to check out some of the vendors and even chat with other content creators, buying time before you have to meet with Gloss, your nerves at an all-time high. You walk through the curtain to the VIP showroom, flashing your VIP tag to the security guard as you enter. You check out some of the vendor tables as you pass by, eyes widening at all the amazing new tech they offer. You stop at a table, checking out the toys at the table, your eyes scanning a vibrating anal plug. “40 percent off for VIPs.” The vendor says out loud to you. “Uh, that’s ok. I was just looking.” “Sure thing. It has 4 different speeds plus it heats up when the speeds increase.” “Wow.” You giggle. “Yeah, it’s a best seller on our website. Take my card.” He hands it to you and you nod, putting it in your clutch and walking off.

You make your way towards the back of the showroom and stop again at these two huge connected pods. “What on earth is this?” You mumble. “Ah, I’m glad you asked,” A very enthusiastic vendor boasts, “This here is a state of the art, never before seen, Glory Hole.” “Like a bathroom glory hole.” He laughs at your statement. “Essentially yes but this one is much cleaner and more intimate. It has a larger more comfortable, adjustable hole for the gentlemen as well as a vibrating saddle for the ladies to sit comfortably and get her own pleasure. Our technology is state of the art, the walls are full on touch sensitive and ignite with bursting colors when you or your partner touch or glide your hands against them. There is also a panel on the wall that allows for complete communication between the two pods, you can switch between three modes. First mode disguises the voice if you want to keep things nice and discreet, Second Mode allows you to talk naturally with your normal speaking voice if that’s what you prefer, and Mode Three shuts the coms off so your partner won’t be able to hear you. The panel also controls the lights in the room and the colors of the walls. So, what do you think? You wanna give it a go?” Your eyes pop open. “Excuse me?” You snap. The vendor laughs, “Not with me. Uh, whomever you’re here with, a content creator or boyfriend. We are offering testing for 60 percent off when you leave a review and refer a friend. We completely sanitize the room after every use, although you’d be the first using it tonight if you sign up and there are also UV lights in the room, constantly killing germs. We are quite popular at parties. I can always give you my card if you aren’t interested now. I know it’s a lot of information.”

Gloss: Where are you? Please don’t tell me you got cold feet.

You look down at the message, your heart fluttering, hearing Hobi’s voice in your head, ‘Be brave.’ “You know what, I think I am interested in trying it now.” “Great!” The vendor smiles, leading you over to the table to set up your payment. You swipe your card and send Gloss a text.

Yoongi:

Goddess: Meet me by the Giant Blue Pods, ask for Marcus.

Yoongi sighs, walking quickly towards the back of the showroom. He soon sees the giant blue pods and begins to look around for Y/N. “Are you Gloss?” A man approaches. “Uh, Yeah. Are you Marcus?” “Yeah,” The man sticks his hand out for Yoongi to shake. Yoongi shakes it, puzzled when Marcus turns his hand over to admire it. Yoongi’s brow furrows and he pulls his hand back. “Sorry man, I heard a lot about your hands.” “Uh, ok. Thanks, I think.” “Definitely a compliment. Anyway, you aren’t here for me. Right this way.” Marcus states, leading Yoongi towards the door on the left. “I don’t understand. I am supposed to be meeting someone.” Yoongi explains. “I know. Panel on the wall controls the coms. First mode is to disguise your voice, second comp is to speak naturally, Third shuts coms off completely. Otherwise, just have fun.” Marcus opens the door and Yoongi enters it, hearing the lock click once inside. “Welcome Gloss.” The Pod speaks causing Yoongi to jump back. “It’s me, Goddess.” Yoongi removes his mask, walking toward the panel on the wall and clicking on the first mode to disguise his voice. “What’s all this about?” He asks. Looking around at how the room lights up pink and blue when she giggles. “I was nervous to see you face to face so I figured this was easier.” He nods, running his fingers along the wall, jumping back when he sees it light up red. “Cool right?” She laughs. “What is this thing? A confessional?” He moves about the empty room. “It’s a modern-day Glory Hole.” She giggles, Yoongi smiling when the room lights up with her laugh.

“Are you serious?” “Sure am.” “And what exactly are we doing in a Glory Hole?” She giggles again. “I wanted to be able to speak freely but I was super nervous for some reason, silly I know, and since I know how much your anonymity means to you, I figure this was the best option. Besides, you never did show me your cock.” Yoongi laughs now, the room lighting up orange and red. “Did you set these lights up?” “I did, do you like it? I can change it or you can with the panel on the wall. I was waiting for you so I had to time to play with the settings.” “And the wall, it lights up too.” He inquires, moving towards the wall and placing his palm against it, a ring of red burst from beneath it. “Yeah, every time we touch it.” She explains, a burst of pink light emerging from beneath Yoongi’s palm which leads him to believe she is pressing her palm against his. “I want to see you. I have to talk to you face to face.” Yoongi swallows, dropping his hand. “We aren’t face to face but feel free to talk.” “Its better if we are face to face.” “I want you Gloss.” Yoongi scoffs. “You don’t even know me.” “Of course, I do and I’ve never been more attracted to someone in my life.” Yoongi scoffs at her comment, his heart nearly breaking at the thought that he’s lost Y/N to Gloss, an alter ego. “You really don’t.” “Don’t you want me?” She practically moans, causing Yoongi’s cock to twitch. “Of course I do.” He whispers, pressing his hands against the wall, smirking when the red bursts of light shoot out.

The machine makes a sudden whirring sound and Yoongi gasps at the sudden feeling of a hand on his crotch. He looks down to see a square opening in the wall, Y/N’s hand poked through rubbing at his growing erection. “Fuck.” He moans, pressing his crotch into her palm. “Let me suck your cock, please Gloss. I want you so bad.” She moans. The lights in the room suddenly dim and Yoongi moves towards the panel to try to turn them back on, not sure what he’s clicked on. He sucks his teeth, fiddling with his belt buckle, pouting when he sees her hand disappear through the hole. He frees his cock from its confines and begins to stroke it, his head falling back. “How do we do this?” He asks but she doesn’t respond. “You still there?” Her voice comes through. “Yeah.” He grunts, slowing his strokes down. She doesn’t respond and he realizes he’s turned his coms off. “Shit, hold on.” He says, moving towards the panel. “I don’t know what happened but put your cock through the hole baby.” She says in the neediest voice and Yoongi clicks on the panel button quickly, moving towards the hole and sticking his cock through. He immediately feels her hot wet tongue glide across his slit and he moans out, pressing his body firmly against the wall, biting down on his lip as the room cascades blue. She swirls her tongue gently around his tip, teasingly taking him inch by inch into her warm mouth. Yoongi bites down harder on his lip, stifling back the moan in his throat.

She soon moans around his cock, sending shockwaves through out his core, a soft vibrating sound filling his pod. Yoongi can’t hold back anymore, a loud groan escaping when she begins to bob back forth across his full length. “Shit.” He cries out when she takes him to the back of her throat, the sounds of her gagging filling his pod. He reaches down and cups his balls, tugging on them as she begins to bob on his cock again, pull back to his tip, suckling at the sensitive head, eliciting an animal like sound from him. He slams his fist against the wall, a red flash bursting throughout the room. She removes her mouth from his length, gasping and moaning out loud, sending chills down his spine. “Fuck Goddess. You sound so fucking sexy.” “I don’t know if you can hear me,” She begins, “But I’m so fucking wet, gliding my pussy across this vibrating saddle. I wish I was wrapped around your cock.” “Fuck.” He groans, stretching his arm out to try and reach the coms panel to turn it back on first mode. He strains, unable to keep his cock in the hole and reach the panel. He contemplates removing his member from the hole to turn on the coms when Y/N takes his cock back in her mouth.

“Fucking shit.” He cries out, the feeling of her running her tongue along the sensitive skin beneath his tip. He strains once again to reach the panel, his middle finger tapping the panel, her groan filling his pod when his cock slides from her lips. “Sorry baby.” He pants, standing tall now. “Can you hear me now?” He asks but Y/N just slurps his cock back into her mouth, using nothing but her tongue and hollowed mouth to yank him back towards her, his body hitting the wall. “Shit, you take my cock so well. Such a good girl for me.” She begins to bob faster, the walls lighting up pink at what Yoongi assumes are her hands against the wall. She moans frantically against his cock, her pace only quickening and Yoongi wonders if she’s close to cumming. He closes his eyes, imaging what she looks like right now, gliding her sopping cunt across that saddle, his cock hitting her throat. He moans freely now, hitching his hips forward uncontrollably as he keeps pace with her. He bends his knees a bit when she begins to gag and swallow his cock down her throat. The sweet sensation of her soft palate rubbing against his tip. She moans harder, swallowing more and more of him, his legs begin to shake as his balls tighten into his body. “Fuck baby, you’re so fucking amazing. I’m going to fucking cum. Shit.” He moans unabashedly, slamming his fist hard against the wall to warn her, since he knows she can’t hear him.

Her moans are louder now and desperate, and Yoongi just knows she cumming, the feeling of her throat vibrating around his cock sending him over the edge. “Oh. My. Fucking. God. Y/N, fuck, I’m fucking cumming baby.” He cries out, slamming his hip against the wall, his cock nestled firmly in her throat as his orgasm shoots out from his tip, coating her throat. She swallows him back with ease, sucking him through his high, pulling away and lapping the last bits of his arousal off his tip. He presses his forehead against the wall, laughing when it lights up the room pink. He moves towards the coms to turn them back on as he tucks himself away. He squints at the panel, his heart dropping when he sees its on the Second Mode. “FUCK! Y/N!” He shouts, looking down to be sure his cock is away and yanking on the booth door until it clicks open. He moves towards the door where Y/N should be and yanks it open…. EMPTY. “FUCK!” Yoongi yells. Marcus approaching him. “Hey man, she ran out. Everything ok?” “Yeah,” Yoongi pants, “Did you see which way she went?” Marcus points towards the exit of the VIP showroom and Yoongi goes running after her. He sprints towards the exit, slamming into Hobi. “Hyung, what the fuck is going on?” Yoongi is panting, desperately trying to catch his breath. “I fucked up Hobi, she left. I fucked it all up, I’m so fucking stupid!” He yells. “Hey, hey. Calm down. Put your mask on, people are looking at us.” Hobi warns. Yoongi puts his mask on happily, warm tears streaming down his face. “I fucked it all up.” He whispers. “Calm down Hyung. Let me call her ok. See where she is.” Yoongi shakes his head trying to stop Hobi from making the call. “Hey where are you?” Hobi asks on speaker phone. “Of all the men who would break my heart Hoseok, I never thought it’d be you.” She says with briefly, hanging up the phone. “What the fuck did you do?” Hobi turns to Yoongi, his face flushed red, an anger Yoongi has yet to see.

[bodymassagechandigarh]

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[novannna]

Idk if this counts as a fic request? But If you're cool with it, maybe you can write a little thing about your OCs? I really liked hearing about Sloane and Jordan!!

ANON I LOVE YOUUUUU

ahhh i will forever talk ab them 🥺🥺 i love them so much tysm for listenign me scream incoherently ab them

i wasn't exactly sure what you wanted, so i wrote their first meeting (if you wanted something different, lemme know, i will happily write more of them ajhfsadf)

some background info that i may or may not have already said, idk, but im saying again: Jordan's name is technically Lydia Jordan, she changes it after she meets sloane, sloane works for a nameless organization where people hire thieves to steal for them, through the organization, and the organization in turn provides housing, and food, and safety, as well as guaranteed jobs.

this is all probably v confusing im so bad at explaining stuff, ask if you have questions!

also i kinda dont like this i was only partly coherent when i wrote this, but whatever :)

Sloane pulled at her dress, nose wrinkling as the fabric itched against her skin.

“Are you sure I have to wear shoes Elias?” She asked the man next to them.

He glared at her. “Yes. Sloane, this is for real now. You have to act proper. Stop fidgeting.”

Sloane sulked. “I am proper.”

Elias groaned. “Why did I have to be the one stuck with a fucking child?”

“I’m not a child!” Sloane protested. “I’ll knock you to your ass again, if you want me to prove it. And you’re only 10 years older than me, it’s not that much!”

“If you’re so grown up, then stop complaining.”

Sloane glared but didn’t say anything. They were sitting in a carriage, waiting to arrive at the Duke of Cantol’s manor. They had been hired to steal a case of jewels, hidden away somewhere within the grand building. The only way to steal them was to pose as nobles, and infiltrate the Duke’s solstice party themselves.

This was Sloane’s first real job. Before this, she had only done petty crime for the elders. Minor pickpocketing, and stealing for low paying clients.

This was their chance to prove themself, both as a thief worthy of jobs given out by the elders, and a chance to prove that she wasn’t merely a child.

The only problem was, Sloane had never interacted with nobles before. The other thieves had put her through rigorous training, everything from how to respond to questions, to which cutlery to use.

But it didn’t matter if this was all new to her. Sloane was prepared. These were high stakes, where they worked best. They wouldn’t fail.

Slowly, the carriage pulled to a halt.

“Remember, do not speak out of turn. You know your job?” Elias asked.

Sloane nodded. “Find out where the jewels are, then report back to you. I remember everything.”

Elias nodded, only partially sated. “And-”

“And don’t complain,” Sloane interrupted. “I know.”

“Good. Don’t forget who you are, and who they are. Don’t give them a reason to doubt you.”

Sloane nodded. Though her face was a perfect mask of emotions, her stomach was writhing. Their fingers were tapping out a pattern onto her leg, the familiar motion a relief.

Elias opened the door, and together they stepped out onto the lush lawn.

---

Lydia hated everything, she had decided. She hated her dress, which pinched her ribs and kept her from breathing in a deep breath. She hated her shoes, terrible contraptions that threatened to send her tumbling to the floor with each step. She hated all the formal dinners that her family had to attend.

It was ridiculous! Why couldn’t they just stay in Roidan? It’s where they lived, after all. There was no point in traveling across the country to attend a pointless dinner.

But, despite everything there was a glimmer of hope in Lydia. A week ago, she had heard whispers of priceless jewels within the Duke of Cantol’s manor, and an anonymous person who had wished to possess them. Lydia had heard that someone would steal them, and she was determined to stop them. Determined to show how skilled she was with both her blades and her wit. Determined to show that she wasn’t the helpless little girl everyone insisted on seeing.

Lydia was so much more. She just needed everyone else to see it as well.

“Lydia! Stop pouting, and hurry up!” Her mom bustled into the room, her gown an atrocious combination of velvet and tulle. It nearly swallowed Lydia up, as her mom grabbed her hand, and pulled her through the doorway.

“The Duke was kind enough to allow us to stay here, and you thank him by making us late?” Her mother sighed. “When will you grow up?”

Lydia bit back a retort, instead gripped the handle of a dagger buried within the folds of her dress. It had been her fathers, until she had stolen it years ago and taught herself how to use it.

Lydia kept her mouth shut, and her fingers strangling the hard hilt. Head raised high, Lydia followed her mother down the grand stairs, and into the dining room.

The room was large, with at least twenty people sitting around a large, deep mahogany table. Lydia vaguely wondered how much it had cost.

Looking around the table, she barely registered the faces. She knew everyone. Until her gaze settled on a mismatched pair, sitting closest to the door.

A man, with short red hair, and soft pink skin sat next to a girl, looking to be about Lydia’s age. The girl had dark skin and hair a black so deep, Lydia thought she was looking at a starless sky. She was not from here, that was for sure. Lydia felt herself be drawn to her, as if some form of magnetic attraction.

“Lydia,” her mother hissed. “Sit!” She nearly forced Lydia into the chair, right next to the duke himself.

Lydia tried not to grimace. She didn’t want to spend the evening wearing a forced smile and pretend to be the perfect lady. She looked up again, trying to spot a glimpse of the other girl. She sat perfectly still, her back almost like a ruler. Her face was perfectly poised, just the slightest hint of a smile, no sign of anger or uncomfortableness. She looked perfectly at ease.

Lydia had to stop herself from sighing. Disappointing. Another perfect noble, someone Lydia could never be. Never wanted to be.

And then, she spotted the crack in the other girl's impenetrable armor. Her fingers, tapping out an anxious rhythm against the elegant table cloth. That tiny sliver of personality, of imperfection made Lydia almost burst into a grin.

Under the layers of makeup, and finery, and jewels, she was still a child, just like Lydia. She was human. She was human, and she was real, and maybe, just maybe, Lydia could be real too.

But it was foolish to entertain such an unrealistic notion. So Lydia tamped her smile down, and turned to her food, ignoring the stare the other girl was burning into her head.

---

“Who will be most likely to know where the jewels are?” Elias asked Sloane under his breath.

Sloane glanced around the table. “The Duke, and a few of the servants.” Her eyes were fixed on the only other child at the table. A girl, around her age sat next to the Duke, her blonde hair twisted into a bun. A few strands had escaped, and were floating loose around her head. The girl was staring at her food, refusing to look around.

“Sloane!” Elias hissed.

Sloane stiffened with annoyance. “What?” they spat.

“I asked who you will need to talk to to discern the location of the jewels?”

“This isn’t a quiz. You don’t need to test me, I’ll get it done.”

“I do, actually,” Elias responded. “I’m not just here to steal, I’m here to supervise and see if you actually could handle a permanent position within the organization. The elders asked me to oversee, and if all went satisfactory, then you would get a chance. And if not… well failure isn’t tolerated.”

Sloane froze. She knew a lot had been riding on this for her, but she hadn’t known how much. She hadn’t known everything was.

“I’ll ask again. Who will you ask?”

“The girl,” Sloane said quickly. She nodded across the table pointedly.

“Her? She has no idea where they are!”

Sloane sighed. “Yes, but young ears are attuned to what others miss. And, I’m her age. Befriend her, get her to trust me, and I’ll find them.”

“You think that’ll work?” Elias scoffed.

“I’m willing to bet everything on it,” Sloane responded. She turned her fiery gaze to him. “Trust me, I can do this.”

Elias hesitated, before reluctantly nodding. “If you’re sure… But the servants would be a better choice.”

Sloane didn’t respond. They turned her gaze back to the girl, mind already racing to plot it all out.

---

Lydia walked her perfect little steps, completely in sync with her mom. She kept her head bowed low, and eyes downcast.

Perfect daughter, perfect lady.

God, she was tired of it all. Her hands had the imprint of a dagger on them, from clutching the blade so tight.

A hand reached out, touching her shoulder.

It was the girl, a slight smile on her face and a far off gleam in her eyes.

Her other companion stood right behind her, his suit tailored and pressed to perfection.

“My Lady, if I may,” he said smoothly, his voice like butter, “my young cousin hasn’t often gotten the opportunity to interact with ones of her own age. I was wondering, with your permission, if the two of them might be able to talk, if only for a bit?” His hands rested on the girls shoulders.

Lydia looked up at her mom, daring to hope.

“I suppose. My little girl is much the same. Why don’t we let the two of them run along to the library.” Her mom knelt down her face at Lydia’s level now. “Learn what you can about them, yes dear? What threat they may pose to your future crown. And don’t forget who you are.” She gripped Lydia’s shoulders tightly.

Lydia nodded. Always some scheme, and other motive. Just once, could her mother let her have something with no string attached?

“Good girl. Now run along, and don’t forget.” With a barely concealed shove, she sent Lydia tumbling down a side hallway, the other girl close behind.

Lydia led them to the library, not bothering to talk. Her throat was tight with something other than tears. She pushed open the ornate wooden doors, and practically collapsed inside.

The other girl looked around the room with a critical eye. Looking at everything, Lydia noted. Interesting.

“Where are you from?” Lydia blurted out. “I’ve never seen you before.”

The other girl turned to face her, amused. “You presume to know everyone in this world, then?” Her voice was more rough than Lydia expected, and strangely lilted, as if trying to hide something underneath.

Lydia blushed. “No. But I know most nobles. I’ve never met you before. So, where are you from?”

“Abrynth, as are you.”

“You don’t look it,” Lydia retorted bluntly.

The other girl laughed. “Straight forwards and honest. You're different.” Not a question, just a simple fact.

But it was so much more.

“And is that good?” Lydia couldn’t help but ask.

The other girl paused. “Well, I personally think that when everything’s the same, we lose sight of what we are as a whole.”

“And that is….?”

The other girl grinned, showing a flash of white teeth. “One people, no good and no bad. All unique and all the same. Something so beautiful and powerful.”

“So good then?”

“Definitely.” The other girl extended a hand out to Lydia. “I’m Sloane.”

Lydia paused, hesitant to reply. She didn’t want this girl to know the proper lady she was supposed to be. The one raised to one day court the prince, and hopefully become queen. The one whose very name meant royalty. Her mom’s voice echoed in her head, saying, “Lydia means noble one, beautiful one. You’ll live up to that one day. Focus, and one day you’ll be queen, at the King’s side.”

Lydia hated that version of herself. It wasn’t true. It wasn’t her.

But she was a Jordan. Sharp tongued and quick witted. Handy with a blade, but not so with words. She was her fathers daughter, the son he had wanted in every way but gender.

“Jordan,” Lydia replied, shaking Sloane’s hand firmly. Just a single word, but it changed everything. And it felt so right.

“I’m pleased to meet your acquaintance,” Sloane said, grinning.

“Likewise.”

---

Despite everything, Sloane couldn’t help but like Jordan. The noble was more aware than the others. She was smart, and bright, and honest.

But Sloane only felt a little guilty about using her. It wasn’t like she was hurting Jordan by doing this anyways. She was helping herself, and no one else. It wasn’t as if Jordan wanted for anything, after all. She was a noble. The world practically bowed at her feet.

“Is this your first time here?” Jordan asked, breaking the silence.

Sloane nodded. “My cousin doesn’t often travel. This is his first time bringing me anywhere.”

“Your parents don’t bring you?”

Sloane froze, unsure how to respond. What had they decided her backstory was? Fuck.

“They’re dead. I live with my cousin now, at least till I’m old enough to be on my own.”

“I’m so sorry,” Jordan said, actually seeming sincere.

Sloane smiled slightly. “Thank you. I try not to think about it too much.”

Jordan nodded. “Well, that’s understandable.”

Sloane nodded, with what they hoped was appreciation. In truth, it felt more like a grimace.

For a few hours, Sloane let them get lost in the world. She and Jordan talked about everything. Sloane was surprised by their similarities. It was only when Jordan’s shoulders finally relaxed, and her fists stopped clenching in her dress, that sloane knew the other girl fully trusted her.

“I was wondering,” she added, making her tone more shy, and apprehensive. “My uncle had mentioned the Duke was an avid collector of all things old. Have you seen any of them?”

Jordan’s face gleamed. “No, but I know where they are,” she said, smirking. “Do you want to see?”

Sloane hesitated. “Is that allowed?”

Jordan’s grin widened. “No.” She extended a hand, and Sloane hesitantly placed her own inside it.

She knew she had been right. Jordan had been the right person to use. She was leading Sloane towards the goal, not a doubt in her mind. Sloane would earn her place within the organization. The elders would see that she truly was a worthy thief. She’d show them.

Sloane followed Jordan as she led them out of the library, and through the halls. They were mostly quiet now, the guests retired to the parlor by now. It was just Sloane and Jordan, almost as if no one else had ever existed.

Jordan stopped in front of a door, and slowly pushed it inwards.

Sloane bit back a gasp as she saw the trove of treasures within. The room was a study, but it seemed more storage than anything. Priceless pieces were arranged on bookshelves and cases all over the room.

Old pieces of pottery, and intricate blades. Tapestries, and scrolls cracked with age.

But no jewels. Yet.

“Oh,” Sloane breathed, breathless from the beauty. And anger crackling within her ribs. These were all no doubt stolen from other nations and people. She couldn’t help but wonder how many of these things had come without the price of blood.

Jordan was similarly mesmerized, her eyes stuck on a pair of matching daggers.

“This is amazing,” Sloane said. “There’s so much.”

Jordan’s eyes brightened. “But would you like to see more?”

Sloane’s body tensed with anticipation. She was only supposed to locate the jewels, but if she could steal them now, then it would be less risky, wouldn’t it? No one would believe Jordan if she said the other girl at dinner had taken them. Barely anyone even noticed them. She doubted that they had all even realized she had been there.

“There’s more?” Sloane widened her eyes.

Jordan grinned, and stepped to a tapestry hanging on the walls. “I heard from a servant that the Duke had demanded nobody touch this tapestry. Claimed it was fragile. But-” she tugged it off the wall, sending the fabric tumbling to the floor. “I believe differently,” she said proudly, standing next to a newly revealed hole in the wall. A small wooden chest gleamed from within. Sloane felt her feet carry her closer, her deft fingers opening the box, and a smile lighting up her face as a collection of red, blue, and white stones gleamed up at her.

“Are these…?” Sloane asked, barely needing confirmation.

Jordan peared over her shoulder. “Ruby, diamond, and sapphire,” she whispered. “That’s gotta be worth…” she whistled. “At least 300,000 crowns.”

Sloane grinned. Confirmation enough. She snapped the lid shut, and turned to face Jordan sharply.

“Thank you, My Lady,” Sloane smirked, curtsying shallowly. “You’ve been quite helpful.” She grabbed the tiny chest, and shoved it into a pocket sewn into the inside of her skirt.

Jordan stared at her slack jawed with confusion. Then, realization dawned upon her. “It was you! You were the one who was going to steal tonight.”

Sloane stared at the girl, head cocked in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

“I knew someone was attempting to steal tonight. But it should have been a man! An adult! You… You’re just a little girl.”

Sloane snorted. “Well, that little girl has places to be, and money to make. Get out of my way Jordan.”

“You used me,” Jordan spat. “I wanted a friend for the night, and you just wanted those jewels.”

Sloane rolled her eyes. “Don’t take it personally. If it makes you feel better, I didn’t completely lie about everything, I was pleased to make your acquaintance. You led me here, after all.” Sloane smirked. She was on top of the world. She was going to prove the world that she was good. She wasn’t just another useless pickpocket. That one day, she was going places. “Now get out of my way, and forget you ever met me. It’s easier for both of us that way.”

Jordan’s eyes narrowed. “I can’t let that happen.” She reached into the folds of her dress, and drew a long silver dagger.

“Put that back before you kill yourself,” Sloane scoffed.

“Try me.” Jordan was all hard edges now. Gone was the soft laughter, and gently smiles. She was completely serious.

Sloane was starting to think that Jordan was more than she had said she was. But it didn’t matter. No matter how good Jordan might be, Sloane would be better. She wasn’t ready to let herself be defeated by a noble. Not now, not ever.

Sloane darted forwards, quicker than lightning. She jabbed under Jordan’s stomach, knocking the wind out of the girl.

Jordan recovered quickly, and threw a punch towards Sloane’s face, grazing her cheek bone.

Sloane ducked under another blow, and kicked her legs out at Jordan’s face while flipping out of the noble’s hands.

Jordan knew what she was doing, Sloane would admit. In a fair fight, she may even stand a chance. But Sloane didn’t fight fair. She fought rough, and dirty. She survived, no matter what her actions were. That's where the two girls differed.

Sloane tackled Jordan, knocking them into a display case, the glass breaking under their weight.

“You aren’t getting away,” Jordan grunted.

Sloane laughed. “Keep telling yourself that,” she hissed. Sloane grinned, and leapt away from Jordan, right before the girl swung a punch towards her unprotected face.

Sloane backed away quickly, letting Jordan block the door.

“Nowhere to go,” Jordan taunted. “What’ll you do now.”

“My lady, it has been a pleasure,” Sloane said, bowing deeply. “But I’m afraid I’m needed elsewhere, and must call it a night.” In a single smooth motion, Sloane leapt out of the window, sending jagged shards of glass everywhere.

Jordan leapt forwards, too late to stop her.

Sloane had managed to catch a hold of the balcony on the next room over, and was quickly scaling down the wall, using ledges and decorative gargoyles as holds, Jordan’s silver dagger clenched between her teeth.

Sloane finally dropped to the ground, and waved up at Jordan standing far above. She slipped the stolen dagger into her waistline, and reached up into her skirt, pulling out the jewels.

The box was still shut tight, the contents rattling around inside.

“What the hell?” Elias screamed, running around the corner. “Locate them! You were supposed to locate them! We need to go, before the Duke realizes a child tried to steal his prize jewels.” He hooked his arm through Sloane’s and started dragging her away. “You aren’t ready to steal them. You ruined the job, for both of us.” He glared at Sloane. “You are taking blame for this. This is your failure.”

“Failure?” Sloane asked. “What do you mean? I got them!” She held out the box, rattling the jewels inside.”

Elias stopped dead in his tracks. “You got them? You actually succeeded?”

“Yes,” Sloane responded, her voice laced with annoyance. “I’m a good thief, a good fighter, a good liar. I’ve been trying to prove this to you all along. I did it. Will you recommend me to the elders now?”

Elias sniffed. “You are reckless, arrogant, loud. You are unable to follow simple instructions. But, you got it done.” He smiled slightly. “You impressed me, little thief. Well done.”

Sloane grinned. She cast her gaze back to the broken window one last time, where she could make out the shape of Jordan, still standing and staring at the two thieves.

Sloane bowed, as if she was on a stage, performing some great act. Then she hurried to catch up to Elias, and her future.

---

Lydia was furious with her mother, with Sloane, but mostly with herself. She had allowed Sloane to find the jewels, and couldn’t even stop her. Lydia was a failure.

But she wouldn’t be again.

Sloane may have bested Lydia once, but never again. She’d see the thief again, and Lydia would catch her, and prove to the world that she was more than just a lady, meant to sit and look pretty. She was strong, smart, and talented.

She’d catch the thief, and show them all who she was.

Not a beautiful noble lady, as her first name suggested.

No. Lydia had never felt right for a reason. It wasn’t who she was. She was Jordan, loyal to the country, and to herself.

She wasn’t anything but that.

Her name was Jordan, and she would catch Sloane, and make her hurt for giving Jordan a glimpse of a future she could never have. .

[robinrunsfiction]

Style

Pairing: Frank Iero x Female Reader Rating: Teen Requested By: None Word Count: ~3,900 Author’s Note: This is the first in a series of stories inspired by songs by Taylor Swift, this one of course being Style from the album 1989. I had intended on holding on to the series until I had all of them done, but I’m struggling to write... anything lately so I’m posting the two that I do have done. Full honesty, this story is one I originally wrote about two years ago for a different fandom and then modified for this challenge. I hope you enjoy.

The vibrating of her phone on the nightstand next to her woke her from her light sleep. She rolled over, bleary eyed, and checked the screen.

From: Frank Iero Message: hey

"Oh for fucks sake" she muttered to herself. She glanced at the clock, just before midnight, no surprise there. 'What's up?' She texted back. She set her phone down and rolled back over, willing it to stay silent.

Until it vibrated again.

'So you are up…' he replied

'Because you woke me up' she replied.

'Anyway, wanna come over?'

'Where's your girl tonight?'

They had an arrangement. They would only contact each other if they knew the other wasn't seeing anyone and they'd hook up, no strings attached. It had been working out pretty well for a few years now. They were each occasionally with a significant other for a while, him more usually than her, but nothing long term, so they weren't ever out of their routine for too long.

'She's gone' he replied.

'At the very least you come to my place' she replied back.

'Already on my way'

(YN) dragged herself out of bed and into the bathroom to check her reflection in the mirror before curling up on the couch and waiting for the doorbell to ring. About 20 minutes later, she had almost fallen back to sleep, when there was a knock. Trudging to the door, she opened to find that familiar face.

"Hey" she said, letting him in.

"Hey, glad you were up," he said with a smirk as he took off his coat and tossed it on the couch where she had just been sitting.

"I wasn't, remember?"

"But you are now," he said, taking a step toward her, putting his hands on her hips.

"Lucky you," she replied as she slipped from his grasp leading the way to her bedroom. Frank had hardly taken a step when she pulled off her tank top and flinging over her shoulder at him. 

It always amazed (YN) that no matter how long they may have been apart, they were always able to pick right up. She could remember exactly what to do to drive him wild, he remembered all the spots that she loved him to kiss and touch. 

When they both finished and were both lying back, catching their breath, he looked over at her and chuckled.

"What?" She asked with a laugh as well.

"I dunno" he muttered.

"So what happened with your girl?" She asked after a few moments of silence.

"Nice pillow talk, (YN)."

"Oh come on, you know how I am" she said rolling over onto her elbow to look at him.

"Nosey?"

“I was gonna say kind of a bitch, but I suppose that’s true too,” she said with a shrug and he laughed.

"She said I wasn't giving her the attention she deserved, so she found someone who could."

"So she starts dating a touring musician,  someone who everyone knows is busy as hell, and bails when he's busy as hell? What a bitch."

"Eh, it was fun while it lasted."

(YN) rolled her eyes. "If you say so."

"What have you been up to?" He asked.

"Ya know, the usual" she said with a shrug.

"Been seeing anyone?"

"Why?"

"Making conversation."

"Nah. Been on a few dates, but nothing worth the effort." She said rolling on to her back again. He then rolled onto his side and looked at her.

"What?" She asked again, with a sideways glance.

"Admit it, you missed me."

"Ugh, you are the worst."

"You know you did."

"I missed... parts of you" with that same sly grin from before.

"Well, let's get reacquainted again."

~

The next morning (YN) woke up with the sun streaming in around the blinds. She was glad she had the day off because Frank had kept her up late. She looked over at where he slept beside her, back turned to her and she couldn't help but smile fondly at his tattooed back. She pulled herself out of bed and slipped into the shower.

Frank woke up and didn't find (YN) next to him, but soon realized he heard the shower running. Even when he was with his ex, he missed coming over to (YN)'s place, or when she would stop by his house unannounced. They were friends first and foremost, but the physical chemistry between them was undeniable. Their agreement had been working so well for so long that he didn't dare say what he had been feeling for a while now.

He heard the shower shut off and a minute later she came back into her room with her plush towel wrapped around herself.

"Oh you're up" she smiled. She thought maybe he would have slipped out by the time she got out of the shower.

"Yea I just woke up. You gotta work today?"

"No, today's my day off. You?"

"We got a meeting this afternoon."

"Sucks to suck" she said with a grin, pulling on underwear from her drawer.

He laughed lightly as he got up from the bed and got dressed. She glanced over at him while pulling on her shirt. It looked like there was something on his mind, but she didn't know if she should pry. "Wanna get brunch? Your treat?" She asked with a grin.

"Sure," he replied with a laugh.

They headed to a diner down the street and ordered their meals and caught up a bit more since it had been a while since they had been face to face.

"I have to go to this bachelorette party for my coworker tomorrow after working all day." (YN) said, rolling her eyes. She was a hair stylist and knew she had a busy Saturday booked. After being on her feet for hours, she knew she'd rather just crash in bed than go out.

"If you don't wanna go, don't go."

"No, I'm gonna go, I don't just bail, but I am gonna hate it the whole time. I'll just have to get a good night of sleep tonight." She said, narrowing her eyes at her friend across the table.

Frank shrugged and put his hands up defensively. "You coulda told me not to come over."

"Oh, you and I both know that wasn't gonna happen."

"Again, you missed me."

"Stop projecting your feelings on to me" she said hitting his arm from across the table and he laughed.

"Anyway, I gotta get home and shower, let's get outta here."

Frank paid for their meals, and they walked back down to her building.

“Good to see you again, (YN),” he said as he turned toward his car.

“Welcome back to the land of living Mr. Iero,” she replied as she let herself into her building.

~

The next morning (YN) woke up without any text messages interrupting her sleep. She got out of bed, showered and got ready for her day. She had a full schedule that included two of her more difficult clients in the afternoon.

Thankfully the day went quickly, but by the time her last client was done she had a splitting headache. She knew if she wanted to leave Jenny wouldn’t hold it against her, but Susie who organized the bachelorette party for Jenny would never let her forget it. As she cleaned up her station, she heard champagne bottles popping in the back room and decided she could at least go to dinner if it involved champagne.

After pre-gaming in the back of the salon, the group headed out to dinner and (YN) found her patience growing thinner, and the drinks she was consuming weren’t helping. There were multiple conversations happening, but she found herself sitting back, wishing she was anywhere else at that moment.

 “(YN), you’re single, what’s up with that? You’re so pretty and feisty, I can’t believe you can’t find a guy who can put up with that!” One of her coworkers asked. She opened her mouth to reply to the back handed compliment, when Susie jumped in.

“I heard she’s got a friend with benefits!”

“Well yes Susie, you’re right! Because I don’t see the point in being in a relationship. I can get laid without all the unnecessary bullshit that goes along with it! Win-win!” She said taking a smug sip of her drink, relishing in the dumbfounded looks and glares being shot at her from her coworkers who were celebrating the idea of long-term commitment and romantic love.

She finished her dinner and glanced at the time on her phone, it wasn’t very late, but waved down the waiter and paid her check. As she left, she gave Jenny a hug and whispered an apology into her ear for her bitchy comment earlier.

“Don’t worry, I understand” Jenny replied with a smile.

(YN)'s uber was outside when she exited the restaurant. She gave the driver the address and rested her head against the cool window.

If she was to be honest with herself, she wasn’t completely opposed to the idea of a relationship, but she was really satisfied with where her life was, especially now that Frank was coming around again. He really was the best sex she had ever had, probably because they had been in each other’s lives for so long.

When she arrived at her destination, she breathed a sigh of relief that the lights in the living room were on and no other cars were around.

“I knew you’d turn up sooner or later, but I didn’t think it would be this soon” Frank said with a smirk when he opened the door.

“Are you gonna chastise me, or are you gonna invite me in?” She asked, rolling her eyes. He stood back and opened the door for her and she came in. The place looked the same as always, kind of cluttered with guitars and horror movie memorabilia all over the place.

“How was your party?”

“It was ok. I like my coworkers at work, much more than that, I’ll pass. They get real catty when they start drinking," she said flopping down on the couch. "I see you have a real exciting evening going on here.”

“Well it’s a good thing you came along to save me from it” he said sitting down next to her, putting his hand on her thigh.

“What can I say, it’s my super power,” she said, turning her body into his, putting her hand on his chest. He leaned in and they started making out. He ran his hand further up her thigh over her tight jeans, the other hand on her back pulling her closer to him. She ran her nails up the back of his neck, raking over his scalp sending goosebumps up and down his body.

He leaned back pulling her onto his lap, and she took the opportunity to pull her top off. He pulled her back down to kiss him, hand roaming over her back, easily undoing her bra and tossing it aside, as she ground her hips into his with an increasing urgency. He sat up and she pulled his shirt off and then raked her nails over his tattooed chest.

Moans and muttered curses filled the room until they both came. She fell forward onto his chest and he wrapped his arms around her. She was surprised at first by the affection of the action, but didn’t care because it did feel nice to be held like that. They stayed like that for a few minutes before she pulled back.

“I guess I should get goin' then” she said reaching down to gather her clothes from the floor.

“Why?” He asked. “I mean, we haven’t hung out in a while, just stay.”

She considered the offer. He had a point, they used to hang out much more. And it wasn’t like she had anything to do that night.

“Ok sure, but I’m still putting on some of my clothes," she retorted.

“You want something to drink?” He asked, getting up after pulling his sweatpants back on and wandering into the kitchen.

“Yea, I’ll take a beer” she said following him into the kitchen in just her bra and panties.

“That’s a good look,” he said, handing her a beer.

“Thanks, I was thinking this bra wasn’t getting enough appreciation for the hard work it does.”

“Well I for one would like to salute it. It truly is doing God’s work.” He replied with a wink.

They went back to the couch and sat on opposite sides while he picked a movie on Netflix. As the movie played, they talked about the party she had been at and some new songs he was working on. As the evening wore on, (YN) could feel herself getting sleepier from her long day. She felt her head getting heavy as she slowly leaned toward Frank.

She woke up the next morning still on the couch, her head was on this chest and his arms were wrapped around her. She didn't move, not sure of how to react to the position she was in.

They had been friends for a long time before that one night when they were at a party and someone suggested Seven Minutes in Heaven. (YN) had been a little worried, but also quite exhilarated when she realized her partner was Frank. They had both been liquored up enough to throw caution to the wind the second the door to the closet shut behind them.

Their lips crashed together, hands in hair and all over each other. The seven minutes passed too quickly, so when the attention of the party was off them and their disheveled state, they snuck off to another room to finish what they had started.

At that point in their lives, (YN) had just gotten out of a shitty relationship and had no interest in getting into anything else serious anytime soon, and Frank was fine with just having fun. She and Frank’s chemistry led them to hooking up a few more times before they officially agreed to do the friends with benefits thing. Over time she warmed back up to the idea of being in a relationship, but she didn’t actively pursue anything because she didn’t want to miss the opportunity to be with Frank. She always had felt jealous when he let her know he was seeing someone, but she was terrified of ruining things with him, so she never let on to how she felt.

Now as she woke up with his arms around her like that, it felt quite intimate, bordering on relationship-y behavior. Even if she did decide to risk it all with Frank, now wouldn't be the time as she'd just be a rebound, so in that moment she decided she just needed to back off for a minute and let things even out a little, and get back to normal.

"Hey," he murmured, waking up.

"Hey" she replied, pulling herself up from his arms.

"You want some coffee?" He asked sitting up and shuffling off to the kitchen.

"Yea sure" she said following behind him, sitting on a barstool at the counter as she watched him make the coffee.

"What are you doing today?" She asked. That voice in the back of her head nagged for even asking the question. They weren't a couple, they didn't just hang out every day they were free, why even bring up the topic?

"I'm gonna go down to record a few of those demos I was telling you about last night" he replied, pulling out a couple mugs. "But you wanna hang out later?"

"Nah" She replied, shaking her head. A concerned look crossed his face. He wondered what he had done as he handed her the mug.

"You got something better to do?"

"Frank, I'm gonna be straight with you, I'm not looking to be a rebound, you know that. That’s not what I signed up for.”

"I'm not trying to use you as a rebound! I just thought you’d want to hang out since it’s been a while. I don't want anything to change what’s going on with us," he lied. 

It wasn't completely a lie, he didn't want her to be a rebound, but he did want things to change between them, he wanted them to be more. He did want a relationship with (YN), that's why he never put effort into his other relationships, because they never were with her. But he didn't want to drive her away, so he kept being friends with benefits, so at least he could be with her in some way.

She considered what he was telling her, not completely believing him. "Mmk," she replied, taking a sip of her coffee.

“Can I at least give you a ride back to your place?”

“You're such a gentleman," she smirked. "But I’d appreciate it.”

~

Over the next few weeks, (YN) and Frank settled back into their usual routine for when they were both single. They would text regularly, stop by each other’s place to hook up at least once a week, and sometimes hang out if a group was getting together.

Once things had normalized between them, she started to stop worrying so much about whether Frank was using her as a rebound. She did notice though that he still was being more physically affectionate than he used to be, putting his arm casually around the back of her chair when they were sitting next to each other, holding her for a little longer after hooking up, she'd wake up sleeping against him. She realized that maybe she was keeping up the affection just as much as he was, but that didn't change the fact that she just didn't think they should be pursuing a relationship.

On a quiet Tuesday in the salon, Jenny and (YN) were the only two working and chatting about life between clients.

"(YN) , don't take this the wrong way, but I have to ask. Are you still just hooking up with your friend?" Jenny asked

"Yea, but it's good, it's fine! It's what we want to do, ya know? Like for a while I was worried that he was catching feelings, and sometimes I get jealous, but we're just having fun and we're good."

"Yea, but have you talked about it recently? Like you said it seemed like he was getting attached."

"We did talk about it, and he said he wasn't trying to rebound and I believe him, and things went back to normal."

"And what about your jealousy?"

"Damn Dr. Phil!" (YN) retorted. She was surprised at the intense line of questioning coming from her friend. She was even more surprised at the knowing smirk that was on Jenny's face. "What?!" She snapped.

"There's nothing wrong with being vulnerable! Let him crack that hard shell you have around you, I'm sure you have a soft, gooey center in there somewhere!"

"He's found my soft center plenty of times, he's very good at that actually." (YN) said with a wink, getting up to prepare her work station for her next client.

"(YN), ew! But just think about it. What honestly could be the worst that would happen?" Jenny called after her.

"I could lose him and everything we have," she muttered under her breath.

~

(YN) was crammed in a booth with Frank, Mikey, Gerard, Ray and a few others at the afterparty celebrating another sold out show. It had been a long night of partying, but (YN) was having a lot of fun since it had been a long time since she got to hang out with the whole band. She did notice that Frank had kept his arm around her shoulder for most of the night, but she decided to let it slide.

Eventually the group started to get pulled away into different conversations until (YN), Frank and Ray were the only ones left in the booth.

"Ray, that girl over at the bar has been tryna to eye fuck you for a while now. Are you gonna do something about it?" (YN) asked, as she drew their attention to the girl at the bar.

"I see that," he said, taking the last swig of his drink and sliding out of the booth. (YN) and Frank both laughed as he made his way over to her.

"What do you think his chances are?" She asked, taking a drink.

"Eh, probably pretty good, she does seem into him."

(YN) could feel Frank's eyes on her. "What?" She asked, turning to look at him. He reached up to her cheek and pulled her in to kiss him. She didn't protest as he deepened the kiss, but after a moment the voice in her head started screaming 'What are you doing? This isn't how you two act in public!'

"Frank, what are you doing?" She asked, pulling back.

"I don't know anymore, (YN). I... fuck..." he stammered.

She knew where this was going because she had felt it building for a while now. She grabbed her bag and slid out from the booth.

"(YN) , come on, don't leave like this." He said following her out of the bar into the cool night.

"Frank, what are you doing?" She said putting an emphasis on each individual word, as if saying it more clearly would somehow spark clarity in his mind. She looked up at him, his hazel puppy dog eyes filled with fear and frustration. After a long moment, he still hadn't replied so she turned leave when he reached out and grabbed her arm, pulling her back to him.

"(YN), I love you, ok? I fucking care about you and I don't give two shits about what we've agreed we're supposed to be, or what we aren't supposed to say. You are the reason none of those other relationships worked out. You're the one I always come back to, over and over again."

"Fucking hell man!" She shouted as she put her hands over her face. Her head was spinning. This was everything she had known deep down all along, it was all she wanted to hear for so long. But now that it was happening, she was panicking.

Frank took her wrists and pulled her hands away from her face, but she pulled her wrists away from him with a jerk, taking a step back and drawing in a deep breath.

"Ok, fine! I'm out of excuses. I've always had feelings for you too. Every time you tell me you have some girl you're seeing it made me so mad, and at first I didn't want anything more with you or anyone, but now I do and now I know you do too, so let's fucking do this Frank. I'm in. I love you too, goddamn it."

"You're mad that you love me?" He asked, laughing.

"Shut up" she said, pushing on his arm. He laughed again and took her face in his hands and placed a kiss on her lips with every ounce of passion he had been holding back for all the years and she wrapped her arms around his neck. When they separated, he took her hand and they went back into the bar to find Ray back at the table alone.

Even though he was dejected from his strikeout, Ray couldn't have been happier to see his plan to play Seven Minutes in Heaven all those years ago had finally paid off.

[soft-glitch]

Through Thick And Thin

Fandom: Sonic the Hedgehog

Type: hurt/comfort, platonic fluff

Word count: about 2700 words

Author’s notes: this year was a mess. But I’m grateful for a few things that happened to me in 2020. One of these things is getting into the Sonic fandom, which helped me find joy in being creative again. Another is a budding friendship with someone really cool, that I can only hope will last for a long time.

This fic is kind of a gift to that person for New Year’s Day. To everyone, but especially to you O, I wish a happy new year and many good things to come.

- - - - -

It was not an easy morning.

Shadow had always been an early bird. He never needed much sleep compared to other mobians, thanks to his bio-engineered origins. This was both a blessing and a curse, depending on the days.

Being able to stay up most of the night during missions proved useful more than once. On the other hand, when ugly thoughts would assail him and sleeping them away was not an option, well… It was suddenly much less interesting.

On this last day of December, the hedgehog could not shake uneasy feelings. Between Eggman’s plotting and his own personal issues Shadow always had rough times, but this year had been… a lot.

Walking silently in the empty corridor, careful not to wake up anyone in the household, the dark mobian reached the kitchen and started preparing hot chocolate. Since most of his friends knew about his sweet tooth he didn’t bother hiding it anymore, and Rouge always made sure they were stocked up on cocoa.

While waiting for the milk to warm, he glanced at the clock on the wall. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

The eerie calm of early hours often made Shadow slightly uncomfortable. Despite his introvert side enjoying the peaceful solitude, it was also a moment where his thoughts would simmer in his mind, either awoken by confuse dreams or simply emerging as the day started. He would often put some music or read a book to avoid thinking too hard about it.

Didn’t always work, though.

Taking a deep breath the hedgehog felt some relief at the sweet scent of chocolate. He took a small sip before moving to roll himself in blankets on the large couch. With a long and noisy yawn he reached for the remote and pointed it at the large TV screen in front of him. Maybe there was something nice to watch while waiting for his roommates to get up.

- - - - -

When Shadow opened his eyes again, sunlight was gently glowing through the translucent curtains of the living room. Which meant it was probably kind of late already. It seemed he fell back asleep at some point.

With a frown, he rubbed his dishevelled quills and took a look at his phone. Almost 11am, and no sign of Rouge or Omega... This was odd, especially since they planned on spending the New Year’s Eve together.

That’s when he noticed an envelope lying on the small coffee table, next to his now empty mug. It was plain kraft, with a small card inside that only offered an address and the words “At noon, don’t be late hun”.

Obviously from Rouge. She loved putting mystery and drama in everything she did. Shadow huffed and shook his head.

Irredeemable.

Did that mean his friends got up without waking him and prepared some kind of surprise? However silly it was, this simple envelope brought some warmth to the hedgehog’s heart. He got up to take a quick shower and prepare for the day, a small smile peeking at the corner of his lips.

- - - - -

The location was one Shadow didn’t particularly recognise, a small intersection in a popular part of the town. Since Team Dark lived in a suburban area and their job at G.U.N was usually all over the world, his knowledge of the city was lacklustre. Right as his phone displayed 12pm a text popped up on the screen.

Rouge Right behind the shoes store, a cafe.

The striped mobian rolled his eyes with a hint of amusement. Even for something as simple as a New Year between friends, the bat couldn’t help making some kind of fun game to play. Shadow would gladly proclaim it futile and childish, but he actually enjoyed these quirky adventures his best friend always peppered in his life.

What he saw next filled him with pure joy. Of course Rouge wouldn’t choose a random cafe to meet. She had to make it extra one way or another, and she just knew how to please him.

The Gentle Garden Chao Café & Flower Shop

Almost giddy at the idea of having some sweets surrounded by chao, the ultimate lifeform stepped into the small establishment. A quick glance around made him happy beyond words: soft muted lights and warm colours complemented vintage furniture, large potted plants adorned all sides of the place, and —most importantly— chao of every kind were all over the place, either walking, being cuddled by clients or sleeping on small pillows.

In the back of the room was a large counter, behind which a massive chalkboard displayed both the cafe menu and prices of various flower arrangements.

Before Shadow could go and talk to the barista, a familiar face caught his attention. Rouge was there, sitting nonchalantly and sipping some drink in the most ostentatious way possible.

The hedgehog smirked and sat in front of her.

“So...?” he started with a raised brow. “So what? Did you think I’d let you stay home for this special day?” Rouge huffed between two exaggerated sips. “It’s just New Year’s Eve, not an anniversary or something...” Shadow said, glancing at the table.

He realised an order of white chocolate cappuccino —his very favourite drink— and forêt noire —one of his favourite sweets— were set in front of him. For a second he felt something rise in his chest. A mix of gratitude and that odd yet pleasing vulnerability he could only feel with his closest friends.

“I know it’s just the new year.” the bat leaned on the table, her eyes both tender and serious. “I also know you haven’t been doing great lately. It’s been a difficult time, and of course it won’t magically be over as midnight comes, but...”

She looked in the distance, her eyes piercing through the windows and their cold winter lighting. Shadow could very clearly feel the bittersweet essence of her expression. This year had also been hard on her.

“We’re in this together, y’know.” she resumed, turning a gentle smile towards him. “And while I can’t resolve every problem we have, I can at least invite my emo bestie to enjoy some chao and indulge in sugary treats!”

The hedgehog chuckled at this, then raised his cappuccino mug. “Let’s have a good time, then. To us bitches.” he said with a knowing grin. “To us bitches!” she exclaimed happily. ”Now drink that ‘ccino, we have chao to cuddle.”

Some laughs and friendly banter later, two chao had found their way on Shadow. One was sleepily nested on his legs while the other was playing on his head, brushing his quills curiously.

“You really have your way with them, just like Omega...” Rouge remarked. She loved the little creatures very much, but she never seemed to attract them as easily as her two partners. No one really knew why and she honestly didn’t mind. It was fun enough to observe them from a distance: no risks of ruined haircut or having one mess with her wings.

“This is the best.” the hedgehog whispered, his voice full of emotion. His friend chuckled. Shadow was endearing in many ways, but his love for plants and creatures was unparalleled in an extremely wholesome way.

“Did you ever consider adopting one?” she asked before biting into her remaining pastry. Shadow’s expression became slightly somber as he looked at her. “I…” he sighed and scratched the sleeping one’s head. “I always wanted to, I guess. Even on the Ark, once we learned about them with Maria, we used to pretend having one. There was a plush, I don’t remember its name. We would play parents, bring it along for walks across the Ark, this kind of things.”

Rouge nodded sympathetically. Maria was less and less a sensitive subject as years went by, but Shadow was still defensive about these memories. Sharing them was one of the most intimate things he would do, and she felt honoured every time it happened.

“Maybe one day.” the hedgehog shrugged with a tired smile. ”Right now our lives are too dangerous. I can’t raise one properly as long as we keep fighting and going on missions Chaos knows where. – Let’s hope we get Eggman and his clique once and for all, then!” Rouge said with a grin. “Can’t wait to have you pester us with photos of your ugly little baby.”

The genuine laugh that followed made the bat beam with happiness.

- - - - -

The very specific atmosphere of New Year’s Eve was not lost to the two mobians as they strolled in the city. Streets were bustling with activity, but in a way that felt distinct from other winter holidays. The ambient anticipation was less frantic, almost… solemn. Instead of rushing for gifts and food, people seemed determined to enjoy the final hours of this year.

Shadow found it interesting, not without its charm. He was more used to strolls in mountains, lonely forests and small paths undulating through fields. The buzzing activity of the city was something else —very nice, though. Plus Rouge knew every neighbourhood surprisingly well, and offered him little fun facts and stories about all sorts of buildings and places.

“It’s a real shame we don’t get more free time between G.U.N and Eggman.” the bat lamented. “There are so many nice spots I’d love to visit with Omega and you. – We do have vacations once in a while.” Shadow replied. “Yeah, but they’re either ruined by some apocalyptic event or by an intense need for rest.” she sighed. “We can’t enjoy the Museum of Arts if we’re falling asleep every two paintings.”

The dark mobian nodded. Technically Omega and him didn’t need a lot of sleep, but being world-saving heroes brought its own kind of mental fatigue. Moments of calm and respite were too few and far between.

“Well. Next time we have some days off we’ll organise a Team Dark afternoon.” Shadow offered. “An exhibit or two, some games at the arcade. Maybe a small concert at a cafe. – Oh my. Hun, I’m impressed to see you take this kind of initiatives.” the bat replied.

The hedgehog gave her a friendly nudge. “Shut up, can’t let you make all the decisions. – I don’t see why not.” Rouge shrugged with a knowing smile.

They suddenly stopped. Without really realising it, the duo had reached the large avenue leading back to their house. As they exchanged a glance, Rouge winked. “Omega must be waiting for us. Let’s move!” she said cheerfully.

- - - - -

An immediate wave of relief filled Shadow as soon as they passed the front door. “Finally some warmth.” he sighed, removing his large coat and thick scarf. “I was expecting your lowered body temperatures.” Omega’s robotic voice answered from the kitchen. “Hot tea and biscuits are ready for immediate consumption. Made with love.”

Rouge snickered and Shadow repressed a chuckle.  Both knew Omega was absolutely unable to cook anything without setting fire to it, so the biscuits were probably store-bought. They still appreciated the gesture greatly.

Everyone gathered around the table, remembering stories about the now-ending year and its numerous developments. Adrenaline-filled fights, obscure investigations and exhausting assignments went alongside hilarious mistakes, glorious teamwork… and even celebratory moments with all the other heroes of Mobius.

“Okay, but the award for the best party of the year still goes to Knuckles’ surprise birthday.” Rouge said confidently while helping Omega put on a colourful crochet beanie. “Ughh please. Let’s not talk about it.” Shadow groaned, knowing exactly where this was going. “It was extremely fun. The fireworks accident made it over 200% better than any other celebration.” the robot insisted. “Oh right, I almost forgot about that!” the bat laughed. “Poor Knuckie, having to deal with a fire hazard on his cherished island…”

Memories of the furious echidna shouting frantically brought a grin to Shadow’s face. “But!” Rouge added, ”I mostly remember someone having a few drinks too much and— – NOPE!” the hedgehog exclaimed as he brandished his hands. “No talk of this specific event shall happen in this house. Ever.”

Omega tapped his fingers on the table as he eyed his smaller friend. “It is a shame I did not record it for ulterior viewing.” Shadow’s glare was so intense the former badnik recoiled slightly.

“Oh well, it’s all in the past now.” Rouge mused teasingly. ”Good times, good times...”

- - - - -

The closet was absurdly full of useless trinkets and Shadow was very, very close to “fix” it with a Chaos blast.

Of course he wouldn’t, knowing how preciously Rouge kept all those odd items from her past. Jewels, foreign souvenirs, postcards, old plushies, photographs… All her memorabilia was kept there, in a mismatched mess mixed up with cleaning supplies, spare beddings and various tools.

“They should be somewhere near the bottom!” the bat shouted from across the flat. The hedgehog growled, his eyes desperately scanning the clutter in front of him. Finally he found what he came for.

Fairy lights. The essential accessory to any LRCS —Living Room Camping Session.

Shadow walked back to the main room, where a drying rack and several chairs formed a structure covered by sheets and blankets. Omega was evaluating whether the improvised tent was big enough for him. “It is perfect, Rouge. We will be able to fit within the designated comfy area.” he said before crawling underneath the colourful construction.

The hedgehog carefully hung the string of lights around and inside the tent before plugging it. Rouge grabbed some snacks and scuttled against the large robot, who fiddled with the remote until a title screen showed on the TV.

“Are we really watching this?” Shadow asked hesitantly. “Shadow. We all know your inclination for romance between organic beings. Please come cuddle so we can start the movie.” Omega said. “Don’t tell me you suddenly decided to hate cheesy fiction, sweetie.” Rouge added. “I would rather perish than lose your snarky remarks and teary-eyed spee— – Alright, I get it, I’m coming.” the hedgehog replied with a frown. “This better be good, though.”

It was everything but good. Outbursts of laughter and incredulous stares followed one another as the movie —a romantic parody of the famous blockbuster Attack On Mobius— kept getting more and more absurd. Omega threatened to turn himself off as he struggled to find any reasoning behind what was happening, and Rouge almost choked on her pop-corn near the end of the second part.

When the credits started rolling, the three buddies snuggled together. The winter night cold was no match for a group hug and thick quilts. Shadow eyed his phone and hummed.

“It’s almost midnight. – Does that mean we have to prepare a wish?” Rouge asked in a sleepy voice. “We don’t have to.” the hedgehog replied, glancing at his two friends.

Has to be an odd sight, he thought. A haphazard team with so many differences, united by pure luck in a challenging world. Chilling together in a makeshift tent in the middle of a flat like nothing else mattered. He closed his eyes and took a moment to appreciate the warm feelings. Being surrounded by such amazing souls for whom he really mattered. Knowing all the affection and dedication hidden behind that seemingly cold name, “Team Dark”.

“I wished for a pony.” Both Omega and Shadow looked at their bat friend with tilted heads. “What? They’re cute, I dunno.” she shrugged with a shit-eating grin. “What would you guys wish for? – Dual plasma swords.” the robot replied. “Maybe I should ask Miles when we cross paths again.”

Rouge rolled her eyes, then shouted curse words as she realised midnight was mere seconds away. Omega startled, making the whole tent fall on the team. The striped hedgehog quickly covered his muzzle with his hands, trying to suppress an irresistible laugh. No matter how hard life was, no matter the obstacles in his way, one thing was certain as the year came to an end.

Friendship was all he could wish for.

[the-cult-of-russo]

Push and Pull (Part 17)

Pairing: Matt Murdock x OC

Warnings: cursing, angst

--------

Daphne walked down the street, soaking up the sun as she went. She left her hoodie at home for once, opting instead for high waisted skinny grey jeans with an off the shoulder tee and her usual boots. Her purple hair was once again thrown into a messy high ponytail, the fancy hair of the date from the night before now gone. She didn't have the time nor patience to make it look fancy. She’d tried to push most thoughts out of her mind about last night. She’d spent far too much time thinking about her little interactions with Matt and she didn't like it. Instead, she decided to stuff all of it in a box and bury it deep in the corners of her mind. 

She'd already been to see Brett that morning. She’d chewed his ear off for not telling her about Keiran waking up. He'd apologised and put all the blame on Matt. Matt had been truthful when he said it was his idea. He’d told Brett how they were all going out and Brett thought keeping it from her would be good for her. In his words, she didn't go out and have fun anymore. He’d reassured her though that even though the asshole was awake, he was still in no condition to leave the hospital. His jaw was wired shut too so he hadn't been able to tell them anything or answer questions. He'd refused to write anything down when they tried. It was one less worry. It meant the impending court case wouldn't be around the corner and she could live with that. But the nightmares had kicked back up and she knew they wouldn't fully go away until this was done and buried. The only temporary relief she found was the two times she slept with Matt. It itched the back of her brain, this innate need to go to him, to get her fix. But she refused to go crawling to him like that. If it happened then it happened. Spur of the moment like it had been the last times. Changing that would alter how things were with them and that just wouldn't work.

She wasn't planning on going to the firm. She didn't really want to see Matt and get whiplash from his moods. She never knew how to deal with him, he flipped on a dime. But Brett had asked her to go over with a case file since she was 'such good friends' with them. She obliged since it was on her way home. She'd be working on the case for Mrs Grimes today and seeing what leads she got. 

As she stepped into the building, she noticed it was devoid of clients today. Karen sat at the desk scribbling something in a pad and when she saw her, she stood up and hugged her.

"Hey!" She grinned. Daphne shot her a smile back with a nod. Now she was sober she wasn't as cheerful as the night before. But she really liked Karen. She'd woken to a text this morning from Karen saying she and Foggy had talked on the way home and they were now official. She was happy for them.

"Brett wanted me to play messenger," she snorted, handing her the case.

"Is that my new best friend?" She heard Foggy call from the side office. He appeared a moment later practically running to her as he hugged her. It was a huge bear hug and her feet stopped touching the ground for a moment. When he put her back down she noticed Matt standing in the doorway.

"I thought I was your best friend?" He huffed as he made his way to one of the many chairs in the room. He bumped into another no doubt for Karen's benefit of the blind man act. Foggy scoffed glancing over at him.

"Nah. I've been waiting this whole time to replace you. And now I found someone! She's basically you but she's actually cool," Foggy smirked. Daphne bit her lip to stifle a laugh as Matt looked offended.

"Okay guys, calm down. It's too early for me to be playing referee," Karen smiled fondly as she took her seat back behind her desk.

"What brings you here? Did you miss me or miss Matt?" Foggy grinned cheekily at her. She opened her mouth to swear at him before she remembered that she was supposed to have been on a date with Matt and Karen was right there. 

"I'm sure she missed me. Didn't you?" Matt smirked, sensing her irritation and discomfort. He held his hand out to her, sat there waiting for her. She pursed her lips, forcing a smile on her face as Karen looked at them with a grin. 

When she stood in front of him, she took his hand and he pulled her closer until she fell in his lap. She was sideways and had to hook an arm around his neck before she slipped right off. She had no idea what he was playing at going so hard with this. The plan was to make out like they decided dating wasn't working but he seemed to be enjoying annoying her. Maybe they were the same person. 

"I actually came by to bring you a case from Brett," she grouched when one of his arms snaked around her waist, the other hand resting lightly on her thigh. A quick glance to Foggy and she saw him beaming like his dreams were coming true. She wanted to hit him. This was all his fault. 

"A likely story," Matt smirked as he 'looked' at her. 

He was having too much fun messing with her. She needed to flip it back on him so she could leave. 

"You know what? I did miss you. Is that a crime, Mr Lawyer?" She asked sweetly, resting a hand on his chest as she nuzzled the side of his face. She heard him take a deep inhale, his arm tightening around her. 

"Just a misdemeanour, I can get you off easy for that," he whispered devilishly. It sent a tingle right down her spine and she mentally slapped herself out of it. Sensing eyes on her she looked over and saw both Karen and Foggy watching them with stupid smiles.

"What?" Daphne huffed, feeling her cheeks flame.

"You two are adorable. Team Maphne for life," Foggy laughed. Karen giggled covering her mouth a little. Oh how she wanted to say something. Send some sass his way. But she really did care about Foggy and doing that would only ruin his very new relationship.

"You two are the adorable ones. We need a ship name for them," she grinned, loving how they both got really shy when the tables were turned. She glanced at Matt and raised a brow. 

"How about… Koggy?" He asked with a laugh. She let out an elegant snort as Foggy made a noise of protest.

"Koggy?! What kind of name is that?" He asked indignantly.

"Because Maphne is any better?" She scoffed.

"Koggy is better than Faren," Karen giggled, looking at Foggy affectionately. 

"It's a great name!" Foggy grinned, changing his tune real quick.

"Wow, real smooth," Matt teased. The way she was sat he was right by her ear and she tried not to squirm as it tickled her.

"Alright, I gotta head out. Things to do, people to spy on and all that good stuff. Let me up," she demanded, smacking Matt's hand that was on her leg.

"Nah, I think you should stay," he smirked. She tugged the hair at the base of his neck and not lightly, making him hiss a little.

"Actually, before you go… there was something I wanted to talk to you about," Karen piped up hesitantly. All the eyes in the room seemed to turn to her.

"Alright, shoot," Daphne nodded. She guessed she'd be sat on Matt a little longer. She didn't necessarily mind it but it was causing that itch to jump his bones to get worse.

"So… obviously I work here and this is my real job. But I've been doing some stuff for the Bulletin. Investigative journalism and stuff. But I just wanted to know, since you're a PI and all… if maybe you'd teach me a few things?" She asked hopefully with a smile. 

Before she had a chance to answer, the boys piped up.

"Absolutely not," Matt said firmly at the same time as Foggy's mortified 'no'.

"What? Why?" Karen asked, frowning at them both. 

"Karen… what Daphne does is different. It's more dangerous and you shouldn't get involved," Matt stated seriously. Daphne noticed how his grip got tighter and she felt like she was in the middle of an argument that wasn't involving her against her will.

"You could get hurt," Foggy chimed in. 

"Come on! Not all her cases are that bad and besides, I'm already investigating stuff for the paper, so what does it matter?" Karen protested. Daphne tuned out the ensuing argument and felt herself getting annoyed. While she understood the boys wanted to protect Karen, they had no right telling her she couldn't do something. She was almost mildly offended that they acted like she was some bomb or something and she'd get Karen killed just by shadowing her a little. 

"I'll do it," Daphne said firmly. The argument seemed to stop completely and Karen beamed at her.

"Really?" She asked hopefully. She felt Matt go completely tense and she shoved his arms off her and stood up.

"I actually start a case today. It's not dangerous. The client wants to know if her husband's cheating, she wants proof in case he tries to divorce her and take everything. I'm just doing some recon today. Surveillance, maybe some hacking," she explained. Karen’s eyes seemed to light up when she mentioned hacking.

"Could you teach me that?" She whispered excitedly, like the others wouldn't hear.

"I can teach you some stuff. Nothing that will get you in too much trouble," she snorted. 

"Hang on a minute-" Foggy started, but Daphne whirled to face him with a face like thunder. It promptly shut him up.

"Karen, could I have a minute with these assholes?" She asked politely. Karen bit her lip to stop a smile as she nodded. 

"Yeah. I was thinking of going to the coffee shop down the street anyway since our machine crapped out,” she scurried out, no doubt knowing what Daphne was about to do. 

There was a tense pause in the room after Karen left and Matt was the first to break it.

"What the hell were you thinking?!" He bellowed, standing up and glaring her way.

"You shut up!" She yelled at him, pointing a finger in his direction. His mouth clamped shut not expecting her to be this mad. But then she turned to a frightened looking Foggy. 

"And you! You've been in a relationship with her for less than 24 hours and you're just bossing her around? What is with you two? You want her safe? That's great! But guess what? Investigating isn't all safe and not knowing what you're doing is the quickest way to get in deep shit! If I teach her some things, I can make sure she covers her tracks and she doesn't make any rookie mistakes. Or would you rather she fucked up because you two decided to be goddamn dictators?!" She fumed at them, glancing from one to another. Matt bit his lip, jaw ticking and he lowered his head. Foggy just heaved a sigh.

"You're right. I didn't think about it like that. I know she loves this whole Bulletin thing and she won't let it go. But like you said, if you teach her at least it'll be safer," Foggy relented apologetically.

"You've got to be kidding me," Matt scoffed as he walked over.

"What else do we do, man? At least this way she actually knows what she's doing. And it's a safe case, right?" Foggy asked as he glanced at her. She understood he was worried about Karen and it was sweet but he couldn't just control what she did or didn't do.

"It's safe. Just a typical affair case," she nodded reassuringly.

"Right, like Mr Lee's simple affair case?" Matt asked tensely. It felt like all the air got sucked out of the room and even Foggy frowned at him. 

"Foggy, why don't you catch up with Karen and make things right?" Her voice was tight and low and Foggy took the hint. He shot Matt a glare before he left. She turned to face Matt who was glaring in her direction, his mouth set in a grim line. 

"I always thought I was petty but you always seem to make me look like a Saint," she fumed. He lowered his head and sighed.

"Daphne-"

"Go fuck yourself. You want Karen to go out there investigating with no real tools or knowledge, then be my guest. But when she's been taken by the Chinese or dumped in a goddamn river by the Italians because she poked her nose where it shouldn't be and didn't know how to cover herself, don't come crying to me!" She growled as she stomped her way to the door.

"Don't walk away!" Matt called after her. His voice was a mixture of anger and desperation. She clenched her jaw as she turned to look at him.

"I shouldn't have said that. I know I'm an asshole. But I don't want Karen to get mixed up in this," he pleaded. 

"She's already mixed up in it, Matt. She was the moment Fisk went after her. I'm just looking out for a girl so she doesn't get herself in trouble. You can't just lock her in a cage," she muttered tensely. He seemed to actually take her words in as he deflated.

"You ever use Mr Lee or my attack against me again, you'll find yourself all over the papers as everyone reads who you really are," her threat was laced with venom and it hung in the air. Matt laughed mirthlessly, looking incredulously at her.

"Wow… is that how it is?" He muttered with a strained voice.

"Doesn't feel nice does it? When people hold things over your head like that? I put up with a lot of shit from you, and yeah sometimes I deserve it. But I won't put up with someone purposely hurting me, putting salt in my already raw wounds," she seethed. He looked taken aback for a moment before he looked upset, taking a step towards her. He opened his mouth to say something but she cut him off.

"We don't like each other yet for some reason I tell you things I don't even tell Foggy or Brett. I tell you about my nightmares, about my fears around the court case. I've shown you some of my most vulnerable parts of me and you spit in my face. I won't let you use it against me," she hissed. He'd really hit a nerve with his cruel words and she felt like the weight of the world was crushing down on her. For all of his assholery, she really didn't think he'd hurt her like that.

"I'm sorry," he lamented, taking off his glasses and looking her way imploringly. 

"Are you? Or are you just going to do it again and again?" She asked, defeated. He shook his head vigorously as he took another step her way.

"I fucked up, okay? I get… I get scared when I think about something happening to Foggy or Karen, and you just...  I felt backed into a corner and I lashed out at you. You didn't deserve it," he sounded genuinely sorry and she chewed the inside of her cheek. His moods were draining and she heaved a sigh. 

"Goodbye, Matt," she murmured before slipping out the door. 

Everytime she felt like they made progress in tolerating each other it felt like they took ten steps back. How could they go from playful teasing each other and pushing buttons to this? It had really cut her deep when he said those words. It cut her deeper than she felt comfortable with. Like she said, she'd told him things she hadn't told anyone else, opened up to him despite their weird relationship. And it felt like smack in the face that he'd say that to her. She needed space from him. It felt like she saw him all the damn time these days and it was starting to give her a migraine. She believed his apology. He sounded sincere and she could see it in his eyes. She believed that he just wanted his friends to be safe, especially since he knew all too well the horrors of Hell's Kitchen. But it didn't take back the hurt she felt in that moment. That he'd cut her so deeply for someone else even though she was only trying to help. 

She ended up at Fogwell's gym. The place was deserted, not a soul in sight as she walked in. She hadn't even meant to come here but her feet just carried her there. It felt weird being in here without Matt, but he was the last person she wanted to see. She didn't want to get too caught up with his bullshit. He'd said sorry and she wanted to forget it happened. Maybe avoid him for the rest of her life. 

She ended up taking her rage out on the boxing bag. She didn't think about her form or technique and she didn't have Matt there to lecture her about it. It was just pure pent up aggression and she needed it gone. She spent hours there until she was spent, her muscles crying out at her to stop. She was exhausted. Mentally and physically. Her life seemed to have gotten so much more complicated since she met the lawyers. 

The way home seemed to take forever with her aching body and it was only just turning evening. But she needed to start her work on the Grimes case, so she forced herself up the stairs in her apartment building. She was surprised to see Karen sitting outside her apartment on the floor waiting.

"Hey!" She grinned, standing up and brushing the dust off her pants. 

"Didn't think you'd show. Figured Matt would lock you up or something," she muttered tiredly. Karen gave her a concerned look.

"I spoke with him. Thank you… he really seemed to listen to what you said. It's nice to have someone on my side for once. He said he was sorry and he trusted you to keep me safe," she replied softly. 

Daphne just nodded, not wanting to hear about the vigilante at the time. Karen seemed to sense her mood.

"Uh… come in. I'll set up the laptop," she sighed, unlocking her door and letting both of them in. She led Karen to the sofa and she grabbed her laptop, the pair sitting together as she booted it up.

"So what are we doing?" Karen asked eagerly. 

"I want to get into his computer. I want to see his emails, including any secret accounts he has. I also wanna check his files. We're looking for anything about him cheating on his wife," she explained. She brought up her hacking software, fingers clicking on the keys as she got everything ready. 

She went through it carefully with Karen. Showing her how to use the password cracking software and remote access. Karen diligently took notes like an eager student, constantly asking good questions and Daphne was impressed. It took an hour since she was doing it slowly to really make sure Karen was following along and understood how to do it, but then they were finally into his computer. 

"First up, emails. You'd be surprised at how these CEO types just don't cover their tracks when it comes to their emails. I swear, they think they're untouchable," Daphne snorted. Karen shook her head with a grin as she leaned in next to her to view the screen. Daphne really thought she'd need to find a secret account or something to hit the goldmine. It wouldn't have been that hard to do and she fully anticipated it. But apparently it wasn't needed.

"Oh my god," Karen whispered, looking at one of the emails they'd found. They'd come across emails that referenced past rendezvous with his PA and some others at his work, but now they were staring at a picture of the dude balls deep in his PA in his office.

"Tell me about it," Daphne grimaced. She took a screenshot of it as she had with the other things she'd found, sending it straight to her wireless printer.

"Poor Mrs Grimes," Karen frowned, leaning back a little with a sigh as Daphne looked through more emails.

"I don't think she's too cut up about it. She was more concerned with him trying to take her money than him actually cheating," Daphne said with a shrug, trying to ease her mind a little.

"I really hope I never get that old and jaded with love," Karen scoffed.

"I'd say the same but I'm pretty sure I'm already there," she smirked, earning a bump to her arm from Karen with a chuckle. They spent some more times combing through the emails. There weren't any more pictures but emails from other women talking about meeting up or past meetups, some escort service receipts and some emails of him talking dirty. Mrs Grimes had been right about him and his PA and also in her assumption that there were more. He seemed to be fucking a few ladies at his company. 

"What do you think we should do next?" Daphne asked with a glance next to her. 

"Uh… his files, right?" Karen replied hesitantly. Daphne nodded, pleased with her answer. It wasn't like Karen hadn't ever snooped before but she was new to that part of things and she wanted to make sure if it ever came to it she'd go looking in the right places. 

Daphne was poking around in his files when she found a folder labelled 'honey'. It piqued her interest enough that she clicked on it.

"Holy shit,  jackpot," she breathed, sitting up a little better and squinting at the screen.

"This guy is just…" Karen muttered as she scrunched up her face. There were hundreds upon hundreds of pictures of him engaging in various sexual acts with plenty of women. He seemed to have a penchant for capturing his little escapades on film. Daphne plonked the laptop in Karen's lap for a second, jumping to her feet as she went over to her small desk in the corner of the room. She rummaged in the drawer before grabbing a new memory drive. Printing that amount of pictures would be time consuming and wasteful. She'd just give the drive to Mrs Grimes. 

When she sat back down, she grabbed the computer and pushed in the drive, dragging the folder onto it. A little bar popped up saying that it was copying them over. 

"This seemed easy," Karen stated. She sounded a little disappointed and Daphne snorted as she looked at her.

"I know. The rich normally leave clearer trails when it comes to this. Honestly though, the amount I'm getting for this case, I'm not gonna complain. I thought I'd have to do some surveillance at the least," she explained. It had been ridiculously easy but it was kind of nice to work a case that solved itself so simply and she hadn't even needed to leave her apartment. 

"I guess Foggy and Matt will be happy," Karen smirked ruefully. 

"I guess they will," she replied, unable to even try and keep the tense tone from her voice. Daphne set the laptop down on the coffee table while it transferred the files to the device. Karen took a deep inhale as she looked at her and Daphne just waited to her to press about the whole thing more. 

"We're friends, right?" Karen asked softly. That one caught her off guard and Daphne moved to sit sideways to face her and Karen mirrored her action.

"Yeah," she replied. She hadn't known the girl long but they got on really well and she enjoyed her company more than she thought she would. It was also fun that she loved to snoop as much as her. Karen pursed her lips thoughtfully, her fingers absently picking at her pants.

"You and Matt aren't okay, are you?" She asked, sounding guilty. Daphne felt a little bad that she thought it was her fault after the scene from earlier but maybe this was a good time to follow the original plan. To say they didn't work out so they could leave that behind. 

"No, we're not. But honestly… our thing has always been a little tense and complicated. I guess we just clash too much. It'd never work," she said honestly. The thing in her mind was them being friends or even people who could be around each other without wanting to scream. 

Karen looked genuinely forlorn at the news and Daphne looked away from her. She didn't think the whole white lie of the date would have been a big deal but now she was friends with the woman, she found herself feeling guilty about it. 

"Matt's been different since he met you. He talks about you a lot and seems distracted quite a bit. I know he can sometimes get… intense, but… whatever it is between you two, he seems to feel quite strongly about it," Karen murmured thoughtfully. Daphne couldn't help the scoff that left her lips as she shook her head. He did feel strongly about his very clear dislike and mistrust of her. 

"I'm serious! I'm just saying… maybe don't give up completely on him. He's been through so much and he always seems like he has the weight of the world on his shoulders. I want him to be happy, he deserves it. And I think he'd be happy with you," Karen was so sincere and Daphne licked her lower lip as she glanced at the wall. She couldn't tell her the truth about it all so she couldn't understand just how wrong she had it. Then she'd know Foggy lied to her and know the truth about Matt. 

After her awkward silence, Karen shot her a sad smile.

"I'm sorry. I'm prying and I shouldn't," she frowned.

"No. It's fine. It's just… really fucking complicated. Sometimes I'm around him and I feel like I can just open up, you know? But then other times he's just… he's a complicated guy and half the time I don't know which version of him I'm getting. Honestly, it's draining," Daphne muttered with a sigh. Some vague truth that she could work around. Karen let out a small chuckle and nodded.

"He's definitely complicated. Sometimes it's like he purposely complicates things because he doesn't think he deserves to be happy. It's like he just subconsciously sabotages himself," she sighed. 

Daphne honestly agreed with her even though she knew it wasn't so much the case with his strained relationship with her. But she could see how much of a martyr Matt was and how he would deny anything that made him genuinely happy. Maybe that's why he always had such a stick up his ass. 

A little ding from her laptop finally eased them from the uncomfortable topic and Daphne ejected the memory drive, standing and getting the Grimes case file. She put in all the things they'd printed off and cellotaped the USB drive to the inside of it. She stuffed it into her backpack and decided she'd go see Mrs Grimes in the next few days with her findings and see if there was anything else she wanted her to do. She almost felt like she hadn't earned all the money and it made her feel weird. 

"You know, we could use someone like you at the Bulletin," Karen grinned playfully from the sofa. Daphne glanced back at her with a snort.

"Journalism isn't really my thing. But if you need help with finding something out I wouldn't mind helping you," she said softly. She didn't even like reading the papers if she was honest. Karen grinned with a nod in understanding.

"Can I ask you something? Off the record," Karen asked curiously. Daphne quirked a brow, turning around to lean against the desk and face her.

"Go for it," she shrugged.

"You work with Daredevil sometimes, right?" She asked tentatively. Daphne's eyes widened a little and she looked away. She had no idea how she'd know that. Only Brett and Foggy would know.

"The Chinese trafficking ring… I covered that story for the Bulletin. When I questioned detective Mahoney about it I knew he wasn't telling me the full truth. I pressed him a bit and he told me you and Daredevil were the ones who did it and the cops were just back up," she explained sheepishly. A scoff left Daphne's lips, she couldn't believe Brett would just go handing out her information like that.

"He only told me because I promised to keep it out of the story. It would put a huge target on you and I wouldn't do that. Plus, he knows how I feel about Daredevil," Karen murmured.

"How do you feel about Daredevil?" Daphne countered, glancing at her curiously. Karen smiled a little, tilting her head.

"He saved my life. And I think he does good for this city," she replied. Daphne nodded, chewing her lower lip at the uncomfortable line of conversation.

"He does," she agreed carefully. Karen was quiet for a moment, shifting in her seat like she wanted to say something. Daphne knew before she spoke what was coming next.

"Do you know who he is? Like really is, under the mask?" She asked tentatively. Daphne tried not to let her discomfort show. Lying to Karen was starting to really bother her and she understood now why Foggy hated doing it too. But she wouldn't tell her. It wasn't her place, her secret to tell. She just didn't know why Matt hadn't told her already. She was clearly a supporter of Daredevil and even though she would be upset with the lies, she'd get over it eventually. 

"No, I don't. Honestly, I think it would be more trouble than it's worth if I did," a lie wrapped in the truth. She knew how much trouble it was because she was living it. She wondered how different her life would currently be if she'd never found out. He was an asshole the first time they met when he donned the mask and suit, but that was because of her snooping in what he deemed to be his turf. But it really began once he knew that she’d figured out who he was. She wondered if he'd treat her any different if that had never happened. She understood how he lashed out at the beginning, it was understandable back then. This stranger, a PI no less, knew his biggest secret. One that could get him locked up or killed along with his friends. But she felt like they'd moved past that point. Proved she could be trusted with that. Yet it always seemed like it was in the back of his mind with how his moods switched on her. Like he'd be okay with her until he remembered she posed a threat in his mind and then he'd get defensive. 

"I guess I'm just curious really. I wonder who he is in the day. What does he do, what's he like," Karen snorted softly. 

"Probably an asshole, honestly," Daphne retorted absentmindedly. Karen giggled and shook her head, making her smile. 

"Probably," she agreed playfully. They thankfully moved on from that topic and just spoke about menial random things for a while. Karen picked her brain about some cases and asked her a lot of tips and tricks writing down all the answers. By the time it was time for Karen to leave, it was dark outside. Daphne had refused to let her leave unless she called a cab to take her home. She walked her downstairs and waited with her until the cab pulled up to reassure herself she was safe. It wasn't even just for Foggy and Matt's sake. She really did like her and she didn't want something bad to happen to her. She already had a spotty past with her involvement with Fisk and now she was poking around as a journalist. No matter what the guys said, Karen's job was actually more dangerous than hers in a lot of ways. Daphne did her thing behind the scenes, keeping herself a secret as much as she could. Karen was posting stories with her face and name attached to them. It was risky. 

Karen stopped before getting in the cab, muttering something to the driver before taking another step back towards her.

"I know you don't wanna talk about it and I promise this is the last thing, for now at least...but last night at the date, when we all hugged and said goodbye, I told Matt something. I didn't want you to hear it obviously. I really thought you two would work out. But now it's all gone to shit, I figured I'd tell you. Maybe it… helps somehow. Changes your mind or something," Karen murmured carefully. She looked almost hesitant and Daphne looked at her apprehensively. She wasn't sure where this was going but she remembered the whispered exchange the pair had and her curiosity about it. Now she was wondering if she even wanted to know at all. Taking her silence as acquiescence, Karen continued.

"I told him how much I really like you. That I thought you were a keeper. You want to know what he said?" She asked seriously. Daphne wasn't sure she did and didn't think it mattered since the double date had been a giant lie and scheme for her and Foggy to be together. He no doubt just lied. 

"He told me that he can't seem to keep hold of good things in his life. That people always leave. And I get it, I'm not blaming you for wanting to walk away if he's being an asshole. He's my friend and I care about him but so are you. But he thinks you're a good thing in his life and honestly… I think maybe he's lashing out because he thinks you'll leave him anyway. So he's getting to it first before you can hurt him," Karen said softly. 

Daphne wasn't sure what to make of that. She wanted to say it wasn't true but from what she knew of Matt, that kind of 'pushing people away before he got hurt himself' thing lined up with him. It was the same kind of thing she did. But at the same time she couldn't even fathom that Matt considered her to be a good thing in his life and she couldn't even tell Karen that without admitting she knew Daredevil's real identity. On how much he saw her as a threat to his life and friends. How he most likely only kept in touch with her so he could keep a watchful eye. 

"I'll keep that in mind," Daphne said with a weak smile. Karen seemed pleased enough and gave her arm a quick squeeze before she climbed into the cab. Daphne watched it drive away and rubbed her temples. She longed for her old simple life. When it was just her and her job. No stress or feelings involved, no drama. But there was still that part of her that knew she'd miss it now. Miss Foggy and his bright smiles and his stupid jokes. Miss talking to Karen and the girl talk. She'd even miss the playful version of Matt she'd met a few times even though it was rare. This was why she'd sheltered herself for so long. It was fucking exhausting.

When she got back inside of her apartment, she heaved a sigh as she made her way back to her couch and lay on her side. Awkward topics and avoiding lies aside, she liked Karen's company. Her and Foggy were easy to be around because she knew where she stood with them. They didn't go bipolar on her like Matt did and she didn't struggle to figure out what was going on in their head. They were easy to read. It didn't suck the life out of her being around them. But she also knew that she couldn't completely avoid Matt and also be friends with them. They were his friends first and he worked with them. And unfortunately for her, both Foggy and Karen seemed to think she and Matt should try with each other. They really didn't get it. Karen less so since she didn't know the full story. She tried not to dwell on Karen's parting words too much. She hated that she'd given her a logical explanation for Matt's mood swings. But at the same time it wasn't logical because she couldn't believe he actually cared about her in any way, not even as a friend. As much as Daphne didn't want to sleep, the impending nightmares making her head spin, she was absolutely drained and ended up slipping to sleep curled up on her sofa anyway. 

[btsslowburnfic]

BTBY Chapter 5

Series Summary: For Namjoon, the moment he set his sights on being the #1 rapper, he pushed the symbol to the side and hated it. Love should be chosen, not forced on you. He didn’t believe in fate and this mark on his wrist was a big “fuck you” to all that.

Chapter Summary: Practice Day 2. There’s some electricity in the air.

Previous chapter found here 

The morning goes as normal as it can for you. The studio is a little hectic with the extra clients from Robert’s studio but everyone is very cool about the changes.  You teach 2 yoga classes and sub out pilates. You decide to watch the BTS interviews while in your office; purely for professional purposes. Clearly. You hear a knock on the door, “Come in!” you yell as you scoop more oatmeal into your mouth. It’s Xavier.

“Hey babe,” he says carrying coffees.

“You are the best!” you yell from your desk. He looks over at the TV. 

“Oh yes, I like this.” he says as he watches the performance.

You laugh, “Oh my God you brat.” you walk to the other side of the desk and grab the iced coffee. “But...I’m not complaining either.

“Are you coming to my class?” he asks, stretching as he sits his drink on your desk.

“Yeah, my arm feels better, I’ll just baby it.” 

“Is lunch catered today? I can’t remember.”  he continues to do some warm up stretches.

“No. BTS is having lunch on the set of their last show so we’re on our own. Let’s get something delivered to Robert’s. We have to head there right after your class to meet the backup dancers. What do you want? I’ll schedule it now.” 

“What’s for dinner?” he asks.

You pull up the catering order “It looks like a Korean/Italian/American blend. I think each guy just  said what they wanted. There is no theme to this menu,” you laugh.

“Just order some burritos. Get one for Rafael too. And Joe. He might stop by.”

“Oooo your boyfriend and your bias in one place? Are you going to be able to handle that much sexiness?” you joke as you start typing in the food order.

He laughs, “ Honey please, Joe sat down with me last night and we watched like a hundred of their videos, why else do you think he’s going to stop by? Anyways. Enough about me…...Any updates on YOUR soulmate front? Did you tell Ben? Bribe a hotel staff member?” Xavier asks.

You audibly groan. “No,no, and I’m poor, what the hell am I gonna bribe someone with? Free Pilates class? I don’t think there’s going to be much to update considering my soulmate clearly doesn’t want anything to do with me. And I haven’t told Ben. If I tell him I’d want to do it in person and I haven’t seen him yet.”

“What do you mean, “if”?”

“We agreed that we didn’t care about that thing when we started dating.” you shrug.

“Can’t we try and solve the mystery though?!?! You tracked him down to the hotel. Maybe we can go stake out the lobby or something….”

“That probably means he’s visiting from out of town and I’m never going to see him again. And we have a packed day. Dance class, set up the studio while we shovel burritos into our faces, and then rehearse with the back up dancers, and then rehearse with everyone.” You pack your half-lies into the truth about your full day. And you feel a little guilty. Maybe you should tell him. Maybe. Fuck it.

“Annnndddd I sort of already found out who it is?”

“WHAT?! WHAT WHAT WHAT!?!?!?! How? Did you go spy without me!??!?! How you dare (how you dare how you dare)” he gets distracted for a second breaking out into song. “But seriously, WHAT?!?!”

You are suddenly very sweaty and nervous as you try to form the words…”It’s uh...someone in BTS.”

“WHAT WHAT ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?!” he grabs your shoulders, coming face to face with you. “Are you being serious right now or are you fucking with me?!”

“Unfortunately I am being serious.”

“That means one of them is secretly an asshole...which one of them could it……” he trails off for a second, lost in thought, “Holy shit it’s RM isn’t it??!?!” he whispers dramatically as he pieces together the awkwardness of yesterday.

Your silence and scrunched up face confirm it.

“Holy shit.”

“Yeah.”

“WOW”

“Yeah.”

“But he’s so nice and cool.”

You sigh, “Yeah to you and everyone else. Apparently he hates the whole “soul mate” thing on principle which is fine by me. I just need to get through these next few days and then we can part ways and continue on with our lives as normal.” you say. Like it’s the simplest thing in the world. If only. Xavier’s alarm goes off signaling 15 minutes to class.

“Well, way to drop a bomb on me right before class darling.” he jokes as he gathers up his phone and studio keys.

“I know, right? How do you think I felt walking into our meeting or that car yesterday?” you also gather your belongings. “36 more hours. Let’s just get through this.”

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

The backup dancers all arrive on time and are prepped and ready. They run the dances several times through with Xavier. All of you had rehearsed a few times last week after Xavier’s dance class so the only real challenge today would be to run it with the group. You were glad you had got most of the dancers you requested; they were professionals who wouldn’t act like a bunch of idiots in front of famous people. Unlike Xavier. Who kept checking his watch.

“Are they here yet? I wanna see….” he says, peering down the hallway.

“Oh my God, it’s been ten minutes since you last checked. They are on a tight schedule and not supposed to be here yet. And see what?”

“The sparks of attraction and forbidden romance between you and RM.”

“Ew. No. Get away from me.” you shove him back into the studio. “And stop saying things, people might hear you. We are taking this shit to the grave.” you pull him close to you “TO THE GRAVE.” you hold up your pinky for a promise.

“Nope. I’m not promising shit.” he says and hops over to the console to talk to Rafael. 

Dammit. Oh well. At least one of you was enjoying this. You thought telling someone else would give you some relief, but so far it had just done nothing. If anything you were more nervous today because you’d had time to anticipate what this evening and tomorrow would be like. Ughhh. You go down to the kitchen and grab some coffee and graham crackers. You scroll through your phone enjoying the brief moments of silence before you go back upstairs and find your mind wandering to RM dancing yesterday and you feel your face flush.  You wish you could stop yourself but like with most things, the more you try not to think about them, the more you do. Dammmmit. You make sure light snacks and beverages are set up for the backup dancer break and head upstairs to relieve them for an hour. 

“Ok everyone! You have about an hour break. Please stay on premise. There are snacks and drinks on floor one as well as your green-room. Remember, if anyone takes pictures or recording once the band gets here, you are fired. This time it is written explicitly in our contract with them, got it?” you hear a bunch of “yeah’s” from the crowd. Like you said earlier, these were professionals in LA, they knew the drill. “Ok, I will come get you all when it’s time to rehearse again. Break.” you say, dismissing them.

“They look really good, great job Xavier,” you say as you walk over to the front of the room.

“Thanks! I can’t wait to see it all together.” he responds. “What do you need help with?” 

“I just have to get the lav mics set up again but they’re ready from yesterday You’ve been dancing for hours so why don’t you go grab some water?” you say.

“Okie dokie doll. Come grab me when you need me,” he says as he picks up his satchel and heads downstairs.

“Rafael, do you need anything?” you ask your other coworker.

“Me?Nope. Just looking forward to the group getting here so I can do more than just look pretty.” he smiles at you.

“You know what, same?” you laugh. 

“Do you need anything from downstairs?” he asks as he steps down from the booth.

“No, I’m fine, thanks!” You wave him away as you get the room reset in preparation for the group’s arrival. You put on some BTS music while you clean up random water bottles and towels. 

You are in your own zone singing along when you look up and see RM standing in the doorway and you give a light shriek. “Shit fuck. Sorry. You scared me.” You scurry over to the console and turn the music off.

“Nice taste in music,” he smirks at you.

“Thanks, just doing my research. You’re here early.” you say double checking your watch. 

He fumbles with his hands and seems way less confident than usual and you instantly wonder what the heck is going on. He seems so much different from yesterday, “Yeah. They'll be here soon. I just, uh. Wanted to talk to you. Now that I've had time to kind of process everything. "

"Oh. " you are extremely shocked. 

" I just want you to know that I don't dislike you. You're a great producer and you seem like a really nice person. Anyone would be lucky to have you as their soul mate. I'm just not into… that." he says as he looks mostly down and off to the side. 

You take a deep breath. This is not what you were expecting today. "Well thanks a lot. I appreciate it. Like I said, the whole thing is kind of weird and shitty for me too. You're a cool dude and you know, famous and hot, but I'm also not into the whole destiny thing. And apparently you’re not a total asshole." you agree as you continue to pick up the room. You hear him chuckle," What? "

"You think I'm hot,"

"Oh shut up, I'm sure you hear it all day, everyday from the internet." you tease as you wrap up the garbage bag." Here, I'll unlock your guys’ dressing room for you." you lead him down the hallway. "Can I grab you anything from the kitchen while you wait?” 

"No thanks, I'm going to read for a bit and yeah they should be here in about half an hour" 

You stand in the doorway for a minute to make sure everything is set up for the arrival. You suddenly become extremely aware of the fact RM is still standing right behind you in the doorway. “Ok well, I’ll bring the other up when they get here.” you feel your face blushing as you brush past him. It feels like you just got zapped by electricity. You ignore it and head downstairs to clean up after the backup dancers.

The rest of the afternoon goes according to plan with the group arriving and practicing solo again, with the dancers, and then with full audio and music. It looks amazing and you are impressed but also super irritated because you SHOULD be able to watch this at the actual venue tonight, not at a gym studio. 

Xavier sneaks up behind you during one of the breaks. “Soooo…...how’s it going?”

“I think they look amazing! Don’t you?”

“Yeah yeah they look fine. I meant about the other thing. You know….that thaaaaaanggg.” he wiggles his eyebrows.

“Oh God. No. There is nothing.”

“....don’t tell me that, he keeps staring at you.”

“Yeah probably because I’m the director. Everyone is staring at me.” you roll your eyes. 

“Really? Nothing new?” he asks and you sigh. 

“Oh my god, fiiiiiine. Here, let’s go get some coffee.” you grab a mic “Ok everyone, grab some water if you want and meet back here in ten for our last 2 sets and then we’ll review the plan for tomorrow. Break!” 

You grab Xavier’s arm and head down to the kitchen. “Coffee?” you ask.

“It’s 8 pm.” he responds.

“...iced coffee?” you amend.

“No. I don’t know how you can do that.” he wrinkles his nose at your late night caffeine habit.

You shrug and walk with him down the hallway to the locker room and shut the door, locking it. You give him an overview of what RM had said to you earlier in the afternoon. 

“I knew he wasn’t an asshole. The internet never lies.” 

“Ok but he WAS an asshole yesterday,” you roll your eyes and sip some coffee. “And then he accidentally touched me and it felt like I was mildly electrocuted and I kind of liked it and I AM CONFUSED.”

Xavier starts to laugh at you, “Yeah well that’s because everything with your soulmate is more intense. It goes along with the emotions and pain. What feels good also feels REALLY good if you know what I mean.”

“I touched him yesterday when putting his lav mic on and nothing happened soooo i don’t think your theory works but ok.” You pull out your phone to check the time.

“Oh no honey, my theory is spot on. And I predict if he wasn’t leaving in a few days y’all would be all up on each other. Bye Ben. Bye BTS. Hello sexy soulmate time.”

“Um No. Rude. I have a boyfriend. Also catering is here.” you put your phone back in your pocket.

“I HaVe a BoYfrIenD…” Xavier mocks you jokingly and you smack him as the two of you exit the locker room.

30ish hours. You could make it 30ish hours. NEXT CHAPTER

[princecharmingmendes]

Electricity | Shawn Mendes

“Going to the gym it’s already a part of Shawn’s life, but the whole atmosphere changes when he sees you waking in for the first time. It was like electricity”

sooo, even tough i’m working on a new soulmate series  (follow me for more updates *wink*) i felt bad for not updating my masterlist or whatever recently, so i had this idea coming back from gym and it’s a really simple concept. anyways, i’ll stop rambling and hope you like this concept/blurb thing... that’s it, it’s not my best work, but it was what I could come up with... byeeee

*Word Count: 2.2K+

*Warnings: cursing and that's it!

*Posted: March 15th, 2020.

                                                           -*-

Shawn’s pretty sure he’s an idiot. Not that he ever doubted that, but right now he’s just one hundred percent sure he’s pathetic. Working out is a really important thing on his life, not only for working purposes, but also to be able to keep up with all the stuff he has to do in general and to keep himself healthy. So it’s no surprise he’s basically everyday on the gym or doing something, and he generally was really good on focusing only on his workout, but recently that was becoming harder and harder, all because of you.

He’d always workout on the mornings to be able to work after and be free for the rest of the day, making this routine to not have excuses to skip leg day. And since this have been for a while, he knew pretty much everyone around him enough to notice when someone new showed up, but he didn’t pay much attention. That was until the first time he saw you. You were walking into the gym with a friend, giggling about something she said with an adorable blush on your face, an oversized hoodie and a pair of black leggings, and the messiest yet most beautiful ponytail he has ever seen in his life.

He just stood there in shock, mesmerized by the sound of you laughing and breathtaking smile and his trainer even asked if he was okay, which he just nodded. He tried so hard not to look at you because he thought that was invasive and kind of a dick thing to do, he couldn’t help to find himself looking for you, trying so bad to keep his eyes to himself. He didn’t want to be a creep. The second time his trainer noticed, he told him she was the sweetest girl he ever met but was dating some dude at work. The third time he tried to ignore your presence but it was hard, you were like a magnet and your voice was like melody to his ears.

His biggest regret was telling that to his friends, they didn’t miss a beat on mocking him about the mysterious girl he’s been crazy about. Every single time he mentioned something gym related they would make some funny comment about it. Brian even decided he would join him on his workout just to see the girl that’s been on his friends mind for a while now. So a week later he joined Shawn at the gym on his usual time and couldn’t stop cursing.

“Dude, why do you wake up that early?!”

“So that I can start my day knowing I already worked out and that I’m free”

“You are fucking insane, Mendes”

“Fuck off, Brian” he said chuckling as he got there and pushed the door open.

“I better end up looking like you after all this sacrifice”

“You know that’s not how working out works, right?”

“Yeah, and that’s why I hate it”

“Shut up, you didn’t even started, dude”

“Whatever” Brian said as they approached the trainer, only to be told to start by earning up.

They followed Shawn’s insane routine, with Brian complaining at every single movement, saying it was pointless since you were not there for him to finally meet you, even tough Shawn didn’t even had the courage to talk to you. When Brian was cursing for the billionth time, Shawn saw you walking in alone and going straight to the girl who he noticed that might be your trainer.

“Dude, what’re you... oh shit, that’s her isn’t she?”

“Yeah”

“Shit, I know her”

“What?!”

“I mean, I don’t actually know her, but she’s a really good Finn’s friend”

“Finn’s? She’s not his girlfriend?”

“No, dude, he’s got a girlfriend for two years now”

“Holy shit”

“Want me to talk to her and introduce you guys?”

“That would be so awkward”

“Only if you make it”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea”

“Are we done?”

“With what?”

“Your routine? ‘Cause I honestly feel like I won’t be able to talk tomorrow”

“Yeah, we can cut it a little shorter today”

“Great, hey, Y/N!”

“Brian” Shawn hissed through gritted teeth but it was too late, you turned around to see who was calling your name, and then you shot them a breathtaking smile, or at least, Shawn was finding it extremely hard to breath.

“Brian, right?” she asked approaching both of them.

“Yeah, that’s me, and this is Shawn, my best friend”

“Hi, Shawn” she said smiling at me and offering her hand to shake, and so I did.

“Hey, nice to meet you” Shawn said unable to hold back the grin that was plastered on his pink lips.

“Are you guys done? I don’t want to bother you too”

“Yeah, we’re cool, how’ve you been?”

“Fine, actually, things are a little crazy at work but that’s a good thing right?”

“I guess so, she’s a lawyer” Brian said.

“Oh, that’s nice”

“What have you been doing?”

“I’ve been working with Shawn for the past months”

“Really? Didn’t know you had music gift”

“Oh, he doesn’t” Shawn said and the girl giggled.

“I’ve been helping him on tour”

“So basically you’ve been traveling ‘helping Shawn’ and being payed for it?”

“Pretty much” Shawn said smiling.

“Hey, I do a lot, okay?”

“Sure thing, Brian, how do I take his place?”

“Just say the word” Shawn said chuckling making Y/N giggle, his heart melting at the sound.

“Great to know you too are already friendly enough to mock me” Brian said making both of their faces red.

“Anyway, it was nice talking to you guys, but I really gotta start this so I won’t be late later”

“Sure, it was nice seeing you too, Y/N, take care” Brian said and Shawn just mumbled a quick ‘bye’ before she turned away smiling at them “now you know each other” Brian said grinning and Shawn hit the back of his head playfully.

“You idiot” Shawn said as they left the gym laughing.

                                                         -*-

Since their first introduction, they haven’t talked much but would always say ‘hi’ at least to each other everyday, and she didn’t leave his mind at all. It was getting harder to don’t seem like a creep for looking at her while she was trying to mind her own business and sometimes he even caught her staring, but quickly turning away. So when she didn’t show up one day he got worried, she didn’t seem the type to miss her training, at least, she didn’t on the last month and a half. He even considered asking what happened to her coach but decided to drop it. But for his relief, she came to talk to Shawn’s trainer about it.

“Y/N called to say she couldn’t make it”

“Oh, everything alright?”

“Yeah, she just had a meeting she had to reschedule and she’s super busy, so this was the only time she and her client could meet”

“Nice... can I ask you a favor?”

“Sure”

“I won’t be able to come here on Friday, can you keep an eye on Shawn for me?”

“Totally, I just have to ask Y/N since she’s in for his usual time”

“I can come on another time if you want” Shawn said as he finished a series, taking a break.

“I’ll talk to her, if she doesn’t mind, would it be bad for you?”

“No, not at all” Shawn said trying to contain his excitement.

“Great, thanks, Jen”

“Anytime, Duke” she said as she went back to where she was previously.

“She said Y/N finds you cute”

“What?”

“Yeah, you should ask her out”

“Dude, are you serious? Is my love life you entertainment?” Shawn asked trying to keep his features as serious as possible.

“Pretty much”

“Unbelievable”

“But for real, you should really ask her out, it’s been a while you’ve been drooling over her and not doing anything about it”

“Yeah, maybe Friday”

“Whatever works for you, rockstar, now let’s go back to work”

                                                         -*-

Friday came faster than expected. Shawn was practically hoping on the streets to get to the gym in excitement. Jen was already there when he arrived, but he didn’t spot Y/N, which calmed him a bit.

“Hey, how are you?”

“Hi, Shawn, good morning, Duke showed me his plans for you, do you mind if we change it a bit?”

“Not at all, what do you have in mind?”

“I know you have some hard times stretching, so maybe we could work on that as well? To balance things a bit”

“Sure”

“Great, Y/N will be here anytime, wanna start warming up a bit?”

“Works for me”

Just as Shawn was doing as Jen told him to, Y/N walked in wearing a pair of leggings and an oversized hoodie, as always, and her hair in two braids. He could feel his palms sweating.

“Good morning, guys” Y/N said smiling at them.

“Morning” they both answered.

“So, Jen, what are we doing today?”

“We’re not going to change much, Shawn’s going to fit in your routine”

“Good luck, dude”

“Hey, it can’t be that hard right? I think I can handle it” he said, feeling his ego being punched.

Shawn didn’t consider himself as an athlete of anything like that, but he worked out hard for a while now.

“Let’s ser about that, tiger” Y/N said with a grin playing on her lips.

“Enough with the flirting, can we start?”

“Yes, Ma’am” Shawn said as soon as he felt his face heat up and Y/N’s cheek get a little pinker than usual.

He was so wrong. His workout routine was pretty intense, but hers were just something else. She trained a lot the muscles on her anda and back due to pain she has from stress and position at work, so there’s not so much weight lifting but what she does is just as bad, Shawn found himself almost begging to grab a few weights or something on his routine. When Jen announced the worst was over he almost felt happy, then he remembered she told him she was going to help them stretch, which was literally his biggest fear.

He was mesmerized by Y/N’s ability to apparently ignore the natural humane positions and simply became like a doll on Jen’s hands. He just stood there in awe with every movement she made while he couldn’t even touch his toes. But even tough the training was completely different and out of his comfort zone, he swear he never had more fun in his life. Y/N was constantly cracking jokes and making some sarcastic yet funny comments about pretty much everything. He was also impressed at how naturally the conversation was flowing between them, they sometimes ever forgot that Jen was right there beside them the whole time, only being remembered due to the exercises and the bickering about their flirting situation. Shawn found himself disappointed on how fast the minutes flew by.

“Well, it was fun, guys, see you two on Monday” Jen said as we grabbed our stuff.

“See you, Jen, thank you” Shawn said as she went to her next class.

“She’s right, today was actually really nice” Y/N said looking up at Shawn from where she was sitting on the floor.

“It was, Monday we’ll have the part two to this”

“Yeah... or maybe...”

“Yeah?” Shawn asked offering a hand for her to stand up, which she gladly took with a smile on her lips.

“Are you free right now?”

“I am, why?”

“Wanna go grab something to eat? There’s this really nice place nearby with some healthy stuff and great iced teas”

“I’d love that, actually I was intending to ask you out for a while now”

“I know” She said chuckling.

“What? Wait... how?!”

“Brian told me”

“I’m going to kill him” Shawn muttered under his breath.

“Hey” she said squeezing his hand, that he even forgot that was still holding hers “don’t do it, I’ve been wanting to do the same for a while now”

“Really?” Shawn asked, his whole demeanor changing into a smirk, making her blush.

“Yeah, I was just waiting to see if you’d actually do something other than ask about me or stare at me from a distance”

“Sorry, I got a little nervous”

“That’s why I decided to step up”

“And I appreciate it, but I was wondering... if we could actually have a proper date, one that I’m not all sweaty and shit”

“Hmm... it depends”

“On what?”

“Are actually going to ask me out this time?”

“Y/N, would you like to go on date with me... tonight... or whenever you’re available actually”

“I’d love to, and tonight’s just fine by the way”

“Okay, I’ll pick you up at seven?”

“Fine by me, give me your phone” she said and I handled it to her, in which she wrote her number down.

“Thank you” Shawn said smiling at her.

“Are we still going to grab something to eat now or...?”

“Oh, yeah, sure, let’s go” Shawn said squeezing her hand back and she just smiled at him, not letting go of his hand as she pulled him outside.

Shawn could literally feel his whole body exploding in excitement. Little did he know, she was feeling the same way.

                                                          -*-

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*xoxo

-🌙

: @fivefeetapartt