#i am trying to rile someone up. so i might break a few out early

[basementstalker]

akanei6no_Sora

[tsukishumai]

First Kiss Scenarios- Oikawa, Iwaizumi, Hanamaki, Matsukawa (Aoba Johsai edition!)

OIKAWA –

The weather was particularly beautiful when Oikawa had taken you out to see the cherry blossoms. One 25 minutes train ride had taken the two of you to a park you had never been to before, but Oikawa had told you about many times.  

This was probably the fourth weekend in a row that Oikawa had shown up at your door, insisting that you go and get ready because there’s this place that he just /has/ to take you to.

You take one look at his face, always plastered with excitement, and there’s just no way that you could say no.

Oikawa is fidgeting next to you; if he wasn’t pulling at the hem of his shirt, he was tugging his collar, or running shaky fingers through his brown hair.

“Are you alright?” you asked, and he jumped at your voice, nodding as his cheeks begin to flush.

“Yeah, of course! Why wouldn’t I be? You… look really nice today.”

You brush your fingers at the new accessory that draped across your neck; a sunflower pendant that hung from a golden chain, smiling at the memory of Oikawa stuttering as he insisted you wore it for today’s outing.

“Thanks… What’s got you all blushy blushy?” “I am /not/!” “You look like a tomatokawa!”

He shoved you lightly, chuckling as you stumbled to the side. “You can’t just add –kawa to any word, that’s not very creative.” You smiled, making your way back next to him and looping an arm through his. “It’s worked pretty well for me so far.”

 Oikawa stilled next to you, stopping his footsteps abruptly. You were about to question him, but instead, admired the view of cherry blossoms dancing around in circles as the wind blew around you.

“It’s really beautiful up here. Thank you for taking me –“ “Willyoubemygirlfriend?”

You blinked once. “What?”

You watched Oikawa turn an impossible shade of red, stumbling over his words as he tried to pick the right ones to say. You never thought you’d see the “Great King” Oikawa, usually so smooth and suave, turned into a stuttering, blubbering mess and you thought it might just be the greatest thing you’ve ever seen. “Shit, I messed that up. Wait, let me start over, I had a speech, if you could just – “

You pulled him down by the collar he had been messing with the whole morning, and placed a soft kiss on his lips, smirking in satisfaction when you see his eyes widen.

“Yes, I will be your girlfriend.”

IWAIZUMI –

You have always loved watching Iwaizumi play.

You’ve known Iwaizumi since you were first years; he was assigned to be your lab partner, and the two of you hit it off so well, you’ve been friends ever since.

In class, he was a quiet student that always had the answer whenever sensei asked him a question, turned in his work on time, and actually pulled his weight during group projects.

Out of class, he was your friend that ate lunch with you, walked you home, made fun of you every chance he got, helped you study when you were about to fail chemistry.

During a game though… he was a completely different beast, and just the sight of him was enough to make your body feel like it’s on fire.

You usually try to ignore your growing feelings for Iwaizumi, but when you see him out on the court in his uniform, with his amazing receives and powerful spikes, you can’t help but let your eyes linger on him just a little longer.

It was match point for Seijoh, and you could feel the tension in the air so thick, you couldn’t breathe.

You watched as Oikawa points a finger at Iwaizumi, setting the ball perfectly for him.

Three blockers lock in on Iwaizumi, but that only made the ace’s eyes harden, and you felt butterflies making a home for themselves in your belly

Iwaizumi jumps, and the next thing you heard was a loud slam, your eyes barely able to follow the powerful spike that the opposing team had no chance of blocking.

The crowd around you celebrates as you run down towards the court, cheeks aching from the huge smile on your face that got only wider as you see Iwaizumi get jumped by his teammates.

“Congratulations Iwa-chan!” You yell, and his eyes snap around until they finally land on you.

He gets out of his teammates grips, the last thing you see was his grin before he sweeps you up in his arms and locking your lips in a kiss.

You were shocked for only one moment before you return his excitement with your own.

“Jesus Christ, get a room!” you hear his teammates, but at that moment, you couldn’t give damn.

HANAMAKI –

Hanamaki had been your best friend since junior high.

You were reminded of that so abruptly when you get a call from Iwaizumi to pick him up from the after-game party at Oikawa’s house, saying Hanamaki’s been looking for you like some lost puppy. The party that you just left an hour ago, asking Hanamaki if he’s sure he doesn’t want to come with you, but he insisted it was okay to leave him because he was going to be just fine.

“Why you walking so fast,” Hanamaki slurred

“Because it’s late, and I want to go home, Makki.” You can’t lie, you were a little buzzed yourself, which is what prompted you to head home early in the first place. “You’re lucky Oikawa lives just a few blocks down.”

“Come on, y/n,” he bugged you, intentionally slowing down your movements by rooting his feet down where he stood. “Slow down,” he slid his hand down your arm to intertwine it with your fingers, “Let’s enjoy the walk.”

You let him lead the way, footsteps moving at a glacial pace. His eyes were closed, and he had a certain glow about him, his shoulders slumped in a way you haven’t seen in a while.

“Open your eyes, you idiot,” you say with joking tone, “You’re going to trip over.”

“No, I won’t, I have you to guide me.”

You rolled your eyes, moving to loosen your fingers from his grip, but he just tightened it.

“Stop,” he said when he noticed what you were trying to do, “Just let me hold your hand.”

The fluttering in your stomach doesn’t stop, witnessing the side to your best friend that you rarely got to see.

The two of you finally get to your house, the one that stood directly to the left of Makki’s. He stood facing you at the gate, preparing to part ways.

“You gonna be able to make it all the way over there by yourself?” You joked, and he stared down at you with clouded eyes.

You stared back at him, frozen as you watched his eyelids slip close and he lowered his head to place a chaste kiss on your lips.

“Good night,” he said, taking a step back and stumbling towards the direction of his own home. “I’ve always wanted to do that,” you hear him mutter.

You stand at the entrance of your gate until you see that Makki has safely made it inside his own. Suddenly you let out a shaky breath you didn’t know you were holding, slowly lifting your fingers up to your lips.

You chuckled, finally heading inside to get ready for bed, wondering if Makki is going to remember that in the morning.

MATSUKAWA –

People usually have the wrong impression of Matsukawa – they say he’s intimidating, and quite scary looking.

But in reality, he is just one giant 6’2” goof ball.

“What the hell,” he teased you on your usual walk home. “Who the hell eats Kit Kat like that?!”

You just smile, laughing at how easy it is to rile him up.

“What? They present it in one rectangular bar, so what’s the problem?” you peel back the wrapper of your favorite chocolate.

“No, you’re supposed to break off the individual pieces!”

You take one big bite out of the entire Kit Kat, fighting the urge to burst out laughing when Matsukawa just stared at you in horror.

“You… you just want to watch the world burn.”

This time, you actually did laugh, and Matsukawa thought he was hearing music.

“It’s just chocolate, what does it matter how I eat it, as long as it gets eaten?” “I can’t believe I actually like someone as psychotic as you.”

The both of you stopped walking; you, trying to register what Matsukawa just said, and Matsukawa trying to understand why the hell he just said that.

“You… like me?”

A small smile began to appear on your mouth, one that only grew wider as Matsukawa just got redder. He was trying to avoid your stare, and the first words that came out of his mouth came in a stutter.

“Ye – Uh – Well – Hey, look, is that Makki?”

You raise your brow and turn around, getting more confused when you see that there was no one around.

You turn your head back only to see Matsukawa’s face mere millimeters from yours. You inhaled sharply, holding your breath while Matsukawa gave you a second to move away. When you didn’t, he lowered his head and placed a gentle kiss on your lips.

“Yeah,” he said nonchalantly, placing both his hands in his pockets. “I do like you.”

He walked ahead of you, leaving you a flustered mess.

[kumeko]

Title: Garreg Mach Yearbook Chronicles

A/N: For the @garregmachzine I got to write four different snippets. It was a fun challenge trying to cram everything into a drabble.

Featuring: Leonie's troubles with Seteth and Flayn, Hilda charming Ferdinand to escape battle, Annette dealing with a club composed of Linhardt and Marianne, and Claude dodging Hubert's censor.

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Fishing Tournament

Sitting on the banks of the pond, Leonie watched as her bobber dipped in and out of the water, floating idly along an invisible current. With any luck, she’d catch a fish soon. A big one, hopefully. Usually by now she’d have caught at least one or two, but then usually she was also alone while she fished. Leonie cast an eye around her, biting her cheek at the sight of her fellow classmates. Despite how early in the morning it was, it felt like half the monastery was sitting along the pond, trying their best to catch a fish.

Then again, it wasn’t everyday that Seteth held a fishing contest. After all that’d happened in the past few months, she couldn’t deny that they needed a break like this and it seemed that everyone else agreed. Byleth sat at the docks, quietly fishing. Next to her, Sylvain lost his balance and flailed as he struggled to keep out of the water. In the distance, she spotted Caspar and Raphael comparing their catches.

“I see you are also entering the fishing contest,” a slightly musical voice asked from behind her. Startled from her thoughts, Leonie looked up in time to catch Flayn as she sat down next to her. Like, right next to her. Smiling softly, Flayn clasped her hands together as she stared at Leonie’s rod. “Did you catch anything?”

“N-not yet.” Leonie shook her head, feeling a little awkward at the proximity. Maybe if she shifted the other way—

“That is a pity.” Seteth slowly sat down on her other side, a fishing rod in hand. He cast his line, his eyes on her the entire time. “It will not be much of a contest if there are no entries.”

Leonie resisted the urge to get up and run. What was it with these siblings, pinning her in like this? She felt sandwiched, with no way to escape. “I’m sure someone will manage to catch a good fish or two. Give me an hour, and I’m sure I can wrangle up a few myself.”

“Oh, that’s great.” Flayn clapped her hands. “However, that leaves a different problem. We’ll have all these fishes, and no one to cook them.”

Leonie swallowed. This was starting to sound familiar. “There are plenty of cooks—”

“Leonie has excellent skills,” Seteth suggested, as though he’d just thought of it. “Maybe she could?”

“Really?” Flayn lit up, before flashing her an innocent smile. “Leonie, would you mind?”

She should have just listened to her instincts and run.

-x-

Crest Studies

When Annette joined the academy, she had never seen herself leading a club, or leading anything for that matter. Sure, she would join one or two, but leadership was for the elites, for Dimitri’s and Sylvain’s of the world. Well, maybe not Sylvain exactly, but there were plenty other nobles who could fit the bill. Ferdinand. Lorenz. Hubert.

Yet it was her, not them, standing in front of the Blue Lions classroom, looking at her Crest Studies clubmates. To be perfectly honest, when the other options were the lazy Lindhardt and the shy Marianne, if Annette didn’t take the lead, nothing would get done. Even now, Lindhardt was dozing on his desk while Marianne fidgeted nervously.

Annette bit her cheek. She should have joined the gardening club. Clearing her throat, she announced, “For today’s activity, we’re going to the market.”

“W-what?” Marianne’s eyes grew wide. Sometimes, it looked like she didn’t know why she was in the club. “The market?”

“Why?” Lazily, Lindhardt lifted his head and gave her a baleful glare. “That’s a waste of effort.”

From the teacher’s desk, Professor Hanneman gave her thumbs up. At least someone liked her proposition. Annette quickly refuted, “It’s not.”

“We study crests,” Lindhardt replied languidly. “It’s a waste.”

Something about him always riled her up. She could feel her hackles rising. Stalking toward him, she rested her hands on her hip and bit out. “It’s not. We need to know what people think of crests.”

“Annette’s right.” Hanneman nodded sagely, intervening before an argument started. “It’s important to consider different perspectives when studying a topic.”

“But talking to people…” Marianne gnawed on her lip. “I’m not sure—”

“It’ll be fine.” Annette clasped Marianne’s hands, squeezing them tight. “Besides, we’re going to interview later, so this is good practice.”

Hesitantly, Marianne nodded. “I-I suppose that’s true.”

“Can’t we just interview now and get it over with?” Linhardt interjected, yawning.

Annette pulled Marianne up to her feet. “We’re going to the market,” she stated firmly, refusing to broker any more arguments. “If you want to decide what we’re doing, then you be the club president.”

It was an ultimatum he’d never take, and they both knew it. With a sigh, he got up. “Fine, I suppose there’s some merit to it.”

“Good.” Annette grinned as she gently tugged Marianne toward the door. Finally, she could tell Mercedes that they’d done something other than sit in a classroom. Finally, just like all the other clubs, she was going to go out with her clubmates and do something fun.

Perhaps there was some merit to being club president, after all.

-x-

Battle of the Eagle and Lion

I’d say it is an honour to write about the Battle of the Eagle and the Lion, but that was before so many of my drafts got mysteriously burned or destroyed because if I happen to make any unflattering comments about Edelgard, I have to start over. Though I would argue they aren’t disparaging, but who am I to argue with her guard dog, Hubert?

So what can I say about the Battle? Well, I guess the obvious—all three of our houses showed what they did best: Edelgard with her strategies, Dimitri with his training, and me with my ‘schemes’. I call them strategies, others call them traps, to-may-to, to-mah-to. Honestly, I didn’t do anything sinister this time around. If a lot of students just happened to get a case of mild food poisoning, well, things happen. Raphael got it too and you don’t hear me complaining about sabotage.

Let’s see, something flattering—ah, I know! It’s actually quite impressive how much Edelgard was able to move despite her illness. Honestly, if someone had poisoned, they’d better know to up the dosage next time. Despite her thinning ranks, she managed to set up her classmates quite skillfully, and Hubert somehow managed to do a lot of damage despite looking like he needed to find the closest toilet.

Of course, Dimitri powered his way through the food poisoning. I think he’s got the strength of a dozen soldiers, or boars as Felix likes to put it. Felix also managed to move, but I think that was purely out of spite. It’s amazing what a motivation spite is. Then again, I think Hubert would know all about that, wouldn’t he?

My house, of course, were the cleverest of the bunch, carefully goading out our enemies and defeating them one by one. Despite losing our strongest member, we rallied around each other and fought back. It was a close fight by all reckoning. And honestly if Edelgard lost (notice I said if, Hubert!), it wouldn’t be all that shameful, considering the handicaps she had.

Now, you might be wondering who actually won? Why it’s (scorched words) of course! Was there ever any doubt?

-x-

Mission Battles

Out of all the school activities she was forced to do, Hilda disliked the missions and mock battles the most. With the others, she could get away with appealing her classmates into helping her, whether it was Marianne in the library or Raphael with the stables or some other poor, hapless soul who crossed her path. As long as it was done, no one was the wiser.

On the battlefield, she wasn’t quite as lucky. No one could protect her the entire time and her charms were entirely wasted on the enemy. It wasn’t like they’d stop fighting her just because she asked.

Or maybe, if she—no, no, it was best to banish that thought. Hilda gripped her axe as she studied the battlefield before her. Just ahead of her was a bandit and unfortunately, there was no ally in sight to protect her. She was going to have to cut this one down herself. “I don’t suppose you’d back down?”

The bandit roared in response, charging at her.

“Step back!” Ferdinand quickly dashed ahead of her, his sword gleaming in the sunlight as he slashed down on her foe. With two quick strikes, the bandit was down and her rescuer looked at her triumphantly over his shoulder. “You okay?”

“Yes! Thanks so much!” Hilda clasped one of his hands and gave him a soft smile. She stood corrected—she could absolutely charm her way through a battle, as long as it was one of those rare cross-house battles.

“No problem.” Ferdinand smiled brightly, before looking over his shoulder at Edelgard. “As you can see, I have struck down another enemy. That brings my count to higher than yours, does it not?”

“We’re in the middle of battle, Ferdinand,” Edelgard warned, axe clenched tightly in her hands. “We’re not competing.”

“Considering how one-sided it is, I could hardly call it a competition.” Ferdinand sniped, trying to pick a fight as usual.

Judging by Edelgard’s weary expression, his taunts still didn’t work. Determining that Hilda was safe enough, Ferdinand once more returned to Edelgard’s side, no doubt challenging her once again. It was impressive how he didn’t give up. A little sad, but impressive.

If he wasn’t going to give up, neither would she. There was bound to be another sucke—noble man willing to lay his life for a damsel in dress. Catching sight of a flash of red, Hilda smiled. “Oh, Sylvain!” she called out, batting her eyes.

Perhaps she could charm her way out of fighting too.

[bumbleberrysky]

alexa, play candyshop (bass boosted) | 02

pairing: gabriel x reader genre: soulmate au, canon divergent around s13, hurt/comfort, humour, future smut (probs) wc: 3.7k rating: sfw warnings: same as before, wounded gabriel & removal of those stitches notes: the fire under my ass burns as strong as ever, hallelujah

You knew there was a reason some divine power brought you to the Winchesters all those years ago, but to this day you still have no idea what that reason is. It’s something you’re destined to find out soon though, especially when you return to the bunker after months away and find not only a new face, but one that belongs to someone who up until that point you’d thought was dead. What does his return have to do with the changes you’re suddenly experiencing in yourself? Will you finally find out the reason you’d been brought here in the first place? Maybe…

Chuck works in mysterious ways after all.

prev. || next

Much to your regret, your plans the next morning to continue being a nuisance to Dean are thrown in the bin at his decision to leave early and meet Castiel somewhere a state over for a case that the angel had found. Something about vamps in a mine or something, you’re a bit hazy on the details. You’d only half-listened when Sam filled you in upon your arrival in the kitchen, a good hour after Dean had already departed the bunker.

While you would like to say Dean is completely to blame, the truth is that once you passed out last night you slept like a log and didn’t wake up until mid-morning today, which classifies as a sleep-in of sorts for you. You love sleep, but your body is wired to wake up not long after sunrise, unfortunately. It’s that hunter lifestyle you love to hate.

Sam had huffed a laugh at your face when you found out you’d missed Dean, but otherwise had kept to himself with his healthy breakfast as you went about making yourself a coffee. You tend to be a bit nauseous in the mornings, so a coffee will be enough for you for a few hours. It’s likely your stomach won’t roar in hunger until a bit after midday, as it is wont to do.

“How is your arm?”

Sam’s question breaks you out of the dissociative state you’d slipped into as you sip your coffee, grip on the mug tightening in reflex. It takes a few blinks before your eyes focus back on him, a small smile on your lips.

“Much better, thank you doctor,” you answer, before mumbling into your coffee as you take another sip. “Despite apparent attempts at making it otherwise…”

Sam snorts, not even bothering to comment on that. “I’m glad. Did you have anything planned for the day?”

A contemplative hum escapes you, your gaze wandering to the ceiling. “No, not really. I kind of went hard for a while there, one case after the other, so I’m due for a break. Not much of a fan of burnout.”

Your eyes move back down, meeting his own. “I’m probably going to just hang back, for a bit. Recuperate. I mean, I didn’t get any injury besides my arm, but I’m just… tired, I suppose. Didn’t get much sleep the past few weeks.”

“Of course you didn’t hurt anything but your arm,” Sam rolls his eyes, taking a sip of his smoothie—you’re not a fan of the green tinge it has, but if he likes it then you suppose it must be alright, at least. “You and your stupid good luck. Dean is still mad about last time, you know. When he got splattered in monster guts that just missed you by a centimetre.”

The memory yanks a giggle out of you before you can stop it, almost spilling your coffee as a result of the abrupt movement. “Oh, that was good. I wish I had a picture so I could scrapbook it.”

Sam laughs around a mouthful of food, swallowing it down before he continues. “Dean would kill you.”

“I know, but it would be worth it.” You place your cup down, deciding it a better course of action than continuing to hold it and risking spillage. “Also, I know you think my luck is really good all the time, but it’s kind of just good occasionally. All other times, it sucks.”

“It kicks in when you hunt, though, so I suppose that’s all that matters,” Sam muses, flicking through an article on his phone somewhat distractedly. He hums to himself before turning the screen off and angling his body to you properly, meeting your questioning gaze.

“I’m… I’m gonna need your help,” he says, appearing somewhat sheepish. “With Gabriel.”

You try not to let your sharp intake of breath show, but from the look that flickers through Sam’s eyes you figure he catches it anyway. Your teeth worry your bottom lip for a moment before you can muster a proper response. “Alright. What are you thinking of doing?”

Sam adjusts once more, pushing his plate away, cutlery stacked on top; it’s only now that you realise he’s finished the meal and the only thing left to consume is his smoothie.

“Well, I’m not… entirely sure yet.”

You huff a laugh, attempting to regain a sense of normalcy. It isn’t that you’d forgotten about the battered archangel hiding in a room a few doors down from yours, but it’s moreso that you’d made it a point not to think about it so early in the morning, lest your mood be ruined for the entire day. Thinking of Gabriel… it kind of hurt. You’re not sure you’re ready to sit down and analyse exactly why you’re having such visceral reactions yet.

“I don’t think we can really plan much, here,” he says, features softening with empathy. It reminds you that when it comes to Hell and being tortured, the youngest Winchester isn’t as unfamiliar as you might hope. A pang of something hits against the confines of your chest at his tone and the passing look in his eyes; as always, there’s the useless feeling, the wish you could take away all the bad memories and experiences and make it all better. You know you can’t, nothing can, but you hate seeing your friends in any modicum of pain.

You suppose that includes Gabriel, if the sensations whirling within you at the thought of him are anything to go by.

“We’ll just have to take it as it comes,” you say, taking your mug into your hold and downing the rest of the drink in one go. “Alright! I’m gonna shower and then… I guess we go see him.”

x   x

 Unlike the Gabriel you were once so familiar with, this Gabriel is decidedly not fond of visitors.

Sam had gone and prepared some things while you’d showered and dressed, and by the time you reappear outside your room you hear shuffling from the direction of the library. Curious, you make your way down the hall, peeking your head in and blinking in only minor surprise at the sight of Sam, his shoulders heavy.

“What’s up, Sam-o-saurus?”

Sam looks up and gives you the closest approximation to a bitch face that you’ve ever received from him, clearly not fond of the new nickname that came to you on the spot like a divine enlightenment. He takes a moment to close his eyes and breathe, though, which is probably for the best considering your mission for the day. It would do none of you any good if he went near Gabriel while all riled up.

“Gabriel is, uh,” he clears his throat, placing down a sterile steel tray in the shape of a bean and small surgical scissors, along with a scalpel. Your gaze strays to the side and sees that it was the first aid box he’d been ransacking as you arrived. “Not very open to visitation from me right now. I think I might be a bit… bit big. He doesn’t really even see me when he looks at me, so I don’t think he realises who I am.”

You wince, trying not to dwell on the information longer than needed to file it away for later consideration. “Oh. Sorry, Sam. You want me to go see if I can bring him out?”

“Please,” the tall man says, gesturing to the tools on the glossy oak table. “I figured we could start by getting rid of those stitches over his mouth, if nothing else. I don’t think he has enough grace right now to stop infection so we should try and reduce the risk.”

His words sadden you, but you know the truth they hold. Your limbs feel a bit heavy as you push away from the doorway.

“Alright. I’ll be right back.”

Gabriel’s allocated room isn’t all that far from the library, and the note on the door sticks out like a sore thumb so you don’t have to worry much about getting lost on the way (ignoring that at this point you know most parts of the bunker like the back of your hand). Once outside his room, something gives you pause though.

Are you ready to see him in that state again? Or is it that a small, tiny part of you fears he won’t recognise you, either?

Ridiculous of you, really. You take a moment to admonish yourself for the thought. If you take a second to factor in the difference in time spent in hell, even without considering all the time he was missing, Gabriel had to have been trapped and tortured for over a century at the very least. Centuries and years might mean nothing to a celestial being who has been alive for millennia, but over a century of fear and torture is a lot even for someone with such impressive mileage.

You shake your head, attempting to clear your thoughts and emotions so you don’t enter his room with an overwhelming aura. Okay, showtime.

A soft knock echoes as your knuckles meet the wood, a moment passing before you speak, attempting to keep your voice as soft and nonthreatening as possible.

“Gabriel? It’s y/n, I’m going to come in now.”

You allow another moment to pass before you ease the door open, blinking in surprise as your eyes are greeted by light—it seems the archangel has every bulb in the vicinity burning its brightest. Understandable, since you presume he wasn’t exactly kept in well-lit conditions.

For a second, you think he’s not in the room. You don’t see him anywhere, and you’re about a split-second away from turning and calling Sam when you catch a glimpse of something shifting in the corner, behind the bulky side of a wooden dresser. You think for a second that you’ve forgotten how to breathe, chest painfully tight, as you realise that the small form huddled and curled in the corner is, in fact, the archangel Gabriel.

You hate that you’d noticed him only because of the filthy scraps of material that stick out against the dark décor of the bunker.

“Hey, Gabriel,” you say softly, keeping the door open so he has a route of escape and moving over as slowly and cautiously as you can. “I’m just gonna come over and sit in front of you, alright?”

You figure that even if he’s not entirely listening to everything you’re saying, it’s better to announce what you’re doing before you do it, for his benefit.

Something painful ricochets off the inside of your chest as you grow close enough to see him around the dresser and you’re confronted with his beaten, bloody and battered figure once more. His gaze is anywhere but you, and the way he presses himself into the corner is like he’s trying to make himself as small as possible. It takes all of your willpower to squash down the unexpected sob that catches low in your throat. What is wrong with you?! You need to get a grip.

“Oh, Gabriel,” you find yourself saying before you can stop. “I’m so sorry…”

The closer you get to him, the lower you try to make yourself in his peripheral. It wouldn’t do any good to startle him by appearing big and threatening. It makes you frown when you remember just who it is that you have to think this way about. It’s sad, you think. The Gabriel you’d known was prideful, glaringly bright and loud in his presence, both as a trickster and an angel, and that he’d been reduced to… well, to this? It made your chest feel heavy.

Slowly and as quietly as possible, you ease down onto your knees in front of him, doing your best not to rush anything. It’s hard—you’re a hunter, used to moving with speed and a sense of urgency. So to take your time and really be in the moment for each of your actions is definitely an odd change from the usual autopilot your brain resides in.

He doesn’t acknowledge your presence once you’re still in front of him, not really. You had expected as much though, and as much as he seems unresponsive you do see the occasional flick of his eyes in your direction before they dart away, like he couldn’t believe he’d dared to look at someone instead of the floor.

For a few minutes, you simply let him adjust to your presence, your company. Ever so slowly, you see the tiniest bits of tension ease from his shoulders, his eyes no longer darting around like a frantic squirrel. You take the opportunity to take in the wounds and sores littering his body, doing your best not to get too upset by what you see. Dirt and grime coats him in layers, and you mentally note that your next goal with him would be to get him in a damn bath.

It can’t be comfortable, sitting in all that grime…

“For the sake of transparency,” you begin when he seems like he will be open enough to listening. “I’ll tell you why I’m here. This is your space right now, and I don’t want to intrude on it unless I really need to.”

He doesn’t meet your gaze, but you sense you have his attention. “Given that right now you’re low on… strength, and not healing as you usually do, we need to take care of some of the worse wounds you have. If we don’t, it’s a risk of infection, and we don’t know how well you would fight that off in this state…”

You clear your throat, attempting to keep yourself on track. “So, if you’re able, we’d really like you to come out just for a moment, so we can fix up some of your sores. I promise that you can come right back in here afterwards, and that unless we have something really important we’ll leave you alone. Sound good?”

He doesn’t nod, doesn’t really move, but the way his eyes move to yours and hold your gaze for a bare second longer than you expect, you gather he’s not entirely against it. You offer him a smile, oddly proud of him. You’d seen firsthand how hard it can be to get out of these mindsets, even just for a moment. Effort is hard and that he’s making it means everything.

“Perfect,” you say, shifting in your spot so you can stand more easily. “Alright, I can help you up, if you’d like, or you can stand on your own if you want. What do y—”

Your hands had already begun to outstretch as you spoke, and you’re taken by surprise when before you even finish speaking his hand is whipping up to grab your wrist in a sort of monkey grip. You’re left blinking as you help him up, moving on autopilot. You expect him to release you as soon as he’s standing, but it adds to your surprise as he wobbles in place and retains his grip, if anything shuffling a little closer.

“Okay,” you say, angling your body and adjusting your grip so that it’s loose and as nonthreatening as possible. “Let’s go. Thank you for cooperating.”

Of course, there’s no response and he’s silent the whole way to the library. You remember that Sam is in there only as you approach the threshold, but unlike what you feared, Gabriel doesn’t seem to react too poorly to him like he apparently had earlier. Risking a glance his way reveals that actually, amongst the frayed and almost manic energy, he seems oddly… grounded, just for the moment.

Well, this is certainly going better than you’d anticipated.

x

“I went to bully Dean this morning, but he woke up before me and left before I could get to him.”

You’re in the process of cleaning the wounds around Gabriel’s mouth and removing the ugly stitches that have been sewn into his lips. As something to distract him as much as you from what you’re doing, you’ve begun chatting idly to the archangel, unbothered by the lack of response. Sam sits a metre or so away, researching for Dean who had apparently called earlier when you were coercing Gabriel out of his room.

Still Gabriel doesn’t hold your gaze, eyes averted as he leans forward in the chair for you to reach his mouth, but you can tell from the way his eyes occasionally flick to you as you speak that he is listening, somewhat. It’s enough of a win that you’re willing to take it.

He winces each time your alcohol swab goes over the entry point of a stitch, but doesn’t flinch away too badly. You’re pretty proud of him for that, actually, because it must hurt like a bitch.

“You got him yesterday, though,” Sam pipes in from the side, amused as he recalls your arrival. “Barely an hour after you got here and he was quitting and heading to bed.”

“It’s hard being so naturally talented,” you say, placing the swab down and reaching for the small scissors and tweezers. “I’m an absolute delight, and Dean should appreciate that!”

“Has anyone ever believed you when you told them that?” Sam asks, presumably referring to the ‘delight’ bit.

“Why wouldn’t they, Samuel?” you ask, giving the massive man a light spritz of stink-eye. “Do you have something to say to me?”

“Nothing you don’t already know,” he snorts in response, turning a page in the tome he currently has in his lap.

You bite your lip to hide your amused smile, turning back to Gabriel. You place your hand softly on his cheek to let him know that you’re about to go back in for the stitches, before raising the other tool and bringing it to the first of the thick threads woven through his flesh. Wincing, you try and snip it as delicately as possible. Now seems like a better time than any for more distractions.

“If you think I’m bad, you should be glad you never met my grandfather,” you inform the youngest Winchester, successfully severing the first stitch and beginning the icky job of pulling it out. Gabriel makes a muffled noise of pain but remains still, and you pat his hand softly in support. “He could stir the shit out of anyone, man. Like, I’m not even kidding. The bastard gene I got from him was actually watered down by the time it got to me, so count your lucky stars.”

Sam makes a noise of contemplation, like he really is taking the time to thank whatever powers that be— those apparently being Chuck, as you’ve heard— that you’re not more like your grandfather. Honestly, you’re not kidding—they really should be grateful. You loved your grandpa but you’d never met anyone so quick to stir whatever pot may present itself before them. An opportunist with bastardous tendencies, one might describe him.

In the silence that follows, you jump to another topic for the sake of distraction once more—you’re about to move onto another stitch.

“So, now that your mother is here, are you guys actually eating like normal human beings?” you ask, tongue pressed between your lips in concentration as you try to snip the thread as painlessly as possible by manoeuvring the small scissors. “Like, balanced meals with vegetables and shit?”

You hear Sam pause in the motion of turning a page, a scoff turning into a laugh as it climbs his throat. “What—homecooked meals? Our mom? Dude, she’s worse than Dean in the kitchen, and I really didn’t think that was possible.”

You pause your ministrations to face the tall man, squinting. “What? No way. No way is she worse than Dean—”

“We’ve had to replace the fire alarms twice already,” Sam says, meeting your gaze with a look that is full of both fondness and exasperation. He lets out a laugh at your flabbergasted face. “Dude, I wouldn’t believe it either if I hadn’t seen it for myself. You’ll see, whenever she gets back with Jack. She can’t cook but it doesn’t really stop her trying.”

“Another terrible chef joins the ranks,” you proclaim dramatically, pulling the stitch you were working on out and going in on the next one. “Oh, to be able to cook. I suppose this Jack kid is our last hope.”

“He’s not even a year old, y/n,” Sam says, deadpan. “I wouldn’t count on it. Also, you can cook, you’re just lazy.”

You shrug, making a face; he has you there. “I will neither confirm nor deny these allegations.”

Once more, you feel Sam roll his eyes behind you—he should get that checked if he’s rolling them so heavily you can feel it yourself. They’re not even eyes that are in your own skull, man.

You proceed to pull shit out of your ass as you take Gabriel’s mouth stitches out, the metal tin to the side soon filled with scraps of thick thread covered in dried blood and muck. The exit wounds where the thread had been have begun to well with blood, the wounds agitated by the removal of the stitches, and you bring a new cotton pad back with alcohol to clean them up. Gabriel hisses at the contact, and you rush out apologies under your breath as you finish up. You’d forgotten to warn him, and it’s only something small but you still feel bad.

“Alright, that’s done,” you announce, mostly to yourself. You look over him, deciding which wound to treat next, when your attention is drawn to the way he seems to be shaking a little on the spot. He’s not as grounded as he was earlier when he sat down with you, and even though you have much more work to do you can tell intrinsically that this is the most he can take right now. Dressing his other wounds would have to wait until tomorrow.

You turn to find Sam already giving the archangel a scrutinising look, apparently arriving at the same conclusion you had. He gives you a nod and you let out a soft breath, turning back to Gabriel and offering your hands should he need them.

“Okay, I think that’s enough for today. Let’s get you back to the room.”

You can only hope tomorrow will offer the same amount of progress as today.

prev. || next

[nad-zeta]

Compatibility Matchup (◕‿◕✿)

Greeting, My Queen!

I love reading all your match-ups! Like, I really do! 💕💕💕😆 If it’s okay, can I please request compatibility match-up with Nobunaga and Kenshin?

I’ll send you the details again hehe. I have a long and straight black hair, height barely reach 5'0. My zodiac is Scorpio but with Sagittarius moon and rising. INTP-A, ambivert but leans to introvert, only talk a lot with family and close friends, very shy with strangers, but I am polite generally. I am also a solo-traveler! (love traveling so much and will travel until I go broke)

I like readings, puzzle and strategy games like chess. But if I play them for too long my brain will get exhausted and I will need to take a nap ASAP to recharge, no matter what time of the day is it. I love jokes and pranks, and will do it to people who are close to me, and I won’t mind if they prank me back because it means WAR and I get to prank them as much as I can, until one of us admit defeat. I also will hype up and cheer if I see people sparing and fighting in martial-art competition because I love actions so much. 🔥🔥🔥

My biggest weakness is when I have negative emotions like sadness or anger, I tend to bury and forget about it, which makes me feel numb when something bad happen. During that time, I will appear cold and unbothered. (I am not unbothered, it just hard for me to express the sadness) Like when my beloved grandmother died, I didn’t shed any tears, but for few weeks my life was dull and I felt numb, faking smile everywhere I went. But I do cry occasionally if the bottled-up feelings are becoming too much, and will find a secluded spot to cry alone because I feel embarassed if people see me crying. 🥴

Lastly, I am not good with romance. I shy away from romantic gestures and PDA is a no no (might die from embarassment). Cannot flirt without face getting red as tomato (I am the type that will steal a kiss from someone I love and then quickly ker-vanish) Love to hug someone sneakily from back and sometime try to lift them or tickle them from behind. (I know it’s weird but I like doing that to my siblings)

SORRY if it’s too long and you can ignore it if you don’t want to do, I don’t mind. 😉 Thanks!!

Awww you are so freaken sweet!🥰❤☀️ I’m so happy you have been enjoying them, and of course, you can request one!🦋🦋 I love doing these, although they take me soooo long! 🙈😱Speaking of..... sorry for making you wait an eternity for this, hopefully, it will be a nice surprise to wake up to lol!☺🥰😳 Anyways I hope you enjoy this, dear! And I hope you have the best day! Thanks again for the request love! @cherrydangome​☺🥰

Okay so without further ado………….

Nobunaga 

Pros of dating Nobunaga 

The two of you will definitely have big shy introvert vs extrovert vibes going on

Like the chemistry and tension between the two of you is there and everyone in the room can see it

Naturally, it takes no time at all for Nobunaga to pull you out of your shell and get you to open up to him

It probably will happen very early on in your relationship TBH, like the second night when he insists you entertain him by *ahem* warming his bed

Of course, you are like hell NO! But that’s when you spot his array of board games in the corner of the room

He sees that excited glint in your eyes and he is like GAME ON

This is how your afternoon visits to play board games, turn into night time deep conversations and chats with the man.

The two of you are always engaged in some or other war

Be it a battle of Go, or a battle of wits

Did somebody say pranking wars?

The two of you cuties will forever be going head to head, pranking each other. Nobunaga hates to lose so you better be prepared to admit defeat

Of course you are just as stubborn as the man, which he low key loves cause no woman has ever challenged him so boldly and refused to back-down. Will wear his smug smile whenever you have pulled of a successful prank on the man

“Well then little fireball, i hope you are prepared for the swift revenge that awaits you”

His eyes will widen when you initiate an unexpected second attack right after his declaration at revenge, cue him smirking even wider, “You certainly are the most entertaining fireball”

He will low key invite you to play board games with him late at night just so he can watch you get sleepy and boldly plonk your head down on his lap so you can take a power nap before continuing on with the game.

You are forever surprising this man with you unexpected actions, just when he thinks he has you figured out, BOOM you surprise him

Nobunaga is a fellow travel lover, so I hope your bags are always packed and ready to go at a moments notice

Nobunaga will legit sneak into your room in the middle of the night to invite you to. sneak out the castle so the two of you can go on a fun trip together

The two of you give Hideyoshi all his grey hairs, cause he will be running around the castle searching for the two of you cuties, with a note in his hand left by Nobu

The note reads; “BRB we are going on an adventure make sure the castle doesn’t burn-down in my absence, monkey.”

He will legit take you with him, all over the world once his ambition has been reached. It is something that the two of you talk about quite often, planning out every detail of where the two of you would explore first.

Whenever the two of you are together it is always a lot of fun

His love language is physical touch, so during your outing expect to be spontaneously hugged and kissed

He absolutely adores the way your face lights up in embarrassment whenever he kisses you in public, he will legit tease you mercilessly just to see you go as red as a beet

You best be sure when the two of you are riding to your travelling destination this boy is gonna be playfully nibbling on your ear and kissing your neck, just to rile you up

LOTS OF TICKLE FIGHTS

Whenever Nobunaga teases you in public you are always sure to get him back by tickling him

All you have to do is send this man one sneaky glance, and he knows, you mean business, he will legit cup his ears and run away from you as fast as he can

Naturally, you would chase after him to get your sweet revenge, Cue Hideyoshi yelling at the two of you to spot running in the hallway

No one is safe once you and Nobunaga form a pranking alliance to prank the residents of Azuchi castle. The only way to guarantee safety from being pranked is to offer the two of you candy as payment

Nobunaga love love love it when you surprise him with hugs and kisses

If you want to make this soft boy melt, let him rest his head on your lap between meetings for a quick power nap, while you pull your fingers through his hair.

Nobunaga is a closet softy, so he will get super pouty if the love of his life isn’t giving him enough attention

His absolute favourite is to spend quiet evenings with you nestled in his arms as the two of you engage in your nightly battles of GO

Cons of dating Nobunaga

Nobunaga is not exactly what you would call in tune with his feelings, heck he didn’t really know what love was until he met you

So this poor boi is oblivious when it comes to recognizing when you are bottling up your feelings

It is only when he finally finds you crying alone from too many bottled up emotions that he realizes you have been going through a hard time

He 100% works on trying to become more in tune with his and your emotions

He knows something is up when he sees that strained fake smile on your face, but alas the job of conqueror is never done, and he has a full day of war councils to attend to before he can finally see you and find out what is wrong

The biggest con for Nobunaga is his super busy schedule, as sometimes it feels like there just isn’t enough time in the day to get all his tasks done. Thanks to Hideyoshi keeping him busy with meeting upon meeting, sometimes the two of you don’t see each other for days.

Only being able to exchange a few words and sneaky kisses in passing

Of course Nobunaga will try his hardest to make more time to spend with his beloved fireball

If he sees you are feeling sad or numb, he will legit cancel all his meetings for the day and seek you out

At first, he might not know how to help you out of your numb dull state, but you can always be sure he will be there for you.

He will wrap you in his warm embrace and just hold you while tenderly tracing soothing circles on your back until you feel better, or are ready to tell him what’s going on

He will gently coax you back to reality with sweet words and loads of affection

Will 100% demand you cry in front of him, cause how else is he supposed to perform his boyfriend duties and make you feel better. 

Even if you feel embarrassed, he will insist that whenever you are feeling sad that you interrupt the meeting or whatever he is busy with, so he can remind you just how much he absolutely loves and adores you.

Relationship score

So in ganna give this a solid 4.8/5

The two of you sweethearts are incredibly compatible. When you and Nobunaga are together, the room is always filled with laughs and good times. You and Nobunaga are always up to mischief, whether it is planning your next prank or running in the hallways stealing candy. With Nobunaga, your life will be one big fun adventure. You have taught Nobunaga how to love, and you continue to teach him, that it is okay to take a break every once and awhile, to do the things he loves. Like spend time with the love of his life and travel and explore fun places with you by his side. After-all, the castle will be left in Mamahens capable hands. The two of you cuties are most definitely a very affectionate couple, always exchanging a quick kiss or tight hug. You bring a sense of fun and wonder into Nobunaga’s life and allow him to be the soft, playful boi that he truly is. And for that, he will be eternally grateful. Although Nobunaga is new to the topic of emotions and both of you, tend to hide your emotions rather than confront it head-on. You both help each other to learn and grow and, be more open with each other about how you are feeling. Overcoming this obstacle helps your relationship to fully blossom. 

Overall the two of you cuties are incredibly compatible, and you can be 100% sure that Nobunaga will spend every day of his life showering you with love and adoration. After all, you are his queen, his dearest fireball, and the love of his life and he will remind you that everyday

Kenshin.

Pros of dating Kenshin

First major pro, well for Kenshin anyways, is that you love hugs and cuddles. This boy is 100% touched starved and absolutely loves to snuggle and cuddle you any free chance he can get

Your love for strategy games is what first bonds the two of you cuties together. Kenshin LOVES anything war, and that includes war/strategy games.

Sasuke legit invited you over for an innocent game night, and it was this act that sparked a strong friendship between you and the God of War

You were truly a challenging opponent and he loved that you could anticipate and match his every move.

Did someone say pranking war! The first time you pulled a prank on Kenshin, he was low key confused, but then Sasuke dramatically put his hand over his mouth and muttered that you had just openly declared war on their lord.

Cue Kenshins cute bunny eyes lighting up in excitement, of course, he could never go to war with his dearest goddess of war so, he snuck into your room one night, to strike a secret alliance with you

The next day the castle of Kasugayama was an all-out pranking battlefield.

If Sasuke wasn’t throwing fart bombs at the two of you, you and Kenshin was replacing all the residents water with vinegar. 

NO, ONE, WAS, SAFE

Naturally you and Kenshin came out on top, being crowned as the prank masters

The god and goddess of pranking if you will

The two of you cuties would definitely pull a few light, innocent pranks on each other, but be prepared cause Kenshin will get his revenge on you for pranking him via teasing you mercilessly

Kenshin loves it when you come up behind him and hug him! This act melts this soft bunny bois heart into a puddle of happiness

He will legit turn around in your arms and return the hug all while nuzzling you with his nose and showering your face in sweet little kisses

If you want to make this mans heart burst from pure happiness, cheer him on as he spars and trains with Sasuke and Yukimura

He will legit be beaming in absolute pride and joy, as you cheer him on

He will legit start showing off slightly, showing Sasuke and Yuki no mercy

During Banquets:

Kenshin; who wants to spar with me this banquet is boring

Yuki and Sasuke: Looking at you pleadingly, as you are the only person who can get Kenshin to see reason

You: Fight fight fight

Yuki and Sasuke: Runs away while you cheer Kenshin on

Kenshin knows you tend to shy away from PDA and romantic gestures so he will try his best to keep them to a minimum when the two of you cuties are out together. Although he will insist on holding your hand! This boy just wants to be close to you and protect you at all times

If he is feeling a little playful, he will steal sneaky little kisses from your lips during banquets which make you flare up in embarrassment. He will then smile the most beautiful of smiles and pull you into his arms, so that you are comfortably seated on his lap. He will then hide your beet-red face against his chest. Cause he is the only one privileged enough to get to see your flustered expressions.

Hehe speaking of sneaky kisses, whenever you give him a sneaky kiss and then Ker-vanish, he is left in the middle of the hallway with his cheeks dusted in a light pink hue. Who taught you to be so freaken cute

Sometimes he will sense you coming and catch you in his arms before you pull your Ker-vanishing act and shower your face with tiny kisses as he tickles you.

What is Kenshin’s absolute all-time favourite, well that’s easy! Whenever he is getting tired or bored during a war councils, there is just one thing that will give him energy and the will to carry on. And that is when you bring the warlords some tea and snacks and while no one is looking, hug Kenshin from behind while kissing his cheek.

His sour bored expression will 180 into the biggest smile

Another pro with Kenshin is he is a rather emotional person and knows how it feels to be trapped in the dark of your own mind, feeling nothing but numbness

He will pick up fairly quickly if you are faking a smile or acting cold and dull

This boy will end all meetings immediately for the day, gently take your hand and pull you to your shared room

Once you are inside, he will immediately wrap you in a warm blankie and summon the bunnies to cuddle you, while he makes the two of you some tea

Will then wrap you up in a warm embrace while nuzzling your neck and soothingly pulling his long fingers through your soft hair as he coaxes you to tell him why you are feeling upset

Anyone who dares bring his sweet goddess of war to tears better prepare themselves to face the wrath of Kenshin and his bunny army

He will kiss and wipe away every tear as he reaffirms his undying love for you

What is one more big pro of dating Kenshin, you may ask? Well, his man adores your long black hair! Like he is literally in heaven whenever you are in his arms, and he is playing with your long hair. It’s just so soft and silky smooth. 

Loves it when you tell him all about your day as he just spends hours pulling his fingers through your hair. Bonus points if you coax him to lay down on your lap as you tenderly caress his hair and face

Cons of dating Kenshin

SO Kenshin is not exactly an introvert per se, but he is most definitely an odd duck that has spent his life avoiding woman at all costs! So you already have a disadvantage the first time you meet Kenshin, you know, being a woman and all.

And considering you are a sweet shy bean at first, it definitely takes a lil while for the both of you to get comfortable around each other to start opening-up

But once you start joining them for their weekly game nights, Kenshin catches a glimpse of that strong wonderful personality, and well he can’t help but fall absolutely head over heels for you

Another con with this cute bunny boy is the fact that he is trying to protect you 24/7. HE has finally found a second chance at love and no way is he gonna let anyone or anything pull him apart from his dearest soulmate

He knows you love travelling but this sweet boi can’t help but feel slightly anxious whenever you leave the castle without him, even if it’s just to go shopping

He will insist on coming with you, and as your relationship progresses he comes to realize just how strong and independent his goddess of war is, and starts to relax slightly

Although in saying that, the first few weeks of your relationship, you are basically stuck in the castle, cause of Kenshin’s fears and traumas

Which brings me to the next con, Kenshin has been deeply hurt in his past and has trouble moving on and allowing himself to heal and grow, so you will need to be patient with bunny boy and provide him with plenty of love and reassurance

Although you are always there to help and support Kenshin, chasing away his every fear and anxiety, through nights spent holing him tight in your arms. And days spent just reassuring him and spending time with him and the buns

He is eternally thankful to you for granting him a second chance at love and thanks to your strength and endurance, the two of you learn and grow together. Finally, Kenshin is not haunted by his past and is sure to take you on any and every trip your heart desires.

Just say the word and he will have the horses packed and ready to go, leaving Sasuke to care for and handle all castle affairs

The two of you even reach that point of endless trust, love and communication that he finally caves to your request of wanting to tag along when they go to war, so you can heal the sick and wounded

There is no hiding your sadness or tears from Kenshin, this boy has a network of secret spy bunnies that will 100% out you if they see or sense you are upset

The bunnies will legit keep you company, cuddling and nuzzling you until Kenshin arrives

This boy be possessive, so be warned, like I said he is aware you don’t like PDA, BUT if some creeper thinks he can lay his hands or even eyes on his beloved soul mate, he has another thing coming

Kenshin will try and control his seething rage for the disgusting daimyo who are trying to win your favour, but at some point, he just can’t anymore

He will legit put his arm around your waist and pulls you flush against his body as he gives you a passionate kiss filled with love, need and desire. He will hold you in his arms for the duration of the meeting showing the man just who your fiancé is

Even the bunnies follows suit in their God of war’s possessive behaviour and hop into your lap cuddling you as they glare daggers at any man or woman who is not Kenshin

Relationship score

I score this relationship, a solid 5 out of 5 hehe

I think the two of you are incredibly compatible. It may take some time and effort to work together to heal from traumas of the past, but once the two of you have climbed and conquered that mountain together, it is smooth sailings. Kenshin will be a very very loving and doting partner and you will never be in need of cuddles or snuggles, cause if you are not in Kenshin’s warm arms you are being nuzzled by your army of bunnies. Kenshin would move heaven and earth if it would bring a smile to your face, and you will have this man wrapped around your little finger. He will instantly drop any important duties just to tend to you. He will be devoted to you for life and will spend everyday cherishing you and showering you with absolute endless amounts of love and affection. 

Your relationship will be filled with sweet hugs and kisses, and be sprinkled with the occasional touch of playfulness. There will never be a dull moment in your life with Kenshin, in the rowdy Kasugayama castle. 

All and all everyone has their flaws, but I think the two of you will be able to accept each other flaws and shortcoming wholeheartedly and live a long, happy life together

Hehehe its actually been so long since I’ve done these lol I hope you enjoyed it, dear (side note sorry if it’s different from previous ones- I legit low key forgot how I have been doing these) 🙈🙈🙈😅

Anyways hope you have the best day! Sending you a ton of hugs! ❤❤🥰☺

[ruelpsen]

Ruelpsen Writes #3: Lunch Troubles

… Because if I’m going to keep doing this, I suppose I need a name and a tag (#ruelpsen writes) for my writing.

A, while making lunch for their partner B, accidentally slips in real cheese- something B’s stomach is intolerant to. B doesn’t realize this until it’s too late, which happens to be during the middle of their workday, of course. Not too nsfw this time, but there’s some stuffing and there might be some eprocto stuff in there (it’s not something I’m super into as I am with burps, but enough people on here like it well enough that I figured I could try my hand at writing it).

Enjoy!

B looked up at the clock on the wall of their cubicle again. It was now 1:37 and well past their normal lunchtime. But on the bright side, they’d finally put in that last push to complete the summary they’d been writing. With a few final keystrokes, they wrapped up the big project they’d spent the last two weeks working on. B was used to putting in long hours of writing and revising like this, and very well knew they’d work up an appetite that day. They had told their partner, A, the previous evening that they’d be finishing their big project today- so of course A packed them a big lunch to get them through the day, which included some sweet treats for B to eat in celebration of being done.

B sighed in relief upon emailing their boss the final draft. As soon as they’d done so, they got up from their desk and practically raced to the communal fridge to get their lunch. They smiled upon opening it and seeing that it was still all there- which was a relief considering A had packed them so much that they needed two bags to hold it all! They grabbed both and swiftly headed back to their desk, stopping briefly on their way to grab themself a new mug of coffee.

Once back at their desk, B tore into the first bag. A had packed B some of their favorite snack cakes… and given the circumstances, B decided to make it a dessert first day. They polished off the cakes (all six of them!) in a couple minutes, chasing them with a hearty swig of coffee. They wiped their lips with the back of their hand before tilting their head back and burping loudly. B could hear someone in an adjacent cubicle make a small noise of disgust, but it didn’t bother them whatsoever- rather, they patted their gut and brought up a smaller afterburp in response before turning their attention back to their lunch. There were still more treats in the first bag, but they opted to save those to serve as a real dessert. They opened the second bag and found a pair of reuben sandwiches (their favorite), made with a cheese substitute instead of real cheese due to B’s mild lactose intolerance. That much real cheese wouldn’t make them sick, but it would make them unpleasantly gassy. And that’s not something they needed in the middle of their workday…

B wolfed down the first half of one sandwich in almost a flash. Damn, did it taste good. They’d throw glances over to the entry of their cubicle to make sure no one was watching as they rubbed their stomach blissfully as they ate. Sure, everyone around them was used to their piggish sounds by now, but nobody needed to actually see just how much B was savoring the act of eating. Thankfully, today wasn’t too busy a day and they could rub their gut to their stomach’s content. And damn, did that feel good. So good that B felt ready to-

“uuuuurrrrrOOOOOORRRRRP!”

B was caught off guard by an unexpectedly loud, forceful belch. Nevertheless, they couldn’t help but sigh from how good that made them feel. Anyway, they felt ready to finish off that first sandwich. The sandwiches were both big, but B still had plenty of room- and that satisfying burp freed up yet more space. They devoured the second half before taking another short break to rub, pat, and see how much more gas they could expel before moving on to the second sandwich. Their stomach grumbled deeply as they felt a pocket of air rise, followed by another belch, this one longer than the first but much deeper. Fuck, did that feel good to get out, especially since B’s stomach was starting to feel a little… off. They didn’t feel sick, per se, but their stomach was definitely riled up by something. It churned and growled loudly, causing B to stop a moment just to listen. Had the snack cakes or sandwich upset it a little? B couldn’t be sure given how quickly they were eating. And it wasn’t too concerning, they thought. Besides, they still had another sandwich left to enjoy- they could enjoy that and then deal with the consequences of whatever their stomach was doing, especially since they weren’t so pressed for time with their work as they had been before.

Without further ado, B began to work at the second sandwich. They ate their way through it more slowly than they had the first, given that they were starting to feel pretty full (and their overactive stomach wasn’t helping with that). They’d stop every few bites for more stomach rubs, bringing up some pretty hefty burps each time. The groans of annoyance from the cubicles around them did nothing to dissuade them from this. B would just sigh contently and return to eating, now savoring every bite.

And that’s when they realized something was off. Something about the sandwich didn’t taste quite right… and they’d realized that with only a couple bites to go. They ate those last two up without thinking before it dawned on them what was wrong. It tasted like there was real cheese on them. Had A made some sort of mistake? Was B wrong? They had no idea- but three hours to deal with their irritated gut regardless.

B told themself they’d be fine and decided to go for the last dessert- a small stack of cookies A had lovingly baked for them. They ate those slowly, taking the time to enjoy how big each new bite was making their gut feel. They were still gone in a matter of minutes, prompting B to pat their stomach upon completion of their meal. Their stomach grumbled loudly again before-

“BUUUUUUUUUURRRR-urrrrrr-ORRRRRRRRP!!!”

“God, you’re disgusting,” a cubicle neighbor spat loudly enough for B to hear. B did feel slightly embarrassed this time. Normally they’d allot themself one good burp at lunch as to not be too gross, but today they just kept coming. They could already feel another trying to work its way up. B clenched their mouth shut and tried to keep it in. In response, they let out a loud, long fart- and promptly belched regardless of their efforts to suppress it. Yeah, something was definitely off about their lunch.

B still had three more hours before they were to head home. They weighed their options- they could either leave early and not get paid or try to tough it out, maybe taking some time in the bathroom to let some of the gas out. They opted for the latter, figuring that they’d be okay enough to make it through the rest of their workday (especially if they were able to relieve themself somewhat).

With that decided, B got back to work on a smaller project. It was getting hard to focus given how noisy and uneasy their stomach was, so they figured it was time to head to the bathroom to try and let some of the gas out. As they stood up, one of their coworkers appeared.

“Hey, B, here’s what our boss told me to bring you now that you’re done with-”

“bwooo-URRRRP!”

Thanks to B’s gut shifting as they stood, they let out a loud, short belch, damn close to being right in their coworker’s face. B clasped their hands over their mouth in sheepish embarrassment as their coworker sneered in disgust.

“I am so, so sorry,” B apologized profusely. “I’ll just, uh…” they mumbled, blushing, grabbing the small stack of papers their coworker had brought them. “I’ll take care of this. So sorry.”

“Sure you are,” their coworker muttered before leaving. B would never try to be that rude to someone, but today they just couldn’t hold back. They tossed the papers onto their desk before making a beeline to the restroom, cautious to not jostle their stomach too much in order to prevent such an encounter again. They thankfully made it there without incident, heading straight to a stall so they could belch and fart in peace.

B loosened their belt slightly before beginning to rub their belly. Man, were they stuffed! B started belching almost immediately, their loud, bassy burps echoing off the walls. Every so often they’d let out loud farts, some of them pretty foul-smelling. B could now tell that yes, it must have been real cheese on those sandwiches, for nothing else they ate could have made their farts that bad. They belched and farted for quite some time, enjoying how good that made their aching midsection feel. But as enjoyable as it was, their belly still ached and it felt like they were no less gassy than they did when they entered. Maybe they should have just gone home.

B checked their watch again. They’d been in there for quite some time now, and still had two more hours of work ahead of them. Going home sounded good, but there were still things that needed to get done. B decided to head back to their desk and see how things progressed. Right as they were about to exit the stall they occupied, another coworker entered the restroom- or was about to, but gagged at the stench and took a moment to decide if they really needed to go that badly. At that same moment, B could feel another pocket of pressure begin to rise.

“hic-urrrrRRRRRAAAAAAAP!”

“Damn,” the coworker exclaimed before leaving.

B spent a few more minutes working out yet more gas. They still didn’t feel any better. They finally headed back to their desk, groaning as they sat back down before releasing a short fart. They sighed and opened up other projects on their computer and spread out some papers on their desk so it would at least look like they were doing something.

As time passed, they did their best (to little avail) to suppress their gas. They were able to bring up their burps more quietly than before, but it was still embarrassing that they simply couldn’t stop. They knew their coworkers were disgusted, even though they couldn’t help but be that gassy.

Eventually, B’s boss appeared at their desk. B gulped anxiously.

“Great work on that report,” their boss said. “Since it’s 4 o’clock on a Friday and you’ve done so much this week, why don’t you head home early. You’ll still get paid for this next hour, so feel free to head out when you’d like.”

“Thank you so much,” B said, wincing slightly as they held back a burp.

“You feeling alright?” their boss asked.

“Nouuurrrrp! Ugh… no, not really,” B answered. “I’d be happy to head right home. Thanks.”

“Anytime. See you Monday.”

With that, their boss left, and B instantly began to pack up their things. Once back on their feet, they made a dash to the elevator, letting out another massive belch as soon as the doors shut, following it up with a particularly rancid fart. They couldn’t help but feel sorry for whatever poor soul was going to be in there next.

B kept burping and farting as they drove home. The ache in their gut was only getting worse. B wanted to be mad at A when they got home, but they knew not to be- the cheese had probably been a mistake, after all. B reached their house without incident and headed right in to find A in the kitchen, making themself a grilled cheese. A didn’t look up until they heard B belch deeply.

“Well hi,” A said, looking up at B. “Oh, darling, you look miserable. I’m so sorry.”

“What the hell did you do to my lunch?” B asked.

“I mixed up where I’d put your fake cheese after dinner last night,” A explained. “I’d put it where I normally put my cheese and put my cheese in its place. I made your lunch afterward with the wrong stuff and didn’t realize it until I was making myself a sandwich just now. I’m so, so sorry.”

“I’m just glad I was able to come home early,” B said before belching again. “Man, am I a stuffed, gassy mess.”

“Let’s sit on the couch and I can help you with that,” A said. B sat down on the couch (forcing up another burp, of course) as A fetched some stomach-soothing medication before joining B. B took some before sitting down on A’s lap, sighing contently as A began to rub their belly. B continued to belch for A and fart in their lap for quite some time- but eventually, they finally managed to feel better and fell right asleep, feeling ever so full of both food and love.

[secretsofthedarkestkind-arch]

Ramble part 4 for season 1 episode 1. Twenty minutes left to go. The further I get into this I might be braver to move away so much from canon. I don’t really have faith in myself to write these characters but I’m going to try. At least some of them. 

As always triggers are tagged if I miss something please tell me.

Word count: 3,085-- longest one yet

Part One Part Two Part Three

@storieswrittcn​ (Tell me what you think, just don’t kill Caroline yet.)​

Lee was leaning against the lockers, her back and the sole of one converse touching the metal,  when the bell finally rang to dismiss the current class period. There wasn’t any reason to scurry off knowing if a teacher saw her she’d just get into more trouble. The brunette could have just left the building, gone back to the boarding house, but she actually wanted to see what Stefan was going to say. Of course, she didn’t want a lecture but to see him riled up somewhat gave her a thrill. She was bolder than she’d been when they were younger. Seventeen or even eighteen year old Lee wouldn’t have questioned authority like she just had. Seemed dear Stefan was the same. 

She’d seen the beginning fires of jealousy spark in his eyes due to the look Elena was giving her. The regret that it hadn’t been him to step up. Little did her brother know he didn’t need to worry. Lee had no interest in the young doppelganger, she was a knock off of the original. That didn’t mean she wouldn’t try to befriend her; out of necessity for what was to come and out of boredom. Besides, the toad needed to be put in his place. 

Stefan was one of the first out of the room, his features a mixture of sulking and pure anger. Lee didn’t fear the anger as she might have when she was still human. Her brother gripped her arm above her elbow, his enhanced strength stinging as his fingers dug into her skin. He might be weaker than she was because of his source of blood but that didn’t mean when he was angry his touch wasn’t enough to make her want to hiss. Lee didn’t though, refusing to give him that much satisfaction. 

He drug her away from the other prying eye, especially of two specific people, toward their own lockers. “What the hell was that?” Stefan snapped out, not so nicely pushing Lee against the metal. 

“Careful,” Lee warned, her own lips starting to curl into a snarl. “Your precious Elena is watching and you wouldn’t want her to start to think you’re violent on top of being a coward would you?” She taunts. Stefan looked from the corner of his eye to see Lee was in fact right. Bonnie and Elena had followed them but stood a few feet away both watching. The older sibling let go of her arm and opened his locker. “All I did was put that ass in his place. He was baiting people, just to belittle them when they failed. You know I can’t stand men like that.”

“You should have just left it. You’re lucky he didn’t do more than kick you out into the hall.” Stefan sighed, trying to pull his temper in.

“Lucky?” Lee asked more than amused. “Why? Because I was stirring things up? Please, Stefan. Me acting like a rebellious, disrespectful sixteen year old is not what Zach was talking about last night.” She rolls her eyes, “Don’t hide behind excuses like you always do.” 

Stefan slammed his locker closed, eyes narrowed at Lee who didn’t back down. “I don’t hide behind excuses.” The vampire ground out between clenched teeth.

“You do and you always have,” She took a small step closer, “Just as you’ve let the words of others guide your actions.” Excluding when you were a ripper, Lee thinks. 

“You’re just as bad as Damon.” Stefan looks her up and down, “Why did I think asking you for help was a wise decision?”

She’s about to tell him she’s more than likely worse than their elder brother when a throat clears behind them. Lee looks past Stefan’s shoulder to see Elena standing there with Bonnie. The young witch is giving Stefan a distrustful look while Elena seems almost hesitant to interrupt, books tucked tightly against her chest. “Hey,” Lee exhales, moving from the lockers to stand closer to the two girls. 

“Hey,” Elena says tucking some hair behind her ear. “I just--well, we really--wanted to say thank you.”

“What you did was pretty badass. I don’t think anyone has ever tried to take Mr.Tanner down a few pegs like that.” Bonnie gives Lee her attention.

Lee knows Stefan is hating the attention she’s getting, to be honest, she’s not enjoying it either. “You don’t have to thank me. He was pushing my buttons. His last gibe was just too much of a low blow to ignore. People like him piss me off.” Lee explains, “I would have done it even if his words hadn’t been directed at either of you.” She shrugs trying to brush the compliments off.

“Right,” Bonnie gives her a smile that is supposed to be knowing but couldn’t be farther from the truth. 

“You’re still coming to the falls tonight, right?” Elena asks almost hopefully.

“We are,” Stefan finally cuts in. Both girls look at him before waiting on Lee to answer.

“I told Caroline I’d be there, I try to always keep my word.” Lee adjusts the satchel over her shoulder.

“And Caroline is the only reason you’re going?” Bonnie asks. She’s as much trouble as Emily was, Lee can just feel it.

“More like for a beer and some music,” Lee counters. The brunette purposely grabs the strap of her satchel that’s across her chest with her left hand, hoping the two will see her daylight ring and take a damn hint. If they see it, they don’t say anything. The warning bell for next period rings out. “And with that, I’m off to art. I’ll see you all later.” 

-----

Lee can’t remember the last time she’d been to the falls and she didn’t think it had ever been for a party. With her cell phone in hand, the vampire looked through her closet once more. She wasn’t exactly wanting to draw attention to herself, more because yet again another day had gone by without Katherine replying. Lee knew it wasn’t because she was in danger. Niklaus was far enough from New York that it wasn’t a worry. No, her lover’s silence was likely due to the joke of a June wedding. It was only a seven hour drive from their loft in New York to Mystic Falls, Lee could only hope Katherine wasn’t planning on showing up this early.

But if she did, Lee didn’t want the attention of three teenage girls or more on her. “Presentable but understated,” She mutters, free hand reaching for a pair of darker gray skinny jeans tossing them on the bed behind her. “Not Daddy but not a slob.” Her eyes scanned her tops, grabbing a lighter grey tank top paired with a black and grey flannel. “Maybe a little daddy…” Lee can’t help the snort of laughter that follows. Katherine knew who she’d chosen to spend eternity with. She tosses the shirts back onto the bed also. “Shoes…” Lee wasn’t going to ruin a pair of converse just to get to the falls, “Maybe something a little less teenager….” She grabs a slimmer pair of black suede Timberland boots. “Perfect.”

-----

The music hit her ears before they could truly see the group of teenagers, “Aren’t they worried they’re going to get caught?” She questioned but didn’t expect an answer from Stefan. He’d been broody the rest of the day since their scene in the hallway. “Oh come on, you can’t ignore me forever.” Still nothing. “Just tell her, I’m not who she thinks I am. Not a lie,” Lee moves to walk backward so she can look at her brother. “Tell her, I’m an ass.” She holds up one finger, “That I’m...arrogant.” Another finger. “That I have too many walls to break down, that I’m already in a committed relationship.” Two more fingers. “Oh! If you really want to stop her, tell her that I still suck my thumb.” That caused a smile to start at the corners of his lips, “Still suck your thumb?”

“I don’t but she doesn’t need to know that.” Lee shrugs, she paused for him to catch up and linked their arms together. “I’m not Damon, Stef. I don’t want your girl. I have my own and I’d die before I ever thought of cheating on her.” Either by her own hand or Katherine’s.

“When am I going to meet this woman that’s stolen your heart?” Stefan asks, “It’s been how many decades now?”

“You might sometime soon. But for now, she stays a mystery.” Lee tells him. “Our family and loved ones don’t mix.”

----

They finally made it toward the picnic area, students everywhere. Lee un-linked her arm from Stefan’s to avoid being hit by an over enthusiastic jock who clearly was already three sheets to the wind. She looks around, taking it all in, briefly wondering what it would have been like to grow up like this. Her aunt used to say Lee  was a soul gifted long before her correct time. The brunette could see herself here, with these teens-- not worrying about running, family feuds that lasted over a century. This could have been her time. But it just hadn’t been. She swallows roughly, she’d been born when she had been so she could be on that train in 1862. She had to believe that. The alternative was depressing. 

Stefan came to a stop, Lee knew what he was doing and used her own hearing to try and find someone they’d know. “Just admit it, Elena.” Bonnie’s playful tone fills her ears, Lee taps Stefan’s arm.

“Oh, okay, so he’s a little pretty.” Elena seems to hesitantly admit. Lee turns to her brother with a smirk and an entertained glint in her eyes.

“Seems you’re perfectly fine in her eyes,” Lee teases, they both look until they find the girls by a bonfire.

“He has that romance novel stare.” Bonnie argues. Stefan starts to let a smile cross his lips and Lee laughs.

“That’s a new one,” She mutters.

“Stefan looked--” Lee stopped listening with a groan as Stefan’s smile grew. 

“And now I need something stronger than beer.” Stefan pushed her side lightly. “Come on lover boy, stop listening and start living.” He starts to follow after her when Caroline jumps in front of them.

“Hey, you made it!” Lee can see the joy in her eyes, over which one of them she isn’t sure yet. But the blonde is happy to see them.

Lee gives her a friendly smile, small nod of her head, her hands moving to tuck into her back pockets. “Yeah.”

“I did.” Stefan tells her, his own small smile on his lips, hands moving into his front pockets. They aren’t siblings at all.

“Well, let’s get you a drink.” Her attention solely on Stefan. Lee knows a train wreck is about to happen. Can see the gears turning in Stefan’s head about how to get out of this. Lee only prays he uses a little tact for this. 

“Well, I’m---” He tries to start.

“Oh, come on.” She grabs his hand from his pocket to tug him off. Stefan looks at her almost helpless.

“Rather you than me,” Lee mouths she can’t hide her mirth at the situation, but follows after them. Really just to find the drinks. 

She’s only a few steps behind them when she feels the air change, almost as if it’s electrically charged. Lee knows that feeling all too well, magic; uncontrolled, strong magic. The vampire stops, head snapping back to find Bonnie again. The scent feeling her nostrils telling her that it’s from the Bennett line. That kind of magic loose in a crowd of unsuspecting teenagers spells bad. Lee just starts to walk toward them when Bonnie jerks her hand away from the beer bottle where her hand had been resting on Elena’s.

“What?” Elena asks not knowing how to take the small moment they just had.

“That was weird,” Bonnie is overwhelmed. Her voice unsteady. “When I touched you, I saw a crow.” Those words stop Lee once more in her tracks. Damon…

“What?” Now Elena is the one starting to become overwhelmed. Lee can only imagine why, she’s been right all along.

“A crow.” Bonnie repeats as she tries to recall what she’d seen, “There was fog, a man.” Elena’s heartbeat skyrockets. She’s slightly panicking now. “I’m drunk. It’s the drinking,” Bonnie is trying to calm her friend down. “There’s nothing psychic about it.” She takes the bottle away from Elena. “Yeah? Okay. I’m gonna get a refill.” 

“Okay?” Elena isn’t sure what just happened. “Bonnie!” 

Lee cuts through the crowd, weaving until she’s at the young witch’s side. Bonnie jumps slightly. “Don’t do that,” She chuckles still unsteady, she goes to bump Lee but the vampire avoids it. She can’t let Bonnie accidentally pick up on something.

“Didn’t mean to scare you. You alright?” Lee asks genuinely concerned.

“What? Yeah!” Bonnie brushes her off. “Just getting a refill. Did you just get here?”

“Mm-hmm, Stefan got dragged away by Caroline. I was just on the hunt for a drink when I saw you. Care to show me where I can find that beer I mentioned earlier today?” She gives her a charming smile. 

Bonnie laughs with a nod, “Yeah, come on.” 

----

Stefan and Elena had disappeared off together, not something Lee hadn’t expected. But that did leave her alone with Caroline and Bonnie. They’d found themselves on one of the lower bridges talking. They didn’t seem like bad people. Bonnie was someone who truly cared about Elena, was a real best friend. The parallels between Katherine/Emily and Elena/Bonnie kept growing, but each set was vastly different. It almost sucked that when this was all over whatever friendship she built with the youngest Bennett would be ruined. 

Caroline though, Lee just hoped the teen made it out of this alive. The more time she spent with the blonde the more of a tortured soul Lee saw. To most the blonde would see selfish, conceded, overly flirty. But like the night before Lee saw something more. She was lost, no clue of where she belonged or if she did. She didn’t seem like anyone’s first pick, brushed aside for someone-- Elena-- else. She needed a friend that wouldn’t judge or use her for her social rank within the halls of Mystic Falls High.  “So is Elena really your brother’s type?”

Lee takes a long drag from her beer bottle, “I’m not really sure.” Partly true. The two hadn’t really been around each other long enough in decades for her to really answer that. But she did know Elena had his attention--if that was because she looked like Katherine or something more, Lee wasn’t sure. 

“How do you not know?” Bonnie asked outwardly doubting her.

“We don’t really do the whole deep talking thing,” Lee set her bottle down on the ledge behind her. “We don’t bond over girls. He does his thing and I do mine.”

“So you are…” Caroline starts but can’t seem to bring herself to finish what she’s assuming.

“Gay...lesbian?” Lee chuckles, “Yes, I am. If my clothes at times aren't enough of a giveaway.” Not that Lee dressed how she did to fit a stereotype. These clothes were just more comfortable; less suffocating and more her. She studies Caroline’s face, “Does that make you uncomfortable?”

“No!” Caroline jumps to reassure her, taking a step closer. “No, not at all.” She rests a hand on Lee’s arm.

“We’re open-minded,” Bonnie adds in. “We live in the year 2009. We might be in a small town, but that doesn’t mean we’ll judge you. Other people, can’t really say anything about them.”

Lee uses the arm Caroline is holding to grab her beer again, a sly way to get out of the grip, “That’s good to know.” 

“Do you have a type?” The blonde ventures, that flirtatious glint back.

“Caroline!” Bonnie chides.

Lee laughs again, “It’s alright Bonnie.” She takes a breath, “I’m already in a relationship.”

“Oh, I sense an epic love story,” Bonnie wiggles her eyebrows.

“Is she here in Mystic Falls?” Caroline doesn’t seem defeated yet, she’s going to see what her options are.

“Maybe,” Lee acknowledges Bonnie first. “And no,” Her eyes travel back to Caroline. “She’s not. We’re doing long distance at the moment.”

“That can’t be easy. Don’t you think you deserve someone who's right in front of you?” Caroline bites her lower lip.

The blonde is almost as bad as the Sommers’ girl back in 1864. God, Lee hopes Katherine isn’t anywhere near the falls. Lee raises a brow, “You’re shameless aren’t you?”

“Does that bother you?” Caroline takes a step closer and Lee can hear Bonnie mumbling something under her breath.

“No, it doesn’t.” Lee takes a step back, “But I love her.” Lee’s got to find a way to shut this down.

“Mysterious, badass, a charmer, and loyal even when there’s a chance she would never find out? She’s a lucky girl.” Bonnie cuts in and Lee is so thankful.

“I’m just me,” Lee mutters before taking another drink.

At that moment, Matt joins them. “I found them.”

“Hm?” Caroline hum slowly, turning her eyes away from Lee. “Who?”

“Stefan and Elena,” He nods to a bridge further up and all four turn to look.

“Cozy,” Lee comments.

“Romantic,” Bonnie throws out.

“Predictable.” Caroline grumbles.

Bonnie looks at Caroline as if she had two heads, “You were just all--”

“I know,” Caroline cuts her off. “Still, predictable.”

Lee turns away, she goes to say something when she hears Elena ask Stefan if he’s okay. Her head snaps back, trying to figure out what’s going on. Stefan moves away from the doppelganger.

“Oh, um…” He starts rubbing his eyes, face. “Yeah, no. It’s, um, it’s nothing.” He tries to explain away what Lee can only guess is his eyes changing. 

“Excuse me,” Lee sets her bottle down, starting to move away from the small group.

“Where are you going?” Caroline asks.

Lee points up to the two on the bridge, “Stef doesn’t seem the best.” She catches Bonnie’s eyes, “What’s the fastest way up there?” She could use her abilities but with how many people that are here someone would surely see.

“I’ll take you,” Bonnie reassures her.

“He seems fine now.” Matt breaks in. “He’s leaving her.”

Lee glances up to see Stefan moving away from Elena, “--get us a drink.” The younger Salvatore sighs. He’s got to get this shit under control.

[kurokoros]

can’t keep my (hands to myself) | sp

Title: can’t keep my (hands to myself)

Rated: T? (suggestive themes at the end)

Words: 3658

Pairing: Sweet Pea x reader

Summary: Prompt: You’re afraid you’ll lose me in big crowds so you hold my hand but now you hold my hand around like 5 people and I’m getting suspicious. AKA: five times Sweet Pea holds your hand and the one time you hold his first.

I don’t know what this is. It got angsty. I’m confused and have a fever. Let me know if you want a more coherent second part that would be more adult. Or if you want a series about characters being unable to keep their hands to themselves.

1.

The first time it happens you don’t think anything of it.

It’s the Serpents’ first day at Riverdale High and everything is tense, more so than usual. Fangs is abnormally jumpy and Sweet Pea is angrier than normal, restless and ready to pick a fight with anyone who so much as breathes in his direction, much to your chagrin. And things only get worse as the day goes on.

The hallways of Riverdale High are already crowded by the time the Serpents get there, swelling with a mixture of hostility and restless energy at the arrival of the Southside students. More than one fight breaks out before classes even begin, the Bulldogs taunting and the Serpents quick to strike back. Sweet Pea is the worst of them, easy to rile up and loyal to a fault. He’s right there, anytime someone even looks at one of the Serpents the wrong way, and you would roll your eyes if you weren’t mildly overwhelmed by the aggressive stares from the Northside students.

It’s worse than Southside High, if you’re being honest, because while Serpents and Ghoulies were always at each others’ throats there was always a kind of understanding between the groups. The Ghoulies had a space and the Serpents had there’s and most of the time everyone respected that. It would only cause bigger problems if people didn’t.

But the Serpents don’t have a place at Riverdale High, not yet, and that becomes apparent very early on between the hostile looks and whispered comments too loud to be unintentional. Everyone is a little on edge because of it, and that causes everyone to start forming smaller groups in some strange kind of buddy system.

Because your schedules are nearly identical, you end up with Sweet Pea. It should be fine. The two of you have been friends for a while now, you get along perfectly well, and while Sweet Pea is a hothead, he always means well.

And it wouldn’t be a problem except Sweet Pea somehow gets it in his head that he’s going to lose you in the crowded hallways. Sweet Pea is tall, at least a foot taller than you, and because of this, you spend the short walk to your first period English class with him glancing over his shoulder every five seconds to make sure you’re still there. It causes several near accidents and a brief altercation with some football jock before you manage to pull him away.

It continues like that for most of the day, you trailing slightly behind him and Sweet Pea constantly checking to make sure you hadn’t suddenly disappeared on him. The only difference is that by then people have learned to move around him.

It’s not until the two of you are headed for your history class in the afternoon that Sweet Pea becomes fed up with this arraignment. He huffs and reaches back to grab you by the hand, yanking you up against his side. “Keep up, Short Stuff. We don’t have all day.” While he sounds annoyed, you know him well enough to hear the teasing edge to his words.

You roll your eyes. “We can’t all be giraffes, Sweet Pea,” you snap back. You may be short, but that doesn’t make you incapable of taking care of yourself.

“Am I going to have to buy one of those child leashes for you?” He laces your fingers together, cocking his head to the side as he glances down at you, quirking a brow.

“Only if you want to lose your hand.”

Sweet Pea grins, fingers squeezing around yours. “Come on, Feisty.”

2.

The second time it happens, you still don’t think anything of it.

The Wyrm is as crowded as ever on a Friday night, packed to capacity with Serpents both young and old. The music is loud and some of the younger Serpents are already way beyond tipsy, much to your amusement. Usually, you’d be working the bar tonight with Toni, but somehow you both scored the night off, Hog Eye being unusually generous.

More likely is that Fangs and Sweet Pea bribed him, but if they did they haven’t said a word about it. Regardless, you plan to enjoy the night off. Everyone has been stressed in the weeks since the schools merged, and things have become more and more tense on the Southside, so it’s nice to see everyone finally relaxing for once.

You peer around the packed room, squinting to see a flash of bubble-gum pink against all the leather and dark hair, but the room is too dark to see much of anything at all. Huffing, you press up on your toes, looking instead for Sweet Pea’s towering frame, knowing that he’s infinitely easier to find than Toni.

At least hypothetically he should be. Your frown only deepens when you don’t see your mountain of a friend anywhere in the room, a frustrated groan building in your throat. It really shouldn’t be this difficult to spot Sweet Pea. He’s over six feet and is one of the tallest Serpents in the room. He shouldn’t be able to hide like this.

“Boo,” a low voice whispers in your ear, a pair of hands grabbing you by the shoulders. You yelp, about to swing at whoever’s grabbed you but a familiar, rough baritone chuckle reaches your ears first, his laughter vibrating through you both, and you roll your eyes in annoyance. Somehow, he always manages to find you first.

Sweet Pea squeezes your shoulders, big hands running down your arms to your elbows, palms warm against your bare skin. His touch is light and it tickles and if you lean into him it’s only because of the two shots you’ve already taken tonight.

You consider punching him anyway for scaring you, but the smile on his face when you turn around whisks the thought away.

He peers down at you, eyes crinkled at the corners from how wide his grin is, a lightness to his features that you don’t often get to see anymore. He looks absolutely elated, comfortable in his skin, and there’s no trace of the deep-set anger in his eyes that just won’t seem to wash away most days. It’s been awhile since you’ve seen him this open and happy. The last few weeks have been difficult for everyone, but especially for Sweet Pea.

He’s always been protective of the Serpents, of his family, and he’s done everything to put a target on his own back at Riverdale High in order to keep it off everyone else. You aren’t sure if he’s brave or reckless because of it, but you’ve always thought he was a little bit of both.

You think that that smile on his face might be the epitome of joy and chalk it up to the alcohol.

“Asshole,” you call him, rolling your eyes as his hands drop from your arms, “don’t scare me like that!”

His grin only widens at your irritated expression, expression impish, and a smile tugs at your own lips before you can stop it. “Come on.” His reaches for you easily, fingers tangling with yours as he gives you a little tug in the opposite direction you were previously looking. “Toni and Fangs are waiting.”

3.

The third time it really happens, you don’t notice. But Toni Does.

You’re used to Sweet Pea grabbing your hand and pulling you along behind him at this point. It’s just become second nature. Anytime you’re in a crowd, Sweet Pea will lace his fingers through yours, keeping you close to his side so you don’t get swept away. At Riverdale High. At the Whyte Wyrm. Down at the Quarry with the other Serpents milling around you. It’s nothing unusual at this point. It’s just how the two of you are.

So really, you just don’t notice when his fingers slip through yours when you’re at the Drive-In with Toni and Fangs.

The Drive-In is playing some eighties-night marathon that Fangs had begged you all to watch with him, something you were suckered into with his puppy-dog eyes. Toni fell for the eyes too, and either Sweet Pea was bribed or just decided he didn’t want to be alone on a Saturday night. Regardless, somehow you all ended up curled up in the bed of his pickup with a multitude of blankets and pillows for everyone to use.

When he reaches down and hoists you onto the truck with one hand, he doesn’t let go.

And that’s the end of it. Your hands should slip away from each other, but they don’t. And you don’t notice. You end up squeezed between Toni and Sweet Pea with your laced fingers resting on your lap, his thumb sweeping across the back of your hand. You lean into his side a little more than usual, the early March air still chilly, and his grip around you tightens just a fraction.

They stay linked like that until the credits of the first film begin to roll and Fangs gets restless, badgering Sweet Pea until the other by agrees to go on a quick snack run with him. Sweet Pea rolls his eyes and makes a snarky remark about Fangs eating his candy too quickly, and you and Toni both snicker, knowing how Sweet Pea has just as big of a sweet tooth as Fangs.

His hands slips from yours and your fingers go cold.

Toni smirks as soon as the boys disappear from sight, one brow quirked at you expectantly, expression mischievous. “So,” she drawls, playing with a piece of popcorn and trying to appear casual, “what’s going on between you and Sweet Pea?”

Rolling your eyes, you level her with a pointed look, but her smile only widens. “As I’ve told you, there’s nothing going on between me and Sweet Pea.” It’s a conversation you’ve had with her a million times before. No matter how much you deny that there’s anything between you and Sweet Pea, Toni just won’t seem to believe it.

Her smirk widens like she’s won. “Then why exactly were you two holding hands just now?”

Automatically, you go to respond, brows furrowing because you know exactly why Sweet Pea would hold your hand. Then you stop. Because you weren’t in a crowd of people this time. It was just Fangs and Toni and there was no reason for him to be keeping you close like that. There’s no way he could have lost you in a crowd.

You purse your lips, trying not to blush, and Toni snickers. The boys come back before you can say anything else and Sweet Pea settles down beside you once more, a bag of gummy worms in one hand. His side is pressed flush against yours and the heat of his body is something you’re suddenly all too aware of.

The next movie starts to play and Sweet Pea’s hand curls around yours.

4.

After that, you don’t stop noticing it.

Sweet Pea holds your hand more than you initially realized. It’s no longer just at school in between classes when the hallways are packed with students or just at the Wyrm on a crowded Friday night. No, somehow it’s extended to when he walks you home after your shift at the bar and movie nights on Fangs’ couch and under the booth while you’re at Pop’s with friends, all without you even realizing it.

It’s strange, how perfectly his hand fits into yours, how without realizing it you’ve begun to relax into his touch completely, unaware that you were searching for it until his hand was completely enveloping yours.

Toni and Fangs have both noticed it at this point, but neither have said anything since that night at the Drive-In and you aren’t sure quite what to make of that. They keep giving you these sly looks each time they catch you and Sweet Pea holding hands, and each time your face flushes, like you’re getting caught doing something wrong.

It’s gotten to the point where the two of you hold hands more often than not, and at this point you’re almost painfully aware of that fact. Sweet Pea will just grab your hand at times and it’s like you can’t breathe, or his thumb will brush against your thigh as you hold your clasped hands in your lap and it’ll leave a burning trail of heat along your skin, a shiver running down your spine. Every little touch makes you ache for something that you aren’t sure you want to put a name to.

But Sweet Pea doesn’t talk about it and neither do you and Toni and Fangs keep on grinning like they know something you don’t.

You’re inclined to think that maybe they do.

Sweet Pea sighs. “Why are we here so early again?” he complains, glancing down at you, an annoyed expression on his face. Despite his protests, his grip only tightens around your hand as he allows you to tug him through the school towards the auditorium, the musical bound to start in less than twenty minutes. He frowns at a group of parents who send the two of you disapproving looks. “Actually, why are we here at all?” he rephrases, keeping close to your side as the two of you step in line.

“To support Toni and Fangs,” you remind him breezily, trying not to smile. Despite his griping, Sweet Pea is nothing but talk. He can complain all he wants, but you both know he would be here with or without you. Sweet Pea cares about Toni and Fangs way too much to miss out on something so important to them.

He groans low in the back of his throat, way too close you your ear, and you try not to shiver. “I don’t like musicals.”

You roll your eyes. “Oh come on, Sweets.” You tug at his hand, absentmindedly playing with the rings on his fingers, ones you’ve become well-acquainted with since the two of you started doing whatever this is. Please, for me? is almost what you say next, but you swallow it back, not willing to go there. “It’ll be fun,” you say instead.

For a moment he simply stares down at you as you pause just outside of the theater, dark eyes locking with yours as you twist one of the rings around his finger, trying to ignore the way he inhales sharply at the small action.

His shoulders slacken and he shakes his head, grinning as you pull him into the dark auditorium.

5.

Things build and build until they don’t.

Midge Klump dies and Fangs is accused of murder and then Fangs is shot and all of Riverdale goes to hell. It all happens so quickly and yet not fast enough, everything in excruciating detail, yet you’re powerless to stop it. Everything is chaos. People are screaming. A gunshot rings in your ears. You’re lost in the shuffle of bodies swarming the streets.

An unfamiliar ache of fear erupts in your chest when you realize you’re alone. Your heart lurches, throat constricting in panic, and with wild eyes you look around the streets, hoping to catch a glimpse of another Serpent, a familiar face.

A familiar voice shouts your name and you whip around, the panic uncoiling in your chest as you see him. “Sweets,” you breathe back.

His wild gaze meets yours, eyes searching your own for something you’re not quite sure of, his hands hovering over your shoulders, clenching and unclenching like he doesn’t know where to touch you. Finally, he seems to find what he’s looking for. His arms snake around your frame, pulling you tight to his chest.

You grip him back just as tightly, hands fisting in his leather jacket as he buries his face against your hair. “I’ve got you, Baby,” he murmurs, voice almost swallowed by the screaming all around you. “I’ve got you.”

Somehow you end up back at the Wyrm in one of the bathrooms. You’re on the counter with Sweet Pea standing between your spread legs and there’s something electric between the two of you, but you’re shaking and he’s shaking and his fingers slip through yours like it’s natural, and at this point you think it must be. At this point you hold hands more often than you don’t. At this point you’ve realized you don’t want to let go. There’s blood on his hands and they stain yours as his fingers lace through them, anchoring the two of you together, and it’s enough.

You clean the blood off his hands with a wet cloth, fighting to keep your hands steady. You’re safe. He’s safe. But Fangs was shot and half of the Serpents are still missing and it feels like everything in this whole damn town is crumbling around you.

Releasing one of his hands as you wipe the blood clean, his fingers find yours in the dim light of the bathroom, gripping you so tight it almost hurts, but he needs this and you need it too. “Why do you do that?” you ask before you can stop yourself, but you can’t bring yourself to regret it.

His eyes snap from your connected hands to your face, his brows furrowing. “Do what?” he asks, low and deep and rough, more fragile than you’ve ever heard him before.

Silently, you wipe more blood off his hands. He releases you, every so often, allowing you to shift his hands in your grip to wipe the blood from his palm, from under his nails. Neither of you can stay away for long, something about the skin on skin contact making your chest settle.

“Hold my hand,” is what you finally say.

Sweet Pea opens his mouth but doesn’t answer for a long time, just watches as you dab at a split in his knuckles that reopened sometime during the night. His hands are still trembling, but neither of you mention it. There’s a lot you don’t talk about. Finally, he exhales, a quivering little thing, and leans forward to rest his forehead against yours. “I don’t wanna lose you,” he murmurs, fingers tightening around yours.

And somehow that’s enough.

+1.

Things have changed since Riot Night.

It’s been nearly three weeks and but it feels like several lifetimes apart. Fangs is alive. Jughead is alive. But you lost the Wyrm and you lost Sunnyside. And you think you lost a part of yourself that night too, while you and Sweet Pea were in that bathroom. And you know he lost pieces of himself too. Things changed. Maybe you got scared or maybe he did, or maybe it was both of you, but things changed.

You never realized how cold you were without him, how empty your hand feels without his fingers tangled up with yours, his rings cold against your skin. You’ve been reaching for him lately, without even noticing, hand searching for his, only he isn’t there.

He said he was afraid of losing you, but you think maybe you should’ve been the one who was scared. Sweet Pea has always been detached, brave and reckless and too proud to think he needs anyone until he’s already begun to lose them. And you? You’ve always just been too blind to see what’s right there until it’s gone.

But you and the rest of the Serpents build a new home by Sweetwater River, one made up of cheap tents and scavenged materials and a type of raw anger that makes the Serpents strong even though the Southside is gone. Only it doesn’t feel like home with Sweet Pea so close but still so far away.

He’s with Fangs and Jughead, the three of them smiling, big wide grins that make your heart squeeze in your chest. One of them was shot. One of them was beaten. And the third a broken boy barely put back together. You can still feel the blood on your skin and the ghost of his breath on your neck from that night, a whispered word of I’vegotyouI’vegotyouI’vegotyou and your chest aches. Sweet Pea’s eyes meet yours over Fangs’ head and something in his expression changes. There’s fear there, and loss, and something you don’t want to put a name too.

Something in you snaps and comes back together, a tide washing in.

I’vegotyouI’vegotyouI’vegotyou.

Jughead becomes Serpent King. They lost the Southside, but not their spirits, and Sweet Pea slides up beside you, arm pressing flush against yours and leaving a pleasant warmth rushing through you. You lean into him and it’s enough.

That night he hovers over you, breathing your name against your skin, mouth on your neck, your cheek, your chin, anywhere he can reach. Sweet Pea lets out a sound halfway between a gasp and a laugh against your throat, something soft and shaky—nervous—and you can’t help it when you keen, fingers quivering against his shoulders as his breath fans over your neck, warm against your skin. His hand curls around your bare hip and squeezes.

He doesn’t say it and neither do you, but your hand finds his for the first time in weeks, fingers knotting with his as he presses his weight against you, bare chest meeting yours. He whispers your name again, and it sends a chill through you, enough to make you shiver, but he only pulls you closer, until there’s no space left between you. His thumb bushes against you hip as you rocks against him, holding you steady, and his hand squeezes around yours.

Your bones hum.

You whisper his name back to him and he twitches above you, shuddering and groaning low in his throat before sighing as his forehead drops onto your shoulder. His one arm slips around your back as he pulls you into a soft embrace, breathing heavily. He hovers over you, letting you wrap herself around him, curling into his chest and burying yourself inside.

[shark-from-the-park]

FIC: The Fitzier of It, Episode Two

A Fitzier The Thick of It AU in several parts.  You can find Episode One here .

In this installment, spin doctor James continues to try to get noticed hired by Minister Francis and those around him offer helpful advice…

Warnings for very bad language throughout, NSFW discussions, endlessly snacking LeVesconte and John Franklin.

@casperthefriendlylittlefan @litttlesilkworm @boisinberryjamarama @thegreenmeridian  @coffeesugarcream @cinemaocd @the-jewish-marxist @hereliesnils @nashilena @itisa-profoundbond-sarandom @idlesuperstar @what-a-terrorific-mess @pipuhattar @kahootqueen69 @jaredharrisankles @shit-in-silk-stocking @bobbole @twerkinshield @fellowshipofthegay @aconfusedwriter @uncannybrightside

Episode 2

“Alas, I find myself out of touch, gentlemen.”  Sir John Franklin was saying over steepled hands.  “The electorate wants something new.  Someone younger and more dynamic.  Even… someone more radical, perhaps.  I am no longer the man for the hour.”

This little speech would have had more impact had not James and Dundy been hearing various iterations of it for the past few weeks.  

“James, I want you to go to Francis.”

“Sir John, I’ve tried!  I went over there last week, Sir…”

“Now, James.  I know that you and Francis haven’t always seen eye to eye.  In fact, you two have been butting heads for as long as I can remember…”

“Sir John, I did try…”

“Now James!  The political landscape is changing.  This enmity between the two of you has gone on for long enough.  It’s high time that you and Francis, well… kissed and made up, so to speak.”

Dundy snorted violently and James shot him a death glare, even as he was horrified to feel himself blushing.  

Undeterred, Sir John spoke on.  “Now I know that Francis is a difficult, combative sort of man, James, but no doubt his heart is in the right place.  If you’ll only give him a chance.  You’ll need each other, when the news of my retirement is made public.  No doubt he will want to rule over you with a firm hand, James.  And we all of us know that you’re not used to that.  But you’ll just have to swallow down your pride and submit to him -”  Dundy appeared to be choking.  James hoped he’d be quick about it.  “- You’re both good sorts.  He’ll learn to see your worth in time.”

James had not gotten this far in life without learning to accept defeat, especially when defeat entailed Sir John stopping talking.  

He cleared his throat and studiously ignored Dundy’s shaking shoulders.  

“You’re right, of course, Sir John.  I’ll go and see Francis again.  I’ll see if I can get him on his own and make amends.”

Sir John smiled magnanimously.  “There now.  I knew you’d see sense.  Frankly, I’ll be glad when you and Francis can finally put your quarrels to bed.”

*****

Lurking in elevators was not James’ favourite part of the job, but being the head of communications for her majesty’s opposition had taught him the value in it.  

And he was very, very good at it.  

There was many a junior minister who would automatically piss their pants at James’ looming, immaculately tailored visage ambushing them from the lift’s blind spot.  

This was all to the good – James’ bread and butter.  

But Francis Crozier, of course, was a different matter entirely.  If he had ever in all his years been cowed by an enforcer or a party whip, James had never heard tell of it.  

All the same, when the man himself finally came striding down the corridor towards him, all rumpled grey suit, no tie, and comfortably-soled Clarks boots favoured by scruffy dads the world over, James immediately wanted to slap him.  

The Irishman’s eye-roll upon spotting James was impeccable – honed over years of practice to ooze just the right amount of world-weary disdain.  

“Well done, James. You appear to have gotten the drop on me.”  He drawled, one thick finger stabbing at the button for the ground floor.  

“Well, I wanted to have a word without your hirsute bodyguards present.”  James could actually feel his mouth pulling into the prim little grimace he reserved for their altercations.  “Francis, have you considered what you’re doing?  You are squandering your shot at the top job by refusing the assistance of the one man who can actually help to get you there.”

“You know James, I’ve often wondered how the corridors of power functioned at all before you were born.  Enlighten me on that, why don’t you?”

“For God’s sake, Francis. If you could just stop putting all of your energy into being offended all the time, we might actually be able to have a productive conversation, for once.”  James hadn’t meant that to come out sounding quite as petulant as it had.  

Francis turned the full force of his curled lip and razor sharp eyes onto him.  

James involuntarily took a deep, preparatory breath.

“I know what you want, James Fitzjames.  Your sugar daddy is finally giving up the goat.  You’ve racked the entirety of your public school brains, casting about for the next sucker you can sink your hooks into.  All so you can cling onto your power and influence like a limpet and remain a self-important, uppity, egotistical prick a little longer. Finding, due to the deplorable state of political discourse in this country, that the only candidate with any grass-roots support is this backwards Irish turd, you’ve decided to polish me up.  Is that the long and the short of it?  Well, this turd doesn’t want to be polished.”

The lift doors dinged open on the ground floor even as James’ mouth hung open.  

“I never…”  He spluttered (and he never, ever spluttered). “Francis…  I don’t…”

“Good conversation James, we should do this more often.”  Francis sardonically straightened his jacket lapels before striding from the lift.  

James watched him go, blinking as the lift doors began to shut again.  

*****

“I’ve never called him a turd.”  James muttered over a late lunch.  

“I can believe that.  You’d never say anything that vulgar.”  Agreed Dundy, shovelling forkfuls of lasagne into his mouth.  

“I might have… I mean, I did…  call him ‘backwards’ a few times, I suppose.  I mean, no more than, probably, seven or eight times.  I used to throw around that word a lot, back in the early days with Sir John.  I was a different man back then.”

Dundy nodded in agreement.  “You were an insufferable prick back then.  You were young, though.  Now you’re an older, more sufferable sort of prick.”

“Oh fuck off Dundy.  Don’t even know why I’m talking to you about this.”

“Because you can’t bear solitary introspection?”

“I mean, who else is he going to get to spin for him?  Hickey?  Francis wouldn’t touch that immoral piece of shit with a barge pole.  I’m the best, most senior, most experienced communications officer this party has. Why wouldn’t he want to work with me?  I’m a safe pair of hands! Is he really going to cast me off just because of a few offhand jokes I may have made years ago?”

Dundy chewed thoughtfully while he let James finish.  “You do realise, I suppose, that the reason this is all so personal for you…” He paused to take a few gulps from his bottle of Peroni. “Is because you’re obsessed with him?”

James couldn’t quite make his normally agile mouth form words.  

“I used to find it pretty funny that you didn’t clock it…” Dundy continued. “…but it’s starting to wear a bit thin now.  Do you know, years ago, when we first started working with Sir John, you used to literally go out of your way to interact with Francis.  And then when it became obvious that he didn’t think very much of you, you got even worse.  Taunting him down corridors just so he’d take a verbal swipe at you and you could tell me all about it at lunch the next day.  What he said to you, what you said back, what exact colour his face turned…  You’d get so excited talking about how awful and uncouth and boring he was.  Do you know, Francis Crozier must legitimately be your favourite topic of conversation.  Usually insulting him, I grant you, or laughing about how much you’ve riled him up.  It’s getting a bit embarrassing at this point, Fitz.  So here I am, doing my friendly duty, for once.  Maybe next time you approach Francis about his leadership bid, you should just drop to your knees and suck him off.  Or maybe you could offer yourself to him arse first.  Break the ice and get it out of your system.  Two birds, one stone, that sort of thing.”

James’ fork had clattered onto his plate at some point. He couldn’t seem to order his thoughts.  

“Dundy… you are… you’re… miles off with this whole thing, you know… Ha. Francis?  Ha.  It’s utterly ridiculous.  I mean… You’re completely missing the point.  He’s not even – I mean… He’s… Francis.  He’s…  This is about the good of the party.  And about my career.  And about your career.  And OK, it’s about his career too.  And about the good of the party.  For fucks sake…”

Dundy rolled his eyes and gave James a look which he must have perfected on his twin toddlers.  

“Hey Fitz, remember when you told me about your gap year and how you fucked that weird guy in the toilets at Heathrow?  And then mid flight you realised you still had the condom stuck up your arse and you had to spend twenty minutes in the plane loo trying to fish it out, all while a stewardess was knocking on the door asking if you were alright?  All so they wouldn’t think you were smuggling drugs when you got to Bangkok?”

James blinked at the hard turn in conversation, but just about managed to nod.

“Do you remember when I told you the one about how I accidentally came all over Jane Garibaldi’s face that time and got her right in the eye and she made me take her to the walk-in centre and tell the nurse what had happened?”

James nodded dumbly.

“You laughed your head off through both those tales, Fitz.  And a hundred other embarrassing stories.  You’ve got no shame.  Never saw you blush once.  But you’re blushing now, alright.”

James spluttered. “That’s because you’re talking about Francis Crozier!”

“Exactly.” Concluded Dundy sagely, swigging down the rest of his beer.  

*****

“D’you reckon it’s time we brought Fitzjames on board yet?”  Enquired Ed Little, seemingly out of the blue.  

“Nah.” Francis answered at once.  “He pissed me off the other day in the lift. Entitled public school wanker.  Let him stew a while longer.”

Blanky looked even more thoughtful than usual.  “Let the lad come down another peg or five, maybe learn a bit of humility.  Then and only then, Edward, will we bring him to our loving bosoms and let him sup the milk of socialism.”

Francis grunted in amused agreement.

“You know,” Mused Ed after a moment, with a muted little smile.  “I reckon that maybe there’s only one of us whose loving bosom Fitzjames is interested in…”

Francis snorted in derision and rolled his eyes.

Blanky howled.

*****

Episode Three here...

[irwinkitten]

knockout round | a.i

(gif credit to @asht0ns-world )

pairing: reader x boxer!ashton notes: so the who do you love video lowkey inspired this. even tho the majority of the video is lowkey pointless, the looks that ashton was giving the camera gave me such a boxer!ash vibe and lets be real i’m a hoe for possessive and jealous ash. thank u to @asht0ns-world @singledadharrington, @gorgeouslygrace, @sugarcoated-pain and @5sosnsfw for letting me throw out my ideas of this and killing you all with the potential plot ideas. also thank u christa for being the best cheerleader, i love u angel. and massive thank u to lena for finding the gif bc my laptop has issues warnings: violence, smut word count: 3.1k!! 

---

Boxing had always been apart of Ashton’s life. He’d never really known a part of his life without it.

As a child, his temperament was always short. Teachers called him the problem child and people never wanted to be his friend. But he still managed to find three friends and forge a tight bond with them that people often called them brothers without even realising there was no familial resemblance to the quartet.

When his mother had enrolled him into boxing classes, after expressing an interest in the programs that he watched with his parents, they soon realised that with the lessons that he went to, his anger simmered down and his fuse seemed to get longer with each passing year.

By the time that Ashton had reached his late teens, he was the lightweight champion of the area. As he continued to grow, put on the muscle, and move up in the divisions, he was making a name for himself. He was one that wasn’t to be messed with.

As his name gained traction with the media, so did stories of his childhood, his anger. And he was a lot more honest about his childhood than most boxers.

“I had a good environment. But I have anger issues and I know that I have them. It’s taken years of hard work to get to where I am today, but I know that the driving force has always been my anger. It’s both a blessing and a curse.”

His competitors could never find his achilles heel. His love life was never a subject that he talked or posted about, and despite a few competitors going below the belt and making remarks about his mother that would’ve angered any man, he’d held his cool and then thoroughly beaten them the next day.

When she came into his life, it was steady. She’d just come from a bad relationship, her heart in tatters and the two of them shopping late night. He’d been running for last minute prep and she’d decided to drown her sorrows in alcohol and ice cream. She knew his name, knew his title that he held in the boxing world.

But she didn’t care. All she cared about was he’d picked up the last tub of her favourite ice cream and just at her absolutely defeated look, it prompted him to offer her a deal.

“Let me at least take you out somewhere for the day where we can be kids again. I’ve got some days off coming up anyway.”

His words had prompted the smallest of smiles as she accepted his offer as he handed her the ice cream and she gave him her number, under the stipulation that he wouldn’t be creepy about it.

And despite giving her a mock offended look, he understood her wariness of giving her number to someone who was essentially a complete stranger.

From then on, she became a rock in his life who seemed to have his back regardless. His three friends from childhood who’d all become apart of his management team as he gained status with his boxing, noticed how he was always in better moods, he stuck to the plans before fights and before long the friendship blossomed into a relationship that he was protective of.

But of course, whilst in the media spotlight, he knew that keeping such a relationship quiet was always going to be impossible.

But the day that it’d been announced that he was against her ex, the very one who left her a broken woman in the ice cream aisle, he knew that this fight was going to be important, whether she acknowledged it or not, this was payback for hurting the beautiful woman he was resolutely in love with.

He’d never been so revved for a match before.

Ashton knew that she was worried, that her bottom lip would be shredded beyond belief from her teeth. But he wasn’t.

Dean Martin has gone the wrong way to rile him up, to use his girl as verbal bait. And hearing the derogatory terms, Ashton wasn’t too sure if he was grateful that Calum’s hand on his bicep reminded him where he was, or if he was still annoyed over it.

He was certainly annoyed that the hand turned into a restraining arm when Martin had made a comment of bedding his girl, with or without her permission. He’d seen red and as rage flooded his body, his muscles locked up, ready to pound the fucker down.

Calum had hastily pulled Ashton away from his opponent, opting to keep the distance between them so that Ashton wouldn’t be tempted to knock Martin out before the match.

The headlines went wild with those shots and the look of undiluted rage on Ashton’s features. People were very quickly realising that even he has his limits and Dean Martin had managed to break those limits clean.

Being with her before the match, his hands were firmly around her waist as she stood between his legs. Despite his trainer telling him no distractions, she was never a distraction. Only an anchor. And right now he needed to ground himself because the last thing he wanted to do was lose this fight to someone like Dean Martin.

“Baby, you’ve got this fight in the bag.” She hummed softly, her lips ghosting across his cheek. Ashton sighed.

“I hate the fact that it’s your ex I’m fighting.” He finally admitted and she sighed, her fingers running through his hair. His eyes fell shut of their own accord, her touch soothing the rage that was bubbling under the surface. Martin’s comments still rang in his ears.

“He wasn’t a good man. You’re the better man, better partner.” The words were soft, almost caressing his soul and he felt reassured.

“Only because of you, sweet girl. I’m better because of you.” Her lips curved up into a wry grin as she leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead.

“I’m proud of you Ash. You’ve got this fight in the bag, and if that boy tries what he did for the weigh in, I won’t be angry or upset. Lord knows you’ve told me time and again that anyone disrespecting me within earshot of you will earn them either a verbal lashing or a physical one depending on their words.” Her tone was teasing, reminding him that she wouldn’t be angry with him.

It’d been an issue at first, his verbal and physical responses to people being either disrespectful or derogatory about his girl. But only when he told her his reasons, how he was raised to respect a woman, regardless of any kinds of relationship, she understood that it was something that he could tone down but not necessarily control.

And they compromised on it. He tried to keep it to verbal smackdowns, and only if someone threw the first punch, did he defend himself. His reputation grew within months and soon when they’d been together for two years, he was at the top of his career.

“Irwin, ten minutes. Your girl needs to go.” Calum had re-entered the locker room, giving her a brief smile. “Seats for you are close to ringside. He’s on the blue corner.” She nodded, pressing another gentle kiss to his forehead before making her way, ruffling Calum’s hair as she did.

Ashton laughed at the disgruntled look on Calum’s face and he could feel his body begin to gear as he did the last minute stretches.

“Martin’s going to hit hard and fast. You need to be swift. Don’t use everything you have until he starts to wear down.” Ashton nodded, focusing on the aspect of the fight, rather than who he was fighting. He couldn’t let his anger cloud his judgement or moves, not so early on into the match.

Calum was soon hustling him to the entrance corner, both of them knocking fists together before he rushed ahead to prep his area. As the music began playing, he pulled the silk robe on, the hood falling just over his eyes as he made his way out, loud screams causing a smirk to slip on his features as he began the walk through, Luke and Michael following behind at this point and keeping people on the floor seats from mobbing him.

Martin was stood scowling, doing a last minute stretch as his gloves were being put on. Once Ashton was in the ring, Calum was there, pulling the robe off and getting the gloves onto his wrapped up hands.

“Remember, you might be fucking angry with him, but I swear to god Irwin, if you let this fucker beat you, I’ll kick your ass myself.” This caused Ashton to crack a smile before Calum put the mouth guard in and Ashton went and met the ref in the middle. He and Martin touched gloves before the bell went and the first swing came from Martin, aiming for the jaw, causing Ashton to bend backwards to avoid getting clocked.

The noise was deafening and Ashton knew his focus was slipping as Martin landed in some good punches. It was getting close and he could feel himself dropping as he lost the round, his lip bloody and a cut on his cheek, half staggering back to Calum who seemed to be trying his best not to berate him.

But then she was there beside Calum, her hands on his cheeks once he’d been checked over.

“Do me proud, Ashton Fletcher. I know you can beat him.” And his second wind came as the next round got ready.

“Gonna let your bitch lean over for me later when I win? It’s all she ever really was good for.” The comment was crass, but the fuse was lit.

“Irwin, don’t let anger cloud your judgement here.” Calum snapped harshly. The last thing they needed was his focus to be lost, but if anything, his focus was sharpening. And he could feel the anger bubble under his skin.

“C’mon Irwin. Make sure to share the spoils. I mean, she’s second hand goods, surely you’re not still with her?” Ashton’s eyes caught hers and he could see she’d heard his calls. His fuse seemingly got shorter as he gave her a reassuring smile, taking the offered water and taking a few seconds to calm his racing heart.

“How about this, I share her with some buddies and drop her back to you. She might be in reasonable condition if she doesn’t fight like she used to. Always feisty until I got her to see sense, if you catch my drift.” The smirk on Martin’s lips as the words left his mouth snapped something inside of Ashton and the anger that had been bubbling, flooded.

And he was furious.

The bell went and Ashton immediately had Martin on his back foot, unable to even get close for a hit as Ashton’s fists repeatedly went for him, reminding himself to not murder his opponent.

It didn’t take long before there became a real look of fear in Martin’s eyes and Ashton felt no ounce of sympathy as he landed a knockout and the crowd roared in approval. It didn’t take long before the last round was won and his arm was being raised, a bruised rib protesting as he was handed the belt and his lips curved into the widest smirk.

Martin was lucky to get away with the injuries that he got. Two visible black eyes, a few cuts and Ashton was almost certain he managed to at least fracture a rib with the force of his hit at one point. Part of him wished that he broke something clean but he’d take what he could get in this fight. Knowing that he’d gotten what he deserved, settled the anger to a simmer, the adrenaline still flooding his body.

As he exited the ring, he couldn’t stop himself from pulling his girl into his side, his lips meeting hers in a soft, sweet kiss, ignoring the disappointed noises. Once he pulled away, his gaze moved to Martin, staring at him out, his grip only getting marginally tighter until he left the opposite side.

Ashton retreated back to his side, his arms still firmly around her as the medic double checked the rib to make sure it was only bruised and not broken, before clearing him to go and get cleaned up.

She didn’t protest as he pulled her with, her back pressed against the cold tiles as his lips met her neck, the hot water beating down on his back.

“All mine to care for, to love on.” He murmured against her skin, lips and teeth gently pulling at the skin. Her fingers lifted up to run through his hair, gripping the damp strands gently.

“All yours.” She whispered in return, a sharp gasp escaping as his lips had moved to her breasts, his teeth pulling on one nipple carefully as his hand worked the other. She was whining softly, his name escaping occasionally.

His lips moved from her breasts, trailing down as he got to his knees, a whine escaping her lips.

“Shouldn’t it be me rewarding you, handsome?” He shook his head at her words, moving her fingers back to his hair.

“All about you tonight, doll.” She was about to argue, but his tongue licked a stripe up her folds, a startled noise escaping her instead as she gripped his hair, his lips attaching to her clit. He worked two fingers inside of her as he nipped and sucked on her clit, the noises were somewhat beautiful sounds to his ears as she got closer to her orgasm.

Her fingers got tighter around his hair as she called out his name, his lips immediately beginning a journey back up her body slowly sliding his fingers out as he stood up, lifting his fingers to her lips, tapping them gently.

They parted under his touch and her tongue swirled around his digits, a groan escaping his lips as she cleaned them. He wasted no time as he pulled them free, his lips meeting hers as he lined up against her entrance.

“You’re far too good to me, princess.” He groaned as he slid in, her legs lifting off the ground to wrap around his waist. His hands immediately moved to cup her ass as his hips began to move against hers, moans escaping the both of them.

He knew that he wasn’t going to last too long, not with the protesting rib, so one hand slid from her ass, moving to her clit as he picked up his pace. Her words were half begging, incoherent as he brought her closer and closer to the edge.

As she came, her eyes falling shut, his head dropped to her shoulder as he reached his own orgasm, her name tumbling from his lips like a prayer, her fingers still working through his hair, their breathing heavy as he pressed gentle kisses on the marks he’d left on her skin.

“I love it when you mark me like that. I know I’m always yours, but seeing them, just sets my insides on fire.” She murmured as he pulled out from her, finally allowing her under the stream of hot water. She kept her hair from the stream of the water as she allowed it to hit her skin.

“Just as I’m yours, sweet girl. I’m sorry if I hurt you though.” His fingers ghosted across the red marks left by his fingers, and she shook her head at him.

“You of all people know that I love seeing them.” She murmured as she reached over, taking the shampoo and working it into his hair. His eyes fell shut at her ministrations and didn’t argue with her. She always told him she loved seeing the marks, but sometimes it didn’t stop the guilt flooding him.

He worked the shower gel along her body as she conditioned his hair. They worked in silence until she’d gotten the suds of the shower gel off his body. His hands switched the water off as her lips slowly moved across from his shoulder, along his collarbone before finding the junction of his neck and shoulder, trailing her lips along the column of his throat.

A soft noise escaped his lips as she reached his jaw, before her lips reached his once more, her hands taking a hold of his head, her palms firmly planted against his cheeks. He knew better than to look away from her when she was this determined.

“I love you, Ashton Irwin, and that won’t ever change. We have words for a reason, and you know I use them. Please don’t beat yourself up, sweetheart.” His lips met hers briefly before a sigh escaped.

“Sorry angel.”

“Your forgiven. Now, we need to get ready and head back home. I know that the boys will want to at least spend a quiet night in celebrating with you.” Her voice held amusement, knowing that despite her want for the two of them to continue their own celebrations, the other three would deliberately ruin that.

Ashton laughed.

“They’re too frightened to cross you, y’know. If you said that you were taking me home, they wouldn’t argue.” He commented as the two stepped from the shower and dried off. She lifted her shoulders into a shrug as she got re-dressed.

“I know, but I don't want them bitching at me, because I want days with you, not just a few hours. So they get the few hours and then I get days. And they know better than to show up unannounced after a match.” The grin that she wore made him laugh as he got dressed.

Once they were ready, his hand slid into hers, fingers interlacing as they headed out back to the waiting cars to get the two of them home. Michael was the first to throw his arm across Ashton’s shoulders as they trio caught up with the two.

“So, we’re drinking at yours then?” She raised an eyebrow pointedly at Ashton, Michael’s words simply proving her point. He rolled his eyes before grinning.

“Of course. M’lookin’ forward to the headlines that are gonna come out from this fight.” Calum laughed as he threw his own arm around her shoulders.

“They’re gonna point out how no one can seemingly knock you down. You’re like a rock.” Luke teased and Ashton rolled his eye as Michael moved his arm from his friends shoulders.

Once they reached his place, the other three didn’t protest as she helped check him over before all but ordering him to put his feet up. The others were about to make a comment, but one look stopped the thoughts dead in their tracks and she received sheepish smiles in return as she finally settled into his good side.

It was worth it all in her eyes.

---

tag list: @cals-babylons , @glitterprincelu , @calumspeachy , @wrappedaroundcal , @cosmocalum , @monsteramongmikey , @talkfastfletcher , @hereforlukescruff , @astroashtonio , @catchinqcalum , @5saucewho , @dontstopisagoodsongchangemymind , @therainydays4 , @asht0ns-world , @silverchainbee , @hidd3nfangirl , @doodleasouarus , @empathycth , @mylovehes , @songforhema , @kinglyhood , @youngblood199456 , @makecoffeenotwars , @sunny-sos , @negative-love , @softboycal , @kinglycalum , @you-of-ghost , @meetyoutheremgc , @lmao5sosimagines , @lietoash , @aw-hawkeye , @drummerboy794 , @itjustkindahappenedreally, @mycollectionofnuts, @abitloudforanaccousticset, @boytoynamedcalum , @teampreator , @dukehoods , @dweebluke , @calumculture , @lashtoncurls , @wildhearthood , @gigglyirwin , @blue-skies-are-alright , @hearts-to-the-sky , @tiddlerrr , @all-i-want-is2b-loved-by-you , @zooniah , @cakeassx-blog , @paqueretteash , @rotten-kandy , @vipclifford , @musiclover1263 , @rosecoloredash , @jpgluke , @cathartichaoss , @5secondssofssummer , @cozyfivesos , @balsamichood , @cliffordstxngue , @lukesbellas , @myloverboyash , @cxddlyash  , @gabiatthedisco , @rosesfromcth , @gorgeouslygrace , @calumsssparkle , @valentinelrh , @meetashthere , @softforcal , @cakesunflower , @hotmessmichael , @fangirlforever0704 , @caswinchester2000 , @long-termplanwithshort-termfixes , @josierosie , @ashtoniwir , @raabiac , @burncrashbromance , @killerlukesqueen , @angelbabylu , 

[wegotjiminsjams]

A Christmas Miracle

Oneshot

Yoongi X Reader

Word Count: 4850

Genre: fluff, enemies to lovers, Slow burn (kind of)

A/N: I wanted to post this last christmas but it wasn’t complete so I’m just posting it now. Lol. XD 

The city indeed looked breathtaking, covered in snow and beautiful lights decorating the streets. People walking around were dressed warmly along with their Santa hats. Naturally, as it was the day before Christmas, everyone around seemed to be in a holiday mood with happy smiles and warm gestures but alas, you couldn’t join in with the festive spirit because you had work. Work on Christmas Eve! Talk about bad luck. You sigh and look away from the window, enough with the longing stares, the sooner you finish your work, the sooner you can leave. Your flight back home was at 5 pm, another four hours left. At Least you’ll get to spend Christmas day with your family.

You look around your office and there’s absolutely no one there except for the security. It’s only fair since it is Christmas and everyone is spending time with their families, everyone except you. But to be completely honest this was all on you, you were always a perfectionist. 

This month you had taken on an extremely important project, while everything was done smoothly, the clients were very impressed and you had managed to gain a great profit for the company, however you hadn’t backed up the reports and accidentally dropped the pen drive with the only copy of the reports in coffee. They were lost for good. Your boss Hoseok had told you not to worry about it, that it wasn’t a big deal. They were the extra reports which could be filed in later on. He had urged you to take an early Christmas break and get back to it later. But you wouldn’t be you, if you weren’t a perfectionist. You insisted that it wouldn’t take much time and you would finish it before the vacation. 

Now thinking back on it, you curse yourself and wish you had just taken the Goddamn opportunity when you had it. Sighing once again you get back to your work, trying to finish it as soon as possible, when someone behind you clears their throat. Your heart nearly jumps out, as you turn to see who it is. As far as you knew the office was completely empty except for the security at the front and you hadn’t heard anyone enter either so naturally you were shocked to see the one person you absolutely did not want to.

“Did I scare you sweetheart?” spoke the annoying voice of Min Yoongi. He had his signature smirk on his face that told you, it was his exact intention to scare you. 

Hearing that annoying nickname immediately put a scowl on your face, “What are you doing here Min?” you asked. 

Min Yoongi was a colleague, a rather annoying one you might add and your partner in the very project you were working on right now. He was partially to blame for you to be working like this last minute. You see, Yoongi and you had this ongoing rivalry and always tried to best each other. You both always found ways to undermine the other. So even though your boss was lenient and allowed you to finish the reports after the holidays, you did not want Min Yoongi to be able to use this against you in the future, saying things like “we didn’t make a larger profit because of the late report filing” or “If I was in charge this wouldn’t have happened.” 

Logically speaking these reports really did not matter much, but you wouldn’t put it past Min Yoongi to use even the tiniest thing against you. The man was infuriating. And this was only one thing among the many other things that he did just to annoy you. If it wasn’t his constant showing off at how good and competent he is, then it was his constant jokes and attempts to flirt with you, just to get you all worked up and embarrassed because he loved getting you riled up. You were convinced that his only goal in life was to make you miserable. To add on to your misfortune, everyone else in the office absolutely loved the pest. Especially all the ladies, who ogle at him like hormone raged school girls, as if Min Yoongi needs anymore of an ego boost. 

Fine, maybe the man was good at his job and kind of handsome, you’ll reluctantly agree to that. But with that personality and such a big ego how could anyone stand him was just beyond you. 

“If you remember correctly, we were both in charge of this project sweetheart” he replies to your question, “So I’m just here to do my part, I don’t want anyone taking credit for the whole project later on you see.” 

Again with the stupid nickname. Already getting riled up with his mere presence you huff and respond to him, “First of all asshole, stop calling me sweetheart and second, it was my mistake that the reports weren’t submitted so I will take care of it. No one is discrediting anyone here so you can go back and annoy your family instead of me.” 

He gave you an amused look, “If you think I’m just going to abandon you and let you take the complete load, you’ve mistaken y/n.” he says seriously. “We both worked on this project and came up with the report. Now who’s ever mistake it was, it’s still unfair that only you have to do it all over again.” 

For a moment you are completely dumbfounded. Is Min Yoongi really being a decent human being right now? You are completely baffled by his behaviour and just stare at him astonished. 

When you don’t reply he just shrugs, “Besides, with me here you’ll be done in no time, cause I’m really excellent at anything I do.” he says, voice oozing with smugness. 

Aaha! There he is, the extremely cocky, big headed Min Yoongi that you know. Never leaves an opportunity to show off. 

Scoffing, you instruct him “Fine you can start with the marketing strategy, I haven’t gotten to that part yet.” And turn away from him to focus on your work. 

The two of you work in peaceful silence for a while. Well as peaceful as it can get with Min Yoongi around, constantly tapping his foot and clicking his pen. The only other sounds coming from pages turning and the typing sounds of your computers until Yoongi breaks the silence to ask you a question. 

“Hey, how come you didn’t go to visit your family for Christmas? Don’t you go every year?” 

You’re a little perplexed that he knew you went every year. Does Min Yoongi really pay attention to people besides himself? 

“Well, I am going, my flight is in three and a half hours, I just delayed my trip a little to complete the work” you say nonchalantly. 

“Really Y/n???” he asks shocked, “You really gave up spending time with your family for work? What is wrong with you! Actually wait, no, you wouldn’t be y/n if not a stubborn perfectionist.” he says with a sly smile 

“Oh shut up!” you huff, “Stop acting like you know me.” 

“Oh but I do sweetheart.” There’s that smug smile on his face again.

Seeing no point in arguing with him further, you just give him the classic eye roll. Something that you find yourself doing often only when he is around. 

“Well, we already know that I’m a workaholic loser, but what about you? Why didn’t you go home for Christmas?” you ask him. 

His cheeks get a slight red tinge at your question. “Aah, I actually had a prior commitment, so I too, delayed my trip.” he says this in a way of trying to sound nonchalant. 

“Prior commitment, On Christmas?” you ask confused. “What is it? Or should I ask who is it?” you tease laughingly. 

His eyes widen and his cheeks are coloured with a blush once again. This is the second time Yoongi has gone all shy today and it’s because of this “prior commitment.” Could it really be that Yoongi has girlfriend? If you think about it, in the past three and a half years of working here you actually don’t remember him mentioning a girlfriend or significant other. And he wouldn’t be constantly flirting and annoying you if he was dating right? But maybe things have changed for him recently. However, you don’t know why but the thought that Yoongi could be dating someone puts a sour taste in your mouth. I mean it’s definitely because you feel bad for the poor soul that’s stuck with him, right?

“What? No no, it’s nothing like that y/n trust me!” he says a bit too panicky. 

“Okaaay, calm down Yoongi” you say “I was only teasing. Then if not a girlfriend, what was so important that couldn’t wait till the end of the holidays?” you ask curiously. 

“Only teasing?” he asks smugly, “Sounds to me like you were jealous, sweetheart.” he says not answering your question once again. 

You roll your eyes once again, “Ugh, You wish.”

“By the way, there’s only a few hours left for your flight, come on we have only a  little work left and then you won’t have to rush to the airport.” he says trying to change the topic. 

You don’t know why but Yoongi is being really weird about this whole situation. You want to pry and find out what’s got him like this, but seeing his reaction and unwillingness to answer, you decide to let it go for now.  

Yoongi and you get back to working in silence for a while, you both are almost done with the report and are proofreading the final copy with utter concentration when the sound of your phone ringing breaks your focus. The screen displays your mom calling, she must be just checking on you to see if you’ve left for the airport. You turn to yoongi and give him a look to say ‘excuse me’ and pick up the call. 

“Yes mom, I’m almost done with work and will leave for the airport soon” you say before she can begin worrying. 

“Y/n dear…that’s not why I’m calling.” your mom says tentatively. “Haven’t you seen the news sweetheart?” 

“The news? Huh? Mom what are you talking about?” you ask confused. 

“Y/n there is a huge snow storm all across the cities, all flights have been cancelled” she informs you gravely. 

A snow storm? No, it can’t be. You move over to your office desktop to check the news online. Yoongi watches you curiously and looks over your shoulder to see what you’re looking at. And it’s true, there is a huge snow storm that is affecting a lot of cities and as a result transportation like trains, flights and busses have been cancelled. Immediately a sense of dread takes over you, if you hadn’t been so stubborn to finish the work you could have already been with your family and avoided this whole mess. Now you will have to spend Christmas all alone. 

“Hello? Y/n are you there?” your mom’s voice through the phones pulls you out of your reverie. 

“Uh…ye..yes mom, I’m here.” you say trying not to choke up. Christmas is the only time you actually get to spend with your family, and because of your stupid stubborness you’re going to miss out. 

“Aww, honey I’m so sorry, Your dad and I feel really bad that you won’t be here with us, but please don’t cry alright. We’ll come visit you for New Year’s.” she says trying to cheer you up.

All you manage to say is a small “okay.”

“Y/n, you’re going to be okay right?” your mom asks worried. 

Not wanting to worry her any more you tell her you’ll be fine and that it’s not a big deal and end the call. You take a deep sigh and turn to your left where Yoongi is watching you intently. 

“Talk about bad luck, am I right?” you say trying to lighten the mood. 

He clears his throat and looks away “Uh, yeah. Well anyway I finished the remaining proofreading, so we’re officially done y/n.” He says. 

“What’s the point anyway, I’m still stuck here.” you huff. 

He only shrugs in response. And for a second you wonder if something is wrong with him. Because the Min Yoongi you know wouldn’t waste a single opportunity to mock you. He would totally call you out for being stubborn and putting yourself in this situation but instead there he is sitting silently and looking almost sad? 

And that’s when it hits you. He’s in the same situation as you. He can’t visit his family on Christmas either. You don’t know why but knowing he’s in the same boat makes you feel slightly better. Misery loves company I guess. No matter how annoying the company can be sometimes.

“So what are you going to do now? You know since you can’t leavetown?” he asks awkwardly. 

You let out a deep sigh, “Probably just going to heat up leftover pizza and watch reruns of The office.” you answer glumly. “What about you? Got any special plans?” 

He just shrugs, “Nope. Pretty much the same as you.” he announces.

You just nod solemnly. 

“Well..” he says packing up his things, “We should probably head out now.”

“Uh huh” you say and you move to gather up your belongings. 

Once the two of you are ready to leave, Yoongi turns towards you with a little nervous smile on his face, “Hey since we both can’t spend spend Christmas with our family, do you want to maybe spend it together instead?” 

You just stare at him, a little confused if you heard him right. Do you really want to spend Christmas with Min Yoongi? The guy who annoys you to the ends of the earth. Well now that you think about it, he hasn’t been all that annoying today. Maybe it won’t be so bad. After all it’s Christmas, do you really want to stay at home alone and wallow in self pity?

When you don’t answer him immediately he continues, “I know I’m probably the last person you want to spend Christmas with, but I was just thinking since we’re both probably going to be alone it will be nice to you know…” he trails off. 

“Yeah I’d like that” you say in a soft voice. 

“What? Really?” he can’t keep the surprise out of his voice, he is genuinely shocked that you agreed. Then he smiles softly and says “Alright then, shall we head to my place? It’s closer, only a few blocks away.” 

You just nod, not knowing what else to say. Suddenly you feel very awkward. What if it’s not a good idea to go with him? Yoongi and you have never really hung out together outside of work, so to suddenly spend Christmas together does seem a bit weird. Nevertheless you already agreed to it, so you just silently follow him out, hoping this doesn’t turn out to be a disaster. 

The walk to his apartment is a short and silent one. Once you both you enter his house, you notice that his place looks quite comfortable, cozy and surprisingly clean, unlike his desk at the office, which is always messy. There are a few pictures of friends and family on his wall and a sad looking christmas tree in one corner of the living room. Apart from this, there aren’t any decorations in his house. 

Trying to be a good host he takes off your coat for you and hangs it on his rack. “I’ll get you a change of clothes so that you can be more warm and comfortable” he says rushing into his bedroom. 

 After Yoongi and you have both freshened up and dressed comfortably, you both are seated on the couch, each with a cup of hot chocolate in hand. That awkward feeling is back again and you know he feels it too. The both of you have never really been in such a situation together, the only time the two of you interact involves a lot of bickering, so to say this is awkward is putting it lightly. 

Trying to relieve some of the tension you ask, “So…what are we going to do about dinner? Shall we order take out?”

“What? Take out on Christmas? No way.” he says appalled. “I have some chicken in the freezer, and maybe some spaghetti, we can make something.” he concludes. 

“Okayyy, but I’m not really good at cooking” you say a bit timidly.

His signature smirk that was missing for so long is back again, “The ever perfect y/n is bad at something? Somebody call the news channel” he teases. 

“Yeah yeah, I suck at cooking, everyone’s bad at something okay.”

“Well y/n, I’m sorry to disappoint, but not me. Along with my brilliant brain, charming good looks and incredible personality, I also happen to be a really good cook.” he says smiling. 

“You forgot to mention your immeasurable humility.” you say sarcastically. 

“Yes yes, that too.” he gives you a cheeky grin. 

You can’t help but chuckle. Finally you think, the awkward tension is dissipating and you both can get back to your normal bickering selves. 

After finishing with your hot chocolates, Yoongi gets up from the couch and goes toward the kitchen, “Well y/n, since you’re basically useless at cooking…” he says as he takes out an old bottle of wine from the cabinet “Why don’t you set the table instead?” he says pointing to a small table with two chairs in the corner of the kitchen. 

“Yeah, for once you take can take on the heavy load.” you say smugly and get on with the job assigned to you, while Yoongi begins to prepare the food. 

“Are you saying that I never take on the heavy load?” he asks feigning hurt. 

“Yes that’s precisely what I’m saying, Yoongi.” 

“How dare you! After I just helped you today?” he looks appalled but you can tell he doesn’t mean this seriously. 

“Oh please! You big baby, you have it so easy for you, being best friends with Hoseok and all. He lets you get  away with anything.” you complain. 

“Hey that’s not true,” he retorts, “He’s just as hard on me as he is on everyone else.”

“Oh really?” you raise an eyebrow “Then why does he always let you pick partners for any project before anyone else?” 

He goes silent at that. That’s right, he thought you didn’t know about it, but you did. 

You continue enjoying his dumbfounded expression, “And you always pick me as your partner, just to get on my nerves, I know it.” you declare. 

“Oh really now?” he says raising an eyebrow “You don’t know me or my motives, y/n” he says matter of factly. 

“Oh but I do sweetheart” you retort back with a smirk of your own. 

Yet again he’s dumbfounded and looks at you with an unreadable expression on his face, it’s almost like adoration? No, it can’t be, right? But it’s gone just as quickly, as if it never happened. 

He just shakes his head and chuckles, “Trust me y/n, Hoseok doesn’t let me choose partners, that happened only once. He just thinks the two of us work really well together and I agree with him. Don’t you?” 

“Hmm…yeah. Maybe you aren’t so incompetent at your job” you say, not wanting to admit aloud that he’s actually one of the best at Jung Corporations. 

Since you’ve finished setting the table, which there wasn’t much to do anyway, you opt to sit on the chair and watch Yoongi as he busily prepares your dinner. He looks so comfortable, like he’s done this a million times before and he probably has. He’s even humming a soft little tune to himself and you can’t help but think that he looks so peaceful. Seeing how he’s so immersed in the process, you start to notice his features, and you get why almost every girl in the office fawns over him. He is handsome, incredibly so, but of course you will never admit to this out loud. 

Just then he looks up at you and smiles, and you try to act like you weren’t just staring at him this whole time. “Dinner is almost ready,” he says, “Can you serve the wine?” 

You nod and get up to serve the wine while he places the dishes at the table, Stir fry chicken with spaghetti. You’re surprised by how good it looks, even though he just spun this up with whatever was available at home. And without further delays the two of you dig in. 

As soon as you take the first bite, you realise he was not kidding when he said he’s a great cook. “Mmmm…Yoongi, this is actually incredible” you say with a mouth full of food. 

He too, smiles back at you with a mouthful of food, “I told you didn’t I? I’m a great cook.”  

“Yeah fine, I’ll give this one to you” you say reluctantly.

The both of you settle into a comfortable silence for the rest of dinner. You can’t help but notice how domestic this all seems. Yoongi and you spending Christmas together, him cooking dinner, the two of you bickering and laughing, almost like a couple. Wait…what? A couple?  Why are you having such thoughts? No less about Min Yoongi of all the people. Something is wrong with you, maybe the wine is hitting you more than you think. Or maybe you’re just overwhelmed with the strange turn of events today and you’re just missing your family that’s all. Yeah that’s definitely got to be it. There is no other logical explanation. 

Seeing your troubled expression, Yoongi asks “Y/n, is everything okay?” 

“Yes of course, why wouldn’t it be?” you say trying not to raise suspicion. 

He moves his hand on the table to keep over yours, “I know this is probably the last thing you wanted to do, but I’m glad you came today y/n.” he says with a lot of sincerity. 

You look down at his hand over yours and look back up at his face. He has that similar unreadable expression, what is it? attraction? Adoration? Kindness? You can’t tell, but it once again has you thinking all kinds of thoughts. Not trusting yourself to speak coherent words, you don’t say anything back and just smile at him instead. 

After dinner and clearing up the kitchen, the two of you find yourselves on the couch once again, browsing through netflix deciding what to watch. You turn to look at Yoongi, his focus is on the TV, he looks a little nervous to you. You think that maybe it’s because he’s missing his family. Seeing the pictures on the wall and remembering the few times he’s mentioned his family at work in passing, does seem like he’s close to them. This makes you wonder what was that ‘prior commitment’ that was so important to delay his flight. He was being so evasive about it before, which makes you all the more curious, so you  decide to ask him again. 

“Hey Yoongi” you start

“Hmm?” he says without taking his eyes off the Television. 

“What was the reason you delayed your ticket?” you ask.

He stills at that, and turns to look at you. “This again? I told you it was nothing.” 

“It can’t be nothing if you had to sacrifice seeing your family for it.” you retort. 

“Well, I wasn’t sacrificing” he declares, “I just delayed my trip, I didn’t know this snow storm would come right?” 

“Still Yoongi!” you insist, “What was so important that it had to be done on Christmas?” 

“Y/n, why can’t you just let it go?” he asks tiredly “It was just a stupid thing.” 

“If it’s so stupid, why can’t you just tell me?” you demand. 

“Ugh y/n” he whines. 

“What? You constantly annoy and tease me, And the one time I ask you something you’re being shady about you can’t answer me?” you complain. 

He doesn’t respond to that. He doesn’t even look at you. He goes back to focusing on the Television, browsing through options. 

Frustrated you continue, “Is it something illegal?” you ask in a whisper “Drugs? Theft? Murder?!” 

“Y/n! Have you lost your mind?” he asks incredulously. “It’s nothing, just let it go.” he says with a tone of finality. 

But you are not you if not stubborn right? 

“It must a girlfriend then.” you say speculatively. “Why would you want to hide that Yoongi?”

“Y/n…it’s not that I already told you.” he says and you can see he’s losing his patience. 

“Then what is it?” you insist. “Why won’t you tell me? What can possibly be so goddamn important–”  

“Because of you!!” he interrupts you loudly “I heard that you were working overtime and cancelled my flight for you!” 

Immediately, you can see the shock and regret on his face. This is something he clearly did not want to say to you. 

You go completely silent at that. Gaping at him. You don’t know what to say. Why would he cancel his flight just for you? It makes no sense. 

“What? For me?” you ask confused. “Yoongi that makes no–” suddenly something clicks in your brain. 

“Yoongi, do you…do you like me?” you ask in a soft voice. 

He’s just staring at you. Silent for a moment before he answers, “I thought it was pretty obvious”

Your heart is pounding so fast at the moment, you’re afraid it’s going to burst. Did Min Yoongi just confess to you? Your mind is filled with so many questions. Why would he always annoy you and make you miserable then? Your mind is not able to wrap around this entire thing. 

Seeing you in shock like this, he begins, “Look y/n, I didn’t want you to find out this way I’m sorry, and I know you will probably never feel the same so can we just–”

You speak before he can even complete his sentence, “If you really like me then why do you always annoy me? And get me all riled up?” 

He looks a little embarrassed at that question, “Well…you see when you first joined work, you were so quiet and hardly spoke to people and I didn’t know any other way to get your attention. And well after that it was just so hard to go back so I kind of stuck with it.” he says looking at anything but you. 

You mind is still processing what he just said. Min Yoongi likes you. Has probably liked you for a long time. And all the times he annoys you was to get your attention? 

Seeing no response from you, he continues, “Y/n, I know you probably hate me even more now, I’m sorry I didn’t want it to happen like this. You’re probably regretting coming home with me tonight.” he says a bit too dejectedly. 

You look at him once again and think back to tonight, he was so much fun to talk to and spend time with. And when you really think about it, even though he annoys you to pieces, he’s never crossed a line, always so thorough with his work and you’ve seen him with other people, he’s always so kind and empathetic towards everyone. And right now he looks so dejected, that it makes your heart hurt, so you do something that you would probably never do while sober. Yes, let’s blame it on the insignificant amount of wine you consumed. 

You grab Yoongi’s face, and crush your lips to his. 

His whole body stiffens at the contact. You don’t let that deter you and continue to kiss him. His lips feel so soft and smooth and after a moment of hesitation, he starts to kiss you back. 

He unconsciously pulls you over his lap, without breaking the kiss,  so you’re now straddling him. You put your arms around his neck and tug at his hair, while his are around your waist pulling you even more closer to deepen the kiss and you’re practically gasping for air when he realises something and pulls away. 

His face is flushed, hair is messy yet you can’t help but think that he looks so incredibly hot. 

“Wait..so” he says in a deep voice “Does this mean…?” he looks at you hesitantly. 

You just put your head back and give a small chuckle. “Yes it does” you say “What happened to that brilliant brain of yours now?” you ask with a raised eyebrow. 

He just laughs, “I’ve never been so thankful for a snow storm before” he says with a huge grin on his face. 

You laugh once again and lean forward to kiss him on his nose, “Merry Christmas Yoongi.” 

He gives you a smile that could melt away all the snow. “Merry Christmas y/n.” 

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

 A/N: Hi it’s dragonfly here. I hope you liked it! I would love to hear your thoughts and comments. :)

[benexolence]

Tense (M) pt.1

CEO!Park Jimin x Reader

Word count: 5.4k

Rating = M, F (it was hard not to put fluff in, i’m too soft for chimmy)

SUMMARY: You’ve been subtly teasing your stressed-out boyfriend over the past couple of weeks, and you push him a bit too far at a company dinner, making him want to show you what it’s like to be frustrated.

Warnings: dom!jimin, daddy kink, dirty talk, exhibitionism, degradation, slight-ish possessiveness (bruh IDK), fingering

A/N: There are two parts to this fic! This was originally gonna be a oneshot but it would’ve been MONSTER to post LMFAO but I’ll post pt.2 within the next 2 weeks! Stay tuned :-) ****PART 2 IS OFFICIALLY POSTED! LINK TO PART 2 IS IN MY MASTERLIST!

Jimin had been very tense for the past couple of weeks. Being the CEO of BigHit, there was already a lot riding on him. Recently, his company bought out another company, BT21 and although this transaction would be beneficial for the future of his company, it didn’t necessarily mean that his transition would be smooth. If anything, it was putting a lot of weight on his shoulders, trying to figure out which workers to lay off or what sectors to change entirely, through the means of endless meetings, soon became excruciating. There were so many things to be done, and there wasn’t enough time in the day to complete everything. The tight pressure started to build in his shoulders and his mind as the lack of sleep from early mornings and late nights as the weeks went on. Jimin swore that he began to feel his brain melting.

It didn’t help that he start to see his love less and less. The quality free-time he’d usually spend with you decreased dramatically, turning the salacious sleepovers nearly every weekend into occasional Facetime pillow-talks that would end quickly since he’d almost immediately shut his exhausted eyes once his head hit the soft pillow. He just missed you, so much. Not being able to see you was like trying to substitute ranch for chocolate in a cake and it just didn’t work with him.

At night. Jimin is a needy boy, so destitute that the dreamland that he briefly arrived in every night was scent and taste of the juices that would fall between your thighs as you scream for him to give you more. His mind was clouded with clips of your writhing body, all nice and sweet, just for him. Jimin swore that he’d wake up to your whimpers echoing throughout his bedroom, only to find that you’re not there but his hard-on was painfully present. You couldn’t leave his mind. His lust was overflowing, and he even tried jerking off with his non-dominant hand, nothing worked.

For you, on the other hand, things were going pretty decently. You didn’t have much to complain about; you just got a raise at work, all your old friends were back in town, things were going pretty well for you. So, it was a bit amusing for you to hear all of this happening. You missed him greatly, and you longed to see him, but you were thankfully distracted by the better things happening in your life. You were worried about your boyfriend, but it’s uncommon to hear him whine for you and you felt a bit a pride when he’d tell you about how much he and his dick missed you. So to add to your amusement, you’d send some inappropriate pictures along with detailed texts of how much you desired him. When you went out with your friends, you would take a picture of yourself in a scandalous dress to rile him up a bit for the night, only to take that dress off after the image was sent, then change into something that you were a bit more comfortable in, (without him knowing of course). When Jimin was provoked in such a way, it always ended in ground-breaking sex. You still loved the fact that Jimin was a compassionate lover, it’s just that you didn’t see that dominant side of him very often and sometimes, you needed him to be a little bit rough.

Tonight was the first night that you would see Jimin after such a long time. There was a company dinner to celebrate the end of this chaos, and it was a perfect time to see you. Jimin liked to think of your presence as a gift to himself, for working himself to the bone. Both of you and him were giggling like children all day because it’s been so long and the two of you would finally fill the gnawing hole that’s been heavy on the two hearts. You wanted this night to be perfect, so you spent hours just picking and choosing the color scheme for your outfit deciding to go with a simple and sophisticated approach. Although you wanted Jimin to be the happiest tonight, you felt a throbbing need for something rough as the little devil on your shoulders convinced you to egg him on a bit. You decided to keep the egging to a slight minimum, and you went for the little black dress with a simple set of jewelry and light makeup that gave you a natural look. The dress did wonders to accentuate your curves, and you had an inkling that Jimin might go mad when he sees your outfit. It was perfect for setting off his mood, in the direction you prefer.

Jimin felt that it was crucial that he’d pick you up tonight. It was vital for him to have at least five minutes of alone time with you in the car before you two spent the next few hours with a garden of people he didn’t really care for; he’d probably only be focusing on you anyway. He was also hoping to convince you to let him sleep over for the night, already packing his things for the night because the answer will always be some form of “yes.” Jimin felt that spending these hours with you would melt away all the weight that’s been straining his body. He didn’t care if he was between your thighs or laying by your side, he just wanted to spend some time with you.

Jimin threw his overnight-bag in the backseat of his car and texted you a quick “on my way sweetheart” before rushing himself over to your apartment, almost running a few red-lights because he couldn’t wait any longer. He couldn’t stop smiling; he was excited to see his girl after so many weeks.

It was the same way with you after you got his text, you practically had a face tattoo of a smile. You rushed to the bathroom, looking at yourself in the mirror to make sure that you looked perfect. As you fixed yourself up in the few minutes you had left, memories of the times where Jimin left you breathless made you excited. Your cheeks became flushed with such crude thoughts led you to think of possible ideas to ensure your demise tonight.

You were pulled back to reality as you heard a knocking at your door. The excitement came back in seconds as you ran to the door and swung it open, to find Jimin looking at you with nothing but pure love. You were in awe by his choices for his appearance tonight. Jimin wore an all-black suit, without a tie, giving a bit of a casual feel. He wore a gold necklace, and he parted his hair so a bit of the center of his forehead being shown.

Both of you took a few seconds to accept the fact that both of you are together again before he quickly grabbed your arm so you’d fall into his arms. Jimin hugged you tightly, almost like he was afraid that if he let go, you would never come back. He buried his face into your neck, and you could feel him smiling.

“I’ve missed you so much” Jimin whispered softly into your neck, leading you to giggle as his breath tickled your skin.

“But I talked to you yesterday” You chuckled softly, thinking about the Facetime call that only lasted three minutes before Jimin started snoring.

“I fell asleep! How in the world does that count?” Jimin started to swing around, with you in his arms, “Did you not miss me? Not only a little bit?”

“Maybe, maybe not. It doesn’t matter because you’re always asleep when I try to talk to you anyway.” You say with a sassy tone before escaping his grasp to turn around and walk further into your apartment, looking to grab your purse.

“Y/N, baby please” Jimin whined as he followed behind you. You could already tell that there was a pout on his face by the tone of his voice. You found your purse, and you started to look through the bag, making sure that you had everything you needed. Before you realize it, Jimin was standing right in front of you, slightly stomping his feet. “Baby, I’m sorry for falling asleep all the time, but that doesn’t mean you get to ignore me.”

Looking at his upset face, you realize that you definitely can’t be bratty right now. He’s too damn cute, and you couldn’t resist it, not after such a long time. You smile at him, “You’re lucky that I have the biggest soft spot for you. I’ll forgive you this time.” But your last few words are meaningless because you’ll always forgive him for anything, leading you to let out a chuckle.

Your laugh was cut short when Jimin suddenly cups the apples of your cheeks, looking at you with appreciation. “Seriously though, I am sorry. You don’t understand how hard it’s been for me, not being able to talk to you. I’ve missed you more than anything.”

Jimin never failed to make you feel loved. There was never a time where you felt unappreciated and unwanted by him because he always did everything in his power to make sure that those thoughts would never cross your mind. Although there has been a lack of presence in the past few weeks, there were no worries that arrived in your mind because he still tried to talk to you, even if his sleepiness won most of the time.

“It’s okay, Jimin. I know that you’ve been busy, so it’s alright. I’ve missed you too.” You spoke softly.

“I love you, sweetheart,” Jimin whispered before pulling you forward to kiss your forehead. He let go of your cheeks, only to slide his hands into yours. He pulled you towards the door, “Now, l wanna get there early so I can sit in the car and shit on the idiots that we’re gonna be near tonight.”

You laughed as the both of you left your apartment and set route to the restaurant.

The car ride was filled with nothing but laughter and joy as you both exchange memories that occurred over the past few weeks. Both you and Jimin felt absolute elation; nothing was better than being in the company of someone you love. Soon, both of you were parked outside of the restaurant, shit-talking about the coworkers that made his life an absolute nightmare over the past couple of weeks. Irritation started to seep into Jimin’s bones as the anger over their actions came to mind. You notice Jimin’s change of tone, and you felt the need to calm the fire that was growing in his mind. You moved your hand to give a calming rub on his bicep, “You don’t have to worry about it now. The past is the past, and now you can focus on the success that’s gonna be rolling your way.”

Jimin looked to your smiling face, but his eyes slowly followed the length of your dress, his pupils dilating in mixed emotions over how noticeable your legs were in the dress. Suddenly, his mind went through to all the frustration he felt with you during your absence; seeing you in such revealing attire, hearing about how much you need him, all the subtle teasing that you’ve been pulling over the past few weeks that would always leave him with an erection. All emotions came racing back to his mind and his cock, making him feel nothing but tense again. The current state of your naked legs started to tease him a bit, Why is she wearing that dress right now? To fucking spite me? God, in the very moment, he just wanted to fucking explode.

His ring-covered hand went straight for your thigh, squeezing the soft skin in a vice-grip. Your eyes went straight to his hand as you gasped at the cold feeling of his rings. You look up to Jimin’s face, only to find the irises of his eyes slowly disappearing to black, mixed with lust and vexation.

His voice comes out low when he initially speaks, “Y/N, that dress--” Jimin takes a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves from thinking illogically. It’s just a dress. There’s nothing to it. She isn’t trying to pull anything with me. “It looks stunning on you” Jimin plants a smile on his face as he squeezes his grip on your thigh a bit harder, leaving an imprint of his rings. Momentarily, he decided that your teasing would be a topic of discussion for later that evening, it would be such bad timing to discuss something like that right now.

Although you were taken back by the quick change in emotions that you just witnessed, it still didn’t stop your stomach from doing flips from his compliment, knowing that it’s genuine. But what lingered in your mind was the reason for the sudden emotional changes, reasons that you already knew. You could see the tension in his jaw as a vein comes to the surface of his neck, which just sent electricity straight downward. You spoke, “Thank you, Jimin.” It seems as if your plan is working, you had a reassuring thought about how the subtle hints work the best. All you wanted was for him to take you in the car at that moment, you didn’t necessarily want to wait any longer.

There were a few moments of silence before Jimin’s phone buzzed. He pulled his phone out to see one of his favorite colleagues texting him.

[6:03 pm] Kim Taehyung: I know you don’t want to be here, but that doesn’t mean you and Y/N can avoid the dinner by sitting in the car until it’s over.

Confused by Taehyung’s knowledge of his location, Jimin looked up from his phone and searched from outside the window, only to find that his colleague leaning against the car parked right next to him. Jimin got out of the car to greet him, “Thank god that you and Y/N at least here with me to get through this.”

Taehyung chuckled and gave Jimin a quick side hug, “I honestly don’t know how you and I got through this past quarter. I can’t wait to sit with you and see what you do as a consequence for everyone.”

Taehyung was the CFO of the company, but also a life-saver for Jimin for the past few years. Jimin and Taehyung had been very close friends since college, and it’s been an absolute relief for Jimin to have him in the company. Taehyung took more of an emphasis on finance rather than sales, unlike Jimin; which was helpful since there was no competition in success or jealousy in career advances between them. Either way, Taehyung, and Jimin climbing up the career ladder together, eventually landing executive positions in the same corporation.

You got out of the car as well and walk over to the two boys with a smile on your face. You were happy to see Taehyung. “Taehyung! How have you been? It’s been so long!” You gave him a quick hug, and as you let go, you notice Taehyung’s lingering gaze on your legs as he takes hold on both of your hands.

“I’ve been good, Y/N! I don’t think I need to ask you how you’ve been doing since you look lovely tonight.” Taehyung smiles with a toothy grin before letting go of your hands and looking at Jimin, “You gotta be careful Jimin. You might have to keep an eye on Y/N because you don’t wanna lose a girl like her so easily.” Taehyung was always a flirty guy, but he never meant any harm, of course, he just liked to tease Jimin a bit.

Usually, Jimin would joke around about how Taehyung would never end up with anyone but his assistant, Jungkook, but right now, it was not the time for Taehyung to even glance at his girlfriend’s figure for any more seconds. Jimin needed to keep himself control, he needed to stay calm. Jimin joked with a little strain in his voice as you and him starting walking towards the restaurant, “I don’t need to keep an eye on her when you have googly eyes for your assistant. Which by the way, I know you’ve been fucking, I saw the way he looks at your ass.”

“Jungkook looks at everyone’s butt! I saw him looking at your butt the other day! Either way, he’s a man-child, and I’m nurturing him for the real world.” Taehyung raised his voice while running behind the both of you, trying to deny the truth that he’s been trying to hide from everyone.

“Yeah yeah yeah, whatever you say Tae,” You turn towards Taehyung and continued. “We’ll always love you. You don’t have to hide your love for him forever.” You chuckled as you watched Taehyung start yelling nonsense as to how he’s definitely not with Jungkook and how he definitely hasn’t seen him every night for the past three weeks.

Jimin felt a bit of relief when he heard Taehyung’s babbling and your various sayings of “it’s okay, don’t worry.” I’ll be okay. Things will be fine. He reassured himself before all the three of you entered the restaurant and started to greet coworkers.

Dinner was not fine, and things were not okay. For some fucking reason, all male eyes of Jimin’s coworkers were staring at your chest throughout the evening. Jimin swore that he saw his coworker wipe the drool off his chin from staring too long. Not only that, some damn waiter named Hoseok even started fucking flirting with you, right in front of Jimin. It seemed like every male-body who was in your presence eye-fucked you, even with Jimin’s eyes sending fire to anyone who looked lustfully towards your body. Jimin wanted to spank your ass and fuck you on the goddamn dinner table every passing moment, to show everything that you belong to him and only him.

For you, on the other hand, your plan was going smoothly. You noticed the slow transition of Jimin’s mind from neutral to sour. You saw him sending fiery stares straight ahead, losing himself in the flames of his imagination, and you couldn’t help but cheer happily in your mind. But obviously, you couldn’t display your joy to the world. You saw that he barely took a bite of his entree and you decided to act the part as the caring girlfriend for the time being. “Hey honey, is everything okay? You haven’t touched your food.”

Jimin took a deep breath before turning to you, wanting to answer your question with kindness, “Um, yeah baby. It’s alright. I’m just not that hungry right now.” He pulled a quick smile for you before moving his fiery eyes to his plate, slowing moving to eat his food on his plate.

You knew he needed a push, a slight nudge towards the fall that you so desperately needed to feel all over your body. So you decided to start a conversation with Taehyung. It seemed that the boy had a bit too much to drink and you knew that Taehyung is a lot more flirty when he’s tipsy. You spoke with a bit of prep in your voice to the buzzed man across from you, “How are you feeling tonight, Tae? It looks like you’re having a good time.”

Taehyung turned to you with a grin on his face and started to laugh, “Y/N, I always have a good time with you around.” He leaned in and continued to spoke, “Did I tell you that you look lovely tonight?”

You giggle before answering his question, “Yes you did, Tae. You don’t remember?” You reciprocated his actions and moved towards him, so it looks like you’re only focused on him.

“Well, scratch that, because you look fucking ravishing right now.” Taehyung’s baritone voice seemingly got lower than you expected.

“Taehyung!” You started to giggle, even more, exaggerating your actions, “You don’t mean that”

Taehyung leaned in even closer, “Oh darling,” His eyes looking at your body, leaving his eyes to stalk your chest. “I mean every word I’ll ever say to you.” His voice was husky, and it just leaks with danger. This is precisely what you needed. This is the push that Jimin needed.

And you were right because Jimin was fucking boiling with sheer anger. Taehyung called you “ravishing,” he fucking leaned into you, like you didn’t belong to him. And you were just sitting there, taking it. Not even acknowledging the fact that your boyfriend was sitting right next to you, watching the entire thing. Maybe you were doing this on purpose. Perhaps you actually have been fucking with him for the past few weeks. Either way, the only thing that mattered to Jimin is to show that you fucking belong to him.

Once again, you jumped in your seat as the coolness of Jimin’s rings touch gripped your thigh. You felt him squeeze your skin before his thumb starts rubbing gentle circles. You turned to him, and his eyes were trained entirely ahead, engaging a conversation with one of his coworkers. You leaned back into your seat, heavily distracted by the distance between his hand and your clothed core. You took a deep breath to relax before continuing your conversation with Taehyung, but how can you focus when his hand is subtly teasing you under the table?

“Tae, I think you’ve had a bit too much to drink.” You spoke as your mind tried to force on the man ahead of you. But unfortunately for you, Jimin knew what you were doing so his hand decided to follow the direction of your body, sliding underneath your dress. He squeezed again, leading you to squirm slightly in your seat. You tried so hard to listen to Taehyung ramble on about how sober he is, but it felt like there was barely any oxygen in the room at the moment. You started to lean forward again, to look like you’re interested in what he has to say but as soon as you began to move, Jimin’s hand moved to your core, lightly rubbing you through your panties. You yelped in surprise, causing all eyes to move towards you.

“Baby, are you okay?” Jimin sounded so sincere, but he already knew your answer. He started rubbing you a bit harder, causing you to squirm even more in your seat. Your breaths started to shake as you realized how mortifying this situation was; everyone was staring while your boyfriend rubbed your clit in a public restaurant. But somehow, you felt exhilarated at such a display, leading to the coil to tighten in your stomach.

“Yeah, I’m f-fine.” You needed to keep your responses to a minimum. You couldn’t let anyone know the truth behind your dishonest words. You’re not fine. You’re fucking fantastic because Jimin has finally touched you, something you’ve been waiting for a long time.

“Are you sure? You sound a bit anxious.”  Jimin’s fingers moved your panties to the side. His middle finger slipped inside your folds, teasing your hole.

You knew if you opened your mouth, you would start whimpering, so you nodded your head towards Jimin and threw a weary smile on your face. You looked around to find that the eyes of his coworkers were off of you now. Jimin leaned in closer to your ear and spoke, “Baby, you better fucking speak up right now, or I wouldn’t touch you for another month.”

All you wanted to do is whine and let Jimin do sinful acts to your body, but you knew that this side of Jimin wouldn’t be tame unless you listen to his words. “Yes, I’m okay Jimin.” You whispered softly.

You heard Jimin sigh, and it sounded like he was frustrated with your answer. He impulsively pushed his middle finger inside, pumping it at a slow pace. Jimin moved again to your ear, “That’s not my name tonight. Tell me, baby, what’s my name?”

His fingers were going agonizingly slow, but since your body has been so unsatisfied for the past few weeks, the pressure seemed to double. You could barely answer his question without focusing on the sharp sparks that coursing throughout your body. You don’t call Jimin anything else besides loving pet names and his actual name. What could he possibly be asking for?

Before you could think about it any further, Jimin added another finger inside you. A small mewl crawled from your mouth as you leaned towards Jimin, hiding your face in his shoulder. “I-I don’t know.” The build of your impending orgasm was growing faster, leaving your body to be shaking by his side. You were trying so hard, but it’s just so hard when everything is turning you on.

Jimin curled his two fingers to your g-spot, leading you to whine into his dress shirt. Jimin chuckled, happy to see you withering for him so quickly. His voice was stern when he started whispering again, “It seems like you’ve been missing Daddy’s fingers, huh?”

Daddy? He’s never called himself that before. Jimin has never brought that kink up but how does it matter now when he sounds so fucking hot talking to you like that? His fingers start moving faster, and your legs start shaking. He’s curling his fingers with each thrust, and the burning-pleasure is leaving your mind blank. You gotta warn him of how your end is almost near, “D-Daddy, I’m close.”

“Awh baby, you’re close? You like it when Daddy finger-fucks you under the dinner table, with everyone around us?” His words are only bringing you closer to your end, and you were struggling to keep your composure.

“Y-Yes, Daddy” Your voice was shaking, and you look up to Jimin, only to see his eyes filled with nothing but black lust.

“Of course you do. How can you not? A slut like you love everything that’s done to them. Do you even know how dirty you are?” Such a name should irritate you but god, it was sending arousal to your core, and you find yourself whining for him.

My eyes immediately shut in pure paradise, and you started to squirm again when Jimin’s thumb landed back on your naked clit. Jimin’s lips glaze your ear, “Cum for me, right now.”

His tone of voice was deep and stern, which led you to lose control. Your hands quickly covered your face in order to conceal the moans that escaped your mouth as your orgasm sweeps through your body. Jimin continues to rub your swollen nub as you ride it out. You were trying to catch your breath as your face turned away from your hands to Jimin, only to find him smirking.

Suddenly, Jimin grabbed your hands and stood up from his seat, bring you up with him. “I apologize everyone, but it seems that Y/N isn’t feeling too well right now, so I think it’s time for us to take our leave. Y/N wants to stay, but I wouldn’t feel good if we did stay. I’ll see you all at work on Monday.” Jimin waved goodbye to his coworkers while you kept your head down, playing up the “sick” act correctly. You waved to everyone as well as both of you started walking towards the car.  As soon as both of you were outside of the restaurant, Jimin wrapped his arm around your waist, squeezed your ass, and let his hand rest at your hip. As you both walked to the car, you looked up to him. You could see that he was relieved to be done with that dinner and happy to go home with you. Both of you got to the car, and before Jimin could unlock the car, he interrupted by the sight of Taehyung running towards you.

“Y/N!” Taehyung stopped right in front of you and grabbed your hand, whipping you out of Jimin’s hands and in his direction. “Why didn’t you tell me that you weren’t feeling well?” Taehyung murmured as he looked at your small hand in his large one.

“Oh, I didn’t want to worry you, or anyone.” You took your hand out of his and waved it in front of him for reassurance. “Don’t worry about it! I just need some sleep.” You smiled at him, and he leaned in closer to you, like at the dining table.

Taehyung grabbed your hand again, rubbing circles on the back of it before looking up to you. “Call me when you get home, alright? I wanna know that you’re okay.”

You were happy to have a friend like him in your friend, and your smile got brighter at that thought. “Of course! I’ll see you soon.”

The flirty side of him came back as he kissed the back of your hand before letting it go. “I’ll see you soon darling.” Taehyung had a goofy grin again and looked to Jimin, “I’ll see you on Monday man, don’t let your girl get sick or I’ll help her out instead.” He winked at you, and he started to laugh as he began to walk away.

Although you thought this was funny, Jimin did not at all. You only realize this when you saw the several veins in his neck pushing up to his skin. “I’ll see ya later.” He spoke through gritted teeth. You saw his fists tighten so hard that you felt he might actually break his bones. In the years that you’ve been dating Jimin, you’ve never seen him so angry. He unlocked the car and walked over to the passenger side, opening the door for you. He realized that you were frozen in place, so he started to speak in the sweetest tone he can muster up with the anger running through his veins, “Y/N, get in the fucking car right now, or things will get worse.”

You practically bolted to the car seat, and you felt the car shake as Jimin slammed your door shut. He walked over to the driver’s side and sat in the car. He repeated his actions, and he harshly closes his door before putting his hands on the wheel. He exhaled deeply and turned to you, “Tonight, you’re gonna listen to every word I say. Do you understand, sweetheart?” You nodded your head to him, analyzing the strain in his voice. He was frustrated, and you honestly did not expect this level of dominance. “Good girl.” He responded before turning on the car.

You look down to your hands, thinking about what could happen tonight and all the things Jimin might do to you. “Are we going home?” You asked politely, wanting to alleviate his irritation.

Your question had the opposite effect, causing his veins to strain more. His jaw clenched, and he slowly turned to you at a menacing pace, “Baby, did I say that you could talk?” You were about to open your mouth, but Jimin continued, “I don’t wanna hear another word out of your mouth. Got it?” You nodded your head and returned to the position that you were in previously. Jimin’s hand lingered on your thigh and squeezed it to get your attention. “Tell me a safeword.”

A safeword? There were a few moments of silence before you thought of a sinister idea. You thought to yourself, He was already angry, why not triggering him more? You had a sense of where this night will lead to, and you were happy with the results. But a part of you wanted to tease him a bit more.

Jimin spoke once more, “Have you thought of it yet? Tell me.”

You muster up all the confidence you had, and you began, “Yes I did. The safeword is Taehyung.”

You thought that Jimin was angry before, but you were fucked now. You could feel the tension in the air.

His nails dig into your thighs, close to breaking the skin. You could see the stream coming out nostrils as he looked at you with nothing but depravity. You swore that he growled when he spoke, “Okay.”

You were screwed for tonight, but in every perfect way, right?

[heryellowcup]

Prompt: Chloe's a health-conscious med student and Beca's a chain-smoking art student who’s also a barista and Chloe leave her notes on smoking and lung health on her napkins and also a 20-page essay on lung cancer

okay i’m saying this a lot lately but this was so much fun to write, even though i didn’t have a lot of time so i hope it turned out okay!!

“She did it again, huh?” Stacie smirked as she took a look at the napkin that was sprawled out on the counter, causing Beca to jump in surprise and then roll her eyes at both her best friend and the note in front of her.

“A single cigarette contains over 4800 chemicals, 69 of which are known to cause cancer. Do you really want to die?” Beca read out loud, chuckling and shaking her head in amusement. The redhead’s notes had started off as informative facts about smoking, but had now turned into ones that began to be a lot more passive aggressive, probably thanks to Beca still smoking, though she, admittedly, sometimes tried to hide her cigarette when she crossed paths with Chloe on campus. Chloe. She only knew her name because of these notes, the other girl always making sure to finish them with her own name, one that Beca had started to grow fond of these past few weeks, in the strangest way. They never really talked except for the usual chit chat she unfortunately had to indulge in considering she worked behind the counter at a coffee shop and it was an understatement to say that Beca was tempted to shoot back some facts about the unhealthy side effects of coffee, though the redhead usually drank tea or a hot chocolate. Something that Beca found oddly adorable.

And while they barely ever talked, Chloe often smiled at her across the room while she studied with her blonde friend, sometimes glanced at her in such a friendly way that contradicted the angry messages Beca received from her every day.

The brunette had no doubt in mind that the other girl was a med student, if said messages and the amount of time she spent studying was anything to go by. And while Beca found the redhead’s antics more than just a little annoying, she couldn’t help but smile whenever there was a new note scribbled on a napkin directed to her, whenever Chloe glared at her through the window when she took a tiny break to smoke. It was fun, riling her up.

Beca wasn’t even surprised that Stacie had looked through her right away, smirk still not having left her lips. “She cares about you.”

“She’s annoying and she doesn’t know me,” Beca corrected, rolling her eyes once again. Neither of them commented on the fact that the tiny barista didn’t throw the napkin away, but instead tried to discretely slip it into her bag. “And I’m not going to stop smoking just because she’s-”

“Because she’s what? Cute?” Stacie teased, earning herself another angry glare and a playful nudge to her shoulder.

“Shut up.”

There was another napkin every single day, another fact that was supposed to make Beca feel bad, but instead just made her feel fuzzy and warm as she watched the redhead choose her words, thoughtful expression on her face, as she watched her scribble it down, tongue cutely poking out between her lips, as she watched her either leave it on her table and stride out of the shop or watched her slam it on the counter in an effort to look angry, her cheeks rosy, smile tugging on the corners of her lips.

She kept each and every one of them, thought they were endearing, thought they in itself revealed so much about the beautiful stranger that was making her life a lot more complicated, day by day.

It was a week later that, instead of a napkin, Beca found a 20-page essay on lung cancer on Chloe’s table, clearly addressed towards her.

“For the art student that spends her time smoking instead of drawing and is gonna die soon if she keeps this up.”

Beca couldn’t help but laugh out loud as she studied the whole thing, especially said sentence written on the first page, as well as the little notes and angry emoji faces that were spread over the pages, in the handwriting that the barista would recognize everywhere. The redhead had even highlighted some important parts and the color coordination impressed Beca and made her fall even harder at the same time.

“Well, someone’s done their research.” Of course Stacie hadn’t been able to stop a teasing comment escape her lips as she snatched the essay from Beca and looked through the pages. “She knows you’re an art student and god, she’s got it bad for you.”

“You’re not helping,” Beca mumbled as she took the essay again and slipped it into her bag. This was Chloe judging her, chastising her and trying to educate her, and usually Beca would’ve scoffed, would have thrown it into the trash. But no matter what it was, it was hers and Chloe’s and she didn’t even want Stacie to read it, wanted it all to herself.

“You’re a goner, Mitchell. I’m giving you a week, a week before you’re actually gonna try to quit.”

Beca actually did scoff, then.

It was a relatively slow day when Beca first sketched her, the coffee shop almost empty except for a few stressed students, one of them being Chloe, hair thrown into a messy bun, the rather dim light making the shadows play with her beautiful features as she sat in the corner of the shop, effortlessly beautiful.

While the brunette usually tried to forget about the things that Chloe made her read, the things that secretly made her feel pretty bad about herself and her health, she hadn’t been able to stop thinking about one certain observation the redhead had made.

“You’re an art student that doesn’t draw.”

And so she did. Using her free time between customers to capture the gorgeous girl in the back. The statement had spurred her on, had made her competitive side scream, just like the view in front of her was now making her feel all kinds of things.

She started out with a rough sketch to get back into the scheme of things, but Stacie immediately recognized the med-student when she discretely glanced at Beca’s notebook as she walked by. She didn’t say anything, just grinned to herself.

In just an hour Beca had gathered several drawings of the girl, some rough, some raw, some detailed and all of them perfectly capturing the bubbly and caring persona the other girl carried.

And Beca left one of them on the redhead’s table when she brought her another hot chocolate, all nervous and rosy cheeks and quickly running away so she wouldn’t actually have to talk to her, so she couldn’t make a fool out of herself.

Chloe’s bright smile as she studied the drawing almost made Beca want to quit smoking.

Beca hated working the early shift, hated getting up before the sun rose and just shortly after she had fallen asleep, busy working on her music and art and endless projects that tended to always keep her awake at night. She was still half asleep, even after having had her first coffee, as she stood in front of the shop, smoking a cigarette, jacket tightly wrapped around herself, the cold wind hitting her face. It was going to be stormy day, Beca thought as she inhaled the fresh morning air, smelling of rain already, before she did the same with the toxic smoke.

She almost chuckled to herself when she started reading the first page of the essay she was currently holding, the one she had promised herself not to read. And she actually jumped, actually squealed in surprise when a familiar redhead suddenly stood right in front of her.

“Jeez, give a girl a warning!” Beca chuckled, shaking her head as she exhaled some smoke, looking at the dark sky in an effort to avoid Chloe’s gaze.

“You’re…” the other girl started, frown on her lips that then turned into a bright smile as she spotted the essay in Beca’s hand, immediately recognizing what it was. “You’re reading it.”

“Looks like I am,” Beca shrugged, trying to be nonchalant even though the little smile clearly gave her away, one that had erupted upon seeing cute dimples that she was longing to trace with her fingertips.

“And you’re still smoking.” Chloe’s sigh almost made Beca feel bad and there was a little pause before the redhead kept talking, voice barely above a whisper, laced with admiration. “That drawing you did of me…wow…”

As soon as Beca felt the blush creep up her neck, she decided not to dwell on the subject. “I just started reading it.”

Chloe’s eyes widened at the statement, her smile broadening. “Does that mean there’s still a chance you might quit?”

Beca chuckled and shook her head in amusement as she put out the cigarette she had barely started smoking, throwing it into the trash and opening the door for Chloe. “Come on, let’s go get you a coffee.”

[still-figuring-me-out]

The Social Worker and the Businesswoman AU - chapter 5

The next morning at 7:45AM Judge Ellington sat scowling at her desk. She hated being summoned, especially during her break. Some may call a 7PM phone call from a city councilman asking for her to meet with some unknown party in her chambers early the next morning as a suggestion, but Suzanne recognized it for what it was; a summons to drop whatever she had prepared and make herself available. So here she sat drumming her fingers on her office desk and growing more impatient as the minutes ticked by. She was determined that if this mystery person was not in her officer promptly at 8AM she would be leaving at 8:01 and the consequences be damned. When a single knock was placed on her door at 8 on the dot Suzanne found herself equal parts curious and disappointed. Curious to see who wanted to meet with her and why they could not wait until the new year and disappointed that she would not be able to give them a taste of their own medicine.

“Enter,” she called. To say she was surprised when a petite woman with midnight black hair and piercing green eyes stepped into her office would be an understatement.

“Good morning Judge Ellington,” the waif in front of her began with a lilting Irish accent. “Let me first apologize for intruding on what I know would be your holiday period but..”

“Just tell me who you represent and what they want so we can both get on with our day,” she interrupted. “Which of the good ole boys from National City are you schlepping for? Just get it over with so I can get back to my family.” She was greeted by a single, perfectly groomed eyebrow arched and a direct stare. This one actually has a personality she thought, she’d better learn to cover it though or she’d get eaten alive’.

“I assure you that I answer to no-one but very well let’s get down to business,” came the immediate response. “My name is Lena Luthor and I’d like to talk about someone whose case you presided over.”

“Luthor? As in Luthor Corp?” Judge Ellington thundered.

“Luthor as in L-Corp formally known as Luther Corp yes,” Lena returned. “I can’t imagine that there are too many of us in a city the size of National City.”

“I’d heard of the renaming and the relocation of the headquarters but I never thought that in my line of work I’d ever have need to run into a Luthor ever again,” Judge Ellington says bitterly. “So what are you some distant cousin?”

“What I am,” Lena replies drawing herself up to her full 5’3 height, “is someone who’s sure that you have more interesting things to do today that delve into my pedigree.”

“Just like a Luthor,” Suzanne scoffed, “so sure that your time is more valuable than anyone else’s. No consideration for anyone but yourselves. Parasites the whole lot of you.”

“I could stand here and allow you to continue to hurl insults at me,” Lena drawled, “or we could get to the business that has us both down here so that you can return to your holiday in the shortest possible time.”

“I don’t do deal with Luthors,” Suzanne spat.

“Really?” smirked Lena insolently. “Then you would be the only person in this city who does not.”

“Get. Out.” Suzanne ground out. “Your kind is not welcomed in my chambers.”

“I do believe,” Lena says walking confidently into the office, “that the large donation my company made to the mayor’s campaign as well as city hall itself buys me admittance to this and any office that I deem necessary.”

“God you really are a Luthor,” Suzanne sneered. “Just as self-righteous as the core family. Sitting in your ivory towers looking down your nose thinking you own everything and everyone. Well I’ll have you know that in these chambers my word is final!”

“Which one was it?” Lena asked mildly taking a seat in front of the Judge’s desk and absentmindedly removing lint from her expensive winter coat.

“What?” Suzanne sputtered.

“Which one was it?” Lena repeated. “To have such a deep seated hatred of the Luthors you must have had direct contact with either Lionel, Lillian or Lex. So which one was it?” Suzanne was taken slightly by surprise at the temporary look of exhaustion and resignation that crossed the face of the young woman sitting in front of her. What could she possibly have to be tired about? I suppose ever parasites get tired.

“What makes you believe I’ve ever met any of the Luthors?” Suzanne muttered averting her eyes.

“Call it intuition. Or practice,” Lena responded. “There’s a strong distinction between people who have heard of the Luthor reputation and those unfortunate enough to have first-hand experience as to how they earned that reputation.”

“That was years ago and of no consequence now,” Suzanne began.

“So let me guess? Lilian. Possibly with a dash of Lionel thrown in,” Lena interrupted tilting her head slightly. The blush staining the judge’s cheeks all but confirmed Lena’s guess. “I’m going to say you were young. Probably had the misfortune of catching Lionel’s eye at a party. Lilian has always been a possessive and vindictive thing. She may not have wanted Lionel herself but she’d be damned if anyone else would have him. She made a sport of destroying any who was unfortunate enough to be a target of Lionel’s attention while she was present.”

“What makes you think?” Suzanne stuttered.

“Like I said, practice,” Lena replied taking a breath. “God only knows why Lilian didn’t take out her husband’s infidelity on him rather than everyone else around him. Look, for whatever it’s worth I am sorry.”

“For what?” Suzanne asked siting in shock.

“That you were a target for a miserable and vindictive couple,” Lena sighed. “Now we can sit here and you can attempt to collect on the pound of flesh you may be owed, or we can get to the business at present.”

“And if I decide that I’d rather collect what’s due to me what would you do?” Suzanne asked curiously.

“Well then Judge Ellington, you’d find that my parents were masters when it came to teaching vindictiveness and power-plays and that I have always been a diligent student,” Lena replied folding her hands in her lap.

“Parents?” Suzanne responded.

“Yes, Lionel and Lilian Luthor are my parents.” Lena answered holding the judge’s gaze.

“I knew of Lex but I never knew that they had a second child. I’ve never heard your name mentioned in the press, but then I’ve made a habit of steering clear of all things Luthor related.” Suzanne replied.

“Yes well I attended boarding school and university in the UK,” Lena supplied.

“That explains the accent,” Suzanne replied finding the younger woman’s unblinking gaze slightly unnerving.

“Look,” Lena leaned forward and sighed. “I am not my parents. I’m just a woman trying to make a life for myself outside of my family’s name. The last thing I want to do is to keep paying their dues. I am not my parents and I’m not my brother. All I ask is that you judge me on my merits, give me the same consideration you would give to a perfect stranger on the streets, nothing more nothing less. Can you do that? Or are you one of those that believes that the sins of the father should be passed down to his children?”

Suzanne sighed as she realized that she could either do what the Luthors had done to her years before and judge the young woman sitting before her for someone else’s actions or she could let the past remain in the past and move forward. She had a sneaking suspicion as well that if riled this Luthor may turn out to be a worse enemy than the other three combined.

“What can I do for you Ms. Luthor?” she asked finally.

“I came to talk you about Mikayla Dawson,” Lena replied shocking the older woman. Why was a Luthor interested in an orphan?

“I had no idea Mikayla had a connection to your family,” Suzanne responded.

“She doesn’t,” Lena answered. “At least not yet. Were you aware that after your ruling yesterday that Mikayla was taken to the National City Group Home for Girls?”

“I didn’t know,” Suzanne sighed heavily. “But I suspected she would be at this time of year. God I wished I could’ve locked up her dad’s cousin and his brat of a wife for that they did.” Suzanne will forever regret the choice she was forced to make yesterday; no child should be without a family at the holidays.

“Karma will set those scales right eventually. But don’t worry if it takes too long I’m not above lending a helping hand,” Lena responded softly sending a shiver down Suzanne’s spine. Definitely not an enemy one wanted to make Suzanne thought. “My concern right now however is with Mikayla not her disgrace of a cousin.”

“May I ask why you are so concerned with a child you say you have no connection to?” Suzanne inquired.

“Because I was three years younger that Mikayla when my world crumbled around me. After my mom died and I was sent to the Luthors getting almost immediately shipped to boarding school was the last thing I needed,” Lena replied without changing expression. Her face was so devoid of emotion she might as well be talking about the weather.

“You’re adopted?” Suzanne asked in surprise for the umpteenth time that morning.

“Yes,” came the simple response.

“How can I help?” Suzanne asked immediately making up her mind to help in whatever way she could. She was rewarded with Lena’s first smile of the day. Seems the apple fell very far from the tree Suzanne thought listening to Lena’s proposal.

A long time after she glanced down at her watch and was surprised to see that it was almost 11AM.

“Usually she’s very conscientious about answering her cell phone,” Suzanne replied in frustration.

“It is the holidays after all,” Lena mused. “She may want some time with her family. She may even be out of town.”

“Not Kara Danvers,” Suzanne shook her head. “Kara is from a rare breed of social workers who actually loves the work she does. She goes above and beyond for all the children in her care. She’d never go out of town with Mikayla in a group home. Even if it’s so she could visit with her for a few hours so she’s not alone with strangers on Christmas.”

“Sounds like she’s in the perfect job,” Lena replied. “How do you know so much about her? Is she a friend of yours?”

“No, but yesterday I noticed how invested she was in Mikayla’s case so I made some calls,” Suzanne blushed. “Based on what I heard she invests 110% of herself into all her charges. Even checks up on them after they’ve been released from her care.”

“Sounds like she’s not the only one who takes an interest in her cases outside of what is expected,” Lena replied with another arch of her eyebrow.

“Yes well,” Suzanne cleared her throat without continuing.  “Based on what I’ve gathered her and her lawyer friend with the unfortunate name are quite the team. They do everything within their power and sometimes outside of their power to ensure that each child in their care gets a happy and loving home. The system could use more like them.”

“I’m happy to hear that Mikayla had them in her corner for the last three months,” Lena says standing and shrugging into her jacket.

“If you give me another hour I’m sure I can find someone who can locate another contact number for her,’ Suzanne offers.

“No need,” Lena replied. When Suzanne continued to look at her curiously Lena smiled mildly. “One thing you should know about me Judge Ellington; I never attempt an acquisition without first doing extensive research. I’m sure I’ll speak to Ms. Danvers before the day is out.” Shaking her hand and watching her leave Suzanne was just as sure that Kara Danvers was destined for a face to face with one Ms. Lena Luthor before the day was out.

“Ms. Tessmacher,” Lena greets her personal assistant when she answers her call. “Are you in the office as yet?”

“No Ms. Luthor,” Eve stutters. “You told me last night that we would begin at noon and it’s just past eleven so I just left out. I’m so sorry I can be there in ten minutes.”

“Well that would be a Christmas miracle considering your file shows that you live across town,” Lena replied. “Relax Ms. Tessmacher I do remember I told you we’d be getting a late start. That’s not why I called. Can you do me a favour?”

“Of course Ms. Luthor.” Eve replied confused. “How may I help?”

“I need you to stop at a department store and pick up a car-seat.” Lena answered.

“A car-seat?” Eve asked even more confused.

“Yes Ms. Tessmacher, a car-seat for a seven-year-old little girl,” Lena answered. “Let me know once you have it and your location and I will come and collect it and give you a lift to work.”

“Yes Ms. Luthor,” Eve replied no less confused that she was before. She is even more confused when her employer picks her up an hour later in a silver Toyota Prius.

“Surprised are we Ms. Tessmacher?” Lena asked amused.

“No Ms. Luthor,” Eve begins before noticing Lena’s raised eyebrow. “Well yes. You’re a billionaire why do you drive a Prius?”

“Because it’s unexpected,” Lena laughs. “Like you, no-one expects me to be driving a Prius. You’d be surprised how many times I’ve driven pass the paparazzi waiting for me without them batting an eye. When you do the unexpected you can get away with almost anything.”

“So basically, you’re hiding in plain sight,” Eve replied.

“A Luthor never hides Ms. Tessmacher, but yes.” Lena grins at her gaping secretary. Eve is starting wonder if her boss was feeling okay. In the six months that she’s been her personal assistant this is the most they have spoken about any topic that was not directly work related. Her thoughts are interrupted when Lena asks to make a short detour before heading to work.

“Of course Ms. Luthor,” Eve murmurs. She is given a further shock when they pull into a complex with a large dilapidated sign that reads “Welcome to National City Group Home for Girls”.

“This should not take long,” Lena states.

[takemedancingmaine]

38

I'm slipping off my trainers at the front door when Piper steps out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel, another wrapped around her hair on her head.

“You ran?” She asks, stopping short at the sight of me. I stretch an arm across my chest and nod before I pull the milk from the fridge to pour a glass. Her tone is curious without there being any sense of her trying to pry.

It's odd that even though I just ran 8k I still feel lethargic in my movements and brain function. “Not long,” I shrug, my shoulders feeling heavy. “Not my best.” Not by a long shot.

“You still went,” she encourages me. Again, I nod as I stretch my other arm, trying to loosen my upper body after the tension it experienced the past two days. “Can you turn the kettle on?” She begins to move toward her room.

Instead of answering I reach over to the kettle and make sure there's enough water in it before turning it on. She calls a “thanks” over her shoulder as she slips into her room to get dressed.

I need to cool down more before I can shower, so I start pulling out ingredients for oatmeal when my personal mobile rings from its place on the coffee table.

I finally got the courage to look at it last night just before Jack left. I didn't read anything or listen to the messages from Liam or Jack, just deleted those because they both eventually got their answers. I just cleaned out the notifications and then placed it back down on the table until now.

It's Liam.

“Open the bloody door.”

No ‘hello’, no ‘hi, I'm on my way,’ none of that. It's Liam though, so I can't be expecting too much, really.

I frown in confusion but head over to my call box anyway and hit the buzzer.

“Thank you,” he says and then the connection is lost. Not ten seconds later though, my brother is striding through my front door, all tall, lanky Liam and his concerned big brother face he's trying so hard not to make obvious.

He doesn't care that I'm sweaty, he immediately walks up to me and pulls me into a hug. It reminds me of when we were kids and I was scared of thunder and Liam would build a blanket fort with me under the dining table and sometimes just comfort me with a big hug. It reminds me of when I failed my first big uni exam and Liam just wrapped me up in a giant hug and then took me for gelato. And it reminds me of when four months ago our roles were reversed and I hugged my brother with such intensity it felt like I was the only thing holding him together, in one piece.

It feels like he's trying to do the same thing for me right now.

“I'm sorry I'm a shit brother,” he whispers into my hair.

I shake my head as much as I can within the embrace. “No. This was me.”

“Wren-”

“I'm serious,” I hold him tight. “This was all me. I let it get this bad. I need to take responsibility so it won't happen like this again.”

“That's not how it works and you know it.”

“I know,” I sigh.

“Good try though,” he teases. “That sort of cadence and that initial conviction would go far in a courtroom.”

“You came over here just to lecture her on how to be a good lawyer?” Piper says in disdain as Liam gives me a final, tight squeeze and lets me go. He does keep one arm around me though.

“I can't help it,” Liam defends himself as he gives Piper a one-armed hug with his free appendage. “It's just who I am.”

“My god, I don't know how no one has punched you in the face yet,” Piper frees herself from him and begins to make herself tea.

“It's not like no one’s tried,” Liam shrugs. “Are you going in today?” He asks her as he takes in her appearance. “I thought Sunday's were your off day unless there was a showing.”

“I wasn't going to,” she admits and I feel guilt rise within me. She skipped yesterday. “But Wren is okay. She won't be sitting here all day, moping.”

“She won't be?” He glances down at me, curious.

“She won't be,” I say for myself now. The guilt over keeping Piper home yesterday is there, but I need to remind myself that she wanted to. She chose to. I didn't make her. And I feel that I owe her for it, but I don't need to feel guilty for it.

“You've got plans?” He asks.

I nod.

“With Jack?” He is giving me a look, a pointed look, and I know because I can feel it. I don't see it though because I refuse to look.

I nod again and make to break from his embrace to start making my breakfast, but he holds me to him.

“Are you up for that?” His concern right now is not regarding me and the guy I'm seeing, his concern is regarding my mental well-being and whether I'll be okay spending the day with someone. For me, seeing the difference in his concern is easy.

“I'm okay,” I nod once more. “I'll be okay,” I lean into him and give him a squeeze.

“Will you tell me anything about him?” He asks. The concern shifts on its head. One second it's about my mental health the next it's about the fact that I'm seeing a boy. Brothers are ridiculous.

“He's Scottish,” I shrug and slip out of the embrace to start making breakfast. I'd been careful not to overstuff my stomach yesterday and after almost two days of practically fasting. I am understandably hungry after my run this morning.

“Wren,” Liam sighs as he watches me start heating milk for my oatmeal.

“Mm?” I ask.

Beside me at the kettle Piper snorts as she looks between me and my brother.

“Seriously, when am I going to get information about this bloke? He's seeing my sister and all I've got is a name. Just a first name.” He turns to Piper. “I bet you’ve met him, haven't you?”

Piper nods and answers in an even tone, barely glancing up at Liam. “Twice.”

“Wren!”

“What?” I ask as if I'm baffled why he'd be upset with me. I know my tone and aloofness is only going to rile him up further.

Liam huffs in annoyance. It worked.

“Why can't I meet him?”

“You will,” I shrug. I don't mention the fact that Liam has met Jack more than twice. But, to be fair, he has.

“You know…” he shakes his head and sighs. “I really want to start with you, and you deserve me to, but I know you're not back yet. Come Friday dinner though? I'm going to hound you for every detail there could be.”

I just stare at him. I don't doubt his threat for a second.

“Okay,” I say eventually after a few minutes of silence. “D’you want some breakfast? Have you eaten?” I'm stirring in the oatmeal as it heats on the stovetop and as is typical for me I've made way too much.

Liam pops a blueberry into his mouth, greedy hands reaching into the container on the counter, and nods. “Sure, thanks.”

“Where's my nephew?” I ask after divvying up our portions.

“Charlie is fine,” he says, giving me a look. He knows I was jokingly suggesting him being a horrible parent. “He’s with a mate from school until later this afternoon.”

He grabs a bowl and jumps up to sit on the counter. I grab us each a spoon and jump up beside him, Piper rolls her eyes at us before she grabs her brew and takes a sip. She never understood my sitting on the counter until she saw Liam do it. Then she connected it.

She jumps up onto the last bit of free space, caddy-corner from me, our knees touching. I got her to do it our third year of uni. She's been doing it begrudgingly ever since.

“How’ve the two of you been?” I ask. A fortnight out from Charlie’s meltdown and I'm curious. Jack was paying attention to Charlie all week, just as he had done the week before, but with my down days, I hadn't gotten a chance to ask him about it.

Liam shrugs. “It was almost like he was afraid of me for a week or so like he didn't say much and was almost too polite. He didn't start anything with me, not at lunch not at dinner, not when we were almost late to school. Nothing,” he shrugs.

“Can I document this?” Piper asks, a smirk sliding onto her features. “Liam complaining about his son being too polite.”

I snort and Liam just gives her a look that says he's so done with her. He's not. He’s been stuck with her since she and I became friends. He respects her and is fiercely protective of her just like he is of me. He does resent that I've given him another smart mouth to have to endure though.

“It felt like my son was scared of me and that was the worst feeling in the world,” he says. “He's been a bit more like himself recently though.”

“I'm glad,” I give a supportive nudge with my shoulder. “I'm sure he’ll be fine,” I add. “He's just now realizing what happened though and that might take a bit to process, especially because it's so far out from when it happened.”

“Melissa?” He asks, giving me a curious glance.

“Wren,” I give him a serious look and point to myself. “I’m your sister, Liam.” Piper snorts again.

“You are so annoying,” my brother groans.

“O’course I am,” I smile back up at him and lean my head against him for a moment before moving to eat my breakfast.

“I did have a question for you, actually,” he nudges me with his elbow.

I swallow my bite of food and look up at him. “What?”

“How bad was it?”

“It was far from my worst,” I tell him truthfully. “And I have an appointment Thursday where I can hash it out,” I add.

“Piper?” His gaze leaves mine as looks over at her to confirm what I've told him.

“It really wasn't all that bad, Li,” she nods. “She even ate a bit throughout the day yesterday and she did her run this morning.”

“Was it anything in particular?”

Guilt. I can hear it, almost feel it as it wraps around his tone.

“Not that I've been able to tell,” I tell him. “I think it was just me being tired that pushed me to it. I'm fine at work and I'm happy in my life outside of work as well. I really just think I was tired and that strained me.”

“How much sleep were you getting?” He asks.

“Well, I’d still been getting up at the time I used to before I started with the broadcast team. So I was going to bed later and still waking up just as early. I guess it finally caught up with me.”

“And you're going to fix that?” He doesn't ask it like a question, but the query is implied.

“No, I thought I'd quite like to go through this again. Ya know, really experiment and see how long I can hold out between breakdowns. A month? Three weeks? Trial and error to get the perfect amount of exhaustion to push me over the ledge,” I shrug and remark casually.

“You're such a dick,” he elbows me none too gently and gives a big dramatic sigh.

“Love you too, big bruv,” I give him a wide smile before poking his cheek and then shoulder. I keep poking his shoulder.

“Oi,” he shrugs me off. “Christ. I love you. Now, will you fuck off so I can eat?”

39

I'm in my comfiest knit sweater and my oldest, most worn pair of jeans. The denim worked to a point it's soft against my legs. I've got a knit cap on over my hair that's doing wonders to keep me warm as fall and the chill really settle over London in full force.

It is almost November.

It'll hit midweek and then I'll be able to listen to Christmas tunes without anyone giving me shit for it. I can feel the air in a way I couldn't before. It's no longer weighed down with humidity and instead just encases me in a crisp and light feeling. The last of the leaves still on the trees are turning too, and a calm comfort settles over the city as the summer tourists leave and there's a small reprieve.

I think a lot about autumn, and often reflect on it in a metaphorical state. Fall can show us just how beautiful it is to let things go. I'm not sure what it is yet that I have to let go in this particular fall, but I know there's probably more than one thing.

I once read something about how October is about trees revealing colours they've hidden all year. As I walk with the flow of people on the sidewalk I can't help but think people have an October as well, within them just waiting for something to bring it out.

I think of Liam and Charlie and how a song brought out something they'd been avoiding for four months. I think of myself and how Jack has brought something in me out, as well. I think of Piper and how I've seen her so invested in her art recently. I feel so guilty for keeping her home yesterday because she's really thrown herself into her work these past few weeks. I wonder what brought it out in her.

Shoving my hands in my pockets when a particularly cold breeze hits me, I duck my head down and pick up my pace. The clouds in the sky not filled with any threat of rain as I shuffle along.

There are leaves crunching under my feet as I manoeuvre toward his front steps. I shift my bag and hit the buzzer.

“It's Wren,” I say, my voice whipped away by a gust of wind, but somehow he hears me.

“C’mon up,” The buzzing starts and I step inside, closing the door behind me and heading up the stairs.

I notice for a second time today that although I'm up and mobile today, my movements are sluggish and my limbs still feel heavy. It takes me twice as long as it usually would to climb two flights of stairs and I feel physically exhausted having done so.

I think of Liam's concern this morning when he was asking if I was up for plans today, and bite my bottom lip as I try to shake them off. Maybe I'm not, maybe this was a bad idea, but I'm here anyway.

His front door is unlocked, but I give a light knock as I enter. There's music playing softly from somewhere, the back of my mind recognizing it as Fleetwood Mac while I just look around the room. I close the door gently behind myself and place my bag by the door, pushing my hat off and placing it on top of my things.

He emerges from what I assume is his bedroom wearing a grey t-shirt and a pair of dark jeans. I run through my brain to try and remember ever having seen him in anything other than nice trousers or black jeans and am coming up empty.

“Hi,” I look up at him, pulling my sweater sleeves down over my palms and biting my bottom lip.

His hair is still wet from his shower as he gives me a soft look and comes up to me, one hand coming to rest on the small of my back, the other coming up to brush some of my hair from my face.

He's walking a fine line between treating me like I'm fragile and also being respectful of my incredibly raw emotional state. He's balancing quite well, though I wouldn't be surprised if he fell once or twice.

“Hi,” he says back quietly and kisses my forehead. A warm feeling seeps into my whole being.

“My brother wants to meet you,” I spill out quickly.

“Good morning to you too,” he chuckles and pulls back a bit.

I just blink at him. I give him the potentially horrifying news and that's how he responds.

“Also,” he winks and kisses my cheek, “technically I've already met your brother. Many times.”

I groan and roll my eyes. “I don't know if that makes it better or worse.”

“When are we introducing me formally then?” Jack takes a step back and starts toward his kitchen. He runs a hand through his hair.

“He and I do dinner together every Friday,” I turn to follow him. I made the decision to invite him while on the walk between the tube and his front door.

He flips on the kettle and grabs two mugs for us. My head tilts down toward the floor and my eyes latch onto my hands that are wringing together. “He's already planning on interrogating me about you then as it is.”

“I'd be happy to join,” he says and I feel him brush a hand against my shoulder, trying to get me to look up. “He's not going to try and poison me, is he?”

I give a small smile and shake my head. “No,” I look up at him finally. “No, and Charlie is always asleep by then, so that won't be something for you to worry about either.”

His blue eyes flash as he pulls me close, one arm wrapped around my waist and the other pinning me against the counter behind me.

“Tell me something I don't know yet,” he says imploringly.

I take a deep breath, pausing to think of something. “I’m deathly afraid of insects,” I tell him.

“Really?” He asks.

I nod.

“All insects?” He gives me a look of disbelief.

“No,” I shrug. “You know the kinds you hear stories about though, the ones in the Amazon rainforest that can live under your skin or climb in your ears and drive you mad with the sounds?”

“You have much personal experience with those?” He asks.

I roll my eyes. “No, but that's probably because I'm so cautious.”

“Fair point,” he concedes, amusement colouring his tone and his expression. “What else don't I know?”

“I like cold weather. I like fall with the cold air and I love sweaters and fires and hot tea on cold mornings,” I list off. “I also really like old rock music and indie movies and for the past eight years I've gone to therapy.”

“I guess I made a good choice then with Fleetwood Mac,” he smiles and if I strain my ears I can hear the music coming from the other room. “And I've been to therapy too,” he says quickly.

“What?”

“Yeah,” he nods. “Lily went through something a few years back and I'd go with her to her sessions and I ended up going to a few myself. I think everyone could use therapy now and again.”

I let that sink in for a moment. Everyone should go to therapy. Whether they're mentally ill or not. Therapy is a tool, not just for the broken, that helps one understand themselves and their situations better. Whether it's a hard time or a good time, therapy and the tactics learned there are helpful to all.

The fact that Jack said that makes me feel particularly safe. He doesn't see my going to therapy as a misfortune or see it in a negative light. He sees it as something anyone should do if they want to be better. That comfort settles all over my body as our eyes just hold each other.

So I lean up a bit and kiss him, delicately at first and then he reacts as I bring my arms up around his neck. He’s kissing me back with a fervour and I feel hot all over, my skin on fire as he pulls me flush against his long, lean body.

I feel drunk. Not really drunk, not like everything is blurry and detached from me. It’s more like that bouncy, floaty feeling you get when you've had two pints and you're all lightheaded and giddy. That's how I feel. That and then there’s the fire. I'm floating and burning up with the feel of him as his hands roam my back, down my sides, his fingertips lifting up my sweater a bit and skirting along the skin of my waist sending small shocks through me.

I feel him shift and he grabs my waist in both hands and lifts me up onto the counter. I let out a little huff of air in surprise and feel him smiling against my lips as we continue to make out.

He pulls me to the edge of the counter and steps in between my legs, one of his hands getting tangled in my hair as the other squeezes my hip, still brushing against my skin where my sweater has ridden up.

He moves from my lips and begins trailing his down my neck and I use the opportunity to breathe and trail my fingers through his soft, still damp hair. He hums and now that my skin feels all tingly where his mouth has been, he brings his lips back up to mine and slows the pace. Fervour turns into a lingering, and that daydream feeling starts to take over as the fire fades.

He pulls away and kisses my nose, my forehead before biting his lip and looking at me through his lashes.

I run a hand through my hair and sort out a few of the tangles and just try to calm my breathing.

“I thought for sure after seeing me yesterday you'd be done with me.” My voice is only a whisper.

I watch as his eyebrows crease and his eyes search my face. “Do you really think so little of me?”

“No,” I shake my head. “No, that's… no.” I pause and take a breath. “I just… I know that it's a lot, that I'm a lot.”

“You are a lot,” his face is still crinkled in confusion. “You're brilliant and funny and you've got a knack for reporting that tells me it's what you're meant to be doing. You're probably the kindest person I've ever met, despite your disdain for cyclists,” I laugh and so does he before he continues on. “Your loyalty to Piper and your brother is second to none, and the love that you give them is palpable, tangible in the air when you're around them.”

He lifts a hand and pushes some of my hair back off my face, behind my ear. “Most of all though, you’re someone who makes me feel like I've never felt before. I don't know if it's because you challenge my intelligence daily or because you're always looking for a way to surprise me with something. Whether it's that you like the same old bands that I do, or it's that you make the best apple scones I've ever had, I find myself always wanting to know more.”

I don't have the energy to cry. I'm actually physically all cried out. I do feel myself blush this violent shade of red though. A blush that starts in my cheeks and extends all the way down my neck and chest.

“Would you believe that I've never felt this way about someone either?” I ask, my voice only a whisper.

He just blushes and smiles.

“You're special, Lowden,” I tell him.

“You are too, Kearney,” his smile turns to a smirk when he uses my last name. I just blush and bite my bottom lip before he leans forward and kisses me, delicately, but with enough intention behind it.

I smile into the kiss and reach for one of his hands, lancing my fingers together with his.

“You should probably start preparing me for you brother,” he says as he rests his forehead against mine. “If he's as bad as you say I'll probably need as much guidance as I can get.”

I groan. I know he's only teasing, but I just keep thinking of Liam with his courtroom eyes and tone and when I think of those focused on Jack I already want to squirm.

“How about you just be you and in the meantime, we bake the last of your apples into scones and then head out to my favourite place?”

He sighs deeply before, “Alright, deal.”

40

“How’re we up here?” He asks as he spins around in a circle, getting the full 360 views.

“I once swiped Liam’s keycard from his briefcase and never saw fit to give it back,” I shrug. “I think he just assumed he lost it somewhere.”

“And it still works?” He says, looking out, not at me.

“It does.”

I wrap my arms around myself as I do my own spin around to try and see everything. It's beautiful up here. I can't even so much of London, we’re only just over forty stories up. It's seeing a bit of it from up above, from the top of Liam’s office building, though, that gives a renewed or an entirely new perspective.

“How'd you find this place?” He asks now.

“I found it when I was looking for Liam,” I say and sit down on one of the metal rooftop structures. “It was just over a week after April’s funeral and no one could find him. I remembered in uni he used to climb onto the roof of his housing unit and later the roof of his apartment building… I followed a hunch and found him here.”

I feel Jack sit next to me as I look out across the city, the grey sky a calm backdrop to the London I've come to love and know is bustling with life far below.

“He was trying to gain perspective?”

I take a deep breath and hold it before slowly letting it out with a short nod. “I know that sometimes he still finds his way up here, but mostly I've kind of stolen it as my own sanctuary.”

“This is pretty unbelievable,” the awe is present in his tone.

I'm quiet as I look out, just taking slow deep breaths and listening for everything. I feel like Superman when he's floating above the Earth, focused tuned out so that he hears everything going on below. I can just process it all, internal and external, without focusing too much on any one voice or sound that floats my direction.

Jack, for his part, is quiet beside me as I just take it in. After a few minutes though he speaks up.

“How often do you find yourself up here?” He asks.

I know what he's really asking. ‘How often am I as low as I was these past three days?’ I take a deep breath.

I'm really not that bad often. And it hasn't been for a while. Some may say that there's something new in my life that's made me this bad, namely Jack, but I know it's not him. I know it's not Jack’s fault.

There's something about fall that is controversial with me. I’m enamoured by the colours and the crisp air and the activities. I love what it represents, as well: shedding layers and revealing truths, and so much creativity in it all.

The problem with fall is that people with depression often can't help it, they just get sad during winter. I have had both my lowest and interestingly enough my highest moments throughout the fall and winter seasons.

There's so much warmth throughout the season but also so much darkness and to someone with depression, the warmth is intoxicating so much so that we don't notice our own downward spiral.

I truly believe what I'd told Liam this morning: it's because I was exhausting myself and my emotions slipped as a result. I'm sure there are small things, feeling incompetent at work--which has become less common but still sometimes slips in--and not seeing Piper as much now that I'm working later, and I'm sure my worry for Liam isn't helping, but I don't blame him for it.

I don't blame anyone. It's just the cycle of my life. Everyone has highs and lows, and my highs and lows are much more extreme. I try to regulate the lows so they're not so debilitating and remember the feeling of the highs so that I have the good to swaddle myself with. It's a continual effort though, and sometimes I slip.

Not often, but I do. And certainly not as often as I used to.

“I've only been here a few times,” I tell him. “Just once not long after I found this place when I had a bad day at work when I couldn't find my perspective. And then again about a month ago I had a moment when I was just feeling overwhelmed by Liam and Charlie and my own life. I just come up here to think about my place, about where I am.”

Jack nods and I lean my head against his shoulder. The sky is still dark grey and the air is still crisp and cool as it whips around us, colder and sharper up here than it is on the streets below.

“I'm not going to tell you that the past few days are unheard of,” I start, looking out as the sky meets the buildings. “I will tell you though that they're uncommon.”

He wraps an arm around me. “Uncommon?”

“I've been getting better and better at managing myself, and within the past two years that's my second,” his scent surrounds and comforts me when I take a deep breath.

“Sometimes I don't notice small skips though, or I do and I ignore them and think they're not big and then I end up here… Or,” I shrug, “or I just make something little into a big thing and drown under it. In uni, it could be exams or essays or a bad mark if it was on something I knew I could've done better on. Now it can be little things like deadlines or disappointing Liam.”

He rubs his hand up and down my arm as I lean my face into his chest for a moment and then look back out before us.

“It's strange, really,” he says. “I so enjoy the way your mind works. You're brilliant and funny and kind…” he gives me a squeeze. “You have made little things in my life more exciting… cooking and baking, board games, running even. But,” I hear him swallow, “I also now know that that mind I enjoy battling wits with and talking to about work and family and just life, in general, is something that can do this to you.”

I know from experience that taking both sides is a struggle.

“It makes me sad, but not for myself,” he sighs. “It makes me sad that someone as spectacular as yourself feels like this, even if it is uncommon.”

“Life is a constant contrast of good versus bad,” I tell him. “Life is finding the balance and enjoying everything regardless of personal battles and I'd like to think I'm pretty good at maintaining that balance and appreciating the good despite the bad. Setbacks don't make me any less good, I can only learn from them.”

“I'm in awe of your mind,” he says. “Your resilience is admirable.”

I smile a real smile that releases some tension within me. “I'm nothing if not persistent in my efforts to keep moving forward.”

We end up sitting in silence until the cold and wind become unbearable before we make our way back to Jack’s flat where we order Thai takeaway and play card games until I notice the time. I’m trying to get to bed early tonight to gather as much energy as I can for tomorrow. That, and I’m practising sleeping in a bit on weekdays now that I can. The balance between sleeping in and running will be a fun one to sort out.  

It's not until I'm slipping on my knit cap to leave that I think to ask. “It’s not for three weeks, so I know I’m being preemptive with this, but every year in November a whole lot of us gather at Liam’s house for what we call Friendsgiving and I’d like to invite you.”

Jack looks up from where he’s storing the cards and gives an amused expression. “You do know we’re British, right?”

I scrunch my face. “I started it with Piper and our flatmates back in our uni days and now it’s a thing that Liam, Piper, and I do together. Liam invites a few of his mates and Piper and I invite anyone who’s still in the area after Uni and whoever Piper is seeing at the time. We do it as a celebration of how lucky we are to have people willing to partake in a ridiculously American tradition with us.”

Jack makes his way over to me with a few strides and looks down at me with a crinkle between his eyebrows.

“I s’pose if I’m meeting your brother this week then that’ll be fine with him?” he asks. I nod, it’s fine with me. Liam will get fine with it. “Then I’d love to join,” he smiles.

“Okay,” I nod. I’m hypnotised by his blue eyes, they’re unbelievably blue. I’m pretty sure not even the ocean is that blue. I think the ocean might be jealous of this blue.

“Okay,” he says back. His eyes flash and I feel one hand on my waist and another slipping over my cheek as he leans down and kisses me gently.

I feel myself melt in his grasp before he pulls back.

“Friday?” he asks.

“I’ll see you Friday,” I nod, and slip from his hold. He holds open the door for me and with a look back over my shoulder as I descend the stairs, I make my way back down to street and back to face the reality of work tomorrow.

[an-evolutionary]

dear dog lovers

I went to work back at the candle shop today. I'd decided to take on a few hours per week again, to make some more money to help pay my insurance premiums.

the shop is in a new location with a main floor and a basement. my boss, the business owner, is a dog owner and a dog lover, and she regularly, pretty much daily, brings her dog mooki to work with her. mooki is a border collie mix, friendly, quiet, affectionate, calm. my boss's best friend also has a dog, a little black terrier named lulu. lulu is nervous, protective, easily startled, aggressive. my boss brings both lulu and mooki to work (they keep each other company) and they stay in the basement by her desk with some breaks out in the backyard. my boss is a long time dog lover, and both mooki and lulu are like a part of her family along with lulu's owner.

since my last visit in november, I'd forgotten this fact about the dogs typically being on the new premises. mooki has never frightened me, is easygoing, and even has shown me affection, but every single time I've met lulu (lulu's owner used to come by the old shop often, with lulu unleashed) the terrier has reacted negatively to me, growling and snarling and yapping and lowering herself aggressively. this is even without cause. every time I "re-meet" her, I try again to start fresh, act calm, don't move threateningly, etc. but to no avail - she just Really Doesnt Like me. today was no exception.

I get scared of dogs extremely easily. I can handle gentler breeds like golden retrievers and border collies, but most dogs genuinely frighten me. and I don't mean a hesitant resolvable shyness -- I mean a full blast heart literally pounding, ready to scream, sprint or freeze kind of adrenaline fear response. dogs just barking from behind fences give me this reaction, and I get incredibly incredibly tense when I have to pass dogs on the sidewalk or be around them in a park, doubly so if the animals are unleashed. i'm always very unnerved meeting dogs of friends or family unless they're one of the above two breeds, and even then I stay cautious even if a dog does seem to get used to me. I never realised until recently the extent to which I try to keep these fears hidden when I'm around loved ones who have animals. a couple good friends of mine are dog lovers, and I always felt that my tentativeness around their dogs has always seemed to come across as puzzling if not pathetic, though they might not say as much.

when I was very little my cousin's dog, a female pit bull (pit bull mix I think?) named murphy, would bark and yelp incessantly in my face whenever we visited. and I mean I was properly *little* as in the dog was way bigger than me; a fierce looking dog barking full volume in your face when you've grown up in a family with zero four legged pets is no easily forgettable early experience. once when I surprised murphy after a nap, she bit my forearm. my neighbor also had a dog (I forget what breed) that was extremely aggressive and territorial -- they would let it run around their yard and the street unleashed, and if I got too close to the yard it would run toward me, I would freak out and turn away, and it would chase me down the street til I cried.

I know that dogs can sense fear, and I do honestly know all the things one *should* do when faced with an unfamiliar or aggressive/nervous dog, but as soon as i'm in actual situations with dogs, especially if they're already running or barking, my intellectual grasp of those things goes completely out the window. I revert to being the terrified 4 year old who got bit in the arm and who eventually stopped being friends with the neighbor because she was too afraid to ring the doorbell and get a barking dog barrelling down the front hallway.

fast forward to today: lulu put up with me fairly enough whenever my boss or manager were in the same space with me. however as soon as I was ever alone near lulu - coming out from a workroom where I had been filling orders, or moving to go up or down the stairs to switch tasks - out came the bared teeth and the growls and the aggressive posture, with no initial provocation on my part besides my walking through the room. my manager noticed it once and ordered lulu to back off, but later, after lulu growled at me for about 2 minutes when I was trying to go up the stairs past where she was sitting, I literally half-ran around the corner, barricaded myself in the workroom, and braced up my courage for 10 min in order to use my cell phone to call the business phone upstairs, to ask my boss to let me upstairs past lulu. of course once my boss opened the stairwell door, lulu was reactionless and let me pass, and my boss promptly laughed it off, seemed not to believe me really, and said I was letting lulu get away with making me scared.

I didn't realise how much all this affected me until I got inside my front door this evening, sat down on my couch and promptly cried and physically trembled for a good hour. I'd pent up THAT much fear and anxiety and hyper awareness from having this dog in my work space. four hours later and I am genuinely still trying to get my heart rate back to normal.

honestly the dog situation alone would have been enough, but looking back I think it was my boss's and manager's assumptions and reactions to it all that really did me in. the way in which they didn't take my fear seriously, and never asked if I was ok or whether I had any history with dogs or if they could change anything about the working arrangement. the assumption was that because mooki and I got along fine, lulu's aggression must just be a fluke or entirely my fault. if someone's afraid of dogs, it must be fear of every dog, right? if i'm that comfortable with mooki, my nervousness around lulu can't be that bad. and if lulu behaves negatively, it's automatically my fault.

so I hid my very real fear, even gulping back tears while I stocked shelves, because I felt like a stupid animal hater wimp who couldn't handle a little moody terrier.

I never realised before today, how much it bothers me when people assume that their dog friendly spaces are environments in which everyone else is also comfortable. I am not used to animals, I'm not obligated to become accustomed to other people's pet animals in my workplace if they make me uncomfortable, and people's nervousness around pets is something I wish pet owners would take more seriously, dog owners especially. yes I know that I can learn to be better around animals through exposure, but to make that work then actually *I*need to be the one to decide when I will interact with animals i'm wary of, and it should be with the help of an individual specialized in animal-human socialization, not courtesy of my boss laugh-shaming me for 'riling' her friend's dog at work. I refuse to spend workdays in fear because cantankerous lulu won't let me go upstairs to go pee.

going to try to screw up some more courage tomorrow and somehow write a polite email to my boss requesting that she arrange for lulu to spend the day elsewhere whenever I go to work there. I'm sticking to my convictions on this. if they think I'm being ridiculous, I'd like to trade places with them so they can comprehend how unnerved my body is after today. if she won't take this seriously then I won't work there.

fear of dogs is not a joke, people. it's really really not.