#i got a message from someone saying ‘YoUrE sO hOt’ and then some bargaining offer

[baileyboo2016]

my god i had to delete that freakin thing

[hey-august]

I'll Be Your Whatever - Chapter 1

Description: Life is full of all sorts of characters - some who come and go, and others that stay. After propelling yourself into a lie you can't (won't) take back, a certain pirate captain may have a reason to come by more often. (Chapter 2)

Word count: 1.8k

Warnings: SFW, some profanity. Buggy x afab!reader. No use of Y/N.

A/N: I've been so excited to write this story using one of my favorite relationship tropes. For now, I expect this to stay SFW. There might be a little angst and spice in the future, but nothing Rated R. I'll update the warnings if that ever changes.

The title comes from "your whatever" by lovelytheband.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

As a port town enroute to other, more popular, destinations, there was never a lack of variety with the visiting travelers and explorers. Sailors, merchants, pirates, voyagers, and more made up the guests who patronized the town. They stopped to make repairs and keel hulls, purchase supplies, and plot courses. Most ships only stayed for a day or two. Others wanted a longer reprieve before moving on to busier, dramatic adventures. 

Despite living in a town with more assortment than the corner candy shop, it was the locals that made you grit your teeth on a daily basis. You could put up with unapologetic rudeness, aggressive flirting, unnecessary bargaining, and other sour, temporary distastes. This type of behavior was expected from visiting seafarers, but you found it less excusable from those you saw every day of your life.

So when you noticed the two locals who you found particularly unsavory, you considered hiding in the shop you just vacated. Despite years of brushing off their advances and refusing to drop a crumb of attention that’s nothing more than polite, Reeves and Bolsti were stuck on you like butter on toast. Before you could take shelter in the shop, they caught up and were thickly spreading the compliments and attention.

“Hey lovely, I thought the sun was blinding today, but it’s actually your beauty.” 

“I think there’s something wrong with my eyes…I can’t take them off of you.”

“Are you tired from running through my mind all day?

“Your hands are too beautiful to be carrying those shopping bags, why don’t you let me take care of them for you?”

Blinking away the expressionless glaze coating your eyes, you gave the men a tightlipped smile and shook your head. You explained that you still had stops to make and couldn't stay.

“You make me wanna follow my dreams,” Bolsti said with a wistful sigh. He hooked arms with you and continued, “So, where am I following you?”

A pit caught in your throat, hot and heavy. The words burning you inside weren’t worth the resulting ripple effect. Gossip and rumors move through town like fire and you wouldn’t be able to tamper the words threatening to burst out. Swallowing the impulse, you extracted your arm and stepped away. 

“I really do have to go-”

Reeves interrupted and offered to keep you company, which you swiftly declined.

“There are a lot of pirates around today and you can’t be too safe. I’m sure your dad-” The rest of Bolsti’s remark died under the hard look you sent his way.  Shuffling his feet, he continued with a mumbled, “we just want you to be safe.”

“I’ll be fine. The pirates aren’t the worst ones around here,” you said, hoping they got the message. Their rolling eyes said the message was delivered and ignored.

“Please, we’re better than those disgusting thieves. Just give me - I mean, one of us - a chance. We know you’re not seeing anyone.” Reeves stepped closer and flashed what he thought was a charismatic smile. There were poppy seeds in his teeth.

“I am seeing someone.” The words came from your mouth but you didn’t remember saying them. Shit. 

It was obvious neither of them believed you. They were arming themselves with follow-up questions that would only sink you deeper. You had to get out of this situation. You excused yourself, yet again, and moved to sidestep the duo. Bolsti reached out and you pulled your arm back, away from his grasp and into the stomach of someone behind you. Hands on your shoulder and the offending elbow prevented you from delivering another accidental blow.

“Fuck, watch what you’re doing,” said a winded voice. You felt annoyance in the words and in the hold on your body, but not danger.

Reeves eyed the hands on your body with anger and jealousy. You didn’t look uncomfortable and he wondered whether this person was actually a stranger to you.

“Is this who you’re seeing? Your…boyfriend?”

All eyes were on Reeves. Bolsti’s, in shock, because he hadn’t entertained that thought yet. Yours, because those were the kind of follow-up questions you wanted to avoid. And the new addition to the group, because he had no idea what the hell was going on. The hands fell off your body at the accusation.

You shook your head to everyone’s relief. Except yours, because Reeves couldn’t keep his damn mouth shut. A growing smirk and an inhale likely preceded a snarky comment about how you’re lying and you couldn’t stand to hear it. Whatever possessed you to say you were seeing someone reared its stupid head and spoke up again.

“We don’t use labels like that.”

Even the stranger knew you were lying and couldn’t hold in a snort. You’re a joke. This is a nightmare. What the fuck. Before anything worse could happen, the door to the shop swung open.

“Is there a problem here?” asked one of the shop owners, eyeing the group.

“No, Mr. Inslo, we’re leaving,” you said quickly, unwilling to languish any longer in the hole you dug.

You grabbed the arm of the person standing next to you and pulled them down the street, blinking back your frustration. The sounds of Reeves and Bolsti explaining the situation - spreading your lie - faded into background noise.  Once you two were a decent distance away, you stepped down a side street to release your unwilling conspirator and wipe the tears blurring your vision.

Finally, you looked at the stranger and were greeted by a face you recognized from the bounty posters. Of course. Not just a pirate, but a pirate captain. Instead of the fearsome grin from the poster, however, he currently wore a different look. The clown-y face paint and red nose probably influenced how you read his expression - he appeared irritated but also bemused.

“You’re shit at acting.” His hard tone stung. That was a fair review. You deserved it.

“Whatever, things got out of hand. Sorry for dragging you into it,” you grumbled, deeply embarrassed that your awful performance had multiple witnesses.

“And…?”

You stared at the pirate, unsure what cue you must be missing. Realizing you needed another prompt, the pirate held his stomach and feigned an injury. He leaned to the side weakly and contorted his face, letting out a groan of pain. The odd blue tassels on his hat swung with his movement. You bit back a smile at his dramatic retelling.

“Sorry for assaulting you.” The forced apology was enough to put a stop to his charade. “I guess you do know something about acting.”

“I should, I’m known as the ‘Genius Jester’ after all.”  The blank, placid smile on your face annoyed him. “I’m Captain Buggy, the Star Clown!” He held out his arms in a welcoming gesture, which did little to elevate the tightlipped grin that didn’t reach his eyes.

“Mmm, clown. That explains the…” You waved your hand in front of your face, which seemed to make Buggy even more pissed. “...face paint,” you finished with a confused mutter, which was met by a small sneer.

You didn’t understand why the pirate was getting so fired up when you already apologized and absolved him from the shitty situation you created. Feeling tears well in your eyes again, you took a shaky breath to try and calm the agitation and exasperation flooding your body.

Buggy watched as you tilted your face to the cloudless sky. Your overfilled eyes reflected the bright sunlight before you closed them and inhaled. When you opened your eyes, a few tears escaped.

“Listen, you can go. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

“What were you trying to do?”

You didn’t expect the question, but reasoned with yourself that he probably wanted to know how he got involved. It didn’t take long to share the full backstory. You hoped talking about it would alleviate some of the stress. Afterwards, you still felt the oppressive weight on your shoulders, however, it was nice to have someone who knew the truth.

A soft breeze carried voices down the side street. Buggy noticed how you tensed and correctly assumed you heard the two shitheads you were trying to avoid. Panic was written across your face as your eyes darted back and forth, contemplating different scenarios. This was like a cheesy soap opera and the clown could hardly hold in his laughter at the scene. Unfortunately for Buggy, the chuckle that escaped his mouth made him a target.

Without warning, you grabbed Buggy’s coat and stumbled backwards until you met the wall. The momentum threw the pirate off his balance. He threw up his arms to stop from crashing into you or the wall, which was your plan. You were caught between his arms while he leaned towards you - to anyone passing by, this would look like an intimate moment between lovers. And that orchestrated sight is what Reeves and Bolsti saw as they slinked past.

You let go of Buggy’s jacket, letting him step away. Your face was flushed and your eyes sparkled with the momentary victory. You were surprised to see the pirate was smiling as well.

“Not mad?”

“No, that was surprisingly effective. I think they believed it.”

“It only worked because you were still here,” you sighed, resting your head against the wall. “Honestly, a small part of me wants to ask you to keep playing along.”

“Sounds like a role I don’t want.” 

You appreciated how Buggy met the energy of your half-hearted remark. It was nice to joke about your predicament.

“That’s fair. What’s in it for you… What do pirates want? Treasure? A treasure map?” you mused.

“Sure, I would do it for treasure.”

You froze. And Buggy noticed. You locked eyes, parallel thoughts running through your minds.

“Would you really? “Do you actually have treasure?” 

Another pause. The two different questions managed to answer each other.

“A map. It belonged to my dad,” you finally clarified. 

“A real treasure map?” Buggy asked in a low voice you felt compelled to answer. You nodded.

“Tsk tsk tsk,” the pirate waggled his finger, admonishing you for answering. “Telling pirates that you have a treasure map is a very bad idea.” 

Fuck. He was right. This was a bad idea. Multiple bad ideas. This was not your day. Your face scrunched in anxiety and disappointment. Another expression that garnered an amused huff from the clown. The subsequent glare you sent him didn’t diminish his amusement.

“Don’t worry, don’t worry. I know how to keep a secret,” Buggy said with a wink. “I’ll see you around, sweetheart.”

And with that, the pirate left. He heard an agonized groan and stomping feet fade as he walked away. He shook his head and chuckled as he imagined the frustrated tantrum you were throwing behind his back.

[dollslayer]

Sweeter Endings

Sugar Daddy!Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: Still reeling from the financial realities of losing your mother you turn to a lucrative website for help and get more than you could have bargained for.

W/C: 5,325

Warnings: Smut (no minors 18+ only), light D/S dynamics, brief mentions of alcohol consumption, unprotected sex, swearing

A/N: NO MINORS, I wrote this for @donutloverxo 's Sugary 4k Challenge (Congrats!!) I love sugar daddy AUs so I was really excited to write this!! If you like it then please like/reblog/comment I'm all ears! Also maybe check out my other stuff if you want! Cheers!

Main Masterlist

____

The saying ‘desperate times call for desperate measures’ was truer than you’d ever imagined and you found out the hard way. Life had hit you hard last year. You had watched your mother succumb very quickly to cancer. A cold that just wouldn’t go away turned into a doctor’s visit turned into three months left to live. Having no one else in her life, the cost of her funeral and medical bills fell to you. The bills outweighing the inheritance you had no choice but to drop out of school.

One year later you were hanging on by threads to keep yourself off the streets without turning to a loan shark or selling yourself. Stocking shelves at a bougie grocery store in Soho by day and bartending in Tribeca by night had you working six days a week. What free time you had you were too exhausted to do anything with. Something had to give or you were going to collapse from the stress, you just didn’t know what.

A couple weeks ago you had been casually venting about how broke you were with a coworker when she jokingly suggested signing up for one of those Sugar Daddy sites. You laughed along with her but it sounded better than getting a third job. You had quietly asked one of your roommates to borrow their laptop saying you needed to look at job postings only half a lie, really and locked yourself in your room.

You were just gonna check out the website, maybe sign up and poke around, it didn’t mean you were committing to anything, just looking. You remembered first looking at the website once your shitty wifi loaded it, promising ‘beautiful and successful people making mutually beneficial connections’. You balked after reading that but you couldn’t look at any profiles without making one yourself so you had set to work.

After making your profile you hadn’t gotten any hits in about a week so you shrugged it off. You couldn’t keep hogging your roommate’s computer anyways so you set off back to work. Your days at the store wore on into endless nights at the bar and you wondered what other options you really had when you had no degree and no experience in any relevant field.

___

6 o’clock on a Thursday night, the typical after work crowd begins to roll in. The bar you work in is upscale, classy. Definitely trying to lure in the businessmen that worked in the area and their wallets. It annoyed you to deal with the same type of customers you did at the store all over again but with the high end crowd came good tips so you couldn't complain too much.

It was busier than usual when a group of men in suits walked in together asking for a booth. You saw a lot of business meetings take place over whiskey sours in this place so you didn’t think much of it. You tried your best to keep tending to your regulars when a pair from the group came over.

One of the men had deep brown eyes and a sly grin that when split gave you the perfect view of the gap between his teeth. He was confident but he had a kind look to him. His friend had dirty blond hair and a beard that clung to his perfect jawline and you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t snuck a second look. You turned your back and continued filling orders to distract yourself when one of them cleared their throat behind you.

As you turned to face them you found it was the blond calling after you. His face held a hint of surprise but it was quickly replaced by a look of amusement as he smirked and one brow lifted, like he knew something you didn’t. He was like any other typical customer for you, professional and handsome, probably over-confident in himself. You returned his smirk and prepared your best charming banter. Time to earn those tips.

“Something to drink for you, gentleman?” You offered.

“We’d like a round of scotch for the table over there. You don’t mind bringing it over, do you sweetheart?” the brown-eyed man asked.

“Of course not” you answered. Pricks.

“Good girl” the blond said with a wink. Creep. A hot creep but still. Before you could ask he took his card out of his wallet and put it on the counter for the tab.

____

A round had come and passed, soon they’d asked for another but this time it was just the blond that approached you. You lifted your eyebrows in anticipation of an order.

“You here often?” he asked. Ugh, not even a good pick up line.

“Am I here at my job often?” You retorted with a playful smile.

The man’s shoulders shook as he chuckled. “Sorry you just uh, you look familiar that’s all. What’s your name?”

You supplied him with it and asked him if he wanted another round of scotch. He nodded.

“Smart girl, I’m Steve by the way.” He laid down his business card which you picked up with a look of challenging curiosity. Steve Rogers, CEO of Shield inc.

Oh. You didn’t recognize the name but you definitely knew the company. It felt like a quarter of their employees stopped in for a drink throughout the week and it was prominent enough of a company that you read about it weekly. Play it cool, these types want to feel like an every-man at the bar but still wanna feel important.

You raised your eyebrows again in recognition. “Nice to meet you, Steve, I’ll have your round right out.”

“Good Girl” he winked again at you. Okay so it’s hot, but he’s a total stranger and you don’t even know him. Stay on your game.

___

10 o’clock came around and things were thinning out slightly, regulars made their way out, awkward Tinder dates and rowdy young 20-somethings made their way in. The party of businessmen was still around but they were hopefully wrapping up after the 2 more rounds they’d had. Steve approached the bar once more and you preemptively picked up the bottle of scotch.

“Whoa, easy, girl! I’m here to pick up the tab” He said, taking out his wallet.

“What’s the name on the tab?” You decided to play dumb but based off the grin on his face he knew you were playing with him.

“Steve. Rogers.” He replied, his tone was stern but his eyes told you he was in on the joke.

You cashed him out and left him to sign his receipt so you could make more drinks. You saw him move in your peripheral and turned your head to see his face.

“Have a good night, sweetheart. I’ll be seein’ ya” he promised.

“Take care!” You smiled back.

A few minutes later you circled back to collect his receipt and found three $100 bills staring back at you. You blinked dumbly in disbelief, who the hell leaves a 200% tip? Looking around to see if Steve was still here he was nowhere to be found. You had no choice but to pocket the money.

____

Another week went by and left you wondering how much energy and concentration it would take for you to just evaporate, since that seemed easier than going to work today. Sadly still in solid form, you punched in at the store and stowed your things in your locker.

Your upscale customer base was a mostly pretentious and successful group of yuppies so even though you were grateful to not be on the streets you were constantly reminded of the professional success you couldn’t help but feel that you were missing out on. Stuck instead to listen to incessant whining ‘is this organic? I won’t eat it unless it’s organic’.

The upside of this job was that the time went by quickly because you always had so much to do. Plus with how monotonous the work was it was easy enough to zone out. So much so that you hadn’t heard someone calling your name and approaching you. A hand softly touching your shoulder snapped you into the present.

You looked up, startled to find a pair of blue eyes staring back into yours. You took a step back and processed who it was. “CEO guy?” Steve?

“‘CEO guy?’ I thought I recognized you, ‘barmaid’ or should I say… ‘stock girl?’” He joked using his fingers to make quotations.

Now that you thought about it, the store isn’t that far at all from the bar, it would make sense if he’s in the area. You smiled and tapped your nametag in response.

“I just came in on my lunch to grab a few groceries” looking down at his basket it held some protein powder, some eggs, and one lonely banana. “Clearly, I’m single. But you’d know that already, wouldn’t you?”

Your brows twinged together in confusion. What is that supposed to mean?

“Excuse me?”

He edged a little closer to you and lowered his voice “SeekingConnection.com?”

Your eyes widened in shock. The fucking Sugar Daddy site! I forgot about that! Surprise was quickly replaced with humiliation. You looked down and away as you felt your cheeks heat up.

“I don’t mean to embarrass you” Steve placated, “But I gotta say, I’m pretty hurt you never responded to me. I sent that message weeks ago and let’s just say I’m not used to rejection.” He kept his tone light, letting you know he wasn’t mad.

“I-I um, I’m sorry, I don’t have a computer and they don’t have an app, I was using my roommates’ computer and I guess I forgot about it…” You admitted.

Steve nodded in acknowledgement. Please say something to salvage this conversation. Please.

“Well,” Steve rummaged in his pocket for another business card. “You got a pen on you?”

You dug around in your apron and came up with one. Handing it to him you watched as he wrote on the back of the card. He held the card and the pen out to you.

“That’s my number, I’d ask for yours but I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable, you already look like you wanna sink through the floor” Not helping, but I do. You took them from him and tucked them away in the pocket of your apron.

“You do have a phone right?” You only glared at him in response. “Well, if you check your profile, you would’ve seen I asked you out to lunch, offer still stands. Just text me when you’re free”

Should I even say yes? I mean, the winking the other night was weird but he’s good looking and at least somewhat considerate. I mean, it’s not like I had any other intention when I signed up for that site. What the hell. right?

“I… usually work mid shifts so I don’t know if lunch is doable, they only give me half an hour but, maybe we could do coffee? I’ve got tomorrow off from the bar I could meet you” you suggested.

If Steve felt pity for you he hid it well behind the wide smile he made when you offered coffee instead.

“There’s a place around the corner from here, just up a block, you know it? I’m off tomorrow at 6, why don’t you meet me there?”

“Sounds like a plan.” He winked at you again and started walking away. What the hell just happened?

____

You did end up borrowing your roommate’s computer once again when you got home to look up Steve’s DM. Sure enough, there he had been in all his internet glory. ‘Steve, 33, CEO. likes: art, conversation, whiskey. Digging around further on his profile you found that he owned several houses here and in Europe, he had a dog that was cuter than he was, and that he was ‘Seeking deeper connection’. All of these things piqued your interest.

‘Hey, Doll. Saw your profile and I had to ask, what’s a girl like you doing in a place like this? Kidding, of course. But maybe you’d care to tell me your story over lunch? Your profile says we’re both in New York. - Steve’ Sent three weeks ago. Fuck.

You had texted him earlier to confirm, which is how you found yourself walking up the sidewalk towards the shop with a mind running rampant with nervous thoughts. What if he just wants to feel big about himself in comparison to me? What would I even really have to offer the relationship? A college dropout working two dead-end jobs with no social life. You needed to snap yourself out of it. You were just meeting for coffee doesn’t mean anything.

Pushing open the door you found Steve waving at you from a quiet corner. He was still in a suit, presumably coming from work himself. Even the buttons on his shirt looked expensive. You were wearing dirty jeans and a worn pair of work boots paired with a flannel. You couldn’t have looked more different if you tried.

“I waited for you to order,” He said. You smiled up at him, only now realizing how tall he was in comparison to you. He ushered you both towards the counter where you both placed your orders. You moved to take your wallet from your purse but he had already beat you there.

“Really? As if I’d let the lady pay, and on the first date no less?” He said playfully.

“Oh, so this is a date now, is it?” You kidded.

Steve shoved his hands in his pockets and gave you that boyish grin and a shrug. The pair of you made your way back to the table and waited for your drinks to be brought over.

“How was work?” You asked, “What exactly is it that your company does?”

“We offer security and surveillance software domestically as well as international. Stadiums, airports, other government buildings. Things of that nature. And work was fine, thank you for asking” Steve said with a genuine smile. “How was your day, doll?”

“Oh, my day was fine, more of the same but y’know,” You answered half-heartedly.

“You know, you never answered me, what’s a funny, pretty gal like you doing on a site like that?”

Embarrassment hit you again, this time maybe accompanied with a hint of shame. You were saved momentarily by your drinks being delivered. He seemed truly interested and since he was paying you supposed you owed him an answer.

“I was going to Columbia and I had a pretty good internship when my mom got diagnosed with cancer. She died three months later and since it was only always just the two of us I ended up footing the bill. I was on partial scholarship but between the hospital and the funeral I can’t really afford the rest of tuition on top of working for free so here I am” you explained, “Oh my god, I’m sorry I’m totally oversharing aren’t I? You probably don’t wanna hear about a bummer like this, sorry”

You tried to laugh to ease the tension you thought you’d created. Braving a look at Steve, he looked thoughtful and only a little bit like he pitied you. You could live with that.

“I’m really sorry about your mom, mine also got really sick before she died, I know it must’ve been hard. What were you in school for?”

___

You and Steve talked for hours, trading anecdotes of childhood and talking about each other’s interests. You had a similar sense in humour so you got on swimmingly. The evening seemed to be coming to a close as the night sky sent in through the window.

Being with Steve was probably the most relaxed you’d felt since before your mom was diagnosed. It became difficult to focus on anything but your financial situation and even though that’s what brought you here in the first place you had managed to forget all about it.

“So look, us getting together wasn’t exactly the most conventional on meet-cutes but to put it bluntly,” He said, “The CEO life makes it hard to meet real people and it gets kinda lonely, I mean, you saw my grocery basket” You both laughed at that. “You need money and I need company, I feel like we could help each other out. Whad’ya say? Think you could put up with me?”

You knew what this was but hearing it put so plainly was a little surprising. At least he was to the point.

“So if I said yes what does that mean, exactly?” you inquired.

“Well,” he started, “We take care of each other. Let me cover some of your bills at the very least, make it so you’d be comfortable quitting at least one of your jobs. And you’d keep me company, we go on dates, maybe you could come over, there’s the occasional work event or charity gala I’d need you on my arm for. Thoughts?”

God I can’t even imagine what it’s like to work only one job anymore. Maybe I could even save up and go back to school. He’s cute and he seems sensible, why not?

“Could we maybe take things slow? What you describe is something I’m down for but I don’t want to make myself completely dependent on you. But I’d love to be there for you, and I have to admit, the thought of only working one full time job is pretty crazy to me” You laughed.

Steve swallowed and placed one of his large, warm hands over yours.

“I can do things the old fashioned way, if that’s what you’d feel good with. I gotta say though, with looks like that it’s not gonna be easy” he jested.

You smiled shyly and looked away. You both stood to leave and he held the door open for you.

“I’ve already got your number from when you texted me earlier but I’ll talk to my assistant about my schedule and maybe I could take you out to dinner this weekend?”

“I um, I’d really like that. It’s a date” You stated.

“Oh, so you think this is a date now?” He jested.

You lightly punched him in the arm and he took the opportunity to pull you closer to him. You looked up to find his face inches from yours. You could smell his aftershave and his deep voice gave you goosebumps when he spoke next.

“I kinda want to kiss you goodnight, would that be okay?”

You could only nod as he shut his eyes and closed in. Your lips met in one perfect, chaste kiss. You sighed and leaned into his hand as it briefly cupped your face.

You broke apart and made promises to see each other soon. You felt like you could’ve floated home as you boarded the subway, caught up in the swarm of newly forming feelings.

_____

You sat in the break room when your phone buzzed to life, ‘Saturday at 7?’

You were about to type out a yes when you forgot you worked closing at the bar. Your thumbs moved quickly to tap out the reply ‘Working, sorry :/ the pitfalls of bartending. Sunday at 7?’

You were nervous telling him no and asking to change plans. You hated not being able to make things work but you only just met the man and the weekend tips were killer, it’s not like you could turn the shift down.

‘Ah yes, almost forgot. Sunday works too, I’ll text you the details. What’s your address? I’ll pick you up’

Oh, God. Steve can’t see my building! His cufflinks probably cost more than my rent!

‘I’ll just meet you there, don’t worry about it’

‘Not a chance, doll. Just tell me where and I’ll come get you’

You let out a worried sigh but knew you had to let it go. You sent him your address and went back to work.

____

Saturday was maybe the longest day in your entire week, in fact you loathed it. Mornings at the store followed by running immediately to the bar. Last call in New York was 4am so it’s a good thing you didn’t try to make brunch plans with Steve for Sunday. But ultimately both your shifts passed without major incident and now it was Sunday and you tried to ready yourself the best you could.

The place Steve mentioned was fancy, you knew that much from a quick search. Panicking instantly upon realizing you don’t really have any nice clothes you turned to your most fashionable roommate for help. She loaned you a cocktail dress that was revealing enough to draw interest without giving everything away. You just hoped Steve would like it.

‘Downstairs, doll. Silver BMW’ you exhaled. Hoo boy, here we go.

____

Steve handed his keys to the valet and rushed around to open your door for you. You held his hand and you clambered onto the sidewalk in your heels. His warm hand on the small of your back as he steered you towards the doors was a comforting weight.

Dinner has been lovely so far, he chose a place that wasn’t completely white-glove but was upscale enough to make you feel only a little underdressed.

You joked back and forth with him over the course of the meal, talked about your lives, and even found out you both have a guilty pleasure for cheesy rom-coms. It wasn’t until dessert and your third glass of wine came that you realized how much time had passed. You frowned slightly thinking of the early morning ahead of you followed by a long night at the bar.

“What’s wrong, doll?”

“Oh, nothing I just didn’t realize how late it was, I’ve got both jobs tomorrow it’ll just be a long day that’s all” you tried to wave it off but Steve frowned in response.

“Quit the bar” he stated.

“What?”

“Quit the bar. This is your card, I’ve already loaded $3000 on there. Put me in touch with your landlord and I’ll get you taken care of.” He slid the card across the table to you. Your name printed on the front. This got real very quickly.

“Steve, that’s.” You were in shock, a loss for words almost “that’s too much, I don’t know what to say.” You felt embarrassed taking the money. You knew that was the essence of your arrangement but actually taking his money had you feeling uneasy.

“Honey, this is what I’m here for. Let me take care of you. Give up your late nights. I wanna take you out on the weekends and you’ll need to be available for events. You can stay at the store if you want but quit the bar, you don’t need it.”

You took a deep sigh. He did say he wanted you to be comfortable quitting one of your jobs; it's just making the change that scares you. But something about Steve felt safe so you nodded and looked up to him.

“I’ll put in my two weeks”

“Good girl” he patted your knee and you involuntarily clenched your thighs. He smirked at that but let it go.

____

A few months had come and gone since that night and your time with Steve had been great. Only working the one job gave you so much more free time. You'd spent a good chunk of it just trying to form a normal sleep schedule but all the time you spent with Steve made it difficult. Not that you minded especially since your allowance was monthly but he’d showered you with gifts here and there.

They started off small, perfume, chocolates and flowers, or a simple pair of white gold hoops that reminded him of you. They gradually became pricier and more elaborate. You’d felt guilty accepting it all at first but he was insistent you deserve the best. He had even mentioned you moving out maybe finding a better place but you reminded him you needed to go slow.

He’d also been nothing short of a gentleman. Out in public at least, you’d learned the hard way that he was an absolute animal in bed. It was becoming increasingly difficult to keep your hands off of him.

Something you had appreciated about Steve is that he never made you feel bad or less than for being broke. Never held his money over your head like leverage. You’d felt equal to him in all aspects, understanding you had just as much say as he did.

Still, there was a small nagging voice in the back of your head that reminded you Steve is not your boyfriend. This isn't a relationship and he's looking to get something out of just like you are. But if you were being honest you were catching feelings, it was hard not to when the man was giving you the fantasy. You decided to push that voice aside whenever it came up and let yourself be swept away. Maybe that would bite you in the ass but for now you were happy.

____

You were buzzed into Steve’s building and on the elevator ride up to his penthouse your phone buzzed. ‘I have to make a quick call- I’ve got a present waiting for you in the living room.’ You couldn’t help but feel giddy.

The doors opened and Steve was nowhere in sight but as you entered the living room a bag from Chanel and the Apple Store sat on the table. Oh god, what this time? I swear this man is too much.

You opened the smaller bag from Chanel first and found a beautiful black and white evening bag. It was sleek and simple, very much to your tastes. You were nervous to open the Apple bag, Steve always went overboard. Shakily removing the paper you pulled out the slim case in disbelief. A MacBook Air and a pair of AirPod Pros. The man well and truly spoiled you.

“You said you didn’t have a computer.” His voice came from behind you and startled you.

“Steve, this is too much. You’re too much.” You swung your arms around his neck and kissed him.

“Nothin’s too much for you, doll.” He kissed the top of your head.

“Think you could take a couple days off of work? I just got off the phone and confirmed plans for my house in Nice.”

A trip? France?? Oh my god. How is this my life? You felt so overwhelmed that you grabbed Steve by the collar and brought his face down to meet you in a kiss. His tongue swiped your lips and you granted him entrance. Moaning into his mouth your hands traveled up into his hair, pulling softly and coaxing a groan out of him.

He guided you to sit on the couch and brought you down into his lap. You ground down onto him and felt his hard-on through his slacks. Your hand moved slowly to undo the buttons of his shirt as he kissed down your jaw towards your neck. You sighed softly when he found your sweet spot and started sucking.

He helped you take off his shirt while you got started on his belt and undid his pants. He lifted himself off the couch slightly to move them down to his knees, taking his briefs with them. His cock stood proud and an angry red, leaking at the tip.

“I wanna ride you, I can’t wait.” You pouted as you writhed against him in need.

Steve tutted at you “that’s no way to get what you want. Ask me nicely, baby. Beg to ride my cock,”

You ground down even harder and whined. “Please, sir, please let me ride your cock. I need to feel you, I can’t wait any longer please.”

“Good Girl” Steve's hands flipped up your skirt and found your panties, ripping them to shreds. They were La Perla and had cost a pretty penny but he didn’t care.

He lined himself up and brought you down harshly gripping your hips. You moaned loudly in surprise and satisfaction and wasted no time moving back and forth. Steve made you feel so close and connected to him whenever he fucked you but he still made you feel sordid and dirty. You couldn’t get enough of the feeling, you’d gladly chase it.

His eyes were hooded as watched you chase your own pleasure and giving him some in return. His hands kneaded your ass and smacked it just to get a gasp out of you. He grabbed the back of your head and brought you in for a searing kiss that was all teeth and tongue. He’d nip at you and lick the pain away.

His hips met yours, finding your rhythm and speeding you both up when he gripped your hips.

“Can’t wait to have me, you had to fuck me on the couch huh?” Steve panted, “my dirty girl. So fuckin’ gorgeous.”

You put your forehead against his and went harder, pushing your clit to grind against the muscles of his abs.

“Only yours, sir.” Your orgasm was building. Steve was a pretty relaxed dom but you still needed permission.

“Sir, please let me cum I can’t wait any longer” you tried your best to slow your movements a bit.

“I think you can hold it baby, I wanna enjoy you a little longer”.

You could only whine in response and tried to slow your pace but his grip on your hips and his own movements pushed you further and further towards the edge. You tried to squirm out of his grasp but his hands only tightened. It felt like forever until Steve finally gave you permission.

“Go on baby, cum for me you earned it. Fuck your self on my cock and cum all over me”

Your movements were frantic, desperate to chase your orgasm when finally the perfect angle of his cock inside you and your clit against him set you free. You cried out above him and dug your nails in deep.

Steve held you firmly in place and started slamming into you from below, finally letting himself think about cumming. All you could do was hold on for mercy. Moments later he brought you down onto him one final slam as he came inside of you with a cry.

The only sound in the room was both of you trying to catch your breath. You sighed again and collapsed against him, nuzzling your face into his neck. He kissed the side of your face and let you make yourself at home while he caressed your back.

____

One shower and two more orgasms later you were both clean and made your way to the kitchen. Steve was gathering the ingredients for dinner when you hugged him from behind. Your head resting against his back. Steve twisted around and hugged you in full. You both stayed like that for a moment until you looked up at him.

You were so content. Moments like this where you were just domestic were some of the best between you. It wasn’t about money or material, it was just the two of you making dinner and enjoying each other, no barriers.

“Are you really going to take me to France?” Your voice came out muffled against his chest.

“Of course, doll. After dinner I want you to use your new laptop to buy some outfits for the trip. I left my card in your new purse.”

You lifted onto your tiptoes and kissed his nose.

“You really do think of everything, don’t you?”

“What can I say? I’m a planner” he retorted.

You didn’t know it yet but Steve was going to ask you to become official while you were there. He wasn’t worried in the slightest. In fact he’d never been so sure about something in his life.

[whatifxwereyou]

Ashes Chapter 13: Perception

Fandom: Mortal Kombat 2021

Pairing: Liu Kang x Reader

A/N: Maybe it's inevitable. Definitely cried like an adult while writing parts of this. I'm a weepy baby. I hope you imagine an ugly MySpace style sparkly gif every time Y/N uses the word "kidnapping". As always, appreciate you guys <3

First Chapter << Previous Chapter Next Chapter >> Chapter Index

Buzz.

You peeked one eye open and caught sight of the smart phone dancing around on the nightstand close by. Strong arms were wrapped around you and there was no mistaking who they belonged to this time. Liu. You’d fallen asleep next to each other and somewhere along the line, in unconsciousness, he’d cuddled against you.

This was fine.

This was all fine.

The phone continued to dance and nearly vibrated right off the edge of the nightstand and onto the floor. You grabbed it from its place near the edge and wiped your eyes with your other hand. Johnny Cage. Rubbing your eyes again, you checked the time on the phone. It was nine at night. Carefully you snuck out of Liu’s arms without waking him. You’d mastered sneaking out of bed while you’d been dating Kung Lao. He was so heavy a sleeper that in the beginning of your relationship you had wound up trapped beneath his arms for hours. Then when you tried to get away, you’d wake him up. Eventually you’d mastered maneuvering from his grasp without waking him because waking him led to fooling around or talking and then you were either trapped having to pee or late for some responsibility or another.

Liu adjusted behind you but didn’t wake up. You fixed your askew shirt, grabbed your keycard, and then answered the phone and stepped into the hallway, carefully closing the door behind you.

“This is weird. I don’t think I even got your name earlier.” Johnny spoke without waiting for you to acknowledge him. You chuckled beneath your breath then cleared the sleepiness from your throat. “I know that may seem like it’s a pretty common thing for me but…”

“Y/N. You can call me Y/N.” You interrupted what you were sure was a very cleverly crafted explanation about his popularity and fame. Johnny Cage seemed like the type to be easily derailed from a topic with banter. You’d become skilled at wrangling men like that given that Kung Lao had been your other half for so long.

“And you’re from China, right?”

“Yes, but what does that have to do with anything?”

“Just trying to make sure I spell your name right…” His voice was distant, as if he spoke nowhere near the phone. You spelled your name for him with a sigh. “Is that…?”

“That is not important right now.” You interrupted him again. You had to keep him on task or this conversation was going to go on forever.

“Right, yes. I’ve been thinking about this morning.”

“And?”

“I was hoping to hash out the details with you guys before I officially agree to anything.” Johnny Cage tried to sound like he was bargaining with you but you were already convinced that he was joining you. This seemed like a formality. Or like he was dragging it out. Why? You couldn’t think of a good reason. Maybe to try and land a date with Sonya? You didn’t think that was going to happen and also it seemed petty. Then again, you and Liu were a hot mess in the middle of all of this so you couldn’t criticize anyone else’s motives. “I’ve begun clearing my schedule for the next few weeks but I’m a busy man, you know. Takes time.”

“I understand that. I’m sure that we can meet tomorrow to answer any questions you may still have.” There was no point in arguing with him on that. It was a reasonable request though not entirely necessary. Besides, you were still ready to jump to the kidnapping stage of this endeavor. If he caused too much trouble tomorrow then you would promptly lure him somewhere quiet and knock him out. Then you’d go from there. You could probably convince Cole to help you if you had to but you didn’t think it would go that far.

“That’s exactly what I hoped to hear!” You could hear the smile on Johnny’s face. “When we’re off the phone, I’ll text you where to meet me.”

“Sounds like a plan.” You yawned.

“I wanted to ask you something. You seem like a nice woman.”

Oh, how misguided a man Johnny Cage was. Oddly trusting for someone in his position. Here you were planning out an elaborate scheme to kidnap him and drag him to China and he thought you were nice. It was probably the tea thing from earlier. Ah, well. You’d fooled him.

“Ask away, Mr. Cage.”

“Just Johnny, if you don’t mind.”

“Sure.”

Then he sighed as if trying to word his question or embarrassed to ask it. You waited patiently. There was no need to rush him. You weren’t sure that Johnny Cage could be rushed. “Are you guys for real? Or are you just dicking me around? No one put you up to this, right?” After everything that you had showed him that morning, he was still stuck on the idea of this being a prank. Was Johnny often victim to silly pranks? Did he find himself the butt end of a joke amongst friends? It was funny to imagine.

“I know that this is… what’s the saying? Difficult medicine to take?” You weren’t so good with the English idioms. Maybe that was why he thought you to be nice. You were far more sarcastic in your native tongue. Your English was good but stuff didn’t always come out right.

“Hard pill to swallow but I got the point.” Johnny chuckled. “…so yeah? It’s true?”

“Trust me, Mr. Cage, I have much better things to do than play silly pranks on you.” You reassured him but he scoffed as if insulted. “That and I’d never heard of you before this.” It sounded like you’d punched him. Ah, yes, the delicate male ego.

“Low blow. Never heard of me?” You could picture the horror on his face.

“No offense meant.”

“I bet you just didn’t remember my name. Dragon Fist? Cage Match? Aquatic Assault? Exiting the Dragon of Death? A personal favorite of mine…”

“Exiting the Dragon of Death?”

“Yeah? You’ve heard of that one?”

“No.”

“Come on, don’t play with me like that.”

“I couldn’t resist.” You spoke over him as he made to list more movies. “I’m sorry to have offended you.” You were certain this could go on all night and you were still tired and now you were hungry too. Your appetite was back and you were far less shaky than you’d been earlier that day. “I did watch one of your films last night with a friend so that I could be familiar with your movement patterns.”

“For that crazy duplication thing you did?”

“For my arcana, yes.”

“…and?”

“It was a fun movie.”

“Which one did you watch?”

“Mr. Cage, this is a conversation for another time. Can we stay on topic?”

“Just Johnny, please.” Apparently no, he could not stay on topic. You pulled the phone away from your face so he wouldn’t hear your heavy sigh. Hearing footsteps behind you, you turned and found Cole approaching holding an ice bucket and offering a wave. He stopped next to you and nodded toward the phone. You mouthed that it was Johnny Cage. Then he offered you a thumbs up, pointed toward the end of the hall and walked away, presumably to get ice. “I’m making a choice to trust you. I don’t think you’re lying to me. I hope I’m making the right choice.”

“I’m a terrible liar so good choice.” He continued going on about something but your brain was tired of the babble. You needed food! This conversation felt like it would have gone on all week if you let him talk the way he wanted to. “Can I trust you no to dick us around?”

“I promise. You’ve got a deal, Y/N.”

“Text me the address and we’ll meet you just before noon.” You assured him.

“Got it. See you then.” Johnny hung up and you breathed a sigh of relief. At least this part of your trip was going smoothly. Seconds later your phone buzzed with a message from the same number. You selected the address and put it into the browser of your phone after figuring out how that worked. From what you could tell, the address seemed legit. A house by the shore. Of course, a beach house. Why wouldn’t he take the opportunity to show off?

“How’d it go?” Cole returned with his bucket full of ice.

“Mr. Cage is going to meet with us tomorrow to discuss details.”

“I anticipated us having to use your devious plan B so I’m surprised he’s going to meet with us.” Cole adjusted the bucket in his arms. “What do you think of him? I’m having a hard time taking him seriously.”

“I meant it when I said that I thought he was funny earlier. Honestly, if we had met without any of this pretense, I think that he and I would get along quite well.” You shrugged. “I also think that he’s going to do what he thinks is right if that’s what you were really asking. Seems like the type to talk a big game but ultimately a good guy.”

“That’s optimistic of you.”

“I usually have a good read on people.”

“I can tell.” Cole gestured toward your door. “You just getting in? Maybe not.” He looked down at your bare feet.

“I was napping.”

“And you came into the hallway to take a call?”

“Yeah, I was uh… going to grab food.”

“Without your shoes?”

“Are you always this nosy, Cole?”

“Not really but this afternoon has been especially boring. Plus, your reactions are entertaining.” Cole smirked. “You have more color now. That’s good to see.”

“Why does no one believe me when I say I’m just tired?” You gestured back to the room. “I’m gonna go.”

“We’re about to grab a bite to eat if you want to join us. Late dinner.”

“No, no, thank you though. That’s sweet. I’m okay.”

“You just said you were going to get food.” Cole laughed.

“…I think I’ll order something.” You pointed to your bare feet but was sure your expression was one that screamed you’d been caught in the most pointless of lies. Cole had inadvertently talked you into a corner. You hadn’t even meant to lie! It had just happened. This was why you didn’t usually bother.

“You’re lying.”

“Yeah, turns out I am. I’m not good at it.”

“I can see that.”

The door to your room opened behind you and Liu Kang peeked into the hall, still looking sleepy.

“Hello Cole” Liu stepped into the hall and kept the door propped open a crack, back leaned against it. Then he bowed his head politely in greeting. He turned to you and spoke Chinese as if this weren’t suspicious. You didn’t think it had the intention that he wanted it to have. “Everything okay?”

“I had a call to take with Mr. Cage. No big deal.” You replied in English to try and make it seem like you had less to hide. Why? Because Cole was already giving you a look as if to say it was ‘nothing’. You sighed. “I’m just about done.”

“Good.” Liu replied in English. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” You snapped at him without meaning to then took a cleansing breath. He was just worried about you but you were tired of the worry. You felt far better than you had earlier. A few hours of sleep had done you good. “I really am fine.” Liu bowed his head politely to both you and Cole and then disappeared back into the hotel room.

“What was it you were saying earlier? About that being nothing?” Cole teased in a whisper after you made no move to offer any explanation.

“If you recall, I also said it was none of your business.” There was no point in trying to lie again. You folded too easily. Instead, you’d be evasive. That was easier. Avoiding the truth was far easier than twisting it at least for you.

“Liu looked pretty tired. You guys have a nice nap?”

“We fell asleep talking.” You narrowed your eyes at his implications but also hated how close he was to the truth.

“Sure, is that what the kids are calling it these days?”

You shoved his shoulder with a laugh. “Your ice is melting Cole. It’s nothing.”

“Yeah, I’m going to have to mentally shift my definition of that word to better fit what I’m seeing.” He teased. “You’re trouble, Y/N. I’m making note of it.”

“You have no idea, Cole.” You pointed to the room behind you. “I’m going now.”

“Enjoy your nothing.” He called after you. You disappeared into the hotel room and then leaned against the door once it closed. You fiddled on your phone and sent a message to Jax, relaying what you’d learned from Johnny Cage along with the address and what you’d agreed to. The door to the small bathroom to your right opened and Liu stepped out, closing the door behind him. He waited patiently for you to finish on your phone.

“When I woke up and couldn’t find you, I was worried.” He nodded to the messy bed where you’d been sleeping. And snuggling. You mustn’t forget that there had been a fair amount of snuggling.

“My phone was ringing and it felt rude to answer it with you asleep so I stepped into the hall.” You shook the phone in your hand and then filled him in on the conversation you’d shared with Johnny Cage. You left out the exhausting banter that had kept you on the phone for far longer than necessary. Even if it had been mentally exhausting, you had also enjoyed talking with him. Your phone buzzed with Jax’s response. “Okay, Jax is going to arrange a ride to take us to meet Johnny tomorrow. He’ll also let everyone else know where to meet.”

“Good.”

Silence followed and you stood awkwardly in the small entranceway of the hotel room.

“So.” You began.

“So.”

“You should probably go, right?”

“Yeah.” Liu shifted but made no move to leave and a smile played on his lips. “Or… I could stay. We could order some food and continue our… getting along for the day.”

“Mostly getting along.” You corrected. Maybe he’d chosen to forget when he’d pushed you against the wall and you’d nearly undressed him. You blinked the mental image away. If you thought about it for too long then you’d probably end up right back where you’d started. “We could. Is that what you wanted to do?”

“Are you okay with that?”

“I guess.”

“There was a menu around here somewhere.” Liu walked back into the open area of the room and you were grateful he’d taken the initiative to make the decision to stay. In all honesty, his presence was comforting and conflicting. You craved the comfort but the guilt and pain made you want to push him away. Your brain was such a mess. Your emotions were even worse. You joined him and mulled over the menu, trying to discern what was safe for you to eat. Liu called to place the order since he had several questions about the food. His diet was more specific than yours was. You had never quite taken to the vegetarian diet completely. Your food arrived and you sat on your bed and ate while making quiet conversation. It was pleasant, if not a little awkward. In a way, it was reminiscent of when you would spend time alone together when you were first dating Kung Lao. You had often avoided discussing the difficult things then but not for the sake of each other. Instead, it was for Kung Lao.

“Cole seems to have taken a shine to you.”

“Yeah, he’s a nice guy and his family is cute. I think he feels guilty about Kung Lao so he’s compensating a little.”

“I could see that. I tried to reassure him that he isn’t to blame.”

“I did too.” You clicked your tongue in amusement. Liu gently nudged you with his shoulder.

“Today was nice.”

“I mean, parts of it were.”

“We had a bit of a rough start but things didn’t end so horribly.”

“Well,” you began in a higher, nervous pitch, “we didn’t exactly fix anything.” Liu laughed. “And I think we definitely made things worse but… all things considered, neither one of us is dead and we aren’t screaming at each other so that’s something.”

“I was thinking and… maybe we don’t have to fix anything.” Liu avoided your eyes and began to clean up dinner. You knew why he was avoiding your eyes because you were looking at him like he’d lost his damn mind. He had. He was insane. You couldn’t keep going like this. You both knew that. “We can’t ignore it, obviously. But we can’t expect to resolve anything when we’re like this. We’re grieving, Y/N. We hurt each other. But I also think that it could be healthy to try and find a way to be content amongst all of that too. We can’t force a resolution, Y/N. I think that’s clear.” Liu’s smile was soft but strained, like talking about it so analytically pained him. “I don’t think I can handle this much misery all the time.”

“I understand.” You didn’t necessarily disagree with him you just couldn’t see the end either. He seemed to think there was some kind of happily ever after waiting for you and you didn’t think there was. The only end to life was death. Even if you found happiness eventually, life would continue moving. No amount of happiness would erase your history nor would it erase your trauma. That didn’t mean you wouldn’t find joy. You were just being realistic. “It’s weird, isn’t it?” You helped him gather the dishes. Liu then placed the tray aside on the desk. You picked up the tray and placed it carefully outside the door and then returned to him. “Surreal is maybe a better word for what we are right now.”

“Surreal works.” Liu’s smile was forced and it pained you. “We’re going to be okay.”

“Oh, you think so, hmm? Confident in that?”

“I am.” He grinned but you could still see that worry behind his dark eyes. Liu had never been a good liar either. It was a wonder that he’d fooled you all those years ago. Perhaps because he’d said all the things that you’d been afraid he’d say.

“I suppose the worst thing that could happen is that we decide not to talk to each other anymore and lose touch. Then in like, thirty years, we’ll reunite and reminisce about the old days. Then this won’t seem so complicated anymore.” You hadn’t realized how much you’d considered that as an option until then. Liu seemed alarmed. “What?”

“Is that what you plan to do?”

“That would imply that I’ve thought past today so… no.” You sat on the side of the bed facing the window. There was no way to open the window so this was as close to the breeze and the stars as you could get. “But it happens. People drift apart even after being as close as we were especially after traumatic stuff like this. And this is a pretty messed up thing we’re dealing with, Liu. I can’t pretend to know what will happen.”

“I don’t want to drift apart.” He sat next to you and cautiously placed a hand over yours on the bed between you. There were times where he treated you like a ticking time bomb. This was one of them.

“Of course not, Liu. I don’t want that to happen either.”

“You had that scenario pretty thought out.”

“This time, Liu? You’re the one overthinking things.”

“Maybe.” He watched out the window, but you felt his thumb brush over the back of your hand. Looking at the night sky was easier than looking at each other. But right now the night sky looked empty. You didn’t see the stars. Just the lights of busy Los Angeles, a thing which brought you no peace. “Do you think you’ll still be this cute in thirty years?”

“I uh…” You laughed and pretended to consider it. “I didn’t think about it. For the brief moment I considered this make-believe scenario, you were still cute.” You joked and nudged him playfully.

“You’re beautiful Y/N, so I’m sure you will be too.” Liu still didn’t look at you. “I always thought so. Even when I used to tease you.” You rolled your eyes at him in disgust and he laughed again. You were well beyond being bashful at his compliments.

“Cut it out, Liu.”

“I just don’t want to leave it unsaid.”

“It feels like you’re trying to butter me up.” You narrowed your eyes in suspicion.

“Maybe. Or… perhaps this last week I’ve been cruel to you. I thought that I’d pay you a compliment instead.” That was as good an excuse as any. You had dug at each other quite a bit the past few days.

“I’m not vain.”

“I know. I always liked that about you.”

“Stop it, Liu. You’re freaking me out.” You laughed and shoved at his shoulder.

“I won’t.” He leaned back on one arm. You reached for your phone on the bed behind you as it buzzed. Jax had verified the location online as legitimate. He’d even found out that the property belonged to Johnny. Apparently, Jax had been much more suspicious of him than you had been. You’d decided to trust Johnny. And if he lied to you then you’d just go to plan B. Kidnapping. Jax continued on to say that he’s pretty sure the asshole just wanted to show off his beach house. You chuckled. You’d thought the same thing. You replied quickly to ask if you were still to meet in the morning in the same place. Jax replied to be in the lobby by ten. “Going off without a hitch?”

“Are you spying on my conversation?” You cradled the phone protectively against your chest and pouted.

“I didn’t mean to.” You set the phone aside face up. You had nothing to hide anyway, you’d just been trying to lighten the mood. Then you watched the dark sky out the window and tried to find something positive to say about it. He was right. You’d had too much unpleasantness lately. “Kung Lao would have loved…”

“Do you think about that a lot? What Kung Lao would have thought or felt?”

“Don’t you?” You thought that was obvious. “We spent most of our time together. This is the longest I’ve been alone in years.”

“I… hadn’t considered that.” Liu’s eyes fell to the floor. There was plenty that you hadn’t thought regarding each other. “It must have been hard waking up next to me.” You sighed heavily. There were those difficult conversations you couldn’t seem to avoid. You didn’t know how to respond. That wasn’t an easy answer. If you could have lied and said it wasn’t weird than it would have been simpler. But lying had gotten you into this in the first place and you didn’t want to lie. You were so tired of hurting.

“I… yes.” You sighed and then closed your eyes tight. “But I confess that I miss being held.” You hated saying it and even got the chills as you did. You and Kung Lao had spent most nights at least next to each other if not tangled up in each other. Liu was watching you with those big sad puppy dog eyes of his again. “But I also feel selfish and awful for having briefly thought it was nice.”

“It’s okay to be selfish at times.” He clasped his hands together in his lap, as if nervous they would betray him as they had often done. “I confess that when I woke up alone, I panicked.” You smiled a little. You hadn’t considered that he would be upset to wake up alone after falling asleep next to you. Oh, boy. You were both a mess. “But then I remembered this was your room and you had nowhere to run, really.”

“Did you briefly consider that I was so dedicated to running away that I went and got another hotel room to avoid you?”

“No.” He laughed and then furrowed his brow as if trying to picture you doing that. “You didn’t consider that, did you?”

“Of course not.” You chuckled, resting your elbows on your knees. “The phone rang and I didn’t want to wake you. That’s about as far as I had thought.” Your head was pounding and you realized all at once that you were clenching your jaw. Ugh, tension headache. “At least this time I woke up with all of my clothes on.” Liu laughed softly and avoided your eyes. Then he laughed harder as if he’d just gotten the joke. “What’s so funny?”

“It’s kind of like déjà vu, isn’t it? You woke up next to me again and then I woke up alone.”

“You know, Liu, I’m trying, but that’s not funny.”

Still he laughed and you watched him in disbelief. Was it you? Were you the one cracking up?

“I have to laugh, Y/N. I have to or I think about how screwed up it is.” He leaned back on the bed and stared at the ceiling. His face fell. You turned to watch him in disbelief and your stomach twisted up into knots. “I just couldn’t help myself, could I? I had to… cross that line.”

“Liu…” You didn’t want to fight again. You thought you had made a truce for the day.

“I have to say this, Y/N.” He turned his head to the side to look at you and you leaned on your side to better meet his eyes. They were so sad and it was killing you. “The woman that Kung Lao planned to spend the rest of his life with. Only a little while after he’s gone and I just… how selfish I am.” You searched his troubled eyes and then couldn’t help but laugh but you weren’t smiling either. Liu knit his brow in confusion.

“Liu, I… I said the same things to myself.” You offered a sympathetic smile but he didn’t seem relieved to hear that. “Not about you, obviously. I don’t think I’ve ever used the word selfish when describing you, really. Or at least meant it. Maybe out of anger… but I… how could I? Kung Lao’s best friend. His brother. I feel like I just lost him and I still, somehow, couldn’t manage to keep myself together well enough not to sleep with you.”

“Sometimes we’re a lot alike.”

“Most times it feels like we’re oil and water.” Now you avoided his eyes, afraid of what yours might reveal to him. “I’m sorry that I ran off that morning, Liu. I panicked. I didn’t know what else to do. I was terrified and embarrassed and ashamed and… the idea of having to talk to you about it was too much.”

“Why were you so scared?” He turned on his side to face you, as if eager for this answer, as if he had been caught wondering that same thing for too long. “I know it was a… big thing but I…”

“I guess no matter how I played it in my head, it went wrong. You uh…” You were having a difficult time saying the words without getting upset. “I kept picturing us having to find a way to… be okay with… it being a mistake because… I…” You were frustrated with yourself for not being able to say it. “It felt like a mistake. Like we’d fallen into an old habit. Or that it was just… a transaction and I couldn’t hear those words again after everything. I was already falling apart and I don’t know what that would have done to me. And then… you being receptive to it would have been just as painful… I… Kung Lao…” You had to stop there. You were pretty sure you’d made your point.

“I think I get it.” His eyes were taking you in while yours were avoiding him and were most likely glassy with tears. “Maybe I didn’t consider how much I’d hurt you back then. It never crossed my mind until you brought it back up and I realized the damage I’d done. I hadn’t considered myself that important.” There was that similarity again. Neither one of you thought yourselves to be important to the other when it was far from the truth. “I wish I’d had a say in the matter that morning.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I understand now.” He sat up and offered you a hand to help your back up too. you took it and sat up with him but he didn’t let go of your hand. “I’m sorry too. I’m sorry that I reacted so angrily. That I was so cold to you. I thought it might make things easier and put distance between us.”

“Did it work?”

“No. No, it didn’t. I wish, more than anything, that I could go back.” His eyes were dripping with sincerity and you avoided his gaze again. You couldn’t help but think that if this had been Kung Lao, you never would have had this conversation. Nothing ever would have gotten resolved. You had both avoided your emotions like the plague.

“To that morning? Hard pass, Liu.”

“Think about it. I could wake up with you. Keep you from running. We could talk.”

“That’s a fantasy, Liu. It wouldn’t have ended the way you want.” You threw him an accusatory glance. “You’re fantasizing. I was too panicked. I would have lashed out.”

“And maybe I could have kept a level head.”

“It’s a fantasy.”

“Let me have my fantasy, Y/N.” He laughed and gave your hand a squeeze. His smile faded as he let go of your hand and closed some of the distance between you. Your instinct was to pull back but you didn’t. He pushed your hair away from your face and tucked it behind your ear. The loose strands of your long hair tickled your neck as they fell back into place. You turned your gaze away. His hand was warm as it rested on your cheek and you could feel him admiring you.

“Seems dangerous to let you.”

“Many good things can be dangerous, Y/N,” he whispered. You got the shivers and moistened your lips nervously. You should have moved back when you’d wanted to. You were so much closer than you’d realized and his lips brushed just against yours. He was going to kiss you and you knew what would happen. Tender kisses led to feverish kisses. No kiss between you had ever stayed just that. You had never once exchanged a soft, momentary kiss. Every single time you had wound up in his arms. His lips would treasure yours like they were something priceless and yours would tease his in return to make him want more. Then you’d be naked.

The more time you spent this close to Liu the more inevitable it seemed to wind up in his bed and you weren’t sure that was the right thing. You weren’t sure it wouldn’t destroy you. It was a dangerous way to think but he was right too. Many of the best things were often dangerous.

“Don’t.” You managed and caught his eyes, half-lidded and admiring your lips. His gaze snapped back up to yours and you watched as he took a careful breath. You could feel it against your lips. He was thinking it too. How dangerous this had become.

“Probably a bad idea, right?” His voice was low and just for you.

“An incredibly bad idea.” You tried to joke but your words fell flat. It was miserable being this close to him and not kissing him, against every instinct in your body. You could feel as he ran his tongue over his lower lip, as he weighed the pros and cons of defying you. You held your breath.

Then he scooted back a few inches. You felt like you could suddenly breathe, like the air was less thick than it had been so close to him. Your heart was hammering away and it was a headrush, as if to punish you for having wanted that kiss. You cleared your throat and put more distance between you. But try as you might, you couldn’t stop thinking about those marks you’d left on his back that you had so clearly felt earlier. Did he think of how you’d clung to him in passion every time he shifted and felt those scabs? That was truly a dangerous thought.

“It’s late. I should go.” He had turned away, but his eyes were wide and his breath was short, as though he were also fighting dangerous thoughts.

“Yeah. Good idea.” You got up and walked past him and around the bed. He followed you and then walked past you to the door. Then he bowed politely.

“Goodnight, Y/N.” He looked hesitant, as if he were still considering crossing that line again.

“Get out, Liu.” You gestured to the door behind him, making the choice for him. He laughed and did just as you asked. Once he’d gone, you leaned against the door with a thud and whined. “What am I doing?” You closed your eyes tight and felt a wave of guilt weigh you down. Then you flipped the swing bar lock shut on the door as if this would provide you with protection from your stupid feelings.

Maybe you had to reconsider the situation.

Maybe this was inevitable.

Maybe guilt wasn’t enough to keep you from being attracted to Liu Kang.

It felt wrong. It felt like you were betraying Kung Lao. It was too soon and you were too broken. But maybe someday it wouldn’t be those things. You weren’t sure how long either one of you could wait either. Spending the afternoon with Liu had been eye opening.

Next Chapter >>

[loserholland]

𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐛𝐨𝐲

Pairing ➺ Spencer Reid x SSA!Reader

Warning ➺ None really, just flashbacks to episodes from season 7 

Word Count ➺  6,408

Summary ➺  When the Reader needs a date to her sister’s wedding, Spencer volunteers to be her date.

A/N ➺ Please enjoy! Maybe I’ll do a part two, who knows! But the bold text are the readers thoughts (:

✿ 𝓟𝓮𝓻𝓶𝓪𝓷𝓮𝓷𝓽 𝓣𝓪𝓰𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽 ✿ - @loveyathreethousand @taronxfiction @killerqueen-gunpowdergelatine@spideyyypeter @lou-la-lou @babebenhardy @rivervixenbaby @acklesholland@zabdisamor @keepingupwiththehollands @sweet666pea @sspider-parker@jackiehollanderr @caro0512 @thewinchesterchronicles @cporter003@kisses-holland @spideysnugget @cryszus @sunflowerharrystyles@peterunderoos @jessybellsworld @spider-mendes @ohbabycal​ 

@nerdgirljen​ 

@iloveyou3000morgan @random-things-i-love

*The strike through your name just means I couldn’t tag you, please message me if anything*

☞  Masterlist  ☜

“Shots!” 

Garcia shouted as she placed a the tray onto the table of the booth, it had been one hell of a long week and they finally had a free night. And with a free night meant head to the local bar make it one hell of a night.

Everyone reached for a shot glass whereas Reid raised his glass of Arnold Palmer.

The bar was slightly packed, mostly by FBI agents, the sound of music plus the amount of chatter in the club brought a smile to everyone’s faces. It’s been a while since they had gone to the bar as a team.

The booth was filled with laughter, the team had been talking about anything and everything, passing around jokes about one another.

Originally it was supposed to be a girls night, but the boys had begged that they allow we allow them to join. Well Rossi and Morgan were the ones who pleaded and insisted on dragging Reid and Hotch along.

(Y/N) felt her phone vibrate causing her to bring it out of her pocket wondering who was texting her at this time.

𝘚𝘰 𝘸𝘩𝘰’𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘸𝘦𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘥𝘢𝘵𝘦?

She groaned loudly reaching for another shot placing her phone face down on the table. Morgan raised his brows lightly noticing her sudden mood change.

“What’s up with you (Y/L/N)?”

(Y/N) leaned back into the booth drawing out a long sigh before answering “Nothing, my sister was just asking who’s my date to her wedding which is next week.” 

Rossi chuckled lightly before asking, “Who’s the lucky fellow?”

Yeah that’s the thing

There was no lucky fellow.

“Funny story..”

The team had just gotten back from Atlantic city. It was one of those cases where Hotch had given the team a long weekend off.

(Y/N) sighed lightly opening the door to her apartment kicking her boots off as she entered and locking the door behind her. Shrugging her coat off and placing it on the coat rack, she walked over to the kitchen placing the stacks of mail she had gotten before coming upstairs. 

After one hell of a week, she opened a new bottle of red wine and poured it into a glass before heading into her room for a nice hot bath.Once she was done relaxing she headed back into the kitchen, sorting through her mail till she stumbled upon a wedding invitation.

𝗝𝗼𝗶𝗻 𝘂𝘀 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘄𝗲𝗱𝗱𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗼𝗳 𝗥𝘆𝗮𝗻 𝗔𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿𝘀𝗼𝗻 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗦𝗰𝗮𝗿𝗹𝗲𝘁 (𝗬/𝗟/𝗡)

“𝘋𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘧𝘶𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘢𝘤𝘤𝘦𝘱𝘵𝘴”

“𝘙𝘦𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘧𝘶𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘥𝘦𝘤𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘴”

“Are you bringing a date?” (Y/N) mumbled to herself as she read the options to check off, of course only Scarlet would want to include that.

Not, number attending but are you bringing a date. Letting out a deep sigh her eyes gaze over to the pictures scattered over the fridge. (Y/N) was the second oldest of four siblings. She was the one out of four siblings to not be:

One- Married

Two-Soon to be married

and Three

Recently engaged.

Without thinking, she grabbed a pen and checked off to where we are now.

Morgan bursted into a fit of laugher before saying in between breathes “So, what I’m hearing is you don’t have a date?”

She glared at Morgan sticking her tongue out at him like a five year old child. It was already bad enough that every time she goes home to visit her family will ask: “Found anyone special?”

“Yeah, I don’t.”

It was a simple mistake, and well that simple mistake left her with no date. The last thing she wanted was to text her sister, “I actually have no date lmao.” because if that were to happen bridezilla would make quite the show. And she’d also never hear the end of that. Now, she has a week to find a date. That can’t be that hard right? Just who?

Morgan could barley catch his breath, (Y/N) kicked his ankle in annoyance “It’s not funny Derek! All I hear from my aunts are, oh you’ll find someone sweetie or you’re getting order you’ll find someone soon enough!” she leaned her head against the wall continuing to glare at Morgan.

“I could be your date.” Spencer spoke up trying to ease the tension that filled the booth.

Emily used her foot to nudge (Y/N) leg, she glared at the woman sitting across from her who wore an amused smile. (Y/N) glanced over at Penelope and JJ who also had the same expression on their face.

His brows furrowed, he didn’t see anything wrong with what he offered so- why was everyone staring?

“What? I-It was a suggestion.. that’s all.” His nose crinkled as he spoke pressing his lips into a thin line focusing his attention to the table in front of him.

Spencer may have an IQ of 187, and (Y/N) may be the youngest and second smartest of the team. These two are blind. Literally blind. It was quite obvious that boy wonder and miss.young and beautiful (well said from the one and only Penelope Garcia) have feelings for one another. 

If there was someone who can talk Spencer down, to get him to bring his walls down, it was (Y/N). Just a few months ago when everyone found out that Emily was in fact alive and not dead, everyone was happy that she was alive but that also came with being questioned by the Senate Committee for our retaliatory action.

But before Emily had came back everyone was dealing with her death differently.

There are five stages of grief:

Denial

Anger

Bargaining

Depression

Acceptance

With those five stages, everyone deals with their emotions differently. (Y/N) and Garcia did as much as they could to honor Emily’s name. Whereas Morgan felt guilty, telling himself he if he were there a second early he could’ve saved her. Spencer took it the hardest, he had gone to JJ’s house crying for almost 10 weeks.

Now with Emily back, the team felt back to normal. Well, some what back to normal. We had been called to Oklahoma, and it wouldn’t be a lie to say Spencer was not Spencer adding into the conversation or throwing in "Did you know.. facts”

He was quiet, distant.

“It’s too late alright!”

“Reid?” Emily spoke only watching as walked away.

(Y/N) looked at Hotch before saying “I’ll go talk to him.” giving her a nod of approval she grabbed one of the car keys and headed out towards Spencer.

Running out she watched as he continued to walk away, “Spencer!” she shouted yet no response.

“Spencer Walter Reid!”

Nothing

“Reid!”

The nearly 6’1 genius continued to walk away ignoring your calls. 

“Hey loverboy! I am talking to you! You know I don’t like being ignored!”

Spencer stopped in his tracks throwing his head back lightly “I don’t want to talk.” he spoke without turning around.

The heels of her boots clicked against the sidewalk once she was next to him she linked her arm with his pulling him towards one of the SUVS.

“Who said I wanted to talk? What if I wanted to get some coffee.”

Luckily there was a coffee shop that was a few blocks down the road, the car ride was silent- comfortable silence. (Y/N) never pushed Spencer to talk, she waited patiently for him to bring it up on his own.

In which, he did.

“I cried.. for ten weeks (Y/N).. ten weeks back to back.”

His voice barley above a whisper.

(Y/N) brought her right hand forward taking ahold of his left giving him a reassuring squeeze.

“Spencer, Hotch and JJ kept Emily safe. The less people knew that Emily was alive, the better because Doyle was still out there. If he found out Emily was still alive, he would’ve gone after not only Emily but the rest of the team as well. Trust me, it’s odd to have Emily back I mean we ‘buried’ her for christ sakes. But she’s here, with us again. Not six feet. under. I can’t speak for JJ but, I know she never meant to intentionally hurt your feelings or make you feel vulnerable. We were bound to find out sooner or later Spence.”

Truth be told, (Y/N) hated seeing Spencer sad and angry. Something she never saw all that often but knew him being sad made her feel sad.

They had spent an hour an a half in the coffee shop, now they were walking back into the station. Slowly Spencer had opened up more, she let him go uninterrupted allowing him to speak as she listened.

“Thank you by the way.”

(Y/N) smiled nudging him with her elbow, “Anytime loverboy.”

-

"Look at pretty boy go!” Morgan chuckled raising his enclosed fist towards Spencer who awkwardly fist bumped him back. She watched as he pursed his lip his gaze fixed on his drink avoiding eye contact with the rest of the team and especially (Y/N).

Hotch sighed lightly glancing at his phone before giving Rossi a nod, “I better get going, I don’t want Jessica to stay too late. Have a nice weekend guys, I don’t want to see any of you at the office.” 

It was just fifteen minutes past eleven and everyone was ready to head home and call it a night. Stepping out of the nearly now packed bar greeted by the cool air of Washington D.C. They had bid their goodbyes and headed to their cars. 

All she could think about was what Spencer had said, “I could be your date.” I mean, there is no problem with him being her date right? Beside the fact that you have a huge fat third grade crush on boy genius. 

Once she got home she kicked off her boots padding over to the kitchen for a glass of water placing her belongings on her couch. A loud ding echoed throughout her apartment, it may be her sister again wondering who her date is.

Grabbing her phone out of her purse the notification flashed across the screen:

A message from Scarlet. Swiping her thumb across the screen unlocking her phone to read the message.

𝘏𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘰? 𝘋𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘪𝘨𝘯𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘮𝘦, 𝘸𝘩𝘰'𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘥𝘢𝘵𝘦?

𝘈𝘳𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘸𝘢𝘬𝘦?

𝘊𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘰𝘸.

𝘈𝘳𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘮𝘰𝘮 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘥𝘢𝘥 𝘰𝘳 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘨𝘰𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘺 𝘢𝘵 𝘢 𝘩𝘰𝘵𝘦𝘭?

𝘏𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘰?

𝘐'𝘮 𝘵𝘪𝘳𝘦𝘥, 𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘰𝘸 𝘰𝘳 𝘦𝘭𝘴𝘦.

𝘗𝘴, 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘢𝘩 𝘸𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘦!

“Love you too whore.” (Y/N) mumbled placing her phone onto the coffee table walking away to her room to get changed. Another loud ding caught her attention, “I thought she was going to sleep?” (Y/N) thought to herself.

Instead it was a message from Emily.

𝘚𝘢𝘺 𝘺𝘦𝘴! 𝘛𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘥𝘢𝘵𝘦!!

Plopping herself onto her couch running her fingers through her hair.

He’s awake right? I mean it’s only twelve-fifteen? She held her phone in her hand tapping it lightly against her thigh contemplating whether or not to call him. 

“Just call him.” she mumbled to herself

Her family didn’t have any problems with Spencer. The one thing she’ll never forget is when he had told you father "The number of pathogens passed during a handshake is staggering. It's actually safer to kiss." The look on your fathers face was priceless.

Besides that her family had no problems with Spencer. They just describe him as being bit awkward and rambles on about well anything. It’s almost been four years since she joined the BAU. She was lucky enough to join at the age of twenty-three. And she’s been with them ever since.

When (Y/N) first joined the team Jason Gideon had just recently retired and David Rossi had returned voluntarily. You know that new kid feeling? New school, fresh faces, no friends? Yeah, that was the was her current feeling.

(Y/N) had barley gotten any sleep the night before. She felt anxious, tossing and turning the almost the entire night only to get about three hours of sleep. She had gotten up thirty minutes before her alarm, and had gotten there thirty minutes early.

Now she was currently sitting in SSA Aaron Hotchner’s office. You’ve heard many amazing things about his team, they are truly one of the best. Brushing her hands against her skirt for what felt like the hundredth time.

Pull yourself together, there’s nothing to be worried about.

“Agent (Y/L/N), would you like to meet the team?” Hotch spoke, (Y/N) turned her attention to the door giving him a nod of approval. Standing from her seat she followed him into the conference room.

“You’ll be fine.”

(Y/N) chuckled lightly, “Sorry, I’m just extremely nervous.” he smiled lightly opening the door to the conference room, the only person she knew was David Rossi, the BAU wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for Gideon and Rossi.

“SSA (Y/L/N), this is SSA-”

“David Rossi, I’ve read your books and they are magnificent.” Rossi chuckled lightly sticking his hand out for her to shake in which (Y/N) gladly shook. She had just met one of the greatest profilers of all time.

(Y/N) looked up at Hotch before quickly apologizing “This is SSA Prentiss.” The beautiful raven haired woman smiled “Emily, nice to meet you.” moving to the man standing next to her “SSA Morgan.” he smiled shaking her hand “Derek.”

“(Y/N).” she replied.

“Our Communications Liaison Jennifer Jareau.”

“You can call me JJ.”

“Our tech analysis Penelope Garcia.”

Finally, the last person whom she had grown closes too.

“And Doctor Spencer Reid.”

That was your team. And they were more welcoming than you thought they would be, they were your second family. If you guys weren’t on a case, you’d be at the bar raking up Rossi’s tab. You were able to talk to them about almost anything, if you needed time off Hotch understood.

The first year she had worked with the team, they were very welcoming. Hotch had partnered you with Spencer most of the time, either you two would check out the M.E or stay back at the police department. It was safe to say it was a bit awkward at first when you were partnered with Spencer. But, she wouldn’t have wanted to be partnered with anyone else.

“Hello?”

Shit! He’s awake. Wait, when did I call him up?

“(Y/N)?”

Say something, he knows you’re on the other end of the line.

“Are you okay?’

Are you having a stroke right now? Say something!

“H-hi, sorry to bother you so late.”

It was fifteen minutes to one, did it really take me almost thirty minutes to call him?

“It’s fine, just getting a little bit of reading in. Did you need something?”

She bit the bottom of her lip getting up from her seat on her couch, just say it! Tell him you’d love to have him as a date.

“If your offer still stands.. I’d love to have you be my date.” she paced around her living room. Please say yes, this would be totally awkward if you said no but- you did offer to be my date?

Spencer smiled widely “Yes! I-I mean of course, I mean- I’d love to accompany you.” though (Y/N) couldn’t see him she knew he had his hand covered over his eyes mentally curing at himself.

“Great! I’ll text you the details tomorrow? Thank you again Spencer, I appreciate it.” 

“Y-yeah cool cool, um good night, sleep tight.. don’t let the bed bugs bite.” 

He could be such a dork sometimes. A cute dork. Rambling on until someone says something or he’d catch himself and apologize. Usually the team would exchange looks but, you’d sit there listening intently. It’s amazing that someone so young has already three PhD’s and as the genius said himself “I just keep getting PhD’s”

“Good night loverboy.”

Spencer had his nicknames, from Pretty boy, boy wonder, kid, doc etc.

Loverboy however, kinda just slipped. They had been working a case and Spencer was deep in his thoughts, she had been trying to get his attention for the last five minutes. When she had said it, he cheeks were painted a deep shade of red. Ever since then, the nickname just stuck.

(Y/N) tossed her phone onto the couch squealing loudly, surely enough she knew one of her neighbors would file a complaint against her but she didn’t care. All she cared about was the fact that Spencer Reid was her wedding date, and she couldn’t be more excited.

-

The entertainment capital of the world

Sin city

Fabulous Las Vegas.

Home to Spencer and (Y/N), the two were going to be staying with her parents since they live the closes to the venue. The drive to her parents house meant passing by her high school, and without a doubt she knew Spencer would have something to say.

“Isn’t that your old high school?” 

She glanced at Spencer for a short moment before answering, “Yup, class of 2003.”

About a month ago the team had gone to Boise,Idaho where a serial killer is murdering the survivors of a high school massacre that took place exactly ten years earlier. Hotch had sent (Y/N) and Spencer to examine the crime scene. 

“The unsub has to be tied to the school somehow. Maybe a current student, alumni, or a family member who lost someone?” (Y/N) mumbled as she scanned the crime scene 

“It could be a Slade groupie celebrating his hero. He taped nails to the exterior of the bomb. Specifically to rip open flesh-” Spencer spoke turning his head slightly to see (Y/N) examining the various pieces of nails.

“That’s a Slade detail of Slade’s the unsub copied.”

“Except he tricked Givens into blowing himself up.A groupie probably wouldn’t show that much self-control.” (Y/N) pointed out her eyes looked from the ground to the ceiling.

“But someone with an ax to grind against the principal would. Maybe he’s a surrogate for the tormenters in high school he can’t punish...” he examined the photos he held in his hands, “who were yours?”

(Y/N) chuckled reaching forward to touch the piece of nail in the wall, “I don’t even remember.” she mumbled.

Spencer raised his brow in confusion, “You don’t even remember?” his voice filled with disbelief. He stepped forward still stuck on the subject, “Wait, were you one of the mean girls?”

She turned around in surprise her eyes widened at his question, “What? No!” Okay maybe there were some people she was a bit rude to. That only being her  younger brother who was a freshmen when she was a senior.

“Track star with a full ride scholarship to UNR and was accepted by many universities, one of the valedictorians of her class, and the student body president? That not only screams popular but you could’ve been one of the mean girls!”

(Y/N) gasped loudly walking past Spencer to get to the other side of the room, “Could’ve been, I was actually one of the nice popular girls! I was even friends with guys like you!” 

“Guys like me? I'll have you know that my social standing increased once I started winning at basketball.“ now that was hard to believe.

“Spencer Reid playing basketball no way.” (Y/N) snickered causing Spencer to press his lips into a thin line, “Okay, I coached basketball. I broke down the opposing team's shooting strategy.” Now that sound more like Spencer.

“Is that why Morgan kicked you out of the pool last week?“ Rossi held a BBQ last Sunday, inviting the entire team over and Spencer and Derek were going at it in the pool bickering with one another.

“Yeah. Took him three rounds to realize I was hustling him.”

(Y/N) pulled into the driveway shifting the gear into park, she turned slightly to face Spencer. “Spence.” she whispered, he turned his head in confusion. Spencer had met her family, but he was about to meet MORE of them. As much as she loved them to death, they could be a little too much.

“First off, I wanna say thank you so much for being my date. Second, my family.. they are loud and can get very.. touchy? If you feel uncomfortable in any given moment please tell me because I don’t want you to think you made a mistake by coming.” He gave her a warm smile, placing his hand over her’s.

“(Y/N/N)!” a voice shouted causing (Y/N) to jump slightly pulling her attention away from Spencer. Her mother smiled happily, she was beyond excited to hear that (Y/N) was bringing Spencer as her date. The two exited the car retrieving their luggage from the trunk. 

“Hey mom!” (Y/N) shouted as she closed the trunk watching as Spencer waved hello to her mother.

“Hi Mrs.(Y/L/N).” 

“Oh Spencer! How have you been? Come in get settled Steven and I are treating you two to dinner tonight!” She watched as her mother followed Spencer into the house, it would be an understatement if I said my mom loved Spencer.

I mean who wouldn’t?

Later that night when they had gone out to dinner they just so happened to run into one of her family members that every so gladly invited themselves to dinner. 

And the immediate question was, “So (Y/N), who’s this?” that lead to a somewhat awkward dinner. You know how everyone has that one favorite cousin? Then there was that one cousin that was a tattle-tale and much of a show off? That was the cousin that was at dinner tonight. 

“This is Doctor. Spencer Reid, he’s my partner. I-I mean the partner on my team, a-

“So what I’m hearing is you’re single?” Gwen questioned causing (Y/N) to gasp lightly watching as Spencer shifted in his seat “Um- well yeah but-” his voice had gone up a couple octaves. Drawing his hand away from the table watching as Gwen’s cheeks tinted a deep red.

“Gwen quit it, you’re making him uncomfortable!” (Y/N) snapped annoyed with her cousin’s behavior. This was the last thing she wanted Spencer to feel, uncomfortable. She didn’t want Spencer to think he made a mistake, before she could say anymore he glanced at her for a second before whispering “It’s okay.” If only she could strangle Gwen right here, right now. The table was filled with awkward silence, (Y/N) mother chuckled lightly before quickly changing the subject “So, who’s ready for tomorrow?”

-

The only thing (Y/N) always looked forward to was the reception. Her least favorite part was the ceremony where most of her family members would be asking her one too many questions. She had spent half of her morning mentally preparing herself for what’s to come today. What she was not prepared for was the suit Spencer had worn, well the velvet suit jacket to be exact. It had matched perfectly with the red dress she had worn.

Spencer sat with (Y/N) siblings watching as she chased around her niece and nephews, “I’m gonna get you!” she shouted causing her niece to squeal loudly running father away from her aunt. (Y/N) had always gotten along with kids, they’d easily adjust to her. When they had cases dealing with kids, it would either be Spencer, JJ, or (Y/N) to be the ones to talk to them.

“Remind me, the next time Garcia tries to get me to go to a shoe sale I need to say no.” (Y/N) spoke in between breaths settling next to Spencer, Wonderful tonight began to play bringing almost everyone to the dance floor. She took ahold of his hand dragging him up from his seat, “Spence we need to join them!” 

The sound of his heart beat was music to her ears, beating softly. The feeling of being so close to him, left butterflies in her stomach. It felt so, domestic? It’s not an everyday thing to dance with Spencer Reid.

“Do you see yourself having kids some day?”

(Y/N) pulled her head away from his chest looking up at him with a raised brow. That was a bit out of the blue.

“Just the way you interact with your niece and nephews, you’re good with kids. i’ve noticed that when we work on cases dealing with kids. you’re patient with them.” Spencer glanced down at her, she looks so beautiful.

(Y/N) sighed lightly before answering, “Yeah, ideally... I want to have kids by the time I’m thirty and well, I have three more years to make that happen.”

Spencer hummed at her response allowing (Y/N) to continue.

“My parents... they had told my siblings and I that I would be the first to have kids, and well-“

Her eyes gaze over to her older sister whom was the first to have kids, her beautiful niece and nephew. Seated at the same table her brother whom was recently engaged and his fiancée awaiting their first child.

And now her younger sister wouldn’t be too far behind.

“I’m not a profiler, but aren’t those two completely oblivious about their feelings for one another?” Isabelle commented watching as her sister dance with her date.

“That’s what I was thinking the entire time! The FBI should hire us, we’re good!” Cole exaggerated lifting his hand for Isabelle to high-five.

(Y/N) turned her attention away from her siblings back to look at Spencer. If only she could hear her siblings conversation.

“I’m gonna be the last to get married.” she said with a light chuckle.

There was no one to blame, i mean at this point she was married to her job and she knew the pros and cons. But there’s still time for her, time to find someone, to have kids.

“What about you doc? Do you want little geniuses?”

Spencer sighed lightly moving his right hand that was resting on her waist taking ahold of her left, spinning her around.

He held her hand for a moment swaying the two from side to side, “Of course, as much as I love being a godfather.. I wanna have kids of my own. An entire soccer team as one may say.”

That was something the two had in common, being a godparent. (Y/N) loved spoiling her goddaughter, even before she was asked to be the godmother.

(Y/N) giggled at his response, any woman would be lucky enough to have a child with Spencer. He’d make a wonderful father, he’d be ever so patient with his little boy or girl.

“Well your future wife is in for it.”

He felt a slight tug on his suit jacket, he looked down to see (Y/N) niece Lyrical, “I wanna dance.” the four year old said moreover demanded.

(Y/N) gasped lightly before letting go of Spencer’s right hand and moved to wrap her arms around him.

“No he’s mine.” she joked sticking her tug out at the four year old.

If he was standing in front of a mirror right now, he’d be as red as a tomato.

“No! My boyfriend!” Lyrical huffed wrapping her chubby arms around her chest with a pout. That was something Lyrical basically established during prior visits.

Whenever they’d have cases in Vegas the night before they leave the team goes to hangout with (Y/N) family. Her second family meeting her well family

(Y/N) drew back her arms from him as she looked between Spencer and her niece, “So- who’s it gonna be loverboy?”

Spencer hummed at her question before picking up Lyrical causing her to giggle lightly wrapping her arms around his neck swaying from side to side.

She held onto him, her fingers slightly tugged at the back of his hair. (Y/N) smiled, the warm fuzzy feeling she felt earlier was back again.

If Spencer’s first born child is a girl, she’d have him wrapped around her fingers before she was born.

She walked up to her niece peppering kisses onto her chubby cheeks earning a burst of laughter, the song changed into a more upbeat rhythm causing almost everyone to come to the dance floor.

“So, who was going to tell me they were dating?” Scarlet questioned, walking over to sit at the same table her siblings were seated. Isabelle snorted reaching for the glass of water in front of her.

“Why would we? They aren’t dating.. yet.” Cole answered sarcastically earning a slap to the back of his head. He glared at his younger sister, “I answered your question why did you have to hit me!” Scarlet shrugged lightly taking a sip from her champagne glass.

(Y/N) looked over to her siblings, who were bickering as usual.

“I’m gonna go sit for a bit.” Spencer nodded watching as she walked back to sit with her siblings before turning his attention back to the four year old.

“Woah Lyrical stole your date.” Cole snickered causing (Y/N) to roll her eyes playfully, “I know, better watch out she’s gonna have boys waiting on her beck and call.” The table rose with laughter, as they moved onto a different topic.

It felt like old times, sitting around with her siblings as they talked about childhood memories and embarrassing moments. She needed to come home more often instead of having them fly out to only spend a day or two.

Her eyes gazed over to Spencer and her niece who were stilling dancing, that warm fuzzy feeling. It’s unexplainable. She couldn’t help but imagine, what if. What if her and Spencer do end up together? Oh would their daughter be his princess. He would do anything for her. Whoever get’s to be the future Mrs.Reid would be the luckiest women in the world, his kids would be blessed with such a wonderful dad.

Scarlet looked over to her older sister who was too deep in thought as she watched her date dance with their niece. She couldn’t help but notice the smile that tugged at (Y/N) lips.

“So does that mean you’re next?”

Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion, her train of thought coming to a screeching halt. Next?

“For?” (Y/N) questioned back, unsure of what Scarlet was trying to lead on.

“You and that handsome Doctor Reid.”

(Y/N) eyes widened causing her to shake her head from left to right, “What? No no, we’re just friends.” she tried to suppress the smile that dared to paint over her lips.

Her siblings look between each other before bursting into a fit of laughter, “Sure keep telling yourself that.” Cole spoke in between his laughter.

Y/N rolled her eyes crossing her arms over her chest before responding “Hey! We’re just friends.” 

Cole leaned back into his chair raising a brow at her, “So, you’re telling us you don’t have any feelings for him? Zero, nada, zilch?” she glared at Cole kicking his ankle lightly. He winced at the sudden action reaching down to sooth his ankle.

“I don’t have feelings for him.”

Isabelle rose her brow at her younger sister, “You’re doing that thing.” If there was one thing she was bad at it would be lying. You’d think for a profiler she’d be better at lying and would be able to keep a poker face.

“What thing?”

Scarlet sighed loudly, “(Y/N) you may be a profiler but, we’re your siblings we know when you’re lying.” That only caused (Y/N) to scoff loudly and shake her head at her siblings.

Why are they attacking me right now?

“You cross your arms over your chest and you smile, A LOT it’s kinda no it IS creepy. Plus you get defensive, like very defensive.” Cole pointed out only for the rest of her siblings to agree.

Let’s forget what I said early about visiting more often. They can continue flying out to D.C.

(Y/N) got up from her seat slipping her heels back on causing Cole to flinch slightly, growing up the only boy meant dealing (Y/N) scared him. A lot.

 “I wasn’t going to hit you ass clown!”

Maybe, just maybe she was spending a bit too much time with Rossi.

 “I’m gonna go for a little walk.” 

The three siblings looked between each other. If there was something she knew all too well of doing it was avoiding her feelings. Not opening up to others, building walls high enough so no one can look over and see what she’s feelings or thinking. 

“Don’t close yourself off! Say what needs to be said!”

It felt like deja vu. 

Emily had told her the exact same thing a few days ago.

"Oh my sweet angel face (Y/N)! You and boy wonder are blind!” Penelope slurred as she attempted to place her glasses on (Y/N) face. JJ couldn’t help but laugh at Garcia’s actions.

“My vision is 20/20 as a matter of fact!” (Y/N) answered earning another laugh from Emily, “Pen is right you know? Don’t close yourself off! Say what needs to be-”

“Hey, you missed the bouquet toss.”

(Y/N) blinked a few times before looking up to see Spencer.

“Did you know the tossing the bouquet is a tradition that stems from England. Women used to try to rip pieces of the bride's dress and flowers in order to obtain some of her good luck. Today the bouquet is tossed to single women with the belief that whoever catches it will be the next to marry.”

This was one of the many things she loved about Spencer. The amount of knowledge he holds in that huge brain of his. Usually the team isn’t much of a fan when he rambles on but, you loved it. The way he uses his hands to explain what he was thinking, or how he basically has an answer for well everything.

“Who caught the bouquet?”

He chuckled lightly taking a seat next to her, “Well Scarlet kinda threw it at me and said you know what to do. But your mom made her redo it, got a laugh out of everyone though.”

“Pretty sure you’re suppose to catch the garter.” (Y/N) giggled turning her head slightly to look up at Spencer who was laughing along with her. There was a sudden cool breeze causing her to wrap her arms around her chest.

“I knew I should’ve brought my jacket.”

Spencer shrugged off his dress jacket draping it over her shoulders. It was ever so slightly bigger on her she slipped her arms through the sleeves

“Thank you... and another thank you for being my date. I really hat- dislike attending weddings.”

“Did you know the first recorded evidence of marriage ceremonies uniting one woman and one man dates from about 2350 B-“

Her eyes fell towards the ground in front of her. Fixated on the shoes he was currently using.

The converse she had bought him for his 30th birthday, well belated 30th birthday. Not only was he using the converse she bought him but the mismatching socks as well. The team had been called to San Francisco to investigate a possible Zodiac Killer copycat. There was something up with Spencer however, he was quieter than usual. 

But it was only because he had doubts on why he’s in the FBI, questioning that he should be doing something more in his life with the amount of knowledge he had accumulated over the years. The team didn’t even realize they had missed his 30th birthday, and (Y/N) felt so bad for it. She was the one to always bring in the birthday boy or gal their favorite donuts and a cup of coffee. 

When the team had gotten back to Quantico she had stopped by to get him a new pair of converse and of course mis-matched socks.

“How did I not notice you’re using the shoes and socks I gifted you?”

His brows furrowed,“Is something wrong (Y/N)?”

(Y/N) sighed ignoring his question “I read that a crush only last four months. But if it last longer you are considered to be in love. is that true?”

“Actually, many people often mistake crushes and infatuation with love. The initial feelings of crush and falling in love are very similar. The rush of euphoria happens in both cases. The butterflies, and the feelings of pure joy at the sight of them happens in both cases. It’s easy to see how the two are mistaken for love because the feelings are so intense, but there is a difference. Crushes and infatuation go hand in hand, and are very similar-

He paused for a second catching his breath before continuing, “-a crush is defined as a brief but intense infatuation for someone, especially someone inappropriate or unattainable. Infatuation is defined as an intense but short lived passion or admiration for someone or something.

Involuntarily she rest her head against his shoulder, “What about love?” she questioned. You glanced up for a second watching as his tongue swiped across his bottom lip.

“Love is truly seeing and accepting their object of affection. It’s an intense feeling of deep affection. to be patient and understanding, love is forgiving. It desires a deep connection. When we truly love someone, we see their flaws, and we accept them. there are thoughts of a future together, and realistic expectations of ea-“

JJ sighed, “Just tell him say I love you. Not as a friend. But I love you, on a deeper connection. What’s the worst that could happen?”

“I’m in love with you.” her eyes fluttered shut, her heart was pounding in her ears, she felt Spencer tense at what she had just said. Oh god did I make a mistake?

She pulled her head away from his shoulder, tell him why just tell him.

“You’re the most sweetest, yet awkward guy I know. Not only are you sweet, you’re also so smart. I love to hear you ramble on about, honestly anything. You’re so caring, and kind. It hurts me when you beat yourself up, I just want to hug you and tell you why you’re wrong and tell you that I love-” 

Spencer placed his hands on her cheeks pulling her into a slow passionate kiss, everything happened so quickly it took her a moment to process what was happening. Wrapping her arms around his neck pulling him deeper into the kiss, the feeling was so surreal.

He pulled away slowly his hands still on her cheeks as he rest his forehead against hers, “I love you too.” he spoke as he stared into her (Y/E/C). (Y/N) smiled from ear to ear, stealing another kiss from Spencer.

“Finally!” a voice spoke startling the two. (Y/N) peeked over Spencer’s shoulder to see Cole standing there with well the rest of her siblings, oh yeah she was never going to hear the end of this. 

[bbrandy2002]

Fools Rush In

Part 4

Series: The Royal Romance

Pairing: Liam x OC (Riley)

Previous chapters can be found here.

Series Premise: With two weeks until Liam is to marry Madeleine, the guys throw him a bachelor party in Vegas. As a drunken night, he finds himself with way more than he bargained for.

MC did not exist in Liam’s social season. OC Riley Brooks lives in Las Vegas.

A/N: No wacky drabble for this one. Went a wee bit over and couldn’t cut. Oh well...there’s always next time. This is an 18+ series.

A/N: The lyrics to the song Maxwell sings comes from a Tik Tok video that was shared with me and the idea to include it in this is not my own hahahaha I will post the link to the video in comments to give the maker proper credit and just in case anyone wants to actually watch it. I thought it was funny..

Thanks @burnsoslow for beta reading and all of my lovely pre-readers.

Warning: Mention of STD’s

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All Riley wanted to do was go home, take a hot shower, snuggle up in a blanket on the couch with a Lifetime movie, and carry on with the rest of her life. 

She'd had this crazy but exciting night out with a fantastic guy. They had a little too much to drink and woke up the next morning to find they were married to each other.  

And she wasn't just married to anyone. No, it had to be the King of a small European country she'd never heard of before. 

That's not something that just happened to everyone. 

Depending on how one viewed her circumstances she was either the luckiest or unluckiest woman in all of Vegas. 

If she were a betting person, she'd place money on the latter.

Riley stood at the penthouse door, engaged in a stare down with the blonde-haired obstacle blocking the exit. 

In front of her was a woman wearing a black and white fur coat, a strand of pearls that hung loosely around her neck, and an impudent scowl. 

If evil were a lady, Riley surmised she was looking at her.

Madeleine's green eyes bore agitation and scorn as she studied the petite figure she recognized from the dozens of photos that bombarded her text messages. 

"You must be the bimbo who thinks she will steal my crown and title."

"Excuse me?" Riley's eyes narrowed, not knowing who she was speaking to, but could already tell she didn’t care to know.

Leo stepped up protectively behind Riley and growled at the countess. "Go away, Madeleine! How many times do we have to tell you the dalmatians aren't for sale?"

"You wish I were here for dalmatians," Madeleine sneered. "Now, out of my way, heathens." 

She pushed her way past the two and stalked inside while Mara shuffled behind. She removed her cashmere gloves and took notice of her fiance with his back pressed against the bar top, one legs crossed over the other, and sipping casually on his scotch.

Liam tipped the glass to his lips as if he didn't have a care in the world and swallowed. "Can I offer you a glass of wine, dear? Or a cronut? Perhaps a ride to the middle of the desert to be left for dead?"

"That's quite alright," Madeleine quipped as she ripped the glass out of Liam's hand and slammed it down on the bar. "But maybe you'd like to first explain why I have been inundated with one message after the next telling me you were married to this ..." She motioned her hand toward Riley with derision. "This ... bitch?"

Liam paused as if he were thinking about it, then shook his head. "No. Not really." She's not a bitch ... she's amazing. He wondered why he couldn't say that out loud.

Stunned, Riley looked up at Leo in disbelief. "Did she really just call me a bitch? She doesn't even know me."

Leo nodded with a compassionate smile on his face, then pulled her further inside and shut the door. 

He wasn't about to let her go now.

Liam grabbed his drink, pushed himself off the bar, and strolled to the center of the room. He could feel Madeleine's icy glare following his every movement. The King hoped his flippant attitude was enough to penetrate deep into her frozen exterior and piss her off even more. "I thought you were in New York, Mads. 8 million people in that city for you to torment, and you still make time to hop on your broomstick and find me. I have to say … I'm touched."

Madeleine shot him a dirty look. "Do you have any idea what I've been through because of what you did last night?"

He shrugged. "Nope, and I don't care."

"Well, you're going to care when I tell you everything that happened." She disregarded the audible groan and eye roll from him as she began her diatribe of offenses. "I had just settled in for the night when I get a message from that simpleton, Penelope, telling me what you did. I tried to call you, but apparently, you and the rest of your entourage of losers blocked my number. So I had this incompetent boob of a guard you hired for me book the first flight out here.

“When I got to JFK, I was detained and strip-searched because someone falsely alerted authorities claiming I was a Colombian drug lord, only in the U.S. to sell cocaine and hypodermic needles to children --"

Leo snorted. 

Liam curled his lips into a devilish grin, knowing exactly who did it. He glanced subtly to Mara, who winked back at him.

"Are you even listening to me, Liam? As if that nightmare wasn't horrid enough, I find out Mara booked coach class … COACH! Coach is so beneath someone like me. There were babies and old people and sodas. But the worst was when we finally arrived here; they strip-searched me again. I had to get my own baggage and ride in one of those god-awful smelly shuttle vans to this hotel. And do you know why I had to do all of that? Because you're a complete moron, Liam. The people of Cordonia are laughing at you; you know that, right? I always knew you would be a total embarrassment and fuck up, but this is beyond anything I imagined."

A downcast expression was plastered on Liam's face as he stared down at the drink in his shaky hand. Those words stung -- “a total embarrassment and fuck up.” In his mind, he felt she was right. He had let down even his own expectation of himself and the reputation of the monarchy.

There was nothing to do but stand there and stew in silence.

But Riley wouldn’t.

She shrugged Leo's hand from her shoulder and spun Madeleine around by the arm to face her. "Is this what you do? You go around insulting everyone and being a first-class bitch? I will have you know, Liam is not any of those things. He's the kindest, sweetest man I've ever met. And it's no wonder he looked so miserable last night at the club. I couldn't understand why at first, but now ... now it all makes sense. Did you ever stop to think that maybe if you weren't such a fucking cunt, he wouldn't have been drinking so much and been so willing to accept the company of another woman?"

Liam felt his heart twinge. Riley had every right to be upset with him, and he felt guilty for putting her in this situation. But there she was, defending him. God, she was hot.

Madeleine guffawed. "How cute. You've got your little whore taking up for you now."

"That's enough!" Liam's eyes landed sharply on her. Before he could stop himself, the next few words sprang from his lips as naturally as his breath. "You will not speak to my wife -- your Queen -- like that again, or so help me I will charge you where you stand for treason against the Crown. Do I make myself clear?"

Riley's eyes rounded, unsure of what to say or do at that moment.

Leo loudly cheered and pumped his fist in the air. 

Liam stood his ground as he glowered back at his slack-jawed, now ex-fiancee.

Madeleine couldn't believe what she was hearing. "You can't be serious? We are getting married in two weeks. I'm going to be the Queen!" Her tone was one of anger and desperation.

He laughed wryly in her face. "Not anymore." 

He looked past a stunned Madeleine to the heedless guard smirking behind her. "Mara, please see to it that the countess returns to the airport and doesn't disturb us again."

She agreed and led a vociferously-protesting Madeleine toward the doorway.

"You'll regret this, Liam. You'll both pay for this travesty!" 

"Use the taser on her, Mara!" Leo bounced with excitement as he followed them and opened the door. He handed the guard a $100 bill as she walked by and whispered, "Make sure they strip search her again. A bonus if they need double gloves and lube."

"You got it, boss."

Leo slammed the door and clapped. "Ding-dong, the witch is gone! So. Do you need help packing, sis? We still have a couple of hours before we go back to Cordonia. That should be enough time to gather some things."

Riley stammered, looking between the two men, completely dumbfounded by what just took place.

Liam noticed. He knew what he said to Madeleine about her being his wife and Queen was most likely awkward for her. 

They didn't know each other; it was a fact, he continued to remind himself.

Liam rubbed the back of his neck, unsure of what to say. "Uh, Riley ... I just want you to know ... I only said that stuff because of Madeleine ..."

"Oh, yes. Of course. I knew that." She chuckled nervously and waved her hand. "But what about your engagement?"

"Yeah, Liam. You gotta have a queen." Leo clapped the back of one hand against the palm of the other and exclaimed, "Dem's da rules."

Liam shook his head and carried his empty glass to the open kitchen. "I know that, Leo. But I will not ask Riley to give up her life here just to help me clean up my mess. She deserves better than that."

Riley crossed her arms on the counter that looked into the kitchen, watching Liam get a bottled water from the fridge. "What happens if you don't have a Queen?"

Liam twisted the cap and gave a half-shrug. "I don't have a choice. I'll have to marry Madeleine." The words stung his lips.

"But she's so pissed at you right now."

He chuckled. "That won't stop her. She wants the crown, and that's it."

Riley could see the sadness in his eyes, the same sadness she saw last night in the club where they first met. "You'll be miserable with her, though," she muttered wistfully.

He nodded, regret written on his face. "Yeah."

Riley stood silent; she weighed the pros and cons of such a massive uprooting.  Her life had been slightly stalled and bland for the last few years. Las Vegas was her getaway to a new life from New York, where she left behind both regrets and failed relationships. And yet ... this new place wasn't everything she told herself it would be.

She looked at Liam and felt her heart break. She understood him more than he realized. 

But ... to be a Queen?

Riley inhaled deeply and prepared to speak up when Liam's phone rang.

He placed the cap on his water, sat it on the counter, and lifted his phone from the pocket of his shorts. "It's Maxwell," he called out.

Leo rushed to him. "Put it on speaker, Li!"

"Maxwell, I have you on speaker. Leo and Riley are with me. How's Drake?"

"He's in the pharmacy, and I'm standing outside getting air. It's going to take a while to amass all the medication and creams he needs."

The brothers looked at each other with wide eyes. Riley covered her mouth to prevent the chuckle that threatened to escape. "I think I'll give you guys some privacy. I'll just be in the bathroom."

Liam nodded and turned his attention back to the call. "Is it really that bad, Max? I mean, I think we know what he has."

"Dudes, I don't think you can even begin to guess half the shit Drake's got."

"You gotta tell us what the Drakester has, Max."

"I'm not really supposed to say." 

They could hear the hesitation in his voice. It was almost like he wanted to tell them, but needed a little more coaxing.

"Maxwell," Liam spoke. "If Drake doesn't want us to know, then you should probably keep it to yourself ... for now."

"I did kind of write a song about everything he was diagnosed with for a TikTok video. Drake only said not to tell anyone. He never said I couldn't sing about it."

Leo nodded his head. "Agreed. Sing that song, Beaumont."

They could hear Maxwell shuffle further away from what sounded like a crowded street. 

"Okay, the coast is clear," Maxwell said as he took a deep breath. The boys hugged their ears against Liam's cell phone. 

"Drake just left the clinic, and I'm afraid its bad news. 

So now I'm singing this song about it hoping it gets views. 

Don't know how he's still alive. 

Or how he survived. 

The doctor said he's got five ... nasty STIs. 

He's got some in his balls … got some in his ass.

And what's worse is his curly pubes are crawling with crabs. 

He's got herpes! From a booty call! 

He's got syphilis …now his dick is raw.

He's got chlamydia … And it's so sore.

And he doesn't even know where he got genital warts." 

Liam pressed two fingers into both sides of his temples while he stared blankly at his phone. "Un - believable."

Leo swiped the tears from his eyes and made no attempts to hide the giant smile curling his lips or his overwhelming giddiness. "I've never been more proud of the Drakester than I am at this moment. He actually beat me out on this one. Gotta say ... I don't mind losing to him this time."

“Liam. Leo. I gotta go; Drake’s on his way out. See ya back at the hotel.”

Leo went to the refrigerator to search for a snack, pulling out a leftover pizza. “Ya know, we should probably warn the maid she may need to get a haz-mat team before cleaning Drake’s room.”

Riley rounded the corner. “I hope everything is okay with your friend.”

Liam smiled. “That’s very kind of you say. He’ll be fine … I think.”

She fidgeted with her bracelet and glanced over at Leo placing a slice of cold pizza on top of another slice and taking a large bite. “Leo, I hate to ask while you’re eating … again. But would you mind if I spoke to your brother for a moment? Privately.”

Leo chewed quickly while shaking his head. He swallowed hard. “Sure. I needed to use the shitter, anyway. Pinquee Kittee’s casserole isn’t sitting too well in the Leo tummy.” He grabbed the pizza box and headed for the bathroom.

Liam looked curiously at Riley, not able to read her expression or have any clue what she would want to talk about. “You needed to speak with me?”

She nodded. “Yeah. About our marriage ...”

[echo-three-one]

Whatever It Takes : RELOADED

Abducted in a decent hotel room. That's the summary.

Table of Contents

Previous Chapter : Lurking in the Shadows

Chapter 19 to another story made by Ray (echo-three-one) Comments and Reviews appreciated! I hope you enjoy! Love you all ❤️

forgive the piccrew ;-;

Vlad the Janitor

Samantha Coleman

Happy Traveler Inn - Room 240

Moscow, Russia

"Room Service!" Someone knocked at the door and something in Russian followed. Samantha assumed it's the same thing but in Russian. She carefully eyed the three men whom she knew were secretly armed. They were members of Shepherd's secret force, the one he calls "Shadow Company".

She's tired of being held hostage, she just wanted to live a normal life. And if Alex was correct, she can't believe that she chose to forget him just to get another shot at a normal life. She felt stupid. And she actually missed him. Even with all the jumbled and altered memories, her heart reacted to his presence.

The three abductors looked at her threateningly as the janitors entered. She knew she wasn't supposed to act suspicious or she's dead.

"We don't need cleaning!" One exclaimed as he shoved the janitor to the door, out of surprise the two janitors immediately grabbed mops and brooms and began fighting the abductors.

Samantha described it as a scene straight out of the movies, the trio worked together, hitting enemies until they were knocked down by severe hits in the head. They quickly disarmed and bound the abductors.

The tall janitor approached her, his eyes felt familiar but Samantha was reluctant to accept help. She eyed his name tag which said "Hello I'm VLAD"

"Thanks, Vlad?" She guessed, Vlad quickly removed his hat and face mask.

"Aw come on, Samantha. It's me!" Alex smiled, behind him, Roach and Soap stood and looked happy to see her.

Samantha's heart skipped a beat. She was right. He did go to the ends of the world for her multiple times. That meant that whatever they shared back on her memory lapses were far too significant for him. She hugged him tight and he reciprocated it quickly. She wanted to kiss him already but in their situation, it was better to keep it for later.

"Here you go, Alex." Soap tossed him the abductor's uniform as they quickly changed from janitors to bodyguards as they escorted her back to safety.

"Ghost this is Alex. The package is secure. Prepare for exfil."

"Roger that, pal." He replied as they effortlessly exited the hotel, leaving a message to Shepherd that he should not mess with them.

The elevator ride was the most awkward place for Samantha. The tension between her and Alex were reaching new heights. Their eye contacts felt more intense and small grazes from their hands felt like small jolts of electricity. Her heart raced so fast that she bit her lip.

"Thanks for saving me guys. For a second I thought you were never going to find me." She breathed as Alex slowly locked his hand on hers. She felt her cheeks warm up as his touch sent her on an ecstatic feeling. Was he really like this to her?

"You're still our priority, Samantha. Disbanded or not." Roach grinned as the elevator dinged upon reaching the Parking lot. In front of them was Price, driving the van and Ghost slowly sliding the door open.

"Welcome back, Samantha." The masked man greeted them as they entered the vehicle.

~

Safe House 110197

Brazil

Alex somewhat expected familiarity or nostalgia from Samantha, but all she remembered was the name of the safehouse. The number combination was somewhat familiar. She felt guilty and frustrated once she stepped foot on the house, as none of the items rang something from her memory while Alex took effort in recalling everything they did during their stay there, things that Samantha didn't expect she'd do but wanted to feel all over again.

Amidst the stress of the things happening around them, Maxine and Francine were getting along as they prepared a little feast once they heard that Samantha's on the way here. Maxine cried as she hugged her best friend and Samantha couldn't help but also shed tears.

"I missed you. Are you okay? Did they hurt you?" She asked, those same words also came out of Alex's mouth earlier, guess she was that important to the two of them?

"I'm fine, Max. They didn't hurt me or anything. Shepherd was actually out to use me as a bargaining chip so that my Dad would help him." The room fell silent. This was what they needed to hear. Intel.

Before lunch was even served, they already gathered around the dinner table. Alex finally sat beside Samantha, and that meant Ghost was the only one without a partner.

Samantha discussed the case at hand. How Shepherd would give Nero an IP Address in exchange for blueprints of an EMP Nuke. He'll then use such machinery to combat Nero's assault as well as avenge 30,000 of his defeated troops in Afghanistan. He also has his own elite troop called Shadow Company, which were trained the same way as the 141, but they had strength in numbers.

The rest of the evening was devastating. Now that they had information on Shepherd, Price and Jack started to call in some favors and prepared for the best window to fight back. Ghost got a text from Agent Ryder of interpol that she was too late to stop the trade of funds and now Shepherd has put the remaining 141 as most wanted people. Laswell also called Price that the initial plan of creating a task force was not going to work considering they're already fugitives and they should be more careful outdoors. Everyone else looked like they saw this one coming, they already knew the risks of the things they've done and proceeded to live their lives.

Samantha caught a glimpse of Max and Roach sprinkling each other water while washing the dishes, Soap and France arguing about how the word 'whimsy' was supposed to be used in a sentence and Ghost was always on his command center. She felt that she was never gone.

"How are you holding up, Love?" Alex plopped beside her, giving her a glass of water. Samantha smiled and raised her eyebrows.

"I don't remember you calling me that." She questioned, as she noticed the faint smell of Alex that she began to admire.

"Of course you don't. That's why I'm helping you." he grinned, tucking her hair behind her ear. She giggled and inhaled once more.

"You smell good today… Are you still trying to win my heart? I thought you already did." She mused, blushing as she ran a hand across his strong inked arms. She was always scared of heavily tattooed men, but this guy was an exception to the rule.

"Well, I wore clothes from two different people today… so… but nevermind that reason. Is it working? To you…? Are you… smitten?" He wiggled his eyebrows in an attempt to be seductive and Samantha just laughed. Was it possible to fall in love with a guy whom you already love? If so, then she's all for it.

"I can't say for sure, Vlad." She teased as he quickly fished his wallet, revealing a letter inside a small ziploc container. He gave it to Samantha as she uncrumpled it and started to read the contents.

"What's this?" she asked, looking at her own writing, she started to feel scared and nervous about the letter.

"You left that note to me before you forgot me… I tried to keep it for as long as I could, to the point that I almost wanted to throw it away." he held her hand while she held the letter.

"My Dearest Alex…" She spoke softly. Her hands began to tremble as he gently tightened his grip on her, making her feel more at ease.

"...In a span of three weeks, you managed to make me feel love once again. You allowed me to realize that even after a horrible loss, I could still open my heart and feel the joy of falling in love." This was clearly her creation, she slowly turned to Alex as he smiled and nodded his head to continue.

"...I always told myself that no matter how painful it is, I'll never forget your face, your smile, your eyes and all those memories we shared together. I actually convinced myself that we were a happily married couple back in that safehouse, an illusion I made because my heart felt like it. It was a good feeling, and I want to thank you for it." She leaned on his shoulders, looked at him once more and mouthed "Sorry".

"It looked like I forgot…" tears started to well on her eyes and Alex smiled. He wasn't the crying type but his eyes were already starting to get wet.

"I can't help but think about a lot of things, one being that if we were destined to meet and not end up together, it would be better if I don't meet you at all. I'm sorry to say this but I do love you so much and I know I promised, but I think my heart couldn't carry the idea of you existing and not within my grasp. It's utterly heartbreaking." she sobbed, hot tears fell from her cheek and Alex immediately wiped them off with his thumbs as she continued reading, her voice was shaky.

"So, your office offered me a chance to alter my memories of meeting you, along with the memory that made Nero look for me. You were on a briefing and I wanted to talk to you personally, maybe feel your warmth one last time. I'd want to kiss you too, but I guess the world didn't want that to happen." She looked at Alex one more time, then their lips met, it was a small peck, their lips immediately parted upon contact. She looked back at her letter"

"So I took the offer, and by the time you read this, I'm already on my way home to resume the life I've lost. I'm sure Maxine misses me right now...

I know you'll agree to this because I feel you always want what's best for me. If our paths would cross again, I hope you'll remember me the way I remembered you before I take this operation, A good memory that's supposed to last forever.

Apologizing in advance if I don't remember you anymore.

Don't you dare forget about me,

- Samantha" Teardrops splattered across the paper as she folded it and reached for Alex's mouth, this time they went all out. Like teenagers who shared their first french kiss, sloppy, needy yet satisfying. They didn't care about their surroundings. All they both cares about was that they were within each other's grasp after a very long time.

"I guess you kept my word. You never forgot me…" She exhaled as they broke the kiss.

"It's because I can't… and I told myself that I won't." Alex replied as they kissed once again. This time, they could hear Maxine and Roach cheering in the background.

"Geez! Get a room you two!" A loud Scottish yell was heard from the distance. But despite all the noise, the two of them didn't mind.

~

Samantha was brushing her teeth when Alex snuck up from behind, wrapping his arms around her. She remembered how she admitted to the letter that they acted like a married couple, maybe this was always their thing for weeks. She was happy as they both swayed harmoniously, looking at the most handsome man in the world, hugging her.

"Do hmm haa hoo heemmmi hoo?" She mumbled while her hands brushed her teeth.

"We don't. But if we had one what would you think it'd be?" Alex mused, turning to her. He already knew what she meant despite it being inaudible. She spat the contents of her mouth and finished brushing her teeth before turning to him, all while still under his warm embrace.

"Have you heard of Way Back into Love?" she asked, Alex's reaction was a very wholesome smile.

"Like from that movie? Yeah." he chuckled, minty breath traveled to her nostrils.

"All I want to do is find a way back into love…" she sang softly, her singing voice made Alex smile.

"I can't make it through without a way back into love…" Alex sang or more specifically, said the words near the tune. Samantha giggled as they swayed to their little song.

"And if I open my heart again

I guess I'm hoping you'll be there for me in the end" They sang together, Samantha doing it in tune while Alex sounded like he's narrating the song. They both were spinning around on the small area in front of the sink, enjoying the moments that they were together once again. Samantha wishing that she'll never get separated from Alex ever again.

Next Chapter : Undying Admiration

Notification Squad my Beloved

@enderio @whimsywispsblog @beemybee @samatedeansbroccoli @smokeywhalee @ricinbach

[bookstantrash]

A/N: I preordered ACOSF yesterday and I’ve been living in a happy Nessian bubble and decided to take all that energy and write something.

Today is Freddie Mercury’s death anniversary so I thought about taking my favorite headcanon of Nesta being a great singer and have her sing one of Queen’s masterpieces. This is a humble tribute of mine to the great musician and amazing person that Mercury was. May he rest in peace and his legacy live on forever.

Somebody to Love

There are said to be five steps for overcoming grief.

Denial.

Anger.

Bargaining.

Depression.

And acceptance.

Nesta had gone through all of them after her father’s death. She had spent a lot time feeling angry, and her depression was finally getting better after she started seeing a psychologist. Her sisters support had also been vital.

Those same steps could also be applied after a breakup. And that was exactly what Nesta was going through.

However, she was proud to say that after three days of being single, she had only gone through two steps: anger and acceptance.

At least that was what she was trying to convince her sisters and Emerie of.

“I’m fine, El” Nesta repeated for what was the umpteenth time in the past five minutes “It was his loss. I’m much better off alone.”

“Nesta, if you’d only talk to us so we could understand” Elain replied, frustrated by her older sister’s headstrong behaviour.

Because Nesta Archeron had only sent a text that afternoon informing her two sisters that she had called quits at her almost three year relationship with Cassian and dragged them to the karaoke bar. No explanations offered.

“There’s nothing to talk about” Nesta said, taking a sip of her margarita “Oh look! Emerie is coming back, that means it’s my turn”

Feyre and Elain exchanged a worried look, something Nesta didn’t fail to notice before she pumped Emerie’s shoulder playfully while she made her way to the small stage. Emerie only gave her a weak smile, worry also shinning in her eyes.

Nesta Archeron was far from fine. But she didn’t want to worry her sisters. Or admit that to herself.

She was over Cassian. And being here, on the place where they had shared their most precious memories, was the sign that she was taking this place back.

It would be her place. This was an act of burying for good the memories of Cassian.

She would allow herself to think about him this one last time. One last song.

About them. About her feelings.

Stopping in front of the microphone, Nesta sang.

Love of my life, you've hurt me

You've broken my heart and now you leave me

Nesta was nearing her new book’s deadline, so she had locked herself in her apartment and forbidden Cassian from visiting.

“You distract me too much” she had said while she tried to finished the paragraph she was writing, Cassian coming behind her to nuzzle his nose in her neck, promptly making her forget about everything but his touch on her skin.

“You like when I distract you” he had murmured, slowly kissing her neck.

She didn’t do much work on that day. But after that Cassian made a promise to stay away for the week.

Love of my life, can't you see?

Bring it back, bring it back

Nesta finished three days before her deadline. She had had a sudden burst of inspiration and wrote all through the night. So she had thought of surprising Cassian with some homemade food.

Nesta was on her way to his house after her shopping when she saw a familiar man bun in the sidewalk.

She was thinking about honking to gather his attention — they could go back to his place together and cut the surprise short — when she noticed that he was not alone.

Don't take it away from me, because you don't know

What it means to me

There was a blonde woman with him. A very very pretty woman. The kind that you saw on magazines covers. And the way Cassian was looking at her.... it made Nesta’s heart clench.

Cassian hadn’t smiled at her like that for some time. He always looked nervous and about to say something whenever they met, but she had brushed it off.

But maybe... maybe he was trying to say something. Maybe he was trying to say that he had found someone else.

Maybe the blonde woman that hanged on his arm.

Love of my life, don't leave me

You've stolen my love, you now desert me

Nesta had driven back to her apartment in autopilot. She had a loud ringing in her ears and her body was all cold.

Deep down she knew that Cassian would break up with her. She was not the easiest person out there, while Cassian.... he was loved by everyone. He deserved better.

So she broke up with him before he did the same with her.

Through a message. A simple message.

‘I can’t do this anymore. We’re over. Don’t come to my apartment or my life ever again’

Love of my life, can't you see?

Bring it back, bring it back

Nesta had blocked his contact from her phone. Left her apartment and went to the first place she could think of: Emerie’s.

Her best friend was surprised to see her, and Nesta spilled everything to her amidst tears.

She spent the rest of the day crying over wine and ice cream.

The next day , Nesta woke up with an horrible headache. And anger that burned so hot it threatened to destroy her.

Don't take it away from me

Because you don't know

What it means to me

She had cursed Cassian till the end of his bloodline, and decided that never again would give anyone the key to her heart.

Emerie tried to convince her to allow Cassian to explain himself.

“He left me over twenty messages Nesta!” Emerie had argued “He has been calling nonstop!”

“I have no time to hear his excuses” she spat back, clenching her fists “I saw him with my own eyes”

You will remember

When this is blown over

Everything's all by the way

Emerie had just sighed in defeat.

And by the third day Nesta had made up her mind to forget she even knew Cassian.

She messaged her sisters — which had been worried sick about her, given that he had also contacted them — and they met at the karaoke.

Their karaoke.

When I grow older

I will be there at your side to remind you

How I still love you (I still love you)

Their first date spot.

Their first kiss.

Where he had asked her to be his girlfriend.

I still love you

Nesta felt silent tears running down her cheeks. She hoped the poor illumination helped conceal them.

She was nearing the end of the song when she felt a gaze on her, what shouldn’t be a surprise given that she was singing in front of the whole bar.

Yet she knew that gaze.

A gaze that made her stomach flutter.

A gaze that made her knees weak.

Oh, hurry back, hurry back

Don't take it away from me

You don't know what it means to me

Cassian.

She was going to bloody murder Feyre. She had asked them not to tell where she was. But Feyre was never known for keeping a secret. And she did go out with Cassian’s best friend and surrogate brother, Rhysand.

Love of my life

Love of my life

Nesta had barely sung the last note when she stormed off the stage and started to fight with Feyre.

“How could you! I asked you not to say a word about where I was!” she didn’t know how, but she managed not to scream, only whisper yell at her surprised sister.

“I— Nesta I didn’t say a word! I swear I don’t know how he got here!” Feyre said, hurt in her eyes.

Nesta dared to glance at him. What only made her anger soar even higher.

For he had not come alone.

No, he had come with companions of his own.

Rhysand, Azriel, Amren, the blonde woman from before and a redhead she had never seen.

“How could he! How could he bring her here!” Nesta felt tears come to her eyes again.

She needed to leave before she had a mental breakdown in front of the whole bar.

‘So much for being over Cassian’ she bitterly thought.

“Nesta, what are you talking about?” Feyre asked, grabbing her shoulders.

“S-she! The blonde beside him!”

“But Nesta—”

“I don’t wanna hear it!” she cried, brushing Feyre’s hands off of her

“Nesta—” Emerie began.

“I’m leaving. You girls have fun” Nesta made to grab her purse while Feyre and Emerie in vain tried to talk with her.

But it was Elain — who had been awfully quiet — that caught her attention.

“You should really see this Nesta” Elain said, her voice laced with curiosity.

“What? I already said that—” she stopped herself mid sentence, her heart skipping a beat.

Because Cassian was on the stage.

And he was looking at her.

“Nesta Archeron?” he called, his deep voice resonating all through the bar.

Nesta could only nod in response, momentarily frozen in place.

“This song is for you”

•

Tags: @sayosdreams @thewayshedreamed @sjm-things @perseusannabeth @arin1030-blog @caotica-e-quieta @vidalinav @swankii-art-teacher @ireallyshouldsleeprn @duskandstarlight @greerlunna @thegoddessaltenia @dayanna-hatter @verypaleninja

{Please let me know if you’d like to be added to my tag list}

[blouisparadise]

Although most of us aren’t able to go on vacation at the moment, we hope this rec list will make everyone feel a bit better than that. Upon request, here is a rec list of bottom Louis fics where Harry, Louis, or both boys go on vacation at some point during the fic. Happy reading!

1) This Is Where I Sleep | Explicit | 3678 words

Harry and Louis go camping while on break and make some memories.

2) Under the Vanilla Sky | Explicit | 8006 words

Who the hell wears a hat like that on a yacht?  That's one of the things Louis thinks when he sees Harry from across the deck of the most expensive, ridiculous boat he's ever been on.  He also thinks he'd like to get closer.  Just to see what's under those aviators.  Just to verify that, yes, in fact, those white swim trunks might be a little see-through when wet.  Just to see if someone could really be that hot in real life.  On a yacht.  In the Caribbean sea just off the coast of St. Barts.  

Here's what really happened on that yacht.

Or, my opinion, at least.

3) Rather This Than Live Without You | Explicit | 10715 words

Harry decides to give it all up. Louis refuses to be left behind.

4) Ready To Run | Explicit | 11940 words

After being left at the alter by his boyfriend of five years, Louis goes on a vacation to try and clear his head and fill the empty spaces in his heart. On the way, he meets a new group of life-long friends, and maybe a little more than that.

5) I Know You Have A Heavy Heart (I Can Feel It When We Kiss) | Explicit | 14489 words | Sequel

In which Louis is spending New Year’s alone in France but he’s definitely not running away, and Harry is a french florist with an ever present smile who cares a lot. They meet a cold night in the outskirts of Paris.

6) Don’t Put Out The Glow | Not Rated | 15007 words

"He fists out a pair of skinny jeans and a plain black tee. Nothing wrong there. Then he sees an atrocious Hawaiian shirt in Zayn’s hand and he starts digging through the bag urgently, pulling out more and more items that don’t belong to him."

7) Pleasure Over Matter | Explicit | 152014 words

Harry is a bit out of his element, and an unsuspecting stranger provides him temporary relief.

8) All I Want Is To Fall With You | Mature | 16254 words

The weekend ski trip where omega Louis discovers that he can’t change a tire and his skiing skills are debatable but still manages to find the alpha who will change his life.

9) Some Flowers In Your Hair | Explicit | 23015 words

A magical camping AU in which Louis is jealous of Harry's magic, Liam's a little too enthusiastic about surviving in the wilderness, and Niall might have misunderstood the rules.

10) Force of Nature | Mature | 25672 words

Louis is a shy, young musician who doesn't want to go to Harvard.

Harry is a confident,  second year athlete who likes to have a good time.

When their paths cross while their families are vacationing at the same lake resort, what begins as a summer of fun becomes a defining journey that might just change everything.

11) A Trail Of Honey Through It All | Explicit | 27085 words

The boy in front of him, well really, the man in front of him, was like something out of a confusing wet dream. Built, tall, tan and muscular, his skin glistened with sweat after a long day of working outdoors with his hands. He was wearing a cut up old American football shirt, the bottom hem was torn and the sleeves were cut off to the point where the t-shirt was really just a loose tank top. The shorts he had on had clearly been full length jeans at one point, and were now just crudely cut off above the knee. His white socks were pulled up too high on his calves, and the brown work boots he had on were old as fuck, the leather peeling along the edges of the soles. Curly brown hair stuck out from the edges of his backwards snapback, and there was a smudge of grease wiped along his brow bone. The smattering of hair along his jaw proved that he hadn’t shaved in a week or two, the hair growing in thicker across his upper lip and around his chin. His sinfully bowed mouth was pink and plump, and Louis was suddenly hyper-focused on the way that he chewed at the toothpick stuck between his lips. He looked like he needed a shower. Louis wanted to lick him.

12) Rivers ‘Til I Reach You | Explicit | 29315 words

AU. Louis studies astronomy; Harry studies Louis. They spend their summers on the water and it shouldn't be complicated (spoiler: it is).

13) The List | Mature | 32094 words

'In the weeks that follow, Harry opens his old journal more than he has in the past two years each time he remembers Venice or thinks about Louis. He always flips to the same random page in the middle of the book, marked by the picture of himself that Louis sent him a few days after they got home. There’s a message on the back that says, ‘Spontaneous looks good on you! See you soon,’ and it makes Harry’s chest warm each time he reads it. He wedges their list out from between the worn pages, and it feels silly staring down at a folded up piece of paper with a strange sense of nostalgia for experiences they’ve yet to have; for places they’ve never even been.'

14) (Your Heartbeat) Rang True Inside My Bones | Explicit | 32945 words

Harry goes as Louis' date for a weekend wedding. He ends up taking the role a bit too seriously.

15) Let Me Feel Your Heartbeat | Explicit | 34572 words

Harry is 98% sure Louis hates him. So he feels like his bewilderment is justified when the omega offers to help him through his rut.

16) And Touch Me Like You | Explicit | 35971 words

The one where Harry and Louis agree to be each other's New Year's kiss and it ends up being a lot more than they bargained for.

17) A Red-Dusted Planet | Explicit | 38265 words

A one-night stand in a small town in Australia turns into a weekend that Harry could've never predicted with a boy he may never forget.

18) A Rhythm In Rush | Explicit | 40010 words

Harry is a WWF journalist with big dreams and Louis is a glaciologist that flies helicopters for fun. Greenland is an odd place to spend Christmas, but just maybe, the perfect place to fall headfirst into love.

19) Nobody Does It Like You | Not Rated | 58520 words

Louis isn't looking for a home, but he finds one in Harry.

20) Waiting For The Tides To Meet | Explicit | 59873 words

Soulmate AU. Everyone is born with heterochromia — one eye is their own eye colour, while the other is the colour of their soulmate's. It's only when they meet their soulmate for the first time that their own eyes match properly. After a hazy night at a frat party, Louis wakes up to blue eyes and the shocking realization that he had met his soulmate, without any sober recollection. Seven years pass where Louis comes to terms with the fact that he'll never know who his soulmate is. Then one fated summer, a beautiful green-eyed photographer arrives at Louis' workplace, with promises of endless laughter and a familiar feeling in Louis' heart.

21) Tug-Of-War | Explicit | 63000

Louis' husband dies suddenly and he is left with nothing. Well, not really nothing. He has Harry. And a St. Bernard puppy named Link, whom his late husband left behind for him. Louis takes care of Link and Harry takes care of Louis. Everything is okay until suddenly, it isn't.

22) This Wicked Game | Explicit | 70010 words

An AU in which The Bachelor is gay, Louis is a contestant, Harry is the bachelor, everyone drinks a lot of champagne, the entire world gets to watch them fall in love, and no one plays by the rules.

23) Don’t Tell the Gods (We Left a Mess) | Explicit | 71556 words

After a misunderstanding with Liam’s mother, Louis agrees to accompany his best friend to a family wedding and pretend to be the world’s best boyfriend. But their simple plan goes awry when he learns that Harry, ex-boyfriend/ex-love of Louis’ life, will also be in attendance. (aka: fake!boyfriends with a twist ft. bromance, romance and cake.)

24) Perfect Storm | Explicit | 80230 words

What do you do when your best friend asks you and your (now) ex to be the best men at his destination wedding? You can either tell him the truth, tell him you’re not together anymore, and deal with the consequences, or you can pretend you’re still together and roll with it, just pray you don’t spiral. Fake it ‘til you make it. You know, for the sake of the wedding.

Harry and Louis choose the latter.

25) Nothing Worsens, Nothing Grows | Explicit | 102528 words

Another roadtrip au featuring Harry as the misunderstood hipster, Louis as the bitter psych major, Liam as the one with the secret boyfriend, and Niall as the one who just wants everyone to be happy.

Check out our other fic rec lists by category here and by title here.

[thorne93]

The Stars Made Us (Part 12)

Prompt: In this world, you’re one of the “lucky” ones who got a soulmate, but what if the universe gives you more than you bargained for?

(Prompt challenge – You live in a world where your soulmate can write on their skin and you will get the writing on your own and vice versa. Where they can wash away the ink on their own skin, however, the writing is forever scarred onto your skin until you meet face to face)

Word Count: 2671

Warnings: angst and language throughout

Notes: This was supposed to be for @sorryimacrapwriter​​​​  and their challenge like a year ago, I think? I still loved the prompt though and have been working on this story for quite some time. This aesthetic was made by @dontshootmespence​​​​, thank you so much! Beta’d by @like-a-bag-of-potatoes​​​​, couldn’t have done it without you, as well as @carryonmyswansong​​​​ and @arrow-guy​​​​ and @mrs-dragneel-stark-solo​​​​

Also, I’ve never really liked the whole soulmate AU thing idea, but this felt so right and it was amazing to write. I hope y’all love it too!!

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

“Y/N,” Charles started but you just glared at him before holding a finger up to silence him. Once you got it ordered you stuffed your phone back in your purse. 

“Y/N, please, I didn’t mean to slip up about the move,” he tried again. 

“We’ll talk about this when we aren’t on my parents front yard,” you responded with a calmed anger. 

Pretty soon, an uber was there to pick you up and take you to your home. You didn’t look at Charles once and you wondered if he was reading your mind. He promised he never would, but you two hadn’t argued like this before. 

Your luggage was set down and you were well prepared to just start boxing up what you could when Charles spoke again. 

“Please talk to me. You said we would talk about it later,” he begged. 

You slammed the books that you’d pulled off your shelf on the table. “I asked you to do one thing! One thing! They were already upset. We could’ve salvaged it. But you had to open your big mouth.” 

“It wasn’t on purpose! Besides, maybe if you had told your parents where you were and that we were coming it wouldn’t have been such a bomb to drop on them,” he countered.

“This is somehow my fault now?”

“No it’s not your fa--”

“It’s somehow my fault that you decided to throw the world’s biggest pity party and completely eradicate me from your life.” 

“I didn’t eradicate you, I thought about you every day,” he argued through clenched teeth.

“What a nice sentiment,” you hissed. “Did me a lot of good while I worried day and night if you were dead or alive!” 

Charles put his fingertips on his head before taking a deep breath. “Fine. You’re right. This isn’t your fault. Not alone anyway. I should’ve never cut you out the way I did, and you should’ve told your parents where you were and that we’d sorted our troubles out. Otherwise I look like the bad guy who fooled their daughter into loving him.” 

You wanted to argue. You were so mad. At Charles for what he did, for what he said, and at your parents for not just listening to you. Why didn’t they just trust you? You sighed internally. Because they didn’t know him like you did. Sure, you could explain all of his powers, all of the troubles he faced, all of the loss he’s had but couldn’t they just trust you? Charles didn’t need to be exposed and exploited like that just so your parents would understand he’d never do anything like that again. 

But you knew that he was right. Maybe if you’d called a month ago and explained everything, or at least told them he had a really rough year, they’d be more supportive of this. But as it stood, they only saw a man that hurt you deeply, and that you were perhaps too young or too love struck to see that he was really a charlatan, someone not to be trusted. Someone who would hurt you again. 

Like your dad said, this wasn’t some silly high school break up. You’d put all romance on hold, saving everything for Charles, the day you’d finally meet. He was your boyfriend, your longstanding love. So when he stopped responding, it was almost as bad as a divorce. A once integral part of your day had disappeared without a trace and no way for you to know why or how it had happened. 

But now he had no way to close you out. It would all be different now. If only you could make them understand. 

With that, hot tears streamed down your face and Charles rushed to envelope you in his arms. “There, there. It’ll all be alright,” he assured. 

You started to pull away. “I have packing to do,” you said through the lump in your throat. 

He tugged you back against him. “No, you don’t. You have to meet with your landlord and the realtor tomorrow. I’ll get this all boxed up for you while you’re gone. But right now you’re upset. I am sorry for what I said, truly. It was a stupid mistake. As far as your parents, we’ll get them to come around. You’re they’re only daughter. They love you and they’ll understand in time that things happen in relationships.” 

“You sure?” you asked, pressing your face into his shoulder.

“I’m positive,” he insisted, rubbing your back. “Why don’t you give me a grand tour to take your mind off things?” 

You nodded, stepping away to wipe your nose and face. “Well, this is the kitchen,” you said, walking into the open area behind the counter. “Not much to see except a mixer. I’ve got a truck load of pots, pans, molds, and baking supplies though,” you said as you walked to the pantry. When you opened the doors you heard Charles gasp. 

“That is a hell of a lot of kitchen utensils. I’m not sure we’ve got the room.” 

You smiled. “I’ll make room.” 

“This is your...office, I suppose?” he asked, gesturing to the dining area. The dining area was actually just a small breakfast table next to a large built in book case. The table was littered with books and notebooks. “I took you to be a lot more organized than this,” he tsked. 

“Oh, well excuse me for not having maids,” you retorted, making a sour face. 

He laughed. “Touchy, touchy. And the bedroom?” 

“Are you trying to be clever?” you asked with a cocked brow.

“No, but if it’s working, I’m certainly happy to be of service.” 

You rolled your eyes. “It’s not. Let me show you the bathroom. I redid it myself,” you boasted, taking his hand and leading him all around. You showed him every room, and he often asked about unique items you had. You showed up your patio and yard, sharing times you’d sat out there for hours sending him text messages. Every room, every foot was a memory soaked in Charles’s presence, whether he knew it or not. 

By the end of the evening, you two had fallen asleep in each other’s arms on top of the blankets in your room -- soon to be your old room.  

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

You stirred when the sun hit your eyes. You forgot to draw the shades closed last night. When you began to move, it woke Charles who groaned in the most adorable way. 

“Good morning,” you greeted in a warm voice. 

“Mmm, morning.” He rolled and kissed your head. “You ready for your day?” 

“I will be after six more hours of sleep,” you moaned, rolling into him. How magically blissful it was to wake up next to him.

He chuckled. “I guess we should start the day,” he suggested, reluctance in his voice. 

“You’re right.” And so the two of you got up, you grabbed a shower and Charles got dressed. While you were getting ready, you went over the plan for the day. “Okay, so I’m going to meet with the realtor, then I have to go meet my landlord -- shoot that reminds me I need to grab some boxes to box up my office. I’ll have to run and do that too.”

“And while you’re gone, I’ll box up the house,” he noted. 

“Thanks.”

“Any preference? Would you like all fragile things in one box, or how do you like it?” 

“However you think is best. I think I'd prefer to keep all the stuff organized by room.” 

“I’ll try my best,” he offered and you smiled at him in the mirror as you curled your hair and he began to brush his teeth. 

Once you two were all ready, you began your day. Charles started in the room you had the least amount of stuff in - the dining room. It was a dining table and a small chest filled with recipe books. You met with your landlord first for the office. You gave him the date you’d be gone and you two revised the lease agreement. Your lease wasn’t up for another few months but because you’d been a great tenant, he decided to let you close the agreement for the end of the month. 

After that, your stop was the realtor’s and she said she needed to come see your home. 

When you got home, Charles had only gotten one room completely packed and had started on the living room. 

“Ugh,” you groaned. “I really need to go through all this stuff. I’d hate to pack it, just to find out I need to throw it away when it gets there.” 

“We can always go through everything together,” he suggested.

“Actually, we need to clean. The realtor is coming over to give me a loose appraisal,” you sighed. “Guess we should order pizza and get started. I’ll start throwing stuff out tomorrow,” you conceded.

Charles nodded and you two began cleaning the kitchen like crazy. 

The night drug on, and around 11 pm, you finally called it quits. You’d scrubbed, brushed, dusted, mopped two rooms. The rest would have to wait until the morning. 

So it did. 

The next morning, you spent all day cleaning until the realtor arrived at 5, did a thorough walkthrough, showed you comparable homes in the area, then discussed how she worked. Once you agreed on a list price and her commission, she said she’d get the papers to you tomorrow. At that point, you began to go through old files in your office and books. You were surprised at how much you actually threw away. 

The next day, the realtor and your landlord had their paperwork ready to be signed. You headed into the city to sign the documents and box up your office. 

Shortly after you left though, Charles had a thought. He ordered an uber and took it all the way to your parents house.

When he arrived, he wasn’t entirely sure what he’d say. He had planned part of it, he’d been thinking about what to say ever since your parents had shown their disapproval. He’d practiced several speeches, gone over many mock conversations in his head, but now that he stood on the doorstep, he wasn’t sure anything he said would be right, or if he should even be here. 

He wondered that too -- if he was overstepping a boundary, talking to your parents when you hadn’t asked him to, but he knew how close you were to them and he didn’t want to see that end just because the two of you were in love. He felt he had a duty to try and mend things, make them understand if he could.

He took a deep breath and knocked on the door. When they answered, they weren’t overly hateful or cruel, but they weren’t exactly thrilled either. 

“Charles?” your mother, Tracy, greeted. “Where’s Y/N?” she asked, poking her head out a bit to peer around. 

“She’s not here, Mrs. Y/L/N, it’s just me. I was wondering if we could talk?” he inquired. He desperately wanted to use his powers but invading your parents privacy like that to gain an edge in this dispute felt wrong on many levels. No, he needed to fight this battle fair and square. 

Tracy eyed him up and down curiously before glancing to her husband, Frank. He bobbed his head side to side, falling into submission. She nodded and opened the door wider and stepped back to let Charles in. 

“So where is Y/N?” Frank asked, crossing his arms. 

“She’s signing papers. Putting the house up for sale and releasing her office.” 

“Ah,” Frank said, nodding his head in disbelief. “So why are you here?”

“If I may,” he offered, gesturing to the living room. The two of them nodded before leading him to the sitting area. He sat on the chair and they sat adjacent to him on the couch. “I...love your daughter. I know what I did was...awful. To be honest, I haven’t forgiven myself for how I treated her. She didn’t deserve that, at all.”

“No, she didn’t,” Frank agreed quickly and harshly. 

“I lost a dear friend. A girl I grew up with. She’s really like a sister to me, she was raised with me, my parents took her in when she had nowhere to go. She and I had an argument, a rather nasty fight, and she left with another man I called friend. I haven’t heard from them in over a year. On top of that, I started a school for special children, at my home. I completely renovated it to function as a school and boarding home. Only, after a semester I was met with so many threats and opposition, I had to close down the school, for the safe and sake of the children.”

Your parents shifted uncomfortably as they listened.

“On top of this, I was paralyzed. The friend that took my sister away… he accidentally shot me in the back, and left me paralyzed. I was only able to cope with the pain through a strong drug a very dear friend of mine created -- he’s a scientist, you see. He’s an engineer, a biochemist, he can do anything. He created a serum that helped me to walk and not feel pain, but my other… motor functions weren’t as good, my mind would be a bit foggy. So I could either be in pain, but have mental clarity, or numb it, as best I could. I chose to numb it, to numb out everything I’d lost. I have other friends who were lost to tragic accidents. I’m not asking you to give me an excuse. I don’t deserve one. Y/N deserved the truth. I should’ve told her that I was in a dark place and that it would be best if we didn’t talk. Honestly, sometimes I think if I’d just reached out to her, she would have saved me from myself, but I didn’t. I reclused into myself. I was a very, very depressed person and didn’t want to bring her down with me. I supposed that when I got better, I’d contact her and tell her everything… but I never got better. As time went on and I didn’t hear from my sister or my friend, I just got worse. I sunk into a hole that was...very hard to get out of.” 

“That’s all very sad,” Tracy offered, “but you hurt our daughter very deeply.”

“I know,” he agreed softly. “I just want you to know it wasn’t intentional.” 

“Intentional or not,” Frank began, “she reached out several times. She showed us she did, and you couldn’t even send her a message back.” 

All he could do was shrug. “As I said, I was in a dark place. However, I was also in a place to do it. She didn’t know my name, who I was, or how to contact me other than by text or email. It was easy to keep her away, to keep her at bay. But now, she knows me, I know her, and I can’t imagine life without her. I will do everything I can to make her as happy as she can possibly be,” he vowed. 

Tracy and Frank glanced at each other. 

“I don’t want Y/N to get hurt, but as long as she’ll have me, I’ll be there for her, by her side. It’s where I belong. The universe put us together for a reason,” he pleaded. 

However, they remained silent. Steadfast in their opposition of the relationship. 

“Just… something to think about. I’ll leave you to it. I’m sorry to interrupt your day,” he softly apologized as he stood. Tracy nodded and stood to show him to the door while Frank seemed to stare into nothingness. 

Charles had no idea if his words had any affect on them. He could have probed their mind but he felt that violated too much of their privacy. He wanted to do this the honorable way.

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

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Charles Xavier

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[sakurasangcl]

ethereal

pairing: Elf!Yukhei (Lucas) x Human!Reader

word count: 3.7k

genre: smut, mainly, with angst and fluff

plot: Because of a century old deal, you’re chosen as the bride of the Fey King. He turns out to be different than what you expected, and a lot more is asked of you than you would have originally thought. 

warnings: creampie, marking, spit, a little bit of spanking, you will catch feels

One hundred years ago, your town had made a deal with the fey. To willingly give them any female of their choice to wed the future king. Over the century, the town grew and those original families never left. Few girls of the proper age were left, and you were one of them. 

The date was set to be October 28th, when the agreement itself was originally made. The eligible females were left by the woods in an old, well kept building made specifically for this day. There were no locks on any doors nor windows in the one room building. There was a large fireplace to keep warm, along with sofas and chairs to lounge in.

You were in a white dress too sheer for your liking, with a blanket wrapped around you while you tended to the fire. The other girls gossiped over who they thought would be taken, and how they felt so lucky and were overjoyed to be there. You, however, just wanted to go home. After a while, some of the girls seemed to have quieted down; it was getting late and the moon was high in the sky. A yawn escaped you as you added more wood to the fire. You pushed a chair closer to the warmth and laid down in it, letting yourself drift off to a light sleep, briefly wondering if you should try to barricade yourself inside. 

You woke up with the fire having nearly gone out, and you felt a shiver of fear overtake you. A cold breeze lowers the temperature in the room, and you realize that the door is open. You open your eyes and move slowly, surveying the room. A large, humanoid creature was surveying the room, taking its time looking at each girl. Nearby, a girl coughs in her sleep. 

It turns its head and looks around you, and slowly walks in your direction. You pull the blanket around you, fear causing your heart to pound in your ears. You kept your breathing stead, trying to remain calm. You close your eyes and feign sleep, wanting it to pass you and leave you be. 

“I know you’re awake, Y/N,” a deep, undeniably masculine voice says. The hair on your arms stands up; he knows your name. He bends down, his face merely inches from yours. “Now, will you come willingly or must I use force?”

You don’t answer, but he takes your lack of movement for one. He scoops you up in his arms, and he's very warm. He makes sure the blanket is still wrapped around you, and he gently touches your forehead, rendering you unconscious. 

You slowly wake back up, and you notice how comfortable the bed you're laying in is. The sheets are soft and smell clean. Your eyes slowly open to the light, and you find yourself in a fairly barren room. As you slowly sit up, a very handsome man rushes over. His appearance was certainly ethereal and non human.

"Be careful, that spell can make a bear stay down. Easy," He says, obviously concerned for you as he places his hand on your back to help you sit up. "How are you feeling?" He asks, searching your eyes. 

You can't help but blush as you look away. "Fine, I suppose. I would rather be home," you say, finding a window to look outside. 

"Well… this is your new home. I hope you will learn to enjoy it," he says, standing up. "There is a bath waiting for you in the room over. I suggest you go now. Someone will bring you breakfast. There is a festival tonight that your presence is required at." He informs you, opening a door to the bathroom. 

"What kind of festival? I've not heard of one this time of year…" you ask, getting out of bed. "And who are you?" 

"Oh! I'm so sorry! My name is Yukhei, Wong Yukhei," Yukhei says. "I'm normally called Lucas, but please, call me Yukhei." 

As you get out of bed, he explains, “The festival is for us. There has to be a ritual so you can be with me.” Yukhei walks over and takes your hand, helping you stand. “Because we, as creatures of the fey, live longer, there is an ancient ritual that we must perform so you can stay with me as my wife.” 

You stumble at his words, and he effortlessly leads you to the bathroom, where hot water was waiting for you. You aren’t sure what to say, and it doesn’t bother him. 

“I’ll leave you here. I will see you tonight. Please, be careful and do not leave this building without me. It isn’t safe for you out there.” Yukhei warns you, kissing your knuckles before leaving you alone. 

Hours later, you’re dressed in a dress that seems to be made of pure moonlight. The silver reflects every light, and the dress both hugs your body and leaves room for easy movement. It has long, flowing sleeves and a slight train that follows you out of the room you learnt was to be your bedroom- shared with Yukhei, of course. 

You found him waiting by the front door, looking even more handsome in his suit. He has you hold onto one of his arms as he opens the door. 

"Whatever you do," Yukhei warns you, "don't let go of my arm and try not to look any of them in the eyes. If you get scared, just hold closer to me. I'm not only their leader, but a high elf. I'm stronger than them, so don't worry." 

You nod, not understanding why he was saying such silly things, but deciding to agree nonetheless. 

You walk through a brilliant garden, surprised at how many flowers were blooming even though it was not in them. Once you exited the main gate, many different types of creatures greeted you. Most seemed to be having fun, and were greeting you with bowing and murmurs of “your majesty.” You heard music the closer you got to the festival, and the creatures were both of your nightmares and dreams. 

All sorts of mythical creatures had gathered, from elves and faeries to oni and tengu, and other types of yokai. Your grip on Yukhei tightened as you made your way to the riverside. Lanterns lit your pathway, and Yukhei remained a steady guide so you wouldn’t trip. You stop by an empty basin, and the music fades away into the wind.

An elderly nekomata steps forward from the crowd, making its way to your feet. The two-tailed cat purrs and rubs itself against you, doing the same with Yukhei. 

“He is accepting you on behalf of the others,” he whispers in your ear. 

A kodama or anito, you aren’t quite sure which, comes over to you, carrying a small bowl above its head. The little creature fills it with water from the river, then offers it to Yukhei. He begins to fill the basin with the help of it, acting rather solemn as he lets your arm go. When he does, you feel vulnerable and hyper-aware of all the creatures surrounding you that could easily kill you if they wished.

The nekomata returns, leaping upon the basin. It drops an odd assortment of herbs into the basin, and the water starts to tint to a light purple. 

An elf appears before you with an ornate knife on a cushion. Fear chilled your spine as Yukhei smiled softly, but you couldn’t read what was in his eyes. He took the knife and brought it to his finger, gently slicing the skin. Three drops of blood join the water, and it causes ripples upon the smooth surface. You gasp as Yukhei does so, but when you look up, the elf was already bandaging his finger. 

A faerie brings you an intricately carved wooden cup, and you take it as offered. 

“Dip it in and drink,” Yukhei whispers. 

You look at him and raise an eyebrow, wondering what it would taste like. You do as he says, and are surprised at the taste. It’s certainly like a tea, with a hint of mint in it. You drink the entire cup before looking at him expectantly. 

He smiles softly and takes the cup, handing it to the faerie. 

You suddenly begin to feel nauseous, but also extremely hot. You feel sick, and you know your feet won’t keep you up much longer.

Before you can fall, Yukhei sweeps you off your feet. He takes off his shoes and yours, carrying you into the river. You suddenly fear that he will drown you, but he keeps you in his arms. The water cools you down, and you begin to feel as though you drank too much alcohol. Dizzy, you rest your head against his muscular chest. 

“Shh, I’ve got you, baobei,” he assures you. 

You blush as you realize you had groaned in pain, and look away to the full moon. Yukhei gently trickles the water onto your forehead, then gently kisses your temple. 

“That’s it here. Let’s go home, okay?” Yukhei asks, and you nod in response, too tired to disagree. 

He carries you, both of you soaking wet, back to what you realize is a castle. He walks you to your bedroom, which had a small fire lit so the room was warm. 

"There's one last thing to compete the ritual," he tells you, beginning to take off his wet clothes. 

"Please enlighten me, because I have no clue what any of that was about. I mean, I drank your blood!" You say, feeling more clear headed now. 

"It makes you immortal, or near so. Like I said, you need to be a suitable partner for me. Everything was perfect except your mortality. And to finish it, well, we have sex," he explains. 

Your snark immediately fades into surprise, and you look at him blankly. "What?" You ask.

Yukhei grabs a warm towel as he undresses and dries off, causing you to look away. "We have sex. You are my wife. I know some human customs, and women don't get shamed for sleeping with their husband," he says. 

You don't really know how to respond, and Yukhei doesn't push you any. He takes a towel and starts drying you off, messaging your wet hair into it. 

"Can I at least undress you so you can wear something dry? It's not safe to get sick after that ritual," Yukhei explains, hesitating with his hands at the ties of your dress.

"Yes, but explain how it isn't safe," you bargain. 

Although you cannot see him behind you on the bed, he nods. You feel his fingers begin to untie and loosen the dress, as he explains. "The ritual itself is dangerous, as it alters the person's mortality and changes them physically. During this time, you are both extremely weak and impressively strong. Your immune system is forced to lower in order for this change to occur, which means you can get sick easier. And that also means you being sick would be more dangerous. Especially if it turns into a worse sickness." 

With warm, gentle touch he pulls down the sleeves and dress, and you were suddenly glad he was behind you. Yukhei takes the towel and wraps it around you, and you stand up, letting the dress fall off. He gently rubs you dry, avoiding you private areas. 

"Why did you choose me?" You ask, still avoiding the topic of sex. 

He smiles and pulls you back on the bed next to him, keeping one of your hands in his. "Do you really not remember?" Yukhei laughs, causing you to tilt your head in confusion. "When we were little, we would play together in the woods. After your school and my lessons, we would play all sorts of games." 

"But that child's name was Lucas… and he was my imaginary friend," you say in disbelief. 

Yukhei laughs once again, shaking his head. "I told you already, I'm often called Lucas. We met when you slipped into the creek. I helped you get out and rescued your shoe from the mud." 

Your eyes light up as you remember the incident, and a sudden wave of relief washes over you. People thought you were crazy over this friendship, as there was no one named Lucas in town. 

You have an urge to lean in and kiss Yukhei, so you do. His lips were soft against yours, and he gladly kissed you back. 

"I'm guessing you believe me?" He asks with a smirk. 

"Shut up and kiss me," you respond, letting him pull you closer. This prompts you to straddle his lap and pull on his hair. 

He gladly does so, his hands gripping your hips firmly, but gently. You try to get your tongue to explore his mouth, but he utterly dominates you. After what was nearly an hour of kissing he pulls away. Yukhei gently rubs his thumb across your cheekbone, his hand cupping your face. Despite being extremely hard against your thigh, his words were tender and his eyes serious.

"Do you want to keep going, or do you want to stop?" Yukhei asks. "Either way it's up to you, Baobei." 

"Baobei?" You softly ask, the term unfamiliar. 

"Baby, my baby," he whispers lovingly. Your heart melts at his tenderness, and you know you give in. You're helpless against his charms. 

"Yukhei," you begin, "I- I want you to keep going. I'm sure of it." 

He doesn't question your words, and he goes back to kissing you. Yukhei guides your hips down, grinding on his muscular thigh to give you friction. He holds you up by your thighs, laying you on the bed with his lips still on yours. Yukhei only pulls away to take off the rest of your dress. 

You consider hiding yourself from him, but you get mesmerized by the look he was giving you. It was one of pure admiration and desire. 

"Baobei… you're gorgeous," he whispers, covering your body with his. Yukhei kisses your lips briefly before moving down your neck. He bites and sucks marks onto your neck, causing soft gasps to escape you. One of Yukhei's hands ghosts up your body and he begins to knead your breasts, pinching your nipple. He moves his mouth the the free one, nipping and sucking until the skin bloomed colors. Yukhei then shifted and gave the same attention to the other one, electing many soft moans from you. 

You could feel your thighs getting slick with your wetness, and he hadn't even touched you there yet. You blush as his mouth travels between the valley of your breasts. Yukhei moves and settles between your legs, holding them open as he gazes at your womanhood. 

"Fuck, you're pussy is so wet for me already," he groans, diving right in with a long lick of your juices. He moans again, adding, "and you taste amazing." 

You tense and pull away from him, but Yukhei grips your hips firmly and growls, "Behave for me. If you don't stay still I will tie you down." 

You gasp as he goes back to eating you out, his tongue thrusting into you as his thumb rubbed your clit. Yukhei moans into you, and the vibrations make you realize the building pressure in your stomach that was threatening to collapse. 

You gasp softly and grab at the sheets, and Yukhei smirks against your thighs. He inserts a finger into you, searching for your spot. When he finds it he knows by how you immediately try to close your legs. 

"Baobei," Yukhei growls, pushing your legs open again as he continues thrusting into you, relishing how you come closer to your high. 

Yukhei watches as he adds another finger into you, groaning at the obscene wet noises. He sucks in your clit, teasing the bud between his teeth. 

You let out a sob of pleasure as you orgasm harshly, and Yukhei gladly laps it up. Your legs shake as you try to ground yourself, taking deep breaths. 

"Are you okay, Y/N?" He softly asks, his clean hand touching your cheek. 

You nuzzle into his hand, nodding. He smiles at how cute you are, his thumb running across your lips. 

"Open," he firmly commands. 

You do as he asks, arousal shooting straight to your core. He puts his fingers in your mouth, the ones covered in your juices. 

"Suck." 

You do, blushing at tasting yourself. "Good girl," Yukhei praises, his voice husky and deeper. 

He then stands up and removes the towels, baring your body and his more fully to each other. Your mouth waters at the sight of his toned body and his happy trail. Your eyes widened at his cock, proudly erect and weeping precum. Yukhei smirks at your reaction before joining you back on the bed, making himself comfortable between your legs. 

"Are you okay with this?" He asks once more, and you begin to see the magic swirling in his eyes. 

You nod, and he raises an eyebrow.

"Words, Baobei," he growls, teasing your entrance with the tip of his cock, getting himself slick with your juices. 

"Yes, please yes, fuck," you breath out, biting your lip to hold back your moans.

Yukhei grins and spits onto his hand, gathering it and your juices to coat himself. He eases himself into you, slowly watching as your face contorts. Once he's fully inside of you, he forces your mouth open with his thumb and spits. 

"Swallow like a good girl. You're mine. All mine," Yukhei says firmly, starting to thrust into you.

You nearly choke as you swallow, his cock filling you perfectly. One of his hands finds your waist as his lips begin to suck on your neck. You let out pleasured moans, your nails taking down his back. 

"Yukhei~" you moan, accidentally clenching on him. 

This causes him to bite you harder before looking you in the eyes. "You're doing so good for me, Y/N. You look so pretty when I fuck you good," he says. "Are you gonna cum on my cock like a good girl?" Yukhei asks, reaching a hand between your bodies to rub your clit. 

You moan louder and nod, the coil snapping once again. Your vision blackens once again, and your legs feel like jelly. You feel yourself clenching tightly around him as he continues to thrust. 

Yukhei suddenly stills and groans, a warmth filling you as he cums inside of you. He thrusts weakly a few more times, his cum going straight into your womb. You whine, sensitive now. 

Yukhei gently and sweetly kisses your lips before slowly pulling out of you. "Can you go for one more round, Baobei? I want to fill your pretty pussy with my cum." 

You nod slightly and he smirks. He kisses your lips gently once more, before attacking your neck. You whine in pain as he bites your soft flesh, and you can tell that you will be bruised. 

He gently turns you over, guiding you into the position he wanted. “Go on all fours,” Yukhei coos, helping prop you up with pillows. “Let me see you,” he coos, kissing your cheek and down  your back. 

Yukhei puts his hands on your waist, teasing your soaking core with his cock again.  You softly whimper and press back against him.

“Even as worn out you still want more? Hmm, gorgeous?” he says, his sweet words contrasted as he smacks your ass, hard. 

You yelp and nod, moaning as he slides his length into you. “So wet already,” he moans, his grip tight on your hips. 

He goes immediately into a brutal pace, leaving you a moaning mess as he chases his high. You moan loudly, crying out in pleasure as he repeatedly hits your g spot. Yukhei reaches down and rubs your clit, and soon you can tell you’re going to cum again. 

He feels you clenching around him and he slows his thrusts. “Not yet, baby girl. Not yet,” Yukhei commands you. “Keep being a good girl and wait for me.” His thrusts then get harder than before, and you know his hands will leave bruises. 

“Please?” you whine, begging him to let you orgasm as you struggled to keep it off. 

“No.” 

“Please?” you sob, tearing up as your body tenses up. 

“Not yet.”

You whine but stay quiet, your eyes screwed shut. Suddenly, your orgasm can’t be stopped as he rubs your clitorsis, and you feel and odd release. You look back at Yukhei who is grinning and groaning, stilling himself as he cums in you.

“Fuck. You just squirted,” he tells you, thrusting limply a few more times as he gently soothes your back, kissing your cheek. 

Your eyes widen in surprise and you blush, biting your lip some. Yukhei laughs at you lovingly, pulling out and watching his cum leak out of you, satisfied. 

You groan softly as he helps you roll over, feeling his sticky seed between your thighs. He disappears for a moment and returns wearing boxers, holding a shirt and a damp washcloth. 

You whine as he spreads your legs, trying to protest but too tired to speak. 

“Let me clean you, Baobei. Then I need to take you to the bathroom. You need to use the bathroom before you sleep. I don’t want you getting sick, remember?” Yukhei gently coos, cleaning you off and helping you into his shirt. 

He then picks you up bridal shower and brings you to the bathroom, patiently waiting for you outside to be done. Once over with, he takes you back to bed and cuddles with you. 

“Are you feeling okay?” he gently asks, kissing your forehead as you snuggle closer to his chest. 

“Yeah.” 

“Tired?”

“Yeah.” 

“Good.”  You slap him, knowing he was smirking playfully at you. 

When you wake up in the morning, Yukhei had already left. Two female elves or fey of some sort of humanoid form come in. They help you get out of bed, giggling to themselves when they see you. 

“What?” you ask them, and they quickly stop their giggling. 

“Nothing, your majesty,” the first one says, helping you stand.

Your steps are uncertain as they lead you towards the wardrobe, helping you stand before the mirror. They go and talk about which dress to choose, and you eye yourself in the mirror. Immediately, you notice the blooming hickeys on your neck and down your collarbone. You blush as you pull off the shirt, looking at the bruises on your body. 

“Admiring my handiwork?” you hear Yukhei say from the doorway.

[pluto-art]

Syncytium - Chapter 1

Title: Syncytium Words: 3,311 Rating: T Summary: Teacher AU. Takes place in a fictional universe in which Professor Ronald Pinkus and Dr. Brian T. Globetrotter (played by Pinky and Brain, respectively) are college professors at an esteemed school for mice that focuses on science and the arts. Mainly told from Brain's point of view; sometimes from Pinky's. He's too egotistical for his own good. Pinky is too happy-go-lucky for his own good. The two clash. High jinks ensue. Dr. Globetrotter gets more than he bargained for. Way more than he bargained for...

Fan fiction link: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13712482/1/Syncytium

This was 100% inspired by the drawings I did of Brain and Pinky as professors. It’s planned to be a multi-chapter story, and I already have the major points of the entire story outlined. Here be chapter one. Enjoy.

Syncytium - n. a single cell or cytoplasmic mass containing several nuclei, formed by fusion of cells or by division of nuclei.

\/\/\/\/\/\/

January 17, 1994 - 4:35 AM

Darkness.

All around them was dark, it's impenetrable cloak cut only by the crimson beat of the emergency lights.

No one could see them. No one could hear them. No one even knew they were there. But if they could see them, by way of those steady emergency flashes, they'd make out an aging mouse struggling to carry his blue-eyed comrade to safety, light reflecting off his broken glasses. And if they could hear them, all they'd pick up, aside from a distant alarm, would be a heavy, breathless panting.

Brian paused in his efforts to set down the taller, much lankier mouse on the concrete below, an arm coming 'round to support his friend's head. Heavy lids threatened to close their curtains on a pair of periwinkle eyes, their owner barely managing to stay awake.

"Pinky... Pinky, wake up!"

Nothing.

"Pinky!"

He tapped his cheek sharply.

Slowly, surely, the other mouse awakened.

"Brain...?"

"Yes, Pinky. I'm here. I'm here."

"Brain...," Pinky whispered, a paw coming up to grasp his arm tightly before his head fell back into Brain's palm.

"It's all right," cooed Brian. "It's all right, Pinky. I've got you. Shhh. Shhh. I've got you. Shhhhhh shhh shhh shhh..."

\/\/\/\/\/\/

September 10th, 1993 - 7:30 AM

Darkness.

"Sh sh sh! Quiet! Everyone calm down! Quiet!"

A pencil sharpened. A ruler placed just so on a dated, mahogany table. Half-moon violet glasses were pushed square up against a pair of pink, deadpan eyes by a delicate, nail-bitten finger.

"Good evening, class," droned Dr. Brian T. Globetrotter. "Today we shall be delving into the fascinating subject of cellular mitosis..."

Sunlight, warm and bright and quite the opposite of the teacher it poured the morning's blessing onto, shone through the dark, wooden blinds of the university classroom, the better to illuminate the scene. Rows and rows of mahogany benches, arranged in a stadium format, and each with a polished table set in front of it, could barely be seen thanks to the sheer number of students adorning every bit of space available. It wasn't cramped, per say, but it was filled. Not a seat was left, and not for reason of enthusiasm. The countenance of those in attendance told all: no one was here because they wanted to be, but because they needed to be. Required classes were always the least interesting, and the occasional passed note or whispered joke barely managed to keep the atmosphere animated, provided one was even able to communicate such messages without getting caught. It was common knowledge that this particular professor had no room for flippancy. Detentions were a standard affair. Not being spoken to or called upon was considered a kindness.

Said teacher continued his sunrise spiel, seemingly oblivious to the complete lack of interest permeating the room as he droned on and on about the fascinating life of the cell.

Fascinating, indeed. If he at all harbored any excitement about the subject his profile certainly failed to project it, his demure expression reflected on the faces of practically every student in the room. Only one outlier remained: a golden-furred girl mouse, glasses a little askew, cheek resting against her paw as she sighed dreamily. An equally amber-tinted mouse beside her rolled his eyes in exasperation.

"The intricacies of such a seemingly primitive topic are much more complex and absorbing than might first be assumed, and although I don't expect any of you to give a Heterocephalus Glaber's crotch about an ounce of it, we are henceforth going to engage in the undoubtedly invaluable study regardless."

Somewhere in the back, a student scribbled "Heterocephalus Glaber's crotch" on a page of his journal labeled "The Globular List of Insults", sniggering to his freckled companion.

"Please turn your attention to page seventy-five of your textbooks. We will begin with the genesis of the process, in which a single cell divides into..."

But whatever that cell was going to divide into had to be put on hold, for at that moment the classroom door flung open to reveal a completely new fascination entirely.

"Oh, thank you, Mrs. Judson!" blurted out the newcomer, one foot in the door and the other still sticking outside the classroom, a loaded box of paraphernalia nestled precariously in his arms. "I'll never forget this! I promise to pay you back with a whoooooole bouquet of flowers! Nya-ha-ha-ha!"

In he tumbled, paraphernalia and all, right onto Brian T. Globetrotter's desk, knocking an ink pen, two calculators, and his name sign off the table in the process.

"Whoops! Eheh. Sorry! I'll get that for you!" offered the mouse, hastening to clean up his mess, albeit rather haphazardly.

"Wha-... What are you doing here?! I am in the middle of a very important session!" growled Globetrotter.

"Oh, yes, and I'm sure it's a very lovely session, too! But... if you don't mind my asking...," and he got right up to the other's ear and whispered: "Isn't this, ummm, my room?"

"Wha-? Puh... It most certainly is not! This is my classroom and you're intruding!" Globetrotter spluttered, poking a finger into the newcomer's chest for greater emphasis.

Three rows up, a student typed furiously on his phone: New teacher about to get ROASTED by Mr. B.

"Well, how do you figure that one?" the other mouse questioned.

"Maybe you should read the fine print?!"

And with the starkest finality he could muster, he picked up his name sign and slammed it down in front of the other mouse, turning it so that the name BRIAN T. GLOBETROTTER on the front flashed out proud as anything. The new teacher didn't seem at all perturbed by such harsh behavior. Indeed, he put his face right up to the sign, tipped down his own pair of half-moon glasses, and carefully read each word, muttering them to himself softly.

"Oh! Well, that's different then, isn't it?" he declared, straightening up to smile brightly at his fellow colleague. "But, umm, you might want to change the name there, don't you think? I mean, it says "globe trotter", but I don't see you trotting around any globes. No. Not at all. More like globe sitter. Ha-ha-ha!"

Globetrotter stared at the newcomer, mouth agape. It was all he could do at the moment, taken aback by the sheer audacity of this... figure and the pure chaos he had caused. Half the room was already in hysterics, for his buck-toothed make and slight slur, coupled with a lightly pronounced Cockney accent, made his proclamation of "sitter" sound like a different word entirely.

Everything about this mouse was... off. Compared to Globetrotter he was exceptionally tall and lanky, all the more exacerbated by the fact that Brian was quite a short mouse to begin with; he had to crane his neck to look up at him. His laugh was prominent, and his eyes were an astonishing robin's egg blue. Never in his lifetime had Globetrotter ever seen a mouse with eyes that color; he hazarded to guess they were contacts. He wore a lab coat, but only out of necessity, it seemed, for it clashed with the rest of his outfit: a pink polo-style shirt with some band's logo slapped on the front, striped corduroy pants that sported every color of the rainbow, and what looked to be black and white bowling shoes. It was as if a Goofy cartoon had vomited all over him. The heavy cardboard box he'd unceremoniously deposited on Globetrotter's table seemed to carry all assortment of bits and bobs - a globe, several petri dishes, a bag of chips, a baseball cap, some notepads and pens, a small keyboard, a roll of Gouda, some tape, a framed photograph, a book on Regis Philbin, two VHS tapes of The Honeymooners, and not one... but three Bunsen Burners, as if he had packed them in a feeble attempt to complete the look of someone who was supposedly intelligent. Every eye in the room had turned towards him as he entered, and every eye had stayed on him since. Golden-haired girl had actually dropped her pencil, grabbed her brother by the shirt sleeve, and clutched at her heart, a light whisper of, "Oh my gosh, he's hot...," fluttering past her lips. Her brother facepalmed. To complete the effect, he carried under his arm a pad hosting a number of rather childish stickers, which Globetrotter grabbed from him.

"Shut up!" he snapped at his students, who were still chuckling. They all quieted down at once. "Dr. Ronald Pinkus, Professor of Trozology," Globetrotter read aloud, disgust painting every syllable. "What in the bloody hell is 'Trozology'?"

"Oh, well, it's very simple, really. It's-," Ronald began, but at that moment, a wee mouse popped in, her eyes nearly covered by a pudgy blue tam o' shanter.

"Excuse me? Mr. Pinkus?" she squeaked, thick Scottish accent nearly muffled by the gray scarf swathed about her.

"Please, call me Pinky!" Ronald squeaked back.

The girl smiled and giggled.

"Pinky. Mrs. Judson told me to tell you that you're actually in two ten, not three nineteen."

"Hm? Ohhhhhh!" the one named Pinky exclaimed, peeking at the front of Globetrotter's classroom door. A giant number '319' was painted on its front. "That does explain things, doesn't it?"

"Yes. Now, would you kindly disencumber my desk and plant your quixotic accoutrements elsewhere?" Globetrotter fronted, already pushing Pinky's possessions towards him, and would have thrust it clear off the desk had it not been for Pinky's quick reflexes. He grabbed his loaded box, that ridiculous grin still plastered on his face.

"Thank you, Mr. Brain! And thank you, Ms... errrr...?"

"Flaversham. Olivia Flaversham," piped the girl, beaming from head to toe.

"Thank you, Olivia!"

And he waved at her, as best he could anyway, nearly losing the box as Olivia waved back and skipped off. Shifting his grip so as to take better hold of his possessions, Pinky turned to Globetrotter, panting a little.

"Oh, I'm so sorry for barging in on your class, Mr. Brain. It won't happen again!"

"It's Brian. And see to it that you don't," retorted Globetrotter, flicking stray dust off his precious desk. "You may leave at your earliest convenience, which I hope will be immediately."

"Right-o, Brain!" Pinky saluted, and with that... he trotted off, slipping a little under the weight of the box, and doing his best to close the door behind him with his long, pink tail.

For five whole seconds Globetrotter stared at the closed door, as if attempting to retrieve what little bearings he had left. Despite the poisonous nature of their teacher, many of the students couldn't help but exchange excited mutters, babbling in haste about what had just transpired. Already, Globetrotter, with his exceptional hearing, could catch such questions as, "Did you see how many burners he had?", "Do you think he's single?", and, worst of all, "Is his class full?".

In a rare move, no one was punished for such comments. If anything, for the rest of the class, Globetrotter aimed to be a bit more... amiable than usual, which only fueled the chatter. The session was a long one - three hours, to be exact - and it was with great relief that the bell rang, for if there was anything more "exciting" than cellular mitosis, it was gossip.

"Homework is due on the twenty-first. I want a count of three-thousand words at least and no exceptions!" Globetrotter rattled as the entire class practically flew out of the room in a flurry.

Many paired up with friends; some hitched up their bags and backpacks, running in haste to their next class. Three of the girls, two mice and a shrew, banded together, all a-flutter.

"Oh. My gosh. Did you see that guy? Ugh. My heart is still beating a mile a minute," one of them crooned. It was the golden-furred gal, whiskers shining as she licked her fingers and smoothed them out one-by-one.

"Gosh, Maisy, you're so superficial. One minute it's Globetrotter. Now it's this Pinky guy," mused a mouse to her left, a pair of goggles resting atop her blonde hair. "You need to pick a side."

"I am! I'm picking the cuter of the two," Maisy stated, as if this was the most obvious thing in the world.

"He looked like Pee-wee Herman walked into Dexter's Lab or something..."

"Dexter's Lab is more fun," voiced Tillie the shrew, who adjusted the tightness of the little cloth draped over her head. "What did Globetrotter mean by giving us only five pages of homework? Usually it's at least ten..."

"I have a theory for that," said the goggle-adorned mouse, biting her fingernails.

"Would you stop doing that?" Maisy bit, slapping at the other mouse's wrist playfully. "It's so gross."

"What? They get gnarly. You know I don't wear gloves when I work."

"You should."

Goggle-mouse sighed.

"Anyway, you wanna hear my theory?"

"I do," piped the shrew.

"Yeah, sure. Go ahead," droned Maisy, not at all enthused.

"Okay. So... my theory is that he's jealous. He doesn't want this Pinky guy to suddenly snatch up all his students, so he's trying to be extra nice to us to get us to stay."

Maisy snorted at this.

"As if we could leave. It's a required class."

"Yeah, but we could always drop it and take it next semester at a different time with a different teacher."

"But why would anybody go through the trouble of that?" said Tillie. "We'd all rather get it over with sooner than later."

"Exactly," "Goggles" said as they turned a corner, heading for the cafeteria. "Anyway, I'll see you guys later."

"Where are you going?" Maisy asked.

"It's Wednesday. I have Engineering on Wednesdays. Duh. Bye, guys!"

And off she went.

"Bye, Gadget!" Maisy waved, then said, under her breath, "She's so weird."

"Yeah, but we love her," Tillie said.

"Yeah, I know," smiled Maisy, as they walked into the cafeteria together.

Running past them went little tammie-headed girl. She practically flew past the throng of students milling in and trudging down the hallways, deftly weaving in and out of them like a snake in the grass. It was a wonder she didn't bump into anyone even once.

Down the maze of hallways she flew, finally stopping at a dividing lane to peer down a path at a familiar figure.

"Mr. Pinky!" she called out, desperately trying to catch her breath as she sprinted up to him.

Pinky smiled down at her, one paw resting on a handle on a door labeled 'Professor Ronald Pinkus, PhD Trozology, 210", his other arm still balancing the heavy box.

"I forgot to give you this!" Olivia panted, stretching out a sweaty hand to proffer him a little white note.

He took it, not without some difficulty, and tucked it into his box.

"Thank you, Olivia! Here..."

And he extracted from the box the bag of chips and handed it to her. She took it, puzzled.

"Tuppence for your trouble," he said, winking at her.

"Thank you, Sir! Good-bye!" Olivia waved, practically glowing as she ran back down the hallway, ripping open the bag and popping a chip in her mouth in the process.

Grinning sweetly, Dr. Ronald Pinkus opened the door and stepped inside.

It was dark, and it took a moment for him to find the light. When he finally flipped a switch, it revealed to him his new abode. It wasn't the most spacious area. In fact, as compared to Dr. Brain's (or... was it Brian's?) classroom this one was visibly a tad more... cramped. Only twenty seats lay stacked in a corner, their blue paint a little chipped and their legs a mite bent. They looked more like middle-school chairs than the nicer seats found throughout most of the school. The light was dim - perhaps a little too much so. He'd need to fix that. There was a fairly solid-looking desk, at least, as well as a small waste bin, some pencils, a large chalkboard behind the desk, and one of those roll-around televisions in another corner. By all accounts, this room was trash as compared to the rest of the university, but where anyone else would have turned their nose up at it... Pinky beamed.

Setting his box down upon the desk, he hung his lab attire up on a nearby coat hanger and inhaled, breathing in the smell of old glue, old chalk, and a very slight tinge of old bubblegum. The glue smell tickled his nose and he giggled. He rather liked that scent. It reminded him of something. Something sweet...

Quietly, he relieved the poor box of its contents, placing everything in the best places he figured they should go, and set the empty box down in a corner.

"There you go, old box. Sorry for all the trouble!" he apologized. The box said nothing.

He turned back to his desk, smiling at a job well done. The three Bunsen Burners stood proudly on one corner of the desk, looking very professional indeed. The notepads and pens looked quite nice on the desk, along with the roll of tape, and there was even a little shelf under the roll-away tv that he was able to put his Honeymooners tapes on! It was perfect. Well, almost.

From his lab coat, he pulled out a handkerchief, which he carried with him to an empty bathroom across the hall. Wetting it and wringing it out, he stepped back into his classroom, shut the door behind him, and carefully, gently, wiped down the picture frame, a smile kissing his lips as he did so. Four little figures beamed up at him: two older mice, himself as a child, and, curiously, a spool of thread, which he was hugging in the photo. Having cleaned the little glass and frame, Pinky brought it up to his face... and kissed it... before setting it back down on his desk, right there in front, where he could always look at it.

There was only one thing left to attend to: the note that Olivia had given him. He picked it up from the desk, unfolded it, and read:

Mr. Pinky,

My sincere apologies for directing you to the wrong classroom. I hope that old bat didn't give you too much trouble. Please, alert me if you need anything.

- Mrs. Judson

Pinky grinned, chuckling a little as he set the note back down on the table and stepped out from behind the desk.

He sighed happily and looked around the room, gaze glistening.

"I made it, Mum. I made it."

[caiminnent]

not designed for the cynical [kylux with side phasma/rey, rated T]

PROMPTS: communication suddenly cut off (@badthingshappenbingo​, 8/25) & bed sharing - pet - delivery (@kyluxxoxo​)

SUMMARY:

Whenever Snoke calls upon only Ren’s service, Hux sends word to all his relevant contacts that he’s available. The job offer he accepts turns out to be far more than he's bargained for.

(This is a low-key Inception AU that requires little to no knowledge of the movie.)

FANDOM: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy

TAGS: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Sharing a Bed, Mutual Pining, Alternate Universe - Inception Fusion, except not really, Armitage Hux Has Feelings, Kylo Ren and Rey Are Related

NOTES: This was written mostly during commute and/or sleep-deprived within an inch of my life and edited under the same circumstances. As such, I don't have the faintest clue what this is, but I love it.

5K || ALSO ON AO3

Hux isn’t prone to worry.

He is prone to stress, and he’s got the blood pressure to prove it—but that’s a necessity of the life they lead. It’s got its uses. Worry, however, is for when you don’t have an alphabetised, colour-coded list of plans for every situation that may arise. Worry is for the under-prepared.

Worry is a waste of time.

Knowing this doesn’t stop the fist around his heart from squeezing tight every time he hits redial and finds Ren’s phone still switched off, however.

Then again, there’s no real reason to worry about it. It’s a perfectly Ren move to go off the radar for weeks on end and turn up three countries away from where he was supposed to be, shrugging off all reprimand like he can’t understand why they’re so angry about it. It’s just what he does—he disappears, then he shows up at your doorstep when you least expect it.

He will this time, too. He promised—he will be back by Hux’s birthday.

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

Contrary to the popular (re: Ren’s) belief, life doesn’t stop just because Ren is off doing what Ren does somewhere else.

Even with all the safe houses and personas they maintain all across the world, the unreasonable amounts of money Snoke throws at them to be at his beck and call is more than enough to keep them afloat. Ren would be fine with not taking another independent job ever again; but Hux knows better than to rely on Snoke alone. He’s been burned enough times by fickle employers; he’s not ready to bet on the wrong horse and have to build his reputation up from scratch yet again.

That’s part of why, whenever Snoke calls upon only Ren’s service, Hux sends word to all his relevant contacts that he’s available. It keeps him in the game, on the occasion he gets an offer worth considering—and if he doesn’t, he calls it getting a feel for the market and moves on.

Monday morning finds him curled on the sofa, going through the responses on his phone. Most offers he received are below his notice like he expected, some downright insulting—and then there’s the e-mail from Enric Pryde himself.

He sits up so fast he almost knocks over his empty cup.

Among the dreamshare community, the First Order is as revered as it is despised. They reach out to very few and pay three times what they should; but the cost of failure is equally severe, growing proportionately to the project’s worth. Which seems to be a lot, in this case. While he can’t tell from the sparse details in the e-mail whether this Project Starkiller is meant to be a moving city or some sort of weapon—perhaps both, knowing the First Order—he already estimates at least two layers, more likely three, and a special blend of stabiliser for the dreamer and the architect both, who cannot be the same person for this design.

Because they want him on board as the main architect and his dreams never hold steady after the first layer, special blend or no.

Whatever he was looking for as a quick job, this is not it. It’s far more involved and challenging than he could have imagined—and, he’s finding, everything he needed. He could do this for himself. He could work a job he enjoys, instead of running point to Ren or Phasma’s picks all the time to keep them from working with incompetent point men.

Ren and Phasma, who might be working with incompetent point men halfway across the world this very moment.

No. No, he’s not thinking that. His birthday is only three days away. Everything is fine.

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

He e-mails back to say he’s honoured and asks for one week to get his team together. Pryde gives him five days and a thinly-veiled warning that there are others who would jump at this opportunity.

Stomach at his feet, Hux throws his phone on the coffee table and gets up to make more tea.

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

As expected, research gives him little of substance about the First Order’s operations and nothing at all about the Starkiller, although he finds a low-quality close-up of Pryde to glare at as he sketches out some ideas. They will get binned once he gets his hands on the self-destructing dossiers or whatever ridiculous security protocols the First Order may work with; but it keeps him busy. Better than watching the hours tick by.

When the clock turns from 11:59 to midnight on what is now Thursday, he considers texting Rey to ask if she’s heard from Phasma recently—changes his mind before he even picks up the phone. Ren wouldn’t like it. Hux has been accused of being a control freak more times than he can count as it is; he doesn’t want to add clingy to the list of his unattractive qualities.

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

At two in the morning, the doorbell rings.

He is going to murder Ren.

The door had never felt so close or so far as he rushes to it, heart hammering in his chest. He’s going to let Ren in, he’s going to check him for injuries and he’s going to disembowel that infuriating, thoughtless, selfish piece of shite if he’s had Hux fret all this time for no reason—

“Hi,” Rey chirps, looking up at him with damp eyes and a brittle smile. She raises a bottle of whiskey—Phasma’s favourite. “Happy birthday?”

He opens the door wider.

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

Admittedly—not out loud; he would never hear the end of it, from her or her cousin—Rey scores high on the short list of people whose company he enjoys. The booze helps, too. They drink in front of the television Hux hasn’t switched off in days and talk about everything but the aching holes in their chests.

She falls asleep on the sofa. He puts a blanket over her and goes to bed.

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

In the morning—practically afternoon, if he’s being honest—he tells her about the Starkiller. The plan was to pitch it to Ren first, to see what he thinks before bringing in the others. As it is, Ren isn’t here and none of Hux’s messages has gone through since their interrupted conversation and Hux is going to bloody explode if he doesn’t tell someone.

“I’m not sure, Armie,” she says around a spoonful of breakfast cereal he certainly didn’t buy. “He will never agree to work for the First Order.”

“Why the hell not? He works for Snoke.” Rather happily, in fact. Ren never prepares more carefully for a job than one of Snoke’s plentiful errands, no matter how simple. “Why wouldn’t he work for Snoke’s own company?”

She considers him for a long moment, chewing slowly. “He hasn’t told you the story.”

The implication—accusation—stings deep. “What story?” he demands, pushing his tea away to lean closer. The words held the intonation of capital letters, which means missing information that could potentially blindside them down the line. His respect for Ren’s private business isn’t greater than his responsibilities.

“Not mine to tell,” she says sternly, pinching her lips in disappointment like he should be ashamed to have asked to begin with. “Ask him.”

He snorts. Ren is hardly the sharing type, especially where Hux is concerned. Everything he’s ever learned about Ren has come through other means—and vice versa, he imagines.

She frowns, a question rising behind her eyes. He tenses on instinct. “Anyway,” she continues, shaking her head—and he can breathe more easily again. “My point is, if we’re doing this, we’ll need another forger.”

We. He doesn’t suppress his smile, relief coating his insides. “I suspect we won’t need a forger for this one. A chemist, on the other hand…”

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

She doesn’t leave and he doesn’t ask her to. They polish off the whiskey and pretend not to check their phones every ten minutes while binge-watching Star Wars, including the newest releases even their resident space nerd couldn’t finish.

He visualises Ren’s horrified expression when Hux reveals how he and Rey bonded over their shared love for big guns and hot villains in Ren’s absence. Laughter gets stuck in his throat, forming a painful lump instead.

He bids her good night and slinks away into his bedroom to stare at the ceiling.

Barely ten minutes pass before the television switches off in the next room, soft footsteps echoing lightly in the corridor. He turns his back to the door and feigns sleep as it opens and closes—which is a coward’s way, but he’s never claimed to be a particularly brave man. If he were, he would have asked Ren to stop working for Snoke instead of stewing in his misery right now.

Compared to her cousin, Rey’s weight barely shifts the mattress as she climbs in, sliding under the covers without fanfare. He shuts his eyes tighter and allows himself to imagine, just for a moment, that Ren is back.

“I haven’t heard from Phasma in over a month.”

Over a month? Hells, no wonder she sought him out. “Ren and I talked two weeks ago,” he says—realises with a sinking feeling that it sounded like he was rubbing it in. “Closer to three, actually.”

“What did he say?”

“Not much that I could understand. The reception was horrible.” Bits and pieces through constant breaking: Hux, shit, in case, person and, inexplicably, home. “I didn’t get the impression they were in danger—just inconvenienced.” As is often the case with these missions. Snoke’s got a small army of trained private security under his command and he still sends Ren to the most out-of-the-way places.

That Snoke’s hired Phasma as well for this one is a little more concerning, but not overly so. Reckless as they both can be, Ren and Phasma are forces to be reckoned with on the field—Hux would be more inclined to feel sorry for their adversaries.

Rey sighs. “Hope you’re right, Armie.”

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

If Mitaka is surprised to see Rey strut about in Hux’s shortest joggers she still needed to fold at the ankles and an old shirt, he politely doesn’t mention it. He and Rey exchange banal pleasantries over coffee and day-old cake while Hux finishes typing up his notes, then they get to work.

Mitaka listens to the briefing with unwavering attention, his fingers stapled in front of him like a front-row student. Like everyone else in their extended team, Mitaka is an experienced, accomplished dreamer—and yet, Hux can’t help looking at him and seeing the fresh-faced cadet Phasma had dragged in ages ago, barely into his twenties and all the more naive for it.

They’ve gotten old—Hux most so.

Once Hux finishes, “If you both are building this time,” Mitaka starts, looking between the two. “Who will be taking point? The Captain?”

Next to him, Rey inhales sharply, her face mostly hidden behind the curtain of her hair. Shame crosses through Mitaka’s face at the realised misstep.

“She’s otherwise occupied,” Hux responds before Mitaka can break into apologies. No need to make this more painful or awkward than it needs to be. “I will be running point as usual, and Rey is here to help with the heavy-lifting.”

Mitaka nods, glancing at Rey with concern before turning to Hux fully. “Where do I sign?”

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

They sign a heavily-encrypted stack of documents digitally, sending them through the First Order’s own communication system. The next day, they receive a link to a private cloud service with a convoluted unlock sequence that can be accessed by one device at a time, read-only.

Hux alone works on three different devices.

On the bright side, the project they receive is well-worth the inconvenience. Their objective is to design and build a superweapon out of an extensively described ice planet in the dreamspace, which must be capable of hitting five targets simultaneously and obliterating all affected life forms on them without causing a single non-predetermined casualty. Controlled chaos, if you will. The First Order wants a catastrophe they can tame and leash.

Hux can make it happen.

Whether he can make it happen in eight weeks is a different question entirely.

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

Without Ren to drag him away from work, he’s free to divide his waking hours between his screens and the sitting room, which they repurposed into a workshop-slash-dream den. While Hux is a decent architect in a pinch, he could never build the way Rey does—the way she bends the dreamspace to her will and creates cities that feel alive around them. Between the two of them, they have the groundwork laid out within days, quickly moving on to revising the base design according to the specifications in the main file and the numbers Hux runs.

Instead of using pre-mixed batches, Mitaka mixes their Somnacin from scratch on the kitchen table, reworking the formula per the reactions. None he comes up with works to keep Hux’s dreams steady, although a couple seem to ground his control over the dreamspace. Most just turn the dreams into nightmares for everyone involved.

Many of the nightmares are about Ren. Every time they manage to wake up from one of those, he looks at Rey to apologise. She never meets his eyes.

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

Unlike the two of them, Mitaka has family to return to and so he does when it gets late, leaving them to eat take-away and talk around the elephant in the room. On the rare occasion they do talk. Even though Hux gets the most shit for his workaholic tendencies, they all are guilty of it in different degrees; most nights are spent hunched over desks or tablets until they come close to shooting each other over the smallest noise or mistake, then they retire for the night.

The bedroom is where the worst fears come out.

“They might need our help,” she murmurs, lowly enough that the words could get lost among the howling wind outside. “They might be injured or—or lost, waiting for rescue. And we would be here arguing about heat transfer.”

“They aren’t.”

“But how do you know?”

He sighs loudly, turning to face Rey. Her eyes are big and eerily bright in the darkness, shining. “Look, Ren and I have been through this before. We’ve got contingencies in place for any kind of emergency—strategies to scarper and regroup as needed, fake identities with paper trail, codes to slip into lines of communication that will find their way to the other’s ear—all of which tied to systems that would alert us both if ever used. So far?” He gestures vaguely to his phones on the nightstand. “Complete radio silence.”

“Well it might be because he’s—”

His stomach lurching, “Don’t,” he bites out. He’s had enough nights contemplating that possibility himself, reasoning himself out of that line of thinking with more effort each time; he can’t handle someone else saying it.

Especially not Rey, whose unfailing optimism has seen them through many a dark spot.

“They will be back soon,” he says with conviction he forces himself to feel. They always do. This is just taking longer than expected.

Rey’s silence rings in the room.

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

At the end of the third week, Enric Pryde reaches out to him. His voice is as cold and serpent-like as he looks.

They talk for two and a half minutes—more accurately, Pryde relays his demands for two minutes and rebuffs Hux’s protests for the next half, then hangs up unceremoniously on him.

Fuming, Hux tries to glare a hole into his phone for about as long before going to wake Rey up.

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

“What do you mean, they are relocating us?”

Latching his fingers tight to keep from scraping at his already raw palms, “I mean exactly what I said,” Hux grinds out. “They want to move us into some safe house where they will provide us with everything we’ll need for the rest of the project. We don’t have the option to refuse their generosity.”

“They want to monitor us,” Mitaka says on the other end of the line, ever fond of pointing out the obvious. “Can they do that?”

“Would you like to be the one to tell them they can’t?” Hux shakes his head. They are not small fish; but the First Order is big enough to swallow them whole and not suffer for it. He knows to pick his fights. “If you’d like to drop off the face of the earth, now is the time.”

Rey snorts—as much of an answer as Mitaka’s bitter laughter.

“Well,” Rey says, scraping her chair back. “I should pack some clean underwear. When are they coming to get us?”

“As we speak.”

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

Before they leave, they make sure to sketch out First Order insignias on every available place. Just in case.

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

The safe house is, for all intents and purposes, a veritable villa in the middle of nowhere.

“A little excessive,” Mitaka comments as they tour the place, noting the bolted down furniture and darkened windows, locked conspicuously on the outside. The cupboards and the fridge are well-stocked enough to keep them fed for several months.

There is no mobile coverage.

In fact, there is no wireless connection of any sort. The multitude of devices strewn about in the house are all connected to the First Order’s own network and communications system, which provides access to every archive they might need for the project and nothing else.

The dread coiled in Hux’s guts grows heavier.

So much for his alert systems.

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

Progress is much faster with so much information at their fingertips.

Hux is envious of the berths of the First Order databases. Effective as his own methods of gathering intelligence are, his network couldn’t hope to have the same reach as a well-funded PMC—which he could have been a part of, had he not gone freelance instead of corporate after leaving the military.

The idea is tempting, still. He’s ruined for the civilian workforce—has been since childhood, with a father like General Brendol Hux was—but he seeks the structure and order that comes with being part of an organisation. Under different circumstances, he may have considered applying to the First Order after this project.

As their prisoner in everything but name, he wants little more than to be as far away from them as possible.

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

Everything they’ll need doesn’t involve a private chef or buffet, but it involves private delivery people who pick up whatever they want, no matter what they want, in a timely fashion. Because they are spiteful opportunists, they order the most extravagant and unreasonable meals they can think of. The food always arrives hot.

Hux marks the potential restaurants for each food item and how long it took to arrive on a small map every time. Just in case.

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

Sleeping in the same bed while Mitaka is in the next room feels too awkward, so they don’t. They don’t sleep much in general, either—not with the question of how to power a machine of the Starkiller’s scale without it overheating hanging heavy over their heads. Dreamshare mechanics are a lot more forgiving than their real-world counterparts; if they can’t pull it off down there, they sure as hell won’t make it work topside.

They have to make it work topside, they now know. The First Order wouldn’t have poured so much money and resources into what is merely Pryde’s pet design project.

“They probably have people looking into it,” Rey says, spinning her pen around her fingers with smugness dripping from her expression. He’s not petty enough to dare her to replicate it in the real world, but the thought is there. “Some super high-tech R&D division working on preventing a weapon of mass-destruction from exploding instead of, like, climate change.”

Watching her fingers like the secrets of the universe lie between them, “I don’t think so,” Mitaka responds. “It’s too much of a commitment. I bet they just wait for someone else to figure it out, then steal the designs from them.”

Something flares at the back of Hux’s mind like static, a connection he doesn’t want to make forcing itself into his awareness.

He shakes his head hard to clear it. Even with the dilation, he doesn’t have the time to dwell on things he’s got no control over.

“If you two are quite done gossiping,” he cuts in, smoothing over the blueprints in front of him for effect. “We’ve got work to do.”

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

We’re going to take something someone else worked very hard for, was all Ren had said the night before his departure—the only time Hux dared ask about his new job, once it became apparent Ren wasn’t going to say a word about it on his own. It’s such a non-answer that Hux couldn’t tell if Ren wanted to leave him space for plausible deniability or simply didn’t want to tell him.

He still can’t. As a matter of fact, he can’t say for sure Snoke’s job and this project are connected, either; all he’s got is a hunch.

A hunch he desperately wants to see proven wrong.

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

Mitaka’s newest blend is the most successful yet. They go down as far as the third level with only minor tremors under their feet—a huge leap of progress, after weeks of the ground swallowing them up whole.

Knowing better than to push their luck, they call it an early night and celebrate by ordering a feast they’ll have to take their time with. With the dinner table and every other horizontal space that could reasonably hold food covered in their work, they sprawl about the sofa set that hasn’t seen nearly enough use over their involuntary stay.

Once their food arrives and Rey realises what he ordered, a soft look crosses over her face. He ignores it. There’s only one place that serves Ren’s favourite food; it makes for a good reference point on his map. It’s not sentimental if it’s also practical.

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

He knew, from a logical standpoint, that having access to communication systems meant people could communicate with them and vice versa. On account of the fact that Pryde and the delivery people are the only ones to use it, he didn’t particularly care.

When the name Blysma pops up on the main screen, he realises what a gross oversight that was.

Heart at his throat, he accepts the request with shaking hands, grateful that no one is awake to see him like this. “Hux speaking.”

“Hello, Hux.”

Oh.

Oh, the ever-loving—

“Don’t say my name,” Ren adds quickly, as if he sensed that Hux was about to curse his name six ways to Sunday. “Or any other names. They don’t actively monitor your communications, but we’re pretty sure some keywords are flagged. Best not to take any chances.”

“We,” he repeats dumbly. So many questions are buzzing in his head that he doesn’t know which should take priority. “You and—ah, our mutual terrifying friend?”

Phasma’s melodic laughter rings through the other end of the line. Hux’s heart soars.

“Yeah,” Ren says, a little breathy. “Yes, we’re both here. And fine. The job ran late. Where the fuck are you?”

About that… “I don’t actually know,” he admits, the truth of it settling dark and deep into his gut. Trying to map out their location left him with more questions than answers. “Near the ocean. Far north of the city, I think; but we shouldn’t have crossed any borders.”

“That doesn’t narrow it down,” Ren says.

Irritation rising in him, “We were hardly given a tour guide for the road,” he snaps. You should have been there to take notes, is on the tip of his tongue—he swallows the words. Ren is here now, in a way. They’ve found Hux and the others. The insignias must have pointed them in the right direction; but figuring out how to contact Hux through the First Order’s own systems? That’s all their doing.

Taking a long breath to calm himself down, “How did you contact us anyway?” he asks.

“By calling in more favours than your sorry life is worth,” Phasma says, amusement lingering in her tone. He has never been happier to hear her mocking drawl. “So you had better give us something concrete to work with before we decide to leave you to rot there.”

Racking his brain, he takes a deep breath to ground himself. He’s got to focus. However Ren and Phasma managed to get into the First Order’s systems, they are unlikely to remain unnoticed for long. He needs to make the most of it.

The answer is so simple, he wants to smack himself upside the head.

“At noon, we will place an order for three servings of Bivoli tempari from the Hosnian. Track whoever is delivering it. They should lead you to us.”

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

He doesn’t tell the others about it. For one, he’s not fully sure his stress-addled brain didn’t make up the whole interaction—for another, they have a check-in with Pryde scheduled at 3, during which they’re going to disappoint him again with their lack of progress regarding the overheating issue. They are on thin ice as it is; he can’t take a gamble on the quality of the others’ poker faces and risk attracting Pryde’s suspicion.

At exactly noon, he contacts the delivery people and relays the order. In his periphery, Mitaka and Rey share a look.

Once he takes his seat again, “I thought the Hosnian was eat-in only,” Rey says.

Hux shrugs. “They said everything you’ll need.”

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

He orders something different from the Hosnian at the same time for the next four days, just in case. Mitaka is too polite to protest, despite the cuisine clearly not agreeing with him.

Rey eyes him suspiciously every time but says nothing, waiting for him to come to her instead of forcing an explanation out of him. He appreciates it more than he can put into words. He can only hope she understands.

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

Dying in an explosion ten times in a row tends to throw a wrench in group morale.

Unwilling to kill themselves just to wake up in the safe house, they wordlessly agree to wait out the timer. The burnout has settled deep onto their bones; Pryde’s implicit threats after every check-in don’t help their mental state, either. If Ren and Phasma hadn’t made contact, Hux might have considered taking his chances with a desperate escape attempt instead of sticking around to see what punishment the First Order would dole out for their inevitable failure. It might prove the better end, at any rate.

“I am going back to my children after this,” Mitaka says with more conviction than Hux has been able to muster up about anything in months. “I don’t care what happens. I don’t care if they kill me for it—I won’t die without seeing my family again.”

“We are not dying,” Hux reassures him. With three real-world seconds to the scheduled kick, he explains everything—Ren and Phasma making contact, the bare-bones of the plan and Blysma’s carefully vague progress update texts, the precautions they’re taking to keep Mitaka’s family safe should something go wrong.

Mitaka cries silent, happy tears at the news. Rey gives Mitaka a warm smile and pulls him close.

“That’s it,” she tells Hux, rubbing at Mitaka’s arm in sympathy. “I’m not letting her take a job without me ever again.”

Raising a brow, “You would be announcing to everyone in the community that she’s the best leverage against you,” he points out, not unkindly. He understands the sentiment—truly, he does—but it’s woefully impractical. Not to mention the kind of commitment it would take.

Her eyes gleam, smile turning secretive in that way he’s learned not to trust. Reaching into her pocket with her free hand, “I was already going to do that,” she says airily, taking out a small, velvet box.

Ah. Fair enough, then.

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

Hux is above lying to his employers.

Rather, he likes to think he is. Dreamshare, sophisticated as it may be at its heart, is an underground science—as such, it attracts a certain crowd. In a community where lying through one’s teeth is a survival skill, Hux knows to look someone in the eye and spin a tale truer than the truth as well as the next crook; he just prefers to tell the truth as long as it will leave his head connected to his body.

As it happens, this is the last scheduled check-in before the deadline. Giving Pryde bad news now would be signing their death warrant.

When Hux reports their success, Pryde smiles. The sight haunts Hux’s nightmares for days.

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

Blysma’s communication request comes the night before the grand plan, unscheduled.

His mind racing with possibilities, he grabs the tablet sitting on his nightstand before the notification wakes the others, accepting the request with, “Hux speaking.” As far as he’s concerned, there’s nothing left to talk about. Phasma has already laid out all she could of the plan without tipping off the First Order; a recap now would do more harm than good.

If this is about a last-minute change—well. Adaptability is another survival skill in their line of work.

“I missed your birthday.”

Hux blinks at the screen in his hands. “I—yes.” By a couple of months, at this stage. Where did that come from? Surely Ren didn’t realise it only now? “If you contacted me to wish me a happy belated birthday…”

“Of course not. I—uh, I called to hear your voice.” Hux’s lungs tighten, all too aware of his heartbeat. “Since we never finished our conversation.”

Their conversation. The handful of words Hux has been turning over in his head for months, to no apparent meaning or answer.

He’s bloody desperate to ask and finally, finally find out; but they’ve waited this long. They can be patient a little longer. “This is neither the time nor the place,” Hux says, as gently as he’s able, biting down on the instinctive Ren at the end. Now would be the absolute worst time for a slip-up. “Whatever it was, you can tell me tomorrow. In person.”

“That’s just it,” Ren mutters. “The last time I tried to tell you, we kept getting cut-off until signal completely went away and I thought, it’s fine. I’ll be back in a few days, I’ll just tell him then. In person.” He laughs, a breathy, bitter sound. “But then…”

But then Ren couldn’t get back until a few weeks after—and when he did, Hux wasn’t there anymore.

He clears his throat to get out the lump lodged there. “Then you’ll just have to be there this time,” he says firmly—his point man voice. “Because I will be, and I won’t accept any excuses.”

After a long beat, “Yes, sir,” Ren says, a smile in his voice. “See you on the other side.”

“Sleep well.”

[fleetwoodmoth]

Family

Chapter 7

With all those death omens in the new Night City Wire I’m fighting back my sadness by writing more of this au, enjoy! 

            Vesper let the smoke curl for her lips in a thick spiraling cloud which drifted up and dispersed like bubbles rising to the surface of water across the ceiling. Jackie’s cheek was pressed against her stomach, his body resting between her legs, hands pressed against her hips. She reached down and ran her nails against his scalp, eliciting a rumbling sigh from his chest. After a moment Jackie turned his head and pressed a kiss against her stomach, the action soft and lingering, like he was worshiping her. While tender, something nagged at Vesper. Last night he had called her out of the blue while she was with a client, not something he had ever done before making the reason he called even more suspicious. He had sounded strained, almost nervous, his voice trying to stay soft despite the way it dropped unintentionally, like he had something stuck in his throat. She had expected some kind of explanation when she met him at his place that night, but it had already been nearly 24 hours since and he still hadn’t addressed the elephant in the room.

       “Baby,” Vesper said quietly.

       “Hmm?”

       “What’s on your mind?” She asked.

       There was a long pause, too long to be nothing, before Jackie finally spoke “Am I that obvious?”

       Vesper let out a small sigh of relief that he didn’t try to deny it.

       “There are times where you’re being yourself, and times where you seem lost in your own head, I’m worried about you,” she said softly.

       “I don’t mean to worry you jaina, I just have a lot on my mind right now.”

       Vesper hummed an acknowledgement, offering him the blunt which he accepted, taking a drag before exhaling “It involves you.”

       She perked up at that, her heartbeat leaping slightly, anxiety running through her veins as she tried to go through every little thing she may have done to upset him. He must have felt her freeze up, because he quickly added “your safety. I should have told you sooner.”

       Somehow that was better than what she had made up on the spot. Maybe her last relationship was a little more than just heartbreaking.

       “This guy I borrowed money from a while back, well I repaid him a few weeks ago, now he’s come back now saying I owe more.”

       Vesper relaxed back into the pillows before nodding, a new fear creeping into her stomach.

       “When I called you, it was cause he told me to, implied something was wrong. I think your client was his friend, like insurance so that I wouldn’t beat him to death just for threatening you.”

       Vesper swallowed hard, her throat suddenly dry and sticky, she tried to blame the smoke as she reached for the bottle by her bed.

       “He was a bit of a dick,” she said, voice scratchy as she took a sip of water.

       He only went by Dee, and he had under tipped the bar staff, got aggressively territorial the more he drank, and finished after about three minutes before throwing her out. She had had worse, but he was by no means on her list of favorites.

       “He didn’t hurt you did he?” Jackie asked, kissing her stomach again before pushing himself up on his elbows so he could look up at her properly.

       “No, he was a jackass, but if what you say is true, he probably was under orders not to,” she said cupping his face with her hands.

       Jackie took a hit off of the blunt before kissing his way up to her face.

       “Good,” Jackie kissed at her neck and jaw, and she gave him time to process what he wanted to tell her.

       “I need you to lay low, just for a little while, until Friday.”

       She made him pull back to look at her again.

       “I don’t want to be a passive player in this, if this man is threatening us then I want to help,” she said.

       Jackie blinked a few times, looking slightly dazed at her reply.

       “But it’s my fuck up, you shouldn’t have to get involved.”

       “But I am, and even if I wasn’t, I’d still want to help you, because I—“ she stopped herself, her throat tightening in sudden panic “—because I don’t want you having to deal with this alone.”

       They sat in their shared quiet, Jackie dropping his gaze, contemplating her answer. She didn’t like the idea of being used as some kind of bargaining chip, especially to hurt someone she cared about, and she hoped Jackie would understand.

       “Also I… think I have some people who can help,” she said, Jackie sitting up with interest.

       “Oh?”

       “I told you, the Moxes take care of each other, I’m a Mox, you’re with me so you’re part of the family,” she said.

       “You think they’d want to help me though?”

       “Well, since your friend threatened me, then it involves them, which means yes, they will.”

       She pursed her lips and Jackie pulled himself up, kissing her deeper than she had anticipated, causing her to let out a small surprised giggle.

       “I’m not about to reject something like that, but just know that if this gets too hot I want you to be safe,” he said after a minute, pulling away just slightly, eyes tracing her face, voice soft.

       “I promise to stay safe, if you promise to do the same.”

       He kissed her again, and Vesper draped her arms around his neck, she could feel the tension leave him, like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. She couldn’t help but smile, he trusted her, and she felt for the first time that maybe she could be happy with someone.

         “He’s with me,” Vesper said as she and Jackie blew into Roxie’s bar together.

       Vesper had spent most of her nights here early on as a joygirl, it was like a communal safe house for the Mox and their associates, and while most of Vesper’s clients sought her out outside of the Mox, she still felt like she was coming home when she saw the pink neon signs.

       “Volt honey who is this lovely piece of arm candy?”

       Vesper turned from where she and Jackie had settled at the bar to the over modded Mox behind her.

       “Hey Rath,” she said with a smile.

       Rath stood at about 5’6” and was nearly completely covered in modded material. His skin was a canvas of blue ‘tattoos’ that had been etched into the porcelain like material that he had instead of skin, and his hair was a bright blue, cropped short against his scalp. She had met Rath when he was still mostly organic, they used to smoke and talk shit out front before both of their demand had risen to a point where they could only message each other throughout the day.

       “This is Jackie,” Vesper said, turning to introduce him officially.

       “Oh this is the Jackie Welles? Color me honored,” he said holding out a hand which Jackie took to shake.

       “We’ve heard so much about you,” Rath said, resting his free hand on top of Jackie’s.

       Vesper blushed, turning back to her drink, not making eye contact with either of the men beside her. She didn’t think she had talked that much about Jackie, it had only been around a month since they had started seeing each other, even less since they had started letting themselves become romantically involved.

       “C’mon Rath, don’t crowd the man,” she said.

       “Ey it’s fine, it’s nice to meet Vesper’s friends,” Jackie said, his voice relaxed.

       Vesper blushed further, not because she was embarrassed of him, but because he seemed legitimately interested in her life. Every day was like a new surprise with him but it was more like a blooming flower instead of a stinking onion, it was a gift and for the first time she stopped to wonder what she had done to be so lucky. But that moment passed as she remembered why they were there in the first place, a big sharp thorn in the rose bush.

       “V darling you have to tell me where you found such a catch,” Rath said over his shoulder to her, having situated himself between her and Jackie’s bar stools.

       “Maybe some other time, I’m—we’re here on Mox business.”

       Rath seemed to perk up even further, the prospect of violence always got him excited, more so even than a hot piece of ass.

       “Oh?”

       “We need some firepower and possibly back up, Jackie has a Valentino breathing down his neck.”

       Rath looked between the two of them before cracking a wide smile.

       “How exciting!”

       “Keep it in your pants Rath, we’re trying not to spill too much blood.”

       “Less exciting, but we can do that, let’s go somewhere a little more private, shall we?”

       Rath pushed himself away from the bar, taking both Jackie and Vesper’s hands and tugging them along, indicating that they follow. Across the neon blue dance floor and past the braindancers slumped on nearby booths was a door to the back rooms, and an old world velvet and glass lounge where several Mox members waved and greeted Vesper who took her time to acknowledge them all. She wondered if the Valentinos were like this, she only had a few customers from them, Jackie being the most recent and the way he spoke about family made her assume is was at least somewhat similar.

       “Now what are you looking for? Firepower to scare this Valentino off? A good old fashioned mugging? Dirt on him and his?” Rath rattled off the options like it was the bar menu.

       Vesper settled across from Rath who had perched himself on one of the free couches, looking to Jackie who took a seat beside her.

       “I need him to know he can’t fuck with my family,” Jackie said after a minute, the comment catching Vesper off guard. She had been so insistent on Jackie being part of the Mox family because he was with her, but she never thought about how she was a part of his world now too. She slyly slipped her hand into his palm, returning her gaze to Rath as she felt him squeeze.

       “Oh alright, intimidation, you got guns?”

       Jackie let out a laugh that made Vesper’s heart flutter. She composed herself before giving Rath a nod.

       “I got fire power, that’s not the problem, he made it clear he can get at my girl, and I want him to know that’s a bad idea, you get me?”

       Maybe it was the Valentino in him or maybe it was just Jackie being Jackie, but he was clearly on the same wavelength as Rath.

       “He threatened Vesper? Our Vesper? Ha!” Rath let out a sharp laugh “does he know he stuck his dick in the hornets’ nest by doing so?” Rath clicked his lighter as he brought a cigarette to his lips to light it.

       “No, he thinks he can get to me anywhere,” Vesper added.

       “Then we just show him the same deal, you got a name for this guy?”

       “He goes by Bolts, but his name is Rodrigo Aguirre,” Jackie said.

       “Alright, we can do some digging, should have his home address and the home addresses of his closest friends by the end of the day.”

       Jackie leaned back, eyebrow raised “that quick?”

       “Yeah, you got a whole birth name, that’s as good as gold to a good fixer.”

       “Shit, I forgot what it was like to have people at my back,” Jackie said.

       “Don’t sweat it, you make Volt happy, you’re a good guy as far as she’s told us-“ Rath winked at Vesper who blushed “-that means you’re good with the Mox, we’ll get you guys the info.”

       “Thank you Rath,” Vesper said, leaning forward to take his hand in her own.

       “You’re welcome babe, you two go home and lay low for a bit, I’m sure you’ll figure out something to keep yourself occupied while we get the shit,” Rath said.

       Vesper pulled back, shaking her head with a smile. There was something about being with her people, the Mox, Rath, alongside the man who made her infinitely happy so far. It felt good, warm, it felt like home.

[katiebug445]

Notes

Pairing: Jean/Armin Rating: t for swearing words: 2422 Prompt: High School

It had been happening since the last day of January. Every time Armin went to his locker, a note would fall out, a little poem scrawled in messy handwriting inside, and folded up inside of that, would be a valentine’s day card addressed to him. No name was written on it, no indication at all of who was sending them, and it was starting to make him nervous.

He knew it wasn’t one of his friends, he knew their handwriting way too well, and besides, why would they do something like that? He knew all the girls well enough in his class to know it wasn’t one of them, but he couldn’t imagine they would leave him poems and cards, anyway. Not when he was very obviously out. But who else would it be?

Armin had been trying for days to get back to his locker early enough to catch the culprit. He was up out of his seat as soon as the bell rang, and rushed right to it, but he was either too early, or too late. Always. With a huff, Armin would look around for anyone suspicious, anyone walking to or away from his locker, anyone with notes, or cards in their hands, but he never found anyone, and it was getting incredibly frustrating.

He didn’t want to tell Eren and Mikasa about what was going on, knowing they’d take matters into their own hands to find out who it was, and that, frankly, was more terrifying than any scenario Armin could imagine on his own.

So, instead, he asked Annie.

“Annie, please!” Armin said, running after her. “Please, you’re the only one I can ask that won’t overreact! Just hang around for a little bit, see if anyone comes up, and tell me who it is!”

The blonde turned around, her ice blue eyes hard, and her lips were stretched into a line. “Why should I waste my time bothering with this? I have my own things to worry about.”

“I’ll bring you donuts on valentine’s day?” Armin offered, still pleading. “All chocolate.”

Annie’s expression softened just a little hearing that, as she considered it. It would be nice to get some donuts, especially if they were the special chocolate ones she’d been seeing advertised for the holiday... “Can they be from Donut Factory?” She asked.

“Of course!” Armin said, relieved. “Wherever you want them from.”

“Fine. When do you want me to do it?”

“Whenever you can. I-I don’t know when they come by; I’ve tried to catch them, but…”

Annie tucked a piece of hair behind her ear and stared at the locker. “So this will be an ongoing thing, then?” She guessed.

“Yeah. Yeah, it will. I’m sorry.”

“Make it a full dozen.”

“Deal.”

The day passed with no word. Armin kept checking his phone, just in case he missed something from Annie, but his messages sat at the same number they had since he’d woken up that morning: 0.

With another sigh, he leaned back in his chair at his desk, and shoved his phone back into his pants pocket while he got ready. He barely noticed Jean taking the seat next to him, looking a bit flustered, but still every bit as gorgeous as he always was.

“Hey,” He said, plopping his too large body down into the chair. “You look upset, what’s up? Not feeling the Valentine’s spirit?”

Armin glanced over at him, hardly turning his head, and shrugged. “I never have before; why should it start this year? I take it you’re having a blast with all the attention?”

He didn’t miss Jean’s smirk, or the gentle nudge in his side when Jean handed him a piece of chocolate. “Take it.” He whispered, looking around to make sure none of his admirers could see him. “Seriously. There’s no way in hell I’m eating all of this myself - Mom’ll have a fit if she catches me with so much junk food.”

Reluctantly, Armin took it, and popped the sweet in his mouth, chewing it quickly so they didn’t get caught with food in class. “Thanks.” He mumbled, a tiny smile on his face while he reached into his bag and pulled out his notebook.

Jean was quiet too, pulling out another piece of chocolate and eating it, and set another one on Armin’s desk when he wasn’t looking. “So, I hear you have a secret admirer of your own.” He chuckled.

Armin looked up, his face burning hot, and quickly snatched the treat before Jean could take it back. “How did you hear about that?” He asked, genuinely curious and more than a little embarrassed.

Jean just shrugged and pulled out another piece. “I hear things.”

“How did you hear it?”

“Never you mind, Armin.”

With another huff, Armin grabbed his chocolate and turned away from Jean, figuring he wouldn’t be getting anything out of him, and turned his full attention to their teacher when she got there.

~

Three days later, and Annie still hadn’t gotten back to him about who was leaving notes. They were still coming, still left in his locker when he went to get his things, and somehow had slipped under his friend’s radar. Annie swore she was holding up her end of the bargain, seeing as her precious donuts were on the line, but Armin was beginning to wonder.

The notes had also started appearing in his mailbox on the weekends, but his mother nor his grandfather could tell him where they came from. Armin had gathered them up and took them to his room, ignoring both of their questions about who they were from, and stuck them with the rest.

He’d stopped paying attention to the words written on the cards, focusing instead on everything else about them. The handwriting, the envelope, any small detail that could possibly tell him who it was from. He found nothing.

It was frustrating, and the closer it got, the more aggravated he was getting. Finally, the day before Valentine’s Day, he’d had enough, and decided he was done. It was a Sunday, and he wanted to make sure he got to Annie’s before she left for her morning jog. He parked his bike out front and stepped in, surprised to see one of his friends, half asleep, behind the counter.

“Patrick?” Armin asked, his eyebrow raised as he headed up. “When did you start working here?”

The redhead snapped to attention when he heard his name, and tried to make himself look a bit busier than he was. “H-hey, Armin!” He stuttered, running a hand back through his curls. “What’s going on? You’re about the last person I expected to see come in.”

With a little embarrassed smile, Armin began looking through some of the donuts, trying to think about what Annie might want. “I promised Annie I’d bring her a dozen if she found out who was putting notes in my locker.”

“Oh, yeah!” Patrick said, brightening up at the mention of Annie. “Reiner was telling me about that, what’s going on? Did you find out who it was?”

“No.” Armin sighed. “And I’m not going to. It’s probably a joke, anyway. But… I want to keep my promise.”

Patrick gave him a sympathetic smile, knowing all too well how he felt, and yawned while his friend picked something out. “Well, hey, if you don’t have plans for tomorrow, I think they’re reshowing Bloodytine’s Day downtown, if you want to go? We can gorge our sorrows on over-buttered popcorn and questionable movie theater hot dogs?”

Armin chuckled as he thought about it, figuring that would be a pretty good idea, if he said so himself. “I’ll talk to Jean, if he miraculously doesn’t have a date, he’ll be in. He loves that movie.”

“Okay, cool!” Patrick grinned, liking the idea a lot, if he were honest. “Cool, just let me know what’s going on.” While Armin was still looking over the donuts, Patrick blushed a deep red when an idea struck him, and he cleared his throat. “H-hey, you said this is for Annie, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Stay here a minute.”

Armin was about to ask what Patrick was doing, but he took off for the back of the shop before he got a chance. He stood, confused, while he waited for his friend, and wondered what the hell he was up to.

Patrick came back with a plate full of plastic, yellow holders filled with chocolate cakepops. On closer inspection, he realized they were sunflowers. “Give these to her, alright?” Patrick asked, a pleading tone in his voice Armin couldn’t ignore. “You don’t have to tell her they’re, um, from me, but… yeah.”

“Sure.” Armin smiled. “Can you put them in a box?”

After a few moments, and two dozen donuts later, Armin was on his way back home. Annie would be long gone by now, so he told her just to come over when she finished up.

Armin was pulling his bike up to the house when he saw them. They were tall, slender but built in an athletic sort of way, with a hood pulled up over their face. Armin braked his bike, setting the donuts carefully on the ground, and watched as they slipped a small envelope into his mailbox. “Hey!” He called after them, watching as they jumped and took off.

Armin jumped off his bike and took off after them, knowing he wouldn’t be able to catch up but wanting to try. “Stop! Please! I just want to talk!” The figure reluctantly stopped, hiding deeper into their jacket, not turning around. “Why are you leaving cards and notes to me?” He asked. “Is it a joke? Because it’s not funny. Just st-”

“It’s not a joke.” They spoke, and Armin recognized the voice immediately. “It’s not a joke, alright? It’s-” Jean took his hood down and turned, his voice hitching and his face bright red as he admitted it. “It’s not a fucking joke, Armin.”

“What?” Armin sputtered, looking at Jean with confusion clear in his eyes as he tried to make sense of what Jean was saying. Of course it had to be a joke, right? Why else would Jean be doing this, saying the things he was? He could see Jean, clear as day, leaving those notes in his locker, and going to his other friends afterwards and laughing about it, about his confusion and hope that someone actually liked him. It felt like such a slap in the face. “What do you mean?”

Jean could barely speak. He stared at Armin, his face hot enough it could melt the snow on the ground, open-mouthed, and tried to think of something to say to him. “It - That’s not - I’m not joking.”

“But that…” Armin started, thinking about it seriously. It made no sense to him that Jean could be serious about it, that he really meant what he said just then. It almost hurt worse than thinking it was fake. “Why?”

“Why what?”

“Just… Why? You’re smart, and funny, and you’re cool as hell. You have tons of friends, and you’re the most handsome person I’ve ever seen in my life, you’re so… good. You’re… perfect. You’re perfect. And I’m not. I-I’m… Armin.” Armin completely deflated after that, still searching for something, some kind of proof, that Jean was messing with him.

Jean bit his lip, his heart fluttering at hearing that, knowing Armin thought he was handsome and took a step towards him. “What makes you think that I don’t think you’re all of those things, too?” He asked. “Because you are.” A little, embarrassed smile crossed Jean’s face then, and he reached out with freezing cold fingers to brush against Armin’s cheek. “You’re the most handsome person I’ve ever met. And you’re funny, and smart as fuck and… Jesus, Armin, you’re good, too. A little weird, and a little quiet sometimes, but you’re good. A-and… I don’t know.”

Armin pulled back when Jean’s hand touched him, the cold from his touch making him shiver just from the brief contact, but after taking a breath, he put it back where it was, not wanting him to get the wrong idea. “You don’t have to say that.” He mumbled, focusing on how Jean’s hand fit over his cheek almost perfectly, how his long fingers touched the back of his neck, brushed over his hair, and so badly wanted him to put the other on the other side of his face.

“I’m not ‘just saying’ it, man.” Jean sighed, a little frustrated. “Haven’t you read any of the cards, or the notes? That explains everything way better than I ever could out loud.”

Armin shook his head, feeling guilty for not paying more attention. “I thought it was just a joke, I-”

“It’s not. Just…” Thinking about it for a moment, Jean reached into his pocket and pulled out yet another letter, and thrust it at Armin’s chest. “Don’t… read it right now.” He muttered, his cheeks colored even more now. “Just… read it, alright? I was going to give this to you tomorrow, but I think… since you caught me anyway, you should just have it now.”

Armin took the letter, deciding to open it right then, despite what Jean said, and quickly read over the words written on the page. Then he read it again, and again, just to cement it into his brain. When he finally was satisfied, he looked up at his friend, not knowing what to say.

“Look, I know, this has got to be so weird, and I… I don’t know, I was hoping - but don’t worry if you’re not interested, I’ll back off if you’re uncomfortable, I just… wanted… you to know?”

Armin shook his head before reaching out and pulling Jean in for a tight hug, burying his face in his coat, and breathed in his scent, just as a reminder that this was real. “Would you, um, like to go out tomorrow?” He asked, peeking up at him nervously.

“Sure! Yeah, sure, I’d love to. I-I’d really love to. Where?”

“Patrick and I talked about going to see Bloodytine’s Day tomorrow. I thought… you might want to come anyway, if you didn’t have a date.” Armin confessed, finally pulling back, just a little.

“Oh, hell yes! Yes, we’re going! But what about Patrick?”

With a grin, Armin turned back to the boxes still sitting by his bike, and chuckled. “Something tells me he’ll end up with a date, too.”

[jj-lynn21]

HOLLYWOOD MOBSTERS Starring Bill Skarsgard and his family ch 3

ch 1  ch 2  ch4 ch 5 ch 6 ch 7

Bunny’s Gentlemen’s club music

Thank you for reading  @fake-me-out  @crazyjam-pot @super-pink-a-palouza​ @polireader​ @sunandshinee​ @kata180 

Warnings: Violence, smut, angst, cursing, 

Photos from esquire Singapore September 2019, Calvin Klein, IMDB and Ejalo’s Instagram 

Valter sits in a room with no windows. A mirror in front of him he knows is two way. He makes faces and flips off whom ever is watching with both hands.

Detective Donald Wings walks in with a smug look on his face, “You’re a little prick, aren’t you?”

“Ask your daughter,” Valter smirked.  He knew it was dangerous to be dating a detective’s daughter but when Angel first flirted with him and he found out her Father’s profession he figured he could use her as leverage to get out of situations like this. But that was two years ago. Now he would never do that. But that didn’t mean he wouldn’t remind her Father he was fucking his daughter on the regular.

The detective pretends to trip and slaps him hard across the face.

Valter’s head jerks to the left as he is slapped. He glares at the Detective and spits blood at him. “I think you owe me a phone call. And I’m not saying another fucking word until my lawyer is here.” He leans back with a smirk on his face, cuffed hands behind his head.

The detective is obviously pissed, “You smug little…”

A woman walks in, “That’s enough detective Wings. We will be taking over here.” When she turns her jacket says F.B.I in large yellow letters.

“You are going to let this punk go, aren’t you?”  The detective gets in the smaller looking woman’s face as if it would change what she was going to do.

She stares down Valter ignoring the detective trying to intimidate her, “That depends on him. We definitely found enough drugs on him, in his room and around his frat house to put him away for life.”

Valter smirks arrogantly. The detective shook his head and left. He watched with others through the two-way mirror.

“I think you need to wipe that look off your face and listen to everything I have to offer before your lawyer gets here,” She sat on the edge of the metal table with her arms crossed. “We are unsure about your family’s activities, but we know people your family deals with have illegal interests. I am sure your family would not be very happy you were picked up with the amounts of products we found on you. All we are asking is for you to wear a wire until we get what we need. Then today’s transgression will disappear. When your lawyer gets here the deal expires.”

Alex relaxes on one of the couches at Bunny’s Gentlemen's Club while Amanda dances over his lap undulating her hips, when he gets an anonymous call about what is going on with Valter. He says nothing to the person on the other end eyes on the girl he knows wants more than to give him a lap dance. He just hangs up. Alex thinks on it and decides to deal with it when his brother comes to him. He prays his brother makes good decisions in such a difficult situation.

Alex grabs the girl by the hips and puts his lips to the triangle shaped lace of her panties. Her breath hitched. He pulls her under him on the couch. He sniffs from her wet pussy pussy up her body to her ear biting the lobe before speaking, “Are you sure you want to fuck your boss before your first night begins Amanda?”

His hips press against hers so she can feel his excitement build., “Yes,” her lips quivered as she spoke the word.”

“Now that I have your consent on video, you will get more than you bargained for sweet girl.”

He moves down again ripping the lace panties off with his teeth.  Pulling her legs over his shoulders he teases her opening with his tongue. She is already writhing as he sucks on her clit. As he works her up, he gets the lubricated condom from his back dress pants pocket. He manages to get his pants off and the condom on before moving up into her hard and fast. She moaned as his hips met hers with every deep thrust he made. When he had her coming her eyes couldn’t focus. Her nails dug into the back of his shirt making holes until they impaled his skin. As she road out the pleasure he came with a loud growl of satisfaction.

He got up. Went behind the bar and deposited the condom in the trash. Fixed himself up. Made a strong drink. Amanda lay on the couch breathless. One leg and arm hanging over the side.

“You better get that hot ass moving,” Alex swirls his drink with a smirk on his face. “You have a show in an hour, and I believe you need to find a new outfit.” He turns on the music for the evening. 

Amanda gets up and heads to the back dressing rooms walking a little awkwardly. What is left of her panties are in her hand. A few other girls, Bunny and Taylor, come out to practice their routines on two of the three poles in the center of the room. “Good evening Daddy.” They both say in Unison.

He lifts his refilled drink to them, “evening ladies. Are you ready for me to open the door to the heathens?”

They both giggled hanging upside down. Alex nodded to a Bouncer that had walked in the door as the girls started dancing. The bouncer started checking I.D.s as he let people in the club.

At nine forty-five Bill and Gustaf pull near the meeting site. They get out of Gustaf black Maserati. They open the truck arming themselves with guns, and knives attach or tucking the weapons to various parts of their bodies. The process is smooth and quick. They both have flack jackets under there Brioni suits. Gustaf leaves a large duffle in a secret compartment in the trunk with the product to drop at Club Rose Bud across town if the deal is made and cash is correct.

They stroll along the mostly dark waterfront behind Bunny’s and other businesses. There are only a few lights scattered.  The noises from the evening parties at the club, bars and restaurants could easily drown out anything happening behind them. Four guys walk towards Bill and Gustaf in black and blue off the rack suits. They stop a few feet away from each other. There is some tension in the air as there always is in these dealing with the Malforal cousins, Montachello, Richard, Robert and Derick.

“I heard your girl had an accident,” Montachello fanes remorse before adding, “It would be a shame if there were any other accidents in the family.”

Bill takes a few steps toward the guy, “You so of Bitch.”

Gustaf Puts his hand in front of his chest to stop him.

“Did you fucking kill her? I’ll fucking kill all four of you and your whole fucking family you hear me?” Bill screamed angerly his hand on the gun on his back. “I’ll fucking kill you.”

Montachello smirks, “I didn’t say we had any knowledge of that, but I didn’t say we didn’t.” He looks at Bill like he is daring him to touch him.

“Fuck you, your dead,” Bill goes to pull his gun and charge the four.

Gustaff pushes him back a few feet. Bill glares at his Brother.

“Let’s see if they have the cash,” Gustaf said calmly. “When we get the cash. They get the death they are fucking begging for with that taunting bullshit. Even if just one of their family did the hit, they will get the message not the mess with the Skarsgards again.”

Bill and Gustaff walk back to the fours Malforal cousins.

“Do you have the agreed-on price?” Gustaf asked.

“We do,” Montachello motioned back to car. “In the back seat. Do you have the coke cola?” He chuckles at the code name the Skarsgards use for their drugs.

“As in all our dealings as soon as we count the cash, we will drop what you are in need of off at Club Rose Bud.”  Gustaf reminded them.

Montachello snaps his fingers. Derick goes to grab the bag. “Maybe You should be with your girl Billy.”  He pulls his gun.

Bill and Gustaf pull two apiece.

“You fucker!” Bill shoots him and Richard right between the eyes. He empties one of his clip into Montachello’s face. “This is for Genna you sick fucking bastard cock sucking fucker!” He stands there a moment in shock at his own brutal deed.

Gustaf shot Robert between the eyes at the same time he shot the case of money out of Derick’s hand. Derick shot at Gustaf. Bill saw Gustaf go down. Bill walked straight towards Derick  hitting the hand with the gun so Derick dropped it before Bill shot him emptying his clip into his chest. Bill was screaming,“None of you fuckers deserve to live!” 

Derick had hit Gustaf before Bill took him out. Bill grabs the money bag. Then he runs over to Gustaf laying Gustaf’s head on the bag. “Hey, come on Gustaf, get up. I don’t know what to do with them. I was never involved in this shit. Fuck!”

Gustaf comes to, “Bill you alright?”

“Yeah, no…those fuckers are all dead.” Bill was panicked but high from what happened. He thought those fuckers that killed his girl got what was coming to them.  “Fuck, were you shot man? Where were you hit?”

“I’m alright Bill, I’m alright,” Gustaf felt where the bullet hit his chest. “That’s exactly why I told you we had to wear the bullet proof vests. Dumb fucks thought they were working with armatures. Good job little Brother. Help me to the car. My chest hurts. I’m going to have one hell of a bruise.”

Bill helps him up, “Should I call Sam?” He opens the car door and helps Gustaf inside. He tosses the money in he back seat. “What do we do with them. This is a fucking mess. Maybe I shouldn’t have…”

“You fucking did the right thing,” Gustaf interrupted. “I’ll call the cleaners. You have one more big job before we go meet up with Alex at Bunny’s.”

“What’s that?” Bill has not moved from open passenger door. “Fuck I fucking killed three fucking guys, fuck…”

“It is going to fine Bill,” Gustaf said. “You need to drive us to Club Rose Bud. Drive right up to the back door. Knock once. When someone answers hand whoever it is the product and say, ‘this is from the Skarsgards’. The person will probable just nod and take the bag. Then I will talk to Alex.”

Bill starts driving. He smacks the steering wheel, “Fuck, fuck fuck, Alex is going to be fucking pissed at me.”

“He’s not,” Gustaf grabbed his cellphone. All he said when someone answered was “waterfront” and he hung up. “I’ll explain everything. Shit goes sideways with the Malforals all the time. Not this sideways but they pulled their guns first. I also think they admitted to killing your girl. They taunted you. Fuck, you held it together the best you could. This is not on you. You did what you had to do.”

Bill drives to the Malforals’ club, grabs what his family promised them for the money and goes to the back door. It goes as smoothly as Gustaf said. Bill knocks once. The guy at the door takes the bag and the message that its contents are from his family and it is done. They head to Bunny’s Gentlemens club. Gustaf calls Alex to meet them at the back door to their club. When they get there, Bill helps Gustaf out of the car.

“Grab the money Bill,” Gustaf’s breathing was labored. “We can’t leave it in the car.”

Bill nodded, flung the bag strap over his left shoulder and let his brother lean on his right as they went to the back door. Bill kicked the door a few times.  Alex opened the door. One of the club security guys is behind Alex.  Gustaf protests when the three of them carry him to a sitting room.

“I can fuck walk,” He complains. “My chest just hurts like hell.”

Bill’s face and suit are covered in blood splatter from how close he got to the guys he shot. His eyes were big as he started to beg Alex’s forgiveness, “I’m so fucking sorry Alex. They said they killed her. They fucking killed Genna. I know I fucked up your normal business. Fuck I should have never been there. Been here, fuck I’m so fucking fucked right now.” He starts to pace the room.  

Alex looks bewildered, “Its fine Bill. I’m not angry at you or Gustaf. Sometimes shit just goes down wrong. Sit down.”

Bill keeps pacing, “This isn’t my fuck life. I don’t fucking kill people…”

Alex helps Gustaff off with his shirt. There are five bullets embedded in the flack jack.

“Sit the Fuck down Bill!” Alex orders. “No Bullets made it all the way though.” He takes off the jacket to see Gustaf’s black and blue chest. “Your chest did take a beating Gustaf.”

“But I’m still ticking,” Gustaf laughed and cringed when it hurt his chest.

Bill sat in the corner with his knees to his chest mumbling, “I don’t fucking kill people like that…”

Alex looks to the security guard, “Bring Bunny in here.” He grabs his phone and takes pictures of Gustaf’s chest. “I’m going to send these to Sam. I am pretty sure you have a least one cracked or broken rib. We will probably have to take you to his clinic for an x-ray.”

Bunny comes in followed by the security guard, “Your chest looks quite beautiful,” She jokes to Gustaf.

He chuckles and winces, “I’ll be fine doll.”

“Can you help out Bill,” Alex nods to his brother in the corner. “He’s a little traumatized by tonight’s transactions. Take him to the bedroom with the shower. Strip him down. We will burn his and Gustaf’s suits. There should be a tracksuit that fits him in the closet. Just talk to him. Do what you can to help him feel better.”

“No problem Daddy,” She slowly approaches Bill speaking calmly. “Hey, baby boy let’s go clean you up.” She touches his hand. He flinches away. “Its ok. Please, let me help you.”

Bill looks at her. His eyes glossy. Bunny takes his hand again. He lets her.

“That’s a good boy,” She smiles sweetly. “Now will you get up and follow me so I can clean you up?”

Bill nods slowly. He pushes himself up against the wall. Bunny’s hand stays in his. Her eyes focused on his. He turns seeing His brothers. Eyes widen in horrific terror from his deeds again. Bunny snaps her fingers.

“Eyes on me baby boy,” She gets in his line of site.

She leads him out of the room to go get him cleaned up.