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katyaromanoffpetrova · 3 months ago

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What if...they met in college? (1)

Instead of being forced into espionage, Kat and Nat grew up in society like normal kids. But fate always forces them together. As roommates in college this time. One popular girl and one nerdy girl.

• Natasha Romanoff x Fem!OC • Wordcount: 4.7k • Warnings: none • A/N: HAPPY BIRTHDAY @nataliasquote !!! This one is for you. The college AU you are so obsessed with. More parts to follow :) Masterlist

Do not repost my work as your own or translate my work!!

Katya

The hallways of the campus' dormitories were chaos. Bags, suitcases, instruments, and people, lots of people, blocked Katya's way as she tried to navigate her way to room 415. They bumped into her left and right, and screamed things in her ear as she parkoured over their stuff, yanking on the handle of her suitcase aggressively whenever it got stuck.

Move-in day was busy, really busy. She meant to avoid rush hour by arriving early, but she'd gotten stuck in traffic. For two hours. Now her roommate had gotten to their room before she did and undoubtedly claimed the good side, probably leaving her with very little space and very possibly decorating the floor with the world's ugliest rug.

Katya stopped halfway down the hall to catch her breath, dropping her heavy sports bag to the floor to give her poor, aching shoulder a break. With the back of her hand, she pushed her glasses up her nose and brushed some hair from her forehead. It would have been great to have some help. At the end of the hall, a girl had a whole team to help her move in. Parents, sister or friend, boyfriend or brother. But Katya didn't have anyone, so she had to take three roundtrips to the parking lot by herself.

With a sigh, she hoisted the bag up again and watched the room numbers climb the further she walked down the hall. The girls in room 410 had their door open, a song from fifteen years ago blasting from a portable speaker on their desks. They must know each other, because both their sides of the room were in coordinating colors. One of them caught Katya's nosy eye and gave her an awkward smile.

411, 412, 413, 414…

The door to room 415 was open. Katya stopped and took one last, deep breath before stepping into the doorway.

She was right. Her roommate had already decorated her part of the room. Her eye immediately fell on the large rug between the beds. A fluffy, really soft looking beige one that looked very tempting for a nap. It suited the rest of the surprisingly calm decorations.

White bed sheets with various neutral colored pillows on top, the subtle black and white prints on the wall, the beige colored plant pots, the fairylights that emitted a soft yellow glow, and the beige curtains that Katya also wasn't mad about. The only thing that held some color were the pictures on the corkboard above her headboard.

Whoever this girl was, she had good taste.

Katya dumped her suitcase by the unoccupied bed and threw her duffel bag on top, careful to avoid the rug with her shoes. The knot in her stomach unraveled a little bit. Maybe her worries about her roommate had been invalid. She had definitely been overthinking too much. It even smelled nice in here, like her roommate had lit a vanilla scented candle.

''Oh, you're here!'' A cheerful voice came from behind Katya. ''I went to pick up two muffins from downstairs because I was hungry and I figured you would be too.''

Katya turned around… and was met with the most stunning woman she'd ever seen in her entire life.

The same height as her, lean build, fair skin—but that wasn't what Katya's gaze was drawn to. A pair of full, pink lips framed a beautiful wide smile that reached all the way up to her even more beautiful, sparkling green eyes. Her eyelashes were so long they nearly touched her perfectly defined eyebrows, and when she blinked, they brushed over her sharp cheekbones. Her nose wasn't small or pointy, and had a little bump that would make most people self-conscious, but fit her face so well that everyone would be jealous of it anyway.

But somehow, like that wasn't already enough to turn heads, this all paled in comparison to the long, slightly curly hair that fell down her shoulders. It was that kind of bright, deep red that non-redheads tried to achieve but never could. The kind that naturally looked darker in the winter and lit up slightly orange in the summer sun. Everchanging and unique, and part of the reason why Katya's heart was hammering in her chest.

''I'm Natasha.''

Oh. My. God.

Katya could not form a single thought. Her mouth was as dry as the Sahara desert in the middle of the summer. She could only stare. Stare at her roommate while she tried to fight off the gay panic that reduced her to a completely useless human being.

This could not be happening. The girl she had to live with for a year could not be this excruciatingly attractive. Freshman year would be her end.

Awkwardly, she cleared her throat when she saw that Natasha was waiting for a response, an amused eyebrow quirked up on her forehead. God, she was already making a fool of herself. ''Katya Petrova,'' she said shortly, her smile filled with embarrassment as she accepted the blueberry muffin Natasha kindly got her. Get yourself together, or she's gonna get tired of your weirdness quickly.

It wasn't physically possible, but Natasha's perfect eyes lit up even more. ''Russian?''

''Yeah.''

Her smile turned into a mysterious smirk that sent tingles down Katya's spine. ''Then we're gonna get along just fine,'' she said, and Katya couldn't help but feel like there was some sort of double meaning she was missing. Natasha looked at her like she was a meal, and her nerves intensified.

''Uh, thank you for the muffin,'' she blurted out.

''You're welcome,'' Natasha mused, totally cool as she leaned back against her desk. It was unfair, how she turned Katya into a complete mess while she remained confident and calm. But it was so attractive. Katya shivered as Natasha's green eyes slowly looked her up and down. ''I think I picked right. You look like a blueberry muffin girl.''

An awkward chuckle slipped past Katya's lips. She wanted to get away from that piercing gaze desperately, anything to think clearly again, but it wouldn't let her move. ''What does that mean?''

''I don't know.'' With a smirk—and intense eye contact—Natasha brought her ring finger to her lips and sucked the muffin crumbs off. Casually, she repeated the motion with her other fingers, her entire thumb disappearing in her mouth.

Katya felt her eyes widen, more gay panic flushing her veins until her heart thudded loudly in her chest. Images, ones she would never say out loud, filled her mind. Her lower stomach turned into knots while a blush covered her cheeks. She turned away, pretending to be really busy with unpacking. She swore she heard a soft chuckle behind her.

''I hope you don't mind the rug and the curtains. I took the liberty to decorate.''

''That's okay," Katya answered, having trouble remembering what the curtains even looked like. They were the very last thing on her mind as she rummaged aimlessly through her bag, hoping Natasha didn't notice that she wasn't doing anything.

''Is that all your stuff?''

Katya shook her head, risking a glance over her shoulder. She was relieved to see that Natasha's flirty expression had turned into something more puzzled. ''No, the rest is in my car.''

It wasn't hard to put two and two together. Natasha's eyes visibly softened. ''Are you here alone?''

''Yes," Katya answered casually, ignoring the stab in her heart.

It stayed quiet a moment longer than normal, painfully so. These silences were nothing new. She'd started to expect them. On Mother's day, on Father's day, on Christmas, on Thanksgiving, but also moments like these, where she didn't know she would be missing parents until she was in the moment.

''Does your family live far away?'' Natasha asked carefully.

''Sort of.''

She put her muffin down and uncrossed her arms. ''Let me help you carry the rest up. I can't possibly let you walk back and forth countless times while I take a nap,'' she joked lightheartedly.

''Oh, no, it's okay. Really. You don't have to help me," Katya refused, not in the mood for pity. But Natasha stood up straight and tied her beautiful hair into a perfect messy bun.

''Well, I want to," she said with a tone so definitive that Katya lost all her will to protest. "And I'm not taking no for an answer.'' She looked ready to tackle a big job. Hands on her Lululemon shorts-clad hips, sports shoes on her feet. And those lean arms…they could surely carry a few boxes.

Katya considered it for a moment, and then nodded. It would be nice to have some help. ''Okay then.'' Natasha flashed her a big smile.

Somehow, she faced none of the struggles from before—having to parkour her way through the halls. People seemed to get out of their way for Natasha, driven by some invisible force that must have been her confident aura.

Katya felt entirely unworthy to be walking next to her. They attracted lots of eyes, and the reason they looked at them certainly wasn't her red, sweaty face. Nobody noticed a dull brunette next to a redheaded goddess in gym shorts and a crop top.

Natasha didn't seem to notice anything. She kept talking to Katya, completely comfortable yapping to someone she'd only met five minutes ago, while Katya tried not to let her gay panic turn into real, uncontrollable panic. She only heard half of what her roommate was saying.

''Hey, Nat!''

They were in the quad, a huge field of grass between the main campus buildings. Today, the main path was lined with stalls full of information and help. If someone couldn't find their dorm or there was another problem, they could visit here.

A guy, looking older than her, had called Natasha's name from one of the stands, his hand in the air to grab her attention. Katya's first instinct was; football player. He had the build for it.

''Jason!" She smiled, not stopping to talk to him. "How are you?''

He was the fourth guy to greet her like that. Like he knew her. They all looked vastly different—though good-looking—and they all looked older. Some closer to twenty-four than eighteen. It was odd. Where did she know all of them from? Katya was starting to gain suspicions that her roommate may be more well-known around here than she thought.

"So, what's your thing?" Natasha asked suddenly. Katya had been brooding over her roommate's popularity so hard that she didn't realize she'd fallen silent. Or that they were close to the parking lot.

"I'm not sure what you mean."

"What are you here for?" Natasha clarified, smiling when she still saw the confusion on Katya's face. "Law and dance, that's my thing. Studying law, and I'll be trying out for the dance team."

Katya didn't find this surprising at all. Natasha looked like that kind of person who could do it both. Arts and literature. Body and brains. Someone good at absolutely everything. It also explained her subtle muscles and lean figure. Of course, the gorgeous, popular girl was a dancer. What were the chances she was a cheerleader in high school?

"Of course, you are." Katya paled when she realized the words had escaped her.

Natasha smirked amusedly. "What does that mean?"

"Nothing," Katya said quickly. Her roommate's need to fluster her all the time was starting to get on her nerves. She fiddled with her car keys, smiling nervously. "I'm not as interesting as you, I'm afraid."

Natasha tilted her head, her eyes sparkling with something flirty. "You interest me."

Heat rose on Katya's cheeks once more. She kept getting caught off guard by Natasha's simple yet effective smooth-talking. Everything she said seemed to have some sort of double meaning. Her body could not keep up with its reactions.

"History is my thing. History and literature. But the literature is just a hobby," she said awkwardly, trying to hide her red cheeks. Her studies and hobbies always sounded boring to begin with, but next to Natasha's they looked even worse. Katya grimaced. "I told you it's boring."

"No, it's not!" Natasha rushed to reassure her. "I've always envied people who could quote Hemmingway off the top of their heads. Are you one of those people?"

"Kind of." Katya smiled shyly when she realized that Natasha was being genuine.

"That's cool." The redhead smiled. "Everyone has their own interests, don't be embarrassed of yours."

Katya wasn't used to the conversation going this way. It was a breath of fresh air. "Most people think it's lame," she said as she popped the trunk of her terribly plain and old Honda Civic.

Natasha shrugged, picking up the first box she saw. "People will always have opinions, so you are better off just doing what you like."

"Can't disagree." Katya smiled at her. Would things finally be different? Would she finally fit in somewhere? The day started off with lots of frustration but now the future looked very hopeful. Maybe she would finally feel at home somewhere.

It took the both of them three trips to get everything upstairs, after which Katya bought Natasha an iced coffee to thank her. She was drinking that as she scrolled on her phone and absentmindedly talked to Katya while Katya unpacked her stuff.

Everything she had was in these boxes, her whole life. She had no family to store anything with, so all of it had to fit within the four walls of this room. There was some odd stuff in some of these boxes. But Natasha didn't ask her about anything. Overall, she had been nothing but considerate and an amazing roommate.

"This campus is full of disgusting boys."

Katya jumped. She had her back turned to the door, and with the business in the hallway hadn't heard someone stop in their doorway. It was a small blonde with her hands in her pockets. She looked annoyed, bored and disgusted all at the same time, like a moody teenager. Questionably, Katya looked at Natasha.

The woman sighed and put her phone down. "Kat, meet my little sister, Yelena. Yelena, this is Katya, my roommate."

As if she was only now realizing there was another person in the room, the blonde—Yelena—looked at Katya. Then she let out the loudest gasp. "Oh my god, they put you with a nerd." She laughed.

Katya blushed and looked away. That's not the first time she's heard that. In fact, people all throughout her life had taken the liberty of calling her that. It wasn't her looks per se—she didn't wear braces, outdated clothes, or thick-rimmed glasses. She was a normal kid, in normal clothes, with a delicate, modern-looking pair of glasses balancing on her nose. And, if Katya might say so herself, she wasn't ugly.

No, it was the things she did and liked that put a sticker on her. First of all, her introvertness and her shyness. It had gotten a lot better with age. She didn't stutter or stumble over her words as much anymore, but her shy nature stayed. It made that she never quite fit in with anyone. She didn't have big friend groups or hang around the popular kids. She usually had one good friend who she could sit in peaceful silence with.

Then there were the books, the literature, the movies she watched. Katya realized very young that she was different from the other girls in her class. She preferred the works of writers long gone, liked her movies black and white, and would rather spend her Friday afternoon reading than going to parties. They bullied her for having her lunch break in the library, reading alone, for getting an A on every test. Her interest lay with history, not with the latest Hollywood gossip.

It shouldn't get to her, but in their cores, everyone wanted to belong, to be liked. She couldn't simply turn off her human instinct.

Natasha's hands curled into fists, and it looked like she was going to explode on her sister, until an older woman stepped into the room. Her hair was so dark brown it nearly looked black, and her face held a stern expression. She was also incredibly gorgeous. "Yelena Belova! That is not how I raised you!"

Yelena cringed. "Sorry, Mama," she muttered.

The woman's scowl disappeared as she turned to Katya, a warm, motherly smile appearing on her face instead. "Hello, my dear. I'm Melina, Natasha's mother. Please excuse my rude daughter. I promise I raised them both better than that."

A warm feeling flushed through Katya's body. "It's okay, ma'am. Natasha helped me carry the rest of my stuff up from my car."

"Good girl." Melina smiled proudly at her daughter. Natasha rolled her eyes, clearly not at ease with her family around a stranger. "If you don't need us anymore, Yelena and I will be leaving."

"Yes, please take her out of here."

Anger flashed across Yelena's face. "I sacrificed my free day for you, you ungrateful—"

"Girls!" Melina sighed, shaking her head. With pity, she looked at Katya. "I wish you luck with her, my dear—"

"What does that mean?" Natasha exclaimed.

"---and be nice to each other. Natasha, if you need me, I'm just a call away."

"And just a town away." She rolled her green eyes again. "No need for emotional goodbyes."

"Well, I am gonna miss you."

"I'm not," Yelena mumbled under her breath, smiling innocently when her mother glared at her.

Natasha sighed and started to walk them out the door. Like a dog herding sheep. Katya tried not to laugh as Melina and Yelena stumbled over each other into the hallway. "Mhm, goodbye now. Thank you for helping me today." Natasha closed the door in their faces, locking it for good measure. A pleasant silence filled the room. "I'm sorry about her."

"It's alright." Katya shrugged, though her brain was still trying to process what just happened. "I'm used to being called a nerd. It's not an insult."

"She meant it as one. She's a dick." Natasha chewed on her lip, clearly ashamed and embarrassed of her sister's behavior. It meant a lot to Katya that it mattered so much to her.

"It's okay, Natasha, really."

The redhead smiled carefully. "Melina is probably yelling at her now, though."

Katya laughed. "Their faces as you pushed them out the door..."

"If I hadn't, they would still be standing here, arguing." Natasha returned to her bed, falling back into the same position as before they were rudely interrupted. It already felt so domestic, so comfortable. They could exist together and do their own thing without bothering the other.

"Your sister is completely different from you, isn't she?" Katya asked as she continued her unpacking.

"Yes and no. She's more moody, sassy, rude." Katya chuckled when Natasha rolled her eyes. "But she's driven, hard working, and incredibly loyal to the people she loves. She will fight someone for you... Literally… She loves punching people."

Katya laughed. "She sounds like a good sister to have."

"She'll do." Natasha suddenly perked up, like someone flipped the switch of focus in her brain. Smirking, she studied the boxes on Katya's side of the room. "So, in which one of those is your lingerie?"

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

Orientation had broken Katya's brain. She'd gotten so much information at once that she literally had a headache. A bad one. Add that to a bad night of sleep—only four hours in total because of her new surroundings and anxiety—and she was ready to crash.

She unlocked her door and stumbled into the room, not surprised to see it empty. Natasha's shoes were gone and her bed was made. From what Katya learned yesterday, she seemed to know a lot of people, so she was undoubtedly chatting with every person she ran into. Maybe she wouldn't even return until late. At least Katya had her number.

She took advantage of Natasha's absence to take a long shower. Then she drew the curtains closed and laid down for a nap, her headache already subsiding after chugging two glasses of water. Her eyelids were so heavy, sleep tugged on her brain…

When her phone rang.

Katya let out the loudest groan, hurting her head in the process. Who dared to interrupt her nap? Ideally, she would have ignored it, but it could be Natasha or somebody else important. Blindly, she felt around until her fingers wrapped around her phone, her eyes squinting against the bright light to read the name on the screen.

Tony.

Yep, that made sense. That man always had the worst timing.

"What?" Katya snapped.

"What a way to greet me. Are you busy?" He gasped dramatically, then lowered his voice. "Wait, are you finally getting laid?"

Katya sighed, the tips of her ears burning. Ever since he stopped seeing her as a kid, he was trying to get her laid. Unsuccessfully. "No."

"Then you got time for me. Did you get settled in?"

"If you were actually here to help me, you would have known," she said accusingly. "But you're too busy slutting yourself out in Miami."

"Going on holidays is important," Tony said casually. Katya rolled her eyes. He wasn't vacationing, he was partying and drinking. Club music boomed in the background of the call. His classes didn't start for another week. "You know what's also important? If your roommate is hot."

Katya groaned, reaching for the curtain to tug it open. She was so glad this was not a FaceTime call, or he would have seen how red her face was. "I'm not entertaining you with an answer."

"So she is." His stupid grin could be heard in his voice. She wanted to slap him. "What's her name?"

Katya hesitated. Whenever she told him about her crushes, Tony would go and mingle. It wouldn't be the first time he scared one away, but if she didn't tell him now, he would show up next week on her doorstep. Even worse. "Natasha," she answered reluctantly. "You wouldn't like her, she's ginger."

"Wait. A Natasha with red hair? Does she have big tits and a great ass?"

As much as Katya wanted to yell at him for objectifying women, she couldn't help but blush. Of course, her gay ass had not been able to resist taking a look at Natasha's body. Subtly and respectfully, of course. Her thoughts had not been subtle or respectful though, but they were safely inside her head so it was okay. She wasn't that kind of person.

"She looks great, yes."

Exactly at that moment, Natasha freaking Romanoff herself burst through the door, looking incredible as always. Denim shorts, tank top, messy ponytail—Katya's heart skipped a beat. Nobody should look that good after a full day of walking around in the late summer heat. God, she was a mess for her.

"Who looks great?" Natasha smirked, dropping her bag to the ground. "Some girl at orientation already grabbed your attention?"

"Uh—I…no. There's nobody," Katya stammered, watching wide-eyed as Natasha took the hair tie out her hair and shook all those gorgeous curls loose. Her biceps flexed subtly when she fluffed it up.

"Uhu. Better give me a chance too before you set your sights on someone," Natasha teased.

Katya's breath caught in her throat. Was she dreaming? "Y-You?"

"Yeah. Unless you're not into girls." Natasha smiled smugly when she glanced at Katya's stunned expression. "I thought so. Me too."

If this were a cartoon, Katya's eyeballs would have bulged out of her head. Surely, she was dreaming now. There was no way this was reality. "You're gay?"

Natasha shrugged, grabbing a towel from the cabinet. "I'm a little bit of everything. As long as it's hot and kissable, I'm kissing it." She smirked, and then she closed the bathroom door behind her like she hadn't just turned Katya's whole world upside down.

There was an error in her brain. Her brain had flatlined. Open-mouthed, Katya stared at the door her roommate had disappeared through. She was sweating. Did Natasha seriously just say that she is into girls and she wants a shot with her? Was her headache actually a stroke and was she hallucinating?

"Shut the fuck up. Your roommate is Natasha Romanoff?"

Katya jumped. She'd completely forgotten that she was on the phone with Tony, and that he just heard everything. Her heart was racing in her chest. "Is that supposed to mean anything to me?"

He sighed. "You're hopeless. You need to get out more. She has a reputation for crashing college parties since she was 15. She's basically a legend."

It all made sense now. The guys who knew her, her popularity, why she knew her way around campus so well. She cuddled up with college guys while she was still in high school.

How in the world did Katya, a nerd, get matched up with someone like what? Some funny forces were at play here. Someone up there must be laughing very hard.

"Okay, bye now." She just caught the start of Tony's protests when she cut off the call. She loved him, but she needed a moment to process these developments, and his endless yapping in her ear did not let her think clearly.

He came into her life at a time where she needed someone the most. Orphaned since birth, Katya grew up in orphanages across the country. The last one she lived in, from age thirteen to literally last week, she met him. He'd protected her on the first day, when some older guys bullied her, and from there, he'd become her big brother. She saw him as that, too; family. Did he know Natasha personally?

Katya panicked when the shower turned off in the other room. Like, had a full-on silent panic attack. Not enough time had passed to process anything or to calm down. She couldn't face Natasha again. Not yet. What if she continued the conversation where it left off?

Quickly, she dived for her laptop and headphones, and put on the first TV show she could find. When Natasha came out of the bathroom, she didn't even spare her a glance. It was possibly the best performance of her life, pretending she was interested in her show and her heart wasn't pounding in her ears.

But Katya looked at her from the corner of her eye whenever she could, trying to figure out what the hell she was doing. Natasha seemed to be getting ready for something. She did her makeup and spent at least ten minutes in front of her closet, trying to figure out what to wear. Katya's eyes widened when she came out of the bathroom in a short, tight party dress later. There were curves and skin everywhere.

Frowning, Katya slid her headphones off. "Are you going somewhere?"

Natasha smiled over her shoulder, slipping her earrings in. Her eyes looked incredibly bright with the dark eyeshadow around it. Mesmerizing. "There's a welcome-back party in the Kappa Delta Psi house."

"Aren't those for older students?"

Amusement flickered across the redhead's face. "I have a fake ID." She grabbed a pair of heels from under her bed and slipped those on too. They made her toned legs look incredible, miles long. Katya tried not to drool. "You should come."

Katya quickly shook her head, her anxiety surging at the thought of a college party. "Oh, no, thank you. Parties are not really my thing."

Natasha chuckled, a beautiful sound that sent the butterflies in Katya's stomach into a frenzy. "Alright. I'll be back late. Don't wait up." She swung her small purse over her shoulder and set out for the door. Her beautiful hair swung left and right over her exposed back, her pale skin glowing in the light of the setting sun. She looked ethereal. Katya called her name before she decided to.

"Nat?"

With her hand hovering above the doorknob, Natasha looked back. "Yes?"

Katya wanted to tell her that she looked beautiful. That her hair was amazing, that her makeup was flawless, that the dress fit her perfectly. That she was the most beautiful woman she'd ever seen. But the moment she opened her mouth, she chickened out. "Have fun."

A bright smile curled on her dark red lips. "Thanks."

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flurrys-creativity · 1 year ago

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Happy Death Day

Pairing: Ateez (OT8) x GN!Reader; Genre: Royal AU, SMUT, PWP; Rating: nsfw, MDNI, 18+; Warnings: mentions of death sentences, mentions of prisoners, suggestive, oral (m receiving) eight different times, hints of becoming a concubine; Wordcount: 3.528

Summary: Once a month eight princes sat down to discuss the prisoners futures. So when it was your turn and they asked for your statement, you said something that would change your fate.

A/N: Due to someone sharing Ateez royal concept pictures in a server, my brain went wild. And after sharing my thoughts, I promised @sanjoongie to write it out. Also thanks to her as well as @daemour and @potatomountain for helping me figure out some details! As always please enjoy this and tell me what you think!

You silently watched as another prisoner got dragged to their feet and presented to the council of future kings.

Ever since the old king died without a successor, six families came forth claiming the throne belonged to them. Though as none of them were able to back down, the sons of those families had to come together and work with equal leadership.

Each task the previous king fulfilled on his own was now distributed to the eight possible candidates. Only the biggest tasks were decided on together. Like Death Day.

Once a month prisoners of the country got presented in front of the council for them to decide on their fate. Some received redemption, others got sent back to prison for another month but most got sentenced to death.

This month you were the last in line to hear your sentence. You watched silently how the other prisoners reacted to their fate - crying, screaming, literally throwing some tantrums. ‘Pathetic’, was the only thing you could think of and with each case you were more and more certain you wouldn’t give anyone the satisfaction of a similar reaction.

Two soldiers came to your sides and grabbed you by your elbows, pulling you to the front of the large throne room. They dropped you in front of the elevated eight thrones, ignoring how you fell down to your knees and silently groaned in pain.

You pressed your lips into a thin line and got up on your knees, placing your shackled hands on your lap and looking up towards the eight men on their respective thrones.

The thrones weren’t as lavish as the original one behind them. The throne of the old king still stood behind the row of make-shift thrones for the eight men. It seemed to be made out of pure gold and integrated into the floor with plush red pillows to make it more comfortable.

The make-shift thrones didn’t appear that extravagant. Made out of dark wood and adorned with simple gold applications. Once the new king got chosen the thrones could be removed again as they weren’t connected to the ground.

As one of the men started retelling your supposed sins, you couldn’t care less to listen to it again. Instead your eyes drifted along the men, taking them in silently.

You noticed quickly how they wore similar uniforms. All of them were covered in the colours red, gold and black.

On the far left from your point of view sat a man, who seemed quite large. He wore a hat, which covered half of his face. Yet you still felt his strong gaze on your form. Prince Song Mingi. His appearance was truly intimidating.

Next to him sat a man whose shoulders appeared to be even broader. He nursed a silver cup in his hand, hiding his subtle smirk behind it. Choi San. He curiously stared at you before he leaned over to his cousin.

Your eyes followed his motion, meeting the expression of a stone-faced man. Choi Jongho. Even under his uniform you could tell he was strong and a man of power. It felt as if every movement of his was calculated - same with calculating everything around him.

While his stare felt unsettling, it was nothing compared to the eyes of the man next to him. Kim Hongjoong definitely had the most unhinged aura surrounding himself. He listened intently to the words of Park Seonghwa, who sat right next to him and read all the information about you from a piece of paper.

He didn’t look up at you, solely focused on his task. Half of his face got hidden behind the paper but you could tell how stunning he looked anyway.

A sudden movement to his right brought your attention further along the line of thrones. Kang Yeosang leaned over to Seonghwa, trying to escape an incredibly touchy Jung Wooyoung with a pressed smile.

Wooyoung lounged on his throne more than sitting on it. His upper body half leaned over to Yeosang, where he tried to grab onto his arm. At the same time his feet dangled over the other side, hitting his overly uninterested cousin every now and then.

Your eyes landed on the large form of Jung Yunho. He rested his chin on his hand and leaned on the armrest of the throne, looking rather bored with the whole situation.

“Y/N?”

Your attention snapped back to Jongho, who raised an eyebrow questioningly. “Didn’t you listen?” He scoffed and shook his head, ignoring the snickering from some of the other men. “I asked for your statement on this matter.”

You tilted your head and blinked a few times to process the question. “What matter? The matter of my death sentence? Are you truly asking me to make a statement about the way I’m going to die?”

San snorted loudly, covering his mouth and face with his free hand.

Hongjoong looked rather amused. A soft grin playing over his lips.

Seonghwa finally lifted his eyes and stared at you, curiosity getting the best of him.

Even Wooyoung and Yeosang halted their spiel and turned to focus on you.

“So you’re not trying to talk yourself out of it? No heartfelt back story, no bribe?”

You looked at Mingi, one side of your lips twitching into a smirk. “I didn’t know bribing was an option.” You pressed your tongue against the inside of your cheek as you took in the reactions of the eight princes in front of you.

Hongjoong gestured for the soldiers to leave the throne hall with a quick motion of his hand. Once the doors were shut behind them he leaned forward. “Currently your sentence is the guillotine. You’d need a rather good bribe to get out of that one.”

You hummed softly as if contemplating his words for a while. “No guillotine could take away the head I’m able to give.”

San choked on his drink yet again and started heavily coughing, needing Jongho to hit his back. Wooyoung leaned over to Yeosang with a wide grin, whispering something into his ear.

To your surprise though it was another prince, who stood up and called your attention. Yunho quietly walked over to you, stopping only a step away from your kneeling form. “Proof it.”

Your lips curled into a knowing grin. You raised your chin upwards, looking at him through your eyelashes. Even though he didn’t say anything else, his gaze was enough for you to know what he expected you to do.

You scooted closer to him without breaking eye contact. With your chained hands you wandered up along his long legs. With nimble fingers you opened his pants, well aware of the stares from the other princes.

Yunho crossed his arms in front of his chest. He refused to acknowledge the effect your touches and your eyes had on him.

Another sly grin flashed over your lips. As much as he tried to keep composure, it was the little things that betrayed him. How the muscles on his thighs tensed, how his jaw ticked off or how his eyes got somewhat glassy.

You palmed his hardening dick through the fabric of his undergarments. You licked over your lips. The size underneath your fingertips made your mouth water and your imagination run wild.

Hongjoong stood up from his own throne. He silently wandered to one side, wanting to have a better view of what was to come. Due to Yunho’s broad frame he wasn’t able to see you at all but he needed to know whether you could hold up to your own claim.

You pulled Yunho’s cock out of his restraints, wrapping the fingers of one hand around the base and pumping it ever so slowly. You moved your head closer to his crotch, kissing along his shaft and up to the head of the dick.

A soft groan escaped Yunho’s throat and his head tilted back ever so slightly. He needed to focus again and it took him every ounce of self control to look back down. His breath hitched when you opened your mouth and swirled your tongue around the tip of his cock.

You forgot about everything and everyone around you, solely focusing on Yunho’s dick. You opened your mouth further and descended on his cock, taking him deeper into your wet cave.

“Fuck”, Yunho cursed under his breath, all composure forgotten now that you bobbed your head on his dick and looked at him with big, innocent eyes. His breath became more irregular with the fast pace you set.

As if possessed he grabbed a fistful of your hair, pushing you even further down his shaft. The soft garbled noises you made as he hit the back of your throat turned him on even more.

Tears formed in the corners of your eyes and you tried to relax your jaw and even your breathing to accommodate Yunho’s huge cock. Still, whenever he hit the back of your throat you couldn’t stop the gagging sound from escaping.

A string of more curses fell from Yunho’s lips until he suddenly stilled, shooting his load down your throat.

Out of nowhere Wooyoung appeared in your line of view as he pulled Yunho away from you. He whistled in acknowledgement once he saw your empty mouth when you licked some spit from the corner of your lips.

“Guess, our little prisoner proved it.” Jongho stood next to Hongjoong, observing the situation in front of him.

“What? No!” Wooyoung hurried to Yeosang and pulled him to your form as well. “Anyone can give head for one person! It gets interesting whether Y/N is able to give even more.” With that he positioned Yeosang right in front of your face and pulled his pants down, ignoring the weak protests of his friend.

Yeosang was already hard but when you glanced up at his face you noticed the deep red blush on his cheeks. He covered half of his face with one of his large hands, avoiding to look at you or any of the other princes. Yet he didn’t try to remove himself from the situation.

You kissed the tip of his dick, relishing in the shiver that ran through his whole body. For a while you only took the tip in, letting your tongue swirl around it and suck on it ever so gently.

Yeosang whimpered, not even trying to keep silent. His eyelids fluttered shut. More and more tremors of pleasure ran through his body.

To both your surprises Wooyoung grabbed the back of your head and pushed you forward, holding you down on Yeosang’s cock.

Your nose pressed against his sternum. The sudden movement made you choke around his dick, tears immediately running down your cheeks. You barely managed to breathe properly, feeling a slight sense of panic as Wooyoung didn’t let go of your head.

Yeosang on the other hand couldn’t help himself and came down your throat, moaning loudly with every spurt.

Wooyoung finally pulled you off of Yeosang. Though he didn’t give you any time to recover, pushing his own dick into your open mouth almost immediately.

Your hands came up to his thighs, keeping you steady during the rough movements. After a few hard thrusts you were able to take over, making Wooyoung a moaning mess. You bobbed your head, varying the pace from moment to moment. Still, you wanted to edge him even more. You carefully pulled back your lips, grazing his shaft with your teeth.

“Ah!” Wooyoung quivered from your ministrations. His knees wobbled dangerously and his whines became more and more desperate. “Please, fuck, please let me cum.”

You hollowed your cheeks, encouraging him to follow his pleas. Hot spurts of cum trickled down your throat.

Wooyoung came with an outcry. As soon as he finished, he stepped back on shaking legs. A thin line of spit connected your lips to his dick until he reached enough distance.

You observed him a moment longer as he ran his fingers through his hair. He looked back at you with half lidded eyes, the pleasure still evident on his features.

“So far our little prisoner only handled one at a time”, Hongjoong stated with a wicked grin. He glanced over at Mingi and motioned him to come closer with a nod of his head.

You watched as both men moved over to your sides. Their height difference made your head spin with imaginations of what was to come. Your eyes switched between both men, barely noticing how they freed themselves and leisurely pumped their dicks. You could only focus on your rapidly beating heart and the heat building inside of your body.

Mingi tapped his dick against your cheek, moving your attention to his long cock. “Open up”, he told you with another tap - this time on your lips.

You followed his command without wasting a second, even letting your tongue roll out.

“Listens quite well”, Mingi let the others know as he pushed himself into your awaiting mouth. He grunted deeply and placed his large hand on the top of your head, which nearly covered it completely.

Even with his hand on your head, you had to work for him. You chose the tempo and how deep you actually wanted to go.

But just as you found your rhythm, Hongjoong cleared his throat behind you. He grabbed you by your neck and pulled you off of Mingi’s dick. Hongjoong chuckled at seeing your tear-stained face. “Don’t forget about me, gorgeous.”

You silently shook your head. You’d never forget about him, you wanted to tell him.

Hongjoong still pumped his own dick, glancing down at himself to indicate you should go to work now.

While he wasn’t as long as Mingi’s, you still had to relax your jaw while sucking him off. To your surprise though, Hongjoong pushed you away from himself after a moment, motioning for you to focus on Mingi again.

Almost delirious from kneeling between two princes, you felt bold enough to raise your chained hands to use them on Hongjoong’s cock while blowing Mingi.

You changed between both of them, ignoring how tired your arms got, until Hongjoong commanded you to sit still.

Mingi and Hongjoong did the rest, only seconds later spurting strings of cum over your face and upper body.

You wiped your face with your fingers and licked them clean right after it. A smile spread over your lips, when you noticed the lustful eyes of the men as they stepped back to make place for someone else.

San’s gaze seemed soft on the surface. He cupped your face, helping you to clean off the cum. He grinned when you eagerly opened your mouth to clean his thumb, silently thanking him for his help.

You swirled your tongue around his digit, looking up at him through your lashes. With every move of your tongue though, you noticed how his eyes darkened and the lust grew more and more prominent.

San pressed his thumb down on your tongue, smirking when you tried fighting against it. He forced your mouth open. His smirk grew once your jaw slackened. San grabbed his dick with his free hand and rubbed it over your lips, smearing his precum over them.

You wanted to wrap your lips around his cock, wanted to lick along his shaft with your tongue but you couldn’t do anything - just sit there and keep your mouth open for San.

Only towards the end did San let go of your jaw, ordering you to finish him off.

You wrapped your hands around his base while you hollowed your cheeks to go down on him. You tried rotating your wrists for an extra kick but the limited movements of your hands made the job slightly harder.

You noticed how San’s nose scrunched up the closer he got to his release. You moved your head back, resting his twitching cock on your outstretched tongue.

San watched how string after string of cum shot into your mouth and pooled on your tongue. He groaned and closed his eyes, throwing his head back until his load emptied out.

With a small smirk you kept your mouth open and moved your tongue around for a bit, playing with his cum before you swallowed it.

You sat back on your heels, licking over your lips. Even though your head and thoughts were spinning, you knew you weren’t done yet. You thought the next prince would simply step in front of you but when you turned your head, Jongho beckoned you towards him.

You pushed yourself up on your feet - the first few steps slightly uncertain from kneeling for quite some time. You walked up the five steps and stopped in front of Jongho, raising one eyebrow as you looked down at him.

Jongho chuckled and simply leaned back, crossing his arms behind his head. He looked at you, daring you to blow his mind.

Without hesitation you dropped down on your knees again. Your hands wandered over his strong thighs and up to the waistband of his pants. You giggled softly when Jongho lifted his hips to help you remove his pants.

His eyes darkened and focused on you even more after hearing your giggle. Jongho swallowed harshly. Somehow - even without your mouth on his dick yet - he understood the reactions of the others.

You started with small kitten licks, fascinated Jongho only made little hums as a reaction. Trying to get even more out of him, you went down on him. You didn’t go slow nor tried teasing him. You simply desired to take all of him in.

“Shit.”

If you would have been able to, you would have smirked upon hearing him curse and seeing how his mask slowly broke down. The second you felt his dick twitching inside your mouth, you inhaled through your nose deeply and then pushed yourself down on him until your nose pressed against his sternum. You stayed in that position and only moved away once you milked Jongho dry.

Seonghwa appeared next to you and gently pulled you up on your feet, smiling awkwardly when your attention drifted to him. His beauty entranced you.

“You did so well already”, Seonghwa mumbled and guided you a few steps away from Jongho. He had watched the other princes patiently, keeping silent about his painfully hard dick. He had watched how some of them were hard again and simply resumed to please themselves while they watched you intently. Seonghwa though hadn’t touched himself at all.

“I’ll do well for you too”, you whispered back, hands already rubbing over his clothed dick.

Seonghwa exhaled sharply and closed his eyes. He took in the feeling, shuddering from the pleasure running through his whole body. “Please.”

Ever so slowly you got down on your knees one more time, removing his pants and undergarments at the same time.

You wrapped your fingers around his shaft, using your thumb to circle his leaking hole. You looked up to his face, noticing how he bit down on his lower lip.

He barely opened his eyes - just enough to see you opening your lips and enveloping them around the head of his cock. Seonghwa praised you softly, brushing strands of your hair out of your face over and over again.

Once Seonghwa came, you were barely able to swallow his load before he pulled you up on your feet again and slammed his mouth on yours. He parted your lips with his tongue, licking along your lips, teeth and own tongue as well - tasting his and maybe even the cum of the others.

His kiss turned your world upside down. Your thoughts tumbled through your head without any control, just like your desire swirled through your whole body. It yearned for more.

After Seonghwa broke the kiss and guided you back to your spot before the eight thrones, you silently stood there - eyes unfocused, breathing irregular and mouth slightly open.

The eight princes had found their respective seats again, sharing meaningful glances between one another.

“I think all of us can agree that your statement wasn’t just a bluff”, Hongjoong announced, pulling you out of your trance.

“And we’re willing to redeem you.”

“Under one condition”, Wooyoung chimed in and somewhat interrupted Seonghwa, who momentarily glared at him but returned to look at you with a smile and a nod.

“What condition?” You asked carefully, eyeing each of the princes.

“You’ll stay at the palace.” Jongho told you simply.

“Make use of your head.” San had his silver glass back in his hand and toasted it towards you with a wink.

Yunho shifted to the edge of his seat and leaned forward. “Maybe even more than just your head.” A smirk played over his lips as his eyes wandered along your form.

“We wouldn’t want to send you to the guillotine after all.”

You straightened upon hearing Mingi’s words. But when you turned your head to look at him and saw a teasing grin on his face, you relaxed again and nodded in confirmation.

Yeosang’s deep voice pulled your attention at last: “I hope you’re ready for what is to come.”

Taglist: @xavi-in-kpopland @songsoomin

#pirateeznet #cultofdionysusnet #kwritersworldnet #kdiarynet #wkcnet #kvanity #ateez #ot8 #kim hongjoong #park seonghwa #jung yunho #kang yeosang #choi san #song mingi #jung wooyoung #choi jongho #one shot

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sleepiexx · 2 years ago

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The Afterparty

Leon S. Kennedy x fem!Reader

Summary: Leon visits his best friend who he’s pining over late at night, she greets him with open arms and slurred laments of love

Warnings: mentions of alcohol use, reader is drunk throughout the story, Leon is a chronic overuser of the word “sweetheart”

Word count: 1376

(Y/N) had given Leon the spare key to her house so that he could help out in case of an emergency. That was the official reason between the two, of course, but (Y/N) didn’t mind him popping in whenever, she told him as much. Yet still, at 3:23 am, coming over to her’s directly after a long mission, Leon felt like a creep.

She’d told him a million times how she may as well be nocturnal and that him stopping by at odd hours of the night unannounced was no problem, but that did nothing to quell the awkwardness Leon felt stepping into his friend’s house.

He couldn’t tell whether or not she was awake. From the foyer he could tell that lights were on in the house, but none looked like the overhead. Just some mood lighting she had set to purple.

“If you’re here to kill me, come back when I’m sober so I can enjoy it!” She yelled. So she had heard him coming in.

He followed the noise to her living room where she sat, back facing Leon in a strappy backless dress. It was one of the dresses she frequently wore when she went out; specifically Leon’s favorite, not that she knew that. He walked up behind her, cautious and quiet so he could go undetected.

“Not here to kill you sweetheart,” he hummed into her ear, anxiousness traded for amusement.

She screamed and fell forward, off the couch, scrambling to turn around and see who it was, quickly realizing it was just Leon.

“Leon!! You fucking creeper.” She pouted, throwing a pillow at him as he laughed at her fright.

She stood up and stumbled over to him. Leon took note that she still had her strappy heels on so either she just got back, or she was really trashed. He hoped it was the latter as he wasn’t too fond of the idea of her coming home late at night on her own, likely intoxicated. She shoved her face into his chest and wrapped her arms around him.

“I missed you so much, it should be illegal for you to be gone that long.” She slurred, nuzzling further into his chest.

Definitely trashed.

(Y/N) was an incredibly emotional and touchy drunk. A few shots and she wanted three things, world peace, to tell everyone she knew that she loved them, and to snuggle up with the nearest person, which most of the time ended up being Leon.

She pulled away, hands still wrapped around his biceps; or at least trying to, lord knows what a feat it would be to wrap one hand around his entire bicep. Her eyes ran over his face, seemingly looking for something. Leon had no clue what.

“Are you hurt? You didn’t get hurt did you?” She worried aloud.

He smiled softly and shook his head, muttering a “nope.”

She nodded very seriously, “good because you can’t get hurt. That would be very bad. I love you too much.”

“I’m sure you do sweetheart,” he chuckled, pushing her back down to the couch.

“I’m serious! You’re my best friend, and- and you mean so much to me. I don’t know what I’d do if you-”

Leon cut her off, trying to redirect her attention. If she kept going, she’d talk herself to tears about how upset she’d be if Leon died, and he wasn’t too fond of seeing her cry.

“I know, I know sweetheart. I love you too, now why don’t we watch a movie or something?”

“Only if we can cuddle,”

“I think we should both get changed before that.” He said, gesturing at his field attire and her clubbing dress; eyes looking her up and down before staring at her feet, “why are you still wearing your shoes?”

“I couldn’t figure out how to get them off. Straps are hard,” she frowned.

He nodded in agreement, sitting on the couch at her feet and patting his thigh, “Yea they are. Let me do it.”

She laid her legs across his lap where he’d been patting and watched as he carefully undid the straps. She sat up muttering, “You’re so pretty Leon, do people tell you how pretty you are?”

“Just you.”

“Well more people should tell you because you’re such a handsome man.” She coo’d, squishing his cheeks.

He shook his head. As he finished with her shoes, he grabbed them in one hand, helping (Y/N) up with the other.

“C’mon, princess, let’s get changed.”

“Hehehe ‘princess,’ you’re so sweet Leon, how do you not have a girlfriend yet?” (Y/N) giggled.

‘Probably because I’m hopelessly in love with my best friend,’ Leon thought to himself, he wouldn’t actually admit that though, not now at least.

“Not a lot of girls want to date a guy who’s always gone for work.” He said instead.

(Y/N) frowned at that, “But you’re so worth it, Leon. Other girls are crazy, I’d date you.”

Leon blushed slightly at the thought but denied it nonetheless, the slur of her words still too strong to take anything she said seriously. “You’re drunk, sweetheart, you don’t know what you’re saying.”

“Drunk words are sober thoughts,”

Leon shook his head, “C’mon now, we gotta change.” He said, walking into her room and toward the dresser, placing her shoes right beside it in a place she wouldn’t trip. “Do you still have the sweatpants and tee shirt you stole from me?”

“You mean the ones you left here for sleepovers?”

“Sure,” he replied.

She grinned, going up to the dresser herself and digging through one of the drawers, pulling out and presenting Leon with his clothes. “Yes, I do.”

Leon took them from her and went to the guest bathroom to change, leaving her to do the same. As he stepped out of the bathroom he heard his name being called.

“Leon!”

“Yes, sweetheart?” He called back, standing outside her bedroom door.

“I need help,” she whined.

“Can I come in?”

“Mhm”

He opened the door, revealing (Y/N) stuck halfway in her dress.

“There’s stupid straps on this stupid dress too.”

Leon laughed hard at the way she was stuck awkwardly between the straps.

“Hey, don’t laugh at me! You’re being mean.” She frowned.

He faked some pity for her, “aw I’m sorry (Y/N), let me help you.”

She beamed at him, lifting her arms so he could pull the dress up from the bottom, definitely not the way it was supposed to be taken off. No wonder she got stuck.

“Turn around.”

“Why?” She asked, still not following.

“So I can reach the back straps, and so that you don’t flash your tits at me.”

She closed her eyes and turned up her nose, turning around nonetheless. “They’d be the best pair of tits you ever saw,” she snarked.

He shook his head at her antics and undid the straps. Carefully, he slipped the dress down off of her.

“Arms up,” he muttered.

As she followed his command, he slipped the oversized tee shirt she had onto her.

“I trust that you can put your shorts on yourself?”

She nodded, not caring at all that Leon was still there as he’d likely already just seen whatever there was to see from the back and slipping on her shorts. She spun around quickly.

“Can we watch a movie and cuddle now?”

“Yes we can watch a movie and cuddle now,”

(Y/N) smiled and slid into her bed, lifting one side of the covers and patting it as an invitation for Leon to come sit next to her. He did as she gestured and she instantly snuggled into his side.

Grabbing the remote to turn on the tv, he asked, “What movie are we watching?”

She shook her head, “I dunno, just pick something.”

He nodded, turning on the first movie that looked good. He knew it would end up just being background noise.

(Y/N) yawned quietly and Leon turned to her, seeing her eyes fighting to stay open.

“You tired?”

She nodded, finally closing her eyes. Just before her breathing steadied she murmured a quiet, “I love you, Leon.”

He smiled, holding her tighter. “I love you too sweetheart.”

#leon s kennedy x reader #leon scott kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x you #leon kennedy x you #resident evil fic

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garricks4thwingqueen · 8 months ago

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My New Pillow: Dain Aetos X Reader

Prompt: Your My New pillow. Credit for this prompt goes to @deity-prompts

This fic is apart of the #FourthWingBirthdayBash !

Dain Aetos × Rebellion Garrick's younger sister reader.

Word Count 1469

Being a child of the rebellion was never easy. You've managed to endure your first year at Basgiath but not without lack of training from your older brother Garrick, relieving of tension via friends with benefits style from someone your older brother would definitely not approve of or any of your friends for that matter. Frankly you shouldn't even be attracted to the man but yet you couldn't help but not feel head over heels in love with him. Yet you and Dain Aetos remained friends with benefits for the most obvious of reasons.

After war games this year and after the outbreak at Basgiath you find yourself at home in Aretia with your brother, Xaden and the other rebellion children along with 100s of other cadets that choose to come to your side after the chaos ensued. Even Dain had come along, although you were pretty sure it was only for your sake. After how war games ended this year Dain was basically enemy number one of your group.

You had never been more thankful that you had your own room in Riorson House due to your father's work with Xaden's father. Both you and Garrick had often found Riorson House more your home then your actual home. You currently found yourself on the verge of mixed emotions. You were mostly conflicted between your love for Dain still and every God damned fucking thing happening. Especially losing Liam. Even though your group majority blamed Dain you didn't. You knew he only knew one side of the story until you told him the story your group grew up with. You told him about war games and how everything went down including the Wyvern and the Venin; including how you held your best friend in your arms as he was dying and finally including the scream of Deigh that you'll never forget. Dain apologized for his father's actions that affected the rebellion group during war games; he felt awful and you knew he did. He had even been taking the shit from the others like a champ. Needless to say, your anxiety has been on the rise lately.

You sniffled and wiped your falling tears as you got up and answered the soft knock on your door and gave Dain a half assed smile and a barely whispered “hey,” as you stepped out of the doorway so he could come in. You took in his shirtless and sweaty frame and noticed a few new scratches on his face. “You missed dinner.” he said soothingly, wrapping you into a hug. “I wasn't hungry and those are new.” You stroked his scratched cheek as you shrugged your shoulders as Dain led you both to your bed. “I wanted to check on you earlier but I figured I should at least wait until your brother went to bed and training with a few gryphon riders.” “You don't want to die yet, do you?” You smirked with a yawn. With that you earned a chuckle from Dain and that had quickly become one of your favorite sounds this year “I guess it is late. I should go.” He said going to stand. “No wait.” “Y/N?” “Please stay. I haven't been sleeping the greatest since I’ve been home.” you admitted softly. With a nod of Dain's head he took his shirt off and stripped to his boxers and climbed back into bed with you.

You snuggled into him and laid your head onto his chest as he pulled you close. This was a slightly new feeling for the both of you. Usually you just fucked in your room back at basgiath, Dain never staying long for fear of being caught from the both of you. But now you didn't care and honestly you're done with being just friends with benefits with one of the people you cared most about. You bury yourself into his chest as you feel him wrap his strong arms around you and feel your fingers intertwined together as he holds your hand. “Dain,” you yawn softly. “Mmmm?” You take your gambled risk and say the damned thought that's been on your mind hoping he feels the same way or else you're shit out of a friend. “I love you.” It's silent for a minute but then he grips you tighter and your greeted with the best sound you've ever heard “I love you too Y/N.”

“I can get very used to this.” You mumbled into his chest. Dain chuckled again; “Oh I know you can. I'll just have to deal with your brother first.” “Don't worry about him. I can handle Garrick. He just wants me to be happy.” “And you want to know one thing that's making me very happy right now?” I yawned. “Me?” “Well yeah, but I mean a very specific part of you.”You smirked as you bury yourself into his chest more and trace soft circles on his skin. “A specific part?” Dain smirked back “Yeah my head is super comfy right now. In fact I think your chest is way more comfortable than any pillow I've slept on ever. In fact it's my new favorite pillow.” You smirked with a yawn and kissed Dain softly as he chuckled. And gods did laying on his chest just amplify your favorite sound. “My chest mmmm? Those muscles didn't get there themselves. But they'll accept being your new favorite pillow. I just want my girl safe, happy and loved and she can have me however she likes.” Dain said softly and kissed your forehead.

“Forever? No matter what we are going to get tossed at us and it's going to be a lot of shit. You know that right?” “I know.” He soothed and stroked his fingers through your hair. “Whether it be from my brother or Xaden and not to mention this impending doomed war shit.” “And we will be together through it all, together; I love you. You know we'll have to deal with my father to” He sighed and started tracing your relic which was the largest relic of the females in your group. Almost as large as your brother's. “I think my father is in for a good one next time I see him.” You sighed into his chest burying your face further, if that was possible. “Just be careful please. You don't need to get hurt because of me.” “I can handle him.” Dain said softly and started to pepper kisses down your neck. “Mmm.” Was your only response as you just took in the moment of being with each other. A moment like this you two had never had before but now you couldn't imagine falling asleep any other way from now on.

You woke up to your alarm going off at 5:30 with a groan, but smiled as you felt Dain’s arms tighten around you once more. “Good Morning my sweet girl.” He rasped and kissed your forehead. “Good Morning my Great Dain.” You smirked and kissed him softly. “Great Dain, is that supposed to be a pun?” He smirked. “Maybe.” You teased and ran your finger through his hair as there was a knock at your door. You groaned “Imogen.” Into Dain's chest. He chuckled softly as you yelled “Just a minute Immi and I'll be out.” Impatient as ever Imogen opened your door which you must have forgotten to lock. “Right a minute.” She smirked, taking in the sight before her. She opened her mouth to speak. “Don't start. I'll explain on our run please don't”. You sighed. “Fine but hurry up. Violet is annoying this morning.”

“I forgot about your runs.” Dain smirked. “Shut up. I don't wanna move.” You groaned, burying yourself into him. “Well I certainly don't want to start this off being any more on Imogen's bad side. So up and at ‘em for you.” He smirked, sitting you both up. “Not before a morning kiss.” You smiled and ran his fingers through his hair. He chuckled and compiled by kissing you deeply. You sighed as you started to get dressed. “I'll see you at breakfast, lover.” You sighed and kissed him once more. “I'll see you later my princess.”

You both left your room; Dain heading to the showers and you heading to the back yard of Riorson House to meet Imogen, Violet and Rhiannon who started joining you yesterday. Imogen stood with her arms crossed and a stern unreadable look on her face. You loved Immi and she had always been like a sister to you, that you never had but her bad side was always something you tried to avoid. “Please don't Imogen. Can we talk about it later and alone?” “Fine.” She huffed and added “But don't accept me or everyone else to be remotely happy about this.”

Authors Note: I kind of left this as an open ending for a potential part two! Thoughts?

#fourth wing #fourth wing fanfic #fourthwingbirthdaybash #dain aetos #garrick tavis

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cowboybarzy · 2 years ago

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unexpected part 3 — mat barzal

tbh I didn’t realize how popular this was with you guys which is why I didn’t hurry to write this next part. but if y’all really love it and give me your thoughts (& even ideas on how to continue) I’m definitely willing to write more!!

word count: 4k

I’m just gonna make this part of my summer series bc they did travel and it gives me an excuse (to literally my brain lol) to post this part now! an insta edit will follow shortly! come along the rest of the trip

📍vancouver, canada with mat barzal this is part of the unexpected series, so if you want to see how we got to this point, read PART ONE and TWO

June

"Sshh, sshh. It's okay, it's okay." Mat's soft voice woke you from a short, but deep sleep. You turned as your eyes fluttered open to see him sat up against the headboard soothing your baby girl. "I'm here. You're okay."

Your hand reached up to cradle her tiny head. "She might be hungry. What time is it?"

"Almost four. It hasn't been that long since you last fed her. But look, she's already falling back asleep." His smile grew and you sat up as well to see her eyes slowly closing. "She's so cute."

"She is." You kissed her head and then leaned against Mat's shoulder. "And so big. One month already."

"It went by so fast. I don't want her to grow up."

The last month since you baby girl, Myla, was born was the most stressful and tiring but also the most beautiful and exciting time. The new sleeping schedule was difficult to adjust to and your recovery was harder than expected. People really should talk about it more. But getting to experience both you and Mat become parents and your baby explore the world was indescribable. She already outgrew her newborn sized clothes and loved being awake looking around the room. She loved sleeping in her stroller while you took her on walks, where you and Mat stopped to get ice cream or coffee. Both of your families had come to visit, too, and of course all of your friends. They loved her and you were so grateful for the amazing support system.

Mat's season had ended a couple of days after Myla's birth, but not after his birthday which you unfortunately had to spend apart. But he was home now and took such good care of the both of you. Although the three of you did spend a lot of time in bed, you made it a goal to go outside for walks at least a few times a week. Your family didn't live far so they were able to visit and you even went to visit them a few times when you felt brave enough to leave the house.

"Oh, my god!" Mats voice brought you back to consciousness. You hadn't realized you were falling back asleep on his shoulder until his voice brought you back.

"What?"

"She pooped. Did you not hear that? That was gr– Oh! Ew! Babe, it's leaking out." He started panicking, then gagged as he held her away from his body. "What do I do? What do I do?"

You laughed, falling back into the pillows as you watched him struggle for what his next move should be. "Babe! This is so gross! Help me!"

"Well, go change her!" You watched him, still laughing, as he carried her with extended arms, trying not to gag again. "It doesn't even smell. There's only one baby in this room and it's not her."

He started undressing her, groaning from the mess she had made. "Oh my god, it's everywhere. How? How is her stomach so big to hold that much?"

You got up to see for yourself, making sure beforehand to take a video of Mat trying to handle this situation. "Yeah, we should give her a bath. That is pretty bad."

"It's the middle of the night!"

"So? She's dirty." You laughed patting him on the shoulder. "Welcome to parenthood."

At one month old, babies couldn't laugh yet, but the noises she made could definitely count as it. So you prepped her bathtub. She was small enough to do it in the sink, so it didn't take long to fill the tub with the right temperature water. When Mat put her in, she started screaming. She hated baths for the most part, but unfortunately she had to get through it. She calmed down after a while, enjoying the little massage you were giving her to get her clean. Mat put his arm around you and kissed the top of your head.

"You know, a year ago I definitely would not have imagined us doing this at 4 a.m., but I wouldn't change it for the world."

July

"Ugh, she's so cute."

"So adorable."

"Her little nose. And those cheeks."

"I love her so much," you said, not being able to look up from where your daughter was sleeping in her stroller. You stood around her with Mat's sister and mother, just staring at her. You were supposed to go on a walk to go get lunch, but for some reason (a very cute and sleeping reason) you still hadn't left yet.

"Me, too. Watch out I might steel her," Liana said jokingly. She hugged you tightly. "Thank you for making me an auntie. I thought I'd have to wait for years."

"You almost had to." You didn't want to call your daughter an accident, because she truly was a blessing, but let's not pretend you were trying to become parents. You both tried to contain your laughs, as their mother was right there.

"Okay, let's go," Nadia broke you two up and took ahold of the stroller, before walked out of the house. You followed her, Liana fighting her mother for the right to push the stroller.

A couple days ago, Mat, Myla, and you made it up to Vancouver to spend a few weeks with his family. Myla just turned two months a few days ago and you finally felt comfortable enough to fly with her. A lot of family and friends came over to see her, but things had finally calmed down a bit.

"So, any wedding plans?," Liana asked, after you had made it to the restaurant and the food arrived.

You raised your eyebrows, a small laugh escaping. "How long have you been waiting to ask me that?" She laughed. "Since last time!" And that was about a year ago when you had told her you were pregnant. Mat shut her down immediately, saying you'd wait until after she was born. "Well...?"

"I don't know," you answered. "We haven't really thought about it."

"Oh, come on. You need to get married! For her and for me!" You laughed and her mother elbowed her. "What? I know it's selfish, but please! It would be the most beautiful wedding, I just know it."

She started gushing about her dream wedding for you, detailing everything from flowers to venue to table cloths. Her mother chimed in, equally as excited about the idea. Normally you would have been too, but for some reason the idea of a big wedding didn't seem exciting to you anymore.

And that's what you told Mat later that night when you were ready to go to sleep while feeding Myla. "Your sister, well and mom, are already making wedding plans, just so you know."

He rolled his eyes. "How many times have I told them it's none of their business?"

Myla was done eating, so you handed her over to Mat so he could burp her. "It's fine. It was kind of fun to talk about and see everything we could come up with. But funnily enough, all my life I've dreamed of a big wedding like that, even just a few months ago I would have agreed to it. But now, I don't know, I don't really want that anymore."

"Really?" You looked up at his green eyes.

"Yeah, I don't know. I'd rather have a small thing, with just family and our closest friends. And baby Myla of course."

"That sounds good to me." He leaned to kiss your forehead with a smile and cradled your baby's head.

"Wanna get married? Might as well, we already have a kid." You said it with a laughing tone, expecting him to laugh as well or brush the topic off like you had done since he first asked you about getting married. But he didn't. He jumped out of bed, put Myla in her bassinet, and left the room.

You sat there, shocked. You didn't expect that reaction as well. You were serious about getting married. A couple weeks after Myla had been born you realized that you were being silly before. Of course you wanted to marry him and you knew that he loved you and didn't stay with your just before the baby.

Thankfully, before you could process what just happened, Mat came back and sat back down next to you. "I'm the one that gets to ask that question!," he said, which is when you noticed the little red box in his hand. You mouth opened in shock. Now that, you definitely also didn't expect. "What? You really think I didn't got out and get you a ring after you said no the first time? Please, you can't get rid of me."

"Mat..." He smiled, cupping your cheeks with his big hands before kissing you softly.

"Baby? Do you want to marry me? I don't care about the big wedding anymore either. We literally could go down to city hall tomorrow and do it there. I don't care. I just want you and baby Myla. Now will you please do me the honor of not rejecting me for the millionth time and finally saying yes to being my wife?"

"You are such a jerk," you said as the tears rolled down your face. You were still pretty hormonal and you had a feeling it wouldn't go away. "But yes, I'll marry you."

"Finally." He pressed his lips against yours for a deep kiss that had you falling back against the mattress. But you couldn't fully enjoy the moment for very long, before baby Myla made herself known. You got her out and held her in your arms, soothing her, while Mat held you close to his body pressing tiny kissed against your head.

"Ok, let me see the ring," you whispered when your baby girl calmed and started drifting into sleep. Mat opened the box with a chuckle, as your moth fell open.

"Like it?" You nodded and held your hand out for him to slip the ring on. While it didn't fit as well as it would have pre-pregnancy, at least you were assured that it wouldn't randomly fall off. "Kind is weird that we're doing this at my parents house, but I'll take what I can get. It's your fault though."

"Wha- Why?"

"I was scared as hell to propose to you again. I didn't want to be rejected again."

"Mat, I didn't reject you. I just– I didn't want to get married while pregnant." He cupped your face again with a chuckle.

"I know, I know. I'm just joking." He kissed you over and over again, until you realized that Myla was asleep and you could put her back in her bed.

Mat pulled you on his chest as you both laid down. "Wait, were you kidding about city hall tomorrow?," you asked, keeping your voice low.

"Not really. You wanna do it?" You looked up at him and shrugged.

"Kind of." You both smiled wide. "But wait, no. My family. I want them there."

"Okay, well we could ask them to come here? Or would you rather wait and do it back in New York?"

"Here is good." You fell in love with Vancouver the minute you got out of the airport the first time you came, so getting married here was not an issue for you. "Yeah, I'll just ask my family and some friends if and when they'd be available to come up."

"Okay. We can just invite people and whoever can make it, can make it. If not, then we can always have another little something in New York." You nodded, excitement filling your body.

"But if we're inviting a bunch of people, we can't do it at city hall."

"There's lots of parks and venues around here."

"Or your parents back yard?" You both thought about it for a second, then Mat smiled.

"Yeah, i think they'd be cool with that."

You both giggled excitedly, then he pulled you fully on top of him. "Are we seriously getting married in a few days?"

"Unless you don't want to," you responded.

"You are never ever getting rid of me."

August 2nd

It was wedding day. After a crazy busy 10 days, the day was finally here.

When you had told Mat's family the news the day after you got engaged, they were very excited. His sister screamed so loud, she scared the baby but you couldn't go soothe her since she had you trapped in a massive bear hug. She immediately started planning and listing everything you would need. Everyone was involved in making flowers arrangements, cooking and baking for the party, and getting the house ready to host a wedding.

Your family got to Vancouver a few days before the wedding, also helping greatly. Once your best friends arrived as well, it was time to shop for a dress. While there wasn't much so last minute, you found the perfect simple little dress that you absolutely fell in love with. You even found a little white dress for Myla at a baby store near by.

"Thank you so much for coming." You hugged Sydney Martin tight, then her husband.

"Wouldn't miss this for the world." She smiled and you hugged her again. She had been very supportive and your closest friend during your pregnancy. Since she'd already been through it twice, and none of your friends had experience in that department, you spent a lot of time together. You were so grateful for her and were very thankful she could make it to your wedding.

While both you and Mat felt bad about getting married so last minute and therefore not having all of your friends present, having the ceremony now did feel right to the both of you. And that was all that mattered. And even still with short notice, a lot more of your friends than you expected could make it. With Mat's family, yours and your friends, your guest count was almost up to 50. So lots of people to celebrate your love, but still more intimate than a big wedding you almost had.

You spent the morning of you wedding setting up the tables and decorating everything. Around two, guests started arriving and since you treated this as more of a party, you had time to greet most everybody before having to get ready.

"Alright, time to get dressed." Liana came walking and grabbed your hand.

"Wait." Before she had a chance to pull you away, you turned to Mat to give him a kiss. He reciprocated with a smile. "See you on the other side."

"Love you." He winked, then slapped your ass, before turning back to his friend group.

You made another pit stop to grab your daughter from her grandparents to have her with you while you got ready. Your makeup base was done so all you added was some eyeshadow and eyeliner, while your best friend did your hair. Another friend made sure to take lots of pictures and videos of your day. You fed Myla one more time before handing her back off to your mom, who was going to watch her today so you and Mat could enjoy the day without worrying about her. Then it was time to put on your dress.

"Aw, babe, you look gorgeous."

"Stun-ning!"

Your closest girlfriends friends quickly came to hug and admire you, before posing for a few more pictures.

"Okay! Go time!" Liana, who basically acted as your wedding planner, called when it turned three o'clock. She pulled you into a quick hug. "Ready?"

You nodded, already on the verge of tears when reality started hitting you. You were about to marry your best friend.

"Good, because I am so ready to have you as my sister-in-law." She kissed your cheek and then started getting everyone ready and into position. You kissed your sleeping daughter one last time, then followed everyone downstairs to the backyard, where you were holding the ceremony and party.

Through the windows, you could see the garden beautifully decorated and everybody sitting outside waiting for it to start. You could also see Mat, standing below the flower arch at the end of the aisle, with his best friend and best man Anthony standing next to him as they talked and joked around.

Your mom walked out to find her seat and as soon as Mat saw Myla sleeping in her arms, his eyes lit up. He took her from your mom, gently as to not wake her, and pressed tiny kisses to her chubby cheeks. Your eyes got watery again, watching them and knowing that the overwhelming happiness you felt right now would not go away anytime soon.

The music got a bit louder which was your cue to head outside. Your bridesmaids walked before you, down the shirt aisle you had just helped built this morning. Then you followed, slowly, scared to trip, but not too slow as you were eager to get to Mat.

Mathew. Who looked even more handsome than you though possible, standing at the end of the aisle with that wide goofy grin of his. As you got closer though, you could see his eyes sparkling with tears.

"You look beautiful," he mouthed and stretched his hand out for you to take. You took it, immediately feeling calmer. You looked over to where Myla was sleeping in her carrier and with a reassuring nod from your mom that she was alright, you turned your full attention back to Mat.

And Anthony who in addition to being best man was also officiating your wedding. Over the past few years that you've known Beau, he also became one of your closest friends and you couldn't be happier to have him as Mylas goddaughter and now here to marry your number one best friend.

For the entirety of the ceremony, you felt like you were in a bubble. Only Mat and you. Holding hands. "When I look at the time we've been together,

I always have a smile on my face. Through all the ups and downs we've been through, the one thing that has remained constant is my love for you. The love I feel for you has gone from wild and free to me enjoying the little things about you like going for a walk, seeing your face across a breakfast table, and even changing disgusting poopy diapers in the middle of the night. Love you, My," he said after a pause. You both looked at her with a laugh, still sleeping in her carrier.

"We have years ahead of us but when I look at the years that has passed my heart grows with such love for you that I ache. You are the most amazing partner and the most amazing mama to Myla. You're it and nothing is gonna keep us apart. I love you and always will."

Thankfully, before Mat even began his speech your made of honor handed you a tissue or your makeup would be ruined by now by the tears streaming down your face. 'Love you,' you whispered as you held your hand to his cheek. He smiled, with a quivering lip, and whispered it back. He took your hand and slipped diamond covered ring on your finger. Then you cleared your throat a couple of times and prepared to speak.

"Maty, you're my best friend. Ever since you flashed me that goofy grin of yours, I was gone for you. And I am so lucky you chose me to be on your team. And I promise you that I will choose you as my teammate. I choose you again and again. At the start and finish of every single day, no matter the season no matter the year. I choose you to struggle and succeed with, to fight and make up with, to love and grow old with.

And while I may have to send you to the sin bin sometimes, just know that I'll always be on your side and you can always count on me.

Seeing you grow and become the best father to our newest team member has been the biggest blessing. I am so proud you of. I hope I can make you just as proud. I love you and I can't wait to spend the rest of my life with you."

With shaking hands, it was your turn to slip a ring on Mat's finger. You didn't hear another word until Beau said those magic words: 'you may now kiss your bride'. And he did. Those big hands grabbed the sides of your face and pulled you into him until your lips met. He started out softly, but soon enough he was breathlessly while your friends and family clapped and cheered in the background.

********

You were married. An indescribable feeling floated through you all day, every since you walked down the aisle. Your ring glistened in the Vancouver sun that was starting to set as you chatted with your friends. You friend circle had shrunk every since you found out you were pregnant, a lot of your friends keeping distance and not keeping in touch as much anymore. You didn't blame them. You were still very young and a lot of them weren't ready to settle down or even be surrounded by people that weren't able to go out and get drunk every weekend. You didn't blame them because it took you a few months too to adjust to the idea of being a mother, but it made you even more grateful for the few friends that did stick around. They made you feel so special and supported during your pregnancy and even now they were already the best aunties for baby Myla.

Out of the corner of your eye you saw Mat walking towards you, holding Myla. That sight would never not blow you away and make you feel all warm inside. "This little lady is hungry." He held her out to you and you welcomed her with with cuddles and lots of kisses.

"Where were you?," you asked him as you got ready to feed your daughter.

"I just went to change her. I saw my mom take her in, but I wanted to do it." He answered you puzzled expression, "What? I've barely seen her today. I just wanted to spend a few minutes with her."

Your heart warmed and you leaned into his shoulder. But your moment didn't last very long as the party was already in full swing and people kept coming over to talk to you. You went back to talking to your friends as Mat got pulled away by his.

After Myla was done eating, you decided to put her down for bed and once again tracked Mat down to let him know. "Hey, I'm putting her down." He was sitting with a bunch of his teammates that were able to make it out here who all fawned over baby Myla.

"Come on! Just let me hold her," Oliver whined, stretching his arms out, but Mat slapped them away.

"Absolutely not!" Most of his teammates got to hold her when you first introduced her to them, but Wally was not one of them. He joked around too much around her and was untrustworthy around babies. Those were Mat's words, not yours. He was obviously very protective of his daughter if he wouldn't let his own teammate hold her.

"I won't drop her! Please? Oh, see! She's looking at me," Wally tried again while the rest of you laughed.

"Yeah, she's trying to tell you to shut up. It's not happening." While he was mostly serious, there were joking tones in Mat's voice. You definitely thought they were all just messing with him, so you stayed out of it.

"Hey! Daddy Barz said no, so it's a no," the other Matt (with two Ts) chimed in in his best dad voice, to which your Mat gave him nod of his head.

"That's right."

You rolled your eyes at their banter. "Alright, I'm really putting her down now." Mat stood, but leaned down to where you were holding Myla in your arms so that he could kiss her little head over and over again.

"Good night, princess. I love you." Then he straightened and put his lips on your. "And I love you, wife."

"Love you more, husband."

#mat barzal #unexpected series #mat barzal imagine #mat barzal fic #travel with me summer 23 #mathew barzal #mat barzal fluff #dad!mat #nhl fic #nhl imagine #nhl fanfiction #nhl fics #nhl blurb #nhl insta edit #new york islanders #anthony beauvillier

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sehnsuchts-trunken · 2 years ago

Text

Nice To Meet You - Guys Like You | Part I

an interactive top gun fic series! with a poll waiting for you at the end!

summary: Nat introduces you to the squad for the very first time. You expected a lot, but certainly not two of the most drop-dead gorgeous men ever to flirt with you.

6k only a tw for alcohol ig? otherwise just simping. on every and all ends.

guys like you masterlist | top gun masterlist

Nat's keys clanging onto the living room table should have been your first hint that something was not going to be normal about this evening. That she appeared in your doorway instead of vanishing into the shower next was an absolute red flag.

"We're going out tonight", she announced, not a trace of a smile on her face. You turned off your phone with a sigh and propped your head up on your pillow.

"Gee, not even a 'hello' or 'how are you' today, hm?", you asked.

"You need to go out", she went on, completely brushing over your interruption. She was dead-set on giving you a speech, you could tell. She was still sweaty, her hair slicked back, her flight-suit zipped up, but she was looking at you as though she hadn't just been through hours upon hours of what you'd probably call torture. "You've been just sitting in this room for the past two weeks and I can't stand it anymore."

You sat up with another sigh, tugging at your oversized, sauce-stained shirt that you were suddenly much too aware of.

"Nat, please, I need to get settled first."

"You settled a week ago."

She wasn't taking any bullshit today. She had let you off the hook too many times already, up until now swayed by your half-assed arguments of why you were hiding in your bedroom. "You're going out with us tonight."

"Us?", you asked, dreading the answer. Nat didn't have any friends outside of work here.

"Me and the squad", she said, as if it was the most normal thing in the world to say.

"No", you laughed. "No, definitely not."

She frowned, finally moving out of the doorway and settling at the foot of your bed instead. At least it felt more like an eye-to-eye conversation now.

"It's just the squad", she shrugged.

"Just the squad?", you asked. "Just the squad? Nat, those people fly multi-million-dollar aircrafts on a daily basis, they're all ripped as hell and make thrice the money I made back in San Fran. I don't even have a job."

"First of all, you've applied for jobs, it takes time", she reasoned. (Sometimes you could have slapped her for her rationalism.) "Also I'm one of those people and my job never bothered you before."

You stared at her like she'd gone mad. How could she not get this? Yes, they were normal to her, they were her colleagues, her friends, but to you? Um, hello?

"Yeah, because I have pictures of you pooping your diapers", you said, exasperation lacing your tone. "I've known you for as long as I can remember. Those people have never met me. And I don't need them to meet me at my worst."

Even though she'd been dead-set on getting you out of this apartment, she still softened a little at that.

"You're not at your worst anymore", she reassured, smiling at you. "You're beyond that. You're starting a new life now."

"Still", you snorted. "I'm a nobody compared to you guys."

"God, don't say that!", she groaned, reaching over to squeeze your hand. "That kind of thinking is exactly why you need to get out of here for a few hours. You're coming with me, I don't care what you have to say about it. We leave at eight, we'll get takeout on the way and I promise that if you're not feeling any better by midnight, we'll go home."

You knew that you couldn't argue with her. She was determined to get you out of this apartment and even if you didn't agree, she'd drag you out screaming. She'd have no problem either - she was way stronger than you.

"I hate you", you mumbled, no real malice behind the words. She just grinned and got up to stretch.

"Great", she chuckled. "I'm gonna go shower and then get ready. If you're not done by eight I'm carrying you into the car myself, I don't care."

You just grabbed a lonesome sock from the bed and threw it at her as she turned and walked out, leaving you to yourself, your own thoughts and the realisation that you actually had to meet all those high-maintenance people. It took two seconds before you were tearing open your closet and dragging your shirt over your head. You had barely one and a half hours left to get ready and lord help you if you weren't finished on time.

...

You were buzzing with so much nervous energy when you got in the Uber that you felt like you were about to mutate into a bee. You couldn't imagine that would be any worse than what was about to happen anyway. Honestly, you'd been dreading meeting Nat's friends for months now, but it had got much, much worse when you'd moved out to San Diego. Because it had become a very real possibility. And today, well, today seemed to be the day that all those fears that had been festering for weeks and weeks would truly become reality.

You spent the entire car ride staring out of the window, thinking about how they'd surely all sneer at you, look at you with that expression just in between pity and arrogance that somehow all rich people wore. Maybe there'd be one or two decent people. Hopefully there would. Nat wasn't usually friends with absolute dickheads, but then again even back in highschool she'd got along with most of those popular jocks that wouldn't have looked twice at you. To be fair, she'd thrown some punches here and there, but you'd still rather keep to yourself than meet a bunch of snobs. At least you knew that Nat would be with you and that she wouldn't break her promise - if you weren't enjoying yourself, she'd take you back home dead on twelve.

You let out a last sigh when the car stopped, climbing out of your seat as slowly as you could while Nat paid, trying desperately to stall for as long as you possibly could. But she tutted at you and tucked her arm into yours, dragging you with her through the parking lot and over the threshold.

It didn't take long for you to realise that this was a navy bar. There were very, very few people in civilian clothes - in normal ones, you'd say - most of them were clad in uniforms. You could have rolled your eyes at that alone. Why were navy men always so goddamn eager to show off that they were navy? They couldn't seriously think anyone was going to throw themselves at them just because of their fucking uniforms. You'd much rather keep a very safe distance away from any and all navy guys - a radius of at least two miles.

"There they are", Phoenix said, a grin playing on her lips as she pointed at the corner with the pool tables. You internally braced yourself, taking another deep breath before you even dared to look where she was pointing, clutching the little purse you'd slung over your shoulder to ground you.

The bar wasn't particularly crowded yet and you could make out a group of people - not in uniform, thank god - huddled around both of the pool tables. As far as you could see, there was only one other woman. Of course. You should've guessed that Nat was flying with a bunch of testosterone monsters.

You hadn't expected much else, of course... but it still made you hyper-aware of the dress you'd picked out.

Nat whistled and let go of you when you got close enough to the squad (your skin was practically burning up and you were seriously considering turning around and making a run for it, but you'd never been too good at running and were much to scared to face-plant on the floor). The guys turned around like dogs, answering to her whistle and nothing more, and way too many pairs of eyes landed on you in the span of a single second.

"Alright?", Nat grinned, shoving you a little step in front of her. It wasn't like you were shy. You really weren't. Maybe you weren't exactly extroverted, but you certainly weren't shy. Usually. So you couldn't even be mad at her for forcing you to come out of your shell like this. "I'd like to introduce you idiots to my roommate."

One of the guys put his pool cue down and immediately your focus switched to him. You had to admit that for a moment there you forgot how to breathe. He was tall and he was blond and he had strikingly green eyes and broad shoulders and that button-up was really doing things for you. You'd expected Nat's friends to be talented and rich, sure, but not that goddamn handsome.

"You never told us your roommate's stunning", he drawled, all Texan accent dripping from his words like molten honey and sticking to your brain, and his grin almost sent you careening straight into his arms. You needed longer than you should've to really process his words, only realising that oh god, had he just called you stunning? when Nat was already rolling her eyes.

"Do not, Bagman", she hissed, "flirt with her or I will end you."

Bagman only chuckled at that and strode towards you, holding out his hand and luckily you had enough braincells left to grasp it. Normal, you told yourself. Totally normal greeting. You did your best to ignore the heat in your cheeks and the way his fingers felt.

"Hangman", he introduced himself, that award-winning grin still on his lips. "But you can call me Jake."

He winked, completely brushing over Nat's threat. She slapped the back of his head and he finally pulled his hand from yours as you stuttered out your name.

"What did I just say", Nat seethed, practically dragging him away from you. He just shrugged and chuckled to himself.

"Can't help myself around beautiful ladies, I'm afraid."

She slapped him another time for that and he brought his hand to his hair to rub over the spot that you were sure must already have been sore. Nat had a wicked right hook.

"Keep it in your pants, Bagman", she threatened again, then turned back to you. "Alright, now that the worst is over, I'll introduce you to the others."

She spun to stand next to you, eyes narrowing as she paused for a second. You could barely raise your eyebrows. All of this was so overwhelming. You'd expected everything from embarrassment to ridicule, but certainly not that anyone was about to flirt with you. And one gorgeous piece of human being as well.

But he probably did that with everyone.

He was navy, for gods sake! What were you thinking? Navy guys were toxic assholes that brought a new conquest home every night only to leave them unsatisfied and doing the walk of shame in the morning. You had enough troubles already, you really didn't need to add another man to the pile.

So you straightened and made yourself swear not to give Jake another second of acknowledgement.

Nat seemed to have finished her assessment of the group, whatever it had been, and she didn't look satisfied.

"Where's Bradshaw?", she asked.

"Probably doing what he does best", Jake sighed, snatching the pool cue up again and leaning over the table to take a shot. "Slow ridin'."

You had seriously no clue whatsoever how pool worked, but he straightened again with a self-satisfied expression and you guessed he must've done good, especially when his friend groaned. He caught your gaze and you snapped it away, cursing yourself for already fucking up on your promise. Nat huffed.

"He better have a convincing excuse", she muttered. "I thought I told everyone to make a good first impression."

Then she clapped her hands.

"Okay! Anyway. Next to Bagman, that's Coyote."

Coyote raised his beer at you and smiled. You gave him a little wave.

"Next to Coyote that's Fanboy and next to him that's Payback."

You waved at them too, laughing as Fanboy waved back with just a little too much vigor and as Payback threw you a sloppy salute. Nat turned to the other pool table.

"Over there that's Fritz, Yale, Harvard, Omaha and Halo."

She grinned, grabbed you by the shoulders and maneuvered you around, pointing at a man with big glasses on his nose, sitting in one of the few chairs that were facing the pool tables. He stopped popping nut mix into his mouth the second your eyes fell on him, his hand hovering uncertainly in mid-air.

"And that's", Nat said, almost prideful, "That's Bob."

"Ooh!", you keened, a little more confident that everybody seemed at least somewhat happy to see you and a little more excited now that you remembered a person from Nat's stories. "Backseater Bob?"

"That's me", Bob chuckled, red tinting his cheeks as he smiled, putting away the nut mix to wipe his hands off on his pants and reach one out to shake yours. You couldn't help but mirror his grin - his fingers were soft and he was gentle with you, a bit unlike Jake. "Nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you too", you nodded, already comfortable with him after all of two seconds. You understood now why Nat was so glad to have him as her backseater - he seemed like the complete opposite of the navy cliché that you despised so much.

Bob just smiled at you for a moment. His glasses made his eyes a little bigger than they probably were and honestly, you could see yourself getting along well with him. He seemed sweet and genuine and kind and you could feel your anxiety start to let go of you, start to slip away a bit.

"Oh", he let out and straightened. "D'you want something to drink?"

"She does", Nat interrupted before you could decline, as though she'd already known you would. She probably had, to be honest. She knew you well enough. "Would you get us two tequila shots and two mojitos?"

"Two tequila shots and two mojitos?", you laughed, turning around to her in surprise.

"I told you, you need to let loose", she grinned. "And we're letting loose tonight!"

"Oh yeah", you snorted, pushing her away by her shoulder as Bob got up and walked over to the bar. "Really letting loose apparently."

Nat only laughed and let herself flop down on one of the chairs, patting the seat next to her with Bob's nut mix on it. You grabbed it and sat down as well, brushing your hand down the front of your dress, smoothing it out.

You watched Nat's friends bustle about the pool tables. Watched Nat's squad as they talked and laughed. Watched Jake - just out of the corner of your eyes, really! - as he clapped Coyote on the back and you could've sworn that even though you really definitely weren't looking!!! his eyes were fixed on you. It had you fiddling with the straps of your dress.

"So?", Nat asked eventually, drawing your attention back to her. "They're not as bad as you thought, are they?"

Internally, you had to agree with her. Okay, maybe you'd been a little overdramatic. Maybe they weren't as bad. They didn't seem so. But also you'd known them for less than two minutes and you knew just how good people sometimes were at deceiving you.

"Give me a minute to get to know them and I'll tell you after", you smiled.

"That I can work with."

"Ladies", Jake's voice rang out, just before he stepped up right in front of you, leaving you practically no choice but to look up at him. He was grinning, the pool cue still in his hand. "You'll play a round, won't you?"

Nat shifted in her seat.

"Haven't got your ass kicked enough yet?", she asked.

"You know you couldn't kick my ass if you tried, Phee."

"We'll see about that."

She was up in a second, grabbing the cue from Jake and strolling over to the table as you watched her. You hadn't moved. You weren't about to.

That almost lazy kind of teasing they had going on reminded you of all those other people like Jake that she'd been friends with throughout her life. Not that you didn't make fun of each other - wasn't that practically the baseline of every friendship? But with them... You couldn't put your finger on it just now. It wasn't that they actually despised each other, you knew what Nat's hatred looked like and it wasn't this, and it certainly wasn't flirting either, you knew what Nat's type looked like and as handsome as you found Jake, he definitely wasn't it. Maybe it was just the combination of their personalities, maybe it was nothing at all. It was a bit like they still hadn't quite decided that they liked each other, even though they obviously did get on.

"What about you?", Jake asked and you blinked up at him in surprise. Sure, he'd addressed the both of you, but you'd kind of just assumed that he'd meant Nat.

"Uh, I don't play", you said carefully, still unsure if - and if, then why - he was talking to you. Hadn't Nat just agreed to play against him? Were two players not enough somehow? Was this like, a group game?

Jake raised his eyebrows.

"You don't play pool?", he asked, like he'd never met anybody who dared not play pool.

"No, I don't", you said, very slowly, as though that would somehow lessen the risk of miscommunication. "I don't know how to."

The corners of his lips tugged upwards at that, just slightly, like he wanted to hide his grin from you. Was he making fun of you? Honestly you couldn't even be mad at him if he was - you'd expected pretty much nothing else from the squad. But it did come as a bit of a surprise now that your impression of them all had so rapidly changed.

"Well we can't have that", Jake tutted, reaching out a hand again, hanging in mid-air as you looked at it sceptically. This whole situation was a little overwhelming. Or maybe it was just him that was a little overwhelming. "You're at a navy bar, Sunny. You have to know pool."

You glanced from his hand back up at his face and felt kind of daft with how much time your brain needed to process all this.

"Sunny?", you asked, because of all the questions that you had this was the easiest one to phrase. And maybe because it was the thing that had thrown you off track the most. Jake's grin only widened.

"Navy nature to give nicknames, darlin'", he chuckled while you realised that you'd still not taken his hand and that at this point it probably started being weird (and heavy) to hold his arm out like that. So despite your earlier promise, which, you had to admit, you'd already thrown out of the window a second after you'd made it, you acknowledged him very much. As carefully as you possibly could, you put your hand in his as he talked, and immediately he tightened his grip on you and helped you stand up. You were a little too close to him now, a little too close for good, and if Nat hadn't been occupied racking the pool balls she probably would have kicked Jake in the face. But he didn't seem to mind, only carried on talking, apparently not whatsoever surprised by the sudden close proximity or by how easily the pet names had slipped off his lips.

Sunny. Darlin'.

"And that's just a lovely dress", he went on, leaning in even closer, so close that for just a second you almost could have felt his breath on your ear. "I think yellow might be my new favourite colour."

He pulled back with a wink and then he was gone, just the weight of his hand resting in yours left as he led you to the pool table Nat was setting up. He let go of you the very moment she looked up, a smile on her lips, and your breath caught in your throat. Jake was playing a dangerous game and he was pulling you down with him.

He strolled around the table back to Coyote, who was still holding the other pool cue in his hands, and Nat took the few steps towards you, her smile dropping a bit.

"Bagman bother you?", she asked, genuinely a little worried.

"Nah", you said, a little shaky, and shook your head. "I'm fine."

It wasn't a real answer, but she let it slide, nodding as she watched Jake return with the second cue now.

"You just let me know if he does", she muttered and then there he was, too quick for you to respond.

Nat was usually protective. She always had been, and rightfully so. Always a little weary of guys you went on dates with, always a little weary of guys you brought home. You'd minded sometimes, like back in college when you'd had a crush on that guy from musical theatre and she had threatened so vividly to break his neck if he hurt you that he'd never talked to you again. But she had clearly been right about most of them and so you really should trust her, really, you should... and yet.

She was practically telling you to stay far away from Jake. She was doing it the other way around, for now, but you were sure she'd give you the whole speech tomorrow morning as well. And you'd just met this guy, it wasn't like you were head over heels in love with him, but he was charming and flirty and it was working on you.

He was just about to open his mouth and, you guessed, start explaining pool to you when Nat suddenly straightened.

"Bradshaw!", she called out, so loud that the whole bar must've heard her, and you turned to see what - who - she was looking at as if in reflex. The crowd nothing short of parted for him.

A ridiculous Hawaiian shirt on that caught your eye first, then those sunglasses - were that Ray Bans? Hadn't they got out of style like, a decade ago? - and then... Oh, and then.

"That's a pornstache", you said, quite dumbly, you had to admit, and Nat snorted. You turned to her and then back to him and even though you were still very much gaping, you were laughing now too. "Like, an actual 80s pornstache."

Pornstache had caught sight of his squad apparently and was making his way towards you and the closer he came, the less funny you felt about the whole situation.

Pornstache was attractive.

Maybe it was the hair. Maybe it was the swagger in his step, the fact that he was practically oozing confidence. Not that the others weren't, but he... well, you kinda couldn't look away from him as he approached. Maybe it was the moustache after all.

You hadn't ever met a man who could pull that off.

He shouldn't be allowed to either.

God, how was Nat working with all these gorgeous specimen? They should all be sued for looking like that. It was too much power in the hands of the navy.

Pornstache stopped short in front of you, a light grin on his lips, and someone - Jake perhaps? - let out a resigned breath.

"You're late", Nat said, crossing her arms like she always did when she didn't like something. His grin only widened.

"There needs to be someone fashionably late in every squadron", he chuckled, slipping off his sunglasses and hooking them into the collar of his shirt and if it had been up to you you'd have forced them back up on his nose because now you had to watch as he glanced from Nat to you and took you in. He was way too attractive to be eyeing you up like this.

Men like him didn't eye you up like this.

Especially not in yellow sundresses.

Not that the dress wasn't pretty. It was. And you weren't overdressed like you'd have been in the black one that you'd had hanging at your closet door too. But it was kind of weird to be standing in front of all these testosterone-y men in a cute little dress like that.

Though Jake seemed to have liked it.

God, first him and now Pornstache...

"Rooster", Pornstache said, reaching out a hand for you to shake. "Or Bradley. But you can call me whatever you want."

You could practically hear Nat rolling her eyes as you shook his hand, brushing back a strand of hair that had fallen into your face as heat rushed through your arm and straight to your cheeks.

"What is it with you guys tonight?", she sighed, uncrossing her arms and grabbing her pool cue instead. She turned back to the table that she'd finished setting up and nudged Jake away to take his place, apparently at her wits' end and done with the conversation. Pornstache - Bradley - wasn't.

No, he was still looking at you and you still couldn't look away.

"So you're Nat's new roommate, I assume?"

You couldn't help but admire the way his voice sounded. If it already had you melting like this within two minutes of meeting him, you didn't want to imagine how you'd react if you heard it in the morning. Or late at night. Or close to your ear. Or- Wow, you really needed to fucking stop.

"Yeah", you choked out and cleared your throat as embarrassment set in. You shouldn't be thinking about Nat's colleagues like this. You shouldn't be thinking about anyone like this. You needed a drink and to cool off. God, where was Bob with those tequila shots? "Yeah, Nat's new roommate."

Bradley nodded, that damned grin still on his lips.

"But you knew her before?"

"Yeah", you said again, a little steadier this time. "Yeah, I've known her my whole life."

You should stop saying 'yeah' that much. It was making you sound like that was the only word you knew. Yeah.

"Really?", he asked and raised his eyebrows, glancing at Nat who was now leaning over the pool table and taking her shot, totally concentrated. "She never told us, just said she was introducing us to a friend who's recently moved. If you've known her that long, she could've introduced us back at Top Gun."

"You went to Top Gun with her?", you asked, raising your eyebrows to look at Nat too. "She never told me."

"Seems like she didn't tell us much about each other", Bradley said and somehow, he seemed rather amused by it - his lip was quirking up and his moustache followed and you felt like that should rather be funny than attractive. Shame that it wasn't.

Before you could say anything more, Bob came back with a tray in his hands, balancing a bunch of glasses. He barely seemed to notice Bradley, too focused on not letting anything fall and shatter.

"Tequila or mojito first?", he asked. Nat straightened up and grabbed the two shot glasses from the tray.

"Tequila", she said, back to at least a half-grin. "Thanks, Bob."

She gave one to you and clinked them and the two of you downed your shots like you'd always done - one big sip in sync, heads thrown back and glasses practically touching your noses and laughs on your lips when you put them down again, with just a bit too much fervor on Bob's tray.

"Now the mojito", she chuckled, taking the cocktail glasses next and handing you one again.

"You ladies seem to be enjoying yourselves", Jake suddenly said, leaning against the pool table with that grin on his lips but somehow, it was tighter now and his voice was a little strained. Maybe it was the tequila just blurring up your senses for a moment. Maybe your perception was fucked.

"Have to", Nat grinned and winked at you. "After all you lot aren't any help."

Bradley and Jake started protesting like she had somehow insulted their honour, but she only laughed and turned back to the game, already taking a sip of the cocktail in her hand. You followed her example.

Bob carefully sat down the tray on one of the chairs and picked up the nut mix again. You couldn't help but smile. It was somehow endearing, the rest of them sipping beer and drinks and him just popping nut mix into his mouth like a grad student.

"So, Sunny", Jake said, suddenly so close again that you could smell his aftershave. "Your turn."

You glanced at the pool table and raised your eyebrows. You should probably say no, thanks, I can't play, goodbye and leave it be. Leave him be. Nat would probably prefer if you did. She'd probably prefer if you turned around and joined Bob and made friends with her backseater instead of let Bagman, like she so affectionately called him, teach you how to play pool. But he was an attractive man and you were only human and anyway, you imagined you'd have enough time left to talk to everybody else. So you looked up at him and his impossibly green eyes that you couldn't get over and took the cue out of his hands.

"Only if you teach me", you said, stopping short at the end to ponder if maybe, just maybe.... So you grinned and added "Bagman" and watched his face fall for a second as you pushed past him and tried to make sense of the pool table.

Alright, so there were nine balls in different colors and if you were right, you were supposed to push them into the pockets in the corners and at the sides. Right? But that couldn't be it. It couldn't be that easy.

Jake had apparently restarted his original train of thought and turned around to you, his chest almost - just almost - pressing into your shoulder.

"I was planning on teaching you, Sunny", he chuckled, straightened and turned a little more serious. "A'ight, it's actually quite easy once you got it. So we've got ten balls in total and your goal is to pocket the nine colored ones. But you're only allowed to strike the cueball, the white one. With me so far?"

"So far", you nodded. "So basically I have to like, hit all these other balls but just with the white one and not with the cue? And if I pocket the cueball then what happens?"

"That's a foul", he explained patiently. Honestly you hadn't expected he'd react so well to dumb questions. "If you pocket the cueball, your turn's over and the other player-"

He stopped short. You were just about to ask if he was alright when you heard it too.

Nothing.

Nothing at all.

The music was gone. Completely gone. Someone had turned off the jukebox.

"Every fucking time", Jake muttered, running his hand over his face as you looked at him and frowned. You were missing something major here and honestly couldn't think of what. But then Nat put down her cue and her drink and maneuvered around Jake to pry your drink from your hand as well.

"You're gonna wanna see this", she chuckled, one of those rare, all-consuming grins on her lips and you could hardly do anything but stumble after her as she made her way through the crowd. You didn't think anything could have prepared you for the next five minutes.

Because okay, Bradley was sitting at the piano. Okay, Bradley could also play said piano. And okay, Bradley could sing as well. And just maybe he really wasn't bad. Maybe he was really, really good.

Maybe Nat thought the same because you hadn't seen her that carefree in a while. Maybe everyone did - almost everyone, at least, because almost everyone was laughing and singing along and having the time of their lives. Maybe you did too.

No, you definitely did too.

Bradley had popped his sunglasses back up on his nose and was clearly enjoying being the center of attention for a minute. And you couldn't help but be completely enamoured by it. By him. You couldn't help but laugh along with Nat and let her twirl you around and sing, too loud and probably much too off-key, and fall from Bob's arms into Fanboys and you really couldn't help but somehow feel like a part of the group.

And then the song was over and you were panting, your cheeks hurt from grinning and you had to brace your palm on the lid of the piano to not fall over.

Fanboy's arm was still wrapped around your shoulder somehow and you didn't know if you were leaning on him or if he was leaning on you, but it didn't really matter. You were glad now that you had chosen that summer dress - it was light and breezy and you didn't have to worry about sweating through skin-tight fabric or anything like that. No, you just had to sweep your hair out of your face and throw your head back and laugh.

And look at Bradley, maybe, whose eyes were twinkling with amusement. He looked straight out of a fever dream. His sunglasses lay abandoned on the piano lid - he had really pretty eyes. How had you not noticed before?

"Is this like a regular show you pull off?", you asked, a little breathless as Fanboy untangled himself from you, the conversation the rest of the squad was starting up now fading into background noise. You were running high on adrenaline, the tequila was finally hitting your system, the anxiety was fully disappearing and because spirits were so high, your confidence came crashing back into you like a huge wave of relief that had you collapsing on the piano bench right next to Bradley. "'Cuz it seemed like everyone was quite used to that."

He chuckled, turning his head so he could look at you. He was tall, you realised, really really tall, at least taller than you by a head and you didn't know if it was this apparent because you were suddenly sitting or just because you were suddenly so close to him. Not that you wanted to complain either way.

"Let's say it's not the first time", he smiled. You raised your eyebrows.

"i'll ignore that you're deflecting for now", you laughed, not quite caring that he was deflecting at all. (You were pretty sure you knew the answer anyway.) "And instead I'll say I'm impressed. I've always admired people that can play."

"Do you play?", he asked, genuinely interested, drawing his hands back from the piano as the jukebox started up again. You had to say you'd liked the live music a little better. A little a lot. After all, Bradley Bradshaw was a sight to behold.

"No", you said. "Not anymore. I played... Well, I kinda had lessons back when I was little, but my family- Yeah, no, I don't play."

You swallowed and he raised his eyebrows, but luckily didn't comment on your stuttering. You really didn't need to traumadump on people you'd met half an hour ago. If it had even been half an hour. (It probably hadn't.)

"I could teach you", he offered and maybe you were wrong, maybe you were stupid, maybe you were tispier than you'd thought but you could've sworn that just for a moment, he glanced down at your lips - but you probably were wrong and stupid and tispier than you'd thought.

"Slow Ride."

You looked up to see Jake leaning against the piano, a beer bottle in his hand and a forced grin on his lips, entirely focused on Bradley next to you.

"Bagman."

You glanced back and forth between them as they stared at each other in silence.

Maybe you shouldn't be here. This felt like you really should not be here. Were you missing something? You'd thought that the squad was like one big family. These two seemed more like they were about to rip each others throats out and you didn't know if you wanted to be in between them when it inevitably happened.

"So you're back in showbiz, I see", Jake chuckled, putting his beer down on the piano lid.

"Some people can actually make it there, whether you believe it or not", Bradley shot back, his eyebrows raised and his lips still twisted into that grin that you were pretty certain was an act in itself.

Jake let out a dry laugh.

"Maybe you should change career paths", he suggested. "Actually do make it somewhere."

"Maybe I should leave", you muttered, already halfway off the bench and on your way to down the mojito Nat had left on the pool table, just to get out of whatever this was. Even though whatever it was came closer than anything else had so far to what you'd expected, it threw you off track more than the rest had. You needed a minute. And you needed a drink.

"Don't worry", Bradley said, turning back to you after throwing a last glance at Jake. "Bagman's gonna go now."

"And leave the poor woman with you?", Jake chuckled, straightening up with a grin. His beer bottle clinged against the wood. "I don't think so."

Having the both of them stare at you had your skin crawling.

That confidence that you'd had earlier? Gone. The anxiety you'd thought you were done with? Back. Fun! Where was Nat to get you out of this? Where was Nat when you needed her? You should've listened to her and kept away. You should've sat down next to Bob and had a pleasant conversation, but no. No, you had to find the two troublemakers of the team and get right in between their little quarrel.

"I was about to teach the poor woman how to play piano", Bradley said, eyes still fixed on you.

"Really?", Jake asked. "Because I was about to teach her how to play pool."

He raised his eyebrows and Bradley did too and they were looking at you all silent like they expected you to say something now and oh god, what had you got yourself into?

Two of the most gorgeous men you'd ever seen - to your great dismay - who were friends, no, colleagues of Nat's, who flew multi-million-dollar aircrafts and spent their days saving the world, looking at you and flirting with you and... flirting with you.

Nat had been right, no matter how this would work out.

You'd really needed to get out of your bedroom.

...

So you've tripped and fallen right into a love triangle, it seems. What are you gonna do?

a/n: this somehow didn't really turn out the way i wanted but i dont mind? like, im quite happy with how it did turn out tbh!!!! and im so excited to finally publish this chapter ahhhhhhhh lets see what happens!

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writethrough · 2 years ago

Note

Hi, could you do either Billy Hargrove or Eddie Munson reacting to seeing their s/o who usually doesn’t like children, interact with a baby/toddler who they actually like? Maybe the s/o was hesitant at first but then the baby just became really attached to them? Ty <3

Little Chickadees

(Eddie Munson x Gender-Neutral Reader)

Warnings: None (I think)

Word Count: 889

A/N: Full disclosure, I really wanted to write both Eddie and Billy, but Billy's version has taken on two very different paths, so I need a bit more time with his. One is a little more wholesome and fluffy while the other is on the serious side. I'll link the fluffy one with this post, but not sure about the other since it won't have the same tone.

Thank you for the request! And I hope you enjoy it!

“Eddie, you literally hang out with children all the time!” you said, exasperated.

He gripped his chest as if in pain. “Ouch!”

You groaned. “You know what I mean. It’s just…Kids don’t like me, and I don’t like them. It’s a mutual dislike.”

You were rambling at this point, and both of you knew it.

All you wanted was to spend the day with your boyfriend, but because he was such a sweetheart, he had volunteered both of you for the petting zoo at the Fourth of July carnival. And where there were fuzzy, adorable creatures, there were screaming, crying kids.

“C’mon, it won’t be that bad!” He flopped beside you on his bed. “You technically don’t even have to watch them. That’s what their parents are for. You just have to make sure no one loses a finger to a goat.”

“That’s not helping,” you said.

“Or lets an alpaca loose.”

“Eddie!” You threw a pillow at him.

“Alright!” he laughed, “Alright, I’ll stop.”

You played with the chain hanging from his jeans.

“You’ll be fine, sweetheart,” he said, rubbing your knee. “But we should probably head over. I know how much you hate being late.”

You let out a deep sigh. “Yeah, I guess.”

He offered you his hand, intertwining your fingers to lead you to his van.

You wished it had taken longer to get there. You would have rather listened to Eddie ramble about the most recent campaign than deal with the children of Hawkins.

At least the animals would distract you.

The baby goats were adorable, but you couldn’t help wincing when they bumped their heads together.

Baby ducks and chicks were waddling around in their pens, and the alpacas were corralled in fencing where visitors could see them.

“Think anyone'd mind if I took one of these guys home?” Eddie asked, holding one of the baby ducks.

You gave him a soft smile, resting your chin on his shoulder. “As much as I would love to see you play mother hen—or mother duck—I think stealing isn’t exactly the right answer.”

He puckered his lips in thought. “Yeah, you’re probably right.” He set it back in its pen. “And with my luck, it’d probably like Uncle Wayne more than me.”

You hummed and kissed his cheek. “Guess you’ll just have to settle for me.”

You went to pull away, but he quickly caught you around your waist to kiss you properly.

“There’s no settling when you’re the most amazing person I know,” he said into your hair.

Your heart beat a little faster the longer he stared. He always looked at you like you were the only person in the room. And you counted yourself grateful you found someone as kind and loving as him.

“Love you,” you whispered, touching your forehead to his.

“Love you, too.”

Excited shouts and giggles drifted as the kids bounded to the petting zoo.

“Show time,” Eddie said, reluctantly pulling away.

You sighed for what felt like the tenth time. “Yeah, yeah.”

When you got to the main area, Eddie showed some little boys the goats. And when one of them headbutted Eddie’s leg, the boys all laughed like it was the funniest thing in the world.

And you briefly caught Eddie biting his lip to keep the groan back. He’d definitely have a bruise tomorrow.

Someone tugged on your shirt to get your attention. Holly Wheeler stood there with her head tilted back.

“Hey, Holly. Where’s your mom?” you asked.

She pointed to her right, where her parents were having what looked like a disagreement.

“Okay,” you nodded, “why don’t we look at the baby chickens? How does that sound?”

She nodded excitedly.

“Alright, Holls.” You gently picked up one of the chicks. “Sit next to me, and you can pet him.”

You both sat on a hay bale, and Holly was transfixed by the creature.

“Just use one finger and be super careful,” you said.

She slowly ran her finger down the chick's back, barely any pressure applied.

“Soft,” she mumbled, a content smile on her face.

“You like him?”

She nodded again, starting her path from the beginning. The chick lowered its head, eyes closing as the repetitive motion put him to sleep.

You grinned. “Looks like he feels safe with you, Holly.”

She giggled but stopped petting him, not wanting to wake him up.

“Let’s put him back with his friends. Wanna see the ducks next?”

She was standing by their pen in an instant.

Her interaction with the ducks went much the same. And soon enough, Mrs. Wheeler called Holly back and gave you a wave of thanks.

You had just put the duck back when Eddie sidled up beside you.

“Kids don’t like you, huh?” he teased, wrapping an arm around your waist.

You rolled your eyes. “It was a fluke.”

“Yes, of course.” He nodded as if it made perfect sense. “S’why you were so good with her, right?”

You pinched his side lightly. “Holly’s a sweet kid. Not like your little demons.” You nodded toward the group of boys now at the alpacas.

He shook his head slightly. “That goat had it out for me.”

You laughed, leaning into his side.

He kissed the side of your head. “Knew you’d be fine.”

You faced him. “Whatever you say, Dungeon Master.”

Taglist: @phenomenal-bird, @steph-speaks, @bookshelf-dust

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lightdusty · 2 years ago

Note

Hard doming Katsuki.... trying to fucking that attitude out of him

Attitude

Dom! Male reader x katsuki

sadist shit katsuki likes it though enjoy loves 💗

Totally didn't write half of this in the hospital 🤞

Bakugou seemed to be in a foul mood today he yelled and screamed at everyone. His tone was more snappy than usual and he of course had his normal attitude but it was worse today. Especially when you went to talk to him and all he did was glare at you, that was not how he normally acted and you didn't like it.

"I don't like this attitude of yours." You said eyes narrowing as katsuki laid on his bed not even looking up to look at you as you leaned against his wall. "And? Is that supposed to be my problem?" He replied back, his focus now on his phone as he swiped through something. You walked up to him and grabbed his phone throwing it across the room. "He-" he didn't even finish as you laid your palm on his chest shoving him back. Getting on top of him you grabbed his hips roughly fingers practically digging into his side.

Katsuki looked highly confused most of the anger that had been stuck on his face melted as he raised his eyebrow at you in confusion titling his head to the side. Grabbing his chin you leaned down and kissed him, he seemed hesitant before kissing you back parting his lips to allow your tongue into his mouth as he lifted his head higher to get closer deepening the kiss. You pulled away quickly flipping him over and already stripping him down along with yourself his body jerked in shock as you quickly undressed him but he didn't do anything he let you remove his clothes with ease.

He expected your fingers to prepare him first. What he did not expect was for lubed to be poured onto his hole before you shoved your cock in him fully. His back arched and his fingers dug into the sheets. It felt painful he didn't think it could hurt this bad but he felt so aroused at the same time. You started thrusting in and out of him hard and fast, katsuki swore under his breath eyeliner that he had worn now running down his face. Katsuki's eyes rolled to the back of his head as his climax was quickly reached. But you didn't stop and all katsuki could do was moan and scream your name out in pleasure of overstimulation. "I take it you won't act like this again?" You said as you continued your voice heavy and bakugou nodded into his pillow where his mouth was biting back moans. "Answer me!" You snapped dangerously your pace picking up and katsuki moaned loudly as he answered breathing heavily. "Y-yes I won't god.. I promi-" he didn't finish his sentence as another moan came out of his mouth when you eventually reached your climax you finally pulled out katsukis worn out and overused body sagging into the sheets as he curled against your side.

He was definitely gonna have to have an attitude with you more often.

#bakugou x dom! male reader #bakugou smut #bakugou x male reader #katsuki smut #katsuki x male reader

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a-small-batch-of-dragons · 1 year ago

Text

Code Words | Set-up

Read on Ao3 Masterlist

Warnings: none

Pairings: none

Word Count: 5109

Someone knocks on Roman's door.

Someone knocks on Janus's door.

Someone knocks on Roman's door.

He frowns, getting up slowly and edging over. Logan didn't text and say he was going to stop by, he can't imagine Janus coming over without giving him a heads-up, and no one else would likely be willing to come near him right now. It's not like he's been giving his so-called 'friends' opportunities to see him, not since he—well. Not since.

So, it's with a healthy amount of trepidation that he approaches the door, something that's only rewarded when he peers through the peephole to see who, in fact, just knocked on his door.

His eyes widen.

Slowly, with every intention of making up something as soon as he finishes, he turns the doorknob and hesitantly cracks it just wide enough to peer out at the most high-ranking agent he's ever seen in real life.

"Roman," Director fucking Virgil says, smiling at him, "would you take a walk with me?"

"Um—sure. Yeah, uh—can I have a second?"

"Take your time."

"Thanks."

In a daze, Roman shuts the door. Nope, that definitely did just happen. He was just asked to go somewhere with the fucking Director. Okay. This is fine. He can deal with this. This definitely isn't going to end badly in any way, shape, or form. He's going to go for this walk and it's going to be fine and then he's going to come back here and scream into a pillow. Yeah.

That's it.

Belatedly, he realizes he's keeping the Director waiting and scrambles to shove his phone, his ID card, and his wallet into his pockets before stuffing his feet into his boots and opening the door again.

"Sorry."

The Director waves him off, still smiling. He gestures down the hall and Roman nods, shutting his door with a click behind him as he follows. The Director slows down so Roman can walk next to him and this really isn't helping his whole 'not going outside to avoid literally everyone staring' thing, but when the Director asks you to go on a walk, you take the fucking walk.

They don't go to another one of the conference rooms or even up the elevator to one of the fancy-schmancy offices that Roman's afraid to look at wrong. Instead, they arrive at one of the atriums and walk down the main stairs to the front door. He scurries over to hold the door as they walk outside, wincing a moment later at the glare of the sunlight. The weather has just started to turn warm again, the breeze still blowing like it wants to rip his jacket off but the sun at least is a little warmer.

The Director leads them over to a small bench in the corner of one of the less-traveled courtyards, sitting down and stretching out as though they're friends who sit on benches and talk to each other. When Roman hovers nervously for a few more seconds, he looks up and huffs, patting the bench. Roman sits down hastily.

"You're not in trouble," the Director says quietly, "I'm not here to scold you or reprimand you. You can relax, kid."

Yeah, uh-huh. Let me just go ahead and do that.

Judging by his chuckle, he may as well have said that out loud for the Director to hear. "Seriously. I don't bite, I swear."

"Only on Wednesdays, right?"

Before he can bite his tongue for being mouthy at the Director, said Director is laughing again. A proper laugh. He lightly taps Roman's shoulder in the adult get-a-load-of-this-kid-but-positive way, at least that's what Roman's going to interpret it as. "No, kid. Patton's made sure I'm thoroughly de-fanged."

Patton. Patton went to the Director. Patton went to the fucking Director, is the Director here about me?

Yeah, no shit, dumbass, why do you think you're out here?

"Sorry," he mumbles a moment later, "I didn't mean to…space out."

"Space as much as you want." He stretches out a bit further, tipping his head back. "I dragged you out here because apparently, the big ass windows in my office don't give me enough sunlight."

Roman sneaks a glance over his shoulder. Sure enough, the Director looks like—well, he looks like every other recruit after too long of sitting in the training rooms rediscovering the wonders of being outside. A laugh bubbles up in his throat before he can stop it. The Director cracks an eye open and smiles back at him. After another moment, he sits up with a grunt and mirrors Roman's position: elbows on knees, hands folded.

"What would you like to see happen?"

Roman blinks. "Huh?"

"With everything going on," the Director asks, still in that same really casual tone, "what would you like to see happen? What's your ideal outcome for this?"

Wow, no fucking pressure or anything. Real light question to start us off with, why don't you?

"I, um—"

"It doesn't have to be extensive," the Director says when he splutters, "or it can be as ridiculous as you want. You could say you want to shoot them into space or have the cafeteria exclusively serve Arby's curly fries."

"Does anyone even go to Arby's anymore?"

"We can't fix bad taste."

Roman snorts. He fiddles with the callus on his thumb. "Can I—sorry, can I think about it for a second?"

"Take your time." The Director leans back on the bench. "I'll be here enjoying the sun."

He worries his bottom lip between his teeth. What does he want to happen? Well, really, he wants all of this never to have happened in the first place. But he doesn't exactly have a time machine, and unless the Agency is really lying about what the fuck they can do, he doesn't think the Director has access to one either.

He wants the person who did this to him, to Janus, to never have the power to do so again. But he doesn't want them killed—or does he?

They'd definitely never hurt anyone ever again. They'd be out of the Agency. Out of his life. Out of Janus's life too. And they almost killed both of them with their negligence—something like that is punishable by normal standards, not just Agency standards. Let them know what it's like to be powerless, what it's like to be so, so fucking afraid for their existence, let them know what it's like to—to—

"Hey."

There's a hand on his arm and he realizes he's shaking. He clenches his jaw and forces himself to stop, glancing over to see the Director looking at him with concern. "Sorry."

The Director shakes his head, sitting up and still looking at him like that. "You wanna talk about it?"

Do I want to admit I was just fantasizing about killing someone? No, not really. "Um…I was—well, I thought that I really want all of this not to have happened in the first place, but we don't really have a time machine, so…"

He narrows his eyes.

"Do we have a time machine?"

"Believe me, it would make things simpler and infinitely more complicated, so no, we don't."

"Then I was thinking that—" No. No, he can't say this to the fucking Director, can he?

"You can say it, Roman," the Director reassures, "nothing leaves us right now. I'm not gonna hold anything you say here against you."

"I was thinking if they were dead," he whispers.

Immediately, he expects the Director to pull away. To say something like well, that's one way of looking at it, or we don't kill our own, which has he been fucking paying attention, does he know how much danger Roman's been in?

"And what if they were?"

His head jerks up. The Director still looks at him the same way he did before. The hand hasn't left his arm.

"What if they were dead," he asks again, "what then?"

"They—they wouldn't be able to hurt anyone ever again. They'd be gone. I wouldn't have to worry about them coming back, or hurting someone again, or—or—they would just be gone."

The Director nods. He still isn't pulling away. Even though Roman's admitting he wants to kill someone just for hurting him.

"But—"

"But?" comes the gentle prompt a moment later.

Roman takes a deep breath. "But I don't want—that's not—I don't—I don't want to live in a place governed by my worst impulses, you know?"

"That's a very brave thing to say."

He can't help it, he scoffs. "I'm not brave."

"No? Why not?"

"I'm scared all the time," he hisses, glancing around, "I'm—I can't leave my room. I can't talk to anyone without making sure they're exactly who they say they are. I can't sleep. I can't—I can't do anything. I can't even say I want something bad to happen to the person who hurt me. How the fuck am I brave?"

The Director hums, the hand on his shoulder making small circles. Before the shame at his outburst can really sink in, the Director sighs.

"Roman, you're brave because you're scared and you're doing all of this anyway."

"Courage isn't the absence of fear but doing things despite it," he drones automatically, only for the hand on his shoulder to squeeze.

"I'm serious. Do you know how many agents we lose every year to PTSD and other factors? Every month? Every week?" He looks up to see the Director staring at him. "It's not an insignificant amount, Roman. This job is hard. It fucks us all up. You're not a coward for being afraid and you definitely aren't one for what's happened to you."

"O-oh."

"You sitting here telling me you don't know what to do is brave. You being out here with me is brave. You sitting in that meeting telling them what happened to you is brave," the Director says, looking at him with a stunning amount of determination. "And telling me you don't want to live somewhere governed by your worst impulses is brave too."

A lump forms in Roman's throat. That's rude. He's not trying to cry in front of the Director.

"Believe me," he continues, his voice lowering the slightest bit, "I don't blame you for wanting whoever did this to you dead. I really don't. I also don't blame you for not wanting them dead. This isn't a test, Roman. I'm not fishing for the right answer. I'm asking you, because it seems like no one's done that for you in a long time. Do you understand?"

"Yeah. Yes, yes, I—I get it."

"Alright."

"Can I—sorry, I just—"

"Take your time," the Director says again, still full of some bottomless patience, rubbing Roman's shoulder as he stifles a few sobs. "You're alright, kid. You're gonna be alright."

"I know." He sniffles one last time and sits up a bit straighter. "I don't want them to die. I just want to make sure they can't hurt anyone like this ever again."

"That sounds like a very reasonable thing to want."

"And there needs—there needs to be a check of some sort. Someone else needs to make sure anyone sent out into the field knows everything. Code phrases, safety points, if there are any other agents there to support them. It doesn't have to be everything, but it has to be something."

The Director nods. God, Roman is telling the Director how to run a fucking mission and the Director is listening.

"A-and we can't—" he swallows heavily— "we can't let Security have tazers anymore."

He raises an eyebrow. "No? Why no tazers?"

"Because they really hurt and they don't actually do enough to stop someone if they really want something."

It surprises a laugh out of him at any rate. He nods a few times, mulling the words over. "Alright. No tazers, then."

"Why are you here?" Roman pulls back a little bit. "Is this really big enough for you to be here?"

"Officially, yes. One of the most in-depth undercover operations was almost ruined because someone wasn't briefed properly, resulting in the traumatization and risk of two of my agents, and it happened on my watch. Unofficially—" and here he leans a bit closer again— "a good friend of mine burst into my office and told me to get my ass in gear."

"Good friend—wait, Patton?"

"That's the one."

"Patton," Roman repeats, "the guy who had a baby blue notebook and those big glasses, the guy who took notes with a pink and white striped pen, that guy."

"Yeah. That guy."

"I don't—I don't wanna think about that too much."

"I don't blame you," he chuckles, "he's—well. He's something."

"Uh-huh. Logan knows him too—wait, does that mean he's yelled at Logan to get his ass in gear?"

"Probably."

"That's…oddly comforting."

The Director pats his shoulder again. "I can't promise you anything. But this will be dealt with, that I can assure you. We'll do our best to make sure nothing like this ever happens again."

"I need to talk to Janus," he blurts out.

"Janus?"

"Yeah. We—I promised. He needs to know too. It happened to him too."

"And if he thinks something different should happen?"

Roman shrugs. "Then we talk about it."

The Director stands up, adjusting his coat. He smiles at Roman again and—the Director just ruffled his hair. This is fine. This is totally fine. "You've got a good head on your shoulders."

"Thanks."

"Oh, and one more thing," he says as he turns to go, looking back over his shoulder, "and you can tell Janus this too: if anyone gives you a hard time about what happened, you send them straight to my office, you hear?"

"Yes, sir."

"Enjoy the sunshine, kid."

Roman tips his head back and lets the warmth brush across his face.

***

Janus opens the door and blinks. "Director Virgil. Can I help you?"

"I've been reliably informed that there's no one else who can help me put this away," Director Virgil says, holding up a small bottle of Janus's favorite liquor—so Patton did raid his locker, good to know— "interested?"

"I've been instructed not to mix alcohol and painkillers."

"I won't tell if you won't."

Janus allows himself a small smile and lets him in, gesturing to the small round table and quickly fixing them both two glasses of water and grabbing two empty glasses. He sets them on the table as Director Virgil takes off his jacket. Two fingers in each glass and one's slid over to him as he sits down.

"What should we drink to, Director?"

"Oh, I don't know." The Director swirls the drink around the glass. "How about…the fact that we're both still alive?"

Janus holds up his glass, they toast, and takes a small sip. The burn is familiar and he just manages to stifle a wince.

"Rough night?"

He allows himself a self-deprecating chuckle. "Remus still hits hard if I'm not paying attention. He apologized with another bottle of that stuff."

"So it's not from the mission."

Out of sight, his hand twitches. "No, Director. I didn't sustain any major injuries and I've been cleared by Psych."

"That's what Patton said too."

Ah. "Is that all Patton said?"

Director Virgil hisses lightly as he sets down the glass. "He said there was an urgent matter that required my attention, and that I should get my ass in gear about it."

"Verbatim?"

"In spirit."

Janus sets his glass down and sits up a little more. "Are you expecting a recounting from me as well?"

"No. I'm here to ask you what you'd like to see happen as this investigation moves forward."

"You should be asking Roman."

"Why? Weren't you affected by this just as much, if not more, than he was? You were entrenched deeply into the gang's structure well before he was even brought on, surely I don't have to tell you what they do with traitors."

Under the table, he makes a fist. "I'm not the one who was tortured by someone who was supposed to be on his side. I'm not the one who has trouble sleeping because he can't trust the walls around him. I'm not the one whose first big mission was set up to fail from the start."

"From the start…" He tilts his head. "You think it was done on purpose?"

"Roman's mission was as my safety. I've run safeties before. I was briefed so thoroughly I could probably tell you what those code phrases were. And he didn't know a single one—he didn't even know he was a safety. That means either the person who briefed him didn't tell him, or whoever briefed them omitted it. Regardless, someone knew that he was supposed to be a safety and that information never got to him."

Director Virgil drums his fingers on the table. "Could it have been a mistake? They assumed he knew?"

"First mission. First safety. Gross incompetence is the worser of the two offenses, somehow."

"Mm." He takes another sip of the drink. "You've still not explained why you shouldn't have a say in all of this."

Janus doesn't say anything. He takes another drink.

"Could it be the same reason you're hissing through painkillers right now?"

Janus's head whips around, mouth already opening to spit a retort of some kind back, but the Director holds up his hand to forestall it.

"I've already made enough mistakes by letting this get as far as it has," he says, softly but with an undertone of steel, "I'm not gonna let another agent get hurt on my watch."

His jaw works. He looks away. He looks down at his hand, trembling slightly under the table. He reaches for the glass of water and takes a long drink. "It's my fault. It happened on my watch."

"As I'm sure Remus has told you, you didn't exactly have many options."

"I know how nerve-wracking safety missions are."

"And you know how precarious undercover missions are."

"He's a good kid," Janus whispers, his voice thick, "he's such a good kid."

"Yes, he is. He's a good kid who made sure I knew he wanted to come talk to you before I did anything else."

Janus looks over. Director Virgil offers him a rueful smile and shrugs, taking another drink from the liquor glass. "He did what?"

"That surprises you?"

"No, not really, I just…"

"You said you'd give him time to be alright with you, is that right?" Janus nods. "I think the thing is, Janus, he's perfectly alright with you, the agent who also got fucked over in all this bullshit."

"But I'm also the one that hurt him."

"You think he's smart enough to know the difference between the person who fucked up his briefing and you, the agent trying to do his job?" Director Virgil spreads his hands. "He told Patton he didn't think you should be punished, didn't he?"

"Yeah, well, he's a good kid."

He chuckles. "You sound like you resent him for that."

"Good kids don't last here, you know that. They get fucked up or killed or—" he slugs back the rest of the liquor— "or they turn into us."

"Mm, fates worse than death indeed." He sits forward, folding his hands on the table. "I thought about that. But really, you know what's happened to Roman right now?"

"I was there for most of it, yeah, I know."

"That's just about the worst thing I can think of happening to a new agent, especially on their first safety mission, and yet after that, he's still doing things like vouching for you and trying to be a kind person."

"So?"

"So, I think he's made of stronger stuff than anyone's given him credit for."

Janus toys with the empty glass. "He always has been."

"So maybe he's gonna be alright for right now," Director Virgil continues, his voice softening the slightest bit, "and maybe he's got someone else to look after him for a moment."

"Yeah."

"And maybe you can swallow your pride and acknowledge that this fucked you up too."

Janus snorts. He sets the empty glass on the table and Director Virgil pours him another two fingers. "You really want to know what I want to happen next?"

"Mhm."

"Strip whoever it was of their Agency protection and let them go. Turn them over to the State if you have to. Get them out of here, get them away from the Agency. Lock them in a cell, throw the key in a hole, and throw away the hole."

He doesn't look phased. "But don't kill them?"

"Why, is that what you expected me to say?"

"No, but Roman brought it up." When Janus's glass hits the table with a thunk, Director Virgil chuckles. "Not a fan of that?"

"I mean, I can't say I blame him, but…"

"But?"

Janus lets out a long breath. "I don't think he's ever had to kill anyone before. I don't…I know I can't protect him, but I don't—that's not—"

He takes another deep breath and lets it out slowly. Maybe he should've taken it easier with that first glass.

"I don't think he should have to deal with taking a life on top of everything else right now."

Director Virgil hums again. "He said he didn't want to live somewhere governed by his worst impulses."

"Shit, why is this kid here? He could be—fuck, he could be anywhere else, doing anything else and doing a great job of it."

"And yet he is here. Scared and worried, yeah, but he's here."

"He's better than most of them," Janus mutters into the glass of water, "he didn't deserve any of this."

"No, he didn't and neither did you." The Director leans across the table, taking the liquor glass away and replacing it with a file. Janus glances up at him before opening it, reading through the pages of Patton's transcribed notes. "Those just got finished, Roman hasn't seen them yet. My guess is he'll be by later, though, so you can show them to him then."

"You should send a copy his way so he knows beforehand."

"I should trust our messaging system to send something like this?"

Janus winces. "Okay, fair point."

"Logan's probably with him by now, he'll pass it along. Patton reached out to him and Remus to keep an eye on the both of you while this whole mess gets sorted out. You'll probably hear from him in the next few days or so, in case he needs anything else for the dossier."

"Dossier?"

Director Virgil gives him a look. "You didn't think something was being put together after all this happened?"

"Does Roman know about it?"

"I didn't tell him, if that's what you're asking, but he knows a case of evidence is being assembled. He also knows nothing's going to happen until the both of you agree on what it should be, which is why he's going to be here later today."

Janus flips the file shut and pushes it across the table, still nursing the glass of water. "You must have an opinion about all of this."

"I do."

"What is it?"

"Someone has sabotaged one of the riskiest undercover missions we've attempted in a long time, deliberately or otherwise. Two agents have been severely affected by it and the ramifications are Agency-wide," Director Virgil says drily, "what do you think my opinion is?"

"Do you want them dead?"

He smile darkens. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves."

He stands to leave, the bottle of liquor still on the table.

"When you and Roman have come to a consensus, come to my office. Sarah will know to expect you, she'll let you in."

"Yes, sir."

"And Janus?"

"Yeah?"

"If you think of any holes deep enough for your liking, send their locations my way too."

***

Roman knocks on Janus's door. A moment later, it opens and he stands a little taller. "Hi."

"Hey, sweetie. Would you like to come in?"

"If you don't mind?"

"Not at all." Janus opens the door a little wider and Roman slips inside, glancing around at the much-larger quarters that actually has a small kitchen, a separate bedroom and bathroom—damn. "Make yourself comfortable."

"Your rooms are really nice."

Janus huffs a laugh. "Well, they are when Remus isn't destroying them."

"Have you guys been friends for a long time?"

"Friends, not necessarily, but he's been a pain in my ass since our first year of training." Janus sits down at the small dining table with a grunt. "Friendship came after we realized we'd become the world's greatest enemies if we didn't learn how to get along."

Roman snorts. "Yeah, I get that."

He glances over to see Janus sliding a file across the table to him, holding one hand to his ribs. "Patton's notes, freshly transcribed. They weren't ready this morning, so—"

"So the Director came to see you too?"

"Yeah, he did."

"Did he also ask you what you want to happen next?" Janus nods and Roman sighs, sitting down and pulling the file towards him. "Did he also hit you really hard or something?"

"This? No, that was Remus and I discovering I can't quite spar with the recklessness I used to."

"Logan tells me that too."

"Aren't you a little young to be getting the you're-not-as-young-as-you-used-to-be speeches?"

"I'm too old for the 'you're not invulnerable' speeches, apparently." Roman flips a page. "Though I think I figured that out for myself, thank you very much."

He reads in silence for a moment, just taking in Patton's notes. They're—well, they're not great, but they're true, so that's gotta count for something. He's seen more in this one eval than he has in literally all his time spent training, though, so that's fun too.

"What did you say?"

"Hm?"

"When the Director asked you, what did you say?"

"I said they should be stripped of their Agency rights and turned loose or locked away."

"That's kinda what I said too."

"What did you say," he says, "if you don't mind me asking?"

"Basically I was like 'I want to make sure this never happens again.' I asked for, like, a check or something by someone else who isn't the main briefing agent. To confirm that the agent being sent out knows the important stuff, knows the code words, or something. A safety for the safety."

Janus nods. "That's—I didn't think of that."

Of course you fucking didn't, but he bites his tongue. "And I said I want that person to go away."

"On that," Janus grunts, sitting up a little straighter, "we can agree in earnest."

"And no tazers."

It startles a laugh out of him, one he immediately tries to apologize for and cover-up. "Sorry, sorry. That's…um, can I ask why?"

"Because they hurt, for one, and two, they don't really stop someone." At Janus's obvious disbelief, he shrugs. "I stopped mainly because I was confused. If I wanted to, I could've pushed through it."

"Those aren't light weapons, Roman, they're designed to do some damage."

"Yeah, well, I've gotten pretty good at working with damage."

Janus winces and Roman feels a pang of regret. "I am sorry, sweetie."

"I know. I'm—I don't mean to keep throwing it back in your face."

"Throw all you want," he says, waving a hand, "it's your right to."

"But that's not fair to you, you're supposed to be healing from this as well. And how can you start doing that if I'm still making a point of how fucked up I am?" Roman glares at the table like it'll have all the answers. "I don't—if me being upset is making you have a harder time dealing with it, then—"

"Sweetie, stop." Janus leans across the table, one hand outstretched. "You need to worry about yourself and yourself alone. I—as much as I hate to say it, I do know how to deal with myself when I'm like this. You don't have to deal with my problems and yours."

"Your problems are my problems. Partners, remember?"

He stares Janus down until the other agent cracks a small smile. "Partners, right."

There's quiet for a moment. Roman toys with the piece of paper on the table. Patton's notes about residual trust issues and PTSD start to blur as he stares at the words long enough for them to resemble meaningless squiggles rather than letters.

"Do you think it was deliberate?"

Janus looks over from where he was looking out of the window. "Do I what?"

"Them fucking up my briefing. Fucking up your safety. Do you think it was deliberate?"

He leans back with a sigh, rubbing his fingers together. "I think it would explain a lot, yeah. I mean—I'm not thrilled at the idea of deliberate sabotage, but honestly, I think it's better than the alternative."

Roman frowns. "How is that better than the alternative?"

"If it was deliberate sabotage, that means someone knew that you were supposed to be my safety, they knew this was going to be a joint mission, and they knew you were supposed to be given code phrases. That means they made a choice, a specific choice, not to tell you."

Roman nods, unsure of where exactly Janus is going with this.

"If this isn't deliberate, that means either someone forgot to tell the person who was briefing you, or someone forgot to tell them, and so on and so on until we get all the way back to the people who assigned my mission and planned it in the first place. That's a lot more people to worry about and a lot more information that fell out of the pipeline somewhere between my handlers and yours. Which would you rather deal with: one bad actor who chose to risk both of us, or a handful of people who couldn't check and verify?"

Roman winces. "Yeah, you're right. The first one. 'Cause then you know once you get rid of them, everything else is fine."

"Of course, that does present the problem of how such a bad actor got into a position like that in the first place, which presents its own list of problems, but…"

"But we know how to deal with those." Roman looks at him. "Because that's what we do."

Janus looks at him and smiles. "That's right, sweetie. That's what we do."

"I think I know how I want to proceed. Do you?"

"I've got a few ideas."

***

They walk up to Virgil's office together. Sarah gives them a smile and buzzes them in. Virgil looks up from behind his desk.

"Hello agents," he greets as they sit down, "so. What have you got for me?"

General Taglist: @frxgprince@potereregina@gattonero17@iamhereforthegayshit@thefingergunsgirl@awkwardandanxiousfander@creative-lampd-liberties@djpurple3@winterswrandomness@sanders-sides-uncorrect-quotes@iminyourfandom@bullet-tothefeels@full-of-roman-angst-trash @ask-elsalvador @ramdomthingsfrommymind@demoniccheese83@pattonsandershugs @el-does-photography @princeanxious@firefinch-ember@fandomssaremysoul@im-an-anxious-wreck@crazy-multifandomfangirl @punk-academian-witch@enby-ralsei@unicornssunflowersandstuff@wildhorsewolf @thetruthaboutthesun @stubbornness-and-spite @princedarkandstormv @your-local-fookin-deadmeme @angels-and-dreams@averykedavra @a-ghostlight-for-roman @treasurechestininterweb @cricketanne @queerly-fluid-fan @compactdiscdraws@cecil-but-gayer@i-am-overly-complicated@annytheseal@alias290@tranquil-space-ninja @arxticandy @mychemically-imbalanced-romance@whyiask@crows-ace @emilythezeldafan@frida0043 @ieatspinalcords @snowyfires@cyanide-violence@oonagh2@xxpanic-at-the-everywherexx@rabbitsartcorner @percy-07734@triflingassailantofmyemotions @virgil-sanders-the-gay-emo@cerulean-watermelon@puffed-up-bees@meltheromanstan@joyrose-fandomer@insanitori@mavenmush@justablah65@10paradox10@uhhh-hi-there-i-am-nervous@cutebisexualmess@bella-bugatti-frogetti-baguetti@ultrageekygirl

#dragonbabbles #sanders sides #fic #roman sanders #janus sanders #deceit sanders #sympathetic deceit #virgil sanders

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mitamicah · 9 months ago

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Oh telling things, just talking like 👀👀👀👀.

Oh i once ripped my pants from sitting in the snow too long, had a big hole in my pants and had to walk home like that (was only a five minutes walk and i was seven)

I once fell off a pony and no one noticed 😃, i just sat there and waited until they came back, greeted me and then were completely surprised, because they had not noticed. The pony was sweet :3☺️☺️☺️

I went into haunted house as a child and afterwards it took two adults and almost twenty minutes to get me off my neighbour, i held onto that poor boy for dear life while screaming and crying. He wore a vampire costume and i was a witch or cat.

I used go be obsessed with wearing a dinosaur costume 😃😃. I also used to have a hat with cat ears and eye holes but grew out of it 😔.

I have a horrible sense of orientation, its almost criminal. I once drank half a bottle of sleeping medicine (sleep issues due to other meds) and slept for 18 hours.

Oh and i got hit by cars a few times but never something bad, sturdy bones and strong kitty.

My twin (my most beloved) and I usually plan multiple movies days, our record is three movies in one day, nine hours in the cinema.

My twin and I once "attacked" each other with stamps and had to walk through the entire building to wash our stained faces because there was only one working sink.

I am terrible on skates, i once fell and managed to land in the only puddle, my entire back and thighs and butt were soaking wet. And cold.

I went to school in a hospital for some time and that was interesting, smallest school i ever went to. I think i still have the clay bowl I made somewhere. And i will never forgive the nurse in another hospital for just turning the tv off i was watching a movie and have to this day not been able to find it again and it was almost 13 years ago, was very uncool.

I once slept through fireworks going off right next to my room, and through a pillow thrown at my face to check if I was still alive, i also once rolled on top of someone and slept through the other person pushing me back on my side.

Hopefully your day will turn better 💛💛💛

Wait ... how is that even possible OVO oh no I am so sorry that sounds horrible but also hilarious at the same time :'D xD

Another incidence on 'how did that even happen' x'D that is a cute story tho - just a silly little time with a pony x'D

Awww sweet summer child (litterally) :'3 <333 sounds like the neighbour was somewhat patient with you tho, that's nice :'D

Ngl dinosaur costumes are cool :D!!! oh no I hate when that happens :'3 would we just stay the right size for our comfort clothes forever :'D

I can relate to the bad location skills x'D

Oh wow that is a long ass nap OVO I have tried something similar (20 hours but not because of sleep medicine but just pure old exhaustion) and it is very disorienting :'D

I am not sure if I should say that you are very lucky or unlucky for that one :'D this cat definitely have nine lives x'D

Awwwn I love that - normalize sibling dates :'D <3

Hahahahaah that sounds like a lovely and silly memory x'D

Oh nooooo :'D whelp you have more experience on skates than I do it seems which is not hard since I never trusted myself on skates x'D hahaha

I agree, not cool of the nurse :'3 must've been a movie you were quite into as well if you still remember so far after the fact OVO

Wait .... how OVO? I would've been acting like a scared/angsty cat or dog if that happened to me :'D

Thank you for sharing all these fun little facts and stories Jay ^V^ I hope it is alright I submit this :'D? otherwise let me know and I'll take it down <33

#a wall of silly facts and stories #gotta love it!!#replies

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pinktyuns · 2 years ago

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( this is a teaser for my most recent fic called SHOEGAZE SEX! its out now & being updated so i hope u check it out!! <3 )

being roommates with someone who was previously a stranger was interesting, taehyun had decided. being roommates with someone had you learning about weird intimate personal things that you didn’t just know about people.

like when beomgyu first asked taehyun how he felt about you, beomgyus childhood best friend, moving into their spare room and them splitting rent 3 ways instead of 2, taehyun didn’t know anything about you when you showed up on their, and now your, doorstep for the first time, smiling shyly.

that first day when you introduced yourself before all your living materials showed up taehyun didn’t know anything about you, just that you and beomgyu grew up best friends after beomgyu bit you in the pre-k. if he was being honest, he expected you to be everything like beomgyu, loud, talkative, kind of messy, but endearing and loving either way. taehyun was partially right, it was obvious that you were loving, but he hadn’t spent enough time with you to know if you were endearing or not; however, you were nothing like your best friend. where beomgyu was loud you seemed more reserved, thinking before you spoke. where beomgyu never took out his empty cereal bowls from the sink you picked up everything you used, it was like you weren’t even there. and you didn’t scream at soobin over discord playing video games at godly hours of the morning, which was nice considering your room was right next to taehyuns.

it was nice being your roommate, you were nice. granted, you and taehyun were definitely not close enough to be considered friends, maybe acquaintances.

he would watch your anime with you in the living room and you would sit at the kitchen table together doing homework at night, both of you slaving over your stem majors. when you guys realized you went to the same on-campus gym, you started walking there together, sometimes with small talk but mostly walking tandem in silence, which was nice, the silence with you was somehow comforting. at the end of his workouts he would always come find you, waiting to walk back with you or sometimes even grab a protein smoothie. you even offered to help him dye his hair from the pale pink to the bright blue in your shared bathroom, your hands stained with blue like you had killed a smurf as taehyun washed his hair out, quiet indie music filling the bathroom.

it was nice, and taehyun, even though knowing nothing of importance about you, decided he liked you.

but being roommates with someone had you knowing interesting, personal things about them, even if taehyun thought he knew nothing of importance.

taehyun knew things about you some of your closest friends didn’t, like he couldn’t name your favorite color but he could name exactly what body wash you used and could probably describe the smell in detail (eucalyptus, with a little spearmint, and tea tree), he knew what cereal you ate late at night when you would get hungry (frosted flakes), he knew your coffee order (cold brew with oat milk creamer at home, an iced caramel americano with oat milk at coffee shops), taehyun knew what perfume you used (beomgyu gifted it to you every year for your birthday, it smelled like poppies and rhubarb and a little like pear, it was crisp and sweet), taehyun knew that if beomgyu fell asleep on the couch you would get the comfy pillows and fluffy blankets from his bed and drape them over him, taehyun knew that if you used the last of your shared protein powder, it would be replaced before he would even notice, taehyun knew that you seemed to hate conflict, like the time when beomgyu and yeonjun got into a stupid, loud, screaming match of an argument in the living room you retreated, closing the door to your room and turning music up LOUD, taehyun could recognize your steps in the hall, he knew your favorite pair of shoes, the times you woke up at, the times you liked to shower, he knew you HATED the “big light” as you called it, illuminating your guys’ apartment with small, warm space lights and always having the windows open during the day.

he knew all these weird intimate things about you without even realizing it, but after about a month and a half of you living together, taehyun came to realize something else, and it was the kind of music you liked to listen to, and it was the loud kind. loud, annoying, blaring through the walls shoegaze punk music started coming from your room at all times of the day. if you were home, the music was playing and he could not stand it.

who the fuck listened to guitar solos above tracks for minutes on end? and why did it sound like you had a fucking amplifier connected to the said guitar solos making them scream through the walls, interrupting taehyuns space. he would come to know that you were in fact not listening to guitar solos, you were playing them.

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deathwords334 · 5 months ago

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Yet Another Post Dogma Story

(Ok this one is definitely not a Drabble. It's double the length of the others so... I guess it's a proper fic at this point? It's only one scene though...)

Aziraphale bursted right through the doors to the offices of the death angels. By then, the angel had walked through that door enough times that no one was too surprised to see him. Any anxiety he may of had previously being around them were also long gone. The past several months had been brutal for him. He didn’t expect it to be a walk in the park; he would have to contend with the archangels who (sans a certain Angel of Death) was all but praying for his downfall. Then there was the Metatron. He was ‘supportive’, but Aziraphale had been there long enough to know that all his compliments were empty.

He could not leave Heaven, no matter how much he wanted to run back to his bookshop (and maybe even to the arms of a certain demon, no matter how much he resisted). The Voice of God did everything except explicitly threaten punishment if he even stepped foot towards the elevator without being supervised.

Heaven was still as deafeningly quiet as it always was. Sitting at his desk with the mountains of paperwork only made it worse. Sometimes he found himself stacking them in such a way that they looked like the humans he knew below. If you really squinted… and your eyes were watering…

There were only two places where he could find comfort. One was a storage closet that was dark enough that the blinding white of heaven couldn’t shine through. He often went there when he had to suppress his screams for a very short period of time. Less frequently, but for longer periods of time, there was Azrael’s office. The whole floor was isolated from the head offices by a separate elevator and wasn’t under surveillance (per se). It was a perfect safe space: sound proof, dimly lit outside of the soft lights of the lamps, had a nice soft couch with blankets and pillows, and, most importantly, books. So many books.

Azrael gave his blessing for him to come and go as he pleased. Under one condition.

Aziraphale knocked on the door, a certain couplet the archangel suggested using. After a minute or two, he got his response. Azrael knocked back and the blonde stormed into the room. He catapulted himself onto the couch with a loud groan into one of the pillows.

“You alright, Supreme Archangel?” Azrael asked as he closed the door.

“More than. Yes! Never been better!” His response was muffled into the pillow still but very beleaguered. Azrael chuckled to himself and walked past the couch, back to his desk. When Aziraphale heard his friend’s pen scribbling onto papers, he moved himself in the most undignified way so he was resting on his side. Once more, he groaned.

“Why thank you, sir. That couch has been flying all over the room. It was getting rather annoying.” The Angel of Death casually answered, not even bothering to look up.

“Just need to close my eyes.” He murmured. Oh sure… That was all he needed to do. He didn’t want someone to pay attention to him whining. Where would someone get that idea?

“So Crowley’s taught you the art of sleeping…”

“I need some tea…”

He raised an eyebrow. “What happened to the one I brought you this morning?”

“Downed it after my meeting with Saraquel.”

“Quite the ball buster, aren’t they?” No response. Azrael sighed quietly. While he initially decided that he should focus on work and let sleeping dogs lie, he instead got a better idea. “We did just use that couch, you know-“

Aziraphale bolted up into a sitting position, eyes wide open. ‘Right! I came down for a reason.”

“Did you.” The supreme archangel tried to ignore the bemused ‘tone’ in Azrael’s voice.

“I was thinking some about Project ‘Make Heaven Tolerable Again’!”

“Told you Heaven was never tolerable.”

Aziraphale grumbled. “Michael and Uriel won’t budge on some of my requests.”

“Requests?” Azrael finally looked up from his papers. Just as he expected, the archangel hadn’t heard anything about this. It was partially by design. Aziraphale wanted to surprise him. However, it also showed how little the other archangels thought of the prospect.

“Yes. I’ve put in requests to bring in some more plants. I decided to use His arrival as a reason to spruce up the place, you see.” Aziraphale waved his hands grandly, expressing the sheer scope of said project.

“I’m pretty sure they haven’t even looked at those.” Azrael grumbled. He pressed his lips into his open palm. “I told you. They aren’t inclined to listen, especially after what happened to Gabriel.”

“Well, you can’t fault me for trying.”

“No… Not at all.”

“I was hoping they’d let you bring some more life up there.” Aziraphale smiled gently to the other. Azrael blinked back, but the blonde could see the creases of his cheeks starting to form. He knew that smile. “Which leads me to my Idea.”

“Did you just…”

“Start from the bottom up!” Aziraphale was beaming, all too happy with the ‘Idea’. He was practically jumping on the cushion. He motioned towards the window. “It works for humans. A lot of social revolutions started amongst lower ranking officials. Surely, we can do that up here. Muriel was rather interested in earth.”

But Azrael shook his head. He could argue the consequences of some of those ‘social revolutions’, but he didn’t want to. “Not all angels are like Muriel. Muriel is a good old fashioned angel: they soak up information like a sponge. They probably would’ve been chosen to be heaven’s representative had management got you back earlier.” He sighed. “Angels aren’t even like Gabriel… when his memory was gone. They’re stubborn, stupid… stupidly lonely.”

The supreme archangel’s brows furrowed and his lips pouted slightly. “… You’ve been keeping an eye on them.” Azrael's stiffened posture told him everything. He had already concluded that the archangel of death had not entirely lost who he was before being revived, so surely… “Have you been trying to improve heaven this whole time?”

“No.” But Aziraphale smiled giddily. What a liar. “I’m not in this for heaven. I’m in this for me.”

“Of course you are.” The supreme archangel scooted to the other end of the couch and rested against the arm. “What have you done then?”

“…” Azrael looked his boss up and down before letting out a little sigh. Not entirely one of defeat. There was fondness in there too. “We’ve familiarized ourselves with some of the more isolated angels.”

“Isolated.” Aziraphale breathed thoughtfully.

“Heaven is a big space… There’s angels who haven’t seen another being in centuries. Some of my cohorts make rounds to check in on them, talk, and give them small tasks… It’s far from perfect. We’ve been shooed away. But…. But we have ways.”

He raised a coy brow. “Like?”

Azrael covered his mouth instinctually. His bemusement, though, was far from obscured. “Have you heard about the Halloween haunting?”

“I can’t say I have…”

“Hmph…” He grumbled and muttered into his palm. Aziraphale hummed and shifted once more to a comfortable position on the couch. He kept his focus firmly on the archangel’s ‘expression’. It was rare to see the stoic angel of death pouting and huffing. Certainly wasn’t something he’d want others to see, so, in a way that was almost sinful, the supreme archangel wanted to remember this moment. Engrave it in his mind for moments when he needed to smile. And, of course, never tell anyone about it. “Well! On All Hallows Eve, some… ‘mysterious’ things happen upstairs.” His shoulders slouched a little when he didn’t get a reaction. “Are you sure no one has even asked you about a black cat?”

“A black…” The blonde wrecked through his brain. Management had never been forthright with office affairs unless it was related to Earth or regulations that he specifically overstepped. He had his ways, though. The problem was heaven was often very quiet outside of the fight for power. That part he got good at ignoring. Still, there were a couple times when he heard that the archangels were complaining about a black cat that was running around heaven. It wasn’t a living cat, surely. A ghost… He gasped and looked to Azrael again. “Oh!”

Azrael grinned menacingly, this time not thinking to cover it for Aziraphale’s comfort. “Yes! My favorite… He works for me. His name is Sir Reginald.”

“He ‘works’ for you?”

“…” He pressed his lips together. “I’ll explain another time.”

“Yes.” Aziraphale answered quietly. Azrael had a lot he needed to explain, didn’t he? “Why Reginald?”

“Felt fitting. And he seems to like it.”

“After the Count?”

“Nah.” With the snap of a finger, a book flew off the shelf and into the angel of death’s hand. A small red book. It had obviously been read multiple times, but given its age, it was in good shape. Aziraphale could even sense that it had a miracle on it; it was probably meant to keep it from deteriorating. He looked closer at the cover. ‘Reginald by Saki’. “Surprised you went with one of them. Surely you’ve met Saki before.”

He shook his head. “Unfortunately not… He was a busy man. Never stayed in one spot for too long.” Azrael nodded knowingly, but Aziraphale added in a nostalgic tone. “Noel was quite fond of his work, though.”

“Mm.” The black haired angel started fingering through the pages.

“How much of his work do you have?”

He looked back to his bookshelves. “Some… I try not to collect every book in existence, you know.” To emphasize his point, he gestured with the hardback book ever so. “This one was gifted to me by his sister.”

“How sweet.” Suddenly, Aziraphale yawned. How odd… He was struggling to keep his eyes open. “I really do think I’ll close my eyes now.”

“Alright.”

“Don’t let me sleep long?” The supreme archangel slowly sank his body back into the couch, choosing a soft black pillow nearby to be his sleeping companion.

“Of course.”

Aziraphale closed his eyes.

—

It was dark.

The waves were crashing against the cliffside. The rain had stopped… He didn’t expect that…. Aziraphale looked around. It was just as dead as it was back then. But eventually something caught his eye. A mop of red hair… and black clothes.

Oh no…

Crowley… Aziraphale forced his body to move towards his friend. He fell beside his body. Oh how horrid. He was all cut up and torn. They were deep, these cuts. He was surprised the demon wasn’t bleeding. And his expression was so serene.

Hold on. I’ll heal you! Aziraphale went to place his hands on Crowley’s chest, but the demon grabbed them instead.

Angel. Aziraphale could hear his voice. It was so clear. It was so weak… He wanted to cry so much.

Crowley. I’m so sorry.

It’s ok… Do you see it? It’s beautiful isn’t it? From one of the cuts in the demon’s chest there was a flower starting to bloom. It was glowing. It was radiating so much love. It was beautiful. It hurt to look at… it hurt…

Aziraphale gasped loudly and he grasped his chest. Something was threatening to burst. His flower was trying to break free. It wanted to break free…

I want to break free!

—

Aziraphale bolted up in a cold sweat. He thought he did at least. The room was a little brighter than the dark stormy night of his dream… right? Oh the memory of that dream was starting to fade. He placed his hand against his forehead and begged his mind to make any kind of recollection. Whatever happened hurt. He knew that without doubt. But Crowley was there. He was happy. There was love…

As the initial panic subsided, the supreme archangel realized he was not alone. Someone was standing beside him. It must’ve been Azrael. He probably never left his office. Aziraphale turned to his company. “I’m all… right…” The shallow smile on his face faded, and he was fully awake. Azrael was beside him, yes, but so was someone else. He knew them. Or rather he had heard of them a long time ago. There were rumors, but Aziraphale had always assumed they had died in the War. Yet here they were. Full of grace. God’s grace. He couldn’t take his eyes off them; they would not let him. And he didn’t want to. His body was fuzzy, hair sticking up like he was wearing the nicest wool sweater. Body warm like he was drinking his favorite tea on a dark, overcast night. His heart was full. It hadn’t been this full in so long… Be it with Her grace or Crowley’s.

“Told you he’d get overwhelmed.” Azrael had leaned down to his partner, who was in the process of rubbing Aziraphale’s arm. The death angel’s attention was squarely on his eyes. So the archangel whispered in their ear. “No one can deny your grace.”

/Oh stop it/ They turned their head quickly, signing just as fast with one hand. They weren’t mad, though. It was playful yet stern. There was love.

Aziraphale looked between the two beings. He remembered now. The first time he came down to Azrael’s office he saw… Well a moment of intimacy he probably shouldn’t had seen. Azrael and this being. They were lovers, right? No… That didn’t sound right… It was more than that, wasn’t it?

Right. The being in question. Azrael’s other half. They had more scars than him, and they were more methodical. Azrael and indeed every other death angels’ scars were sporadic and varied. Those were from the war. These were far more unique in look, too. They were older and had a slight glow that spoke of a higher plane of existence. One that hadn’t been heard from since before time.

Azrael stared at his boss, cautiously probing. “You know them. Surely…”

The death angel nodded in agreement. They signed. /I go by Ariel. Pleasure, Supreme Archangel/

“Pleasure’s all mine.” Aziraphale smiled a little. Ariel had finally let go of his hands by that point, and in place of that sensation, he found himself gently caressing his own. He allowed it for a little while longer before standing up to leave. “I’m sorry, I’ll just…”

“Oh no. You can stay. We were just letting off some steam.” Azrael assured him before motioning to a record player by the window. Aziraphale hadn’t realized till then that there was music playing quietly in the background. He grimaced. It was modern sounding. He wasn’t fond of it. “I bought this record this morning and I wanted to show it off. They sang on one of the songs.”

A death angel sang? On a human record? “I thought…”

/Long story…/ Ariel assured him, their expression stuck still in that melancholic smile. /I’m happy you’re awake, though. I can report my findings/

Azrael covered his mouth as he teased. “So that’s where you were this morning.”

They nodded and turned back to their companion. /Some of the angels have still shown signs of recognition of music. Some were tapping along as I passed/

He nodded along. “Brilliant. We might need to delay the next step though… His return has thrown a wrench in all of this.”

/I can keep this whole thing going for a while longer-/

“Ah excuse me, but I’m lost.” Aziraphale chimed in. “Why are we talking about music?”

“We’re gonna introduce human music to heaven.”

“But the way you’re approaching all of this… You’re acting like they’ve never heard music before.”

“At this rate, they haven’t.” He stated a matter a factly.

Aziraphale scoffed. “Oh really. Heavenly choirs haven’t gone away.”

“They have…. When was the last time you heard someone singing up here?” Aziraphale was about to proclaim, but lowered his head in thought, instead. When was the last time he heard the choir? It wasn’t recent. It must’ve been around when Jesus was born, right? Yet it didn’t sound like the choir he remembered. Initially, he thought that the roster had changed at some point, but now he wasn’t so sure. “You know how Heaven is with human things. I said there ‘is no place’ for human things in Heaven because no one has handled human things since the war. From what I’ve seen, most of it was thrown away or abandoned…. It remains where human souls reside. Angels never go there.”

“But what about The Sound of Music? It’s Her… favorite…” A thought passed the blonde’s mind then. When was the last time he had seen Sound of Music? He heard the lyrics constantly. Pretty much since it was first introduced to heaven. But… When was the movie ever shown… Aziraphale sat back down. “I’ll be damned.”

“You’re almost there. But…” Azrael made a motion with his hands, signifying they needed to backtrack. “Before Gabriel wound up at your doorstep, something… happened. Well, a lot happened. But before then. He approached me, and asked about Ariel.”

“Yes?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Aziraphale. When Ruha was demoted, they were placed under Gabriel’s demand. He hated them. Ruha and Ptahil alike. He specifically went after them during the war. When we were revived, he never even paid attention to Ariel. Then he suddenly asks me if they’re ok, and if we’re still a couple. Don’t you think it’s odd?”

So Ariel really was… The supreme archangel wasn’t part of any specific cliques during the before times. All he could do was hear second hand- But he quickly stopped that train of thought. He realized now was not the time to start putting together fragments from the past. “Maybe he was feeling repentant that day.”

“… This is Gabriel we’re talking about. But I felt something.” Aziraphale raised an eyebrow. “Love. I felt love coming from him.” Aziraphale mouthed an ‘ah’ as Azrael continued. “It took a while to piece it all together.”

Ariel picked it up. /Lord Beelzebub was humming the same song for years. I believe it’s a song by Buddy Holly/

“Everyday!” Aziraphale gasped.

/Yes/

It made sense! Despite the revelation that the (former) supreme archangel and the (former) Duke of hell had developed feelings for each other, the role the records (and the song they were forced to play) in it all had eluded Aziraphale. No one had ever said anything about it. Even when the two beings sang it together as they left earth.

Azrael waved a hand or emphasis. “Then I saw it. Gabriel learned the song from Lord Beelzebub. He didn’t even know what music was till then. Don’t you think that’s odd? And Lord Beelzebub didn’t even approach it as a hymn. They specifically said it was a tuneful way of conveying a message.”

/And if Gabriel has never heard music before, why would lower angels know of it?/

“Likewise, if Gabriel could understand and appreciate human music, shouldn’t other angels as well?”

“So you two are introducing the concept...”

“Mostly through foot taps and such.”

“…. You’re going to use the Sound of Music.” Aziraphale clapped his hands in glee. “Wonderful! Absolutely brilliant! I’ll help wherever I can.”

“Any suggestions then?”

He smirked. “Well I wouldn’t like to brag, but I’ve been told I have a decent singing voice. It won’t be full-on singing of course. Perhaps some light humming.”

“Perfect. And with your position, they’ll feel inclined to listen.”

“You really think so?” Aziraphale all but begged.

“You’re the best Supreme Archangel we can ask for, my friend.”

It was just what he wanted to hear. His body melted slightly, oozing appreciation and love. It was the first real compliment he had gotten in months.

“I hate to cut our meeting short, but I do believe you need to go back upstairs, Supreme Archangel.” Before he could protest, Azrael pointed out. “The Metatron will get suspicious.”

/I’ll escort him/ Ariel assured.

“Be careful.”

/Always/ They promised before the two kissed.

—

“So… mm.” Aziraphale shifted about a little as the two waited for the elevator. When was the last time he found himself speechless? Granted, this was a different type of speechless, wasn’t it? Ariel was his ally, even by proxy, but they still were a personification of God Herself. Even in their ‘undead’ state, they were the closest thing he would experience for a while. Until He showed up… Till he finally got the chance to talk to Her. “Have you two been together for a while?”

/Even before Time was made/

“Oh. How wonderful.”

They tilted their head slightly, still with their sad smile. /What about you and Crowley?/

“Oh we’re not-“

/Of course you are. I saw you two back in Edinburgh/

“Saw-“

/I felt your love. His love/

“Oh… Well.” He laughed quietly, trying to ignore the quiet burning sensation in his cheeks. The bell rang as the elevator doors opened. Ariel gently ushered their boss by proxy into the lift.

/Listen… I know you want to make heaven better. We really do appreciate it. But… Be careful/

“Certainly. I’m very prepared.” He assured them. But watching Ariel’s ‘response’ made him feel rather uneasy.

/Don’t trust anyone/ They stared right into his eyes.

He smiled nervously, still trying to keep his jovial tone. “Even Azrael?”

/Especially Azrael/ The bell rang.

#good omens #aziraphale #good dogma #good omens au #good omens 2 #good omens post s2 #good omens fanfiction #azrael #I really should be working on the next chapter of Good Dogma but...#good omens post season 2

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