#i need to take every old oc i’ve had and throw them at the wall like paint splatter

[vacantgodling]

i need to go to the cy school of making some ridiculous unlikeable assholes and shaking them around like a chew toy

[irish-trash-cash]

Oh mt GOD I need more of Oz and Nell just fucking there brains out

No Release

The Batman (2022) Oz Cobblepot x OC/Reader

Word Count: 2,300

Thank you for asking me to write more! Once again this is absolutely shameless smut. No plot- a few paragraphs and they’re fucking. I’m not sorry, I just want to ruin this old man’s life.

I’ve been rewatching The Sopranos and James Gandolfini is making me think filthy things about Oz.

Warnings: Sexual content, strong language.

-

“We’ll just be real quiet about it when Carmine’s around.” Oz’s words echo in Nell’s head.

Yeah, real fucking quiet.

Oz was seated across from them in a leather armchair, and Nell was incredibly distracted by the sound of his ring tapping his whisky glass as he did his damnedest to give them his best fuck-me eyes.

In the middle of a meeting with the aforementioned Carmine.

Nell was tense, to say the least. It was taking everything in her not to check Oz out. He was dressed pretty casually- a white button down and navy slacks, paired with his usual suspenders and a colorful tie. He takes a moment to cuff his sleeves- and Nell’s eyes trail to the flex of his hands and the glint of his Rolex as he rolls the material up his forearms.

Their gazes meet again and he smiles- Oz knows exactly what he’s doing.

They hadn’t been… intimate since that night in his office- they’d hardly had time for one another. Sure, Nell had been around him every day while they were on the clock, but they’d taken enough of a risk fucking in his office during operating hours, and it wasn’t like they had much time in private. A fact that was beginning to drive Nell up a wall.

Their frustration wasn’t going unnoticed- Oz had seen the tension in them all week and he loved it. He’d gone out of his way to touch them however he could- simply because he could- and the effect he had on them was a sight to behold. The way they’d lean toward him and sigh as he runs a hand over the small of their back- Nell’s suit separating them too much to enjoy it- pulling him in close for a kiss before leaving the Lounge in the early morning and returning to their respective apartments.

Nell does their best not to blush as Oz stares them down- they don’t even register what Carmine is saying- the only thing on their mind is how quickly the meeting will be over with so they can get Oz alone. It had been a while since Nell had been serious with anyone- and they realized after a few days that their imagination was not enough to sate them. They wanted Oz- his hands, his mouth, his words- fuck. They can feel themself throb at the thought of leaving the meeting- following him back to the Maserati and pulling him into the backseat. It was pouring rain and late at night, surely no one would know if he just bent them over and-

“Have a good night, Carmine.” Oz’s words bring Nell back to reality as he stands, and Nell obediently follows, nodding at their shared boss and finally turning to the door. She feels warm, and she thanks god that her collared shirt hides the lingering bruises along her neck.

The tension between them is palpable as Nell follows Oz down the hall. It’s a Wednesday night and there’s no chance the Lounge will have any visitors. So Nell once again decides fuck it and reaches forward, wrapping a hand around Oz’s arm and pulling him hard to the left. He protests of course, but Nell silences him with a kiss that he eagerly reciprocates- teeth clashing as they throw open the door to one of the Club’s private rooms and back inside.

Oz knows exactly what her intentions are, and he closes the door behind them as Nell grabs him by the tie, pulling him closer. He makes quick work of her jacket- thankful that she wasn’t wearing a side arm tonight- and tosses it to the floor while she makes quick work of her belt.

“You’re that fucking needy, huh Doll?” Oz practically sneers, lips brushing against hers as deft hands grab at the buttons of her shirt. If any other man had treated them this way- getting handsy- speaking to them so filthily- Nell would have knocked his lights out. But coming from Oz? It was so enticing. Nell feels themself flush as he just manhandles them, backing them into the pool table at the center of the room, and Nell doesn’t resist as he grabs them by the collar and bends them over it.

At that point Nell realizes neither of them had turned the lights on and they bury their head in their arms to stifle a moan as Oz’s hands find their way under their shirt, trailing down their waist and giving a squeeze. The sound of the rain outside is loud enough to mask any noises they might make, but Nell doesn’t trust themself to stay silent, especially when the Lounge adjacent is completely empty.

But Nell curses as Oz’s hands move to their waistband, tugging their pants down their hips and smoothing rough hands over the bare skin. Nell wishes she could see him, but the darkness was making it so much more arousing- and it takes everything in them not to moan as he presses rough fingers into their thighs.

“Alright, Sweetheart. Let Oz take care of ya’.” He mutters, breath ghosting over them. Nell realizes he’s dropped to his knees behind them, and they arch into his touch as he squeezes their thighs and spreads, revealing them to him in the dark. “Just try to be quiet for me, okay?”

Nell wonders if they’re dreaming as Oz leans forward and pushes his hot tongue into the apex of their thighs- lapping at them in long, slow strokes- and Nell whimpers, hand coming up to cover their mouth as he hums contentedly, the vibrations shooting straight through them. Nell can’t help but let out a gasp as he sucks hard, right there-

He pulls away for a second, and Nell can’t help but push their hips back into him.

“I told you to be fucking quiet, Nellie.” Oz scolds her, and Nell feels herself flush as he spits on it before tasting her again, tongue dipping into her center as he brings a hand up to tease in hard circles. It felt so fucking good it hurt, and Nell nearly chokes as Oz moans into her, flattening his tongue to spread her out. His hands move up their legs, hooking inside and spreading them wider. Nell stifles a sob as Oz buries his face into it from behind while they’re braced against the table, thighs shaking. Their breath catches and they’re almost-

“Oz, I’m gonna come- I-” Nell whines, but goddamn him- Oz pulls away again, and Nell squirms in near-distress at the absence of his warm mouth. They’re so fucking wet they can feel it drip down their thighs, and they’re relieved when Oz stands up and runs a forefinger through the slick, spreading it over them.

“Oh Honey, you’re such a slut.” Oz chastises, just caressing her for a second before giving it a slap. The sound echoes obscenely, and Nell lets out a sob as he pushes two thick fingers into her with ease, alleviating the growing pressure in her core. He can’t get enough of the way she sighs below him as he breaks her in, and Nell realizes that they can feel his gold ring nearly enter them with each movement. Their hand covers their mouth again, in an attempt to muffle the moans they spill as he scissors them open- the sound of their arousal filling the room when he hooks his fingers just right.

That’s when Nell hears something from the hall outside.

Nell makes a move to stand- they know the door doesn’t lock so they’re acting on instinct, but Oz reacts faster, placing his hands on their hips and pushing them face-down onto the pool table, pinning them in place.

Every instinct is telling Nell to move Oz off of her and re-dress herself, but the thrill of it- the idea of someone walking in and seeing her spread open over a fucking pool table by her boss? It was unfathomable. So they stay still for a moment- revel in the throb in their abdomen as Oz puts weight on their lower back- forcing them to arch into him as they gasp at how hard he is just from toying with her.

“You wanna get fucked that badly, huh Sweetheart?” Oz whispers as he leans over her, hands shifting down the curve of her hips before leaving. Nell doesn’t have to guess where he goes- she can hear the sound of his suspenders snapping undone- and she wishes she could grab hold of something besides the smooth surface of the table. Oz elects to stay fully-dressed again, releasing himself from the confines of his dress slacks and dragging through the slick between Nell’s thighs.

“Please-” Nell tries their best to be quiet as Oz teases them, coating himself- hands holding firmly onto their waist as he rolls his hips forward and sinks into them. Nell can’t help but moan at the feeling of him splitting them open like this, and Oz is quick to quiet them, leaning forward to wrap a hand over their mouth. Then he’s pulling them toward him until she’s arching off the table and her back meets his chest, their hips slotted together as he hits something deep inside of her. He’s so thick, Nell realizes- and she whines against the hand over her face as she throbs around him.

Oz pulls her closer to his chest and fuck- he reaches down and pushes his fingers onto her, rubbing in slow circles as he just stays still. Oz holds her there, listening to the muffled sounds she’s making from behind his hand before he inches out, and Nell chokes as he nearly leaves her before pushing right back in to the hilt.

Oz takes a minute to roll his hips into theirs and fuck he can feel them squeeze along every vein as they come, moaning against his hand, and Oz does his best to fuck them through it. It takes every ounce of his self-control not to come with them, his hips stuttering for a moment before he has to fully pull out, still dripping.

“One isn’t good enough for ya’?” Oz teases as Nell shifts in his arms, trying to get him back inside. She says something- lips moving against his palm, and he obliges her, sliding back in before releasing her mouth, his hand trailing down to settle around her neck.

“Fuck, you feel good.” Nell whines as they squeeze him, and Oz loves the way they sound praising him like that. As they start grinding their hips back against him, Oz lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding- rolling into them as he sets a pace with shallow thrusts. Hand still around her throat, he tilts her head, sinking his teeth into the side of her neck, a little too high on the collar.

Nell wants to be mad at that- she wants to pull away and tell him off, but the reality of him marking her- wanting people to know she belongs to someone. It’s fucking feral , and Nell can’t stop the helpless way she leans back into him when he squeezes her jugular- his other hand trailing down to help as he works her into coming around him again.

“Don’t- don’t stop. Please.” Nell can barely manage to say through gasping breaths as they come again, clamping down around him like a vice. Oz releases them, getting them face-down into the table once more- and Nell blushes at just how wet they sound as Oz fucks the tension out of them. He puts weight on their shoulders, and the new angle nearly makes Nell scream- and they hope the edge of the pool table against their hips will leave a nice bruise to remember it by.

Oz curses as they shift backwards, meeting his pace, taking on some of the work. They know he’s close- they can tell by the way his movements falter and his hands squeeze tighter, moving around to pull their thighs apart and open them up to him more.

“Fuck-” Oz rasps “Where-”

“Jesus, just fill me.” Nell chokes out, and Oz does. He fucks into them once, twice- and then he’s shuddering above them, gasping out their name as he comes. White-hot pleasure rips through him as he growls, giving them exactly what they asked for.

Oz pulls out much quicker than they want him to, releasing their hips and moving up, warm hands settling on Nell’s shoulders.

“You alright Doll, was that too much?” Oz asks, and Nell lets out a soft laugh. His concern is endearing, and she wishes he could be this soft around them more often. They yearn to be that close to him- and they can tell Oz wants the same. But what would they even do? He’s still their boss- it wasn’t like he was going to ask them on a date- anything public was very strictly off-the-table.

“I’m fine, Oz- that was-“ Nell assures him, catching their breath as they push off the tabletop. “I needed that.” they add, as they fix their slacks before feeling around for their discarded jacket.

“So,” Oz starts, and Nell turns to where his voice is as he cracks open the door to check the hall. They watch as the light illuminates the scar across his cheek and his gold teeth as he smiles, and Nell desperately wants to kiss him. Their eyes meet as he continues-

“You want me to make you something for dinner?”

[sleeping-on-cracking-ice]

can you please write an imagine for nigari?? he have a love/hate relationship with a girl where they throw shades to each other but they always have the other's back during games, and one day a guy flirts with her at the beach and he gets mad

I’d love to. Thanks for requesting! 😉

A Bullet Between The Eyes | Suguru Niragi

{Alice In Borderland Masterlist}

Character(s): Niragi (ft. OC’s)

Summary: Niragi and you have a bickering relationship with each other. One night a guy tries to buy you a drink, not noticing the psychotic man standing nearby.

Warning: a lot of swearing, smoking, violence, threatening

Word Count: 2.6k

*reader is female

Niragi gif credit

Music was blaring through the speakers at the highest volume possible and made your ears almost bleed. You swore you could feel the bass in your bones, shaking them against each other to the beat. You had become immune to the deafening dubstep music and the annoying yells of everyone in the large crowd. People were pushed up close and personal to one another, grinding against each other like a pack of horny animals. It made you sick.

You leant against the neon-lighted bar that was fixated about twenty metres from the dance floor. You watched as people pushed each other into the pool nearby as you took a large puff from your cigarette. You had never smoked before being thrown into this horrific world, but the stress and worry brought you to consider the damaging habit.

“Bunch of idiots,” you muttered angrily under your breath. “How the fuck are they having fun? Do they not realize their brutal fates are waiting to creep up on them?”

Your close friend Sara sat in the stool beside you. She glanced at you and then in the direction you were staring. “I mean, I guess that’s why they’re having fun. They only have such a short life ahead of them,” she responded, turning back to the bar and taking a swig of her drink.

“I mean to be honest Y/N, I’m surprised you’re not letting loose of your cold attitude and having fun,” Sara stated over her shoulder to you.

You broke your gaze from everyone else and looked at her from the side. “Why is that?” you asked, curious as to what she meant.

She looked at you and smirked. “Don’t play dumb. I’ve seen you,” she chuckled.

“Huh?”

“You and that militant. You’ve been getting awfully close to the psychopath. When did it all start?” she sneered.

You pulled a confused expression before realizing what she was referring to. “Oh you mean Niragi,” you said, “We just help each other out at games, it increases our chance of surviving.” You brushed off her accusation and took another puff of your cigarette.

“Sorry if I’m being nosy, but it’s just strange,” Sara assured. “In the months I’ve been here, I’ve never seen Niragi warm up to someone. He’s always remained the same unempathetic, abusive bastard that I’ve always known.”

You stared at her side profile, not being too sure what to say.

You wouldn’t say that you had a good relationship with Niragi, considering the fact that he really did know how to push your buttons. If anything he was your enemy. But for some reason when you two were placed into the same groups to complete a game, you work together and against the others.

It was like he completely changed his persona from a cold-hearted prick to an overly protective (still a prick) figure. It gave you whiplash at times.

You let out a small chuckle and smirked at Sara. “And how would working with Niragi make me want to go and dance more Sara?” you questioned, going back to the topic you started at.

Sara turned herself around fully and stared you down right in the eyes. “All I’m saying is, if you’re looking for a quick way to die, keep sticking around Niragi. You know how he is Y/N, and when he gets the chance, he’ll put a bullet between your eyes with that rifle of his.”

She stood up off her stool and strutted towards the pool with her drink in her hand, probably to have some fun herself, considering the games were beginning in the next couple of hours. No one knew which night would be their last.

Your eyes followed her figure as she walked away. “Huh, maybe she’s just jealous,” you muttered.

You turned around and leaned over the bar, asking the bartender to make you a drink. The blonde girl nodded and got to mixing it for you. You sat in the seat that Sara previously was and let out a big sigh. You honestly were getting tired of the constant parties every single night, it was starting to get old.

No matter how hard you tried to ignore it, your mind kept bringing you back to what Sara was saying about Niragi and you. Was it really getting that obvious? Were other people noticing?

The bartender slid the drink towards you and you thanked her. You lifted the cold drink to your lips and tipped your head back, taking a big amount into your body. You wanted to be at least slightly intoxicated when the games start. It always helped ease your anxiety.

As your head began to feel heavier and your limbs became a bit numb, you noticed that the usual warm chatter that surrounded the neon bar had dissolved, almost to silence. You were confused, whipping your head around to see the cause.

You felt your face drop into a scowl as you noticed the familiar face that you hated so much. Niragi’s black and white button up turned turquoise from the lighting, and his eyes which were a deep dark black as he peered around the bar looking for something. You locked eyes with the all too familiar rifle that hung on his shoulders effortlessly, obviously just there for show. 

You pointed that out to him one time which ended with your back against a hallway wall and the barrel of the rifle pressed harshly against your temple with Niragi’s disgusting spit in your eye. “You still think it’s for show?” he hissed.

He tried so desperately to get you to be scared of him at The Beach. Why in the hell did that brutal and bully personality of his fade at the games?

You swiveled back around in your seat, facing your back towards the frightening man.

‘Why can’t he just fuck off,’ you thought to yourself. ‘Why do I have to run into him everyday.’ It was becoming a bit suspicious, the amount of times you would catch Niragi around the corner of a room you’re in. He would always play it off as by chance but you’ve begun to think otherwise.

A hand slowly placed itself on your bare lower back and someone leaned in close to your ear. “Hey there sweetheart, I’ve been looking for you all night. A little birdie told me you would be here,” you heard Niragi purr into your ear.

You cringed at his sickening sweet tone and turned away from him. You could smell the slight tang of metallic blood on him. He’d probably ‘took care’ of someone some time earlier.

“What the fuck do you want Niragi,” you growled, not looking him in the eye. Niragi chuckled at your tone.

“That’s not a very nice hello. I thought you would’ve warmed up to me by now. You seem to put an awful lot of trust in me at games.”

He tucked a piece of hair behind your ear and pinched your earlobe gently between his thumb and index finger. You rolled your eyes into the back of your head in annoyance and slapped his hand away from your face.

“Piss off. If you’ve come here just to get on my nerves then you can beat it.” you spat at him harshly. He seemed taken back by your bold movements.

“Are you sure you want to speak to me that way? I might just leave you to die if you’re rude enough to me.” he snickered, keeping that smug smirk on his face that made you want to bash him over the head.

“So be it then, at least when I’m dead I won’t have to deal with your annoying ass.” You stuffed the rest of your cigarette into a tray on the table and stood up out of your seat to face the tall man head on.

He towered over you, that annoying and insolent smile never leaving his tanned face. Just his face alone created a rage in you that was indescribable.

“I don’t need some psychotic man with a machine gun to protect me Niragi. I am fine on my own. If anything, I could beat your cocky ass with my bare hands alone.”

“Well you seem awfully confident. Keep that same attitude when I have you cornered during a game, you might have to prove yourself right in order to survive.”

“Is that a threat?”

“It’s however you want to take it sweetie. A threat or a head-start.”

You frowned up at the man, not knowing how to respond. You walked back to the seat and grabbed your jacket that hung off it. “Have fun by yourself you prick. Why don’t you choose a fucking personality and stop switching between the two. You give me bloody whiplash.” You spat down at his feet, narrowly missing his shoe and marched away from him towards the pool to look for Sara.

You didn’t want to put up with his bullshit that night. You weren’t in the mood to start a verbal war with him, especially in front of everyone.

You found Sara sitting on the edge of the pool. There weren’t a lot of people around her, as everyone was either at the bar or on the dance floor.

You placed your hand gently on her shoulder and sat down next to her with your feet in the heated pool. It was a kind of awkward silence for a few moments before Sara spoke up.

“Sorry about before, I shouldn’t have assumed anything,” she started, looking into your eyes. “I understand that it must be hard for you, being the object of a psychotic man’s desires.” She said empathetically.

You appreciated her concern, as there were times where you were honestly scared for your life around Niragi. He really wasn’t the best person to be around, but you had already known that before you got closer with him. You never thought he would become as annoying and insistent as he had.

“I’m just worried about you. He’s a manipulative and untrustworthy person and I would hate to come back from a game one day to see your body with a bullet through your head.”

You stared into the water thinking about Sara’s words. “I know, I would hate that as well. I don’t trust him like that Sara. I would never put my own life in his hands, because I know he would hurt me with no remorse whatsoever.”

You both sat in silence for a bit with Sara leaning her head onto your shoulder. You wanted to spend this nice time together before leaving, just in case anything was to happen.

“I better go,” she announced after a while. She stood up and placed her hand on the top of your head. “Good luck Y/N. Make sure you don’t die out there. If anyone can survive, it’s you.”

You smiled at her words and looked up at her. “You too Sara. Love you.”

She said it back and then trudged off into the direction of the entrance to the hotel.

You wanted to be alone with your thoughts for a bit, but that didn’t last long when a tipsy young man with brown hair decided to plop himself right next to you, a little too close to just be friendly.

“Hey love! You’re looking awfully gorgeous tonight,” he beamed, placing an arm around your shoulder. You were taken back by his boldness, not knowing how to react.

“Oh, thanks I guess? I mean I’m dressed the same as I always am,” you said trying to keep the conversation light.

“Hmm really? Well I guess you’re just always gorgeous then,” he giggled and leaned closer to you.

You started to panic a little bit. This boy was a bit too flirty for his own good.

“Hey! Do you want to maybe come get a drink with me at the bar?” he asked in a cheery tone. You looked at him in shock and shook your head quickly. “No it’s fine really! I just had one so I don’t feel like another.” you insisted, laughing awkwardly.

“No really it’s fine! Actually you know what, I’ll grab it for you. You just wait here and I’ll be back soon,” he said with a big smile on his face. It seemed very contradicting to his pushy behaviour.

You started to get annoyed. “Please, it’s fine. I was just about to leave anyway,” you lied.

The young man still pushed. You found it quite pathetic really. Was he really that desperate?

Before you could even say anything else, you suddenly saw the man fly sideways and land in the pool. Your mouth fell open in shock and you watched as he came back to the surface gasping for air. “What the fuck? Who was that?!” he yelled out frustratingly. Everyone around the pool had gone silent to see what the commotion was.

You looked back to the side of the pool to see none other than Niragi himself who had a proud smile on his face. “It was me you little bitch.” The young man’s eyes widened in fear.

“Are you sure you want to go flirting around with a militant’s woman? You might just be looking to get your head blown off!” Niragi cackled psychotically. “Go find your own toy to play with.”

Niragi aimed his rifle towards the man and everyone surrounding the pool panicked and ducked down. The man screamed in fear and started yelling to do anything that might spare his life.

“My deepest apologies Niragi! I didn’t know she was with you! I promise I’ll stay away from her from now on!”

You felt somewhat belittled. How dare he apologize to Niragi but not you. You were the one that got harassed.

Niragi let out a giggle and pulled the trigger of his rifle. The deafening sound rang in your ears and you watched as the bullet narrowly missed the young man’s head by an inch, creating a splash in the water next to him.

Niragi kneeled down with an evil smile on his face and harshly gripped the boy by his hair to lift him closer to his face. “If you ever touch her again, I won’t hesitate to put multiple bullets between those annoying ass eyes of yours. You understand?” He growled.

“Yes! I understand sir! I promise!” the boy cried desperately.

Niragi let go of his hair and watched as he swam to the left of him to scramble out of the pool and sprint away from him towards the dance floor. Probably to hide among other people so if Niragi changed his mind about sparing him he would be harder to find.

You breathed heavily in shock, not believing what you just witnessed.

“What the fuck was that?!” you yelled at Niragi. He looked down at you with an emotionless expression.

“Huh?”

“That was so over dramatic! Niragi I don’t know if you know this, but we’re not together! We’re not even friends! You can’t go around threatening anyone who lays eyes on me!”

Niragi rolled his eyes and kneeled down to get closer to your face. “Look, that idiotic boy was just trying to get into your pants. He didn’t want anything else from you. I just did you a favor, you should be thanking me!” he exclaimed.

You furrowed your eyebrows in annoyance. “I was very aware of that fact Niragi, but I had it under control!”

“Did you really Y/N? Because from the way you were shaking it didn’t seem like you did.”

You stared into his deep, evil eyes. For once, you actually felt small underneath his gaze.

“Whatever, I’m going back to my room.” You stood up from your position and scurried away from the scene. As much as you hated to admit it, you were partly grateful to Niragi from saving you from that situation. You would never admit it to him though. You just wish he didn’t do it with so much aggression.

“Would you like me to walk you back-”

“Niragi! Fuck off!”

Author’s Note: Sorry this one took a while anon. I really hope it’s what you wanted!

[lubdubsworld]

Change of Heart ( Taehyung ) ( Complete.

Chapter 1   Chapter 2    Chapter 3     Chapter 4     Chapter 5   Chapter 6  Chapter 7   Chapter 8    Chapter 9

Summary : Times are changing. After years of being oppressed, werewolves are taking a stand against humans , demanding equal rights and fair treatment. Heading the movement is Kim Taehyung, the breathtaking heir to the Kim fortune and one of the few remaining Alpha werewolves in the country. His disdain for the human race is well known and well warranted. They killed his family after all….. He wants to change the world , to put humans in their place but when his five year old daughter takes a shine to their very human neighbor , maybe he has to start with a change of heart , first.

: Pairing : Taehyung x OC / Werewolf AU!!

Genre : Romance, Explicit Content

Chapter 10

“Baby....you up?” Taehyung sleep heavy voice against my ear made me stir, blinking groggily as I tried to make sense of where I was. The window was still dark and I groaned. 

“What time is it?” I whispered and I felt the press of his lips against my shoulder, gentle and wet. 

“It’s a little past five in the morning.”

I whined in disbelief.

“Why would you wake me up so early?” 

I could barely see him in the darkness and I felt my breath catch when he moved to straddle my hips, hovering over me before grabbing the back of my thighs, spreading my legs apart and leaning down till the head of his cock pressed right up against my entrance. I felt myself clenching in anticipation and my body thrummed with the need to be filled, although I was still so sore from last night. 

“I’m sorry.... I need to head out but i wanted to...” Taehyung whispered, and I moaned when he kissed me  lightly, groaning when he slid right in, cleaving a way inside me, my walls pulsing around the hard length of. I flinched, the dull ache of it making me whimper a little and it took some effort to ground myself, to relax and not seize up against the intrusion. I could feel my heartrate speeding up, the last vestiges of sleep fading into the air. 

Taehyung, pressed gentle fingers to my waist, stroking my skin before running them up my torso, soft little touches to my ribs and up to my breasts, cupping the warm weight of them before rubbing his thumb over the tip till my nipples hardened. 

“So pretty...like this...” He whispered, pulling out and pushing back in and the movement jarred my insides , drawing a pout onto my lips. 

“you’re too big..” I complained and he responded by moving his hands to my knees, gripping the back of them and drawing them up and apart till I choked, spreading me so wide that my thighs screamed in protest, and he laughed at the look on my face .

“We should join a yoga class or something. Your flexibility is atrocious.” He commented mildly and I gasped, affronted. 

“What on earth-” He cut me off with a kiss, before grabbing my ankle and throwing my leg over his shoulder and pressing in closer, his cock sliding in even deeper. I choked out, laughing in sheer disbelief because I wasn’t made to bend like that. Nobody was. I was sure of it. 

“You’ll get used to it...” Taehyung laughed, “ Get used to me... Get used to my kisses and of course get used to my fat cock in you every damn night. ” he growled and the filthy words made me clench down on him, so hard that i almost cramped up. 

He kissed me slowly and I wrapped one arm around his neck, trying to breathe through the stretch of him fucking into me, each push and pull abrasive but amazing. . 

I stared at his beautiful face, trying to drink in the features, and I felt myself fall deeper, the look of affection in his gaze somehow so much more arousing than the things he was doing to me. And i realized how badly I wanted this...This and him for the rest of my life. 

And in the wake of it came the reminder that +my father was out there. 

A powerful man. 

A dangerous man who wanted Taehyung gone.

“Are you going to be in danger?” I whispered, pressing my palm against his face and he chuckled. He lightly grabbed my wrist and pressed a kiss to my palm before bringing my hand down to his shoulder and kissing me gently. 

“I always am.” He reminded me , lips brushing mine . It was far from reassuring and I gripped his shoulders harder, trying not to let the anxiety take over. 

“But you’ll be safe, right?” I demanded, willing him to look me in the eye and Taehyung gave me a soft smile.

“Would you miss me terribly if I was gone?” He grinned and I felt my entire body go ice cold at the very prospect of it , my lips parting and my mouth going sandpaper dry.  Taehyung’s smile faded at once, his arms tightening around me. 

“Hey...hey... I was just joking...baby. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have joked about that. Rae, I’m going to be fine... Look at me. ” He whispered urgently and I curled my fingers into his shoulders, trying to breathe. 

“Hey...Come on, Rae.. Don’t look so scared. ..” He pressed kisses to my cheeks and I swallowed.

“Don’t underestimate my father. Tae....“ I said hoarsely.” He has so much more to lose than you do. He’s desperate and I don’t want you to be blindsided by anything. “ I whispered. 

He nodded.

“i know. i won’t. Now come on, let me make you feel good, yeah?” He kissed me again and I hugged him. He picked up the pace, thrusting into me faster and I closed my eyes, gripping his waist and hanging on as he sent my senses into overdrive. 

My mind was still too worried to experience any sort of overwhelming pleasure but I liked this. 

Liked having him like this, over me, inside me and wrapped all around me,. 

It meant he was safe. At least for this moment, he was here and he was safe. 

I felt the moment his orgasm hit him, warm wetness spilling into me and I closed my eyes at the sensation, blushing for some reason.

This time i felt him swelling inside me again and I froze, panic starting before I could stop it and he hugged me closer, lips pressing soothing kisses as he stroked my skin, gently soothing. 

“it’s okay baby... You’re mine... You were made for me. it won’t hurt... I promise.” He whispered, holding me closer, and I swallowed, bracing myself . 

“Oh, God, Taehyung... “ I whispered, burying my face into his shoulder as he pressed in a little deeper and he was right. It didn’t hurt, it felt overwhelming, like it was too much and like I was going to absolutely explode but it didn’t hurt. ....

Taehyung trembled a little, as he tried not to move, his knot lodging itself deep inside me, so deep that the smallest movement sent pin pricks of sensation all over my body. It didn’t even feel weird or animalistic anymore I thought , awed. it felt normal. Felt like us. Him and I locked together. Felt natural.  Or maybe the early morning grogginess was making me mellow. Maybe once i had my head on straight, I’d be more terrified. 

He groaned into my shoulders, body going lax on top of me and I choked a little because he was heavy, but there was a dull throbbing pleasure in it, the weight of him grounding me. 

I stared up at the ceiling, stroking the back of his head as he shuddered a little inside me. 

Time seemed endless as he stayed inside me and I felt my eyelids growing heavy, even as I heard his breathing even out.

Wasn’t he supposed to leave? 

But I couldn’t bring myself to wake him up. 

For a few more minutes, I stayed still, watching the windows grow lighter and as the first rays of the morning sun began spilling into the room, I felt sleep take over. 

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

“I won’t be going in at all. The Narcotic department is going to handle the whole thing. You know Namjoon and Seokjin right? They’re the one who’re going to be there and they’re going to make sure things go smoot. I’m going to be safe ...in the comfort of my luxurious office .... “ Taehyung’s voice  sounded completely steady and firm through the phone and i willed myself to trust him. 

Luna sat in my lap, happily sketching on a drawing pad as we sat cross legged in front of the huge French Windows in Jungkook’s apartment. Jungkook himself was in the kitchen, whipping up some milkshakes for us. 

I sighed deeply.

“ Can we come over today then? It ends today right?” I asked urgently. I buried my nose in Luna’s hair and the sweet scent of green apple and strawberries made me melt. She turned around to flash me a wide grin, eyes dancing with happiness. 

Taehyung didn’t respond for a few seconds. When he did, his voice was low and soothing. 

“I’m not sure Rae. These men, they aren’t the kind of people I can take lightly. There are going to be repercussions and I don’t want anything to happen to you or Luna. You’re safe there. Jungkook’s going to stay with you till I come get you and I’ve hired enough men to keep watch. I just need to hang around long enough to make sure we end this cleanly. “

“Okay. I love-”

“Don’t.” He said softly. 

I blinked.

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s the first time I’m hearing you say that. I’d rather hear it in person.” Taehyung said softly. 

I laughed.

“You’re such a sap.”

“Only for you. Now, what is my feral daughter upto?” 

“Luna, Dada wants to talk to you...” I handed the phone over to her and she squealed.

“Hi Daddy....” She said cutely. “ When are you coming home daddy?” 

I couldn’t hear his side of the conversation but the pout on her face told me that she wasn’t pleased.

“But that’s soooo long....”

“I was drawing . RaeRae showed me how to draw a wolf. It looks angry like daddy.”

“No daddy, I’m being a good girl. I ate a bowl of rice and veggies too.” 

“I don’t miss daddy because RaeRae’s here.” 

And then she giggled.

“Of course not daddy...you’re both number one.” 

A sound at the door made me look up and Jungkook held the door in place with his leg, flipping the doorjamb down before carefully carrying the tray of milkshakes in. 

I gently maneuvered Luna off my lap before moving to help him. 

“Smells delicious, Mr. Jeon.” I grinned, taking a sip of the chocolate concoction. “Ooh..that's really good.”

“Its a premade mix I added water to.” Jungkook grinned. I laughed. 

“ Still a great cook !” I turned to watch Luna who was now flat on her back on the rug and going on about how Jungkook had let her borrow his sketching tab. 

“She’s adorable.” He commented with a smile and I hummed.

“When are you heading back to the preserve?” I asked gently and he shrugged.

“Not for a while. Taehyung told me they’re not yet sure how far this whole drug thing has spread. There’s going to be a lot of arrests and protests in the next few weeks. Messing with a wolf’s ability to scent his mate...that’s terrible stuff, Rae. Wolves are gonna be fucking furious. There’s going to be a huge fall out over this and we can only hope it wouldn’t be too violent.” 

I swallowed.

“Do you think I could get my job back, at the preserve?”

Jungkook looked surprised.

“You’re not gonna be with Tae?”

I turned to stare at Luna.

“Of course I’ll be with Tae but.. i love my job. I made a difference there. I’m not going to make a good trophy wife. I want to be able to help people in someway, not just hang around in the backdrop.” I said desperately.

Jungkook looked worried. 

“I’m not sure if Tae will agree to that Rae. You know how he gets about his job. As his wife you’ll have plenty of stuff to do as it is..,....”

“I’m not his wife...” I muttered under my breath, although it was kind of a useless statement.

“ Umm...you know he’s going to ask you to marry him as soon as possible? You’re already wearing his mark. in fact , in our world you’re already married as far as we’re concerned,” Jungkook pointed at my neck and I rubbed the small scar on my shoulder where he’d bitten me. 

“I can still do the things I want to do right? Taehyung isn’t going to lock me up , is he?” I laughed.

Jungkook tilted his head, watching me carefully.

“You don’t know him very well, do you Rae?” He said quietly. 

My heart flipped over in my ribcage at the words and the tone with which he said it. 

“What-What do you mean?:” I asked , nervous. 

Jungkook opened his mouth to respond, only to be interrupted by Luna’s laugh. 

“RaeRae!!! Daddy wants to talk to you!!” Luna came bounding over with the phone held out and I took it from her.

“Tae?”

“I’m going to head in now. We’re going to be coordinating with Seoul PD and they’ll send the guys in around 2 hours. You’re going to  okay right? I’ll call you when it’s over?” 

“Okay, Tae. Stay safe.” I whispered.

“I’ll be just fine. Don’t worry about me. Love you. Both of you. ”

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

Jungkook and i sat on the couch, eyes glued on the TV as the news played out watching the entire country erupt in chaos. 

“Fire broke out today on a popular resort in Jeju Do, owned by  Hotelier Cha Eun Woo..... Interestingly, the resort had been closed for the weekend with minimal staff and only a few VVIP customers . So far there have been reports of nine casualties, all of them guests including billionaire philanthropist Yoon Jae hyun....”

I felt the breath shudder out of me, equal parts relief and disbelief. Taehyung had closed the whole thing down with minimum fanfare and with no one any the wiser. I knew that the eight men were the major distributors in the entirety of Korea, and that with them gone, it would only be a matter of time before the entire racket collapsed. 

“These guys are good.” Jungkook commented mildly and I stared at the screen, fascinated... The whole thing was being written off as an unfortunate tragedy, a gas leak or something.  

A small crowd of people in uniforms stood huddled in a corner and I squinted, grinning when I caught sight of Kim Seokjin’s golden blonde head and Kim Namjoon’s tall figure, dressed like waiters. .

I felt my lips quirk at that. 

The phone rang just then and I exhaled, “ Taehyung...”

“Did I do good?” He whispered. 

I laughed. 

“ I think I know now, why you’re an amazing politician Kim Taehyung ssi. “ I said softly. 

Taehyung chuckled.

“Real life isn’t like the movies baby.... I suppose you were looking forward to some good old fashioned action sequences and a lot of alpha posturing?” He teased. 

I smiled.

“I’m just glad you’re safe. “ I whispered. 

“I’m sending a limo to Jungkook’s place. You should�� come over to my condo.  I have a present for you. Will you come? ” He said gently. 

Curiosity piqued, “ Of course. I’ll be there. What is it?”

Taehyung laughed softly, his voice deep. 

“I think you’ll like it.”

I stared at Jungkook, who could probably hear the conversation.

He had a very odd expression on his face. Part resignation and Part worry. 

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.. I’m just thinking that I’m lucky...”

“Lucky?”

“That I didn’t think about pursuing you. “ 

I laughed. 

“What do you mean?”

“I’m just saying. i wouldn’t want to be on Kim Taehyung’s hit list.” 

I rolled my eyes. 

“Don’t be dramatic.” 

“I’m not. Be careful Rae. He’s a very dangerous man.” Jungkook said quietly, picking up the smaller glass of strawberry milk and lifting Luna up into his arms. i watched him laugh and carry her to the balcony. 

And i wondered what that was about. 

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

“So , what’s the present?” I asked impishly , wrapping my arms around his neck and kissing him soundly. He hugged me close, reciprocating with fervor and I moaned into his mouth. I could kiss him forever.

“Patience , little one. It’s on the way. First , tell me is your brother alright? I’ve been trying to reach him but i can’t.” He sounded worried and i felt warmth bloom in my chest.

“Yuggie’s fine. He left his phone somewhere ...i spoke to him on the way here. He’s upset of course but for now, he’s not going to come anywhere near the family business. My father handed things over to his nephew a few years ago is what I heard. Yuggie’s heading back to the States after the funeral.”

“What’s his name? This nephew...do you know? ” Taehyung asked thoughtfully.

“Kim Ji Hoo. He owns a bunch of casinos across the country. When I was in college i once heard him talk about getting girls from somewhere to my dad. I don’t remember where .... ” I said apologetically. 

“That’s fine angel. Thank you for telling me... I’ll keep an eye on him.” Taehyung said with a smile. 

“So this is it? The drug racket is down??” I asked nervously and he sighed.

“Hardly. We don’t know a lot of things but the Narcs caught a lot of evidence today from these idiots and their laptops and phones. Seokjin and Namjoon are going to head the investigation. We’ll probably not reveal anything to the public until we know the true extent of the operations.”

“Which would be once you get to the local dealers.”

“Yes.... but that is out of my jurisdiction so I’m going to respectfully step away and let them do their job.” He smiled. 

“And the whole sex trade thing in Eun Woo’s hotel..What about that?”

“We rescued the girls earlier. There were seventeen of them, three of them underage.” His voice shook a little. 

“He’s a monster. I’m glad he’s dead.” I whispered. 

A knock on the door made us pull away from each other. 

“Speaking off, your present’s here...” He smiled. 

Grinning , i turned to the door.

And then the smile froze on my face when I saw who it was. 

Seokjin stood framed in the door way, dragging another man in front of him. I couldn’t see who it was because of the black bag over his head. 

“Special delivery for Alpha Kim.” He grinned, shoving the man forward till he crashed to his knees in front of me. Seokjin pulled the bag off . 

“Taehyung.” I froze in disbelief, staring at the familiar man in front of me , on his knees , bloodied and battered, wrists caught in handcuffs and face swollen and gagged..

Cha Eun Woo was almost unrecognizable. 

Taehyung stepped right up behind me wrapping both hands around me in a warm back hug, chin resting on my shoulder as he peered down at the beta wolf. 

“Do you like your present?” He whispered, kissing my neck gently. 

“Taehyung, what is this?” I said , my fingers shaking a little, my skin icy cold because of how cruel Taehyung looked and sounded, talking down to Cha Eun Woo. 

“I thought you’d enjoy a little action, angel... Life get’s boring sometimes if I don’t indulge my wolf once in a while, don’t you think, baby?” 

 “Tae, no.” i said desperately. “ Let him go. please don’t...”

Taehyung hummed. 

“Are you sure baby? You don’t wanna see how us wolves solve things?” 

I shook my head frantically. 

“No.. No I don’t wanna see you kill another man.” I laughed, voice just a little hysterical because why did this even have to be said. When Taehyung said present I was thinking a bottle of champagne and some roses.... not the prospect of cold blooded murder..... . “ Please.,.just... Don’t.” 

Taehyung pulled away from me and moved forward. I stumbled back and away, watching as he reached Eun Woo, hand reaching out to hold the man by his hair, the veins in his hand pulsing from how tight his grip was. 

Eun Woo whimpered, moaning out slurred syllables that were impossible to understand because of the gag in his mouth. 

“Are you sure angel? “ Taehyung pouted, holding one hand out.. I flinched when his claws popped out , three inches long and sharp as razors. 

My throat went dry as he grabbed Eun Woo by the shoulder, claws digging straight in with so much force that blood spurted out .

I whirled around, looking away , pressing my hands to my eyes, a scream forming at the back of my throat threatening to spill out.

Taehyung groaned in disappointment. 

“Fine. I won’t kill him.” He said boredly. “ Seokjin...” 

I turned back around , staring at him. Taehyung looked as he always did , a soft smile playing around his lips, eyes kind and warm ,  his voice even tempered and gentle. 

But the unconscious man at his feet, the pool of blood spreading out over the carpet , the mangled shoulder..... they didn’t fit into the picture. 

And suddenly, I understood just why everyone was afraid of him. 

Seokjin appeared at the door. He glanced at Eun Woo and wrinkled his nose.

“Did the bitch pass out again? i swear to God, my grandmother has a higher tolerance for pain than this fucker...” He glanced at Taehyung.

“Tie things up yeah?” Taehyung said evenly and Seokjin nodded, dragging the prone body away. 

“You look terrified.” Taehyung smiled, moving to the mahogany sideboard and grabbing a bottle of water. i watched as he casually washed his hands , getting rid of the blood. 

“You... Would you have killed him? If I didn’t ask you to stop?”

Taehyung stopped scrubbing under his nails, giving me a look.

“What do you mean?”

“Do you.. do you do this often? Kill people?” I said shrilly. 

Taehyung laughed. 

“You were plenty happy when I killed your father.” He pointed out. 

I swallowed. 

“That’s...That’s different.. He’s... He deserved it...” 

“And Eun Woo doesn’t? Come on , Rae...what he was doing with those girls was filthy.” 

“Yes.. yes but...” i was so confused, my brain refusing to come to terms with the fact that Taehyung, the man i loved, actually killed people. Personally. 

“Anyway... you told me to stop and i stopped. Didn’t kill him, right?” He smiled. 

I nodded. 

“Thank you for letting him live.” I whispered , turning away . I could feel a head ache come on. .

“Oh, i didn’t let him live.... He’s still going to die.” Taehyung said casually. 

I whirled around , gaze clashing with his as my lips parted in surprise. 

“You.. You said you weren’t going to kill him...” I said hoarsely. 

Taehyung blinked at me, looking confused. He grabbed a pure white towel, wiping his wet hands carefully. 

“Yes, I said  I  wouldn’t kill him. Seokjin will.” He said casually. 

My entire body went cold at that, sweat gathering on my hairline because of how scared I suddenly was. 

“Taehyung ...this isn’t... this scares me.” I whispered, taking a step back. 

He laughed at that, moving closer and reaching for me.

“Come now, angel. You know i have to right? Men like Eun Woo don’t change... He’ll find something more vile and awful to do , probably even try to get back at me by trying to hurt you or Luna... i can’t have that can I?”

“So you just...you kill people who get in your way?” I felt like I had been dipped in a vat full of cold water. Taehyung drew me into his arms, hugging me close.

“Only when I am protecting something i value.” He said softly. “ I can’t afford loose ends, Rae. They get tangled together and trip me up. As my wife, i expect you to trust me. Trust that i won’t do anything without reason.” 

“I’m not your wife.” I said dully, feeling just a little overwhelmed.

“Semantics.” He brushed my words off easily, pulling back to rub his fingers across my cheeks.

“I’m being sworn in officially, tomorrow. I want you by my side on the podium. You and our daughter. I know its going to be new to you... My world. But I think you’ll like it. I’m the king there and I want you to be my queen. ” He kissed me gently. 

I stared at him, this man who i loved because of the side of him I had seen so far. The kind, considerate father, the passionate leader and the tenderly sweet lover. 

But then i remembered the cold cruelty with which he had dug his claws into Eun Woo, who was after all a childhood friend of his. Was this the other side of Kim Taehyung’s perfection? Was he also a ruthless , heartless man who would do anything to protect his interests , destroy anyone who got in his way?  

I pulled back an away . 

“Taehyung are we rushing into this? I... do you think we should slow down? Maybe date a little and-”

He didn’t reply, his face unreadable. 

“And where do you intend to live?” He said quietly. “ You don’t have a job.”

“The preserve....”

“....no longer hires humans. The law came through last week.” 

It was like a knife slashed right through my insides. 

“What?” i whispered, confused. 

Taehyung inhaled sharply. 

“We talked about this? There are a lot of qualified weres who don’t have a job, who cannot find work here in the mainland.”

“And what about me? The preserve is the only place where there’s a laboratory studying werewolf microbiology which is kind of what I’ve majored in. I can’t work anywhere else .” I said softly.

Taehyung sighed.

“Baby, hear me out... As my wife, you’ll be heading charities, working with the most intelligent people in the country , running organizations that directly help improve quality of life for underprivileged weres everywhere. It is so much bigger than anything you could accomplish in that tiny laboratory in the island. “

“So, I just move in with you right away?” I asked quietly, already knowing the answer. 

Taehyung gave me that same, maddeningly rational look. 

“The customs department is going to go through your father’s assets... Everything he owned is going to come under scrutiny and I’m sure his wealth is going to dwindle to nothing once they’re through with him. As it is, I know he wrote you out of his will. If you’re going to insist on working some minimum wage job , living in a dilapidated apartment somewhere just because you think, we’re going too fast...” He smiled, “ I’m going to have to put my foot down.” 

And in a moment of startling clarity I just knew exactly what he’d done. 

“You planned this didn’t you? “ I blinked at him. “ It’s surreal, all these pieces falling into place so perfectly..... You knew I would want to  go back to my job in the preserve . That i would never agree to marry you so quickly. Why else would you rush a law like that? “ 

Taehyung didn’t reply. 

“i know how laws are passed Taehyung. You must’ve put quite the pressure on your bosses, to pass such a mundane law so fast...” 

He stared back at me without an ounce of guilt in his gaze. 

“I won’t apologize for wanting my mate by my side.” He said evenly. 

“Will you apologize for being a cunningly manipulative bastard, then ?” 

“you’re over reacting...” He said calmly. 

“Am I, Taehyung?” I said sharply. “ It’s been a week since I found out i was your mate. A week.... And now suddenly, i have your mark on my neck, no possibility of getting my job back and no other option but to cling to you.... I’d say I’m reacting how any woman would react.... You played me like a fiddle and I’ve been dancing to your tune all along. “ 

Taehyung sighed. 

“You make it sound like I’ve done something terrible. “

“ Haven’t you?? “ i demanded. 

“ No, I haven’t. I love you. I care for you deeply and so does my daughter. She needs you as much as i do and she loves you so much. Your own family is almost non existent right now. your brother is three thousand miles away and I am here offering you my love, my home and the chance to be a part of my family. Tell me what are you losing out on? Tell me what it is I’ve taken away from you?” 

 My choice,  I thought with clarity. You’ve taken away my right to make that choice. 

 He held my face gently, thumbs brushing across my cheeks. 

“I know you’re frightened. But trust me. I’m going to be here by your side. Eun Woo dies today, not because of those girls he destroyed but because of  you. Because he dared touch you , knowing you were mine . Tomorrow the whole country will know it and no one will dare to even breath wrong in your direction. Because they know what your mate is capable of.” 

He pressed a kiss to my forehead and I let him hug me, staring over his back at the opposite wall. 

The painting on the wall caught my eye. 

A beautiful, dainty gazelle, cornered against the edge of a huge cliff,  staring down the barrel of a hunter’s gun. And on her side, a big beautiful wolf , gorgeous and tempting as it seemed to call for her. And it was obvious that in her panic , she was going to run into the arms of the wolf. 

Not knowing that the wolf was just as dangerous, just as deadly as the hunter and the cliff edge. 

I closed my eyes hugging him tight. 

I was so tired. 

“Tell me you’ll marry me. “ Taehyung’s hypnotic voice wove its spell over me, soft and soothing and filled with all the reassurances a naïve young girl would ever need.  

I took a deep breath, trembling in his arms when i exhaled. 

And then I replied. 

The End 

~~~~~~~~

Author’s note : Tell me how much you hate me. 

Taehyung isn’t a saint wbk. So of course there’s going to be a sequel.

Soon. Hopefully. 

Taglist : @veronawrites

@ladyartemesia

@bumb1e-bee

@jeonlovescoffee

@bonyg

@unicornbabylover

[angelguk]

so much happens in this it’s such a huge mess omg. the return of the angst plot line of jock!jk (aka pretty boy universe please check ml for the other parts). this time featuring: Angst (with a capital A), miscommunication that makes you want to scream, chayoung’s true nature, namjoon catching stray bullets (figuratively), and lucas being a gem. also jungkook is somewhat semi-violent in this one (in terms of thoughts and some actions but no one gets hurt) so please don’t read this if that makes you uncomfortable. in general just an angry heartbroken boy. also oc is finally doing something good. listen to mess it up by gracie abrams + if we were made of water by banks + i will by mitksi + save room for us by tinashe. roughly 4.2k

titled — old friends, new foes

The spring scavenger hunt is an enormous success, all thanks to your careful planning and Bina’s much needed support. While you excelled at organising, you heavily lacked in the social aspect, something Bina fulfilled with smart marketing and a bright personality that drew in a larger crowd than you thought would appear. It's partially expected–she was head of the Events Committee for a reason–but it felt a little strange to lean onto her instead of Jeongguk. He was the one who usually spearheaded that side of your event plans, more than anyone else, and while planning this one you felt his absence tenfold. Like a gigantic gaping hole excavating through your chest and leaving behind a lonely hollow.

That hollowness surges when you spot him meandering towards the third location at the university courtyard, his fingers tangled with Hyeri’s. You slowly turn away from them, heart aching with each thud against your ribs, hoping they haven’t seen you. Maybe Bina sees the fall on your features because she’s gently tapping your arm, leaning in with a graceful brush of her amber locks over her shoulder.  

“Are you okay?” Her voice is soft, feathering through the late afternoon breeze to reach your ear. 

You’re about to say it, the pained ‘I’m fine' that had become a part of your routine. But then you hear him, loud effervescent laugh hitting the air, the sound striking your false demeanour down. Your vision blurs before you could choke the word out and suddenly Bina’s arm is firmly around you, guiding your heavy feet far away from the presence evoking your pain. 

“I’m fine,” you finally manage to choke up, folding into yourself in the middle of a bench. She stares at you for a moment, before taking a deep breath and sharply clicking her tongue.

“You’re not.” Her eyes are gentle despite the harshness of her words. “I know this isn’t my place, but I do know why you stopped coming to committee meetings.” 

The scoff you let out is instinctive. The jarring sound is a stark contrast to the action of your hand hurriedly wiping away the stray tears staining your cheeks. Of course, you’d avoided committee meetings – why the hell would you go when the president was your ex?

“And,” Bina continues, pointedly ignoring your reaction. Her hand reaches out moving to intertwine your fingers. You focus on the image of her sharp stiletto shaped nails that glitter under the glow of the sun settling on your lap instead of the thumping of your heart as she speaks. “Judging from what I’ve seen, it hasn’t been easy for him either. I know you’re probably thinking that you were the only one who cared about him–about your relationship, but I’m pretty sure he did too. So it’s perfectly okay for you to feel like this, no matter how long it’s been.”

Two months and three weeks, you mentally add. A lifetime and a single blink simultaneously. 

“I didn’t need to know that,” you say, hoping to kill the hope fluttering in your heart. Bina squeezes your hand instead and gives it wings.

“You did. Also, Jeongguk’s kind of an asshole. Sorry if it’s too soon.”

It’s not, and you can’t help the tiny laugh that escapes from your throat. You glance up at her then, suddenly glad for the dazzling glossed coated smile that greets you.

“But,” she continues. “You’re doing the wrong thing too. I know you’re dating Lucas and it’s not fair to him when you’re still hung up on Jeongguk.”

“I know,” you admit. “And I’m going to fix that.”

She beams. “I hope you do. Don’t let him make you pick the wrong choices. You deserve better than that.”

Perhaps it was her words of reassurance that aided in getting you out of the house tonight. (Or it was Bina gingerly whacking your arm and insisting you needed to reward yourself for working hard). But a minuscule part of you is glad you heeded her advice. The music is louder than the words bouncing around your head, sound shoving your sorrow down as Chayoung hands you another drink. Everything is fast, bodies shifting wildly around you and the faint sound of a beer pong game capturing everyone’s attention. For a moment, you begin to forget. But then Lucas’s looming head materializes before you and guilt swarms your heart.

“Hey,” he offers, deep timbre sinking into your bones. You might just throw up.

You haven’t told him about Namjoon. You can’t bear to. But there’s something else more urgent that you need to say to him first.

Chayoung watches through narrow eyes when he leans forward to brush a light kiss on your cheek. He’s so sweet it makes your mouth turn sour. 

“Haven’t seen you around,” Lucas continues, slipping beside you. A steady hand settles at the base of your back. You almost jolt away. 

Chayoung’s face is hard, expression carved out of marble as she stares you down. You know she’s mad at you, rightfully so. Even Sieun hadn’t said anything for a few days after you’d told them about Namjoon. You were mad at yourself too. For what you did–for what you need to do to fix it.

“Been busy. Planning the scavenger hunt and all,” you say, gaze glued to a random lamp at the opposite side of the room. It’s easier than staring at Lucas, who’s still so warm and bright. Practically glowing like he’s got the Sun living in his chest. 

You hope you don’t leave him cloudy.

He weaves his hand into yours, a pleasant noise escaping past his lips. “I know. Great job, by the way. You should be proud.”

Chayoung slinks away at that, the glower on her features burning your blood. You haven’t told anybody yet because you don’t want their advice on this. But you do need to end things with Lucas. It wasn’t fair to him. Yet, it feels nearly impossible when you tear your eyes off the fading figure of your friend and glance up to find him staring at you with the softest smile.

All you do is hurt good people. 

It’s a terrible realisation but it forces you to croak out the words, a rip forming inside of you when that soft smile slips off his face at the sound of them.

“We need to talk.”

But the second they are out you feel something in the world click into place like you’re finally making the right steps toward the correct path even though you need to step on the hearts of others to get there. 

Lucas lets you lead him in silence, the weight of it sinking onto your shoulders when he closes the door behind him, the music giving way to the noise in your head. When he turns to face you, watching apprehensively as you perch yourself at the edge of the bed in the room, it all begins to feel like deja vu. Except you’re on the other side.

“So,” you start, eyes on the wall. The feeling of the mattress dipping as Lucas descends beside you pulls your gaze back to him, heartstrings thrumming when the moonlight leaking through the opened curtains pools into his eyes.

How could Jeongguk have done this?

“We need to end this,” you say, realising as the air leaves your lungs that he did it like this. Like he needed to breath. It feels like cutting an anchor off your ankle, head breaking through furious waters to finally find air.

Lucas pauses, blinking slow. You don’t fill the emptiness with more words, afraid you’ll pour salt into an open wound. He lets what you said ruminate, eyes shifting to the scene around you. A random room, bathed by the glow of the room, and two hearts opposing each other–one already poised to leave. One that was never really there.

“Why?” It’s said lowly. You know why. You owe him this admission, after dragging him around on a sinking ship. But the words refuse to part from your throat. 

“I’m not right for you,” you say instead, hoping he understands. By the flicker across his eyes, he doesn’t. “Like,” you try, your eyes dropping to where his heart lies. “You’ve got a lot of good in you and I don’t. We don’t match.”

Lucas cocks his head, staring at the ceiling. And this his gaze careens to you.

“You don’t think you’re a good person?”

“Well–” you splutter. But Lucas isn’t having it.

“You’re a lovely person, Y/N. With a lot of good in you too. You are kind of shitty for this though but every good person does shitty things.” It’s said factually like he needs you to understand this.

“I know that–”

“You don’t. You put yourself down too much. Why do you think Jeongguk loved you?”

Oh. That seizes that air from your chest, Lucas’s gaze slamming into your own with a surety that stings. 

“Why do you think I like you?” He adds. You don’t know what to do, nervous system spazzing at this information assault. “And I know why you want to end this. You could have said it. I understand, though. The two of you did fight together so well.” He gets up then, towering like a God dictating judgment. “I didn’t expect you to stop loving him immediately, you know.” He’s near the door now, not fleeing but parting a new path. There’s a weird smile on his lips, like the forging of his steps hurts as much yours does. It’s like it’s been hung there, not pulled from his heart like you’d grown used to seeing. 

“What did you expect?” You can’t help but ask.

He pauses, the door half-open. You could tell him to shut it, you could tell him to stay. 

You don’t want to.

“That maybe one day you would love me more than you loved him,” Lucas whispers. He sees the fall on your features, knows the answer on your lips instantly. “But it’s okay that you never could.”

And then he’s gone, honey blonde hair swallowed by the crowd even with his impossible height. He leaves the door ajar, the music seeping into the room. But this time your head is louder, surer. Because Lucas just let you know something you weren’t even aware of yourself. There was no room for anybody else except Jeongguk. And it truly wasn’t fair to offer him your heart when it was half a world away.

—

Half a world away is apparently glaring at the shrubs flanking the back garden. Jeongguk doesn’t know who’s house this is. He doesn’t care either because at the moment he’s considering burning it down. He’d just seen you amble into a room, Lucas trailing behind like a stupid dog and his heart clenching hard in his chest. It took two seconds after the door shut for him to shove Hyeri off his lap and mumble something about needing air.

(What he needed was you).

The coolness of the night ebbed at his boiling blood, but nothing could ease the ache. 

“You look like you need a drink,” Chayoung’s voice feels alien, creeping up his back. He turns to look at her, a polite comment on how he’d like to be left alone hanging on his lips. She interrupts it by handing him a cup, a tender smile gracing her lips. Jeongguk accepts it with a shrug, hoping the burn in his throat will be a distraction. It isn’t. But he forces another sip down as Chayoung slithers outside too, the room behind her glowing as if the building was on fire.

What store sells matches and lighter fluid in the middle of the night? And won’t ask incriminating questions? 

“Why the long face?” She asks, peering at him from the corner of her eye.

Jeongguk shrugs, the words in his head refusing to form into understandable sounds.

“Hyeri not cutting it?” Chayoung murmurs. His eyes snap to her, but she’s not staring at him, her gaze fixed on the dark sky. 

“What do you mean?” Jeongguk is baffled say the least. He thought his act with Hyeri was a little bit more solid proof. He liked her–somewhat. 

Chayoung turns slow, almost sinisterly, a glint in her brown eyes that unsettles him. “I just don’t think she’s in your league.”

The scoff that leaves Jeongguk’s throat burns. He hated that stupid idea of leagues. You should like a person for who they are, not where they stand in foolish social hierarchies. But Chayoung reads his response wrong, suddenly impossibly close, a stray finger trailing along his shoulder. Her nails are talons. He shudders, trying to hide it by leaning away. Chayoung just leans closer, alcohol tainted breath grazing his own. For a moment, Jeongguk considers fleeing back inside to come ask you to collect your drunk friend (a perfect excuse to finally say something to you after months of radio silence) but then he remembers that might potentially end with him walking into the room and finding you with Lucas’s tongue down your throat.

And that would suck. A lot.

But before he can think of another solution Chayoung’s fingernails are scrapping his neck, leaving his skin prickled.

“But then again, do you seem to always pick the wrong ones.” That bristles him and his eyes are suddenly hard and narrow.

“What do you mean by that?” He spits it out, a spark igniting in his chest when Chayoung shrugs. The smile on her face disgusts him.

“You know what I mean.” Her finger is sliding down his shirt and Jeongguk feels branded even through the material. “When you look like this, running around girls like that is honestly a little sad.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” He’s hoping he’s hearing this all wrong. That she’s just drunk and acting stupid. But when her eyes lift to him he knows she means it. Every word of it.

“You could do better, Jeongguk. So much better.”

“Chayoung you need to shut the fuc–”

Her lips taste like vodka and cherry lip balm, which is sickening because that’s what you taste like–sans the vodka. Cherry lip balm was your brand. It always was, you’ve got like five of them scattered around your room and a couple more hidden in Jeongguk’s. He recoils instantly, acid climbing up his throat as his hands find something–anything to push away. What he finds are Chayoung’s shoulders and when he pushes he pushes hard. They break apart and the floor beneath Jeongguk cracks wide open, his head spinning violently.

“What the fuck is your problem?” He doesn’t know what else to say, the circuits in his brain frying. Chayoung’s tongue skips over her lips, now wet and a little plush from the force she used to slam her mouth into his. 

“Showing you that you can do better.”

He blinks, taken a large step back when Chayoung moves forward, a little sway in her feet. 

“You’re drunk and acting crazy. I think I should call Y/N to com–”

“Oh fuck Y/N. Such a whiny bitch. Do you really think she deserves you? After all the shit she’s put you through?” Chayoung’s eyes feel like knives, sharp and striking deep with every word. 

“Aren't you her friend? What the hell is wrong with you?” Jeongguk needs this to de-escalate. Chayoung wants to throw gasoline on an open flame instead.

“No–what’s wrong with you, Jeongguk? Moping around for a girl who never realised what she had when it was right in front of her? C’mon now.”

“You seriously need to shut the fuck up. You’re not gonna talk about her like that in front of me.”

“Why not? Cause you still love her? Even when she’s fucking Lucas?”

That stings, his heart bursting in his chest because Jeongguk didn’t know you were sleeping with him. He thought it would just be kisses or something. Not that–not Lucas touching you like he used to. But then Hyeri’s face flashes in before his eyes and he wilts. He can’t blame you for anything, not when he’s been doing the same horrible shit to you. And that makes him pause, the sudden realisation that he’s been hurting you smashing into his head. He didn’t want to hurt you–never. Not even if you were hurting him. He just needed a distraction, something to ease you off his mind. And maybe you did too, but all left you both with was gaping wounds that would never heal. And with other people hurt too.

God, this was a mess. And it dawns on Jeongguk that’s he’s made the worst mistake he’s ever made in his life. 

“You should hate her,” Chayoung continues, venomous. 

“I don’t,” Jeongguk returns, voice levelled. All he hates right now is himself. And Lucas (which is fair). Chayoung blanches, shaken by his firmness. “I really don’t, in fact, I need to talk to her. Right now.”

He moves fast, foot already past the threshold when Chayoung speaks again, her words aimed with intent to kill.

“She kissed Namjoon.”

He feels the nerves in his legs still instantly, before they nearly give way entirely, his grip on the door frame the only thing holding him up as his heart tears out of his chest. 

“I thought you should know,” Chayoung adds. And he hears it then, that vile smugness in her voice. She’s lying. She has to be. You wouldn’t do that to him. And he says that, storming back to Chayoung with his chest ripped open, his body thrumming with barely concealed rage. And fear. Jeongguk feels so scared right now because if you did that means everything he felt–everything he feared–could be true.

“She did.” Chayoung is immovable, standing tall and staring him down. “I’m not lying to you. Go ask Namjoon if you don’t believe me.”

Which, Jeongguk realises as his eyes fall shut that is going to absolutely do. And possibly break a nose in the process. He turns, trying to blink away the blurriness in his eyes, before Chayoung stops him with a single sentence again, this one said a little softer.

“Jeongguk,” she starts, eyeing him down, her brown eyes aflame under the moonlight. “I mean it when I say she doesn’t deserve you.”

—

Someone is attempting to break down Namjoon’s door. Which is bizarre considering it’s almost three in the morning. He has to drag himself out of the comfort of his warm sheets to figure out which maniac is attempting to smash through solid wood with only their fists because it seems like they’re almost succeeding. 

The maniac in question is Jeon Jeongguk, standing rigid when Namjoon swings the door open, moonlight bleeding over his features. He’s mad, staring at Namjoon like he wished his head was rolling on the ground instead of stationed square on his shoulders. But there’s something else there, doe eyes glossy.

“Jeongguk? What the hell are–”

“You kissed her.”

Everything stills, the two men fixated on each other. Jeongguk is so still he could have been mistaken for a statue. Almost as if he was waiting for the words that would break this moment, ease the tension seizing his muscles, tell him what he wants to hear. Namjoon can’t do any of that. Instead, he sighs, a muted, “Oh”, floating from his lips.

Jeongguk snaps the second he realises it’s true.

“Oh? You kissed her and all you have to say is oh?” Hands are digging into the soft cotton of his nightshirt and Namjoon’s feet are no longer on the ground. He’s apparently levitating, lifted solely by this hurt angry boy invading his apartment. His back hits the nearest wall with a thud that vibrates through his bones. When the hell did Jeongguk get this strong?”

“Whoa–relax,” Namjoon wheezes, his strong fingers guiding Jeongguk off him. But heartbreak tends to be enough fuel because Jeongguk pushes back with an ease that unnerves him. “Jeongguk, you seriously need to relax. Let go of me and we can talk about this.”

“Why did you do it?” That is what he gets in return. Jeongguk’s voice wavers, coloured a violent red in the velvet of the night.

“I didn’t do anything,” Namjoon returns, the words delivered gingerly.

“No–no you did. You kissed her. You–”

“She kissed me, Jeongguk. And I can seriously explain all of it if you just relaxed and we talked about it–”

“No, she didn’t. She wouldn’t do that to me–she wouldn’t.” And Oh God No, Namjoon thinks he just heard the sound of a heart breaking. It sounds like a weird mangled bird collapsing from the sky and its wing hitting the ground with a funny wet smash, fragile bones snapping like twigs. 

Jeongguk’s fingers peel from his shirt and bury themselves in his hair, yanking at the cropped strands as his face twists. 

This is far too much emotion for a single person to deal with in the middle of the bloody night.

“Hey–hey, calm down. It was a mistake, I promise you. She was just feeling a little all over the place and made a bad choice–”

“No–that’s the fucking point! She made a choice. She chose you.” Jeongguk’s staring at him in a way that hurts, like he’s attempting to transfer all the pain that’s writhing through his body into Namjoon’s from sight alone.

“What? What are you talking about?” 

Jeongguk is frantic, almost like he’s trying to stop himself from pouring out onto the floor. A flood barely contained. “She chose you first. I was there–I was always there. But then you waltzed in and she saw something in you that she didn’t find in me and she chose you.”

Namjoon cocks his head, staring hard at Jeongguk’s round wide eyes, slowly coming to realisations that he was surrounded by idiotic people.

“I still have no idea what you are talking about, but I have to ask, don’t you remember a single thing I told you the last time we spoke about Y/N? You’re the reason we broke up.” That halts him and Namjoon takes that as a moment to press onward, somewhat tired of being dragged into this awkward mess. “And I’ll say this in the nicest way possible but you’re an idiot if you think Y/N wouldn’t pick you over me any day–over anyone really. I could be drowning and you could have a scrapped knee and she’d check on you first. We broke up because I realised I was just a placeholder until she felt brave enough to tell you she liked you. You were rather intimidating for her to approach. Or have you forgotten your track record of girls? It wasn’t easy for her–especially when she was risking losing her best friend.”

The silence that follows aches, Jeongguk’s eyes flashing like he never considered that in the first place. 

“But why the other guys then? Why not just tell me after you?” 

Namjoon’s going to bang his head into the wall. “You’re her best friend–what about that are you not getting? What if you didn’t like her back and it ruined the most important relationship in her life?”

“But I did–I always liked her.”

“No,” Namjoon nearly groans out loud. “You didn’t. If you liked her you wouldn’t have fucked Chaerin in the back of your car and then gone to report it to Y/N with a grin on your face.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” Namjoon returns. “Oh. That’s the exact day we broke up too. Such a stupid fight because she was crying and that’s when I put two and two together and realised I was never going to take precedence over you.” 

“I didn’t know I was hurting her,” Jeongguk murmurs, almost distraught. 

A strangled noise erupts from Namjoon’s throat. “You’ve hurt her a lot more than you’ll realise.” But the second he says that and Jeongguk’s face twists into something unrecognisable he wants to take them back.

“She’s too good for me. Maybe we are better off apart.”

“No, no. You’re so wrong actually. This break-up thing has been miserable to watch and I’m not even in the centre of it. I’ve just caught a bunch of stray bullets.”

“You’re not getting me,” Jeongguk’s eyes swing to him. “She came to you at the end of it all. Maybe we are better with other people. Maybe you’re better for her.”

“She came to me because she missed you. She just needed someone to lean on during your absence. I wouldn’t have to do that if you were there. You know, you should just talk about this with Y/N.”

“I can’t, she’s happy with Lucas. I think.”

Namjoon wants to bang both your heads together so bad. Maybe finally the fact that you love each other would get through your thick skulls then. 

“She doesn’t,” he says, instead. “And I know that for a fact. You should really go talk to her. Figure this whole mess out. And also finally get out of my apartment.” Jeongguk’s gaze withers. Namjoon shrugs in return. “It’s the middle of the night and I have a meeting in the morning. I really need to sleep.”

“Oh, fuck, I’m sorry.” He’s so meek like this, nursing a shattered heart and a confused head. It’s slightly jarring to the image he usually presents, so self-assured and unfazed by whatever gets thrown at him. Never exposed like this, every emotion he holds inside displayed across his face. 

“It’s alright. Just think about what I said and talk to her. Honestly. Not skirting over shit like the two of you tend to do. Okay?”

“Yeah,” he says, trailing towards the open door. Namjoon had registered a breeze billowing in, but he’d completely missed the fact that the door of his apartment was swung wide open. Jeongguk abruptly stops just as Namjoon’s sense of bearing returns, turning to face him with his face pulled down by shame. “I’m really sorry. For this whole thing. I shouldn’t have grabbed you like that I was just–”

“I get it. You love her and it feels like she’s slipping from your fingers. Just don’t do that shit again and stop trying to push her away. I’ll say it again–you were always her first choice.” He sees it then, a slight flutter through Jeongguk’s chest. A broken bird mending. 

“Yeah,” Jeongguk breathes. “Thanks.”

Namjoon sighs, offering a tight smile and shutting the door firmly when Jeongguk finally drifts out. He needs a drink before he hits the sheets again. A strong one.

[colossal-fallout]

Ad Victoriam

Finally got off my ass and started the fic I've been wanting to do for weeks. Maybe months? I'll be doing it chapter by chapter and eventually putting it up on Ao3.

I've made it GN as I want sole to be as relatable to you or your OC as possible.

Chapter I - warnings: None.

Chapter I

Arrival of the mechanical birds

The tangerine sunset always looked gorgeous from the Castle; the sparkling glimmers skipping over the restless sea, making it appear crisp and clean – disguising the usual sickly green hue of the salted waves. But the Minutemen weren’t able to take a moment to take in the beautiful daily view they were blessed with. The usual peaceful bliss they felt in their fortress this time of day was today filled with unease, anxiety and even a little fear among the less informed.

“General. Here they come.” Preston’s familiar voice muttered from close behind his leader.

The familiar tone that seemed a lot more welcome than usual. Preston had always been a great guide to Y/N, and more-so a great friend. And as their heart fluttered at the sight of the vertibirds in the distance, heading towards the ancient garrison, his voice helped hold the glue of their stoic expression as their men and women gathered outside of the main gate to greet the guests for the evening. Preston Garvey was their pillar of strength. Always there when they needed an extra pair of shoulders to unload some weight upon. And of course, the favour was always returned.

A chilled breeze whipped around the small gathering, all eyes up towards the old Boston airport across the shimmering sea – the giant, metal, killing machines looking a lot smaller than they were in reality as they made their journey.

Five. They think to themselves, arms behind their back. They would never allow themselves to show fear in front of their soldiers. Five of them. Why would he need five?

Their trust in Elder Maxson had recently begun to dwindle, due to a few reasons. Reasons they'd went over in the confines of their room over and over again. Planning every move for as many scenarios they could possibly think of. If this were a trap – they would be ready.

A whiff of cigarette smoke filled their nostrils, the disgust of the scent still not faltering their spine of steel stance as the ebony sheen of the metal birds grew bigger by the second.

“So, what’s the deal with this guy?” Hancock asks as he inhales his hit of nicotine, gold plated flip-lighter being tucked back into his crimson pocket with an equally coral colored hand. “How much time have you spent with him? What’s his vibe?”

“I’ve spent a decent amount with him.” They reply, eyes blinking but not moving from the airport. “I’ve worked under him for a while now. He trusts me.”

“But, do you trust him?” He gestures with his hand, pointing the smouldering end of his white stick towards the incoming cavalry. “Because I don’t think many here do.” His voice was lowered so only they and Preston could hear him. Hancock is smart. He read the situation pretty well.

“We’ll see.” Their tone is soft, quiet. Their mind ticking.

Preston glances between his General and the Ghoul. “Whatever the case, it’s too late to be speculating that now. I’m sure the General has thought of every possible outcome. After all, they didn’t bring us this far by throwing caution to the wind.”

Their perfect lips part slightly in a small laugh. “That’s exactly how I got us here.”

“Okay... bad example.” He shrugs, head dipping to the right as if shaking off unwanted information. “But... whatever you did, it’s working. So, I trust your judgment.”

“I don’t.” A third voice chimes in quietly, a lilt of light-heartedness in the tone. “They once dragged me to a museum saying it would be fun. ...Tha---t place had a Deathclaw nesting inside.”

MacCready held out his hand to Hancock without even setting eyes upon him. “But, they did get us out alive, I'll give them that.”

Hancock’s beady black eyes roll as he sinks his hand into the inside of his coat, pulling out his box of cigarettes'. “You know, a ‘please’ and ‘thank you’ one of these days would be appreciated.”

“Well, I didn’t ask to be dragged to some old witchcraft creep-fest. So why would I say please and thanks?”

Hancock let’s out a gruff sigh of exasperation as he tucks his cardboard back inside. “Know what? No. No cigarette for you.”

MacCready’s broken nose crinkles. “What? Aw, c’mon! Was it something I said?”

The vertibirds were audible now; the droning hums that once filled the General with pride as they fought alongside their brothers and sisters, now transmuting into a strange dread.

“What the hell does he want?” Mac isn’t as good at hiding his unease as the rest of them, getting visibly agitated. “You know, I could take him out from the wall.”

“And have twelve to fifteen angry men in power Armour charge at us? Use your damn brain.” Preston scolds.

“I’m still a Paladin.” Y/N reminds them. “He’s still my Elder.”

“But, you’re a minuteman first, right?” Preston asks, large brown eyes pouring with his usual adorable innocence.

He’s answered with a single nod as the ground begins to vibrate; the five choppers now close enough to push Hancock to slap his hand over his hat to prevent it flying away; the strong gust of wind blowing the end of his cig off from the rest of the stick.

The landing gear deploys, a mechanical groan emitting from the machines as the engines switch off, all five of them landing in a small semi-circle around the group of gawping minutemen and their leaders.

The ground shakes as large and loud booms emit from the BoS soldiers leaping onto the soil in their robot-like suits; their faceless helmets instantly snapping to look at the group they’ve been ordered to greet.

“Paladin.” One nods to Y/N through his speaker.

They weren't sure who it was but it didn’t matter. From his armour, they knew his rank.

“Knight.” Was their reply with a curt nod as the Elder himself dismounts his personal ride; all eyes instantly gluing themselves to his stiff and proud form.

A Paladin followed – unknown identity thanks to his power armour.

“Ah Paladin.” Maxson’s authoritive voice greets as he makes his way up to the awestruck group – his eyes not once leaving Y/N's form. “I’m glad you agreed to this meeting. From what I hear, you’ve been making positive waves across the Commonwealth. I wanted to see what my underling was doing for myself. And even offer our assistance at ridding the filth that infests us.”

Underling. A power move already? They think as they remain stone-faced, falling into the salute of the Brotherhood.  “Elder. It’s an honour to have you at the Castle.”

Preston frowns at their words – gloved hands gripping his laser rifle a little tighter than intended.

“Like wise.” He returns the salute, his eyes looking... well, they couldn’t quite place their finger on it. It was a look they'd never seen from him before, yet still seemed like a familiar expression. At least from his tone, he seemed pleased. “My men here will remain outside. Only Paladin Danse will be accompanying me. I don’t want to... impose.”

“Danse?” Y/N blinks at the Paladin behind Maxson.

“L/N.” He replies with a nod.

“Ah yes. I thought it would be fitting to bring your sponsor along with us. You seem to work great together on the field.” Maxson smirks – y/n knew that was his usual smile. You’d never catch the Elder in a full-blown beam of happiness.

Y/N felt a lot better for a moment that Danse was with them. Then it came crashing down when they realised that man would run into hell for his Elder. Support from him if things went wrong probably wasn't on the cards.

“Okay, well then... shall we?” Y/N gestures towards the Castle that was now quickly falling into the shadow of twilight.

Maxon nods before turning to his small army. “Remember, we are guests here. On your best behaviour soldiers.”

A unison, robotic chant of “Yes sir!” chimed through the air before Maxson turned back to follow the General.

“It seems we have a lot to talk about.” He comments as they begin their stride.

Something in the way he said that fuelled the sense of dread that brewed deep within Y/N's stomach. Their instincts were usually right – and they were screaming that something wasn’t entirely how it seemed to be.

[wiypt-writes]

Riding High

Ch11: I’m Thankful for Chicken Nuggets

Chapter Summary: It’s Thanksgiving and Mary’s eating chicken nuggets.

Chapter Warnings: Bad Language words. SMUT (NSFW, no under 18s thanks!)

Chapter Pairings:  Frank Adler x OFC Fliss Gallagher

A/N: Yeah yeah I know it’s the wrong time of year but hell, we’re all on lock down so the days and months don’t actually exist anyway at the moment… The Boat Company used here IS an actual company in South Pas, but I got no idea who runs it so this is completely made up- roll with me here.

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Fliss Gallagher and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Riding High Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Chapter 10

 “Good morning, Handsom.” Fliss smiled as she held her phone between her shoulder and her ear as she continued to fork up the bedding in the stable.

“Morning sweetheart.” His soft voice hit her ear.

“Happy Thanksgiving!”

“Back at ya.” He chuckled softly “You at the yard?” “Yeah, been here a few hours now.”

“Do you need a hand with anything or…” “That’s really sweet but there’s not much left to do.” she replied, honestly “They’re all out for the day and are staying there until tomorrow morning so I’ve just a couple of stables and then some paper work to sort out before I pop back this evening to do a check.” “Ok so, once you’re done for the morning you’re free for a while?” “Yeah, why?”

“Mary had an idea.” “I did not!” Fliss heard the seven year old scoff  “It was your…” “Ok, WE had an idea,” Frank conceded and there was some scuffling and Fliss could imagine he was holding Mary at arm’s length as she made a grab for the phone, “that maybe you might wanna come join us for dinner if you have time.”

“You mean your Thanksgiving dinner of chicken nuggets?” Fliss grinned “How could I turn that down?”

“Cool, just head over when you’re done.” “I might need to head home and shower.” She looked down at herself. “I’m filthy and probably don’t smell great either to be honest.” “You can change here if you want.”

Fliss paused, she had a spare change of clothes in her car. Well, a pair of sweats and a different polo shirt. She normally kept them there just in case of a downpour.

“Erm, sure, if you don’t mind…” “No of course not.”

“Alright, then, I’ll see you in about two hours or so?” Fliss smiled.

“Great.” Frank replied “See you soon.” ******

Fliss didn’t bother knocking. She opened the door to the apartment and was immediately barrelled into by a flurry of blonde hair.

“Hey!” she chuckled, dropping her bag. “Wanna let me get inside first Stack?”

Mary stepped back and Fliss straightened up and smiled as Frank walked into the kitchen.

“Hey, Beautiful.” he smiled, dropping a kiss to her lips. Mary sidled off into the main room, a smirk on her face.

“I stink.” Fliss warned “I mucked out twelve stables today.”

“Yeah, you’ve smelt better!” Frank laughed as she snorted. “You know where the bathroom is. Fresh towels in there. You need anything out of this or…” He gestured to her bag, as he went to pick it up.

“It’s just my clothes so…”

“I’ll put it in my room.” He smiled, giving her another kiss. “I would offer to come scrub your back but…” he inclined his head to the main room and Fliss gave a snort.

“Calm down, Sailor” she teased “Plenty of time for that later.”

“Promises, promises.” He grinned, picking her bag up and heading through to his room. He dropped her bag onto his bed, glancing round. He’d attempted to tidy a little bit after the realisation she’d actually never been in his room before. After their night together the previous week they hadn’t managed another night alone, Fliss being a little ‘uncomfortable’ at being together like that when Mary was literally outside the door and to be honest, it wasn’t something Frank was particularly happy about either. It had never bothered him before, because Mary was never there when he brought a girl home but this was different. That said, he knew he was going to have to find somewhere bigger soon, Greg had warned him it would likely be a condition of him being awarded Guardianship. He’d be lying if he said it wasn’t concerning him a bit, living pay-check to pay-check didn’t leave him a huge housing budge but he’d work something out, he always did.

Pushing the worry from his mind, he closed the bedroom door and headed back into the room. Mary was sat on the rug looking at the instructions to the new lego kit he had bought her for Thanksgiving.

“Sussed it out yet Stack?” He asked and she gave him a withering look. He bit back the laugh that was bubbling in his throat and sat next to her, taking from her, trying to figure the instructions out to make the Storm Trooper helmet, Star Wars being her latest obsession.

“That’s upside down…” She rolled her eyes, taking it from him to turn it the right way up.

“My bad.” He shrugged, looking at it again. “Ok, so…this piece…and we need one of these…” Together they began to pull together the elements they needed for the first section and the next time Frank looked up was when Fliss walked into the living area, a little shyly, wrapped in a towel. Her long, auburn hair was piled up on top of her head and her shoulders were speckled with water. She smiled as she padded past to his bedroom, Mary not even looking up as Frank watched her with his eyes as she closed the door behind her, giving him another smile. There was something so simple, so domestic about the situation, Frank couldn’t help but feel a warmth in his chest.

Roberta was right, he definitely had it bad.

“When we gonna give Fliss her present?” Mary asked, looking up at Frank.

“After dinner.” He said “Which reminds me, best turn the oven on.”

“Would be a start.” Mary agreed.

Frank rolled his eyes and stood up, heading into the kitchen. Shoving the stuff in the oven, he returned and found Fliss was now sat with Mary who was showing her the instructions.

“I LOVE Star Wars.” Fliss grinned, “So does my Dad. He has a Cinema Room in the house upstairs and a poster from every single Star Wars film on the wall. I’ll show you later tonight.” “A Cinema Room?” Mary asked. “Like, with a huge screen?” “Yeah. It’s pretty cool. When I finally get round to buying a house I’m gonna build one too.” “Do you think I could watch something in there tonight?”

“Mary,” Frank started to warn her but Fliss smiled.

“Frank it’s okay.” she said. “And yeah, course you can. If you have a favourite DVD we can take that or you can pick. We have loads on the hard-drive and Sky.”

It wasn’t long before they were sat round the small kitchen table which had been pulled into the living room to allow them more room. Frank and Mary both showed Fliss their favourite thing to eat in the world- Chicken Nugget Sandwiches. After a sceptical look, Fliss leaned over to take a bite of Frank’s as he offered it and gave a small laugh announcing that it was actually pretty good. After a large slice of Chocolate cake each that had been made for them by Roberta, they collapsed onto the sofa, Mary once more on the rug, Fliss groaning about the “food baby” she was growing, rubbing her hand over her stomach.

“Hey Frank?” Mary looked at him. “Is it time now?”

It took Frank a moment and then he realised what Mary was talking about. “Oh, yeah, hang on…”

He hopped off the sofa and headed into his bedroom, pulling the small gift bag from his dresser. He walked back into the living room and sat back down, shyly handing it to her.

“You got me a gift?” Fliss’ eyes went wide.

“Yeah.” Frank shrugged.

“You really shouldn’t have…” Fliss looked at him. “I didn’t get you two anything…” “That’s not the point of giving a gift.”  Mary looked at her sternly. “You don’t give to receive, right Frank?”

“Right.” Frank nodded, leaning back on the sofa, looking at Fliss “And I wanted to…” he gestured between him and Mary where she was sat, Fred crawling into her lap, “…we wanted to, say thank you for everything over the last few months.” Fliss smiled at him and then Frank saw a childish excitement cross her face “Can I open it now?” He nodded, glad she was going to as he wanted to see her face when she did.

With delicate fingers she gently undid the ribbon that the woman at the store had wrapped it with and her mouth dropped open when she saw the white box which was emblazoned with the Pandora name and logo

“Frank,” she looked at him, before she opened the box and stared at the contents. She blinked before her hand gently covered her mouth as she saw the silver charm bracelet that was inside.

“I thought it was time you started a new one, for new memories.” He said gently as she reached into the box and took out the bracelet which held a single charm in the shape of a boat.

Fliss swallowed, and her eyes filled with tears. “I…” She took a deep breath and Frank frowned as he saw her struggling for composure.

“Hey,” he said, turning sideways on the sofa. His hand gently rubbed up her arm and she fell into him, pressing her face to his chest as he wrapped his arms round her.

“You made Fliss cry. On Thanksgiving.” Mary deadpanned, throwing a ping pong ball for Fred.

“Why don’t you go do that outside?” Frank asked. “Stay on the step.” Mary shrugged and stood up, doing as she was told.

“You ok?” He asked Fliss softly as his hands rubbed at her back. He placed a kiss to the top of her head and she nodded taking a deep breath.

“Sorry, that was…” she sat back, wiping her eyes. “Absolutely fucking ridiculous…”

“You do like it right?” he asked, suddenly feeling a little nervous.

“Baby, I love it.” She smiled at him, and he felt his chest swell not only at the fact she liked the gift, but that was the first time she’d used that particular pet name, and he kinda liked it. “I just, well, I can’t believe you remembered about my bracelets.”

He shrugged as she reached out to gently cup his cheek.

“Thank you.” she smiled softly, leaning over to kiss him. He happily leaned into the kiss, his tongue snaking into her mouth, sliding against hers as she met him movement for movement before there was a light cough and Frank groaned, resting his forehead against Fliss’ as he turned to look at Mary.

“What?”

“Need another ping pong ball. The last one flew under Roberta’s BBQ and I aint going under there…spiders and stuff.” She headed to the box at the back of the room, dug in and retrieved a net of ping pong balls, digging one out.

“Wanna go outside?” Frank asked and Fliss nodded. He stood up and held out his hand, pulling her up with him and they headed out after Mary.

A little while later, after a game of tag on the lawn which resulted in both the girls tackling Frank to the floor in a huge tickle fight, Fliss noting that he was ridiculously ticklish and filing it for future reference, they headed back inside, grabbed their things and after an almost tantrum from Mary who wanted to bring Fred and Frank refusing, they headed off in Fliss’ jeep for the yard to do the final checks for the evening. They were just about to head up to the field to make sure all the horses were settled and the waters were topped up when Bill walked onto the yard.

“Shouldn’t you be with mum getting stuff ready for the party?” Fliss frowned at her Dad, surprised to see him.

“Are you joking!” Bill scoffed “You know what she’s like.” He coughed and then put on a light, airey voice “Bill, those champagne flutes are grouped in threes, not fours. No, those plates don’t go there, they go there. What are you doing with that cheeseboard, the grapes go in the middle…”

Frank felt his eyebrow raise slightly as Fliss laughed. Champagne, cheeseboards? This was not the type of party he was used to, at all.

“Oh don’t worry.” Fliss clocked his face. “It descends into debauchery and chaos after about an hour, mum just likes to play the part of hostess with the mostess…”

“I like cheese.” Mary piped up.

“Good, we got plenty of it.” Bill said. “But, anyway, I dropped by for a reason. I picked something up earlier this afternoon that I think you might like.”

“Me?” Fliss frowned, but before she could say anything else Frank’s attention was taken by a man who was walking down the side of the barn. He slightly taller than Frank, quite stocky and had a shock of dark brown hair and looked ridiculously like Bill. Fliss gave a little shriek and ran towards the man, throwing herself into his arms as he laughed, twirling her round slightly before he dropped her to the floor.

“That’s her brother.” Mary supplied and Frank gave her a look.

“Yeah I kinda figured that.” He rolled his eyes. “How do you know anyway?”

“Saw a photo of him.” Mary shrugged.

Frank turned his attention back to the two siblings and Fliss was now looking between her father and her brother, confusion on her face. “What, I mean, how, why are you here?”

“In New York for a stag do on Saturday.” Steve replied “Thought I’d take the chance and pop down here for a day or so.”

“Does Mum know you’re here?” she asked.

“Yeah, she does now.” he laughed “There were a few tears when I rocked up.” “Frank made Fliss cry before.” Mary said, and all attention turned to Frank who hung his head and let out an audible groan.

“Seriously?” He looked at her as Fliss burst out laughing.

“Because I was happy.” She said, shaking her head “He bought me a new Pandora.” Frank didn’t miss the exchange of looks between father and son, both wearing identical expressions of surprise which morphed into soft smiles as Fliss moved and slid under Frank’s arm.

“Frankie, this is my brother Steve.” she smiled, as Steve stepped forward, holding his hand out. “Or Steeb, Steeby…whatever you want to call him.” “Nice to meet you.” Frank smiled as Steve shook his hand, his grip firm.

“Likewise.” Steve smiled “Heard a lot about you.” He then turned to his left and looked down “And you must be Mary.” “Yup,” She smiled, looking at him “Did you bring your kids?”

“Mary.” Frank warned gently as he looked at her, shaking his head.

“What?” She asked, “I was just asking a question. I wanted to meet them.” “No, not this time.” Steve smiled “Just a flying visit. But they’re coming over for Christmas so I’ve no doubt you’ll get to see them then.” He straightened up and smiled at Fliss. “Where’s that grumpy ginger Nag?” Fliss narrowed her eyes “Don’t you talk about Heidi like that. She’s in the top field.”

“I thought he was talking about V.”  Bill mumbled to Frank who gave a snort, and then looked at the man, the pair of them bursting into laughter. By the time they had composed themselves, Steve and Fliss were stood, watching the pair of them, hands on their hips in almost identical poses.

“They do this all the time.” Fliss shook her head. “Come on, I’ll take you to see H. I was on my way up to check them all anyway. You coming Stack?” she looked at Mary. Mary grinned and ran forward, linking her hand into Fliss’.

Frank miss the eyebrow raised on Steve’s face, before the man smiled softly, dropping an arm round Fliss’ shoulder, pressing a kiss to the side of her head.

*****

Fliss changed quickly when they were home into a pair of jeans, a strappy top and a pair of sandals before the three of them walked over to the house after another near argument about getting Mary to leave the bucket of lego she had brought with her in the annex, which Fliss cleverly managed to avoid with the mention of the Cinema Room.

The house was busy, not packed but busy, and there was no way Frank was going to remember everyone’s names. But he smiled and shook hands as Bill introduced him to people, and he was surprised to find he felt at ease. Most of the people were older than him and Fliss, bar her brother of course, and it was a different circle and class of people he would normally mix with but he certainly didn’t feel like any of them were looking down at him, a stark contrast to how he used to feel at his Mother’s parties.

Well, they weren’t really parties, more like a gathering which rich snobs used to brag to other rich snobs about how much money they had.

“And this is Mike, Martin and Keith.” Bill said, nodding to the final three men, one of whom was giving Fliss a hug.

“You look great!” She beamed at him “How much weight have you lost now?” “40lb.” the man called Keith nodded and Fliss grinned.

“That’s awesome.”

“All down to the golf.” He smiled, gesturing to Mike, Martin and Bill “These guys drag me up there regularly enough.” “Frank hates golf.” Mary said. “Says it ruins a good walk.”

There was a pause as Frank groaned, wanting the ground to open and swallow him. He glared at Mary who looked at him, frowning.

“What?” She asked as Bill suddenly began to roar with laughter, the other men joining in.

Frank shook his head and looked round. “It’s just not my thing…”he said, by means of an explanation. “I prefer playing basket ball or baseball.”

“Each to their own.” The man called Martin beamed. “To be honest when I was your age I hated it too. Was far more into drinking and women.” “Frank likes that too.” Mary said, and Frank then really did give her a look.

“Shut up.” He said, but of course she didn’t as the men continued to laugh.

“Although I’m glad he finally got together with Fliss, because she’s my favourite. Miss Stevenson would not have been a good choice.” Frank groaned again and he felt Fliss beginning to chuckle besides him.

“Miss Stevenson?” Bill asked.

“We don’t need to hear about that…” Frank said, his neck growing hot.

“She’s my teacher.” Mary nodded “She stayed at our house one night. I wasn’t supposed to be there but I saw her coming out of the bathroom wearing Frank’s sheets and…” “Ok, Mary, why don’t we go and see the Cinema Room.” Fliss hastily cut her off as the three men were now all howling with laughter.

“Oh, okay.” she shrugged, before she pondered something “Why was she in your sheets Frank, and not in a towel like Lissy was before?”

At that Bill arched an eyebrow and Fliss felt her cheeks grow warm “I had a shower, I’d mucked twelve stabled out.” There was a pause before she recovered and steered Mary out of the room.

Frank grimaced and looked back round as Bill patted him on the shoulder, wiping tears of mirth out of his eyes. “I bloody love that kid.”

“She’s yours if you want her.” Frank said. “I could gift-wrap her for you. Just say goodbye to your private life being private.”

Thankfully the Cinema Room kept Mary out of the way, especially when she had a stash of popcorn, sweets and soda to keep her occupied. For the next few hours Frank stuck mostly by Fliss’ side, talking to people, chatting to her brother a bit about his job and the business he had taken over from Bill, his kids, but Frank got the impression the man was being a little guarded with him. He was polite enough, and wasn’t being rude but he wasn’t overly warm either. But he supposed that was understandable. She was Fliss’ big brother after all.

Mary came down a few hours later and tugged on Fliss’ hand. Fliss went with her and Frank headed into the kitchen to grab himself another beer after being told by Verity to “stop asking and just go get”. He turned round, flipping the lid off, almost bumping into Bill.

“Sorry.” He apologised to the man who smiled at him as he held the fridge door open.

“There’s someone who just arrived that I want you to meet.” Bill said, gesturing for Frank to follow him. With a slight puzzled frown, he did as he was told and wandered through to the large lounge where a number of people were congregated. 

“Frank, this is Alan Maxwell.” Bill introduced a short, stocky white haired man who was wearing a pair of modern thin-rimmed glasses and a cream blazer over a dark polo necked shirt and dark jeans. Frank took him in, noting his outfit probably cost more than Frank’s entire wardrobe.

“Hi.” Frank smiled, shaking his hand “Frank Adler”

“The boat mechanic?” Alan asked.

“Yeah.” Frank looked at him then to Bill, frowning a little.

“Alan’s in the Repair and Retail business.” Bill offered and Frank gave a nod of understanding.

“I own MarineMax in St Pete’s” Alan smiled.

“Oh on Gulfport?” Frank looked at him and Alan nodded.

“You know it?”

“Yeah, you could say that.” Frank scratch at the back of his neck “I errr, I applied for a job once but I didn’t have the relevant experience so…” Alan looked at Frank for a moment, “How long you been a mechanic now?”

“Over six and a half years.”

“And you’re freelancing?” Frank nodded.

“Good success rate?”

“Over ninety-eight percent.” Frank said. “I mean, I only do one boat at a time because I’ve been juggling my hours around Mary for the last 7 years but…” he shrugged “I have regulars who come back so I must be doing something right.” “Could you get references?”

“Yeah.” Frank nodded “Pretty sure I could.”

“Hmmmm.” Alan looked at Bill who inclined his head towards Frank with a smile.

“I told you, I’ll vouch for him.” he shrugged “He’s sleeping with my daughter after all.”

“Jesus Bill.” Frank groaned as the two men laughed.

“It’s a compliment” Bill smiled “If I didn’t trust you I wouldn’t let you within three foot of her”

“Thanks, I think.” Frank looked at him taking a drink of his beer.

“Come see me next week.” Alan looked at Frank, pulling a card from his wallet and handing it over “I may have a position you’d be interested in.”

“I errr…” Frank was temporarily sideswiped by the suggestion “I…that would be…”

“I know it will be different to freelance but it’s a full time job, full package of benefits and a negotiable wage plus bonus scheme.” Alan said, “I’m not a huge outfit, but I pay my guys well.” Frank nodded, placing the card in his pocket “I’ll stop by.” “Just give me a call the day before and I’ll make sure I’m around.”

“I will.” Frank nodded. “Thank you.”

Frank made his excuses, realising he hadn’t seen Fliss for a while and headed off looking for her. He moved from room to room, realising there was no sign of her or Mary. He headed into the kitchen and then poked his head out of the large bi-folding doors which led onto the large raised decking area which spanned the length of the house.

“Hey.” Frank spotted Fliss’ brother leaning on the railing, lit cigarette in one hand, beer in the other. “You seen Lissy?”

“She was in the living room last time I saw her.” Steve said chuckling slightly, shaking his head.

Frank frowned at the man’s demeanour and Steve noticed, and smiled. “Sorry, just seems strange. Hearing someone else call her Liss or Lissy other than the family.”

“Yeah, well, I kinda picked it up from Bill and it stuck.” Frank smiled.

“Yeah she doesn’t suit Felicity.” Steve shook his head “Although that’s all he ever fucking called her. Apparently nicknames were deemed too common.” “Yeah well, he’s a dick.” Frank shrugged

“No arguments here.” Steve looked at Frank. Frank watched as the man studied him for a second, clearly thinking about something before he returned to leaning on the rail of the decking, looking down over the huge garden area as he took a final drag from the cigarette, before stubbing it out in the fire bucket to his right.

“Okay,” Frank stepped outside, “let’s have it.” “Have what?” Steve asked, looking at him.

“The big brother lecture. The one where you threaten to rip my head off if I hurt your sister.” Frank said as Steve gave a huff of a laugh.

“Well, rest assured I will.” Steve looked at Frank as he too leaned on the railings. “But Dad says you’re a good bloke so, that’ll do for me.” Frank nodded and took a pull of his beer. “I have no intention of hurting her, in anyway.” he said, his voice loaded with meaning and Steve sighed.

“I know.” he said gently “I just, well, I worry.” “Understandable.” Frank nodded, and it was. He got it, he really did.

“I hated that fucker.” Steve shook his head, “right from the start. Smarmy assed, stuck up Yank. Sorry, no offence.” Frank laughed “Non-taken.” he waved Steve’s apology away.

“I know she’s only actually my step-sister but well she was only two when I met her and…”

“Blood doesn’t make you family.” Frank nodded. “If you ever meet my mother you’ll realise that.” “Yeah, Fliss wasn’t very complementary of her.” Steve snorted.

“She called her a cold hearted bitch to her face.” Frank raised an eyebrow as Steve laughed.

“I shouldn’t be pleased at that.” Steve smiled. “But not long ago she wouldn’t have been brave enough to be that outgoing.” “Oh she certainly isn’t backwards in coming forwards.” Frank shook his head

“Something he managed to suck out of her.” Steve sighed.

“You know, I’d love to get that fucker alone in a room” Frank glowered. “Five minutes, that’s all I’d need.” “Get in line.” Steve shrugged, “Behind me and dad.” “Yeah, Fliss said something about there being a queue.”

“The day she said she was moving to Boston to be with him full time, it was the worst day of my life. And Mum and Dad’s” Steve took another drink. “But we knew if we tried to stop her it would give him the perfect excuse to turn her against us. So what could we do but support it?” He hung his head slightly and Frank’s brow furrowed at the man’s open display of vulnerability

“I wish we’d done more, you know, anything, but we didn’t know how bad things had got. Not that he was hurting her, not like that.” “None of it was your fault.” Frank looked at him. “Or your parent’s. Or Fliss’”

“No, I know that but it doesn’t stop any of us feeling guilty.” Steve sighed. “But, anyway, it’s in the past now. That is until he goes for parole, which he will.” Frank shrugged “We’ll greet that when it happens.”

“Yeah?” Steve looked at him. “You ready for all that? Because I guarantee what she’s told you, well it won’t even scratch the surface, Frank.”

“Are you asking me if I’m gonna bail when the going gets tough?”

“Suppose I am, yeah.” Steve looked at him.

Frank took a deep breath and exhaled through his nose, quelling the frustration that was brewing at the man’s questioning, reminding himself that he had a right to worry, a right to be concerned. He’d feel the same if it was Diane in this position.

“Look, Steve, I know she hasn’t told me everything. And I’m not gonna push her to either. It isn’t important to me to know every sordid little detail of what that cunt did to her. What is important is that she’s happy with me, and that she feels safe and knows that I’d never hurt her like that and I sure as hell won’t abandon her when the road gets a little bumpy. She was there for me through a very bad time recently and, well…” Frank shrugged, “even if we decide that what we have isn’t working I’d still be by her side.”

Steve’s face remained passive for a second before it split into a grin “I don’t think there’s any worry about that, Frank. From what I’ve seen this afternoon and this evening, Lissy’s besotted. In fact, I’ve never seen her like this before.” Frank felt his cheeks flush a little and he looked down “Yeah, well, the feeling’s mutual.”

Steve opened his mouth to say something else but they were interrupted.

“My ears burning?” Fliss asked, eyeing the two men up.

“I was just making sure his intentions are honourable.” Fliss rolled her eyes with a snort “his intentions are honourable? What are you, like ninety?”

Steve shrugged “No, but I’m three years older than you and still your big brother Titch.” “Whatever, Steeby.” She moved over to where Frank was stood and slid under his arm. “Quit with the 3rd degree or I’ll tell Mum you’ve been smoking.”

“You wouldn’t!” he said in mock horror as she raised an eyebrow. Steve turned to Frank and raised his eyebrow, jerking his head towards his sister “Sure you know what you’re letting yourself in for?”

Frank laughed “her bark is worse than her bite…owww!” he said, as she nipped his arm.

“Sure it is.” Steve winked as h pushed himself off the railing and headed inside.

“Was he being an ass hole?” Fliss watched him go before she turned to Frank and he chuckled, pulling her closer.

“No,not at all.” he said, dropping a kiss to her lips “Where’s Mary?”

“With Dad in the living room with the guys from the golf club.” she said, shrugging.

“No doubt revealing more of my dark secrets.” Frank groaned.

Fliss laughed “Nah, she’s got her lego. Bill and her will have some kind of building contest going on no doubt.”

“I told her to leave those in the annex.” Frank shook his head. “She did. I took her to get them.” Fliss shrugged

“Seriously?” Frank looked at her, rolling his eyes.

“What? She was bored and wanted something to do.”

“You’re a pain in my ass.” he said, his arms circling her and she grinned as he dropped a kiss to her lips.

“Hush, Sailor, you love it.” she smirked against his mouth.

“Yeah, yeah I do.” he muttered, pulling her closer for a deeper kiss.

******

It was about midnight when the party started filtering out. Mary was crashed out on one of the sofas so Frank suggested they call it a night and Fliss, feeling the effects of a fair amount of alcohol, agreed. They made their goodbyes and Frank easily scooped Mary up and the three of them made their way, a little slower than usual, to the annex.

Once they’d roused Mary and she’d changed for bed Frank tucked her in, in the bed in the spare room and she was flat out before he even closed the door. He headed into Fliss’ room and laughed as she was led on the bed with her legs over the edge, feet flat on the floor. She was wearing just her bra and jeans, and her arm was bent over her eyes.

“My jeans are too tight.” she said.

“What?” Frank laughed.

“I can’t be bothered to take them off.” She leant up on her elbows and ginned at him “Wanna help me out Sailor?”

“Happily.” he grinned, and moved towards her but she stopped him.

“Ah ah.” she pointed to his polo-shirt. “Off.” With an arch of his eyebrow he reached back and grabbed a fist full of his shirt, pulling it over his head. “Better?”

“Yup.” she nodded as he moved towards her, gently dropping down and undoing her jeans. With a tug he pulled them down over her thighs, his hands softly tracing up her skin as she sighed, before his lips met hers.

“You were a hit in there.” she smiled gently, her fingers tracing the muscles on his arms as he propped himself up over her.

“Yeah?” he asked, gently shifting so that she moved with him, laying further up the bed.

She nodded. “Charmed the pants off all the posh bastards you did, Adler.” “There’s only one person I’m interested in charming the pants off.” He quipped and she laughed, shaking her head.

“Smooth.” “Is it working?”

She glanced down. “Nope, they’re still on.”

“Guess I’ll have to use my hands then.” He said, and with a quick move down he slid them over her ankles and gently pressed his lips to her knee, trailing soft kisses up the inside of her leg, nipping at the inside of her thigh. Fliss gave a soft sigh as he moved, his short beard scratching at her skin as he moved, her hands fisting in the sheets. When he reached his target he gently placed a long lick up her entrance. Instinctively, one of her hands fisted in his hair before she hastily moved it and Frank paused, reaching up, and placing it back where it had been.

“I like it.” He peeked up at her, a cheeky look on his face before he dropped his head back down and Fliss’s head fell back against her pillow as she gave a shaky moan.

She couldn’t remember the last time a man had gone down on her. John had certainly never done it, making it clear from the start he found it disgusting, but still happy to shove his dick in her mouth when he wanted a blow. But Frank ate her out like a man starved, moving his mouth as he paid attention to how her body reacted and when he found her spot, she gave a cry, her back arching off the bed, and she felt him double his efforts, his lips and tongue teasing her, in a delectable way. Pleasure lanced through her entire body, the heat rising from her very toes and as she felt her orgasm rising her fingers tightened on his hair and he gave a low moan at her touch, which vibrated through his mouth right against her clit and that was it. Her hips bucked upwards as she came, hard, her knees tightened slightly around his head, her arm flying to her mouth to stifle her loud moan.

Working her through her release, Frank moved back, stripping off the remainder of his clothes before he crawled up her body again, kissing his way up from her naval to her chest. She arched her back and he reached around to unhook her bra before he set his attention to her breasts. Fuck, he could listen to the noises and whimpers she was making all day but after a week he was aching for her.

“You got any…” he started to ask softly and she nodded, her hand gesturing to her bedside table. He paused and pulled open the drawer, and had to smirk as he saw the new, full packet of condoms in there. Pulling one out he opened it, whilst Fliss gently gave his dick a stroke causing him to hiss slightly, his fingers fumbling on the foil and she grinned.

“Something distracting you, Sailor?” “You know damned well what’s distracting me.” His voice was almost a growl as her hand moved over his whilst he rolled the latex down.

Her giggle turned to a moan as he buried himself inside her, his entire body feeling coiled like a spring, and his thrusts began slow, and deep before soon she was begging for more and he picked up the pace, each movement rolling against her spot, causing her to breathlessly whisper his name as he buried his face into her neck, nipping and biting at that spot that drove her wild. At some point she moved, gently pushing on his shoulders, and he understood, rolling onto his back. She straddled him, pulling her long hair over one shoulder as she leaned down to draw him into a deep, sultry kiss before she sank down onto him, taking him in.

“Fuck, Lissy,” he said, his hands gently gripping her hips as she began to move, rolling her pelvis, “God you feel so good.” She preened at his praise, yup, she definitely had a praise kink, and her pace quickened as she leaned forward again to kiss him, a moan falling from her mouth as he raised his hips to meet hers, his fingers tightening on her hips. Frank looked up at her, her mouth slack, lips plump, freckles still visible in the soft light from the outside lights, breasts bouncing softly as she moved.

“So beautiful.” He whispered, sitting up and she cried out at the change of depth as he pulled her close, thrusting up into her.

“Frankie, I’m…” and with a low whine her head tipped back as her release washed over her for the second time that night, a slow, deep burn which left her slack in his arms, as she collapsed forward. After a few more desperate thrusts he was right behind her, clinging to her, his face buried into her shoulder, his own groans stifled in her skin.

They stayed like that for a little while, both recovering, hands softly dancing over skin before he leaned up to give her a soft kiss.

“Thank you.” She whispered and he pulled back, frowning a little.

“What for?”

“For making me feel good. For making me feel wanted.” She swallowed, tears filling her eyes and Frank let out a sigh, his arms curling round her, pulling her close, his own chest tightening at her words as he understood instantly that it was clearly something she wasn’t used to.

“You deserve it.” He spoke softly, , “Don’t ever let anyone tell you otherwise.”

She moved back, her hands cupping his cheeks as she gave him another deep kiss, her lips curling into a smile and Frank smiled back, before he kissed her again.  

***** Frank woke the next morning and, as he blinked, he realised he was alone. Sitting up he rubbed his eyes, and could hear soft voices from elsewhere in the annex. Grabbing his phone he looked down and with a start realised it was past ten.  Running a hand over his face, he climbed out of bed, grabbed his bag and retrieved a clean pair of boxers and a t-shirt before retrieving his jeans which were now folded and placed over the back of the chair by Fliss’ vanity unit. After sorting himself in the bathroom he made his way downstairs and found Fliss and Mary sat outside in the small yard, an array of breakfast items on the table. Fliss long hair was pulled into a messy pony tail and she was wearing an oversized shirt and a pair of denim jeans. Even like that she looked effortlessly gorgeous.

“Morning.” He greeted, stepping out onto the decking and Fliss smiled at him.

“Hey.” She smiled, accepting the kiss he dropped onto her cheek before he sat down next to her. “Sleep well.”

“Hmmm I was tired for some reason.” He quipped, causing her to grin.

“Fliss says I can go ride Monty today.” Mary looked at Frank. “Is that ok?”

“It’s not your week for a lesson.” Frank spoke.“And it’s Friday.”

“It’s ok.” Fliss smiled. “The riding school is shut. Joanne’s done the morning shift so we can just go up this afternoon. I need to work Cap and Bronson but she can ride if she wants.” “Please.” Mary looked at Frank who sighed.

“I’ve gotta nip to the boat yard.” he looked at her. “Got some guy who needs a motor looking at and I said I’d meet him today.” “I don’t wanna go to the boat yard.”  Mary pouted.

“It’s okay, she can come with me.” Fliss offered “I don’t mind, honestly.”

Frank hesitated, he didn’t want Fliss to think she was obliged to take Mary. He knew that the pair of them came as a package but still.

“You sure?” Frank asked. “Roberta would normally take her but she’s not back until tomorrow.”

“Yeah, its fine.” Fliss nodded “She can help me and Joanne.”

“Okay then, yeah, you can go.”

Mary grinned and turned her attention back to her book.

“You want breakfast?” Fliss asked, moving to stand.

“I’ll get it. You stay there.” Frank offered, but Mary suddenly jumped up.

“No it’s okay, we made you something special…” With that she shot into the kitchen.

“Special?” Frank looked at Fliss, and she grinned as his lips met hers.

“Yeah.” she nodded to Mary who emerged from the kitchen, giggling. Frank gave a snort of a laugh and shook his head as she thrust the box of Special K into his hands.

“Thanks…” he deadpanned, rolling his eyes.

**** Chapter 12

[mrsbarnes107]

Secret of the Widow

-part ten-

Summary: Post Endgame time period. The team is healing, trying to navigate this new normal they’ve found themselves in when Bucky and Sam bring home a stray with an attitude and a secret. Will the broken team take her in? Or is it too much to bare?

Warnings: language, violence, smut, death, fluff, angst, blood

Pairings: Bucky x OC

Our footsteps thundered down the halls, narrowly ducking corners and vaulting stairs as we make our way to the containment unit.

"Do you have your suit?"

"No I didn't think I'd need it!"

"Shit. Okay. You stay back and find the one straggling okay? I know you're good hand to hand but without the suit your vulnerable and significantly weaker."

Luckily I always keep two knives strapped to my belt, so I toss one to Peter as we near the hallway leading to the prisoners.

"Aim between the ribs or the center of the throat. Don't stab yourself."

Just as we burst through the doors, the room shakes, pieces of the ceiling crashing to the floor, throwing us against the wall.

Immediately one of the bombers is on top of me, fist connecting sharply with my jaw. From the corner of my eye I can see Peter handling himself decently. With a swift knee to the gut I have the man under me, one knee pressing into his throat.

Before I can react, his fist slams into my stomach, sending my body further down his own. Taking advantage of my pause to get air back into my lungs, the man hauls us up and slams my skull against the wall then shoves me away.

Hot, thick blood crept slowly down over my brow, dripping into my eye, and flowing down my cheekbone.

With a sigh I plant my foot on his leg while hooking the other around his neck, throwing my body forwards. Bitches belong on their back, he seems to have not gotten the message.

Peter let's out a pained yell from across the room that has me leaping up, pausing to throw my knife straight into the piece of scums heart.

Before I can get to Peter the building is shaking again, a loud roar coming from the adjoining room. With a glance in the kids direction I can see Clint pushing him back while jackknifing the other bomber.

Heavy stomps make there way into the large room. A man well over six feet tall, covered in a billowing cloak, stalks towards me.

His face is obscured by a hood, but from what is exposed, it looks like a decomposing skull.

Black eyes meet my own, a low chuckle reverberating from his chest. "After a year of searching, here you are beautiful."

Not breaking eye contact I bend down to pull the blade from the dead mans chest, standing upright with my head cocked and a brow raised.

"I'm certain I would remember meeting you. Might I suggest a better moisturizer? You seem a little dry."

To the left Clint has disposed of the other prisoner, bow aimed at the beast before us.

The room is filled with black shadows, lit only momentarily as the red alarms flash in sequence.

As the man takes a slow step towards me Clint releases the arrow piercing the beasts arm. With a pause the arrow is snapped in half, point still embedded in the muscle.

Suddenly Clint is running at him, ducking into a slid between his legs while slicing the ankles. The large man grunts and turns as Clint swings a fist towards him. Immediately the man begins mirroring Clints every move. Matching each punch and kick, never once allowing the archer to land a blow. The avenger however was growing weaker with every hit.

With his back facing me, I jump onto his narrow hips, stabbing the blade into his shoulder, dragging it as far down his muscled back as possible. The gash is flowing with blood, covering my hands as the man throws my body to the floor, launching Clint into a wall across the room to land with a thud.

The beast of a man turns back to me, pure rage written across his dead face. "You're incredibly lucky I was ordered to bring you back alive, otherwise that pretty face of yours would be carved to pieces."

A second too late I see Peter sneaking up behind the man. His knife plunging into the mans ribs, likely grazing the heart. With a roar he falls to a knee, ripping the knife from his side. As he turns towards the boy I launch myself at him. Throwing my body weight into my punch, his head snaps to the side, his face glitching for a split second before I drag my knife up his abdomen. His large fist meets my ribs, sending me back a few yards.

He looks into my eyes and laughs as he turns to Peter, the kid stares up at him with doe eyes, terrified but standing his ground. I wish the idiot would run.

"However beautiful, him I can enjoy killing."

He launches his body at Peter, blood flowing down his back and chest, movements stuttering and slowed from his injuries.

A scream is ripped from my throat as I launch my knife into his open side wound and close my eyes.

I appear at the kids side within a blink, yanking him to me.

The last thing I see is the beastly man walking from the room slowly, his body red and weakening.

"I'll be back beautiful."

My eyes close again, opening to see Peter and I back in the lab.

***

Hours later we're sitting in the medical unit, me stitching up the boys as Peter looks at me with confused concern.

"Ali... did you know him?"

I press an alcohol cloth to Clints head, ignoring the dried blood sticking to my face.

"No, not in the technical sense. I'm pretty sure I know of him though. I called the team while you were helping Clint, they're on their way back, as is Nicky."

"O-okay, are we gonna talk about what happened earlier? In the lab?"

"Yeah Petey, we'll look at the video after the meeting. They'll be here in a couple minutes." With that I finish the last stitch and head out of the room.

Rounding the hallway I stop and fall against the doorway, a shuddering breath finally heaving from my lungs, tears welling in my eyes.

I was so fucking close to loosing them. And I'm so fucking tired.

"Ms. Romanoff, the quinjet has landed."

Letting out a deep breath I wipe my eyes and drag my body upright, forcing my legs to walk steadily to the conference room. Only faltering as I fall into the chair I sat in just yesterday.

After a few minutes Peter comes in, Clint hanging off his shoulder. They sit in the chairs to my right as I take a deep sip of my water, hopping it revives the little energy I have left.

"Hey Red, couldn't handle a few lowlifes without-" Sam playfully said as he waltzed into the room, pausing as he took a look at the beat up members in front of him, face becoming livid. "What the hell happened?"

Behind him stood Wanda and Banner, neither saying a word as they silently sit at the end of the table. Wanda eyeing me with curiosity, so I let her see the events herself.

She lets out a small gasp just as Bucky rounds the door, coming to a halt as his eyes meet mine.

Flashing a small smile I shrug, "At least you didn't do anything stupid."

That was definitely not what he wanted to hear it seems. His jaw looks like it's about to break from clenching so hard, his blue eyes cutting into me like steal as he slowly stalks forward.

He stops once his feet meet my own, bending down as his hand cups my chin, raising my eyes to meet his.

His gaze is terrifying. He looks murderous.

But his hand is gentle as he moves my head, eyes scanning my injuries. He growls from deep in his throat, "How the fuck did this happen."

***

After finally getting Bucky to sit down, albeit practically pressed against my side as his leg is hooked underneath my own, Nicky walks in demanding to know how a non-mission went to shit so hard.

I have Friday pull up the video footage of the containment room in the center of the table. All of us watching as Clint walked in and opened the cell, ordering the men out. All eyes glanced his way, but before anyone could speak the Clint in the video shimmered and turned into the beastly man.

Peter looked from the footage to me."He shapeshifts?"

"No. He projects a hologram. He likely walked past the guards straight through the front door."

I hold in a breath as I lean forward to move the footage to our arrival.

Bucky feels me tense in pain, his large hand coming to rest on my knee as his thumb rubs circles against the muscle.

Nicky stands to my right, his hand resting on the chair above my shoulder. Knuckles cracking as he watches me and the boys getting thrown around.

Bucks hand squeezes my thigh as if holding himself in place as he watches the fresh blood run down my skull.

The footage stops after I disappear with Peter from the room.

The team sits in silence for a moment, everyone staring at the paused hologram.

I take a sip of water and clear my throat. Jeez, I think Nicky is infecting me with his throat problem. "Well today wasn't boring am I right."

Nicky let's out a very burdened sigh as he shakes his head. I don't know why he seems fed up with me.

"Okay. We're going to ignore that little disappearing act for the moment while you tell me why the hell that guy seemed to want you so bad."

Buckys hand clenches tighter. Reaching down I lay my palm over is unwavering fingers and give them a soft squeeze.

"Friday, bring up a frame of Skelator please."

A grainy image of the decomposing man hovers in the center of the team. I nod at the photo as I take another drink, trying to keep from collapsing.

"To answer that very snarky comment I'm gonna have to also explain the uh the little 'disappearing act' as well."

I sit up a little straighter and push a clump of blood soaked hair from my face with a sigh.

"Having to go dark is a part of the job, we all know this. There's been a few instances where I've had to go underground for a month or so, like I said it's common in our line of work." I have to pause for a moment, trying to figure out how to best word my story. "You see, while the avengers were all tearing at each others throats after the accords, I was dealing with a group of terrorists in the mountains of Siberia. I suspected they were old Hydra members, however I did not expect getting trapped in a very well functioning base."

I glance up at Nicky, "You remember a few months ago when you asked why I went dark for six months before the snap?" A weak chuckle escapes my lips. "I was kind of taken by Hydra. The only reason I even escaped was because the snap."

Living up to his name, Nicky is looking at me with pure fury in his eye as he calmly berates me. "And you never thought to mention this?"

"There was a lot going on okay. Anyways, there were a couple others like me being kept there. Hydra was running experiments again-" Buckys body has been rigid since I mentioned being taken, but now his hand turns to weave his fingers in mine "-dozens of injections and tests, torture meant to stimulate a reaction to the serums. I was the only one to survive. And well, you saw what I can do."

"You teleport?" Sam asked with interest, concern hidden beneath the words.

"Um kind of I guess. I don't do it much, which is why I've never mentioned it. It takes a lot of energy. Like a lot. Just moving myself a few miles away requires a Barnes size serving of food and a short nap. Moving myself to another continent? I'm out within a couple hours. Moving another person? Well.." I shrug. "It's hard and it takes a lot. I can only jump to places I can visualize: my room, Tower of London, I can't just jump unless I've been there or have seen a photo."

"Have you practiced much?" Banner looked like he was running equations behind those glasses, trying to piece together an explanation.

"Not really, besides my time at Hydra I haven't used it much this past year. I think that's why today wiped me out so much."

I take another drink of water, draining the glass.

"Anyways, during my stay at the base I heard the doctors talking about a hired assassin a couple times. A man they have train new recruits and take out certain hits."

Bucky gives my hand a squeeze, his eyes never leaving my face.

"They call him Taskmaster. He has photographic reflexes, meaning he can mimic anyone's fighting styles, sometimes even their powers. I never got to see him and they never described him, but based off of what we saw with Clint and the fact that he's so adamant on finding me, I'm gonna guess he was sent by Hydra. And I think it's safe to also guess that the bombing from yesterday was to lure me out, while today's separated and weakened the team."

Peter gets up and pulls me into a soft, firm hug. Pulling away he looks into my tired eyes as I give him a smile. "Oh Petey-" "Shush and accept my thank you while I go get you some food." With a kiss to my check he jogs from the room.

[the-slasher-files]

ANDREI KULOKOVA HEADCANONS

Clearly I cannot get this man out of my head.. like ever! Honestly I’ve been in a big big writing lull lately and I only want to write for Andrei, so I happy to share these hcs with you!.. hope you enjoy 🔪💕

MASTERLIST

Andrei’s code names in the army were ‘The Wolf’ or 'North’

He has O negative blood type, meaning he is a universal donor. Andrei always (when he is wearing his vest) has IV tubing and needles, just in case.

On that topic, Andrei is very knowledgeable with medical information, he has saved many of his brothers in the army from death. He can save you, but the issue is if he cares to.

Yes he is a very hot bloodied man, but under pressure he is calm and cool, especially with his s/o. Feral rage can turn instantly off if he sees someone he loves really hurt, calmly giving orders and helping you.

Andrei never went to school after his mother died, at age 12. He may not be super educated in math or sciences but this man is smart. Never underestimate him. He can fix a truck, be your handy man around the house, and has amazing people skills.

He is a history buff.. Yup, you heard me. Andrei loves history, specifically war history. After his uncle died he was free to explore more education and he found a deep love in history, learning it all himself through reading, documentaries and listening to people around him. (Me and @horrorslashergirl have a weird AU where he is in college and works in a museum, in a suit with glasses 👀)

Andrei is trained in many things but one I don’t talk about often is bombs and specifically land mines. This guy loves to blow stuff up for fun and has a few land mines in specific places on his land, and abandoned town.

His favorite drinks are a deep earl grey (a Russian blend of course) and Vodka on the rocks.

He loves bath time.. yup a hot bath, even with bubbles he doesn’t care, he loves it.

One of my favorite things about Andrei is when he needs to think or stop his active mind, he goes into his field (usually shirtless) and just stands out there, closes his eyes, enjoying the peace and quiet.

Andrei HATES condescending and controlling people, it brings him back to when he was a kid or in the army. Now that may seem hypocritical but honestly it is not. Degradation is for sexy time and teasing only, and Andrei is only controlling with his playthings but even then he lets them decide and have a good amount of freedom.

Man is a furnace and doesn't feel cold what so ever

He loves action movies, even though he will comment on how unrealistic they are. Also he loves documentaries.

Andrei listens to all kind of music. Mainly rock or metal but he loves Russian new wave and some rap. He also had a HUGE punk phase so that occasionally comes on.

He will do any dare or bet, not even kidding. His army buddies stopped daring him to do stuff because he would just do it. Andrei is a big thrill seeker and will do so much stupid stuff.

He used to have a wolfdog, a brother to Amaria’s wolfdog Dyn. Unfortunately it had too high of a concentration of wolf in it and he had to let it go, but he does still see him every once and a while. He even named him Alexei, meaning “great defender” in Russian. Andrei always leaves one of the outbuildings open for him just incase the weather gets too cold or dangerous. Also he may or may not use him to get rid of bodies, if he sees him wandering around.

Andrei drives a 1995 Range Rover all black with giant snow tires, or his black old Russian truck.

He can ice skate and used to play hockey with his buddies

He is secretly loaded. Yes he has money in his walls and all over the town. Andrei knows what he is worth and his rates aren’t cheap, plus it’s all in cash so there is no paper trail. He is never one to flaunt his wealth, you probably won’t even know until you see him coming home from a mission with a duffle bag of cash, throwing it in under the floor boards.

Andrei had a secret male s/o in the army, it was his first male relationship but they had to hide it from everyone. In a dangerous feral state the wolf had killed him, that was his last undercover mission.

This guy can read people like no tomorrow, every tiny subtle thing you do he notices. Could be the way you bite your cheek if you’re nervous or the way you rub your hands together when excited. He knows.

Also Andrei is very good at manipulation but doesn’t use it often.

He is a terrible sleeper. Andrei wakes at every noise in the house and only gets about 5 hours a night but only 1 hour is actually deep sleep. Sometimes he gets so exhausted that his body gives out and he will sleep for 12 hours fully clothed, in his cargo pants, vest and jacket. However he is much better with an s/o to sleep with, it’s still bad though.

I say this a lot but Andrei has an incredibly active mind, and it’s hard for him to relax or ease up. He uses drinking and smoking as a way to calm down, also just walking into the field for peace.

His favorite food is a nice hardy warm stew with rabbit meat.

Andrei adores just holding his s/o in his arms as on the couch or in bed.

He is honestly kind of paranoid, not so much by himself but if he has a s/o. You can come with him to the nearest town, but never ever draw attention to yourself or him, for your safety. He has people after him.

The wolfs signature is ripping off someone’s jaw or ripping out their spine by gutting them and reaching in.

If you mess with him but he dubs you as not a worthy hunt or not a good kill, you might see a bear trap in your home the next morning.

His tattoo on his left palm 'NO GODS’ is something he got to remind himself that he has control of his life and take his fate into his own hands, not his paranoid controlling uncle. It also holds him accountable for his actions, there are no gods to blame, he did it. The tattoo connects to Amaria as well. She is a lil crazy and does kills for 'the gods’, but Andrei sees that as foolish, he does his kills for himself, nothing else.

The 'grateful for the hunt’ thing I often write in Andrei’s stories is what his uncle would always say to him, with people or animals. It’s burned into his brain and it will never leave him. The words remind him to breathe and take in every deadly detail, that Andrei loves so so much.

Alright time to get.. a little odd lol… me and some friends have an interesting thing going where Andrei has a 'wolf pack’.. Dallas (@slashersins oc) is his husband, not legally, but Dallas wears a wolf ring for him. Xaviera (@horrorslashergirl oc) is Andrei’s soul mate and girlfriend. Xaviera’s cousin Akshay is Andrei’s best friend, they fight constantly but have so so much fun.. plus they fuck when they’re drunk lol. I am Akshay’s 'snow queen’ aka girlfriend. Andrei also has 2 'playthings’ Bianca (@horrorslashergirl) and Sights (@thesightstoshowyou)… the house is too full and Andrei may or may not regret having all these people lol.

[nayutai]

The Task At Hand

Pairing Mingyu x Female OC

Word Count 15.1k

Warnings mentions of infidelity, mentions of racism, foul language, anxiety, insecurities, therapy sessions, dumbasses in love, light choking, dry humping

Summary The first year of marriage is always the hardest. Unfortunately for Mingyu and Kamile, the first year as husband and wife may also be their last. 

Notes This absolute behemoth of a fic is my contribution to The Intimacy Anthology where I, along with many other fantastic writers, have explored intimacy in all of its many forms. This fic is incredibly close to my heart and I hope that you all enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Please check out the other stories featured in the project here as well! 

Mingyu fumbles with his keys in the dark as he searches for the one that’ll get him into his house. The alcohol coursing through his system is making this very simple task a lot harder than it needs to be. He shouts victoriously when he finally manages to unlock the front door to stumble inside. He freezes when he hears someone clapping slowly off to his right.

“Two minutes and forty seven seconds. That didn’t take you as long as I thought it would but then again you have been good at finishing quickly these days.” Mingyu groans deep in his throat at the scathing words from the woman staring him down from the love seat in the living room. She lifts a glass of what he can only assume is white wine to her lips, draining it quickly. 

“I’m too drunk for your bullshit tonight, Kamile.” Mingyu grunts as he leans back against the door to steady himself while he toes his sneakers off. All he wants to do is crawl up the stairs to the guest room he’s been sleeping in so that he can go to sleep. He rolls his eyes when he hears Kamile clear her throat from across the room. If he knows anything about his wife, nothing good is about to come out of her mouth. 

“If you didn’t want to hear my bullshit then maybe you should’ve shown up for dinner with my parents tonight.” The venom in her voice makes Mingyu’s blood run cold. He’d totally forgotten about her mother’s birthday dinner tonight. Fuck. As much as he hates to hear her nagging him, even he has to admit that he deserves it this time. This dinner has been planned for months and he should’ve been there. 

He forces his eyes to focus when he looks back over at the brooding woman shooting daggers at him from across the room. It’s then he registers the fact that she’s still fully dressed despite the late hour. Kamile is a huge proponent of being comfortable within the walls of her own home and for her to sit in a dress and heels as she waits on his appearance does not bode well for him in the slightest. He’s surprised that she hasn’t launched her wine glass at his head.

“Whatever or whoever you were out doing,” Kamile rises slowly from the couch, impressively steady in her heels despite the bottle of wine she ran through waiting on her neglectful husband to come home. Silence stretches between them interrupted only by the damning clicks of her shoes against the hardwood flooring. Kamile stops to appraise the man she married when she reaches him, wondering where it all went wrong. 

“…I hope it was worth it.” She silences his groveling with a raised hand. She’s tired of the arguing. Tired of the excuses. Just tired in general. 

Most people would have some sort of emotional response to this but her exhaustion leaves nothing but an empty void in its wake. Mingyu may as well be yelling at a brick wall for all the response he gets from Kamile as she slowly climbs the stairs. The sound of the bedroom door clicking shut echoing around the house may as well have been a gunshot.

“One more thing for her to hold over my fucking head.” Mingyu grumbles as he slowly blazes his own trail up the stairs. He pauses before the closed door to the bedroom they once shared, hand gripping the doorknob in his hand as he contemplates going in to apologize. “What’s the use? Not like she’d listen to me now anyway.”

The bed in the guest room welcomes him like an old friend when he flops down on it, draining him of his energy. Thoughts of how he’ll fix things in the morning drift through his head. Sleep evens out his features, lulling him into a peaceful slumber despite the fact that he’s still fully clothed. The perfect cover for the plans being set in motion right down the hall. 

The sun rouses Mingyu from his sleep way before he’s ready. He could’ve sworn that the curtains were pulled closed when he went to bed but it’s hard to know what’s what when you’re three sheets to the wind at god only knows what time. Blindly, he reaches out for his phone where he’d left it on the nightstand but comes up with a piece of paper instead. It takes a minute for his eyes to focus enough to read the words on the page, but when they do he finds himself bolting for the ensuite bathroom. The offensive piece of stationary gently drifting to the ground as if it hasn’t just ruined his life.

He heaves and wretches until he has nothing left to give. His knees buckle several times as he tries to brush his teeth which is an incredibly difficult task to complete when one is sobbing with everything they have. This can’t be happening. He refuses to believe that this is his reality. Mingyu’s heart sinks even lower when he drags himself back to the bedroom and sees Kamile’s  wedding ring on the night stand next to his phone. He retrieves the letter from where it rests on the floor, reading it over until the tears he’d fought back make a reappearance.

Doing this feels incredibly impersonal but I feel like it’s probably better this way. I realized that the flame I thought would burn forever is barely a spark anymore. Tonight was an epiphany for me. I realize that I deserve better and I’ve decided that I will have it. I’ve always wished you joy and light and I will probably never stop doing that despite everything that’s happened but I can’t do it as your wife anymore. 

Take care,

Kamile Dexter

The usage of her maiden name feels like the final nail in his coffin. He calls. He texts. He emails. He even sends her a message on instagram. Every single attempt to reach her goes unanswered. Anyone could see that things hadn’t been the best between them for a while, but never in his most horrific nightmares did Mingyu think that Kamile would actually leave. 

Time is irrelevant to Mingyu in the days that follow Kamile’s departure. He wakes up when his alarm goes off and drifts through the day. His nights are spent calling Kamile despite the fact that she never answers which then leads to him drinking himself into an alcohol-induced sleep complete with all the blessed numbness that it provides until his alarm goes off once more. This is without a doubt the lowest point of his life and he doesn’t know how to fix it. Kamile grew up with Vernon so naturally Mingyu tries to enlist his help. Unfortunately, it seems that she has anticipated that move and stops answering Vernon’s calls and texts as well. 

With all of his other options seemingly exhausted, Mingyu calls the one person that could possibly help him, Sidra Dexter. A woman with many accolades to her name, Sidra considers being Kamile’s mother to be the most important among them. If anyone knows how to get through to his wife, it’s Sidra. Mingyu prays that she still has a soft spot for him as the phone rings in his ear. If this call goes unanswered, then he really will lose all hope in saving his marriage. 

“It’s about damn time you called me, Gyu Bear. My daughter left you a whole week ago tomorrow and you’re just now enlisting my services? Tell me why that is.” Never a woman to beat around the bush, Sidra gets right to the point with the accuracy of a heat-seeking missile. 

“I don’t know what to do, Mama Dee. She won’t talk to me.” Mingyu whines, on the verge of tears for the umpteenth time today.

“Of course she won’t. She’s stubborn just like her ornery ass father.” The aforementioned father pipes up in the background to defend himself but is quickly shut down. “Now back to you, Gyu Bear. You have messed up big time but I love you so I’m going to help you fix it but I have one question first.”

“Yes, ma’am?”

“Did you cheat on my daughter? And yes that ‘harmless flirting’ shit you men folk like to do counts as cheating in my book.”

“Of course not! Wait…does Kam think I cheated?” Mingyu is floored and honestly a little angered at the fact that after all these years together Kamile thinks he’s actually capable of infidelity. The alcohol-induced haze clears long enough for his brain to recall a comment she’d made the night she left about whoever he was doing being worth it. 

“She sure does,” Sidra starts up, “but luckily for you, my gut says that you’re telling the truth and it hasn’t steered me wrong in the last 56 years so I don’t see a reason not to trust it now. So here’s what we’re going to do.”

Mingyu listens intently as Sidra outlines her master plan. Not for the first time, he’s in awe of the way her brain functions. The tightness in his chest subsides a little bit with every word she says. For the first time in the six days since Kamile left, Mingyu feels like his life has meaning again. His marriage might not be over after all. 

Despite the fact that Kamile had no intention of answering any of Mingyu’s desperate pleas for attention, the sudden cessation of said pleas only serve to further increase her anguish. She’d originally thought she’d be able to finally find peace when he gave up, but that does not seem to be the case. A part of her didn’t want him to stop trying. Didn’t want him to stop fighting for her.

Did I make the right choice?

The question has haunted her every waking moment as she adjusts to her new normal. She’s been adrift for the last ten days trying to figure out her next plan of action. Should she stay in Korea? Should she go back to America? Should she throw a dart at a map and go wherever it lands? The possibilities are endless but Kamile finds herself unable to fully commit to either option which is how she’s ending up existing on takeout in a hotel for the past week and some change. God, why did she have to be so impulsive? She should’ve made sure that she had a game plan before she just up and left like that. 

Her phone rings on the small night stand, interrupting her self-loathing thoughts. Kamile groans when she sees that it’s her mother. Ever since she’d broken the news to her parents that she’d decided to leave Mingyu, her mom has been giving her grief. Kamile had always had a hunch that her mom loved Mingyu just as much if not more than she loved her, but their break up has made her think that her hunch had been closer to the truth than she’d previously thought.

“Hey, ma.” Kamile greets her mother apprehensively, bracing for the latest round of her mother’s reconciliation efforts. 

“Hello, my lovely daughter. I just landed in Seoul so if you don’t mind coming to get me from the airport that would be great.” Kamile chokes on the mouthful of noodles she’d been munching on. There’s no way in hell that her mother just said that she’s in Seoul. Sure enough, Kamile pulls her phone away from her ear to check her mother’s location and it says that she is in fact at the Incheon Airport. 

“Baby, what did I tell you about making sure you properly chew your food before swallowing. Did you forget what happened to your Uncle Tommy?” Kamile barely hears her mother’s recounting about the uncle who’d died from choking on a fish bone as she rushes around her hotel room gathering her things. She can’t believe her mom really flew halfway across the globe. Thankfully, her hotel isn’t far from the airport so Kamile is helping her mother put her bags in the back of her SUV in no time at all.

“Not that I’m not happy to see you or anything, but what are you doing here?” Kamile questions as she eases her car into the steady stream of traffic bound for the exit. 

“You just left your husband and you didn’t come home to me so I don’t know what made you think that I wasn’t coming out here. A friend of mine is letting me stay with her since I know how you are about your space.” 

Kamile is more than a little thankful for that. Her mother can be overbearing when she’s on a mission and the fact that she’ll still be able to maintain some personal space is comforting. She’s only too happy to let the gps in her guide her to this friend’s house. The closer they get to their destination though the more unsettled she becomes. She has no idea why her gut is telling her to be suspicious, but she’s definitely not about to ignore it. Kamile’s sense are on high alert when she turns into the driveway of a nondescript home in one of the more affluent suburbs of the city. 

“Mom, what’s this friend’s name?” Kamile eyes the structure in front of her as if it could possibly grow teeth and bite her. Something is not right here and if there’s one thing her mother taught her, it’s to trust her gut instinct and right now her gut is telling her to throw her car in reverse and get the hell out of dodge. The only thing keeping her from running for the hills is the fact her mother seems so at ease as she hops out of the car to grab her bags. 

“Her name is Bae Yeojin. She studied abroad at Villanova her junior year and we were roommates. She’s got a pretty successful business now.” Kamile hums in acknowledgement. She vaguely recalls her mom telling her about a girl named Yeojin from college, but that does nothing to assuage the uneasiness in her gut. 

Kamile waits at the bottom of the steps as her mother knocks on the front door. Her fingers are drumming on banister, eyes glancing back and forth from the ornate door and her car. She clutches her keys like a lifeline. At the slightest provocation, she’s ready to bolt. The two women squeal like school children and not the established professionals they are at the first sight of each other. Kamile wonders briefly how long it’s been since they last saw each other.

“Kamile Danielle Kim get your ass up here and say hi.” Not one to disobey a direct order, especially one accompanied by her full name, Kamile reluctantly climbs the short staircase.

“Jesus, Sid, you really spit this one right out. She’s practically your twin.” Yeojin exclaims. She pulls Kamile into a quick hug before ushering the both of them inside. 

One deep breath and Kamile instantly realizes why she felt so uneasy. There’s candles burning in the foyer, but they do nothing to mask the familiar scent she’s spent the last six years smelling. Mingyu is in this house somewhere. She spins around to fix the two women with what she hopes is a threatening glare. Unfortunately, neither one of them appears to be phased by it in the slightest.

“What the hell is going on here?” Kamile’s quickly starting to realize that not trusting her gut has landed her in a situation she most definitely has no interest being in. Her eyes quickly dart back and forth between the two scam artists in front of her.

“I told you she’d figure it out. Pay up.” Yeojin doesn’t take her eyes off Kamile as she holds her hand out to Sidra who is grumbling while she digs in her purse to hand over a few bills.

“Dammit, Kam, did I really raise you to be this observant? You’re costing me money.”

“Yes, now what in the fresh hell do y’all have going on?” The answer to her question comes in the form of timid footsteps sounding off behind her. Her spine stiffens. She doesn’t have to turn around to know who it is. She can sense him. “Fuck this. I’m leaving.”

“No, you’re not. Now turn your little narrow butt around and have a seat.” Sidra adopts the tone she’d frequently used when Kamile was growing up and even now as an adult Kamile knows that disobeying this direct order is not the right choice to make. 

It’s with a grimace, that she pivots on her heel to face her husband for the first time since she walked out on him. The satisfaction she feels when she sees just how awful he looks is cancelled out by the fact that she probably looks just as bad. It would be a lie to say that she hasn’t missed the comfort and solace his presence used to bring her. That she doesn’t want to let the outside world fade away as she hides away in his embrace. She wants that back. Craves it even, but enough is enough.

Curse words flow like running water through Kamile’s mind as her mother situates her on a love seat in the living room with Mingyu sat right next to her. His large frame dwarfs the slightly undersized piece of furniture. She can feel the body heat radiating off of him and it’s a battle of wills to keep from leaning into him. 

“First things first…” Sidra claps her hands as she and Yeojin take a seat on the sofa opposite the troubled couple, “I think now is a good time to mention that Ms. Yeojin here is actually a therapist who specializes in couples therapy.”

Of course she is.

Kamile rolls her eyes as the puzzle pieces start clicking into place. She could be buried under her blankets, binging on The Golden Girls right now, but no, her meddling ass mother has scammed her into marriage counseling instead. She should’ve ran when she had the chance.

“Based on what Sid has told me, the two of you are exactly one week shy of your first wedding anniversary and already on the verge of divorce. So, who would like to dump their emotional baggage on the floor first?” Yeojin glances between Kamile and Mingyu looking for a crack in their demeanor that she can exploit. Mingyu looks like he wants to hurl while Kamile’s face is a carefully constructed mask of indifference. She makes her choice easily.

“Mingyu, thank you for volunteering. Let’s hear it.” 

Put on the spot, Mingyu chances a glance sideways at Kamile before clearing his throat. Yeojin sits at the ready with her notebook and pen. She listens intently as Mingyu tells the fiasco as he sees it.

“I know I forget things sometimes. I try not to, but I’m an idol. I have a lot going on but that’s no different from when we first started dating so I don’t know why it’s suddenly such a big issue now.” Mingyu seems to find his voice as he speaks up on how he believes that he’s been wronged. The timid nervousness he’d felt before quickly getting pushed down so that his frustration can take over.

“When we first started dating, I wasn’t being abandoned in a house all day with nothing to do.” Kamile may have been grumbling under her breath but Mingyu hears her loud and clear. His head whips around so fas that the two mothers across from him silently worry about the neck pain that may cause him later. 

“You have nothing to do because you’ve turned down every opportunity that’s come your way.” Thoughts of the numerous job and consulting offers from Pledis and other entertainment companies like them that she turned down come flying to the forefront of his memory. Human resource agents have practically been beating down their door for the chance to work with Kamile, a creative visionary in her own right, but she’s rejected them one after another without a moment’s hesitation.

“You mean every opportunity that you have sent my way. Like why would I want to work at that entertainment company and be forced to watch that bitch Miyeon flirt with you every day like you’re not married?” Mingyu is forced to concede to her point with that one. Miyeon is one of the stylists at the company and, despite his repeated rejection, is too flirtatious for his liking as well. Unfortunately, she’s deeply entrenched in the corporate hierarchy and nothing short of murder would make the higher ups get rid of her even if all of the members have lodged complaints against her. 

“Is that the simple hoe you come home smelling like every time you’re ‘out with the boys’?” Kamile adds on as if she’s finally started connecting some dots in her overactive imagination. The fact that she has even entertained the thought of Mingyu not only cheating on her but cheating on her with Miyeon of all people makes his blood boil.  

“Why do you think I’m cheating on you? Why do you always just assume the worst about me? Do you think Vernon would ever let me even think about cheating on you? The man hates violence but he would beat my ass over you and we all know that.” The frown on Kamile’s face falters at the mention of her oldest friend. Mingyu is correct in saying that he would absolutely fight him, but there are still some thing that aren’t adding up. Yeojin attempts to halt the conversation so that they can delve deeper into what Mingyu just said but Kamile beats her to the punch. 

“You come home smelling like warm vanilla sugar every night when everybody knows that I am a Japanese cherry blossom supremacist. What am I supposed to think, Mingyu?” She can’t believe that he has the audacity to sit next to her and still lie. The palms of her hands itch with the urge to throw things but she’s done enough of that plus this isn’t exactly her house either.

“Seokmin always sprays us down with some random perfume because he says it keeps the women away and honestly, it actually works like a charm so I’m always first in line to get sprayed.” Kamile’s anger deflates almost immediately. To anyone that doesn’t know Lee Seokmin that would sound like a crock of shit, but it’s perfectly on brand for him.

“Well, how was I supposed to know that?”

“We’re fucking married, Kamile. You could’ve just asked. Better yet you could have come with me to these events like I’ve asked you to do a million times.” 

“You know I hate those things.”

“Everyone hates them, but I would hate them a lot less if I had you there with me. I just feel like I’ve been trying to make an effort but you’re not meeting me halfway.”

“I knew my Gyu Bear wasn’t a cheater!” Sidra, who hasn’t set a word since things had started to get heated, pipes up.

“God, Mom could you at least pretend that you love me more than him?” Kamile throws her hands up in frustration. Her mother’s obvious favoritism is really starting to get to her right now.

“Not until you start giving me less grief.”

“Now, now, Sid. Let’s not derail the progress we’re making here. Kamile, is there anything you’d like to bring to the table?” Yeojin pats her dear friend on the back of her hand to reign her back in. She’d hate to ruin the momentum they got going by having Kamile suddenly switch gears to argue with her mother.

Kamile is only too happy to tell her side of the story as she recounts the events of the night that she decided to leave Mingyu and how it was the tipping point for her. Yeojin listens intently, taking note of the fact that none of the issues that Kamile has with her husband are particularly heinous aside from the debunked cheating suspicions. Each transgression on it’s own wouldn’t be enough to end in divorce, but rather it’s the heaping pile of them that overwhelmed Kamile to the point that she felt she needed to get out.

The more she listens, the clearer it becomes to Yeojin that their marriage is suffering not because they don’t love one another but because they’ve forgotten how to talk to each other which has lead to an unfortunate disconnect. The biggest obstacle is definitely going to be Kamile’s determination to end things. She’s made up her mind and getting her to change her mind is not going to be easy.

“I think I’ve heard everything that I need to hear for today.” Yeojin sets her notepad down on her coffee table, relaxing in her chair a bit before she continues. “The first year in a marriage is usually the hardest, but that seems to have been exacerbated by the fact that the two of you have never lived together before now plus Kamile here has uprooted her entire life and moved to a new country.”

“Saving this marriage is going to take considerable effort on both sides in order to restore the balance you had before you said your vows. Here is what I recommend.”

Yeojin challenges the young couple to separate themselves from their daily lives for the next week and go somewhere remote. A place where it’s just the two of them without any outside influences. Of course, this won’t be just some run of the mill vacation. They’ll have “homework” of sorts that Yeojin will be checking to make sure they complete. Mingyu is all for it but Kamile is much more hesitant. All they’ve done is argue for the past few months and she’d rather not be stuck in a house arguing for two weeks straight. 

“I’ve spent the past year stuck in a house with no outside influences and look at where that’s gotten me. On the verge of a fucking divorce!” Mingyu looks like he has something to say, but Yeojin thankfully stops him before he can rile his wife up any more than she already is. 

“You’re not just going to be ‘stuck in a house’. Think of it like a game of Among Us. The two of you are crewmates and this wall that’s been built between you is the imposter.” Kamile looks at Yeojin as if she’s grown three extra heads. There’s no way she just related this counseling session to a freaking video game. 

“I will also stop bugging you about grandkids for six months if you go.” 

“You should’ve just started there. I’ll go.”

Yeojin claps her hands excitedly. She sounds way too happy to be shipping them off to self-guided marriage boot camp, but Kamile stays silent though that becomes increasingly difficult as her mother’s friends lists out the “tasks” she expects them to complete.

“So here’s the game plan, I want you two to be totally and completely honest with each other as much as possible for the entire time you’re gone. Often times in relationships, both parties will censor themselves as a way to keep the peace but that can be detrimental as it has been for you guys.” Mingyu and Kamile don’t realize it but they both frown simultaneously at the proposal of this honesty idea. Yeojin takes it as a positive sign that they are still in sync on some level. 

“If the thought of doing it all day is too daunting, then start with just one hour. This doesn’t mean that you have to sit and stare at each other for a whole hour and trade statements just act normally but speak honestly. Okay so far?”

“Yeah, I guess.” Mingyu casts a glance in Kamile’s direction, fingers twitching with the urge to reach out to her. He’s had to stop himself several times since she arrived and it’s not getting any easier.

While Kamile’s mind is running wild with all of the potential for disaster that an hour of honesty could result in, Yeojin powers on with the rest of her required tasks. On top of separating themselves from society and this so called honest hour, Yeojin has mandated that they share at least one meal together every day with one of them being dinner on their wedding anniversary. Just when Kamile thought that Yeojin couldn’t possibly pile more on, she brings up the “activity days”. Each of them will have to plan some sort of activity for the two of them to do together while they’re away. It could be as big or as small as they want, but it has to be meaningful. Mingyu draws Kamile’s attention when he pulls his phone out of his back pocket to start tapping away on the screen like a mad man.

“You guys have a lot of preparing to do in order to be ready to leave tomorrow so we’ll stop here for today. I’ll be checking in on you daily to assess your progress and offer any guidance you may need.” 

Kamile is out of her chair and halfway to the door before anyone can blink. The room suddenly feels too small as the gravity of what’s about to happen sinks in. She’d convinced herself that she no longer wanted to be married to Mingyu. She was so sure that her run as Mrs. Kim, albeit short as it was, had come to an end, but now she’s been confronted that her main reason for ending things was baseless. This is not how she thought things would go.

Day 1

The drive from the hotel to the home she’s shared with Mingyu for the past year goes way too quickly for Kamile’s liking. Mingyu had texted her about having to go gas up the rental car so he’s nowhere to be seen when Kamile arrives. She sits in the driveway for a few minutes thinking of the memories saturated into the home that looms before her. The memories she had hoped to create. A stray tear slips down her cheek and she swipes at it furiously. She swore that she was done shedding tears over this but they just keep on coming.

Her pity party is interrupted by an unfamiliar SUV pulling into the driveway behind her. Kamile looks in the mirror to see Mingyu getting out of the driver’s seat. She does her best to erase the evidence of her tears, but the look on his face when she opens her own door says that she wasn’t very successful. 

“Are you-”

“I’m fine.” Kamile cuts him off before he can even finish his question. She stalks to the back of her car to start transferring her bags from her car to the behemoth of an SUV behind her.

“I’ll get them.” Mingyu takes the bag she’d already grabbed from Kamile’s hands, motioning to the passenger’s seat. Kamile, no longer in the mood to speak, wordlessly follows his directive and climbs into the SUV.

It takes Mingyu no time at all to load Kamile’s bags into the back with his own. 

“Obviously this is a sign that we should just leave.”

“I don’t know about you, but I’m not about to let a lost set of keys stand between me and keeping my marriage.”

“Why do you even care? Why are we even doing this?” Kamile screams. She’s been holding this in for far too long and she can’t take it anymore. 

“For better or for worse.” Mingyu’s face is a mask of carefully controlled fury and it’s giving Kamile pause. She’s never seen him like this before. “We promised each other for better or for worse and yet you’re ready to run for the hills at the first sign of trouble. I’ll admit that I’m not perfect and certainly played a role in why we’re here but I’m willing to put in the work to make it better because those vows meant something to me. I thought they meant something to you too.”

Kamile is incredibly taken aback at Mingyu’s fervent desire to stay married. She didn’t think that he cared that much anymore. Without any further protest, she joins him in the hunt for the elusive key to the front door. Fifteen minutes pass and they are no closer to gaining entry than they were when they first arrived. A rep with the rental company calls as they’re checking the bottom of the flower pots that line the front porch and tells them that the keys were mistakenly put in the mailbox. The same mailbox that sits at the end of the mile long driveway. Kamile makes to get back in the car to drive to the end of the driveway but Mingyu suggests walking it.

“It would be faster in the car.”

“You heard that therapist lady. We’re supposed to be spending time together. What better way to do it than by walking two miles?” Kamile walks back and forth as she considers her options. She can resist which will probably lead to yet another fight or she can just suck it up and walk to the mailbox. With a groan, she makes her decision.

“Fine, but if I get tired you’re carrying me.”

“Anything for you, my lady.” He bows deeply which almost makes Kamile crack a smile. She steels her resolve quickly though and reminds herself not to get caught up in his antics. He’s going to have to do a lot more than make her laugh in order to get out of the dog house.

The walk to the mailbox and back is quiet for the most part. Their footfalls join the hum of the wildlife in the woods that line the driveway on either side, but the jokes and playful jabs that used to fill the air between them is noticeably absent. Neither one is sure of what to say or do around the other anymore. Thankfully, the key is hanging on a hook inside the rather large mailbox.

Mingyu fully expected for Kamile to ask to be carried on the way back. She’s never been a huge fan of physical activity so it doesn’t come as a surprised to him when she starts whining halfway back to the cabin.

“I can’t do it just leave me here with my flower friends. I’ll become one with the forest.” Mingyu wordlessly moves to crouch down in front of her. He’s thankful that she can’t see his face to save himself the embarrassment of having to explain why he’s so excited to carry her for the last half mile to the end of the driveway.

Kamile doesn’t hesitate a single second to climb onto his back, clinging to him like a koala. It’s not lost on either one of them that this is the most physical contact they’ve had with each other in months. She’s wrapped around him tight enough that he doesn’t need to support her thighs, but he does it anyway. No way in hell is going to let this moment pass by without taking full advantage. 

They opt to spend the rest of the day just getting settled in. Yeojin had encouraged them to share a bedroom but Kamile is not down with that. Mingyu is disappointed when she wheels her suitcase into one of the guest bedrooms but he takes solace in the fact that she’s chosen the one right across the master where he’d dropped his things hoping she’d follow. He hopes that at some point in the next few days she’ll finally share a bed with him again. 

Dinner ends up being Thai takeout. Kamile has to admit that she’s impressed when Mingyu is able to rattle off her usual order with practiced ease. There once was a time when they’d get Thai food together all the time, but they’re so far removed from that time that she was sure he’d have forgotten by now. They eat without a single word exchanged before going their separate ways to bed.

Day 2

Mingyu wakes up before the sun despite the fact that he slept all of two hours the night before. His hands are on the verge of trembling from all of the nervous energy coursing through his body. Today is the official first day of marriage bootcamp and he doesn’t know what to do with himself. It’s barely seven so there’s no way that Kamile has even attempted to get out of bed yet. Like a thief in the night, Mingyu creeps down the hall to peek into the bedroom that she had claimed as her own. A small smile graces his face at the cute way she hugs one of the throw pillows to her chest. It falters a little when his brain reminds him that she used to hug him close to her like that and not a pillow, but he shoves that depressing thought away for now. He has work to do.

The smell of bacon rouses Kamile from sleep, luring her down the stairs. She grunts a greeting at the man currently tending to a pan of scrambled eggs as she reaches for the stack of bacon on the counter to his left. Mingyu is quick to swat her hand away before she can secure her bounty.

“The eggs are almost done. Be patient.” Kamile whines at being chastised, scowling at the back of Mingyu’s head with disdain.

In the midst of her grumbling, she finally takes notice of his attire or the lack thereof. Saliva pools in her mouth at the sight of his muscles flexing as he cooks the eggs. Her gaze moves lower to his trim waist and the pair of gray sweatpants hanging from said waist in a way that has no business being as attractive as it is. Her fingers twitch with the urge to slide her hands beneath the waistband of those sweatpants to get at that prize she knows is there but she keeps them to herself.

“Earth to Kamile.” Mingyu chants as he waves a spatula in front of her face. She blinks rapidly, doing her best to clear the thick fog of arousal from her mind. The uncomfortable sensation of her panties sticking to her skin is quickly forgotten when Mingyu holds up a plate peeled high with bacon, eggs, and blueberry pancakes.

“Thanks, Gyu.” Kamile murmurs as she takes the proffered plate and heads for the table. She falters half a step when she realizes that she’s let his nickname slip. She prays that he didn’t notice and if he did, she prays he doesn’t say anything about it.

“Gyu? Haven’t heard that one in a while.” Looks like that prayer went unanswered. The shit eating grin on Mingyu’s face makes her itch. 

“I’m hungry and thankful. Don’t push it.” 

They eat in silence. The only sounds are their forks as they make contact with their plates.  Mingyu is kicking himself in the ass for not saying anything but his brain is short circuiting. Thankfully, the buzzing from the intercom by the front door signaling that someone is at the front gate. It’s the special grocery delivery he’d requested for the first of their planned activity days. 

“What’s all this for?” Kamile asks curiously. She pokes through a few of the bags to see fresh strawberries and a variety of other fruits along with a very large bag of rice cakes.

“I was thinking we could have a picnic today for our first planned activity.” His heart races as he waits for Kamile’s reaction to his idea. She munches on a piece of bacon as she continues to pull things out of bags.

“I dig it.” Mingyu feels weak with relief at his idea being well-received. “Why so many rice cakes though?”

“You’ve been a tteokbeokki fiend since we met. Didn’t see the point in depriving you while we’re here if I could just make it for you.” Kamile groans at the thought. She’s more than capable of feeding her own addiction with the spicy rice cake dish, but she’s never been able to make it as good as Mingyu. Despite the fact that she just ate, she contemplating requesting that he make a batch of it right now.

Mingyu grabs a knife to start chopping up some of the fruit. Kamile takes a seat at the island across from him, propping her chin in her hand as she watches him work. She’s always loved watching him cook almost as much as eating the food he makes. She can’t even remember the last time that she was able to do this. It feels like a lifetime ago. Her eyes with sparkle with fascination watching him prepare the food for their picnic. 

“Open up.” Mingyu holds a strawberry up to her lips and Kamile opens her mouth without hesitation. The berry is perfectly ripe and so juicy that a stream of it runs down her chin. Mingyu reaches out to swipe it away, licking the liquid from his thumb. 

“Tasty.” Kamile squirms in her seat at the way his lips wrap around his thumb. Time for her to make an escape before she does something crazy like fuck her husband in someone else’s kitchen. 

Mingyu watches Kamile hastily retreat with barely concealed glee. He’d thought that she’d stopped being attracted to him, but that is incorrect if the results of the little experiment he’d decided to conduct are to be believed. He smiles to himself as he continues cutting up fruit. There might be hope for them yet.

After agonizing longer than he should have over the best spot to set up their little picnic, Mingyu finally picks a spot. He’s so focused on how best to arrange everything on the blanket that he doesn’t even notice Kamile creeping up behind him. He nearly jumps out of his own skin when she clears her throat much to Kamile’s amusement.

“Did I scare you?” It’s clear to her that she did, but making him admit it is too good for her to pass up. 

“No…maybe.” Kamile hums in response, kneeling across from him on the blanket. “That dress is really pretty on you.”

“Thank you.” She mumbles in response. It’s been so long since she’s heard any sort of praise or compliment from Mingyu that she doesn’t even know how to respond anymore. It almost feels brand new. 

Eager to rid herself of the awkwardness blooming in her chest, Kamile grabs a fork and shoves what she thinks is a potato straight in her mouth. In her haste, she fails to realize that the potato she thought she had is actually an onion. Mingyu doubles over with laughter at the pure disgust painted across Kamile’s face. She desperately wants to spit it out but she was raised to believe that spitting out perfectly good food is only a half step below a sin so she powers through. She chugs one of the glasses of fresh squeezed lemonade on the small tray to her right as Mingyu continues to cackle at her plight. 

“You set me up for failure.” Kamile has hated onions from the womb according to the stories her mother told about the smell of onions making her nauseous for her entire pregnancy. Mingyu must pay for this. 

“I purposely cut them big enough for you to easily pick them out. You weren’t supposed to eat them.” Mingyu defends himself breathily as he tries desperately to stop laughing. Kamile reaches out to punch him in the arm which only serves to make him laugh harder.

Silence falls over them again although, unlike breakfast this morning, they’re able to exchange some small talk here and there. The awkwardness that they’d started off with wanes and wanes until they’re left comfortably enjoying each other’s presence for the first time in a long time. 

Mingyu finds himself unable to take his eyes off of Kamile. He’d meant it when he’d said that the yellow sundress she’s wearing looked pretty on her. It compliments the rich mahogany of her skin as if it was made especially for her. The plethora of curls that he’s always loved are full of life as she bobs her head side to side, one of her many habits that Mingyu has always adored. His chest feels tight with the weight of his love for her. He can’t believe that he nearly let her slip away.

“You’re staring, Mingyu.” Kamile says between bites of the strawberry she’d grabbed. Mingyu opens his mouth to answer when a distant rumble beats him to the punch. 

“Oh shit.” 

The two of them hastily toss the near empty dishes back into the picnic basket. Dark clouds are steadily rolling in with the speed of a bullet train. Just when they think they might be able to make it back into the house, their luck runs out. The rain comes down in sheets, drenching them in seconds. Kamile is so thankful that the lack of pockets on her dress lead to her choosing to leave her phone inside.

Kamile is the worst mood when they finally reach the safety of the house. She just went through the stress and physical exhaustion of wash day two days ago and now she has to do it all over again five days ahead of schedule. 

“Did you not check the fucking weather before you decided to turn us into sitting ducks outside?” She seethes. Mingyu arches a brow in confusion at her sudden mood swing.

“Of course I did. It was supposed to be nothing but sunshine all week.”

“Well, clearly that was a lie but I’ve grown to accept that from you. Now I’ve got to go suffer through wash day ahead of schedule.” Mingyu winces at her words, but he’s nothing if not an opportunist so he chooses to ignore it in favor of jumping on the more important statement Kamile just made. 

“Can I help you with your hair?” He asks as he follows his grumpy wife up the staircase. She pauses outside her room to fix him with a glare.

“Absolutely not.”

“Why? I’ve always helped you with your hair.” In his mind, this isn’t a huge request. The Kamile he knew used to be only too happy to allow him to hand over her hair products for him to do her extensive wash day routine for her. He’d actually gotten so good at it that he’d even started doing her younger sisters’ hair whenever he was in the states to visit.

“I barely know who you are anymore and you expect me to let you touch my hair? Not a chance in hell.” Kamile’s voice climbs in volume until she’s practically yelling. 

The last thing Mingyu wants to do today is fight, but enough is enough. Their screams echo through the spacious house as they go back and forth over Kamile’s mistrust of Mingyu. He doesn’t get it and she thinks it’s incredibly shocking that he doesn’t. Kamile’s phone rings somewhere in the bedroom she has yet to enter, effectively interrupting their spat. She leaves Mingyu in the hallway in favor of answering it and groans out loud when she sees that it’s a FaceTime call from Yeojin. She’d forgotten all about the daily check-ins that the therapist had mentioned she’d be conducting. She goes back out to the hallway and drags Mingyu with her to the staircase so they can get this call over with without ruining the carpet in her room. 

“Hello, love birds! How’s everything going?” Yeojin chirps once the call connects. Her hopeful smile falters slightly when she sees the sour looks on her clients’ faces.

Mingyu is only too happy to give the attentive marriage counselor a full rundown of what was happening before she called. Kamile scowls at him the entire time. To hear him tell it, she’s the bad guy but anyone with common sense would’ve left her alone after she’d made it perfectly clear that she was not in the mood to have a conversation. She can’t wait for Yeojin to drag him therapeutically for not picking up on that. 

“Kamile, what do you think lead to you lashing out like that? The rain was not his fault.” The woman in question is thrown off when the outcome she was expecting doesn’t come to fruition.

“He should’ve checked the weather before deciding to have a picnic outside but that’s neither here nor there. I feel like I made it very clear that I didn’t want to talk to him and yet he kept pressing the issue.” Kamile can’t believe that she has to defend herself. Mingyu is so hasty with responding that it sounds like a keyboard smash is coming out of his mouth.

“I would like to make it known that I did not say one word to you when we came back inside until you started yelling at me.” He looks incredibly smug as he watches Kamile’s mouth open and close as she tries to think of a way to refute his statement. “I would also like to make it known that I have been obsessive about every detail of this picnic and I would have never had it outside if there was even a slight chance that it might rain. Maybe if you had a little more faith in me you could see that.”

“And that brings me to my next point.” Yeojin begins. “We’ve established that the infidelity was a myth, so why do you continue to hold on to that mistrust, Kamile? I want you to really think about it and be completely honest with both us and yourself. I’m not saying that whatever you’re feeling is wrong because you are entitled to feel that way but I think it would be good for the both of you if why you feel that way is better understood.”

The theme of the day continues to be silence as Kamile ponders the question put before her. She’s mature enough to admit that not trusting Mingyu while also admitting that she believes him when he says that he didn’t cheat is contradictory. The root of that contradiction is something she’s been trying to avoid ever since she got roped into that surprise therapy session. Mingyu’s alleged infidelity had been her out. Her escape. She had cut and run on the back of a false truth and that reality is something that’s been hard for her to process. Tears well up in Kamile's eyes as she thinks back to Mingyu’s rant about their wedding vows when they’d first arrived. She’d thought that everything was his fault and being forced to face the truth is difficult. Mingyu’s harsh glare softens as he reaches out to wipe the tears from her face as they start to fall. He sighs when she pulls away from him.

“I can see that I’ve found a sore spot so I won’t press this any further today. We’ll revisit this in the future.” Yeojin gives them some tips on how to better communicate before she ends the call.

Kamile is only too happy to end the call so she can lock herself in her room. She doesn’t even come back out for dinner despite Mingyu all but begging outside of her door. He’s not sure what mental dots she connected when they were talking to Yeojin, but whatever it was seems to have upset her more than he’d originally thought.

A weather alert comes through on Mingyu’s phone as he watches TV downstairs. Apparently the storm that had snuck up on them earlier is part of a much larger system of severe weather that changed course and is expected to hang around the area for the next day or two. His first thought is Kamile. She’s terrified of thunderstorms. Always has been. 

He thinks back to a time before they started dating when Kamile was just Vernon’s pretty American friend that he had a huge crush on. She had come to Korea to visit and insisted on sleeping on the couch despite the fact that everyone tried to give up their room for her. Much like today, a nasty storm rolled in and in her panicked state she had accidentally ended up in his room instead of Vernon’s. The realization had been comical and she’d tried to leave to go to the right room, but a sudden clap of thunder that seemed to shake the whole building sent her diving into his arms where she stayed for the rest of the night. She slept through a thunderstorm for the first time in her life that night. A selfish part of him hopes that this storm brings him the same luck he had all those years ago.

Day 3

Heavy rain beats against the window like a prize fighter while thunder rattles Kamile’s brain until she feels like screaming. There aren’t many things that strike true fear in her heart, but thunderstorms are definitely somewhere in the top five things on that list. She’s got her headphones in and her music blasting, but it does very little to drown out the war going on outside. She rips the blankets from her body and makes for the bedroom door to go get in bed with Mingyu but like the fifty other times she’s attempted to do that she stops herself in the hallway. The door shuts with a soft click as she seals herself back in her own personal hell. 

Kamile jolts awake not even aware of when she had even managed to fall asleep. Sweat has glued her clothes to her skin and it’s making her skin crawl the longer she lays there. She groans aloud when she hears the rain still beating against the window pane. The alarm clock on the nightstand says that it’s just barely six in the morning which means it’s been exactly one hour since she apparently passed out from exhaustion. A rumble off in the distance lets her know that she probably won’t be getting more sleep any time soon so she drags herself to the bathroom for a shower. 

Freshly showered and in desperate need of caffeine, Kamile makes for the kitchen. Mingyu’s bare back comes into view for the second consecutive morning when she rounds the corner. His hair is sticking up in odd directions and he looks to be five seconds from falling asleep standing up as he stabs at the buttons on the coffee maker.

“Why are you up so early?”

“You need coffee.” He replies with a yawn.

“Yeah, but I can make it myself. You didn’t need to lose sleep to make me coffee.” She protests. Mingyu turns to glare at her until Kamile raises her hands in surrender.

“If you’re up, I’m up.” Kamile shakes her head at him as she pulls two mugs out of the cabinet. No sense in arguing with him when he’s clearly made up his mind about suffering.

The two of them sit in silence side by side, sipping their coffee, and staring out the window watching Mother Nature do her thing. Out of habit, Kamile leans over to rest her head on MIngyu’s shoulder. She stiffens when she realizes what she’s doing. Mingyu holds his breath. Scared that if he makes any sudden movements the bubble will burst and she’ll move away from him. She surprises the both of them when she lets the tension drain from her shoulders instead, relaxing into him.

“I’m sorry.” Kamile whispers into the void. If Mingyu wasn’t so acutely focused on her every move, he probably wouldn’t have even heard it over the wind. 

“Me too.” He turns his head to softly kiss the top of her head, taking a moment to inhale the familiar scent of her hair products. He never knew it was possible to miss a singular smell so much.

They’ve exchanged exactly four words since they sat down at the table, but they mean so much. There’s a near palpable shift in the air. Like a switch has flipped. An unspoken truce between them that they are in this together. Kamile lifts her head to finish her coffee and Mingyu immediately misses the weight of her head on his shoulder.

“Did you ever finish watching The Originals?” Kamile asks before downing the last of her coffee.

“No, it was kind of our thing so I haven’t watched it since we stopped watching it together.” She hums in response.

“Well, it looks like we’re going to be stuck in this house all day so we may as well pick up where we left off.” Mingyu nearly chokes on his coffee. He can’t even remember the last time Kamile willingly suggested that they spend time together. He pinches himself to make sure he’s not dreaming which she rolls her eyes at. 

“Come on. You’re in charge of snacks.”

For the next eight hours, their butts are glued to the couch. They only get up to use the bathroom and replenish their snack pile. They’ve spent so much of their time arguing that Kamile had forgotten how much she loved just being with Mingyu. Klaus is about to rain down hellfire on some of his enemies when Mingyu’s phone vibrates in the pocket of his sweatpants. Kamile can feel it against her own thigh and it’s only then that she realizes the way that they’ve gravitated towards each other over the course of the day. If she were to get any closer to him, she’d be sitting in his lap. Mingyu had intended to ignore the call, thinking it might be someone from the company despite his strict instructions not to contact him, but he answers it instead when he sees that it’s Yeojin. 

“Well don’t you two look cozy. I was planning to pick up where we left off yesterday, but I’d rather talk about this first.” Yeojin looks entirely too smug as she brings attention to the lack of space between the two of them. Mingyu half expects Kamile to scoot away from him now that it’s been pointed out just how close they are, but she stays put. 

“Can’t a girl just sit next to her husband without being questioned to death?” Kamile asks playfully. Yeojin chuckles and moves on with their daily check in. 

“Fine, fine I’ll leave it alone. Let’s get down to business. Mingyu we didn’t get to hear from you a lot yesterday so I’d like to get into how you felt when Kamile left. What was that like for you?” Yeojin rests her chin on her hand as she waits to see what’s going to come out of the box of emotions she just opened. 

Mingyu briefly realizes that this is the first time he’s talked about that day to anyone as he recounts that dark morning like the nightmare it was. Kamile listens in stunned silence while he tells his story. After seeing the bags under his eyes at Yeojin’s house, she’d figured that he’d suffered just like she had, but she’d never imagined that waking up to find her rings and the note she’d left had affected him to the extent that it did. The guilt that’s been festering in her gut increases tenfold at the thought of him heaving into the toilet.

“I knew things weren’t the greatest but I truly did believe that we were strong enough to get through whatever. Divorce never crossed my mind even once so it killed me to know that it had not only crossed her mind but became a viable option that she ran with. I get why she thought that was the best option now, but then it felt like I’d been blindsided.” Mingyu explains. His words are laced with the hurt that he’s been keeping to himself. Kamile picks at the words screen printed down one of the legs of her sweatpants wishing that a hold would open beneath her and swallow her up. She’s never felt so low.

“Kamile, I see you’re getting emotional. What are you feeling right now?” Yeojin gently pries. Mingyu pulls Kamile into him as his own emotions start getting the better of him. Yeojin is pleased to note that, unlike yesterday, Kamile doesn’t snatch away from him. 

“I was so focused on how unhappy I was that I didn’t consider anything else. It was all about me, me, me.” Kamile stares off into space as she opens up. She’s never talked about this with anyone but her best friends. In hindsight, they might not be sitting where they are right if she’d just talked to Mingyu about it ages ago but then again hindsight is always 20/20. “I visited Korea plenty of times when we were dating, but living here as the black wife of an idol has been so hard. Being from America, I’m used to people treating me different because of my skin color but when people feel entitled to be so invasive about it because of who I’m married to…it’s different.”

Mingyu’s jaw is on the floor as he listens to the struggles that his wife was having right under his nose and he never knew. He noticed that she’d become more withdrawn and hostile but he could never figure out why and she wouldn’t tell him when he asked. It comes as no surprise to him now that she stopped going outside. He can’t exactly blame her. Seventeen is going on their eighth year so Mingyu is a seasoned veteran at ignoring the things people say on the internet. Unfortunately, Kamile didn’t have that luxury. His stomach turns at the tales of her being approached on the street by people who wrongly called themselves fans thinking they were protecting him. The racist comments made about her online. She was suffering and he just let it go on thinking that she was just being moody.

“Do you think that caused you to develop a little resentment for Mingyu and his idol status?” 

Kamile’s first instinct is to say no, but given that they are supposed to be as honest possible she tamps down the lie before it can slip out. She did resent that she’d fallen for someone with such great public notoriety sometimes. It was different when she was just one of Vernon’s childhood friends. The general public didn’t really care what she did from day to day, but now one wrong move turns her into a trending topic and she doesn’t know how to handle it. There are days that she wishes that Mingyu was just a normal person, but then they would have never met and that’s not a reality she truly wants to live in despite her feelings towards him when she walked out. 

“Maybe a little bit but I know we’d have never met if he wasn’t Mingyu from Seventeen so it’s pointless really.” 

They talk with Yeojin a little while longer before she has to go to her next appointment. The air between them is heavy with the weight of the secrets that have come to light. It’s a stifling atmosphere and it’s beginning to drive Kamile insane. She reaches for the remote to restart their show, but Mingyu takes it from her.

“Why didn’t you tell me what was going on?” His eyes are misty as he struggles to hold himself back from crying once more. He could kick himself for not doing his best to shield her from the people that had killed her spirit.

“You’re already so busy and the last thing I wanted to do was add to everything else on your plate.” Mingyu wants to scream. She means more to him than being an idol. She always has. He cups her face in his hands, pressing his forehead to hers. 

“Promise me that you won’t hold stuff inside like that anymore and I promise to be better at not letting you. Deal?”

“Deal.” Kamile’s eyes flutter closed as Mingyu pulls away to press his lips to her forehead. 

He clears his throat before grabbing the remote to resume their show. For the next few hours, conversation is limited to the messy lives of the supernatural beings on the screen before them. The wind still howls. The rain is unceasing. Yet in the little bubble of Netflix and snacks that they’ve created, it may as well not even exist. 

Until bedtime that is.

“You know,” Mingyu says as they file up the stairs. The seemingly ever present bad weather still continues, “…you don’t have to sleep alone. I know you don’t like storms.”

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea.” It would be so easy to take him up on his offer. She could finally get some sleep, but for whatever reason she can’t bring herself to do it.

“Well you know where I am if you change your mind. Good night, Kamile.”

“Good night, Mingyu.”

Kamile stares at the ceiling in despair. She didn’t think it was possible for the storm to get worse but apparently Mother Nature took that as a challenge. She’s starting to genuinely concerned about whether or not the window by her bed can withstand the force of the weather it’s being forced to deal with. Kamile contemplates running to Mingyu’s room but shuts that idea down for the millionth time. Things feel...different between them after today’s call with Yeojin but she’s not sure if they’ve been different enough to justify hopping into bed with him quite yet. 

“This is fine. I don’t need to sleep.” She whispers into the void. 

She’s accepted her fate and made peace with it. Or at least that’s what she thought she’d done. A crack of lighting illuminates the room despite the blackout curtains over the window followed by a thunderous boom so loud it seems to vibrate her very being. Kamile is across the hall before she even has the time to process what she’s doing. Mingyu is out cold when she bursts into the room. Her brain chooses that moment to catch up to what she’s doing and flips on the switch of self-consciousness. Another loud boom has her throwing caution to the wind once more, sliding beneath the blanket to get as close to him as possible without waking him up. 

Kamile lays next to him a trembling anxious mess as the storm rages on. She’s so consumed by her own fear that she doesn’t even notice the man next to her has roused from sleep until he’s wrapped both of his arms around her to pull her into his warm chest. It’s as if the environmental warfare outside ceases to exist the second Kamile’s cheek makes contact with Mingyu’s skin. His presence drowns everything out just like it did all those years ago. The sleep that had been evading her comes quickly in his embrace. 

Day 4

A ray of sunlight shines perfectly through a crack in the curtain to hit Kamile square in the face. She squirms around trying to escape it and gets a frustrated groan in response. It’s then that she registers the weight of the arm that rests loosely across her midsection. The memory of running to Mingyu’s bed in the middle of the night comes rushing back to her. Her first instinct is to bolt, but she’s so touch starved that she finds herself turning in his hold in a bid to get closer. 

“Good morning.” Mingyu grunts something in response that she’s sure he thought sounded like good morning.

He slots one of his legs between hers and unintentionally allows her to feel the morning wood barely contained by his boxer briefs. Mingyu’s even breathing indicates that he’s fallen back asleep. Kamile would love to do the same but all of her attention is laser focused on the hardened appendage intimately pressed against her upper thigh. A damp spot has already started forming in her panties. She needs to get out of this bed now. Kamile squirms and wiggles around trying to get away, but it would seem that her efforts are having the opposite effect. A throaty groan slips from Mingyu’s lips.

“Stop moving.” He mumbles still half asleep. Kamile does her best to stop fidgeting and focus her attention elsewhere, but it’s not working. Her inner muscles clench around nothing as thoughts of what Mingyu could do to her dance dangerously through her mind. 

“I have to pee.” Mingyu cracks one eye open. It doesn’t take a genius to tell that he doesn’t believe her for a second but he releases her anyway. He sighs as he watches her run off to the en suite bathroom. 

Mingyu is noticeably absent when Kamile emerges from the bathroom fresh off a rushed orgasm though hardly sated. She follows the scent of coffee downstairs to find Mingyu bent over digging through one of the crisper drawers in the refrigerator. Back before everything went to shit she would’ve slapped his ass with glee and run away before he could exact his revenge. Good times.

“Did you hear what I said?” Kamile was so focused on his ass that she hadn’t even registered the fact that Mingyu had said anything.

“Huh?”

“I said do you want to get in the hot tub later since we can go outside now?” He repeats as he hands over a cup of coffee already milky and sweet the way she likes it.

“It’s almost 80 degrees outside and you want to get in a hot tub?” She questions slowly to which Mingyu responds with an emphatic yes. “Be honest. Are you just trying to see me in a bikini?”

“Absolutely.” He giggles when Kamile reaches out to smack him on the arm. “Why are you attacking me? Yeojin said we have to be honest at all times.” 

“I don’t think that included being a horny little shit.”

“I’m a man with eyes and a hot wife. I can’t help.” Despite the compliment, Kamile’s mood sours at his words. Mingyu’s freshly honed observation skills picks up on it immediately.

“Uh oh, did I say something wrong?”

“If I’m so hot, then why haven’t we had sex in four months? We used to go at it like rabbits and then one day you just stopped initiating things.” 

Mingyu is quick to point out that he did try to have sex with her plenty of times, but she pushed him away. Eventually, he gave up. It’s almost funny when the dots start connecting in her head. Her personal struggles had originally been why she denied him sex, but then he’d started coming home doused in perfume so she really didn’t want anything to do with him then. Mingyu has never been a very pushy person so he figured he’d just wait her out. He didn’t think that he’d end up in a four month dry spell (and counting), but he was also not about to look for satisfaction outside of his marriage either. 

“How about we save this sex talk until after I’m finished cooking? All of the blood in my body is rushing south and these rice cakes are starting to look like nipples.” Kamile nearly chokes on the water she’d just taken a sip of. Tears pour from her eyes as her body can’t decide if it wants to laugh or die of asphyxiation. 

“Woah, woah! When we said till death do us part I was hoping we’d be farting dust not barely 26.” Kamile is sure that he wants her dead now as her internal war between laughing and choking only gets worse. 

Despite her earlier protests, Kamile finds herself seated across from Mingyu in the hot tub later that evening as they watch the sun set. She fully expects him to try something from the way his eyes keep drifting south to stare at her chest, but he’s on his best behavior the entire time. 

Day 5

“Hello, love birds! I missed you two yesterday. What happened?” Yeojin looks hesitant almost as if she’s scared of their answer. She looks downright relieved to hear that they missed her call because they fell asleep cuddling on the couch. After getting a run down of everything that’s happened since they last spoke, she encourages them to continue sleeping in the same bed together. 

“Couples often downplay the amount of good that just being physically close to your partner can be. If you’re both comfortable sleeping next to each other without a thunderstorm being the driving force, please keep doing it.” Yeojin pleads before ending the call to go to her next appointment. 

Her words hang in the air even after she’s gone. Mingyu looks over at Kamile with a questioning look on his face. It’s clear that he’s after her opinion on this whole shared bed situation, but Kamile doesn’t have much to say on the matter. The two of them have been pretty much inseparable during the day now, but she’s still nervous about sleeping in the same bed together and she doesn’t know how to shake that feeling. She was too scared to think about it last night but without the weather to distract her she’s not so sure if sit’s a good idea.

“What’s going on in there?” Mingyu taps a finger against Kamile’s temple to get her attention. She shakes her head but he’s got a feeling it’s about what Yeojin’s bed sharing idea.

“If this is about sharing a bed, don’t worry about. You’ve got the rest of the day to decide.” She nods in acknowledgement of his point but Mingyu can tell that the gears in her head are turning even faster than before. Her overthinking is going to give her a headache.

Night time comes entirely too quickly for Kamile’s liking. Mingyu has kept her so busy that she hasn’t had the time to sit down to sort through her thoughts. Knowing him, he probably did that on purpose. He always hated her habit of overthinking everything, preferring to live in the moment and make decisions as they arose. Kamile has never had much success doing that which is why they work so well together. He balances her out and helps her weed out the important aspects of the topic at hand to make faster decisions. 

Her mind is racing as they climb the stairs on their way to bed. Mingyu stops at the door to his bedroom and looks at her with such hope on his face that she almost feels guilty for what she’s about to say. His face falls when Kamile tells him that she thinks it’s better for them to sleep in their own respective rooms tonight. Mingyu is a good sport about it, bidding her good night with a lingering kiss to her forehead. 

Falling asleep has never been a problem for Mingyu which is why he’s utterly confused when he’s still wide awake three hours after getting into bed. He’s in danger of pulling the sheets off of the mattress on one side from how much he’s been tossing and turning. 

This is bullshit. I’ve been sleeping fine every night. What’s the difference now?

Mingyu sits up to fluff his pillows. It doesn’t help. He kicks the ceiling fan up a notch. That doesn’t help either. He counts sheep, ducks, and even cows, but nothing is working. The longer he tries to avoid the obvious the more awake he seems to be. Sleeping in the guest room most nights to avoid arguing had taught him to sleep alone. Now that he knows what it’s like to hold her again, he’s ruined. He wonders briefly if Kamile is awake too. Is she just as restless too? 

He tosses and turns for the better part of another hour. The clock on his phone says that 3 a.m is quickly approaching and Mingyu caves. It takes less than ten seconds to cross the hall to her room, but practicing his explanation as to why he’s in her room at ass o’clock in the morning takes much longer. He knocks twice and pokes his head in.

“Kam?”

“You can’t sleep either, huh?” She asks without even turning to look at the man poking his head into her bedroom. 

Mingyu nearly collapses from sheer relief when Kamile simply reaches behind herself to lift the blankets after he confirms that he’s been unable to fall asleep just like her. He wastes no time sliding in behind her. Before he can even get it out of his mouth to ask, Kamile reaches back to find his arm, pulling it across her waist. 

“Good night, Gyu.” Kamile whispers. Her words are slurred as if she’s already half asleep. Mingyu kisses her shoulder, letting his lips linger against her skin.

“Good night, Kam.”

Day 6

A feather light touch to her lower lip is what prompts Kamile to open her eyes long before she’s ready. She pulls back slightly once her vision clears and she realizes just how close Mingyu’s face is to her own. He even has the audacity to laugh at her surprise.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t think you’d wake up.” He’s not sure how long he’s been watching her sleep, but he’d do it for the rest of his days. The pesky organ in his chest skips a beat as he holds Kamile’s gaze like a lifeline. He mulls over his next words very carefully, preparing for a possible rejection just as he did when he came to her room in the middle of night. “Can I kiss you?”

“Please do.” She whispers into the inch of space that separates them. 

Mingyu closed the gap slowly as if he’s giving her time to change her mind. Kamile sighs when his lips finally touch hers. One of his hands comes up to untie the silk scarf tied protectively around her head so that he can bury his hand in the curls he’s always been obsessed with. He uses his grip on her to guide her head as he deepens the kiss. 

She rolls onto her back and pulls him with her so that his much larger frame nearly covers hers entirely. Mingyu lets his primal instincts take over. Too lost in the way her lips are moving against his own. A groan rattles his chest when she squirms beneath him until his hips are situated between her thighs. The thin fabric of their respective underwear are the only barriers separating his aching erection from the place she needs him most. He can’t resist the urge to grind himself against her. If his brain wasn’t so clouded in lust, he’d probably have the mental capacity to feel a little embarrassed at just how quickly he’s risen to full mast. Kamile is floating somewhere beyond cloud nine when Mingyu’s hand that had been cradling her head moves to lightly grip her throat instead while the other rhythmically squeezes and pushes at her ass in time with his thrusts. Her head is tipped back in ecstasy as he kisses along her jaw.

It takes a herculean effort that he wasn’t totally sure he was even capable of, but Mingyu separates himself from the panting woman in his arms. He rocks back on his heels and Kamile’s eyes are immediately drawn to the tantalizing bulge at the apex of his shapely thighs. She reaches for him but Mingyu grabs her wrist before she can get her hands on him. He lifts her hand to his lips, pressing kisses to the back of it.

“Trust me when I say that I would love nothing more than to ravage you right now but if I’m going to be inside you again, I want you to have my ring on your finger.” Kamile starts to speak but stops when Mingyu presses his index finger to her lips. He traces the outline of her kiss swollen lips almost as if he’s in a trance. “I don’t want you to make a decision that you’re not totally comfortable with just because you’re horny. I want you to really want it. I want you to really want us. Now get up so I can feed you.”

A vulgar comment about what she really wants him to feed her crosses Kamile’s mind as Mingyu playfully swats at her thighs to get her moving. She respects his resolve and keeps it to herself but only barely. 

“It’s super nice outside. Wanna go for a walk?” Kamile would actually rather stay inside and enjoy the comforts of the air-conditioning, but Mingyu looks so excited that she finds herself giving in. She disappears upstairs to put on her sneakers mentally kicking herself for being so whipped for the man waiting for her by the patio door.

Mingyu laces his fingers between Kamile’s

They happen across a small stream during their casual stroll around the property. Kamile stops to look at Mingyu to see if he’s on the same wavelength as her. 

“Let’s do it.” 

Their shoes are abandoned under a tree near the creek before running full speed into the water.  The cooler temperature of the water feels like heaven. Kamile squeals when Mingyu splashes her with water. Mingyu suddenly lifts her over his shoulder, using the hand that’s not holding on to her to splash Kamile with more water. She’s out of breath from laughing when he finally lets her down only to steal the rest of her breath away when he surprises her with a kiss. 

“What was that for?” She’s slightly dazed both from the lack of oxygen and the searing kiss he’s just laid on her.

“Because.” He smirks at her before swooping in for yet another kiss.

“And that one?”

“Because part two.” Kamile giggles at his corniness even though she does her best not to give him the satisfaction of knowing it gets to her. Mingyu’s smile somehow gets even bigger at the sound of her laughter. He digs his fingers into his sides to prolong her laughter for his own enjoyment. 

They spend a little longer frolicking around before finally heading back to the house to shower and start on dinner. Kamile unsuccessfully lobbies to shower together but Mingyu is adamant in his refusal. He’s positive that the self-control he exhibited earlier that morning used up all the restraint he could’ve ever hoped to have for the next six months. There’s no way he’d be able to deny her. He kisses her quickly before running off to his own bathroom. 

Mingyu is totally and completely in love. He absentmindedly pushes his food around with his fork as he listens to Kamile rant about the mistreatment and near erasure of some X-Men character named Darwin. He’s got absolutely no idea what she’s talking about but she’s so passionate about it that he can’t help being fascinated. 

“Darwin’s whole entire superpower was that he could adapt to anything and you mean to tell me that robots designed to adapt to and counteract the powers of mutants were built off of Mystique’s DNA? Absolutely not. I might be a little-” Her rant is cut short by her phone ringing on the kitchen counter where she’d left it. She grumbles about being interrupted as she gets up to go get it. It’s Yeojin. 

Kamile returns to the table with her phone, choosing to sit in Mingyu’s lap for their daily check-in. The marriage counselor should get a kick out of that one. Sure enough, their seating arrangement is the first thing that Yeojin comments on. They take turns updating her on everything that’s occurred since they last spoke with her though they leave out some of the more sordid details. 

“This is what I like to hear!�� She exclaims with an excited clap of her hands. “It seems that everything is going well right now. Is there anything we haven’t talked about this week that one of you wants to go over? If not, I’m comfortable ending the call here.” They say their goodbyes after confirming that they feel like they’re in a good place right now. Yeojin makes them swear to call her the moment they think they need her but she doubts that she’ll be hearing from them  until their follow-up appointment in a few days. 

Kamile makes to get up to return to her own chair but Mingyu stops her. She shrugs and reaches across the table to grab her own bowl. He smiles to himself as she resumes the rant that she’d been in the middle of before Yeojin’s call. He still has no idea what she’s going on about but he’s content to just listen to her vent. 

Day 7

Anxiety twisting her gut into knots is what eventually pulls Kamile from the bliss of sleep. Mingyu’s side of the bed is empty and she’s thankful for that to a certain extent. She heads for the shower, taking extra care with everything she does until she realizes how cowardly it is to stall like this. Deciding against putting on actual clothes, Kamile opts to just pull on one of oversized hoodies.

“Good morning!” Mingyu leans over to kiss her sweetly before turning back to the pan he’s tending to on the stove. He’s been doing that a lot since yesterday. Just randomly stealing kisses like he’s making up for lost time. 

“Just so you don’t get freaked out when they show up, I’ve got a private chef coming to cook us dinner tonight.” Mingyu mentions as they sit down to eat breakfast. She’s pleasantly surprised that he’s put in so much thought into their anniversary even though he’s yet to directly mention the fact that today is their anniversary. 

Today is their last day in their little safe haven away from the world and the status of their marriage is still technically up in the air. They both know that a decision needs to be made before they leave in the morning, but neither of them has brought it up. It’s like they’ve been tip toeing around the giant elephant in the room and expecting for it to just disappear on its own. 

Other than Mingyu making tteokbeokki, extra spicy and extra cheesy just the way Kamile likes it, they don’t really do much throughout the day. A majority of their time is spent tangled in each other on the couch just talking. They reminisce on the days when they’d first started dating. Kamile nearly falls off of the couch in a fit of laughter at Mingyu’s spot on impression of Vernon’s face when he’d caught them sneaking a few kisses in the dorm kitchen one day. Each memory is sweeter than the last and Kamile is overcome with the urge to make more of those memories. Now that she’s been able to let go of the anger and misplaced resentment that had made her bitter, she actually has hope in that possibility.

The heels of the platform pumps she’d decided on for the night click with every step as Kamile slowly descends the staircase. She’s determined not to let her natural clumsiness send her to the hospital on such an important day. Mingyu holds his hand out to her when she reaches the last few steps. He looks every bit the international superstar that he’s known to be.

“You look absolutely stunning.” Warmth spreads across her face at the whispered compliment. She barely manages to return the favor. Kamile’s nerves are starting to get the better of her and she hopes and prays that there’s wine on the table so that she can drink them away.

Thankfully, Kamile notices a bottle of white wine chilling in an ice bucket next to the table when Mingyu leads her into the dim dining room. The dinner prepared by the chef looks delicious and she’s can’t wait to taste it but wine is her first priority if she expects to make it through dinner without bolting. Her first glass is tipped down her throat in record time much to Mingyu’s amusement. He refills without hesitation though she chooses to actually sip that one as intended.

Conversation flows easily between them as they eat. However, the topic that deserves their attention the most continues to stew on the back burner as they talk about literally anything else. As nervous as Kamile was when she first came downstairs, Mingyu is doubly so. He’s done his almighty best to convince Kamile that their marriage is worth saving without outright begging her. Based on the past few days, he’s incredibly hopeful that she’ll come back home with him tomorrow and stay there but she’s always been a wildcard. You never truly knew what move she was going to make until she made it. The small velvet box in his pocket feels like a stone. During a lull in the conversation, Mingyu makes his move.

“Kamile,” He reaches across the table to grab both of her hands, “Four years ago you agreed to be my girlfriend and I thought that surely that was the happiest day of my life but then you said yes to being my wife and I knew then that I was wrong. You’re the most precious part of my life and I was a fool for not making sure that you knew that every day for the last year.”

Mingyu pauses to get down on one knee next to Kamile, pulling the ring box from his pocket. Her ring is nestled in the tiny velvet box. It sparkles brilliantly even in the dim lighting. “Kamile Kim, will you do me the honor of staying my wife?” 

Tears well up in Kamile’s eyes as she nods her head yes. She’d made countless lists and weighed her options, but in that moment she throws all of that logic to the wind. At the end of the day, Mingyu is the one. He always has been and he always will be. She can’t believe that she almost threw everything away over her own assumptions and insecurities. Mingyu doesn’t hesitate to slide the piece of jewelry onto her trembling hand when she holds it out to him. He stands, pulling her with him so that he can kiss her senseless. 

“I’ve been waiting to say this until I knew where we stood but….happy anniversary, babe.”

“Happy anniversary, Gyu.” She whispers against his lips before kissing him deeply once more. “Now take me upstairs.”

“Your wish is my command, my lady.” 

[jengajives]

Couple of OCs in this one to make it work, but I really wanted to do something with second/third age Maglor gettin too close with Ulmo and the Oath sneaking up bite him

“So... you’ve seen it?”

Maglor didn’t look up when he spoke. Just went on dragging his fingertips through the sand, drawing swirling patterns on the beach around him. Ulmo sat cross-legged on a rock watching him, letting the wind blow warm and gentle raindrops through both their hair. A beautiful evening for a talk in the rain.

“Seen what?” he asked absently. There wasn’t anything familiar enough in the way Maglor stiffened at that to be alarming.

“It,” the minstrel said again, softer but more insistent. “You know. The...” He trailed off. The fingers on his right hand, twisted with scars, gave a feeble twitch.

The burn marks reminded Ulmo what they were probably talking about and so he nodded.

“Oh, yes. I’ve seen it. I keep it safe, you know. You needn’t worry yourself.”

A long silence. Maglor pressed his hand into the cool damp of the sand.

“Yes,” he mumbled distantly. “No need to worry...”

Silver armor and royal blue banners. Swords that gleamed under the light of the stars.

A figure atop a mountain peak, cloaked and hooded, and the blood-red torchlight lighting his brothers’ faces in the high court of Tirion.

Constantly the words of the Oath boomed now in Maglor’s head, where it had slept for many hundreds of years. Constantly the weight of his father’s spirit pressed his mind.

He would have left the coastline and forsaken sight of the sea, but the glimmer of silver and gold he often saw now beneath the distant waves kept him fixed upon the shore. To turn his back would be to give up the Oath and suffer the ultimate pain of retribution.

He could not. He could not. He could do nothing but cower on the edge of the water, too afraid to act.

“No one will withhold a Silmaril from the house of Fëanor,” said his father within the deeps of memory, “be it Elf, Man, or Vala.”

Ulmo.

His burned fingers trembled and twitched.

Ulmo, his friend. Sheltering the Silmaril at the bottom of the sea.

He buried his eyes beneath quivering hands and tried not to let the connection form.

The Oath waited ever so patiently.

The water was still and glassy black, reflecting a sky of stars that reminded Maglor of the ages before the sun and moon. His days in Valinor, before any curse or oath had torn his family and soul asunder.

He liked the pool. It was always cool and tranquil like a vast sheet of glass within stone’s throw of the sea, and when the world was younger he used to come here to remind himself that he was a lord of the Noldor no longer; look at his reflection and see nothing but a wanderer without people or honor to plague him.

Tonight, though, he saw frost-white armor glinting ghostly beneath his coat, and the light of Aman burning fierce in his face, and in his eyes the soul of the two trees mingled and tamed within depths of stone.

Maglor cast a stone across the pool to shatter the image, unable to stop the quivering that spread up from the root of his spine.

“Is it far?” he asked softly.

Ulmo didn’t stand there in the gangly form he was so fond of, but Maglor still knew he was listening.

The water lapped at the shore like gentle laughter.

“Far enough, but well within my reach.”

When Maglor turned to look at the sea the entire horizon was turned to streams of molten gold and silver chasing each other endlessly within the ocean’s cold jewel.

“Where are we going?” Riston asked eagerly as he trotted behind.

Maglor had forgotten he was there. His mind was busy with other things.

“Going?” he repeated. “When are we ever going anywhere?” But the words were numb and he could not stay the path his feet now took of their own accord.

“I just thought,” huffed Riston, scurrying over the sea-hewn boulders to try and keep pace, “that we would be avoiding places like that.” He pointed upwards.

On the nearby clifftop, a tower fortress blazed with torchlight red and fell.

Maglor let his eyes wander down the cliff face to the dark gap at its foot.

“Yes,” he said dimly. “We should.”

And he hurried along, desperate now to come quickly to the cave and dispense with this mania.

If he could just see what he was seeking, the need for it would pass.

It would pass.

The cavern was cold and dripped with seawater, and in all the ages of the world it had not changed. From the tower above, the stone seemed to vibrate with raucous shouts and music, but the dark stone, crusted with barnacles and grasping things of the sea, was fast and familiar under Maglor’s feet. He moved eagerly now, driven forward by the desperate need to prove himself wrong, forgetting entirely the fact that Riston trailed behind him in wonder.

In the darkest back of the cave, a pale green light shone just enough to illuminate a small stone chamber, wide and high-roofed, and the shelf carved carefully into its back wall.

He knew the place, because he had labored there cutting stone to forget the world, because he had poured Maglor Fëanor’s son into this rock to forget him.

On the shelf rested gleaming white armor, and above it on the wall was set a pale sword with a green gem set into its hilt.

They looked polished and new, as if he had left them yesterday and not thousands of years hence.

It felt as though everything warm left Maglor in a single rush and he was nothing but cold stone himself, staring blank at those arms and wishing he could forget them.

If all was fair, Glírlang’s curved blade should still drip with blood for every life it had taken. The blood of his kin and his friends who had done nothing but stand between him and his father’s prize.

Maglor fell to his knees.

Yes. Yes, it was over now. There was no Oath that could hold him to kill again. No promise he had made would drive him any longer. He was not his father. He was not the elf prince who had sailed from Valinor long ago. Yes, he was no one. No one.

“Maglor-!”

Slowly he turned.

Riston was still here, but oddly enough he was not the only one.

When Maglor saw eyes gleaming cold with greed and malice he thought at first of goblins, and of his brothers, but these were only Men with stout swords who crept in on thick boots that cracked the clinging shells beneath them. They spoke Westron, roughly, though it took him long seconds to understand it.

“Trespassin’,” one said. His blade flashed in the green light of the gem. “Little vagabonds trespassin’ on our lands.”

“Oi,” said another. He pointed to the shelf with the tip of his sword. “Puttin’ some shiny armor down here so’s you and your friends can come back and kill us with it later?”

“That don’t make no sense.”

“Shut up! They’re trespassin’, and you know trespassers gotta die!” The first man’s pale lip curled into a grin. “Besides. I want me that nice silvery sword, and they’re in the way of me takin’ it.”

They moved closer, and Riston stumbled back with a squeak. His Westron wasn’t good enough to understand what was going on.

“Maglor!”

They would both die. What would Maglor do? He could do nothing. Well enough for him to die on the point of a sword, but Riston was barely more than a child.

Well enough for him. Well enough to die here.

“Look at ‘im squirm!” roared the one man, and with fluid ease he cast Riston to the floor and planted a boot on his chest to keep him there. “You say I gut ‘im, boys, or take ‘im up to the tower and let the others have a go?”

Laughter echoed off the walls of the chamber. Maglor’s back hit cold stone but all he could hear was Riston screaming his name.

“Maglor!” cried Elros as the orcs swarmed around him, arm thrown protectively in front of his brother, both little ones wide-eyed and trembling with fear. “Uncle Maglor, please!”

The sun glinting through cloud near the sea. Orcs guffawing to find the little lords of the Noldor unguarded.

So many ages ago and Glírlang dripped with blood.

Fire rushed across the surface of the pool with a deafening roar.

Glírlang pushed in through the back until the tip of the blade came right out the other side.

Blood gurgling through punctured lungs.

Maglor pushed and the Man fell, toppled over, the sword slipping easily from the hole it had put in him, resting with such familiarity in Maglor’s hand.

His Glírlang. So familiar.

He turned to the other Men, standing right over Elros, blade glinting and body slipping automatically into a defensive stance.

No, no, it wasn’t him. Elros wasn’t here, he was long dead now.

It was Riston. Little Riston.

Yes. Riston.

The sword in his grip brought him back through centuries of honey-slow time.

“Step back,” he said steadily. Many years had passed since last he used Quenya, but it flowed now easily past his tongue and filled the whole of the cavern with a crackling power. “You will not touch him.”

The Men scrambled away, faces frozen in awe and terror, for it seemed to them that they had just watched a wandering beggar transform before their eyes into a fell warrior of old, shining with the light of countless centuries and the power of ancient kings, and his sword was alight with green flame.

His enemies fled before him like the cowardly goblins had in ages past.

Torchlight. Blood-red torchlight in the night without end. The courtyard of Tirion stained crimson.

“Let no creature stand between my house and a Silmaril,” Maglor said softly, speaking the same words to the cavern that had sealed his fate those ages ago. “Be it Elf, Man, or Vala.”

He heard the dull roar of the ocean outside, and left Riston behind to cry gently in the earth’s cold embrace.

The waves slammed the shore with fury, but to Maglor, all seemed silent. The stillness of the night utterly complete.

Nothing to shatter his fevered thoughts as he screamed a challenge on the wind to the Lord of the Sea.

“No one will withhold a Silmaril.”

No one.

Vala.

“Maglor.”

He looked up and Ulmo was there, standing in the ankle-deep water in the tall, gangly form he’d once kissed. The sky had grown cloudy but he couldn’t remember when, and the distant line of the sea was alight with fire.

Maglor raised a trembling hand and put the tip of his sword to Ulmo’s chest.

“You... will... give it to me...”

“This is mad,” Ulmo said, very calmly. “Maglor, you don’t have to do this.”

Sea spray brushed against his cheek in some semblance of a fond touch, but he was not swayed.

“Give it to me,” he hissed, his own voice like the touch of hot metal to water. “Or I’ll kill you.”

“Don’t do this,” Ulmo said again. When he stepped back Maglor took a swipe at him, but it was easily blocked by a forearm coated in rough blue carapace like a crab’s. Rusted chains clinked against each other with every movement Ulmo made.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he said. “Don’t make me hurt you.”

“You would keep what’s rightfully mine!”

The hissing flame and shadow of Balrogs. His father’s eyes burning brighter than the sun with his last words.

“Thief!” Maglor screamed, batting Ulmo’s shield arm aside to press Glírlang to his breast again. “That Silmaril is mine!”

Ulmo straightened to a new height. His brow, crusted with salt and living stone, grew hard and fell. His simple clothes hardened to plates of chiton armor.

“Do not make me hurt you,” he said again, but now his voice boomed like thunder on the plains and waterfalls and waves breaking against unyielding stone. Behind him the sea rang with the blowing of horns in the deep, shaking the ground, sending rushes of icy water up to swirl against the solid cliffs. Lightning split the sky. Rain began to fall in cold sheets.

“Deliver me what is mine!” Maglor roared against the wind. “Or I will take it!”

Glírlang flashed white light back at the sky. Maglor felt the might of his brothers behind him. The strength and glory of Valinor rushing through him as if he had just newly set foot on Middle-Earth. His blade moved in a blur of green and white, and when he returned again to ready stance, Ulmo stood before him with a gash across his face slowly beginning to seep seawater.

When he touched the tear in his skin, the water turned blood red.

“So be it,” Ulmo said at last, and with the rush of the sea, the tall glorious form was gone, and in its place was a tower of water adorned with sharp yellow teeth stained scarlet, and lengths of rusted silver chain caught in the swell, and a million blue-green eyes that saw everywhere water touched the world, that saw into Maglor’s very soul.

The roar of a tidal wave filled his ears and the flood took him.

Direction became utterly meaningless because he was spinning too fast to recognize any way at all. There was no color but the black of fathomless depths, and Glírlang was torn from his fingers, and teeth tore his flesh, and he spun alone suspended in the might of the sea.

Well enough, to end this way. Conquered at last.

Maglor screamed and water rushed in to fill his lungs. All around him and within him Ulmo spoke.

“If it is the Silmaril thee desire, then take it.”

Before his eyes, the brilliance of the Two Trees locked in a jewel without equal.

“Take it and see where it leaves thee. Let it drive thee mad. Let thee fall as thy brothers have fallen.”

Maglor stretched out his fingers. It was there. It was there, he could feel it, he could almost taste it...

“Take the heirloom of thy house,” Ulmo rumbled, “and let it destroy thee.”

Maglor screamed and the water played the sound he couldn’t make as Being began to fade.

Everything went still and silent.

When air rushed again into his lungs, all he could do was sob.

“Why didn’t you do it?!”

On his knees. Water dripping slowly from his hair, his fingers in the sand.

“Why do you keep me here?!”

The blinding light of the Silmaril resting in a pool in the sand. Glírlang at its side. Maglor took up the blade and threw it with all his strength into the sea, then fell again with his eyes turned from the jewel, his whole body shaking with sobs.

“I don’t want it! I don’t want it! Please!“

Still he was here. Still he lingered.

“Just let me go,” he breathed to the motionless air. “Just take me! I don’t want it! I failed! Just let me go!”

Ulmo did not answer. No one answered.

The waters were still and the Silmaril lay there watching.

Maglor screamed at Ulmo to take it away, but the Lord of the Sea would not answer.

And his mind crackled and folded like the flesh of his hand.

[calmcal]

kissed opportunities

Summary: The three times that Calum almost kisses her and the one time he finally does

Word Count: 5.3k

Parings: calum x fem!reader , luke x fem!oc (briefly mentioned)

Warnings: fluff, bad writing (?) i literally suck, not even calum can save this !

Note: you like that punny title, missed opportunities, kissed opportunities. get it? eh. it’s been over a year since i’ve written anything for this blog, can you tell i’m rusty? but i miss writing, and calm has me feeling some sort of way + quarantining is driving me crazy!

masterlist

⠀ 

··· ♡ ↷

⠀

ONE - FLIP THE MONOPOLY BOARD

“I should feel bad about this” She admitted as she watched Calum move the little dog character around the board, until he landed on the dark blue property. The enjoyment in his features slipped away when he realised what was going to happen. A loud groan escaped his lips as he watched the wide grin spread across her lips. “But I just don’t”

Calum watched as she sat up slightly, straightening her back against the couch from where she sat on the floor, hand reaching out and laying palm up, a strand of her hair falling down the side of her face as she leaned closer to him.

She had tied her hair out of her face and into a ponytail before they had started playing, saying that monopoly required a serious amount of focus that only a ponytail could provide her. As the game went on, the ponytail slowly slipped further and further down her neck, until the hair tie fell from her hair and was forgotten about. Strands of hair were now falling down her back and over her shoulders, flyaway strands falling against her face. Every once and a while she was try and blow the strands from her eyes, but she made no move to fix her ponytail.

There was a glimmer in her eyes, the unique shade seemed to lighten as she giggled happily, they were a shimmering river of pure delight. Her cheeks had a pink hue shading them, her skin looking warm and inviting. She had a glass of red wine clutched in her hand, the red liquid that sloshed around in the glass was the same liquid that was painting her lips, making the plump skin look almost red in the dim lighting.

She was getting to the stage of wine drunk. Her movements were becoming slow and less calculated. Her voice had lowered slightly, but it was still effortlessly smooth and still gave Calum goosebumps. Her lips were constantly offering his that smile, where the corners of her lips were turning up just slightly, and he could just see a peek of her teeth between her lips.

She looked cozy pressed against the base of the couch, a dark blue hoodie thrown over her frame matched with a pair of grey sleep shorts, and pair of Calum’s socks attached to her feet. She had complained about her toes being cold around an hour ago, Calum couldn’t ignore the little pout of her lips as she whispered if she could borrow some socks. How could he was no to her when she looked like that, with those wide eyes and those pretty little just begging to be kissed.

“Pay me loser” She snickered as she nudged Calum.

Calum’s thoughts seemed to fade from his mind when he realised she was staring at him with a shit eating grin, hand still held out in front of his face, fingers wriggling. He spared a look down at the board, seeing the dog standing proudly on the square while the words mocked him. He scowled at the board, his lips pouting slightly as he looked at the small pile of money next to him.

“You’re cheating” Calum announced as he turned to look at her, arms folding across his chest.

She let out a loud scoff of laughter, throwing her head back slightly. It gave Calum a chance to take in the smooth skin of her neck, the sight of her bare skin sent Calum in a was that a neck really shouldn’t. Her musical laughter rang in his ears, the sound was joyous.

“Just because your losing, doesn’t mean you can accuse me of cheating Cal” She retorted as she smoothed her hair away from her face, raising a brow at Calum, her wine glass pressed against her bottom lip.

Calum didn’t realise how much he liked when she said his name until right now, hearing the familiar nickname easily slip past her lips. He just wanted to listen to her say his name on repeat.

Calum’s tongue ran across his bottom lip as he watched her place her wine glass on the table, keeping her bright eyes on his face.

“Just calling it as I see it”

Her brows furrowed in mock anger, eyes squinting in a playful glare. She leaned further into Calum’s personal space, but he didn’t make any attempt to stop her, in fact he found himself just inching himself closer to her.

From this distance Calum could smell the light hint of her favourite perfume, something sweet and the tip of his nose, lingering on her skin and weaving through her hair. There was an undertone of something homely and warm that clung to her, beckoning Calum to breath in the inviting smell. It just undeniably her.

“You should just call bankrupt now” She said with a teasing grin, nodded her head along with her words. “And I might just let you off with minimal face rubbing”

She didn’t really pay much mind to the fact that Calum was only part way listening to her teasing, she just tilted her head as she glanced at him. Calum watched her lips as she spoke and as they pouted slightly when she stopped. Her bottom lip jutting out a centimetre or so, if he wasn’t watching the pink skin so intently he would have missed it. His breath caught in his throat as his eyes quickly darted up to her eyes, seeing that little sparkle up close now, her soft gaze trained on his face.

Calum didn’t realise he was moving closer to her, until there was maybe an inch or so between the two. He could feel her warm breath brushing against his lips, he could feel her eyes staring at his own, but he didn’t look up from her lips. He felt a shuddered breath fall from his lips, it would only take a subtle move from either of them, just a small nudge of her head or a swift jut of his chin and they would be kissing.

But before Calum could even think about moving, his hand that was gripping the table in front of him suddenly gave way.

He jumped away from her as he saw the upturned monopoly board, the paper money spread across the floor and their little figure lost somewhere under the table.

“Calum!” She shouted in loud giggles as she looked at the mess the tanned boy had made. “You can’t flip the board when you lose”

Calum’s cheeks were flushed a deep red, a large hand reaching behind to rub at the skin of his neck, embarrassment clearly written over his soft features. He could make out her pink cheeks as she leaned against the couch, hands gripping her stomach as she tried to contain her laughter.

“I guess I’m a sore loser after all” Calum tried to cover his embarrassment.

“You think!” She cackled.

⠀ ··· ♡ ↷ ⠀

TWO - LUKE BECOMES THE COCKBLOCK KING

“Remind me to never agree to host again” Calum muttered under his breath as his calloused fingers tried to untangle the pile of string lights that were sitting in front of him.

She was standing across the room, bright blue streamers hanging in her hands as she stands on a step stool, hanging them against the wall.

He paused his detangling at admire her. She was wearing a pair of tight fitting blue jeans, they were sticking to her like a second skin, be could make each and every define part of her legs. His dark eyes seemed to linger a little longer around her butt, the denim just seemed to define what was already there. Calum wanted to thank who ever invented denim, because it was a sight he was sure to never forget. Her cream peasant top was hanging off her shoulders, and each time she lifted up the streamers her top would edge up slightly, exposing the soft looking skin of her midriff.  The sight of her exposed midriff was slowly driving Calum to insanity.

He could hear her snort loudly, pausing her decorating to peer over her shoulder at him.

“Remind me to never agree to help you set up again” She made a small movement, waving the blue streams in his direction. “Who even hangs streamers at a party anymore?”

The question was more of a scoff as she unrolled more of the crape paper in her fingers.

“Parent’s throwing their children a birthday party” Calum answered her rhetorical question, watching as she gave him an annoyed look over her shoulder.

“And grown men who act like children apparently”

Calum let out a fake gasp of offence, crossing his arms over his chest as he pouted at he, watching as she shook her head at his child like behaviour.

“Luke was the one who wanted the streamers” Calum admitted, throwing his band member under the bus.

He enjoyed the way she threw her hands up in the air as she muttered a string of foul insults towards the lead singer. His stifled his laughter as she continued to whisper to herself.

“I’m going to strangle him with his streamers when he gets here” She scowled as the streamers became twisted with her angry movements.

“I can’t let you strangle Luke, we kinda need him ya know” Calum said bemusedly.

He watched as she shook her head, turning on the stepping stool to look at the bassist, she pointed an accusing finger in his direction as a wide grin pulled at his lips.

“I can and I will”

Calum shook his head, letting the still tangled light fall from his long fingers. He brushed his hands against his denim clad thigh, wiping away the sweat forming on his palms.

She was still facing him, watching as he slowly pushed himself up from the couch. The streamers hanging limply in her hands, he could see her fingers carefully trying to turn the streamers so they were straight again.

He took short strides across the room, his sock clad feel sliding easily against the hard wood flooring. He stopped maybe a foot away from her, giving her a second to see that he was now standing in front of her. She gave him a wide smile as she pulled at the streamers.

She finally got a full view of the outfit he was wearing. A white shirt with an old band logo stretched across his chest, the picture was starting to fade but it added to his appeal. His signature dark pants that she was sure was one size to small for him, not that she was going to complain, in fact she really REALLY like them. His hair was cut short, not quite buzzed, long enough for her to imagine what it might feel like the run her fingers through it.

“You wanna untangle the lights, I’ll put the rest of this crap up” Calum asked as he took another step, the tops of his toes were brushing against the step stool.

Calum reached his hand out to take the rolled up end of the streamers from her hand, his hand brushing against hers lightly, just a mere brush of their fingers.

“It’s a little funny that a bassist can’t untangle a bunch of wires” She said in a feathery tone, smiling at Calum.

Calum gave a scoff of protest at her accusation, but it seemed that the words died right on the tip of his tongue. Her hands reached up to wrap the loose piece of the streamers around his neck, letting it rest against his broad shoulders, she let go of the blue coloured crape paper, but her hands seemed to linger on his shoulders. Her palms grazing against his shoulders, the action let up his skin under his shirt, he could feel her warm skin though the fabric.

He stared blankly up at her, her head standing an foot or so taller now that she was on the step stool, while she gazed softly at his brown hues. He could almost see the gears turning in her head, already feeling her hands slowly slipping away from his shoulders. Calum wasn’t ready for her touch to slip away, and in a rapid movement, his hands gripped her elbows, keeping her hands pressed to his shoulders.

He watched the way her eyes widened at the sudden feeling of his large hands gripping her elbows, calloused thumbs rubbing slowly against her skin. The way her pink lips parted just a fraction as she took a deep breath. An affectionate grin took over his lips as he saw a pinkness creep up on her cheeks.

From this close Calum could see the light dusting of glitter colouring her eyes, a shimmering shade of gold, blending with a matte looking black that Calum thought suited her. He could see the light coating of lip gloss covering her lips, a peachy scent milling around her lips, and he wondered if it tasted as nice as it smelled. He could even see the subtle glow of her highlighter on her cheeks.

“Calum”

She whispered his name so softly, sweet as honey.

Calum’s lips parted. She leaned down an inch, eyes locked on his. Calum’s dark hues were stuck on her shiny lips, he watched the way they parted as she took a breath. She was inciting him and she wasn’t doing anything but breathing, Calum thought he might just be going crazy, but a good kind of crazy.

His hands slipped from her elbows, dipping down to barely touch her clothes waist, hands just hovering above her. She squeezed his shoulders, as if telling him it was okay. His large hands gripped her hips for the first time, thumbs just dipping under the edge of her shirt, he could feel goosebumps lining her skin.

He leaned her body against his, his chest just brushing hers, a breathy sight fell from her lips that made Calum was to scream. He liked that sound.

And just as their lips brushed against each others, there was a loud crashing sound, the front door banging loudly against the wall.

“Who wants a shot!” A loud and tipsy Luke stumbled through the door, followed by a much more sober and apologetic Lola.

She and Calum quickly sprung away from each other, like they had gotten burnt. Her eyes turned down to look are her bare feet, while Calum blankly stared at their intruding house guests.

“Were you two about to-” Luke had a shit eating grin on his face as he wagged a long finger between the pair.

“I’ll take that shot” She announced, smoothing down her top, sparing Calum a single look as he moved out of her way, quickly making her way into the kitchen.

“Nice going big mouth” Lola snorted as she smacked Luke’s arm, following the quickly retreating girl into the kitchen.

“You two were totally about to kiss man!” Luke’s lanky figure strides towards Calum.

Calum give Luke a sarcastic smile, wrapping an arm around the younger body shoulder. “I’m so going to kill you” Calum laughed playfully, gripping Luke’s shoulder tightly.

Luke let out a forced laugh before darting out of Calum’s grip, shouting his girlfriends name. Calum chuckled at his best friends behaviour, ignoring the empty feel in the pit of his stomach.

⠀ 

··· ♡ ↷ 

⠀

THREE - CAKE BATTER NEVER LOOKED SO PRETTY

“Midnight cake baking is an essential when you’re drunk” She explained as she took of a box of cake mixture.

Calum had followed her into the kitchen like a lost puppy, taking in her words like they were his religion.

There had been a whole group of them at the pub, just having a drink and catching up, eating good food and listening to a live band. One two many drink had lead the pair to discussing their favourite midnight snacks, and she had admitted that she liked baking cakes at midnight, simply because they tasted better. Calum had now reason to say anything different, because he hadn’t baked and ate a cake at midnight.

She said that is was a disgrace and it needed to be righted if they were going to keep being friends. The pair of them had decided, in their partially drunk minds, that baking a cake was a necessary activity they needed to do. Which is why they were standing in her kitchen, a box of devil’s cake in her hands.

“Open this while I find a bowl” She smiled as she passed Calum the box.

Calum took the box from her hand and watched her stumble around her kitchen in search for a big enough bowl. He opened up the box and took out the darkly coloured dry mixture. He eyed the dry mixture, his clouded thoughts were all coming together in one big idea. He slyly opened the plastic packet and dipped his fingers into the powder.

“I think this one-”

Calum didn’t even give her a chance to finish her sentence before he twisted on the heels of his feet, flinging a small amount of the dark powder into her face. Her eyes squeezed shut as it landed on her face, her lips pursed slightly. He could stop the loud laughter that fell from his lips, it was high pitched and full of pure happiness, or maybe drunken joy? Either way, Calum found it hilarious.

"Calum!” She exclaimed as her eyes opened, locked onto a giddily laughing Calum.

He tried to stifle the laughter, but it started back up whenever he looked at her. And just beyond the laughter induced tears that were forming on his eyes, he could see the corners of her lips turning up slightly.

“You’re wasting the cake mix!” She continued as she snatched the bag from his hands. “Besides you did it wrong”

“What?-” Calum asked.

His brows furrowed in confusion at her words, but he didn’t have long to think them over because she reached a hand into the mixture and pulled out a handful and dumped it over his head.

Calum could see it falling from his hair and down his clothes, caking him in a light dusting of brown. He didn’t even hold his laughter back, clutching his stomach. She was laughing too, loud and occasionally a snort would fall from her lips.

“We- we not gonna have a cake if we keep going” Calum laughed.

“Oh, but I want cake” She pouted.

“Then stop throwing that stuff at me!”

“But you look pretty”

Calum rolled his eyes at her playful behaviour. While she tried to gather her all other the place emotions, she took a deep breath, there was still a wide grin her lips that just didn’t want to go away.

Calum liked when she smiled like that. The smile that she did when she was genuinely happy, the really wide and toothy smile that she said made her look like a child. Yeah, he liked that smile. He liked it even more when he was the reason it was there.

“Okay, cake time” She announced, placing the cake mix and bowl on the counter, trying to gather the other ingredients they were going to need.

Calum poured the dark mixture into the large bowl and prodded it with his finger, squishing the lumps in the mixture. She came to stand beside him, hands full with other ingredients. She dropped everything on the counter in a messy fashion, taking Calum’s hand out of the mixture, while making a tutting noise.

“Don’t play with your food” She reprimanded in a teasing tone.

“Okay mum” Calum rolled his dark eyes.

She snorted as she began to mix in the wet ingredients. Calum watched her carefully, the way her brow would furrow as she tried to put the right amount of everything into the bowl, sober Calum would think they looked like a pair of idiots. Drunk Calum kind of thought that too, but he was more interested in the way she pursed her lips when she was concentrating.

The pouting pink flesh was eyes catching, and all Calum wanted to do was grip her pretty little face and kiss her until he couldn’t breath.

She mixed it all together until it turned into an appetising brown looking sludge, an overwhelming smell of sweetness entering the kitchen. Calum wondered if it was the cake or her that smelled so nice.

She dipped a finger into the mixture, before bringing it up to her lips. Calum watched her do this with wide eyes and a slightly agape mouth, his heart skipping a beat as he watched her clean her finger of the cake batter.

“Better at midnight, I’m telling you” She insisted, turning to look at Calum.

Her head flopped to the side slightly, hair falling over her shoulder, her eyes were glazed over but they still looked bright. His eyes immediately fell to her lips, like they always did when she was standing this close to him. Brown hues falling to the plump skin, seeing pink clash with brown. There was a thin line of cake batter against her bottom lip, his hand itched up to swipe the batter from her lip, to feel the soft skin under his calloused finger. Or to kiss the batter away, slanting his lips over hers and sucking in her bottom lip.

Calum wasn’t sure if he wanted to taste the cake or her lips more. Maybe both?

But he didn’t.

“You got a little-” Calum made a motion his his own finger, brushing it against his bottom lip.

“What?” She asked slowly, squinting her eyes at him.

“You got cake batter here” He repeated the motion with a smile.

“Oh here” She reached a hand up and swept her finger across her lip, brushing more cake batter across the pink skin, which was now stretching into a wide grin. “Oh wait I think I got it” She reached up again and brushed the batter down her lip and onto her chin.

Calum smirked as he watched her do this. He kept his eyes glued onto her face and he lazily dipped his fingers into the cake batter.

“No you missed a spot” He lathered the batter across her mouth and down her chin. He snicked as her lips parted widely in surprise “I think I got it”

Her tongue darted out to lick some of the batter from her mouth. “You know, you should really try this”

“If your offering-” She cut Calum off by smearing the batter down his cheek.

She cackled joyfully as the surprise on his face. Eyes glimmering with mischief.

“Oh it’s on now” Calum announced as he scooped a handful of batter into his hands and threw it at her.

The brown batter stuck to her skin and dripped down the front of her top, landing on the floor right in front of her feet with a loud-- plop. She gasped loudly, moving her hands to her eyes to move the batter from her sight.

“You don’t know who your messing with Hood” She said in a matter of fact tone, flinging to mixture she wiped from her eyes at Calum, who watched it land on his black shirt.

They both stared at each other soundlessly, eyes boring into each others, lips turning up into matching grins. He saw her eyes dart down to the bowl on the counter, before returning back to him. They both scrambled to grab and handful of batter and started throwing it at each other, the brown mixture went flying everywhere.

Calum had it dripping down his face, the front of his shirt was covered and a large splatter was cover his jeans. She had it dribbling down her chin and smeared across her neck, there was a large splotch of batter on her shirt that dripped all the way down to her shorts, her bare legs were covered in chocolatey spots.

The floor was covered in the batter, piles of sweetness coating the tiles, as well as the counter behind them.

She smeared more of the batter across his chest, laughing gleefully when he gasped. Calum took the bowl and held it above her head as she laughed, watching what was left pour down her hair in thick waves.

“Oh my god!” She cried out loudly as she batter slipped down her back, leaving a cold chill on her skin.

Calum snickered at her reaction. She moved her hair from her face, slicking it back, her hands coming back covered in chocolate. She reached up and cupped Calum’s cheeks in her hands, wiping the batter onto his tanned skin. She grinned at him, pearly whites standing out against the dark batter than covered her lips.

“You look really sweet right now” She teased as she licked some of the batter from her finger.

“Wanna taste?” Calum asked, the words falling from his lips before he had the chance to think about them.

Her brows rose high on her forehead, clearly surprised by Calum’s statement. Although she was surprised, she made no attempt to move, in fact she may have even inched a little closer to him.

Calum wanted to slap himself then and there, he felt like such an idiot for saying that.

She couldn’t help the slight flutter that her heart gave. It was beating so rapidly, her breath was caught in her throat. Her eyes carefully took in his features, his rounded cheeks and his shard jawline, his warm brown eyes and his full and plump lips that were covered in batter.

God, she really wanted to kiss him.

God, he really wanted to kiss her.

They both stepped forward, not really knowing if the others was thinking the same, but each of them saying screw it because they really just wanted to kiss each other. But their timing was anything but good, because her foot got caught in a pale of batter and slipped right out from under her, her hand reached out to stop her from falling, gripping onto anything in her reach. Which happened to he Calum’s hand. Taking Calum down with her.

They were anything but graceful, laying on her kitchen floor, covered in cake batter and their own embarrassment.

Tonight just wasn’t their night.

⠀ ··· ♡ ↷ ⠀

FOUR - FOOT POPPING FIRST KISSES ARE A THING

Three times. Three freaking times!

There had been three times where Calum had been inches away from kissing her. The thought of their almost kisses was driving him crazy, all he could think about lately was kissing her. Every thought he had was about her, if you could look inside his head, not an inch of it wouldn’t be clouded with thoughts of her.

It was making writing music impossible.

Every song he wrote sounded like pure garbage, or it was about an angry he was that he couldn’t grow a pair and just kiss her.

He could tell it was driving the rest of the band crazy too.

“Dude” Ashton had sat down across from him.

Calum didn’t look up at his best friend, he kept his face pressed into his hands, eyes squeezed shut.

“You’re over thinking this” Ashton tried to explain, leaning forward. Calum peeked though his fingers at his, newly dyed, dark haired friend.

“You just need to not think about it, just do it”

Calum scoffed as he moved his hands away from his face, folding his arms across his chest.

Easier said than done.

“I can’t not think about, she’s just- she- god what the fuck is wrong with me” Calum complained as he leaned back in his chair.

“Over thinking” Ashton chimed in, making the tanned boy glare at him.

Ashton chuckled light heartedly, not even fazed that Calum was glaring at him. “Look man, you like her, and not that you can see it but she really likes you too. I think you guys are just stuck in this never ending circle of should I”

“You just need to break the circle, grab her face and just kiss her, no think required. Cause thinking isn’t an option for you right now”

“Thanks mate”

Ashton smiled smugly at Calum. But he knew he was right, they were skirting around each other like teenagers, both to scared to do what they want.

“Fuck” Calum muttered under his breath. Pushing himself up, he straightened out his shirt before speed walking out of the room.

“Where are you going?” Ashton called from behind him.

“I’m not thinking!” Calum called back.

.

“I just- god, thought I was passed this boys are confusing stage” She said through the phone.

She could hear Lola sigh though the phone. This was the third time this week she had called to vent about her feelings for Calum, about how they had almost kisses again last night, and she just didn’t know what to do.

“I’m gonna be frank here, boy likes girl, girl likes boy, sex”

“Please don’t quote Vampire Diaries to me” She retorted, trying to suppress the smile on her lips. “And I’m talking about kissing Calum, not wanting to jump his bones, not that I don’t want to do that- because I do-”

“Are you even listening to yourself Y/N” Lola interrupted her, laughing at her friends rambling. “Just kiss him, then freaking jump his bones so I don’t have to hear you complain about how he doesn’t like you, because believe me he does”

She shook her head. “I just don’t- I- I really hate feelings”

Lola snorted at her comment. “No you don’t, you’re just a chicken”

“I’m not a chicken”

“Yes you are”

“No-”

“Yes”

She opened her mouth to reply when she heard a heavy knock on her door. Her brows furrowed. “Hey, can I call you later?” She asked Lola.

“Don’t be a chicken!” Lola shouted though the phone before hanging up.

“I hate her” She muttered to herself.

She put her phone down on the table, when another heavy knock sounded again. She got up from the couch and walked to the door, turning the handle slowly and pulling the door open.

“Calum?”

She wasn’t even given a chance to comprehend that he was standing at her front door, when his large hands gripped her cheeks, tugging her face into his and slanting his lips over hers.

Shock took over her body, her whole being seemed to freeze for a second or two as her brain tried to catch up with what was happening.

Calum freaking Hood was kissing her.

His hands slowly slipped from her face and into her hair, tugging gently at the soft strands, prompting her to indulge herself. She let out a sort of sigh as her eyes fluttered shut, the feeling of his plump lips brushing against her own, the warmth of his mouth nudging her. Her hands reached out to grab the leather jacket that stretched around his shoulders, bring his body closer to hers.

He stumbled into her body, his hands wrapping around her tresses as he tried to push himself even closer. Calum smiled against her lips, feeling her lips moving against his, a passionate embrace that neither of them wanted to end. She was so involved in the kiss that she didn’t even feel her foot lifting off the ground, it was only an inch above the ground but it was off the ground none the less.

Calum pulled away first, forehead pressed against hers as he took a deep and much needed breath.

“Sorry I made you wait so long” He whispered against her lips.

Her eyes fluttered open to look at him, to take in the flush of his cheeks and the little glimmer in his brown eyes, the slight sheen of her lip gloss covering his lips.

“Worth the wait” She smiled softly, tilting her chin to connect their lips again.

[epiphany-of-a-madwoman]

The Last Dragon | The Witcher

Chapter 16 | Steel for Humans

Pairing: Geralt of Rivia x Targaryen!OC

Summary: Visenya Targaryen is the eldest and only surviving child of Rhaegar Targaryen and Elia Martell. When Robert Baratheon’s rebellion was won, instead of being slaughtered by the Mountain like her mother and siblings, she was saved by Ned Stark and taken as his ward. Years later, after she’s killed at the Red Wedding, she wakes up outside Blaviken. Now she finds her destiny intertwined with the White Wolf on her quest to go back home.

Warnings: Skeevy bandits being Skeevy bandits

Word Count: 7.5k

Note:  Click here to read the previous chapters ♡ Also! My tag list is open!

He's looking at her again. 

She can feel it; a shiver up her spine, the prickling feeling in the back of her mind to be alert for something, all telltale signs of his eyes on her. Every time she turns to meet his gaze, to try and decipher the whys and what's in his eyes, he looks away. And in the midst of all of her uncertainty, she's sure of at least one thing, he's still reeling from her confession, despite it being weeks since her name, her real name slipped from her lips. He doesn't say that he's still trying to piece together the puzzle, but he doesn't need to. She can see it in the way he carries himself around her, his lingering eyes and stumbling words. 

More than a few times he's called her Jane, instinctively, if she were to have to guess. And each time she just simply raises a brow at him before he swiftly corrects himself, eyes wild and uncertain, unable to directly look into hers. She never gets mad or annoyed, the exact opposite, in fact. She's never seen this side of Geralt that resembles a fumbling boy who still isn't a man yet; all rosy cheeks and shy conversation. Normally Geralt is so put together, constantly in control of the situation, and yet, something as simple as a name change is all it takes to throw him off. 

Another thing she's certain of is just how much she enjoys the way he says her name, the smooth Valyrian name effortlessly slipping past his lips. It's like a symphony, a sound not even the most renowned of bards could replicate. But she'd never tell him that. 

She continues staring at her face in the old mirror, dust and cracks speckling across her reflection. But she looks past it, staring at her eyes that are like liquid gold, and her fair skin, nearly glowing in the dim light. She frowns, lines appearing around her mouth - lines that weren't always there. Under her eyes are small wrinkles, hidden by the dark circles from countless sleepless nights in the least ideal spots, but she can pick them out a mile away.

She's older, that much is obvious, but how much older is not.

She used to count each day, the wall near the bed in her old room in Blaviken covered in small little lines meant to represent every time she fell asleep. She stopped keeping track after the town burned to the ground. At first, it was too painful to think of anything beyond the basic necessities of her survival. But then time drifted away, things grew easier the longer she spent with Jaskier. She smiled more, laughed more, and felt lighter than she had in a long time. And now she finds herself in an odd position, unsure of how much older she is. 

"Geralt." She doesn't remove her eyes from her reflection. He grunts, a sign that he's listening. Always a man of few words. 

"How long has it been since Blaviken?" She hears a sharp intake of breath before it's released back into the air. It's silent a moment longer.

"You don't know?" Geralt asks, skepticism and disbelief abundant in his voice. 

"No." She reaches a hand up, tracing the new scars that mare her face, they're faint, nothing more than a whisper on her face. To everyone else, they're only visible in the flicker of a candle at the right angle, but she's always aware of them.

"Fifteen years." 

Her hand drops, limp at her side. She turns a flurry of hair and wind, facing Geralt with an odd expression on her face. She can't discern how to feel with that revelation. How is one supposed to react upon figuring out the fifteen years have passed, and they don't even know it? She wants to protest, to scream that he's lying to her, and demand that he tell her the truth, the real truth and not some practical joke. But the longer she thinks on it, her eyes resting on Geralt's stone face, the more it makes sense. 

She thinks back to Winterfell, trying to remember the smells of her previous home. To remember how everything felt under her fingertips - whether it be in the warm castle or the icy cold. She tries to recall how everyone looked the last time she saw them, tried to visualize their exact heights in comparison to hers, to recall small imperfections that made them not smooth porcelain dolls. Only then, when she focuses so hard on doing just that, does she realize she can't even remember their faces. She can see their general shapes, her mind recognizing them as either Jon, Robb, or anyone else important enough to remember. But when she tries to zoom in and make their faces clearer, they're nothing but humanoid-like blurs. 

Her face twitches, in discomfort or shock, she's not sure. 

"Huh." It's the only thing she manages to say, unable to force her mind to think of another response or to form the words with her mouth. She's utterly frozen in place. 

She almost allows her mind to wander, thinking of what may have happened to the rest of the Stark children. Would they have found peace and safety, or would they have blown away like leaves in the wind, desolated by monsters and grief? But she banishes the thoughts before they could form. What would be the point? All it would do is pull her into another bout of melancholy, the same suffering she was drowning in whilst hiding away in Blaviken. So she does what she's best at; she takes all unpleasant thoughts and ghosts and locks them into a little box in the back of her mind. Leaving it to collect dust until it's long forgotten. 

"You didn't know that?" Geralt asks, breaking his statue-like posture to step closer to Visenya. She doesn't answer, she simply shakes her head, her breathing shaky and unsteady. 

'Fifteen years.'

The number echoes in her mind, it's on repeat and she finds herself unable to escape it. He's silent, Geralt is always silent. But she welcomes it, more so now than ever. 

Her fingers begin to count down as she counts up, the numbers hardly above the breaths she takes. She looks down at the ground, counting the grain in the wooden floors. 

"21, 22, 23, 24…" 

She pauses, finishing the math in her mind. She opens her mouth, cautiously.

"Thirty-five… I'm thirty-five years old now." It makes sense, her face appears much older than when she first arrived, the lines and crow's feet not just a result of poor living conditions and battle scars. 

"Is that a bad thing?" Geralt asks. Visenya looks up at him. His facial expression remains much the same as before, but his eyes glow with a hint of curiosity. Not that he would ever admit to it if she ever called him out on it. 

"No, I just-- never thought I'd make it this far," Visenya says, a sardonic grin pulling at her lips that looks more like a grimace than anything. 

"With the life, you've had--" Geralt starts, his voice low and raspy, but Visenya cuts him off with a bout of laughter that sounds more like knives than bells. He closes his mouth, simply raising a brow at Visenya. 

"You have no idea, Geralt of Rivia." She shakes her head, the grin-grimace hybrid still on her face, yet her eyes tell a different story. They're despondent and regretful, and Geralt can't understand why.

"Then perhaps you should tell me." Suddenly Visenya is no longer laughing. She stares at Geralt with a type of intensity he's never seen in her eyes before. And before he can bring himself to get used to it, to allow himself to sink in the new atmosphere that surrounds them, she dissolves it, eyes turning warm and mischievous once more.

"Give it another fifteen years, and maybe then," she says, feather-light laughter following her words. She turns once more, hair whipping behind her as she continues to stare at her reflection. Her hair is longer, reaching a few inches below her breasts. Her roots are slightly grown out, allowing a little bit of shining silver to peek through the mud brown. She still can't decide if she wants to continue dying it or not. But she tucks that thought away, not wanting to unpack everything that comes with those thoughts. Not after she just packed away unpleasant thoughts that are of a similar vein. 

"Plus, I've told you more things than I've told anyone else, and still I feel as though I know nothing of you," Visenya says, turning around once more, moving away from the dingy mirror. This causes Geralt to laugh - it's rough and dark, the complete opposite of Visenya's. It causes shivers to rush up her spine and a fluttering sensation to form in her stomach. 

She passes by him, a hand ghosting over his shoulder. She exits the room and Geralt swiftly follows. His footsteps are much heavier than hers; she's like a soft summer breeze while he's the terrifying winter winds that threaten to blow everything down. 

They walk the length of the hall, down the winding staircase, and out of the inn where Roach is patiently waiting for them. Throughout their small journey, they maintained not only the same distance between one another but the same space. 

She only pauses upon reaching Roach, a hand resting on the mare's side as she gently pets her. Visenya looks at Geralt, who now stands precisely two paces away from her - one pace closer than he had been five seconds ago. 

"Fair is fair," she says, raising her brows. A grumble of a laugh escapes his mouth, so quiet it could almost be mistaken for the world itself shaking. His laughter causes his eyes to close for a brief second before he opens them once more.

"I can't argue with that. In exchange for what you've told me, I'll tell you about my first hunt. Does that sound like a fair bargain?" he asks, a certain lightness in his eyes that quickly disappears in the time it takes for her to blink and open her eyes again. She holds a hand out, and he places his own in it. They shake their hands, two times to be exact. 

"Sounds like a deal to me."

oOo

"I'd only just left Kaer Morhen, a new Witcher who was naive enough to think I could save the world. I came across a gang of men who were about to rape a young girl, a few of them holding back the girl's father." Geralt says, his voice quiet and somber, but she could hear each word perfectly. They're both riding on Roach, with Visenya in front and Geralt's arms slung loosely around her as he holds Roach's reins. The mare doesn't need much guidance though, she just follows the winding road ahead of them, and neither Geralt nor Visenya corrects her. 

"And then what happened," Visenya asks, resisting the urge to turn around and look at Geralt. He's so good at obscuring any emotion or feelings when he speaks, often opting to talk with a monotonous voice. While hilarious when dealing witty one-liners, it makes it near impossible to discern how he feels. His eyes on the other hand are a completely different story. 

To most, they may seem as empty and dead as a poorly done painting, but Visenya can read him like an open book - spotting small flickers of different emotions. After all, Visenya often employs the same tactic to appear as cold and unfeeling as possible, it's only natural she sees through when others try to do it to her.  

"I killed them, the bald man with the rotted teeth and all his friends. The girl's father fled right after--" Geralt says.

"And the girl?" Visenya says, unable to stop herself from interrupting him. When he promised her a tale of his first hunt, this isn't exactly what she expected, yet she finds herself enthralled none-the-less. A part of her wonders how different her history might've been if Geralt lived in Westeros. What would be different, if anything at all. She knows with complete certainty that the Geralt she knows would have no problem defeating the Mountain. But if Geralt lived in Westeros instead of here, he wouldn't be a Witcher. Which means he'd have none of the capabilities that make him superior to mortals. So her train of thought is moot and pointless. 

But she can't help the twitch of a smirk on her lips as she imagines Geralt slicing the Mountain's head off his body; the cut clean and precise. And instead of a girl about to be raped by a slimy bandit, she sees the Mountain looming over her mother, and Geralt saving her just in time. 

"What happened to the girl?" This time she doesn't fight the urge to turn and look at Geralt. She turns her head just enough to see the right side of his face. His eyes are far away, recalling memories that are probably lifetimes away. The mid-day sunlight aggressively shines onto his face, but it's deceiving in its harshness for it provides no warmth. The air is cold and icy, freezing dead leaves and small twigs into timeless statues that will melt when summer comes again. 

"She was covered in the bald man's blood, but unharmed, not that you'd know that with how she reacted. When I approached her, she screamed, vomited, and then passed out," Geralt says. His tone remains even, not portraying any feelings. 

She turns her head to face the road once more, her lips pursing in concentration. 

Would her mother have reacted the same if Geralt swept into her chamber like an angel of death, white hair his halo, and the blade strapped to his back his judgment? Or would she have thanked him, tears streaming down her face as she held her screaming children? 

"And how did that make you feel?" she asks, not daring to turn and look at him once more. She fears if he takes one look at her eyes, he'll see all the thoughts furiously swimming in the flames that dance in them. She can feel him shrug more than see it, the movement of his shoulders causing his arm to brush against her back. 

"Like shit," he simply replies. Visenya scoffs, a grin pulling at the corner of her lips. 

She opens her mouth, a witty quip on the tip of her tongue when she's cut off by a scream. It comes from her right, in the forest, but not so deeply hidden that the dying trees and frostbitten leaves muffle the noises. Her posture turns stiff like a board, the hairs on her body standing up straight. 

"Did you--" she begins, only to be cut off by another scream, this one more guttural than the last, yet not beast-like in nature. Visenya turns, catching Geralt's eyes. He nods, acknowledging that the shouts aren't just in her head, the manifestation of deeply hidden thoughts resurfacing. He hears it too. 

Without allowing a moment of hesitation or for her mind to catch up with her actions, she jumps off of Roach, unsheathing her blade. The dragon hilt is cold as ice, but soothing to the heat slowly rising in Visenya. 

A loud thud follows only a moment later, signaling that Geralt is following her lead. She'd feel touched by his lack of protest when it comes to her charging headfirst into the unknown, but the situation is far too dangerous for any distractions, even if only for a brief second. 

Blood rushing and heart pounding, she turns to ice as another scream echoes in their ears. It's closer this time, sounding as if someone is shouting while choking on their blood. Visenya's pace quickens, her heart racing faster as adrenaline floods her body in preparation for the potential fight that seems more likely than not as each second passes. The grip on her sword tightens as she clenches her jaw. Dozens of battle maneuvers and tactics fly through her mind, all the years of training; both in Winterfell and with Geralt blaring in her mind. 

Another scream, this one deeper than the previous. Visenya picks up her pace again, eager for this confrontation to be over before it even begins. She glances behind and Geralt is right behind her, sword unsheathed and face battle-hardened. 

For the fifth time, another scream rips through the trees, but now that they're closer, Visenya hears the rustling of what sounds like people running. The muffled noise of jeers and mocking voices trickle into her ears.

People, they're dealing with people, and not literal monsters. Though most times, people can be the worst type of monster there is.

With a deep breath that she quickly releases, Visenya reaches a handout, pushing away the branches that separate her and Geralt from the apparent attackers. 

'The blood of the dragon is not afraid.'

The phrase enters her mind without thought. But instead of banishing it away, she embraces it. She imagines Queen Visenya beside her, a stern expression on her beautiful face, lips curling into a snarl that would perfectly mimic Vhaegar. 

When she opens her eyes, nothing could have prepared her for what she saw. A group of six or so humans wielding various types of weapons that were dripping with blood stand in the small clearing. The source of the screams quickly became clear; a small family of elves with blood dripping from various wounds. A male elf lays on his stomach, unmoving; meanwhile, a woman cowers in a corner, pressing her body against a tree, three children with her. The smallest of the three were huddled on either side of her as she attempted to soothe them, tears streaming down her bloodied face. Meanwhile, the oldest, only looking to be seven at the most, stands in front of her, the branch from a tree between his unsteady hands. He holds it as if it's a blade, determined to protect what remains of his family. 

The humans are bandits and not very successful ones; with worn mismatched leather armor and blades that look seconds away from rusting. But they wear sneers on the face, showing rotted teeth and foul words. They snap their attention toward Visenya who enters first and watch her for a moment as she watches them, taking in the scene before her.

She expected the worst, but nothing could've prepared her for this. It's too familiar, too close to home. She feels her vision go red, blood pumping in her veins, and skin nearly burning.

"Look at this boys, no need to find a nearby brothel. Looks like our entertainment found us," one of the men says, a twisted smirk curling on his cracked and bleeding lips. Visenya's face contorts into a look of disgust. The other men around them laugh, cackles that sound more like screams than sounds of delight. 

Visenya tightens her grip on the hilt of her sword, teeth grinding as she clenches her jaw tighter. She takes a single step forward. 

"Pretty thing you are, and you look like a fighter. Good, I like it when they fight," the man continues, undisturbed or intimidated by Visenya.

"And I like it when bastards like you are six feet under. Lucky for me you will be, soon," Visenya says, her voice gravelly and harsh like a growl. She smiles, her mouth looking more like the snarl of a wolf that's moments away from attacking. 

The man doesn't falter, instead, he barks out a laugh, pointing his finger at Visenya as he does. 

"Funny," he says. He nods his head at a few of the men, turning his attention back to the elf and her children. "But be a dear and be quiet. I have some business to attend to." He lifts his blade and begins approaching the woman. The child holds his stick up high, about to try and defend his mother when the bandit just shoves him aside, knocking the kid on the ground. A loud crack resounds in the clearing as his small head collides with a protruding rock. 

The elven woman screams, crawling to try and get as far away as possible, clutching her kids tighter against her. Tears stream down her face as vigorous as a waterfall. Dread fills Visenya, all her thoughts consumed by panic. 

"No!" Visenya screams. She moves to charge him, but a grimy hand holds onto her, keeping her from running. She turns towards the man, and wildly swings her blade. It misses, but in dodging it, he loses enough of his footing that he lets go of her.  

He goes to grab her again, but before he can try, a blade slices into his neck, causing blood to gush out of the wound before he drops to the ground. Visenya doesn't have to look to know it's Geralt, but she does anyway. A deep scowl is set on his face, eyes blazing in a way that's eerily similar to Visenya's. He growls, eyes assessing the scene before them. He glances at Visenya, then moves his eyes to the leader. Visenya nods, understanding the nonverbal cue. 

Save the girl.

"A fucking Witcher!" The man spits out. He spits turning away from the elf, no longer able to ignore the threat right in front of him. "Just kill them both, I hear Witchers make good coin."

Then everything descends into chaos. The rest of the bandits charge Visenya and Geralt, but she pays them no mind. She nimbly dodges each one of their attacks, leaving them to Geralt. Her eyes stay on the leader, who's eyes rest solely on her as well. He grabs a second blade from the ground, ripping it from the hands of the dead elf. He strides towards her and she meets him halfway in a clash of blades and fury. 

Their blades meet in a cross, the clang of metal ringing in her ears. She scowls as he snarls, spittle flying into her face. 

She jumps back and pivots to his side. His gaze follows her, body turning as she does. Like a butcher cutting a pig, he hacks down at her. She parries it with her blade, pushing it away as if it's nothing more than an annoyance. His second one comes down a moment later and she dodges to the other side, the blade slicing through empty air. A third swing, his other hand comes down, this time towards her face. She crouches low to the ground as she brings her blade up to block the hit, using her lower position to steady her body as she pushes against him, both hands holding onto the hilt. 

He presses down and she pushes upward, arms shaking from the exertion.  She screams, the sound eerily similar to the roar of a dragon, moments before it decimates its enemies with its fiery wrath. With a burst of power, she shoots up, causing him to stumble back. 

Right and left, she slashes her blade at him. His leather armor takes the brunt of the first hit, but the second one manages to piece into flesh. She snarls as he screeches in pain. Clammy hands begin to shakily smack against his belt, desperately looking for a blade to try and stick her with, but she doesn't give him the chance. 

She kicks him in the abdomen. The force of it slamming his already weak body against a tree. There's a loud crack as his body makes contact, another howl of pain escaping his mouth. 

"Stupid bit--" 

Her blade stabs into his neck, stopping him mid-sentence. Blood pours out of his mouth, a gurgling sound replacing his scratchy voice. 

"Fuck you," Visenya says. She then spits at him, the saliva landing on his chest and disappearing into the blood. 

She sighs, the sounds of fighting die down, and she turns around. Geralt is standing in the center of the clearing, blood speckling his armor and dripping off his blades, but luckily none of the blood is his. Her tense shoulder loosens slightly, the adrenaline leaving with the threats. She tosses her blade to the side, making a mental note to clean it later. 

Turning to her right, she sees the elven woman with her children still cowering in the corner, all three of her children around her, the eldest of them knocked out cold. Now that no threats are looming over them, Visenya allows herself a moment to inspect the three of them. 

The mother looks to be middle age, with wheat blonde hair and pallid skin, her bones protruding in a way that the bones of someone well-nourished wouldn't. Her eyes are down and as large as a doe, the sparkle in them enhanced by salty tears. 

The small girl looks nearly identical to her, her wheat hair in a messy braid that's falling apart. She clutches her mother's hand tighter, moving further into her the longer Visenya looks at her. The other boy is the complete opposite, with dark disheveled hair and blue eyes. His face is blotchy and wet from tears, but he doesn't seem to fully understand why. Staring at Visenya with blank curiosity rather than fear.

"Are you hurt?" Visenya asks, making a conscious effort to make her voice as light and harmless as possible. She takes a step forward, a branch breaking under her foot. The woman gasps, pressing herself further against the tree. 

Visenya stops, holding her arms up, a nonverbal sign that she means peace. The woman doesn't relax, not that Visenya expects her to.

"You--you--you," the woman stutters, tears still streaming down her face, but not as frantically as they were moments ago. 

"Saved you, yes," Visenya says, taking another step forward. The woman doesn't cower, but her fear doesn't lessen. 

"I don't have coin," she says, her voice wavering in between her sobs. Visenya shrugs, a small smile curling on her lips.

"And I have more than enough," Visenya says. The woman continues to stare at her, not uttering a single word. It's like they're frozen in place, only the tears running down her cheeks and their shaking forms giving away that they're in fact real. Visenya feels her stomach twist itself into knots. 

She should grab her blade and leave the clearing behind, get back on Roach with Geralt and ride off to the next destination. At the very least her conscience would be eased by the fact that they kept these band of idiots from hurting the woman and her children. 

And yet…

A voice whispers in her ear to not, that she'd never stop thinking about this moment, wondering what became of them. Did they save them from these bandits only to get robbed and left for dead by the next group of pricks with pointy swords? She couldn't live with it, she realizes. Not if she doesn't do everything in her power to ensure they arrive home safely and alive… wherever home is. A sigh escapes her mouth, so quiet it could be mistaken for the wind. 

"You have no reason to trust me, I get that, but at the very least I saved you from those pricks, so I can't be that bad, right?" Visenya asks, voice rougher and blunter than she intended for it to be. Internally she winces as the woman cowers for a brief second, but then slowly she nods her head.

"Right. Your son is injured, how serious, I'm not sure. I don't know, maybe you have some training in the art of healing, but if you're not, at the very least, I'm no stranger to minor injuries. I can help him," Visenya continues. The elven woman doesn't cower anymore, her rapid tears dwindling to a light drizzle rather than a heavy pour. She nods once more, and Visenya finds herself sighing in relief. 

Without wasting another moment she takes a step forward, turning towards the child on the ground. She crouches beside him, his mother moving to be on his other side. Her shining eyes are sharp, watching Visenya with the likeness of a hawk watching its prey. 

He looks to be a mixture of his mother and presumably his father. His hair is a dirty blonde, freckles dotting his tan skin. He's not nearly as frail as his other siblings, similar to how Jon, Robb, and Theon looked when they first started training in Winterfell. But he seems to have much less meat on his bones. 

Visenya places her warm hands on his face, lifting his head and moving a hand to gently cradle his head. There's a large bruise blossoming on the right side of his forehead, but there's no blood or any other signs of injury. She places a hand on his heart, feeling it beat against her hand, then slides it to the side of his neck, feeling a pulse there as well. 

"He didn't get hit with a weapon," the woman says, whether convincing herself of his safety or trying to feed Visenya information she isn't sure. Or it could be a mixture of both. 

"No, but he took a hard fall, I've seen men twice his size get knocked on their heads and never get back up, and if they do, they're never the same. There's bleeding, but that doesn't mean he's completely safe," Visenya says, removing her hands from his body. 

"Is there anything to be done?" she asks, picking his up and gently cradling his head in her lap. 

"Other than wait and see when he wakes? No. As I said, I'm no healer, but I have a tea that can help ease his pain. He'll have a bad headache and sore body, that much is certain," Visenay says. She looks over at the two other children; a girl and a boy. They're young, that for certain, younger than the boy on the ground. 

"How much?" the woman asks, not removing her eyes from her son. Visenya's brows furrow in confusion.

"How much what?"

"How much will I owe you for the herbs?" the woman asks again, looking Visenya directly in the eyes. Her tears are dry, but her eyes still shine from the residual dampness. 

"Nothing. He needs it now more than I do. I can buy more when I reach the next town," Visenya says, keeping her face as pleasant as possible. The woman purses her lips, clearly in thought. Silence washes over them until it's broken by the woman. 

"Thank you. Not many humans would show kindness to elves, much less two so well trained in fighting." 

Visenya snorts, a smirk appearing on her face. 

"One human and a mutant, actually. But you're welcome. What good is all the fighting talent in the world if you don't use it well," Visenya says, slowly standing from the ground? The woman's eyes follow her form as she stands to her full height. "Our horse is near the road. We can take you wherever home is, and make sure you get there safe."

The woman nods, adjusting her son in her arms so that he is lying across her lap. With Visenya's help, she stands from the ground, holding her son's bridal style. Her two other children stay close, hiding a bit behind her, each one with a hand attached to her dress. Visenya turns, eager to leave the clearing and forget any of this happened, but the woman stopped her. 

"I've already lost Aldon, my husband. I could not lose my son too, I truly appreciate what you have and are doing for us."

"I wouldn't speak so soon," Geralt's gravelly voice enters the conversation. They both turn to see him kneeling beside the body, two fingers against his neck. "He's fading, but he hasn't died yet." 

Visenya strides towards Geralt, the woman, still holding her son, hot on her trail while her two children stay in place, silently watching with wide eyes. Visenya sits beside Geralt as the woman nearly collapses on the other side of Aldon's body. She takes a hold of his hand, her grip so tight her fingers begin to turn white.

"Can we save him?" Visenya asks. Geralt grunts, gesturing with his head in the direction behind them. She nods, knowing what he's saying without having to physically say it. She stands and runs the way they came in. Her feet are heavy, beating into the soil and breaking any twigs or crunchy leaves. The world is a blur around her, wind rushing against her skin. They can save him, but only if Visenya can get the supplies back to Geralt in time. 

Either by sheer dumb luck, or the gods truly have shown them favor, Roach is right where they left him. Visenya releases a heavy sigh as she beelines straight for her pack that hangs off of Roach. 

"Good horse. I'm going to give you so many apples once we reach civilization," Visenya breathes out, untying her pack from his saddle. He neighs, happily it would seem. She smiles, patting his side a few times before turning and rushing into the forest once more. 

Everyone is in the exact spots as when she left. Geralt is leaning over Aldon with his wife sitting on the other side of his body. She clutches his hand in hers, knuckles turning white from the tightness of her grip. Her lips are quivering with large eyes, her body shaking every few minutes, the stark contrast of Geralt. With thin lips, hard eyes, and unwavering hands as he cleans the wound to the best of his ability; he's the epitome of stone. Visenya runs towards them, tossing the bag at Geralt once she crosses halfway through the clearing. He catches it in his hand, flipping it open and rummaging through it. He pulls out various bottles; some with powders, liquids, herbs: both brushed and whole, and bandages. 

Visenya slows her pace, moving around Aldon to sit beside his wife. She glances at Visenya for a moment before looking back at her husband. She;'s breathing heavily, the sharp intakes of breath sporadic. A hiccup escapes her mouth every few seconds, eyes on her husband, waiting and hoping for any signs of recovering. Hand on the grass, it moves over until it brushes against her free hand. She doesn't look away from her husband, but she takes Visenya's hand, her cold body instantly feeling warmer from Visenya's proximity. It provides comfort, a sense of reassurance that Geralt knows what he's doing. That her husband will make it out of the mess, and this day won't become a travesty that's burned in her mind. 

Geralt works quickly, each minute passing in a blur. He tears strips of bandages off with his teeth, the tearing sound from it enough to keep Visenya from getting lost in her thoughts. He wipes away the blood with a cloth, pouring a liquid that smells suspiciously like alcohol over the wound. It hisses upon contact but the noise swiftly dissipates. He then grabs one of the vials that contain a thick liquid. It's amber, with various herbs and other ingredients slightly discoloring it. He packs it into the wound, laying down multiple thick layers of the poultice. He then lifts the torso of the man just enough to wrap his torso in bandages. With her only free hand, Visenya helps him keep the body off the ground, mutely watching Geralt work. 

Finally, Geralt sighs, removing his hands from the body, the two of them gently lowering him to once again lay on the ground. Blood is no longer gushing from the wound on the side of his body, unable to seep through the dense layers above it. 

"They were pricks, but luckily they weren't skilled pricks. He would've bled out, but it wasn't a fatal blow. When he wakes he'll be weak, but alive," Geralt mutters. Visenya sighs, eyes moving to the elven woman. She removes her hand from Visenya's grip, moving her child off of her lap. Visenya immediately places hands on the small boy, taking him from his mother and cradling him. The woman cries out in relief, hovering over Aldon's body and placing a hand on his cheek. 

She looks down at the boy in her arms, noticing the way his eyes twitch under his lids. He's dreaming, it seems. And from the small grin on his face, it's a good one. A soft smile forms on Visenya's face, wide eyes watching the boy, her breathing matching his. A familiar tingling sensation runs up her spine. She glances up, seeing Geralt's gaze firmly on her. She smiles, and he returns it. They've done it, managed to save an innocent family, keeping them from being torn apart by stick bastards with pointy sticks. It's...nice.

"We probably shouldn't move him too much in fear of disturbing his wounds. How far are you from here?" Visenya asks, turning her attention back to the woman. She lifts her head, eyes moving from her husband to Visenya. They're wet with tears again, but not tears of sorrow or fear. This time they're from an overwhelming feeling of joy and hope she didn't have moments ago.

"It's a short distance, we live just on the outskirts of Brunwich," she says. Visenya nods, opening her mouth but Geralt speaks before her.

"We just left," Geralt says.

"And we can turn back around," Visenya interjects, looking at Geralt with a stony expression; lips in a firm line and eyes daring him to contradict her. She clutches the child closer to her, not willing to let them go just yet. They need to be safe and back home, and Visenya needs to see it with her own eyes. Otherwise, her consciousness will never be sated. And Geralt gleans this, causing a sigh to leave his lips, not bothering to start an argument he knows he wouldn't win. 

"We can," he concedes, voice lacking any form of enthusiasm or conviction in his words.

"Excellent." Visenya returns her attention to the woman. "Since his injuries are the most delicate, your husband can ride on Roach, and you can ride with him. I can hold your son, but would your two other children be okay to walk? I'm not sure they'd fit on Roach." 

"They won't. We should camp here for the day until he's conscious and well enough to ride," Geralt says. Visenya nods and looks at the woman for confirmation, who nods as well. 

"In that case, I will get Roach," Visenya says. She begins to adjust the boy in her lap to give him back to his mother, but she stands from the ground. 

"I'll come with you," she says. Visenya nods, standing from the ground as well. She walks around Aldon, to stand beside Geralt. She gestures with her chin down at the child. Geralt opens his arms, reluctantly. She places the boy in his arms, and turns, dusting off any dirt that clings to her armor. Visenya nods at her and the two of them exit the clearing. 

The air around them is quiet. They neither speak nor acknowledge each other. Occasionally Visenya glances at her out of the corner of her eyes, and she catches the woman doing the same thing. It's almost like two wolves dancing around each other, trying to figure out how to approach the other. It isn't hostile, neither of them having any obvious tension. It's just….silent. 

The woods are as gloomy as before; a cold chill sweeping through the air with dead trees and crunching leaves in shades of brown coloring their world. Yet everything somehow feels lighter, less dull, and grey. Visenya feels weightless, the adrenaline from the battle still lingering in her veins and the rush from saving innocent lives giving a small skip in her step. 

"I am Amaria," the woman -- Amaria says, making the first move. Visenya nods, continuing to look straight ahead. 

"I am Amaria," the woman, Amaria, says. Her voice is louder than she's heard it, yet the only other times she spoke was during great distress. There's a melodic tone to it, each word slightly flowing together like the lyrics of a song. Visenya nods her head, staring straight ahead. 

"Visenya." Leaves crunch under her boots, matching the pace of her heart, and the distant song that lingers in the back of her mind. It's been too long since she's heard music - and not just the drunken yodeling of tavern goers. She misses music and singing that are enjoyable to listen to. She misses the small tunes and fumbling lyrics that Jaskier always sang throughout the days. Everything is too silent now, and she finds herself trying to fill the silence the way he did. 

"That's a beautiful name," Amaria remarks, stepping over an overly large root. Visenya smiles, glancing over at her. She's only the second person to call her Visenya. It's relieving...finally able to take ownership of her own name once again. 

"Thank you, it's a family name." Amaria nods, falling silent once more, and unlike moments prior, this silence is not an easy one. Nerves fill Visenya, the uncertainty of what to say - if she should say anything at all overwhelming. She mulls over it for another moment, before just opening her mouth and hoping to not offend. 

"What are your children named?" Visenya asks. 

"Rohir is my oldest at seven, he's the one you helped. Then there's Elana, she's only four and my youngest is Vyron, he's only two," Amaria says, a wide smile appearing on her face as she thinks about her children. Visenya watches her with keen eyes, a pang of envy stabbing into her, a piece of her longing to know the feeling of having a family that's all your own. 

"They're beautiful," Visenya says, tightly nodding her head. She drums her fingers against the side of her leg. 

"Do you have any?" Amaria asks. She's seemingly unaware or unconcerned by the awkward air that surrounds Visenya. But it's nothing new, she's never been the best with people. Constantly being around such loud people like Jaskier, or quiet and reclusive people like Geralt, she never notices. But now, walking in the forest alone with Amaria, she can't help but notice how extremely difficult something as simple as conversation is. 

"No," Visenya says, crouching to avoid smacking into a low hanging group of branches. Amaria nods, and then sighs. Her face scrunches into discomfort; pursuing her lips with eyes that are narrowed slightly. 

"Sorry, I should not have asked. I'm sure Witcher mutations make conceiving a child near impossible," she says, her voice sympathetic and apologetic. Absentmindedly Visenya nods, only a moment later, fully processing the words. 

"Wait what?" Visenya stops in her tracks, turning to face Amaria. Her mouth is agape and eyes wide, ashen brows furrow in confusion with lines on her forehead. She continues a few steps before realizing Visenya is no longer walking with her. She stops as well, turning around and facing Visenya.

"You and the Witcher. Aren't you two..." Amaria trails off. Visenya's cheeks are bombarded with heat that makes her skin bright red. There's a funny feeling in her stomach, tingles rushing up her spine. The thought of her and Geralt together isn't unpleasant, and that's the worst part. She almost enjoys the idea. But she quickly sweeps that away, her and Geralt having children would be disastrous, not that he probably could. 

"Geralt and I are not...together," Visenya says, tone more frantic than she intended. 

"Oh, I just thought maybe…"

"Well, you thought wrong," Visenya says, the words harsher than she intended for it to be. She releases a sigh of frustration, watching Amaria jump, slowly taking one step back from Visenya. Quickly, she crumbles back into the scared rabbit she was when Visenya first saw her. The familiar look in her eyes quickly snaps Visenya out of her frustration. Guild replaces her bubbling temper, immediately dousing out any annoyance in her voice. 

"Sorry, I didn't mean to be so harsh," Visenya says. Amaria nods, frown curling into a small smile. "Please, forgive me."

"You are forgiven. I should not have made such assumptions," Amaria says. She steps closer towards Visenya, a non-verbal sign that she doesn't hold any fear for her. Visenya smiles at her, and the two of them continue walking once more. Silence cloaking them in its aura for the rest of their walk, neither speaking even upon reaching Roach and bringing his back to Geralt and her family. 

oOo

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[imnotwolverine]

Couch People

Henry Cavill x OC (you) drabble 

Word count: 2.907

Warnings: Alcohol consumption and pure and utter fluff. 

Author’s note: I had a DREAM (last night). And I decided to write about it in Henry’s POV, since that’s a cute lil’ twist on the usual meet-cute situation. 

--

My couch is my new favourite object. It wasn’t up to last night. Yesterday it probably was like..my kitchen aid, or my glute drive. But today? It’s definitely my couch. Not only because I’m still slightly hungover and the thing is darn comfortable. No. It’s something else.

Sighing, I sink further down into the soft pillows, that darn tartan red throw still lingering in the corner, smelling of you. Fuck. I’m having it bad, huh?

—

Should I lose the tie? Was it too formal? Hesitantly tugging at the silk I watch the last of the audience leave the London Studios, the infamous red couch now moved to the side so a cleaning crew can ready the stage for the next show. I’m glad it’s over and fans leave me be for a hot second, my mind quite elsewhere as of this moment.

Before me stand the people I recognise to be your friends. Men, all of them. Their voices low but merry as they bounce off the walls of the almost completely emptied out space.

‘Hi Henry.’ Your voice tinkles above the low hum of voices and quite instantly I feel my nerves back in my throat. Shit..Now what? What the hell was I even planning on…Damnit …

‘Hi.’ Is all I can manage back, the six men around you now also turning to offer me a warm welcome. And from the looks on their faces, they know full well why I am here. You, however, seems to be a bit clueless, your fingers reaching into one of your friends’ backpacks to fetch some lip balm.

‘Good show, hmm?’ You mumble, brushing the balm over your supple lips. Kissable lips.

‘Sure was.’ I agree. Come on Henry. You’ll have to do better than that! You don’t seem to care though, your attention drifting back to one of your friends, who raises an expecting eyebrow at you.

‘Oh, eh..Henry, you want to join us? We want to go out for some drinks..and some food maybe?’

‘FOOODD.’ One of the guys grabs his beer belly and makes a gesture like he’s been starved for weeks - which is obviously not true. I chuckle. They seem like good guys. And so very normal, which only makes me like you more.

‘I’d love to.’

‘Oh! And I still have to pee.’ One of the more lanky built men intervenes, to which the whole group blurts; ‘Pee-break!’

—

One pee-break and a short cab drive later,  I have brought you to one of my favourite pubs. Not only because it’s close to my home. Also, because I know the owner and with a blink of my blue eyes I can get us to use the room upstairs, which is usually reserved for exclusive events. Well. Tonight is an exclusive event, okay? The pub is old, mahogany and smelling of good times, the upstairs level reached through a very, VERY steep and very narrow step of stairs. With hands and feet we climb up, finding a low ceiling room, in equally dark and wooden hues. A lone rough table is set up, inviting us to take a seat before an old paned window that lets you look out over the drunken banter below.

In moments there is fish and chips by the bucket load and a few pitchers of beer, which your friends drink from greedily. And, of course, a glass of wine for you. You don’t like the bitter taste of beer. I make a mental note of that.

There’s nothing stuck up about you. You smile so easily, joke so merrily - and did I spot some nerdy references that escaped your lips? With every glass of wine there are more and it makes my whole body thrum with excitement.  Though perhaps that’s also just the beer talking.

Much too soon your friends have to leave to take their late flight back home. The fact that they had flown out here just to celebrate your success after years of hard work, just shows how good a bunch they are. And you are to them. With any other women with male friends, I’d easily pick on ulterior motives. But not with these guys. You go way back. You’re good. Golden. One of the guys. Though, dear god in heaven, am I happy you’re a woman.

Long bear hugs are exchanged between you and your friends as I stand there on the sidewalk, trying to evade the looks and attention of the drunken merry. The night is cold and winter is soon to come, the lot of us huddling in our winter coats as cars pass by, driving through deep puddles. With a last wave we send your friends off into a cab, back to their homes.

And then it’s just us.

‘So..’ You suck your lips in, eyes darting out to send a warning glance at some drunk brits that take a snapshot of us - it happens so often I barely even care about it still. I try to look as gentlemanly as ever, but the pints dance happily in my eyes. I know it from the way your gaze softens when you look back at me. ‘It was a good night.’ You say.

And I half disagree; ‘It IS a good night.’ As soon as I say it, I’m not sure if the drink is making me overly courageous, my arm hesitating to reach out and offer you something to hold onto. You chuckle.

‘You’re right. Especially since it’s not raining. GOOD HEAVENS.’ And with that you slip your hand around the crook of my arm without question. Like it’s the most natural thing to do, your cold fingers feeling like icicles through the wool of my coat. If only I could warm you up properly.

‘And you’re taking a long holiday? Any plans?’ I try to keep easy conversation flowing, referring to something you had mentioned during Graham’s show. I knew you were taking some time off after this movie was all wrapped up. I had been there, working on the same set, so I know how crazy it had been.

‘Yea...it’s been a crazy two years. Which is a long time not to have any holidays.’ You widen your eyes in exasperation as your feet elegantly move around a large puddle.

‘Tell me all about it.’ I sigh. Unfortunately for me, I’m soon to start on yet another production. Which means no holidays for me.

‘But ehm..I actually made zero plans. My whole life was planned out near minute to minute for the past years. I just need to ..get back to basics, you know? Sleep a full 8 hours. Walk. Cook. Take long baths. Maybe..go hiking in the highlands. Or..go to the Bahamas..I’ve never been to the Bahamas! Or…’

‘A right here.’ I interrupt you, sending us into the direction of a small alleyway.

‘Oohh..must I trust you now or is this where I find out you’re a serial killer, Mr. Cavill?’ You tease.

‘Mm..I’m too busy a man to spend my time planning out how to murder people.’

‘Very well Hannibal.’

‘Hahaha..good series.’ - There’s those nerdy references bubbling up again.

’Tis.’ You agree, sighing deeply as the darkness swallows us, leaving the crowded street behind until there’s nothing else but us and the tap of our feet on the cold wet cobble stone. You lean slightly closer to me and I’m glad you do.

‘So..’ You look up at me. ‘Are we mere wanderers or are we heading to mount doom to get rid of some pesky ring?’

I snort laugh. Yep. I definitely snorted. And you laugh merrily in turn. God, you’re cute.

‘I don’t know Sam, I don’t know.’

You grumble softly in playful dissatisfaction. ‘What if I want to be Frodo?’

‘If you so wish to be, fellow over-sized hobbit. Though I think, since you sound like such a well planned, yet easy going lady, you’re a Sam. BESIDES, you say you love to cook and work in the garden..that definitely makes you a Sam.’

‘True, true.’ You hum, the light at the other side of the alley coming closer, your feet suddenly starting to drag. Almost as if you don’t want to get back into the light, where drunk hustle and bustle is about. I stop and you look up at me, head tilting slightly upwards.

‘Say, Frodo. What does a woman do in this town when she doesn’t want to call it a night, yet?’

I pretend to think about it, though my mind knows full well where we could be going now. ‘Depends on what you want to do, Sam.’

‘As much as I’d like an adventure..so cold are my feet. Something indoors, perhaps?’

Exactly what I was planning.

‘I know just the place. Though…it’s..very private, okay?’

‘Are we going to find prancing ponies and kitten heeled Striders there?’ - With that you print this vision in my head of Aragorn in high heels, lurking on a pipe, and it makes me chuckle aloud. You are slightly cheeky too.

‘Mmm..more like large hounds and vast amounts of books, all crammed into a cute little..’

‘It’s your place isn’t it?’

I chuckle. ‘Yea..I live 5 minutes from here.’

‘Okay. But just in case you are considering a career change; please don’t eat me.’

I smile, nudging us to move ahead, our eyes squinting at the bright street light as we return to the land of the living drunk and the hum of stationary engines. As most pubs are closing for the night, everyone tries to grab a cab.

‘Well, looks like I wouldn’t have come home at this hour anyways haha.’ You mumble, our feet jumping over another puddle as we move to yet another alleyway.

We don’t have to take this route. But I like the lack of people. And having you squeezed up against my arm. So maybe it’s not a five minute walk entirely. You thankfully don’t seem to care.

‘You live in London?’

’Not really. Though for work I’m here half of the week. I stay at this cute hostel with THE MOST COMFORTABLE BEDS I have ever slept in. Like. Ugh. It’s fantastic.’

‘And your real home?’

‘Not such a good bed.’

We shouldn’t be talking about beds at this hour, but I suddenly can’t think of anything else to talk about.

‘Well, the best bed I’ve ever slept in is right at home.’

‘Mmm..are you suggesting anything there, Hannibal?’ Where you were clueless about my flirtations whilst we were sitting on Graham’s couch, the message seems to come across quite perfectly now, your eyes glittering with promise.

I act shocked, but we both know better. ‘Never!’ I say, to which we belt out in loud laughter, the sound echoing off the tall buildings at either side of us.

‘Gods, you are cheeky after a few pints hahah.’ You laugh.

‘And you are walking home with a complete stranger.’

‘Naa..I checked your Wikipedia page. So. Not complete stranger. I think it’s actually YOU who’s walking home with a stranger.’

‘Quite so.’

You’re right. We’ve worked together for 3 months on the same set, but I’ve only seen you from afar. In fact, you were kind of my boss. Which would’ve made any advances from my side even weirder. Tonight felt like the first real opportunity, now the project was finished. And here we were. In front of my house.

After a few awkward fumbles I manage to unlock the door, the two of us being welcomed by a sleepy Kal, his wet nose diving head-first into my face.

‘Down boy.’ I grumble, but thankfully you’re not afraid of my large hound, your fingers already racing through his thick fur before I have managed to close the door behind us.

‘Hi baby!! You are SO CUTE! JUST LOOK AT YOU!! And so tired too! You been sleeping, big boy?’

Kal loves you already. And I..?

‘A wine would be good.’ You look up at me as I just stand there staring at you. Shaking myself from my thoughts and awkward nerves, I put our coats away and try to find some decent bottle of red wine. I forgot to ask what kind you like, so I’ll just have to pick whatever. ‘Make yourself comfortable!’ I say aloud, but as I return with a bottle and two glasses I already see you’ve done just that, legs pulled up and that stupid tartan throw wrapped around your legs, Kal getting yet another head scratch from you.

Oh, he loves you a lot.

‘I hope cabernet is alright?’

You laugh and wave it away; ‘Henry. I had 5 glasses of wine. By this point you’d ALMOST get me drinking beer. Almost haha.’

In what seems like a blink of the eye this bottle is finished as well and the world is near spinning when I get up to make us a snack. Which of course is the worst idea ever at like 2..3..4 am? I can’t see quite straight enough anymore and the giddiness in my bones is showing in the most idiotic grins I’ve probably ever had on my cheeks. My face is going to hurt tomorrow. From laughing, that is.

As I haphazardly decide I should first ask what you want to eat, I suddenly find the long despised throw of my ex earning a much welcomed new, far sweeter memory. In the deep soft pillows of the couch, there you lie. Knocked out asleep, fingers still trailing through Kal’s fur, his head not daring to move as I look the pupper in the eye.

‘Well..’ 

I can’t send you home like this. And so, with a dangerous wobble in my inebriated knees, I tuck you in, the smooth wool warm as it moves beneath my fingertips.

For just a moment I wonder if I should put you in my bed, so I’ll sleep on the couch. But you’re laying so comfortably, that I’m afraid I’ll wake you..and then you’ll probably leave. I don’t want you to leave. Yes. I should have you stay. I..eh…

Blinking I look around the room, deciding how I should keep you to at least stay for breakfast. I don’t want this to be the last time I see you, you know? And so I grab for some paper and a pen, my handwriting not what it should be.

“Good morning, Sunshine. In case the drinks were too many; the dog’s name is Kal. Don’t worry about him. And I’m upstairs. Feel free to grab anything you like. Also. In exchange for a couch..how about we have breakfast, together? Henry.”

—

Waking up was like thinking everything was a dream. A very drunken dream. My head was screaming for water and sleep, but I couldn’t stop myself from racing downstairs first, only to find you were still asleep. Just where I left you. It was only after I started cracking up my cooking skills (cheesy eggs with toast), that you woke up. Large yawns were heard from the couch-area, before you groggily walked into the kitchen, hair in disarray and just perfect in my humble opinion.

‘Mmmoo- *yawn* -orning.’ You bring out, hands rubbing over your eyes.

‘Hi.’

You are so cute. 

And then you step in closer, eyeing my cooking, your scent and body so close, I wish we were at the point that I could grab you into a hug, delve my nose into your hair.

‘Sleep well?’ I ask with a crooked smile, your face nodding but your body saying: I need more sleep, for the love of the gods.

After breakfast you quirk up, that cute smirk back on your lips as you lick them in satisfaction.

‘That’s some fine cooking there Frodo.’

‘Thanks Sam.’

‘And a couch that makes a close second to the hostel’s bed.’

‘HAhaha..oh..yes. I was not sure what to do. Wake you up? Put you in my bed? I mean..a lot of..options.’ I trail off as your smile grows. 

‘..I’m so sorry for putting you in that position, Henry. And also, apologies for falling asleep as you were just about to make a snack. Its typical me; midnight snack-time? I fall asleep.’

‘Well, it’s your holidays. You can sleep all you want’

‘So it is.’ You fold your fingers around your hot cup of tea - no sugar, no milk. I make a mental note of that too.  

With curious eyes you watch me sit across you, the kitchen table suddenly feeling too large, too wide. I want to be closer to you. Snuggle up to you. You look so snuggable.

‘Any plans for today?’ You inquire lightly.

And that’s when it clicks. I could keep you around a little longer, maybe? De-hangover together, maybe?

‘Want to stay for a bit?’ I ask, hope sparking in the swallow of my nervous throat.

‘Sure.’

I think that’s what I like the most about you. It’s easy. Natural. No hassle. No hunt. Though I would have hunted you, if that is what it would have taken.

—

Now I’m sitting here on the couch and you’ve just gone back to your hostel. I mean, I get it. We’ve been together for nearly 24 hours. When we’re not even..like..more than strangers. For a moment I wondered if I should kiss you, after we walked Kal, our hands interlinked - which also felt so very normal.

The more glad I was when you did it for me.

You kissed me.

Those sweet chapped lips on mine. 

I sink further into the couch and sigh. I like you a lot my sweet Sam.

--

(Link to my Masterlist)

General Tagsquad: @harrysthiccthighss @tumblnewby @magdelen69 @thereisa8ella @mary-ann84 @darkbooksarwin @summersong69 @madbaddic7ed @luclittlepond @maroonmolly

[alpaca-writes]

Mystics, Chapter 36

84,000 words later....

I can’t thank everyone enough who sent in asks, commented, liked, and reblogged Mystics as it was being created. It meant the world to me and gave me so much inspiration to continue! Special thanks to Myst, of course. Continue to send in asks for the OCs as much as you want. A part 2 is in the works.

Enjoy Mystics’ final chapter. I hope its been as much fun to read as it was for me to write! <3

Xx -Alpaca

Taglist: @myst-in-the-mirror & @livingforthewhump

CW: captivity, blood mention, drug mention, cheesy dancing at the end.

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

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX: THREE LITTLE BIRDS

Remember: Matter. How tiny your share of it. Time. How brief and fleeting your allotment of it. Fate. How small a role you play in it.

                              - Marcus Aurelius, Meditations.

         Shining white, pristine walls lined the hall. It didn’t take long for Hekate to catch up. Paimon didn’t know why he expected anything less. Now his arms were held behind his back by a cosmic force, unknown even to him, and the inorganic urge to continue walking by her side pushed him forward. He spoke little, and listened even less to what the old hag was saying.

         “I cannot promise you will be happy here, but at least you will not be alone in your imprisonment,” Hekate said.

         They turned around a corner through the maze of halls and landed upon a wide set of sliding doors. The whole realm was practically space-age. Hekate was clever to disguise the entryway to her realm as his own Labyrinth.

         He should never have jumped through. That was a rookie mistake. The moment Apollo was released, he should have known something was amiss. Lyrem certainly didn’t have the talents to perform such a feat.

         “This is best for you, Pan,” Hekate continued. “I know that with a little more helpful guidance, you can return to your true nature, and your true glory.”

         “Paimon.”

         Hekate paused. “No, no, no, my dear. You are Pan. You always have been Pan. You will always be Pan.”

         The sliding doors opened. Inside this room there was yet another hallway, but instead of previous areas, this one was lined with clear walls. Perfect for seeing through into the cells that would hold a chosen prisoner.

         Many of them were empty. Hekate continued toward the end, until Paimon reached the last of the cells. There was a simple bed and some books on a nightstand that had been left untouched. The room was covered in a white rubber. The bed, made of wood.

         “I am not going in there,” Paimon said, his brows furrowed.

         Hekate agreed with a nod of her head.

         “You are correct. You are going into this one.”

         The cell door across from the one that had taken Paimon’s attention opened with a whirring noise. Unable to stop himself, Paimon stepped through the threshold. The door whirred shut behind him and he was released, finally, from whatever command Hekate had over him.

         “This is an abuse of power!”

         “An abuse of power is what you had for many, many years on Earth my darling dear. And quite frankly, I have had enough of your games,” Hekate observed calmly. “You will have much in common with your cellmate. Let me put it simply, Pan. The sooner you behave, the sooner you will be released.”

         Pan- no! Paimon looked around his new home as new objects formed around him out of nothingness. A simple bed, nightstand, all as white as snow on Christmas day and one thing in the corner that stood out among everything else because of its red mahogany sheen- a Pan flute.

         “If you wish to have anything more, then you will need to earn it,” Hekate stated.

         Darkly, Paimon turned around, meeting his great aunt’s eyes.

         “I will destroy you for this. I will ruin you. I will make sure no one ever knows of you. I will turn you into a forgotten relic! Just as you deserve to be!”

         Hekate raised a brow to show how meaningless Paimon’s threats truly were to her.

         “I would think it something to be admired, if you could do any one of those things, darling dear. Certainly, if even your own father could not do those things, then it would be worth true congratulation.”

         Paimon charged the clear wall and then stole a glance to the cell across from him, where someone had returned from using a restroom. The mysterious person sat on the edge of his bed. Someone vaguely familiar, with light eyes and a trimmed white beard, looking drastically different than he remembered. Paimon blinked.

         “Dad?”

 ---------------------------------

         “Have you ever heard the tale of Sisyphus?”

         “It may shock you to learn I haven’t ever quite finished the Iliad, but yes, I have.” Lyrem replied to Hades’ question. “So, you’ll have repeat a meaningless, trivial task for all eternity in my afterlife as a punishment for imprisoning you as per Pan’s command. How very original. Did you think of that all on your own, or did you need your brother’s help?”

         “My brother Zeus has not been heard from for a millennia. While he had given me some inspiration, I thought it better to put my own ironic flair into your suffering.”

         Persephone interrupted with a short squeak.

         “No, uncle, please don’t be so ruthless. He’s lost so much already!”

         Artemis had switched back into her cat-like form, comforting her brother Apollo in his lap and purring. She had let out a protest of her own in Lyrem’s favour as well.

         Apollo translated. “Arty agrees. We should be kind to him. Truly uncle, I have to imagine that Pan had quite the psychological hold on this man. Perhaps it would be wise to show him a tad bit of mercy?”

         Hades looked to the naïve children and back to the human-mortal-man with growing disinterest. Then a light crossed his face, as though an idea dawned on him. He allowed himself to smile, ever so gently.

         “Well, I can see that you have created quite the positive rapport with my nieces and nephew already. I don’t know why I am so surprised.”

         Lyrem shot a quick wink to Persephone as a thank you.

         “Which is why, I shall grant you eternal life.” Hades continued.

         Lyrem looked back to him, and stammered.

         “What- what did… Did you just say what I think you said?"

         Hades nodded. Everyone looked joyful. Excited even. Lyrem could last forever- very nearly be one of them. Yes, everyone thought this to be a grand idea, except for obviously, Lyrem.

         “When you die, I will refuse to take your soul. Every time without fail. You will forever grow old, then older… then older. And you will never die.”

         “No.”

         “Welcome to a lifetime of arthritis and aching legs and never-ending cataract surgery,” Hades said. “Oh, yes, that is right, Thomas. I know how old you are, and how much older you will get before your cells no longer hold you together. Consider this a gift.”

         “No, please, God Hades. I need to find Ros-”

         “Goodbye ‘Lyrem’. Have yourself a wonderful life.”

         He was gone. All the mortals had left the Underworld, finally. Now, Hades could return to restoring his realm to its proper state.

         Persephone perked up, realizing she was free to create and grow everything back to the way it was in the Underworld.

         “My pond!” She cried, running out the dining room doors towards the Depths of Despair. “I swear, if Pan killed my koi, I am going to be furious!”

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

         “Why the hell are there empty bins in the hall?! Where are all my photos?! What on earth happened to my stereo?!”

         Arch groaned, sitting up from the floor of the living room. Their mother was already back to her old self, standing and shouting and asking questions that no one would care to answer for her.

         “I don’t know, and I don’t care,” Arthur answered. He stood to his feet and limped slowly down the hall. “I’m pouring myself a bath.”

         Charlotte rushed past her brother and her child, throwing herself through the house in a frenzy. Arch stood with their back against the wall, arms crossed. It wasn’t anything defiant. They just wanted to be held.

         “Where are all my clothes?!”

         DING DONG

         “Arch, I swear to God, you will tell me what happened while I was away, and where all my f-” ding dong “stuff is!”

         Arch removed their bloody apron from their body, moved a short few steps to the kitchen sink and rinsed their hands that were still stained red.

         DING DING DING DING DING DONG!

         Arch rubbed their temple with their hands and out of instinct, walked to the front door.

         It was Benji. Through the screen door, Arch saw him standing on the sidewalk in front of their house. He had just pressed play on his Bluetooth speaker sitting in the grass. It started playing a bizarre melody.

         “Hey! You answered! I was hoping you would! You have no idea how many texts I’ve sent!”

         Arch stepped out onto the top of the stairs, still puzzled to know what was happening. The summer heat still lingered in the air.

         “Look, I don’t know what I did to deserve the cold-shoulder, but I thought you deserved a visit at least on your birthday, okay? So, sue me.”

         “My birthday?” Arch said. “It’s… It’s August? Thirteenth?”

‘Me, my, oh, what a life So lean on my people, gon' be stepping in time’

         “Yeah, dude! Did you seriously forget?!” Benji exclaimed, bobbing his head from side to side.

‘So, thank you!

For coming to my birthday party!

I am one minute old today

And everything is going great-’

Arch sputtered a reflexive, well-needed laugh. Benji had started dancing like an absolute fool on their front lawn. He pulled out a birthday candle from the recesses of his pocket and held it forward.

“Look, I’ve been wanting you to show me that magic trick again, I can’t stop thinking about it.”

Arch placed their hands in their pockets, trying to work past their tears of both exhaustion and entertainment. They shook their head. They really didn’t want to know if they could still perform that trick.

“I… forgot how.”

Benji stared back up, crestfallen. He checked his phone and lowered the volume on his music player.

“Fine, okay. Whatever. You don’t want me around. That’s cool. I get it. I’m a big shot. Not really your type to hang with-”

“What?”

Benji swallowed back his pain, and shrugged.

“It’s cool Arch. School’s over and we gotta go our separate ways. I understand.”

He started backing away. Arch leapt forward, and caught him by the elbow before he turned away completely.

“I want you to stay!” Arch admitted. “It’s totally cool if you want to hang out. Please stay... I… Honestly, I have been so lonely...”

How did the air get so thick?

“And I have missed you… so much.”

Benji’s sad, soulful eyes skeptically narrowed, and then widened with a realization.

“Dude… Have you been struggling? This whole time…? All summer? You gotta come to me with your shit! Don’t bottle it up, bud.” Benji wrapped them in a tight hug and rocked them to and fro. “Oh, I had no idea... You’re my main enby, Arch… I’ll be your Rick Astley forever… The Bernie to your Elton… Okay? Always. No doubt. No doubt.”

Arch took a moment to sob grossly into his shoulder. They pulled away before it got too squishy for their liking. If allowed, they knew Benji would let them cry on him until the end of time.

Arch took a deep breath of relief.

“Sorry, I’ve just been really stressed.”

“Yeah, hey. No kidding.” Benji said. “Look, here’s the plan, Shazia said that if I could reach you today that she’d meet us at the park with some of that fancy hash we like so that we can smoke up cakes.”

Arch scrunched their face.

“Cupcakes. Shazia would meet us in the park with cupcakes. Hey, Charlotte,” Benji cleared his throat, seeing the dark haired woman, who seemed to be hanging by a very fine thread from behind the screen door. “How are you?”

“I’m fine, Benji. Arch, just go.”

“Wait. Really?” Arch turned around, wondering how she could be serious.

“You’re eighteen now, aren’t you?” Charlotte asked. 

Arch nodded.

“Then get out.”

There wasn’t anything warm about the way Charlotte said those words. Instead of lingering too long on the nuance, Arch only nodded, watching the door to the house shut its inhabitants in.

Benji bent over to pick up his speaker. He didn’t miss a beat cutting the music.

“What was that all about?” He asked. Like Arch, he looked up at the closed door.

Arch wiped the wetness away from their face with a couple fingers.

“I… I think I was just kicked out.”

Arch cleared their throat. They turned back to Benji as the summer sun beat down on them both. 

Oh Benji. He was the most welcome sight in this world. The only good thing left that Arch had yet to ruin. Shazia would soon await them both in the park. Their life with Paimon, Lyrem, and hell, was now in the past. A future containing Arthur and Charlotte filled with shame and regret awaited them.

That didn’t matter yet. All that mattered was what was right in front of them.

And Arch really, really, really wanted to get high.

“Anyways, you said something about smoking up?”

[kindness-bliss]

New Beginnings Ch. 11

Timothy Thatcher x OC

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: none

Tim looked outside as he watched them drive off and rubbed his face and leaned against the wall and watched them all walk towards him. “I know, I know”

“Do you though ? Do you ?” Candice spat out “What in the absolute fuck were you thinking ? What happened ?”

“I just...I couldn’t handle the alcohol, it hit me all at once and then next thing I knew whats her face shoved her tongue down my throat and then...I was the one who initiated it” he admitted quietly “I was the one who took her to the bathroom to…to do that” Tim said not even being able to say the words

“What the fuck is wrong with you ?!” Oney demanded

Tim shook his head as he debated throwing himself in front of a moving car to end his never ending misery “Guys, Candice please”  “No, answer us” Johnny said sternly “Before we all take turns beating the absolute shit out of you, granted Maya clearly did a great job as we can tell by your slight limp and broken bruised nose you shit head !”  

 “Guys !” Tim exclaimed frustrated as he threw his hands down

“So you see her having a good time with us and Marcel so you decide to fuck someone in a bathroom at her own party when you claimed you were heartbroken and wanted her for yourself ? Instead of being a man and pulling her aside you do that ? To Maya, the legit most nicest and genuine person ?” Oney asks

“Oney….” “No I wanna know, I wanna know what it the absolute fuck went through your head when you decided to pull that shit ?” he repeated “This is a girl who liked you, spent 6 months sad over you while you couldn’t even answer a simple text message or call, you acted like a little bitch for 6 months moaning and complaining when you had absolutely no right to. She reached out, she called, left voicemails and sent text messages to you every fucking day for a month straight and you chose not to respond yet you get pissy because you see her enjoy herself with Marcel and all of us, you get jealous seeing her have fun. You’re bitter” he finally says “You’re nothing but a bitter child stuck inside a 38 year old man's body and you don’t deserve Maya. You don’t deserve her kindness nor her love and care because despite her being all lovey with Marcel tonight everyone here can see she wanted you, she craves you and that’s really fucking sad. But I think it’s time we don’t let that happen, it’s time we as her friends don’t let a 25 year old fall for a 38 year old bitter, disrespectful asswipe.”    Tim stood there in silence, swallowing the small amount he had left of pride. For Oney whom he had known for years to reprimand him he knew just how deep and bad shit really was.   “Yeah stay quiet buck teeth” Johnny muttered as he pushed past him with Candice and Fabian “Chipped teeth...not buck teeth” Fabian corrected quietly as he waited with them for an uber turning back when Johnny, Candice and Oney weren’t looking and giving him the finger ***** “Your place, not mine” Maya whispered meekly “I wanna be with you in your space, not mine”  “Anything you want” Marcel said softly as he noticed her holding his hand tightly in hers. This wasn’t in any way what he wanted for them, especially not for her. He felt disgusted as he drove thinking of how broken she must’ve been seeing that.    “I just wanna be with you, anywhere with you” she said quietly as she stared out her window “As long as I’m with you, I’ll be okay” He nodded as he blinked away tears, emotional at hearing her words as he pulled into his apartment building and helped her out   She let out a small shaky breath as she held his hand and walked with him towards the elevator taking off Fabian’s suit jacket as she handed it over “You can give this to him when you see him again, it was extremely kind of him”   “I will” he said softly as he pressed the button and stood with her with looming silence as the elevator took them up to his apartment   “I hate him” she said suddenly “and I’m sorry for everything that I did and said to you while being enamored with him, you didn’t deserve any of that from me”  

 “Maya, no. Don’t say that, listen things happened tonight and I really think tomorrow you two should talk I can call him over and-”

“No” she answered sternly as she shot him a look full of hurt and anger “It ends here, it dies here. He doesn’t exist to me and that’s that”   Marcel simply nodded as he didn’t push the topic any further and walked with her as he opened the door with his key and went to his bedroom to pull out a shirt and sweatpants for her and changed into his usual basketball shorts   

“Thanks” she whispered as she stripped down in the bathroom and threw them on immediately taking in his scent and feeling an immense feel of comfort

  “You didn’t eat” he said softly “let me get you some cereal at least, you still like lucky charms and almond milk ?”   Maya gave a soft grin as she nodded “Yeah...yeah I do, you still remember”

“Of course I do,” Marcel chuckled. “I remember all your likes and dislikes, what shows you love and hate, the fact that you need to sleep on the side by the wall, how you only like your eggs scrambled but never over easy. I remember it all”

 She walked over and looked up at him as he caressed his cheek with her hand “You truly never forgot, you remember and you’re always there for me”

“I always will be, no matter what” he whispered as he touched her hand “As much as I’d like to kiss you, I think you should eat and get in bed, you look exhausted as can be. You need proper rest” Maya nodded as she sat at his table and ate the bowl he served in front of her. It softened her seeing Marcel care so much about her and something about this made her see him in a different light. He wasn’t the vain wrestler who was into himself, he was the man she fell in love with 3 years ago who taught everything there was to know about love.   “What’s going through your head ?” He asked finally “You can be honest with me, I know you still like him a lot judging by how you reacted tonight”  “Marcel...it’s not like that” she explained “It was a shock, that was it. It was just purely shock but just...I don’t wanna talk about it anymore okay ? Can we just stop it please ?”    “Absolutely” he nodded as he picked up her plate “Let’s get to bed”  She nodded and followed as she laid down and scooted close towards him, going beneath his arm as she snuggled up and looked up at him caressing his cheek with her hand    “Hi” he whispered as he gave a soft grin  Maya looked in his eyes and sat up as she cradled his face and kissed him deeply “That’s what I wanted to do all night”   “I-I…wow” Marcel whispered as he licked his lips “That was just, did-did you just kiss me, is this a dream ?”   Maya chuckled as she rolled her eyes “Wow, way to ruin a moment. I’m trying to be romantic over here and do something”   “I’m just shocked is all….you like me ? As in like me more than a friend ?”   “I do” she admits “I really do, these last 6 months you’ve been there for me in so many ways and you’ve made my life so much better. It’s been hard you know ?”   “I do,” Marcel whispered, “But this isn’t exactly how I pictured things working out at all, it’s not how I wanted things to be. I wanted something nice and calm and a bit more romantic” She laughed as she shook her head “Listen life isn’t a fairytale and as much as we’d like to be it’s best just to not expect much and go with the flow. I for one can admit tomorrow I’m probably gonna be hungover and emotional just letting you know ahead   “I’ll be here with you” He pet her cheek as he watched her finally drift to sleep “I’ll always be here with you..” ****  “Well well if it isn’t my favorite student” Eli grinned as he opened the door into the room at the performance center “You’re bright and early Thatch, love when my worst promo student shows up early to class” he laughed Tim rolled his eyes and sat down “Not today alright ? Just get on with the private class so I can go home already” “Not even a death stare or shove today ? Something really must have you down” He raised a brow as he grabbed a chair and sat in front of him “Tell me”    “You haven’t heard ?,” Tim asked surprised. “It’s literally everywhere by now, seriously go check your phone or ask your girlfriend Alli. She has to know” Eli furrowed his brow, taking out his phone and putting it on speaker as he dialed “Baby, hey ! Um have you heard anything about something going down at EVE nightclub in downtown Orlando last night ?”   “Oh my god, yes ! So remember Maya ? Maya Dawson ? The girl we met during one of your commercial shoots in LA and had dinner with a few weeks ago ?” Alli asked not even giving him a chance to answer “Well she apparently had a thing with that one loner dude Tim you work with for a hot minute but nothing serious from what I’ve heard, like not instagram official or anything. All she told me was that they made out a few times but nothing too much”  Eli nodded as he listened “Oh wow, I didn’t know that. Okay go on….” “So they broke up because she didn’t tell him she was engaged prior to that really cute German dude with the blue eyes who happens to be friends with Tim. Drama ensues, she tells me over brunch he never bothered to respond to anything she sent for 6 whole months and she’s back with Marcel on “friendly terms” well she got that Maxim cover and had a big party last night which we got invited but obviously couldn’t go and well...Tim shows up, gets drunk and fucks none other than Kara Smith in the bathroom of the club ! THE Kara Smith !” Alli exclaimed loudly shaking her head disgusted  “NO ! No fucking way ! Um baby, I gotta call you back !” Eli’s eyes widened as he hung up and looked at Tim “You didn’t…. tell me she’s just somehow dramatizing shit”   “How the hell does Alli know everything ?” Tim asked “This is weird, this is why I stay away from social media, this isn’t normal”   Eli scowled “Jesus christ, you fucked Kara Smith and got away with it. That woman has had it out for Maya for the last year, all because miss bleach blonde can’t stand Maya’s more popular, she’s like 33 having it out against a 25 year old. You literally slept with her worst enemy, how drunk were you ?”   “Don’t even remind me” he rubbed his face “I literally am the most hated man in this building, I walked in and immediately it looked like I was gonna get jumped”   “And here I thought I was the whore yet I’ve been in a loving relationship for over a year” Eli chuckled “I can’t believe you man, who does that ?”   Tim shook his head “I don’t even know how to fix this, or even talk to her” “Don’t” Eli answered “Let her be, this isn’t something women get over fast or ever actually, you’re gonna have to suffer man. And quite frankly you deserve it”   He sighed and got up “I’m going home, I don’t feel like being here and quite frankly I don’t wanna hear anymore about how I fucked up”   “Since everyone hates you but me just come to my place” he offered “Alli won’t care, plus I’m done here I was just waiting for you to show up”  Sure it may have been a pity offer but Tim took it with no hesitation “Alright, I’ll drive behind you” he nodded as they both left ****   Maya stirred as she fluttered her eyes open checking her phone for the time, groaning when she saw it was only 8 am , leaning her head back against Marcel's arm as she turned her head and caressed his cheek lightly with her finger tips. She leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his lips taking in all his features, his cheek bones, his soft skin, his chiseled jawline, his defined lips. Everything she loved about him standing out to her as she gulped and moved her hand onto his chest as she kissed him once again slightly deeper, looking into his deep blue eyes once they opened    “Maya ?” he whispered as he pet her cheek, slightly confused as she had kissed him. Confused she had initiated their physical contact rather than him like it had always been   “Hey” she whispered back “I want you….” Maya finally said “I want you now”  As soon as she said those words he leaned in and kissed her ,gently flipping them around so she was on her back as he laid above her and kissed down her neck listening to her loud moans. It had been years since they were together, years since they had last had any kind of physical contact like this.    Maya groaned as she felt his hand down her sweats at her core “t-take them off” Marcel did as told, watching her as he moved his fingers in circular motions, breathing deeply as she kissed along his jaw and removed his shirt. He took his time as he continued to kiss focusing on her breasts feeling her arch her back slightly   “I can’t, please...now” she whimpered “please”  “Are you sure ?” “Yes” she nodded “I’ve been been so sure of something before, yes” He kissed her deeply as he guided himself into her and thrusted in slowly, feeling her nails dig into his shoulder blades “Is it okay ?” “Perfect” she nodded as she hands caressed his face “So perfect, I...I had forgotten how good you feel, how this feels”  Marcel gave a soft grin as he kissed her once again and picked up the pace, holding one hip with his hand as he found a perfect rhythm not keeping his eyes off of hers  She cradled his face and planted a sloppy kiss on his lips arching her back off the mattress and into his body as far as she could feeling the need getting closer and closer  “I’m so close, so fucking close” “Fuck you feel so good” he moaned as he swallowed a deep gulp “Every part of you feels amazing, god I missed you so fucking much Maya, so much”  “Marcel...I can’t hold, I can’t” she whimpered as she felt his hot breath in the crook of her neck He pulled out slightly and pushed back in giving a few more hard thrusts as he picked up the pace and felt her walls clench against him   “Fuck….” she cried out as she came with him wrapping her arms around neck, riding out what was left of their orgasm with him  Marcel collapsed on top of her as he felt her chest rise up and down, her fingers gently playing with his hair

“You okay ?” she asked softly as she lazily kissed his forehead

“I’ve never ever been better” he lifted his chin and looked into her eyes “I haven’t felt like this in a long long time” “Neither have I” she admitted with a smile “Just like old times….”

Marcel blushed at the memories “You mean when we almost got caught by my brother at my mothers house ?”

“And just like that the romance is once again gone” Maya chuckled as she sat up and pulled the sheet up to cover herself 

Marcel laughed as he held her hand in his and kissed it “Now, don’t call me cheesy but….will you be my girlfriend...again ?” “After an orgasm like that ? Of course” she joked as she kissed “But honestly, yes. I would love to”

He let out a sigh of relief as he kissed her back “Things are gonna be good, I promise you that”  

 “No promises” she whispered against his lips “Let’s take it day by day, no pressures no nothing. Just us being together”. She cuddled up against his chest, listening to his heart beat as she dozed back to sleep in his hold ***** “Tim, this is my girlfriend Alli” Eli grinned as he introduced them “Baby, this is Tim”

“I’m loner dude Tim” he said as he offered his hand with a small grin, retracting it when he received a stare back

 “You’ll have to excuse her…women sticking together and that whole thing” he whispered lowly as he sat with him    “May I offer you something to drink as dinner gets closer to being ready ?” Alli asked “Water, Coffee, tea, soda...a condom” she muttered under her breath   “Alli...” Eli looked up at her “Come on, the guy knows he messed up let’s let him not feel like crap for a bit”   “I wanna hear it all, all of it. Not one detail left behind” she scowled as she set the table “Come eat” Tim sighed as he got up and sat and told them everything, everything from how to they had met to their first fight, to finding out the truth and to the previous night  

“So here I am now, hated by 95% of people at the performance center and with a brand new reputation now so yeah life’s great” Eli turned to Alli who had the same expression he had as they both looked at Tim, Alli being the first to speak as she sipped her wine and let out a deep breath “Tim, do you realize you’re in love ?”   “Yeah” he answered quietly, putting his fork down “I do, I realized it last night when I felt myself get angry when I saw her with Marcel enjoying herself. I wasn’t angry because I was jealous or felt possessive, I was angry because she wasn’t with me” Tim admits “because she wasn’t by my side enjoying herself with me and because in that moment it hit me that I majorly messed up. That I was an idiot who let 6 months go by all because I had to be right, I had the need to be in the right when I was in the wrong” “Deep shit” Eli nodded sighing “I just, I just really think you gotta let things cool down for a bit but also send her a text, do what she did to you all those months ago but in your case don’t stop. Do it till you get some kind of response back”  “Or maybe not” Alli said softly as she looked at her phone and showed Eli “Oh…” Tim looked up “what ? what happened ?”,  he looked as Alii gave Eli a nod and moved his eyes towards her phone. A soft breath escaping his lips as he stared at the image in front of him, a picture of Marcel and Maya’s hands intertwined via his IG account  marcel.barthel.wwe “Matching and hand holding with my favorite girl❤️👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨”

“Back together I see” Tim nodded “Well that’s perfectly fine, it’s their right” “I’m gonna um load the dish washer” Alli grinned as she got up quickly and left to the kitchen, Eli following shortly behind her   “Be right back man” he coughed leaving his phone behind on the table Tim looked around as he picked up the phone and unlocked it easily with Eli’s birthday, sure it was wrong as hell but curiosity had gotten the best of him. He quickly went to the instagram app and looked up Marcel’s profile, shaking his head when he saw everyone comment @candicelerae omg love birds ! I can’t handle the cuteness, double date soon please 😍 @thejohnnygargano what she said👆🏻, also u 2 make me wanna puke (in a good way) @indihartwell my other mom and dad, so cute 💕 @fabian.aichnerwwe so I take it you’re gonna take his gym pics now ? @wwestardestroyer I swear if you guys don’t get a damn room already 🤮🤮🤮 “Jerks” Tim muttered as he put the phone down and crossed his arms. Perhaps this was the end of good things for him, or maybe just this once he’d get out of his own shell and go for it.