#i read that at the time the paparazzi were on duty at the door of his house 24/7

[sincericida]

ANDREW GARFIELD and RITA ORA were pictured together in Primrose Hill, London | December 24, 2018.

If these pictures didn’t exist, I’d swear that this unexpected couple would have been a collective delusion.

(X)

[seungsuki]

idol - learning what real love is about (gn!reader)

warning: none

note: i don’t think you understand how much i like karma 

paparazzi swarm the idol who leaves the airport hoping to be left alone. a mask covers your exhaustion, and your legs almost give way. “the flawless star who greedily steals hearts”—a title the news loves to use as clickbait.

you returned to japan from your trip to germany. being an influential figure, you were invited to watch a match between a german team and a french team. coming back home, you realized how cold it was. christmas decorations covered the entire country. it was his birthday, and you looked forward to celebrating it.

you whispered to your manager about the cake you preordered. with the confirmation, you sighed in relief, bracing yourself for the huge crowd awaiting you beyond the airport gates. you knew the poor doors couldn’t hold back the crazy fans.

the security team surrounded you without you even asking. it was something you were accustomed to. the tired men were there to protect japan’s snow fairy. it was their extra duty, and you pitied them for having to work despite it being a holiday.

“[name], we’re ready,” one of the men spoke.

“alright. thank you,” you pulled your mask down to flash a tired smile.

just like that, you linked your arm to your manager for support. you knew how the pushing around would make you fall. your legs were at the mercy of the icy winds of japan. cursing your choice of outfit, you finally walked out of the protected gates. it was going to be challenging to reach the car, but you were determined. or maybe that was your poor attempt to gaslight yourself into making the situation less tiring.

you are surrounded by thousands of eyes that obsessively follow your every movement. how you just want to collapse on your bed after the long flight, but you can’t. it was already challenging to leave the airport in one piece. the gaslighting was of no use as your anxiety spiked and your sweaty palms nearly dropped your phone.

no one cares about your well-being. they were too busy pushing the security team to pass you gifts. letters were thrown around and stepped upon. the security team pushed everyone that came in their way. you could see some of your fans fall flat with tears.

your headphones blocked the screaming of your name. you increased the volume of the song you were listening to in hopes of drowning out your sudden feeling of claustrophobia. you hated crowds and often asked your fans not to disturb your peace, but it was a waste of time. your fans acted more like toddlers, throwing death threats and accusing you of not loving them enough.

apparently, you were supposed to be grateful for them showing up. oh, how you have to keep the millions of thoughts swarming your mind when you read those comments. it was always what the world wanted, not what you wanted, and you were supposed to just smile and wave. you knew that the media would twist your actions right now. you weren’t interacting with anyone, eyes glued to the ground so you wouldn’t fall. you knew that people would call you out, but you were tired. tired of everything life threw at you.

finally, you made it into the car your company had prepared. you caught the breath you had been holding in. beside you sat a pile of letters and expensive gifts your fans had thrown at you without a care. you didn’t blame them; anyone would love to be near their idol. what you didn’t like was the idea of your personal space being snatched away against your will.

picking up your phone, you looked down to see the time. it was time for school, a thought that made you internally groan. the lack of sleep was kicking in, and you could feel yourself becoming overwhelmed and agitated. you couldn’t change into your uniform as time was ticking faster than you could imagine.

lost in your thoughts, you were brought back to reality by notifications from your phone. specifically, a familiar ringtone different from your other notifications. you kept it different for him and him alone—your secret lover, karma akabane.

karma >:) coming to class?

the only person who ever saw you as human. your personal cheerleader who you only kept your eyes on. karma loved you even before your entire idol career. now, with a heavy responsibility on your shoulders, it was difficult to see each other. sometimes you wonder why he still stuck with you. he deserved better… so much better.

karma >:) i know you saw my message don’t ignore me i’ll smash your guitar

you laugh—a genuine laugh that hasn’t come out in a long time. he always knows how to make you happy. the guilt eats at you even more. he gave you his heart, and you know he deserves better… but you want to be greedy.

“the flawless star who greedily steals hearts,” you mumble to yourself, seeing the article pop up on your screen.

can you be greedy? you want to be greedy for karma’s love. in his opinion, you should be greedy for more. it feels wrong. you are an idol. japan’s prodigy, shining brightly under the applause of the audience.

you always fake your love for the world, faking the perfect smile as people gush over the genius idol. meeting karma was different. you learned true love for the first time. the cosmic light reborn, finally finding love.

you know what would happen if the media found out. they would eat you alive and never let you live the life you want. it feels wrong, but you want more. you want to love karma until he gets sick of it. he needs to know just how much you love him, even if it is wrong.

your secret love story is kept hidden from the prying eyes of the world. you can already imagine the maniacal smiles of the media, ready to do anything to get the hottest gossip about you, but you don’t care anymore.

you want karma to know how much you love him. he needs to know that this isn’t one-sided, even if it means you would get in trouble from your management

official_[name} has just posted!

© seungsuki 2024-25 -- do not repost, translate, alter, etc on any platform without permission. Any characters used in my work do not belong to me, they are created by their original creator. images used are from pinterest and i do not claim them as mine

[fernandoswarcrimes]

𝓘 𝓴𝓷𝓸𝔀 𝓹𝓵𝓪𝓬𝓮𝓼..

Summary: the one where they run but they don’t run far enough to not be found. - this is part three in the 𝓟𝓻𝓲𝓷𝓬𝓮𝓼𝓼 𝓟𝓻𝓸𝓽𝓮𝓬𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷 𝓟𝓻𝓸𝓰𝓻𝓪𝓶 series. Word count: 4.8k Warnings: Dimitri and Alexei trying to play masterminds & Gracie’s parents being awful per usual and doing the unthinkable. Upset Charles in this one I’m sorry guys💔 Note: part 4 will be just as eventful can you guess what will happen next?

Tag list: @pitchandgrid @yourmom-lmao @dessxoxsworld @yellowscuderia @buendiabebeta​@stillbreathin @flyingmushroomss @moneymasnn​@christianpulisic10 @pierre-gasssllyy @heavengirls111 @evans-dejong @hungryhungarian @glitterquadricorn @mariar31 @pitconfirmbutton @squirreljoe

It was quiet in the library as reality crashed down onto both men after reading what they just read from the article.

Leave it to the media to never leave anyone alone.

They didn’t know what to do, on one hand they had a duty to serve under the crown but on the other, they had taken an oath to look after Gracelinde like she was their own and that meant letting her explore things like any young girl should be able to do, Royal or not.

“We’ve got to do something about this.” Dimitri said grimly. This could blow up in all of their faces and the only one who’d be hurt the most would be Gracie.

Alexei just nodded, he knew they had to tread lightly before things got out of hand. “I know, I just hope we can get a hold on it before it hits the fan.”

Dimitri was certain they could but they’d never get the chance to.

Because the two were summoned to Albert’s office.

“What is the meaning of this?” Albert asked as he threw the newspaper down on the desk.

Dimitri and Alexei stood with their hands clasped behind their backs as they stared at the cover of the front page, it was the same thing they saw on the article, a picture of Gracie and Charles holding hands as they walked down the streets of the city, the fact the dark haired man never saw any paparazzi is what unnerved him the most.

“Well?” The prince of Monaco asked expectedly.

Alexei looked at Dimitri shaking his head slightly, he knew what he was about to do and it wasn’t going to end well. But Dimitri had promised himself he would always stick up for his little girl.

So he took a step forward.

“Sir, with all due respect, it was just a simple outing. The Stroll boy introduced the two at the race and figured they would be good friends since they both live and grew up here in Monaco. So I took her to meet him for lunch at La Pampa. I wasn’t going to let them go off on their own, you know that. I stayed close by no more than ten feet away and let them enjoy a simple lunch. He was nothing but respectful the entire time, even walking her back to the square after they wanted to take a walk to talk more-”

“Do I look like I care about how respectful the boy was, Tvardovsky? Just make sure she doesn’t see the boy again, the Stroll boy and Schumacher are one thing because of the families they come from. This boy on the other hand has no business around Gracelinde.” Albert said, just about tired of the conversation.

“Sir, you've invited him to the palace in the past, in 2019 he was here you’ve met him-” Alexei tried speaking up but was silenced by the Prince raising his hand which caused him to shrink back and stay quiet.

“It won't happen again. Am I clear?” He asked with a glare.

“Crystal.” Dimitri gritted out as Alexei just nodded before they both were dismissed from his office.

As the door clicked shut behind the both of them Dimitri took off down the hall causing Alexei to stumble as he tried catching up to him.

“She’s seeing him again.” The brunette man said with an unreadable look, almost of determination.

“What! No! Are you crazy!?” Alexei whispered loudly to his boyfriend and colleague, he had to have lost his damn mind to think they were going to just disobey royal orders like that. “Albert gave us specific instructions for her to not see him again Dimitri. We could get fired!” He tried to reason with the taller man.

Dimitri came to a sudden stop turning to look at the glasses wearing man as he pointed a finger at him. “If we get fired, so be it. But I’m not going to sit back and watch the both of them try to control her now that they see she’s found someone worth living for. So either you’re with me on this, or I’m doing it alone.”

Alexei just looked at him silently, before nodding. “Okay. Okay, let’s do this.” He reassured him that he was all in as well. He just knew it would end up biting them in the ass later if they weren’t careful about this. They couldn’t tell Gracie about this, about her father forbidding her from seeing the boy, not when they were fixing to come up with a plan to make sure things stayed under wraps.

It didn’t take them long to come up with a plan.

Dimitri had set out; it didn't take him long to figure out where Charles lived, especially working under the royal family; all he had to do was make a phone call and he had the boy's address.

Once he made it to the Ferrari drivers apartment he stepped into the lobby easily making his way upstairs to the boys floor and front door. He took a breath before knocking, if he wasn’t home he was going to slip a note under the door. But thankfully he didn’t have to because the bright eyed boy opened the door with a look of confusion before he registered who it was standing in front of him.

“Dimitri, nice to see you.” Charles nodded with a small nervous smile wondering what the older man was doing on his doorstep at 8am.

“Charles, nice to see you again as well. I realized that when you brought Gracie back to the palace that you had no way of contacting her again and she you. So I took it upon myself to come see you as a messenger of sorts.” The older man said with a nod, “May I come in?”

“Yes, yes of course please come in.” Charles said quickly as he stepped out of the way letting the brunette man into his apartment before gently shutting the door behind him.

“I’ve come by to let you know that Gracie does want to see you again, before you have to head out for your race in Azerbaijan. But I’m afraid we’ve run into a few issues.” Dimitri said as he stood in the boys living room. “It seems as though the media has caught wind of you two’s outing, and it’s gotten back to Albert who is less than pleased on the matter seeing as he and Nikolai’s parents have been trying to get the two to marry for the last few years now.”

Charles just stood there as he listened to Dimitri talk. Was he going to say that he couldn’t see the blonde girl anymore? He knew about the arranged marriage the two had, Gracie had told him how she was against it as was the dark haired boy who had a girlfriend himself.

“Now now, don’t fret. Alexei and I take pride in making sure Gracie is happy, and you have brought her more happiness in the one day you’ve spent together than in the whole seventeen years I’ve known her. So I'm not saying you have to stop seeing her. I'm saying if you’re going to then it needs to be well thought out and planned to a T to where we can throw the media off your guys trail they cannot know you two are seeing each other. Understand?”

“Yes, yes I understand, perfectly.” Charles nodded quickly, relaxing a little bit at hearing that he didn’t have to stop seeing Gracie but that they’d just have to do it in secret. He didn’t really know how well that was going to work but he was willing to give it a try nonetheless because he really liked Gracie.

So the two got to planning, he needed to leave by late Wednesday night to make it to Azerbaijan for media and things on Thursday. So they would go out together Wednesday morning and be back by Ten while Dimitri and Alexei would make a diversion with the media.

And so the plan began.

Charles had taken Dimitri's advice and taken Gracie on a day trip to Milan, both of them figuring it would be harder to spot the two of them in the Italian city unlike Monaco, which was very small and everyone practically knew everyone it was almost a foolproof plan.

The two had met up with Pierre who offered to take them around to different spots, he knew Charles had seen them already but that the blonde princess hadn’t, seeing as his best friend explained she didn’t get to get out much. He thought that was a bit sad.

Unlike Charles and Gracelinde, Pierre could walk freely about Milan without swarms of people following him or crowding him which made it easier for the three to just have a calm day blending in with everyone else touring the city. Even though the couple was dressed in minimal disguises just to be safe.

They did normal tourist things, grabbed lunch, shopped and enjoyed just being normal people for a while, something the three of them didn’t get to do very often due to their careers and being a royal. By sunset everything was winding down and Charles knew he had to get Gracie back before ten because Dimitri could only stall for so long.

“We should probably head back soon, it’s getting late.” Charles sighed, he didn’t want to have to bring the bubbly blonde back to the confined walls of the palace that overlooked the city they both grew up in but he knew he didn’t have a choice.

“Thank you again Pierre, for taking the time to hangout with us today. It was really fun.” Gracie smiled as she and Charles walked out of the restaurant with the Frenchman, they had a bit of a walk back to Charles' car so they chatted idly.

“It’s no problem really, Charles never shuts up about you. So it was great to officially meet you, us boys thought he was trying to pull a fast one over on us.” Pierre grinned when he saw how red Charles' face got at him, admitting that he had been talking about the blue eyed girl to the rest of the guys on the grid.

Gracie could feel Charles hand on her waistline, they were out in plain sight of the streets in Milan and had let it slip their mind that they were in fact very public figures as people whispered as they walked past by.

It was a bad sign.

As they got closer to Charles' car, Pierre stopped them so they could take a group photo. Charles hadn’t let them take any the whole day, more so just wanting him and Gracie to live in the moment but he figured one couldn’t hurt, to at least remember the fun they had today.

But Pierre being Pierre, absentmindedly posted the picture of the three of them on his Instagram story thinking nothing of it.

What the Frenchman didn’t realize was the domino effect that singular post would cause.

After Charles had helped Gracie get into the car he gave Pierre a bro hug before feeling his phone vibrate as he walked around to the drivers side, he pulled the device out to check it and paled at the notification.

“Pierre you’ve got to delete that” the Ferrari driver stressed after realizing his best friend had posted the picture of the three of them and tagged him, Dimitri had warned him that nobody could know that he and Gracie were still hanging out outside of him, Alexei, and her lady in waiting Annaslise.

Especially her parents.

A rule he had already harmlessly broken by meeting up with Pierre, but he figured his best friend could keep this to himself if Mick and Lance had known Gracie for years and never told a soul, but evidently not.

“Okay okay, my bad I didn’t know.” Pierre said as he quickly deleted the picture from his story two minutes after he posted it.

But unfortunately the damage had already been done.

Loose lips sink ships all the damn time, and love’s a fragile little flame that was going to get burnt out before it could even be fully lit.

Albert had people watching social media after realizing that Alexei and Dimitri were acting off, he had an inkling that Gracelinde was still seeing the Ferrari driver after he had told the two bodyguards that he didn’t want it happening again.

He should’ve known those two would eventually become a problem.

So when one of his men had informed him that a picture had been circulating on twitter of Gracie with Charles and his childhood friend it only solidified that they had defied his orders.

Charlene had been sent to the girls room, angry that she had gone against her fathers orders and seen the boy again when they had been planning the marriage between her and Nikolai for the last five years.

“We forbid you from seeing the boy and what do you do! You continue to see him Gracelinde! You’ve completely ignored not only Royal orders, but our orders!” Charlene shouted as she placed the suitcases on the younger girl's bed. “We had a plan for you, that would unite not only Monaco but Denmark and you’ve all but nearly ruined it now!”

Gracie had no idea what her mother had been talking about, nobody had told her that she couldn’t see Charles anymore. “I- I don’t understand nobody told me I couldn’t see him anymore??” She said softly, afraid of being shouted at again.

“Dimitri and Alexei knew you weren’t supposed to see him. It was an order they disobeyed.” Charlene bit out, as she finished packing the girls clothes and zipped up the suitcases. “You’ll be on the first train we can find later tonight. No more Alexei or Dimitri, they’ve crossed a line and will be dealt with accordingly. You are not to leave this room until then, understood?”

Gracie just looked at the woman who had brought her into the world who she used to look up to but the more she looked at the older woman standing in front of her she saw no signs of anything motherly in her at all. If anything Annalise was more of a mother to her than Charlene ever was, she wondered if the blonde woman ever even wanted her to begin with.

Sure she knew of her fathers affairs and the other children he had but they would never be allowed to take over the throne as heirs like she would be required to. The family had been in power for eight hundred years and they sure as hell wouldn’t let her ruin that whether she meant to or not.

All she could do was nod as tears streamed down her face. Charlene just looked at the girl for a second before shaking her head in disappointment with a loud sigh and walked out of the room slamming the door shut behind her making Gracie flinch as she let out the sobs she had been holding in not wanting to cry in front of the older woman in fear of pissing her off more.

She had been taught at a young age to never be out of line and crying was definitely out of line.

The only thing the blue eyed girl wanted was someone to love and care about her. Instead of trying to be forced into a marriage she didn’t want.

It wasn’t fair.

The blonde princess had been sitting on her window seat with her knees pulled up to her chest as she stared out the window, tears running down her cheeks as reality set in for her, they were going to send her away.

Annalise walked into the girls room and frowned seeing how sad she looked. “Oh Gracie girl” she said softly as she walked over to the young girl pulling her into a hug. The older woman hated seeing her upset. “It’s going to be alright cheri.” She said gently, running a hand over her blonde locks.

“They’re sending me away Annie” Gracie sniffled as she tried to hold back her tears. “They’re what?!” The auburn haired woman asked as she pulled back to cup the blonde girl's cheeks as she looked at her. “What do you mean they’re sending you away?” She frowned at the comment.

They couldn’t do that, they wouldn’t, she thought.

But oh they would.

“They found out that I was still seeing Charles, so they’re sending me away. They’re not even letting Mitri and Lexi come with me, Charlene said they’d be dealt with for disobeying orders.” Gracie sniffled as she tried to stop crying. It was just making her more upset the more she thought about it. She didn’t even know where she was going and she wasn’t allowed to know in fear of her escaping or telling someone where she was going.

Annalise thought this all had to be a joke, but seeing the suitcases sitting on the girls bed it all suddenly became a harsh reality. “I will see if they’ll allow me to come with you, it’s the least they could do. They can’t send you away by yourself, it wouldn't be safe.” Despite Gracie being twenty three she had been sheltered all her life so emotionally she was still a teenager, never allowed to experience normal things that all the other girls did outside of royalty. “Okay sweet girl? Now, dry those tears.” She said gently rubbing her thumbs over the girl's flushed cheeks kissing the top of her head. “I’ll see what I can do.”

Once the older woman left the room to go talk to her parents Gracie got up and walked over to her desk, she’d only have a few minutes to do what she needed to do. Pulling out a piece of paper and a pen she began writing as her tears fell on the letter quickly writing out what she could. She needed to let Charles know what was happening, that she wouldn’t ever forget the happiness that he brought her for the short time they’d known each other.

The blonde girl slipped the letter into the book Dimitri had let her borrow to read knowing he would find it and somehow make sure it got to the fellow Monegasque boy or at least she hoped he would.

Annalise tentatively walked into the Princes office after being told to come in.

“What is it Annalise don’t tell me there’s more problems that have come about I’ve about had it with that today.” Albert bit out as he looked up from his desk.

“No sir, I wanted to ask something of the two of you, if I may.” The French woman asked softly.

Albert glanced at Charlene and then motioned for her to go ahead.

“Gracelinde has told me of what is to come, and I would like to point out that wherever you plan on sending her to by herself isn’t safe. She’s hardly ever been outside the palace walls without people she has grown up around, she’d stick out like a sore thumb. But if you allow me to accompany her I’d watch her, and follow whatever instructions you give me to follow. I’ve never once stepped out of line and have proven my trust and loyalty to the both of you during all the years that I’ve looked after her and would like to continue to do so if you’ll allow that of me.” Annalise spoke calmly, but firmly.

She would not allow them to just send the girl away on her own, that would be like releasing something you’ve raised on your own into the wild expecting them to know how to fend for themselves. “She’s more likely to run off or escape if she’s not watched, but if she has someone she trusts around her she’s more likely to comply with the orders you give.”

Albert and Charlene thought it over for a few minutes; they knew the older woman wasn’t a threat like Dimitri and Alexei were. So they figured she wouldn’t tell a soul unlike the other two. Her willingness to follow orders had never been in question and she always followed whatever orders they had given her in regards to the girl.

So they allowed her to go along with Gracelinde.

The two boarded the train in Nice to London later that night. Albert and Charlene had given the auburn haired woman strict instructions.

Nobody was to know Gracie’s real name, the ballet school was already expecting enrollment under a false name, after a rather generous anonymous donation was made. The second they got to London she was to take Gracie to get her hair dyed auburn so nobody would suspect she was the Monegasque princess. If anyone asked she was the auburn haired woman's daughter.

Gracie felt like she was being made to live a double life like the Hannah Montana show Annalise let her watch as a kid, but only she couldn’t take a wig off, her parents had really ruined her life and stripped away any sense of normalcy she had grown to know over the past few years.

Charles on the other hand had a full two weeks, bouncing from Azerbaijan to Canada he didn’t hear from Gracie in that time, which wasn’t unlike her, he knew she had duties of her own to do so he thought nothing of it.

But when he got back to Monaco on the twentieth of June things felt

off.

The lively rich city for once felt barren and cold as the rain poured from the sky like angels crying. He remembered how Gracie had wanted to see him when he got back, at Le Petit Bar. It has quickly become their little spot. They both agreed to meet each other there at 6pm the day he got back.

But as he got there and the waiter led him to a table, he waited, and waited. He started looking around confused, Gracie was late, sure, he knew time could get away from her but she was never this late. It was nearing 7:30 now. He pulled out his phone to call Dimitri since the girl wasn’t permitted to have a phone but paused when two figures sat down across from him.

It was Alexei and Dimitri.

He didn’t see Gracie with them which was odd, she never went anywhere without at least one of them.

“She’s not coming, Kid.” Alexei said softly as he watched the younger boy look around confused, he hated that they had to break the news to him like this. It was breaking the glasses wearing man’s heart knowing how much Charles really cared about Gracie.

“What do you mean? Is she busy?” Charles asked, because he didn’t quite understand what was going on. Usually Dimitri would give him a heads up if something had come up and the blonde girl couldn’t make it. But something didn’t feel right with this. It made him feel sick to his stomach.

Dimitri sighed, rubbing his face, how was he supposed to tell the bright eyed boy that in the span of the two weeks he was busy bouncing across the world racing his heart out that her parents had up and sent her away like she was nothing but a burden to them all because they didn’t want her seeing him, didn’t want to let their daughter be happy for once, to actually be able to live her life with someone who would’ve cherished her more than they had.

“No son, she’s not here. They’ve sent her away, they somehow found out about you two’s trip to Milan. I don’t know how because we made sure it stayed airtight and nobody knew about it, somehow it got out and got back to Albert. He and Charlene had a meltdown and sent her away, we don’t know where they refused to tell us and wouldn’t let us go with her.” The brunette man said gravely still upset by the events that had happened over the past two weeks.

Charles felt his heart stop. He swore you could hear a hair pin drop in the restaurant, as they sat there.

No.

Pierre’s Instagram story.

The French boy never took the time to think before he posted anything and he just knew that's how people had found out and it got back to her parents despite him quickly deleting it.

People were always watching and someone snitched.

But hearing they had sent her away? They had just up and sent her away instead of letting her be happy?

What parents would ever do that.

He looked at the two with wide eyes, fearing that if he looked anywhere else he’d cry. His heart was breaking.

“We tried, we really did, kid. Trust me, we didn’t want her going as much as you didn’t. They only allowed Annalise to go with her, they didn’t see her as a threat unlike us, we disobeyed orders by letting her continue to see you.” Dimitri sighed. “We’re doing all we can to find her, we know they sent her out of the country but we can’t narrow it down to where, we know she’s in ballet so we’re trying to look at all the ballet schools across the globe to see if they had sent her to one of those or an all girls boarding school.”

Charles felt like everyone he loved was being ripped away from him, Jules, His dad, Anthione, and now his Gracie.

“You have a race coming up, Silverstone right?” Alexei asked tentatively, looking over at Charles who nodded gently, still trying to wrap his head around everything they had just told him. “The stroll boy, his father Lawrence? He could help. We’re under a gag order, if we talk or go looking for her they’d consider it treason against the country. But you and Lance can talk to him. He is the only hope of finding out where they sent Gracie. Nobody would ask questions if he went snooping around wanting to invest in a school under the guise of seeing if they have Gracie there.”

Dimitri nodded as he listened to Alexei speak, they had thought this through about a hundred times over. It was the only viable solution that they could come up with seeing as they couldn’t go looking for her themselves since Albert had people watching them. The two of them coming to talk to Charles was risky enough but they knew they at least had to let the poor boy know what had gone on in the span of the two weeks he had been gone.

“I’ll talk to him, Lance, he’ll want to help. He cares about Gracie a lot. I wouldn’t have met her had it not been for him.” Charles nodded, determined. He knew Lance would want to help, and would convince his father to help too. Lawrence didn’t like many people outside his family but he knew he had a soft spot for Gracie and would do anything for the bubbly blonde.

“Here kid, she left this, wanted me to get it to you.” Dimitri said, pulling the letter he had found in the book he let Gracie borrow a few weeks ago, out of his jacket pocket sliding it across the table to the boy as he and Alexei stood up. It would be the last time they’d see Charles for a while, hopefully the next time they’d see him their Gracie girl would be back home and safe but only time would tell.

Charles took the letter carefully, the beige envelope had “'il Predestinato” written across it in cursive and he knew he’d probably cry reading whatever was in the letter so he’d wait to read it when he got home. He nodded to the two older men. “Thank you. For coming and letting me know, I never would’ve known if you hadn’t. But I promise, I’ll do anything I can to help get her back.”

This was the one and only shot they had at finding their princess;

The only problem?

It would start a Great War if they succeeded.

[fratboykate]

Man, your bodyguard/celebrity AU have me hooked. Show us more of what it looked like earlier in the relationship.

Okay, this isn't exactly EARLY but it's early enough. They're not even engaged yet. It's 4k-ish words.

---

A firm knock booms through Kate's hotel room, signaling it's time to be whisked away to another whirlwind day of press events. As the door yanks her from her thoughts, she realizes she's momentarily forgotten which European country she's even in. Belgium, maybe? The constant disorientation from hopping from one place to the next is easily her least favorite part of being on the road.

This leg of the tour has been particularly wild ever since she and Yelena were thrust into the spotlight due to their relationship forcibly made public a week ago. Paparazzi seem to be lurking around every corner now, and every journalist she’s sat with since is fixated on prying into her personal life, leaving little room for discussions about her music or her upcoming television series.

But amidst the chaos, there's always a silver lining in the shape of a petite grumpy Russian. Every morning, it's Yelena who arrives at Kate’s suite to collect her. It's a small, stolen moment that Kate treasures, a chance to be alone with her love at the start of each day. It grounds her and sets the tone for anything the day might throw at her. While protocol dictates that security should wait outside her door and escort Kate down, ever since they started sleeping together, Yelena usually knocks once then enters using the spare key card Kate always makes sure she has.

Today, however, there's an unexpected second knock on the door.

"Baby, just come in.”

Kate calls out to the door as she hurriedly tosses the last of whatever she thinks she'll need for the day into her oversized purse. She pauses, expecting Yelena to enter the room. But seconds tick by, and still, there’s no sign of her. Huh?

"Yel, get in here! I need your help with this zipper thing. It's stuck...I think you pulled on it too hard last night."

A smirk tugs at the corner of Kate’s lips as memories of clothes being peeled off her body the night before jump to the forefront of her mind.

But still...nothing. The room remains silent, and confusion furrows Kate's brow. Kate briskly walks to the door and swings it open, only to be met with the unexpected sight of a tall, black man standing on the other side.

"Johnson?" Kate questions, her voice laced with surprise.

"Mornin', Miss Bishop. The car's ready for you downstairs." Johnson replies in a calm and professional tone.

"Where's Yelena?"

Johnson shifts uncomfortably on his feet, a hint of hesitation in his response.

"She's no longer on your detail."

A chuckle escapes Kate’s lips, assuming it’s a prank.

"Funny. Tell her to come up here. I need her."

However, Johnson's expression remains stoic as he reveals the truth.

"Miss Belova is no longer employed at Shield Security. I've been assigned to be your new Head of Security.”

Kate’s amusement evaporates. Offering no further comment, Kate abruptly turns away and unceremoniously closes the door in his face. She rushes to her bed and the phone that rests atop it. She dials Yelena. No answer. She calls again and leaves a voicemail this time.

"I'm really hoping you're running late and Johnson is in on the joke. Call me, please."

Growing anxious, Kate sends a text message as well. It reads: "Where are you?" Nothing. The silence only heightens her unease.

Kate rushes back to the entrance, nabbing her purse on the way. She opens the door.

"Take me to where you guys stay."

When they're not on duty, the permanent security team that travels with Kate usually lodges at a modest hotel, far from the lavish and ultra-expensive accommodations she gets in every city.

"Miss Bishop, we..."

"It wasn't a question. It was an order."

Johnson hesitates for a moment, but understanding the urgency in her tone, he acquiesces. Kate hovers by the door, allowing him to lead the way.

---

During the entire twenty-three-minute ride to the other hotel, Kate tirelessly taps away at her phone, sending one text after another to Yelena. Frustration mounts with every unanswered message, fueling both Kate’s vexation and her determination to find her. The car finally reaches the parking lot of the modest hotel, and Johnson promptly steps out, opening the door for Kate.

"What room is she in?"

"I don't have that information, ma'am."

"Find out for me then." Kate insists, her impatience palpable.

"I'll need a moment."

Johnson closes the door and steps away from the vehicle. Through the tinted window, Kate keeps a watchful eye on the man as he makes a phone call. The suspense builds. Moments later, he returns.

"Room 307, ma'am."

"Thank you." Kate mutters as she steps out of the car, her frustration evident.

Out of the corner of her eye, Kate sees Johnson trailing after her. She turns sharply and glares.

"Stay here." Kate asserts firmly.

"No problem, ma'am." Johnson responds, yielding to her command.

---

Kate climbs up the weathered stairs, each step creaking beneath her weight, and makes her way down the dimly lit hallway of the roadside hotel. The worn-out carpeting and faded wallpaper tell a story of countless travelers passing through. The air carries a faint smell of disinfectant and the soft hum of air conditioning units lingers in the background. This is the kind of place where business travelers and budget-conscious individuals seek respite, a far cry from the luxurious five-star housing Kate is accustomed to.

Kate steps in front of room 307, raises her hand, and knocks on the door. The sound echoes through the corridor, and after a moment, she hears shuffling and hurried movements from within.

"I told you I needed some time. I'll check out when I chec…” Yelena's voice trails off abruptly as she swings the door open, her words dying on her lips. Kate's gaze falls upon the two giant suitcases, half-packed and scattered on the bed and floor. Confusion and concern fill Kate's eyes as she takes in the disarray before her.

"What the hell is happening?” Kate asks with a mix of urgency and disbelief.

“Shouldn’t you be on the radio right now?”

"Fuck press. Why haven’t you been answering my calls or texts? And why is Johnson babysitting me now?...I hate Johnson."

Yelena steps away from the door and resumes methodically folding and packing clothes.

"I got fired."

"What?! You're MY security. Who fired you?"

“In case you forgot, you hire a security company who hires me. They aren’t big fans of the whole 'me sleeping with one of their most high-profile clients' situation. Got a call this morning. They're putting me on a plane back to the States in six hours."

Kate’s eyes widen in disbelief and anger.

"Bullshit." Kate grabs her phone from her bag. "Who do I call? Give me your boss’s number. How do I fix this?"

Yelena shakes her head, her voice filled with resignation.

"It's in my contract. We're not supposed to have personal relationships with clients or their staff. I breached it. It's done."

"I don't trust anyone else but you." Kate insists, her voice firm.

"Johnson may be a bit of a prick, but he’s a decorated SEAL. He's the next best thing...I actually suggested him for the job. He can keep you safe, so I'm glad they at least listened to that.”

"No. It's either you or no one."

Yelena's expression softens, her eyes meeting Kate's.

"Kate, don't be ridiculous. You need protection and I'm no longer in a position to provide it. Give Johnson a shot. He might grow on you."

"Did he ever grow on you?"

"No." Yelena's response is swift and straightforward.

"Exactly."

Kate approaches Yelena, resolve etched on her face.

"I need you, babe. YOU. No one else. I don't care how many medals they have or what they are. You're who I want."

Yelena’s expression softens, but a hint of sadness lingers in her eyes.

"Sometimes reality and what we want don't line up."

"Then we make it line up." Kate declares with conviction.

"Kate..."

Unwilling to back down, Kate gazes around the room, taking in the scattered bags and belongings. Her voice trembles with concern as she speaks next.

"Were you going to leave without telling me?"

"You have a hectic day, packed schedule. More important things for you to focus on. I would've texted you before the plane took off.”

"Did you honestly think I wouldn't notice you weren't with me until six hours from now?"

A hint of regret accompanies Yelena's admission.

"No. But I hoped you'd be too busy to come digging. Clearly, I was wrong.”

Irritation builds within Kate as Yelena continues to move around the room, putting the last of her things in the bag.

"Will you stop packing?! You're not going anywhere."

"The company pays for this room. They paid it because I was your Head Of Security. I no longer hold that position, so I have to vacate the premises regardless.”

Kate paces back and forth, her mind racing. Suddenly, an idea flashes across her face, a glimmer of hope in her eyes.

"What if you were?" Kate asks eagerly.

"What if I were what?" Yelena looks at her with a mix of confusion and caution.

"My head of security again."

"We just went over why that's not possible.”

Kate grows more insistent.

"If the problem is that the company I hired fired you, then I’m firing them and hiring you directly. I'll pay whatever Shield was paying you. Double it if you want. Plus, whatever else you need.”

Yelena shakes her head.

"Kate, don't be insane."

"Why not? Let's cut out the middleman. You'll be fully in charge, making all the decisions. Everything goes through you. Everything."

"I'm not taking your money." Yelena tells her firmly.

"You were already working for me anyway!"

"I was working for them. They assigned me to you. It's not the same."

“But it is! It is the same. Tell me what you need. We'll make it happen.”

“Kate, this isn't a game. You need security. Take Johnson. Let it be."

"M'kay, well, they're fired anyway. So, you either take the job, or I’ll have no security at all.”

"You can't threaten to ignore all protocols every time you don't get your way."

"I just did. I'll drive myself to the venue, open my own car doors, do my own security sweeps..."

Kate plays it up, fully aware that Yelena's patience is wearing thin. She continues to test the boundaries, hoping to elicit a change of heart.

"It's not as simple as me taking the job. I would need people..."

Yelena tries to explain, but Kate interrupts her, speaking over her.

"Hire them. Whatever you need."

"...but I don't have money to pay people..."

"I just told you to name the price. It's taken care of."

"...and even if I did, I would need to have a company to run payroll..."

"I can have my lawyers on it today."

Yelena groans, evidently piqued.

"In your world, you may be able to snap a finger and make things happen, but things are different for the rest of us. It's not just about money. There are licenses, background checks, insurance, and a million other things involved in running a security company. Stick with Shield. I can talk with Johnson, explain how you like things. Give him time. You'll get used to each other."

"I told you, it's you or no one. Shield is already fired. They're done. They made major changes to my team without consulting me. I don't trust them anymore."

"Your team has changed dozens of times while I've been with you and you've never been consulted. We get assigned to different places for different reasons. It's the way it is."

"Never my head of security!"

"Did they consult you when they brought me in, or did they just introduce us?” Kate has no retort to that because they didn't. Checkmate from Yelena. "Exactly."

"Doesn't matter."

"It does matter! It does!"

"Okay, I guess I'm driving myself around the city today."

Kate grabs her bag and heads for the door, deliberately walking down the hallway at a slow pace, giving Yelena time to react. She hears a loud groan and grumbling from inside the room. Finally, the door flies open, and Yelena pokes her head out.

"Get back in here," Yelena grits through her teeth with exasperation.

Kate smirks briefly before putting on a stoic expression, turning to face Yelena, and walking back into the room.

"Look, having money can be a good thing. You need guys? Poach whoever you want from Shield. Double their salaries. I don't care. We'll figure out payroll and whatever other boring legal things need to happen. My business manager and lawyer will have solutions for you. I just need you to say 'yes'. You're amazing at this. Why wouldn't you be your boss?"

Yelena sighs and sits on the bed, contemplating the offer for a long beat.

"This has never been about your money or what you can or can't do for me."

"Oh my god! Not this again. You've never asked me for a single thing. You won't even let me pay for food if it's only us. I know. I know. You're not using me. I don't feel used. Never have. You're the only person I trust. You're doing it for me, not the other way around."

Yelena ponders for a long beat, considering the implications.

"Whatever this costs...legal fees, your business manager's time, state and federal costs to set up the company, anything...I'll reimburse you."

"You're so annoying." Kate smirks and rolls her eyes.

"I'm not with you for your money or status or...whatever." Yelena assures her.

"I've never doubted that."

"I don't want your team to think I'm taking advantage of you."

"They won't."

"All of a sudden, you'd be bankrolling my life, making a company for me...it's..."

"Their priority is to keep me safe. They can't make money if I'm dead, so it's in their best interest to get behind things that guarantee I stay intact. We all know the best person to make sure that happens is you."

"It looks shady from the outside, Kate. I need you to acknowledge that. People talk and I don't want them thinking I'm trying to exploit you or steal from you."

"It's not like I'm throwing money at you for nothing. I'm paying for a service and your expertise. It's business."

"Business and pleasure shouldn't be mixed. "

"We crossed that bridge a LONG time ago."

"And look at where it got us."

"What? Me being happier than I've ever been, you getting the opportunity to start a company, and us being able to finally sleep in the same bed together...all night...without one of us having to sneak out? Sounds like it got us something good.” Kate counters with a grin.

"You always oversimplify things."

"And you always over complicate them."

Yelena's phone receives a text message, causing her to glance at the screen.

"Sam wants to know if I know where you are. I can't believe you blew your press day. Emily is going to be furious."

"Oh, she was calling me the entire ride here." Kate responds nonchalantly.

"Why would you piss off your publicist? That's almost rule number one of things you should never do."

"I had bigger things to worry about."

Kate approaches Yelena and swings her leg over the blonde’s lap. As Kate straddles Yelena, pressing kisses to her pulse point, Yelena's body responds involuntarily. Her head tilts back, granting Kate greater access to her neck. In the midst of their intimate moment, Yelena's eyes flicker open, and she glances at the clock on the bedside table.

"I can still probably get you to your 11:00 AM on time. You might need to do your makeup in the car so you're camera ready by the time we get to the studio, but I think we can make it."

"You don't even want to celebrate that you're a fancy, super important CEO with her own firm now?”

Yelena chuckles, her lips tantalizingly close to Kate's as she replies.

"I'm none of those things."

Kate's lips ghost over Yelena's teasingly.

"But you are. And since you're the Big Boss now, you probably need practice with disciplining people. A lot of bad employees out there. It'd be irresponsible of me to let you do something like this without knowing you're REALLY ready to take control."

As Kate grinds on Yelena's lap, Yelena's fingers instinctively dig into the younger woman’s thighs, leaving marks.

"Have I ever given you any doubts that I can take control?"

Yelena raises an eyebrow. Kate shrugs like the brat she is, and a playful smirk appears on her face.

"Probably. Can't really remember now. I've got a terrible memory that needs constant refreshing, or I forget things."

"Hmmm...I see."

Yelena's eyes lock with Kate's as they study each other intently. In this close proximity, Yelena can count even the most minuscule flecks in Kate's blue eyes. The intensity and underlying lust she reads in them cause Yelena's facade to crack, revealing a genuine smile.

"What am I supposed to do with you?" Yelena wonders aloud. Just as Kate is about to respond, a mischievous smirk already forming on her face, Yelena interjects. "Not in the dirty way, Kate Bishop. In general."

Kate pouts playfully.

"Always ruining my fun."

Yelena chuckles.

"Am I?"

Kate nods, leaning in to press her lips against Yelena's. The electricity in the room grows more charged, the space now filled with desire and unspoken words.

"Show me what you want to do...in the dirty way...first and I'll tell you what to do with me in general after." Kate whispers teasingly.

"You're impossible." Yelena shakes her head, filled with amusement and exasperation.

"I think that means you need to get me under control, no?" Kate challenges, her eyes sparkling.

"I guess it does."

Yelena concedes, leaning forward and pushing Kate's back onto the sliver of open mattress next to her half-packed suitcase.

"Still kind of weak for a CEO." Kate teases some more, poking at Yelena's pride.

A low growl escapes Yelena's throat. Kate is in trouble now, and she knows it. The thought of making it to the 11 AM interview quickly fades from both of their minds.

---

Yelena steps into the sprawling mansion she once called home. It has been weeks since she was last here, ever since she made it clear to Kate that her requests for a divorce were genuine and non-negotiable. The familiar space now feels foreign and strange to her.

"Kate." No answer. "Kate."

Nothing. Yelena calls out a few more times, but there is no response. She moves further into the house, searching for her estranged partner. Eventually, she finds Kate sitting in the office, gazing at the view.

"Kate."

Kate's head turns towards the entrance, their eyes meeting in a moment of silence. Neither of them speaks, but the apprehension hangs heavily in the air. After a brief pause, Yelena shifts her shoulders, a sign of her trepidation and stress.

"You came."

"You didn't really seem to give me a choice...What? What is it? What's so important that you couldn't talk to me about it over the phone?" Yelena asks, her voice tinged with a hint of frustration.

Kate looks at her desk and picks up a document, reading its contents with a furrowed brow.

"'Notice of Termination of Services: Your client is hereby formally notified that, within a maximum period of 30 days, Belova Security will cease to provide its services. We kindly request that you promptly identify and establish contact with an alternative security company to ensure a seamless and efficient transfer of responsibilities.' What the hell is this, Yelena?" Kate's tone is laced with a mix of confusion and frustration.

"Official notice that you should find new security."

"Why would you do that?"

Yelena looks at her, perplexed.

"Are you being serious?"

"You don't need to be involved. I get it if you don't want to be. But I still want to keep using your company for my security."

"That's absurd."

"I don't trust anyone else."

"You just said I wouldn't have to be involved, so what difference does it make."

"It makes a difference to me. I know how you run things and I know that even if it's not you personally overseeing this, your team is still the best. I can simply be another one of your clients. I don't expect special treatment. I don't expect you to deal with the day-to-day stuff. I still want to be on your roster regardless.”

"I'm not going to argue with you, Kate."

"Then don't. Let me do this. It's not some excuse to get you back into my life. I understand that you want nothing to do with me. I respect that. This is purely business."

Yelena pauses for a moment, contemplating the situation. After a long beat, she lets out a sigh. Yelena would never admit it, but she wouldn't trust Kate's security to anyone else either. No one knows her as she does. So even though she will take a step back, it's comforting to know that she’d still be in charge if anything were to happen.

"Strictly business."

"Understood."

"I'll keep Alexei as your lead, then. But I'll make sure they run any significant personnel changes by you first."

"Thank you."

"Yeah."

Yelena starts to leave, her steps heavy with unresolved emotions. Kate hesitates, a mix of concern and regret swirling within her. She wants to say something, to offer some semblance of comfort, even if it may not be enough.

"Yel..." Yelena reluctantly turns, the sound of her nickname sending a shiver down her spine. "Are you okay?"

"Let's keep things professional, Kate."

Kate's heart sinks at the distant tone in Yelena's voice. She desperately wants to bridge the gap between them, to mend what has been broken, but Yelena has made it more than clear that reconciliation is off the table.

"I'm sorry. I truly am." Kate whispers, her voice filled with sincerity.

"You've said that." Her pain lingers right beneath the surface.

"I want you to hear it regardless." Kate continues, her voice tinged with vulnerability.

Yelena offers a slight nod, a subtle acknowledgment of Kate's apology, though the wounds between them remain raw and unresolved. With a somber air, she reaches for her sunglasses, slipping them on to cover her eyes, not just from the scorching hot day, but also to conceal any traces of vulnerability that might surface. It's a defense mechanism, a way to protect herself from further pain. And with that, she turns and walks away, leaving Kate behind.

As the reality of the situation settles upon her, Kate's composure crumbles like fragile glass. Tears stream down her face; each drop a testament to the depth of Kate’s remorse for the pain she has inflicted. With every sob that escapes her lips, the echoes fill the empty space Yelena left behind, reverberating through the void that now exists between them. The sound of her heartbreak intertwines with the emptiness, creating a haunting tune of sorrow and regret. At that moment, Kate is left to confront the magnitude of her actions and the profound loss she feels without Yelena by her side.

[cyberxilophone]

Gazelle's Body Double

After the famous pop star, Gazelle, goes missing, it's up to the Zootopia police department to quell the public's panic with a body double... Even if it means that they have to get it by less than legal means.

Nick passed through the massive doors of the Zootopia police precinct. With Judy away on a vacation trip she had been saving for a special moment, the newly appointed police officer was beginning to see the drier parts of his work. Nothing beyond surveying the evidence room and roaming the streets to put tickets on people that really didn’t deserve it, but neglecting his duties had already gotten him many an earful.

There was some comfort when he saw that one of his coworkers seemed to share his gloomy predicament. Clawhauser, usually a bundle of joy that was as sweet as the donuts he was addicted to, looked completely the opposite. His eyes were sunken, lidded eyes with a surrounding 

“What’s the matter, big guy?”

“Aw, Nick…” Clawhauser leaned on the counter. His hand rested on top of his rotund cheek as he wistfully looked at the ceiling, almost as if he wasn’t completely there. “It’s just… Something tragic!”

“Oh, what’s the matter?”

“Haven’t you been checking social media?” Clawhauser’s voice escalated into just a few decibels away from full-on screaming. He slammed his hands on the counter before scrambling to get his phone, then proceeded to shove it into Nick’s face. “Look! It’s a national emergency!”

Nick flinched. He had to readjust his eyes to Clawhauser’s excessive amount of brightness on his phone to read what the article said. 

“Um… are you referring to that article about a soda company changing its logo?”

“Huh? No! Let me just…” Clawhauser scrolled all the way up. “Look!”

“Hm… ‘Gazelle reported missing as she didn’t appear in a recent community event’” Nick’s eyebrows raised slightly. “So our little international star is missing, huh? I guess it was just a matter of time before she got into a scandal.”

“S-Scandal? What if she’s in danger, Nick? Don’t you remember-”

“-Golden hours, yeah. She’s probably safe, though. This thing always happens with celebrities. They get a little wild, be they prey or predators.” Nick chuckled at the thought of Gazelle escaping the paparazzi doing god knows what, although Clawhauser didn’t seem to share the sentiment.  “Aaaaanyways, no need to look so glum. I’ll talk to Bogo about it, since I have a meeting with him.”

“Please do! All the followers on my fan page are as panicked as I am, and I need to be strong for them! TeamGazelle can’t endure so much stress!”

Nick’s expression contorted into something that he couldn’t quite describe. “Uh, sure! I’ll make sure that your… team is safe and sound, no need to worry.” He bid Clawhauser adieu before strutting towards Bogo’s office. 

Nick wasn’t afraid of the boss before being a police officer, and he sure as hell wasn’t afraid now that he had seen the more vulnerable parts of the buffalo. If anything, he was less afraid of the prey now, even with the massive difference in height and strength between the two.

He didn’t bother knocking before coming into Bogo’s office. He heard him huff at the act of irreverence, but Nick didn’t pay it any mind. He comfortably slid into a chair that was far too big for him and crossed his legs. His tail flopped up and down as he eagerly awaited to get this impromptu meeting over with.

Bogo turned off his phone and slid it to the side. His scowl was piercing, far fiercer than whatever a small predator like Nick could even dream of portraying. “So, Wilde. I see that you are still as cheery as ever.”

“Guess I am. Glad to see that our local police chief is still as stern as ever. We need someone to be on the prowl in case someone, I dunno, doesn’t pay up a parking meter or something.”

Bogo closed his eyes, pressed his lips together, and repressed the urge to punch Nick. He had a duty to do, and he couldn’t cause a scandal, lest someone butt in and interfere with the top-secret mission that Lionheart had assigned him and him alone. He tapped his fingers against the glass atop his wooden desk as he recollected his thoughts.

Alright, Bogo. It’s simple. Just be casual and offer it to him. He won’t know what hit him, so you’ll be okay…

“Do you perhaps know about the recent Gazelle case?” Bogo awkwardly coughed. It was clear that it was the farthest possible from being convincing, but the buffalo kept trucking on. “Well, I wouldn’t call it a case, perse. It’s something more akin to a series of allegations, but still worrying nonetheless.”

“Oh my god, you too? I can’t believe this…” Nick couldn’t manage to hide the smile that crept up around his muzzle. Quiet but sharp chuckles escaped the sly fox as he pictured Bogo panicking to the same degree as Clawhauser. “Don’t tell me that we’re launching a full-blown investigation to find her. Come on, she has to be in a random multimillion hotel with her seeeecret lover or something like that.” Nick playfully suggested.

“Of course not, Wilde. Don’t be ridiculous. This is just the result of paranoid paparazzi being forced to put out an article, however…” Bogo turned on a laptop and turned it around for Nick to see the content. “...Look at all these comments. When something like this happens, hysteria inevitably breaks out. If people start panicking, they’re prone to speculating and believing anything they can latch to.”

The humor suddenly faded from the situation for Nick. He straightened himself and crossed his arms. “So the information gets all crossed up and we have to waste time figuring out fact from fiction.”

“Good. At least you know why we’re worried. We haven’t seen anything yet, but we’re anticipating an avalanche of misinformation in a day or two.”

“Well, that’s not good. What are we going to do? Are we going to release a press statement or something like that?”

Bogo shook his head. “No. With Gazelle’s passionate fanbase, they will not be satisfied by such a nonconclusive answer. We have to do something that will satisfy the public’s curiosity.”

“What do you propose then?”

“A body double. A total duplicate that can act on the real Gazelle’s stead while we figure out where in the world she went to.”

Nick’s laughter came back immediately at the sheer absurdity of the suggestion. “Really? A body double of the massively popular pop star? Do you know that people zoom into every single pixel of her body?” The fox shook his head. “It’s not gonna be convincing-”

“Lookalikes are a thing, Wilde. I’m surprised that you’re so pessimistic, considering what a resourceful fox you are.”

“Pfff, tugging at my ego, are you?” Nick rolled his eyes at the poor attempt at flattery. “It’s not like I have any choice, considering that you’re the chief. So, you want me to find a lookalike? I’ll try my best, but don’t expect her to be around the corner.”

Bogo crossed his arms and sported an uncharacteristic smile. “Oh, believe me. There’s gonna be a gazelle stand in nearer than you think. It’s just a matter of looking within yourself to find her.”

“Wow, that’s a bad inspirational speech. You gotta work on that.” Nick turned to the door, but as soon as his paws gripped the doorknob, Bogo shouted.

“Wait! Before you go, I have another thing for you. It is not another assignment, do not worry.”

“Ugh…” With a disgruntled sigh, Nick sat back on the chair with his starting bad posture. “What is it, now? Gonna give me a promotional flyer about how we policemen are the absolute best or something like that?”

Bogo chuckled. “Nothing of the sort. It’s something that I’ve been saving out of my pocket money to give to the newest member of the Zootopia police department.” 

He bent down and picked up something that was resting next to his chair. He placed it on the table with pride; a pink, transparent glass bottle with a pink gold ribbon on the center. There was a fizzy, carbonated liquid of the same color. It looked like champagne, with very slight differences that Nick could only spot thanks to his long experience with trading alcohol with Finnick.

“Oh, well that’s a surprise. Where did you get this beauty? I haven’t seen anything like this… ever, really!”

“It’s a new product. It’s called transformer en fille. Straight up from international markets. It’s a prototype I got through… uh, connections. I can’t say. You know how contracts go.”

“Woooow! Bogo, I didn’t know that you appreciated your workers so much!” Nick teased. He moved the bottle around to inspect it further. Just touching it made him feel poor. 

“It’s perfectly okay. No need to be so modest. I thought that since I’m dropping this mission on you out of a sudden, I could make it up to you with a toast. Think of it as a celebration for five months on the force.”

“Man, you’re gonna give me diabetes with how sweet you’re being, Bogo.” Nick playfully waved at the buffalo. “Man, even risking some punishment by drinking on the job? You’re out of control, chief!”

Bogo murmured something under his breath as he looked away from his target. Pulling two shot glasses out of his desk’s drawer, he moved on without waiting for Nick’s approval. If push came to shove, Bogo could force him to stay, be it with persuasion or by force. 

He popped the cork off without too much struggle and poured the liquid. He struggled slightly to not spill the drink all over his desk, but he managed to keep it mostly dry.

“Well, I’m not someone who can turn down a nice drink. You got me convinced, boss.” Nick took the glass and rose it into the air. “To a successful investigation.”

Bogo chuckled under his breath. “I’m sure that it will be a very successful investigation.”

The two men pressed their glasses together with a satisfying ‘clink’.

Bogo pretended to take a sip while Nick drink to his heart’s delight. He had to be careful that his body didn’t digest the ‘drink’, not even a single drop. His eyes remained glued to Nick’s neck, eyes widening when he saw the fox’s Adam’s apple bob slightly.

Bingo.

“Wow, this is sweet! It feels like I drank liquid cotton candy, chief.” Nick clicked his tongue to relieve himself of the overwhelming sugary afterglow, but it was for naught. “Oof, and it’s very strong as well. I don’t think that even a glass of water is gonna help me with lessening the taste.”

“It’s an… acquired taste for sure, Wilde.” Bogo was counting the seconds in his head. His large, meaty fingers tapped on the glass as his eyes glued themselves to the clock. Each tick of it made another drop of sweat travel down Bogo’s side. “I-I also had something else to tell you, Wilde.”

“I think that we should discuss it at a later hour, boss. I don’t think that I can get your body double by staying inside your office all day.”

“It’s important, Wilde! I will not allow this irreverence-”

“Let the professionals of the streets handle this, alright?” 

Nick stood up and turned around, but instead of strutting out of the office, he suddenly froze. It was like his brain had stopped functioning for a second. His eyes suddenly lost the glow that signalized that he was truly there, turning almost… empty. 

“Wilde?”

“N-ngh…” He suddenly clenched his teeth. Nick’s fangs ground against each other furiously as his fur frazzled out. “W-what is… Grngh… happening…?” His mind raced back and forth, like two opposite ends were pulling his brain in a tug-of-war-esque manner until it would inevitably snap in two.

“Don’t panic, Wilde,” Bogo said in a deadpan tone. “Just stay still for a few minutes and everything will become better.”

“B-Boousgh?” 

Small, electric twitches pulsed through his body. Nick convulsed slightly with each passing, his expression constantly shifting on a rotation of undecipherable emotions that looked simply wrong. Half of his face would be an excessively curved smile and a clenched eye while the other half would leave his mouth open, his tongue hanging out of it.

The drink’s aftertaste only got more unbearable. It was like his saliva had turned into liquid sugar. It slowly trailed down his neck and to the top of his uniform. His fingers jerked around as his arms remained paralyzed.

“Breathe in and out, Wilde. It’ll help you remain stable.”

Bogo didn’t know if Nick nodded or if his convulsions had gotten more intense. He constantly played out the rundown of how the procedure would go down that Lionheart had given him earlier that day. 

Nick’s chest began to heat up. It was like a slowly hearing iron had been pressed against his chest. Whatever functional parts of his brain screamed at him to try and take off the uniform or do something about it, but the commands would simply scramble into gibberish that would do nothing but increase the head-splitting pain in his brain.

“G-gah… Guh…”

From the outside of his chest feeling as if it was being scorched, the inside began to stretch. Nick wasn’t imagining it, he was sure of it. He moaned as his muscles pulsed with electricity, each beat causing them to grow. 

His chest’s muscle mass expanded outwards. His previously flat pectorals began to slowly expand, gaining a doughy, soft complexion. They pressed against his uniform, stretching the fabric to a degree that it was clearly not designed for. 

His shirt slowly fell victim to his soft, broadening breasts. The buttons sewn into the clothing slowly began to come undone as they were forced to contain a pair of growing breasts.

Gaps between the buttons began to form, revealing the light orange fur underneath. As Nick’s torso began to squash and stretch, his shirt suffered under the constant shift in size. It slowly but surely went from looking from the dignified uniform to a crop top that did a poor job at hiding his taller and more importantly, feminine figure.

“W-wha…”

Nick’s eyes darted back and forth around the room, trying to make sense of whatever the hell was happening. He was compelled to touch and inspect his soft, tender breasts, but the paralysis from the neck down still remained. All he could do was stare in awe at it.

Just like the rest of his body, his cheeks were burning up vigorously. He kept looking at his newly acquired ‘assets’. His mind kept trying to catch up with the discrepancy of his changing body. His tiny legs were supporting the body of a woman, with features as voluptuous as the one of a model. 

His back suddenly felt tense as if needed to carry the sudden new weight that had been plopped on him. It was like weights attached to his nipples had been permanently sewn onto him. Each twitch that his body did only causing them to jiggle with the complexion of jelly, the movement alone causing Nick to gasp and inhale sharply to suppress the sudden arousal.

Bogo knew that Nick wasn’t done. Far from it. He adverted his gaze from Fox’s now feminine and tall chest to the limbs that were connected to it.

His arms suddenly became loose and limp after a sudden spasm. They hung from his body as if they weren’t even connected to his torso properly. Nick’s previously short and petite arms began to contort, moving back and forth until they began to stretch outwards as if they were made of rubber.

With a satisfying snap, Nick’s arms snapped into their new place. Nick’s posture couldn’t handle the constant change and suddenly turned excessively crooked. The fox’s arms reached all the way down to the area of his legs below his knees. 

However, the disparity would not remain for long. The same scalding sensation began to manifest in his legs. Nick desperately tried to use his constantly twitching fingers to soothe the intense sting of his body’s growth, but he was far too powerless to do anything about it.

His entire body suddenly skyrocketed as his legs stretched upwards. For a few seconds, his newly granted height caused his legs to wobble at the sudden increase of weight that his feet were forced to accommodate. His pants now only reached above his knees, the fabric skin tight.

The situation only worsened once he felt the same sensation that his pectorals experienced earlier, only that this time that same burning sensation spread all over his thighs. It was like a wildfire caused by gasoline; nothing could stop it. Nick’s thighs expanded outwards. His legs, thin and lacking in meat, had now become excessively plump. 

His pants barely managed to hold on, now having risen up even further. A single millimeter further and the jeans’ behind would’ve been torn to shred and revealed a pair of equally torn undies, a perfect show of his now blubbery ass 

It was like the sensation of having a fever had spread throughout his entire body. While it was unbearably painful, the warmth that it brought was almost infectious. Each second that he spent begging for it to stop, Nick spent two seconds begging to experience this sensation. Swirling combat between panic and embracing this chaos ran rampant.

It was almost like the sensation of just having just finished a workout. His entire body had turned stiff and sore in a matter of seconds, but with the pleasure that came with it being stronger in tenfolds.

“W-woah, uh… Waahh…” 

His entire body continued to vibrate with the intensity of someone having a seizure. He looked at Bogo, whose stare was vacant and unflinching. Nothing short of utter nonsense left Nick’s mouth as he attempted to communicate his distress amidst the warm and almost erotic sensation of his body changing so rapidly.

“M-my body-”

“Give it a rest, Wilde.”

Nick was about to protest, but then he felt his tongue suffer the same kind of paralysis. His mouth felt like it was on fire as the area surrounding it began to stretch forward and compact itself to the sides. 

Then, his breathing came to a sudden halt. It was just like being choked. His neck compressed itself into a thinner, slimmer version of itself. His head was pushed upwards and the world only got harder to comprehend. With all his life spent under four feet, the sudden shoot of height had left him disoriented. It was like being on stilts that had been permanently glued to his feet.

“G-guuhaw?! GRK!” 

Nick could feel the seconds ticking away. His head spun as the mix of whatever was happening to him and the lack of oxygen destroyed whatever sense of balance he had. He fell to the ground as he put his hands around his throat in an attempt to do something about his current predicament.

Everything became blurry. His usually carnivorous strength had left him a long time ago. Right now, he was helpless to whatever was happening right now. Everything was incomprehensible. Nothing made sense.

A few minutes ago, he was a male fox that was ready to serve his duty to the force. Now, he was an animal with the body of a woman. He had breasts that just ached to be touched and thighs that demanded to be gripped by the hands of someone stronger than him.

“Mmmmhp! A-ah, ah…”

“Just wait, miss. Give it five more seconds.”

Pushing through the need to curse out Bogo and claw his smug and collected face and followed the cold buffalo’s advice.

One… Two… Three… Four…

“-Five!” 

Nick placed his hands over his mouth as he realized that the sound that he had just heard had come out of his mouth. It wasn’t his suave, charismatic voice. Not even close, but it was still familiar. He had heard that tone that carried both confidence and sensuality. The voice of a seductress pop star that had captured the hearts of many all across the world.

“W-what? But… I’m not…” 

Nick panicked and turned to the window. His reflection showed that his vibrant orange fur was slowly beginning to transition into that recognizable cream color. It started at the bottom of his feet, which he only now noticed had been replaced with hooves that looked squeaky clean.

The cream color continued to creep upwards, consuming all the original color of his fur. Once the color reached his thigh, it made quick work of his tail. The muscle twisted itself repeatedly, causing Nick to shriek. It spun on itself as the fox winced in agony. That same fiery, acute sensation persisted until it had been spun so much that it had reached the size of his fist.

Then, his muscles morphed into that same size. It was like the muscle had melted in on itself and then restructured again with that form as the new permanent state. The bushy, petite tail had been colored in accordance with the rest of his body.

“B-Bogo! Stop this right now, I mean it!”

“I’m sorry, Wilde. Mayor’s order. It’s just to prevent panic. We promise.” 

“Oh, you’re being ridiculous! I need to…” 

Nick knew what he was about to say, but when the time came for him to speak, it was like the memories just vanished into thin air. What was he doing to do after he left? He gripped his head in an attempt to force the answer to come back, but it was to no avail. It was like after those five seconds, everything about him had just… stopped existing.

Bogo stood up. That same uncharacteristic, foreign smile that stretched from ear to ear was painted on his face as he approached the transformed police officer. His hands were clasped together, and his posture had gone from stiff to relaxed in the blink of an eye.

“I’m sure that you were going to explain why you missed that important event, Miss Gazelle,” Bogo explained. “After all, your fans are all very worried about your unexplained absence. Would you be so kind to follow me to the TV station?”

“G-Gazelle?! I’m not Gazelle!” Nick’s feminine voice screeched. He pushed the sudden tuff of hair that had grown out of his forehead away from his view and stomped towards Bogo. “I’m-”

“Gazelle. The famous pop star and dancer, as we have established.”

“I.” He poked Bogo’s chest with her brand-new hooves. “AM.” He poked again, this time harder. “NOT.” Nick made sure that it was enough to drive the point home. This was over, it needed to be over. “GAZELLE!”

“Then who are you, miss? Because you look like Miss Gazelle to me.” 

Bogo brought his hand to Nick’s shoulders. His digits were so large that they went almost all the way to Nick’s shoulders. He forcefully turned him around so that he would be forced to gaze fully at his reflection in the window. Nick tried to break free and look away, but Bogo remedied that by holding Nick’s head with both of his hands, making sure to apply pressure even if it came at the cost of his victim starting to engage in a screaming fit.

“You. Are. Gazelle.”

“No, I’m-”

“You are a pop star that is on her way to the TV station to make a statement.” Bogo made sure that his words were slow but methodical. It was so that they would drill themselves into Nick’s brain. “You are a wonderful woman.”

“I’m a… woman…?”

“Yes, yes… You are famous, and you love the attention that men will give you.” Bogo’s left hand moved to caress Nick’s breasts. He made sure to be gentle with him, let him soak in the bliss and pleasure of his new body. “This… is your new life. Your dancers have missed you as well! They miss running their big, muscular bodies against your own, Miss Gazelle…”

“Mpphm!” 

Nick moaned, fake memories beginning to form inside him. The process was like a snowball that increased in potency the more time passed. With each second, entire years’ worth of memories began to fill his mind, and in turn, whatever remained of the fox was totally erased and assimilated into the Gazelle persona.

“Yeah, maybe… Maybe I need to give my fans a show~” Gazelle posed to accentuate her figure.

Bogo smiled.

[lovelyrocker]

No Mercy

~RPF

~Pairings: Timothee CHalamet x Reader

~Warnings: Cheating, Angst

~Word Count: 809

You sat on the floor of your bedroom, tear stained cheeks again. They say the first year of marriage was the hardest, but things didn’t go downhill till year two. You’d stood by Timothee’s side through the lost roles and the rumors and paparazzi. When he really started picking up traction with his career you were the dutiful wife that held things together for him and kept him grounded. 

Two and a half years later and it's like he forgot he is married. The arguments about stupid things were happening so often it’s like you couldn’t stand to be near one another. 

“Open the fucking door!” Timothee banged on the opposite end. 

“Sleep on the couch!” You snapped back through the door. “Or better yet, call Lily!”

“It’s not what it looked like! Please let me in!” The door swung open, and Timothee nearly fell in. “Geez!”

“How is it not how it looks?! You were so close you can’t even tell if you were kissing or not!”

“I wasn’t! I swear!”

“Tim, this isn’t the first time! Just admit it!”

“Admit what?!” He gestured with his hands. “I didn’t-”

“Shut up!” You stopped him from speaking. “I cannot hear another lie from you! I cannot take it at this point!” 

“Fine!” He walked out and slammed the door.

A few hours later Timothee pushed the door open of the bedroom. He’d been gone for a while now and as soon as he sat next to where you lay on the bed you smelled the alcohol. 

“I’m sorry.” Timothee spoke, you’re back facing him as he sat on the edge of the bed. “Baby,” He placed a hand on your arm. You turned sitting up, facing him. “I need to tell you something.” You looked at him waiting for him to continue. “You were right. About me messing around.”

“Are you serious?” You asked in shock. He nodded. “When? With whom?”

“It was a few times, with random girls at bars. But-”

“No!” You back away from him. “You’re not gonna drop that on me then follow it up with but.” 

“Just, let me explain.”

“Explain?! How can you explain cheating, Timothee?!”

“I- I didn’t cheat. It was just kissing.”

“That’s still cheating! When you have to hide it from your wife, it IS CHEATING!” You walked out of the room slamming the door. 

Timothee tried for hours to get you to talk to him and you never did. You sat in silence. When he woke up the next morning you were gone. You didn’t come back till the next morning. 

“Baby!” He ran pulling you into a hug the minute you walked through the door. “I’m sorry! I’m so sorry I hurt you! Please let me fix this! I was wrong and stupid and selfish.”

“Do you know how long I waited to hear you say that?” You said as you pulled away from his embrace. “To hear you admit you were messing up so we can fix it.”

“I- I can’t even imagine what I’ve put you through. We can go to marriage counseling like you wanted.” He offered almost pleading.

You shook your head. “Right now,” Your voice was surprisingly calm. “I- I need time by myself.”

“What?” His face sank as far as his heart dropped.

“Just a few days to- to wrap my head around things.”

“Oh- okay.” He agreed reluctantly. “Where will you be?”

“I’ll be at a hotel. I need to be alone.”

You packed a bag, and you were gone. 

Four days Timothee checked his phone religiously for a call, a text, something from you. But it never came. He sent you long texts apologizing and begging for forgiveness. All of which went unanswered, simply left on read. 

Timothee walked back into the shared apartment one afternoon and saw you sitting on the couch. His heart jumped in his chest. He ran and knelt in front of you. 

“Y/N, I am so sorry. I’ve missed you so much.” He reached for your hands and realized you were holding something. “What’s this?” 

“These,” You held out the yellow envelope. “Are yours.”

Timothee leaned back on his heel, taking the envelope. He opened the top and pulled out what was inside. “No.” His voice cracked as he read the divorce papers. “No, please.”

“Timothee, I can do this anymore.” You took his hands. “And neither can you.”

He shook his head. “No, I won’t agree to it!” He stood. “I get I fucked up but you have to give me a chance to fix it! It was a mistake!”

You stood walking over to him. “It was a mistake you shouldn’t have made in the first place. And the fact that you were able to, says all I need to know.”

Timothee stood there as tears started to fall.

[chubbygirlfics]

Paparazzi | Ben Florian

Warnings. Plus size reader!, reader being insecure, paparazzi making fun of reader

Summary. Paparazzi makes rude comments at y/n and Ben is there to comfort her and removes the paparazzi from the school

Requested by: @lilacprincessofrecovery

The paparazzi were always on your back, finding a way to make you feel not good enough for Ben, Of course he loves you and isn’t ashamed about being with you.

They where asking you questions at first, who you’re parents were?, where you where from?, Then came the more personal and hurtful questions like, do you really think Ben loves you?, have you thought about dieting?

Them questions crushed your self esteem, did Ben actually love you?, The only question that’s runs through your head daily

First you brainstormed all the ideas to be prettier and better for Ben, so you started watching what you ate mostly not eating at all, you never caught on to Ben’s stares when you declined food

“You okay babe?” You heard Ben say when you where staring off during dinner “uh yeah why?” You ask glancing at him “you haven’t been eating lately, I just want to make sure my pretty girl is alright” he says grabbing your hand, you smile “do you really think I’m pretty?”

He seems caught of guard, why would you not think he thinks you’re pretty? And it hit him about the paparazzi

“Baby, please don’t listen to the paparazzi you are so beautiful, My beautiful queen alright?” You kiss his hand “thank you so much Ben”

The rest of the night goes by good you finally eat and Ben makes sure to make it up to you if you know what I mean

You wake up in your shared bed, Ben’s gone off to do his kingly duties so you check for phone for the time to see a notification from a auradon news website, Out if curiosity you click it

Is king ben’s new Queen The Beauty or The Beast?

‘The people of auradon believe King Ben’s new queen looks more like the beast then himself!’

You couldn’t believe what you where reading, did they really think this?, now matter how much you didn’t want to have to face the press today you had to meet Ben in 15 minutes for a photo shoot

You quickly get dressed and put on light makeup and head out the door

When you finally get of the building there are groups of paparazzi snapping pictures some comment make you want to curl up in a ball “ITS THE BEAST” “lose some weight!” “You’re not good enough for Ben!”

Before you even get down the stairs Ben comes up “GUYS! That’s enough! You NEED TO LEAVE! If you can’t expect the fact that I love y/n you’re not welcomed here” you put your hand in his arm “Ben it’s fine I’m okay!” He doesn’t listen

“She is your new Queen and you will treat her with respect no matter what her fucking size is now get the fuck out!” He says mad as hell, they quickly run of and leave

“I’m sorry Ben, it’s no fair you have to fight my problems I’m not good enough for yo-”

“Stop y/n, Stop doubting yourself you’re to good for me, you don’t deserve any of this, but please don’t listen to them they have nothing better to do than ruin other people’s life while their life is miserable, I love you only you and that will never change baby your perfect pretty and sexy and it’s doesn’t matter what they think you have me and I care.”

You hug him and cry for a good minute, you needed to hear that you spent so much time doubting yourself and his love because of what other people think, finally you understood he loved you and just because they believe that he doesn’t, doesn’t mean it’s true.

[lumosinlove]

Between Fifth And You

AO3

chapter two

~

It’s Saturday night for Manhattan’s elite, and we know what that means. The Noble House of Black beckons, and one particularly family seems to be a little behind on preparations—at least, their youngest son is.

Spotted—Logan Tremblay, looking hot in nothing but basketball shorts. Better soak up that fading blue August heat while you can, Lo. Or are you more interested in something a little more…fiery? But in the LES? Why so far from home, Dorothy? Eye color isn’t the only thing green about the Tremblay family. And they have a bad habit of sorting everything out with a little help from Ben Franklin.

“Shoot, shoot!”

Logan pivoted on his heel and was able to toss the ball around his opponent’s shoulder. He only caught a glimpse of red hair as Finn caught it with ease and jumped it up to the rim.

Finn O’Hara. One of these days Logan was going to step on his own shoes watching Finn O’Hara. His pale chest looked like sugar dusting, his exertion-red cheeks the goddamn cherry.

“Point moo-oi!” Finn shouted, slapping Will Morgan and Percy Marshall on their bare backs. “That’s how you say it, right, Tremblay?”

Logan feigned a shudder. “Non.”

“Shorty’s got game,” Will laughed, sweat dripping down his dark brown skin, darkening the leather bracelets he wore.

Percy shook his head, swallowing over a caught-breath, his silver Star of David swinging at his throat. “Shorty must be cheating with his Upper Side shoes.”

Logan just narrowed his eyes and laughed, pushing his hair out of his eyes. “You’re just tall. Doesn’t mean you’re good.”

“Yeah, yeah, Mazel tov, you fucker.”

“I’m finally winning,” Finn grinned. “And now I gotta get back to the shop. I said be back in five…pretty sure it’s been fifty-five.”

Logan swallowed. “I’ll—I’ll walk you.”

Percy slapped him on the back as they left, and Finn held the cage door of the basketball court open for him.

“So, you’re back at school?” Finn asked as he pulled his shirt on. Logan nodded, following suit, picking at the neck where it stuck to his sweaty skin.

“Yeah,” Logan nodded. “I’m supposed to be getting fitted for a suit right now.”

Finn snorted. “What does that have to do with school?”

“Oh,” the corner of Logan’s mouth raised as he realized. “Nothing, I…well, you know. The social scene. It sort of all feels like one thing, up there.”

Finn pouted at him. “Poor baby. Too many parties.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Logan laughed.

“Hey, feel like lunch?”

“I thought you had to be back.”

Finn shrugged. “I’m hungry.”

Logan bit his lip, wondering how many different ways his older sisters could actually kill him. Honestly, he thought he’d just die on the spot of he passed up the change to be squeezed into one of the small restaurants that Finn frequented. Screw the grand tables of his life. Logan wanted cracked leather booths small enough to let their ankles brush. Not that he’d ever say that out loud.

Finn didn’t disappoint. They walked down the shade of Mott street, then turned at a bakeshop on the corner. Finn pointed at it.

“You’ve been here, haven’t you?”

Logan raised a shoulder. “I don’t get down here much.”

Finn snorted. “Listen to you. Down here. You’re down here enough to pop into my bookstore all the time.”

Logan studied the cakes in the windows, biting his lip when he realized Finn’s eyes were still on him in the reflection. “I…yeah.”

Finn flicked the bill of Logan’s hat which shaded the back of his neck. “How’s that latest book you bought?”

Logan turned away from the window to get them walking again, not sure where they were going but trusting Finn to lead. “I’m starting school, man, I don’t have all the time in the world.”

Finn just laughed. “Come on, let’s catch the 6.”

Logan found himself squeezed into a tiny French restaurant in the West Village that served them even tinier croissants.

“I know the chef,” Finn said popping one he had spread jam and butter on into his mouth. “Dumo. Don’t pay a cent. I fucking love these things.”

Logan would have bought Finn a thousand of the tiny pastries without a blink just to see him lick a bit of jam from his thumb again.

“Dumo doesn’t sound very French…” Logan began cutting up his waffle.

Finn laughed. “Pascal Dumais does.”

“Oh. Yeah, that’s more like it.”

Logan glanced at a woman and her baby, who had started crying. He tried to think of something to say. For someone who’s job seemed to be making small talk at various parties and charming people with his accent—or so his mother sometimes said—he sure was horrible at it.

“So, what’s the suit for?” Finn asked, taking a sip of his black coffee.

“A fashion show,” Logan sighed, hiding his surprise—and maybe delight—at Finn’s unknowing shrug. “It’s…sort of a lot. Lots of people and cameras. And I always have to wear something green.”

Finn hummed in understanding. “It’s the eyes, yeah?”

Logan nodded. “A lot of fast English, too.”

Finn tilted his head. “I didn’t know that was hard for you. You’re perfect.”

Logan tried not to flush and covered it with a shrug. “I lived in France until I was fifteen before we finally moved to my dad. It’s still nice to be able to read lips sometimes. With the flashes and they make it super dark…I don’t know.”

“No, that makes sense,” Finn said, brown eyes soft. He smiled. “Hey, well, if you don’t want to go to the fitting, come man the shop with me. I’d love the company.”

Logan looked at him and ached, but saw his older sister Noelle’s pleading, excited expression in his mind. He might not love the scene, but he loved his sisters. “I wish I could. Really.”

They finished up their food and Logan had to admit that he lingered over his coffee until Finn said he absolutely had to leave.

“Hey, Tremblay,” Finn called from down the sidewalk, and Logan turned in the full knowledge that seeing the smile Finn sent him would only make him want to stay more.

The dutiful son wants the bookshop boy…I don’t know, Lo. How will their royal highnesses feel about that?

“Come buy more books you don’t read soon, okay?”

Logan couldn’t help but smile back. “D’accord.”

Finn walked backwards a few steps, yelling, “And bring me something green!” before turning and jogging down the subway stairs.

Logan laughed as he called his driver to him, escaping the heat for air conditioned leather.

XOXO

Pearls or diamonds, Upper Siders? Armani or Ralph? What, like you have other questions tonight?

Well, I have one for you. A tip from a friendly scroller gave me a peak at tonight’s guest list. Do you think we’re in for more than just a showdown on the runway? Cat fights over cat walks is what I always say.

XOXO.

[Image description: Two name cards reading, from left to right, Leo Knut and Remus Lupin, Sirius Black and Sebastian Montague]

Remus found Julian already dressed and tapping at a game on his phone when he descended the winding staircase of their penthouse.

“You waiting for mom and dad?” Remus said, dropping a kiss to the top of his head.

“And you,” Julian said.

“Right, right,” Remus smoothed his black tuxedo, trying to ignore the subtle glint of blue-silver embroidered into the black velvet. His mother was a planner—which Remus liked usually—but this design had not aged well. This suit had a twin that it no longer belonged with. Remus clenched his jaw as he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. He’d hoped wearing it would feel like defiance.

But it only felt like he was lonely. He gave his head a hard shake. He had Leo. He couldn’t let New York throw him.

“Gossip Girl’s going crazy. Of course,” Julian said.

“Jules, you shouldn’t read that stuff,” Remus sighed. “It’s just gossip—”

“Just posted about Sirius,” Julian murmured.

Remus huffed, pushing his hair out of its too neat style in the mirror. “So?”

Julian shrugged, but pointedly looked away when Remus took out his own phone.

The photo looked like one from the paparazzi, but the sight of Sirius on the red carpet made Remus’ throat close up.

I spy a statement piece. Or maybe it’s just a statement. Sirius Black arrives on the red carpet—or should I say black carpet—with none other than New York’s favorite icon, in worship and fashion alike. The Saint of these streets is looking particularly dashing tonight, hand in hand with the heir of this city. Ouch, Re. Looks like you’ve been dethroned.

Remus stared down at the screen, neck hot. Sirius’ suit sleeves had the barely there leather half moon cut-outs that Remus remembered tracing onto his skin.

Sirius had smiled into their kiss. Think anyone will notice?

Remus had just laughed. Everyone will notice.

But there was Saint, a crown of moonstones in his golden hair.

Remus looked down at his own suit. Of course Saint had thought of a way they’d match, that was all it was, but it still felt like a snub.

“I sort of miss him,” Julian said quietly.

Remus’ heart pulled. He swallowed and clicked his phone off. He looked at Julian, who looked almost sheepish.

“Do you?” Julian asked even more quietly.

“Don’t you like Leo?” Remus asked.

“Of course,” Julian nodded quickly. “But…”

“Remus,” Hope smiled, coming down the stairs arm-in-arm with their father. “Jules. Ready, boys?”

Remus didn’t think saying no was an option. He cleared his throat, pushed his hair back.

“Almost,” he said, backtracking towards the stairs. “Just a second. Gotta call Leo, make sure he hasn’t left yet.”

XOXO

“We can watch a livestream of the red carpet and the show,” Natalie said. “Sit.”

Finn groaned, squished beside Natalie on her tiny sofa. “That feels like I’m stalking him.”

“We’re allowed to stalk the boys we like.”

“You’re dating my brother, Nat. Does this mean you stalked him?”

“It really does,” Alex said, coming in from the kitchen with their margaritas and dropping a kiss to Natalie’s temple.

“Hm,” Natalie smiled up at him, accepting a kiss to her lips. “Scruffy.”

Finn sighed and pulled a knee up to his chest, watching the loading video Natalie had pulled up.

“Your wifi sucks,” he mumbled.

“It’ll load,” Natalie scooted over for Alex and passed Finn his drink.

“Salsa, too,” Finn said, waving it over.

Finally, the video popped up to a view of the red carpet.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Alex said.

“Be nice,” Natalie laughed. “It’s fashion!”

“Look,” Alex sighed. “I know they’re wealthy and it’s suppose to be all, I don’t know sandy beaches and wristwatches, but not a single one of these people look remotely happy. Like take a look at this guy—“

Finn looked over the sandy-haired man posing in front of the cameras—well, not posing, really. Kasey Winter, the commentators were saying.

“Nice hair,” Natalie crunched on a chip. “And listen to that, his mother’s one of the biggest producers at Weird Sisters Records.”

“Fine, but he looks like he’s ready to kill someone. I mean, anyone else think its kind of fucked up that the New York families go to a New York university where New York businesses draw from New York’s elite?”

“Yes,” Finn and Natalie said in unison.

And then there was Logan.

Finn let out an embarrassing sound and set his drink down, leaning forward.

Logan walked out in front of the cameras with three girls—his sisters, Finn remembered. Not to mention he followed all of them on Instagram. They had a lot of shoes, sure, but they seemed all right.

“I saw this thing on Gossip Girl about one of the sisters,” Natalie said. “She—”

“Nat, why the hell do you read that?”

Natalie shot him a look. “Like you don’t.”

Finn ignored them, too focused on the dark, nearly black, velvety green cape—or was it cloak?—that covered Logan’s shoulders down to above his elbows, falling to an elegant point at the small of his back over his black suit. The sisters had a similar get-up in one way or another—a green train, a shawl, a corset. Logan’s clasp was a silver fleur-de-lis.

“Green,” Finn breathed.

“What?” Alex asked.

Finn bit the inside of his cheek at Logan’s expression. It was meant to be blank, Finn thought, at-ease and untouchable, but it came off almost enticing. His dark eyelashes swept against his cheeks. Finn watched his throat bob around a swallow, his adored eyes shifting from flash to flash.

“Nothing,” Finn answered his brother.

“How’d you meet this kid anyway, Fish?” his brother asked.

“I was closing up shop about a month ago,” Finn said. “And he stopped at one of our windows. Looked like he’d run the entire island, he was breathing so hard. Not to mention it was pouring like nothing else. Thought he was gonna pass out, so I unlocked the door and let him in to get dry. I don’t know, he was kind of shy at first. Listened to me talk for about an hour before he started giving anything back.” Finn shrugged, watching Logan walk off screen. “I invite him to play basketball with me, Morg, and Percy now. We get lunch after sometimes.”

Natalie sighed. “He looked like one unhappy camper.”

“I think his family puts a lot of pressure on him. He’s the baby. Only son. All that bullshit.”

“I kind of want that cape,” Natalie said.

Alex sighed. “That’s the idea.”

Natalie slapped his chest, then kissed his cheek, and Finn watched Logan walk off-screen.

XOXO

“What say you, Capulet?”

Sirius looked down at Saint at his shoulder. “They’re out of crab puffs.”

“Boo,” Saint said. “You still closing the show?”

“Yep.”

“Shouldn’t you be in hair and makeup?”

“Yep.”

Saint stepped in front of him, the gold band of moonstones nestled in his curls glinting in the dark stage lights. “Looking for someone?”

Sirius just reached out and ran a gentle thumbnail beneath where Saint’s golden eyeliner had smudged against his brown skin, striking it back to a point. “Nope. See you after the show.”

Saint clucked his tongue. “I’m unimpressed.”

“What else is new?” Sirius said.

Saint went to smile, when his eyes flickered behind Sirius and he raised his eyebrows. “That.”

Sirius turned around, and quickly schooled his expression. The cameras were going wild, and in front of all the flashing lights was Remus, hand-in-hand with Leo Knut.

“They make a sunshine pair,” Saint said from beside him. “How’re you feeling?”

Sirius touched two fingers to one of the black-leather moons on his jacket sleeve. They were meant to go with Remus’ stars. He remembered planning for them. He’d thought…part of him had thought if he’d worn them tonight—

“Cloudy sky,” he replied to Saint.

“I was gonna say dappled sunlight in…” Saint glanced around. “A dark forest.”

Remus and Leo were wearing dress shirts, collars rumpled and unbuttoned at their throats, each in a smooth shade of cream. Their hands, decked out in golden rings, were laced together, and they both wore pale gray slacks, slim cut, and laceless nikes.

My mistress’ eyes are nothing like the sun…hmm, but don’t I spy some burning jealous?

“What are we going for here,” Saint raised an eyebrow. “Left in a hurry and didn’t get the dress code?”

“We’re going against me,” Sirius replied, slipping his hands into his pockets and trying to stand straight. “That’s all.”

“Sunlight in a dark forest, indeed.”

Sirius watched them looking out over the flashes, and tried not to look surprised when golden eyes met his own. Remus’ expression didn’t change either. Instead, he simply blinked, then looked away. Leo, tall and lean, leaned into his ear, and Remus smiled. The cameras popped like champagne.

I love right here, Sirius remembered his own voice, the feeling of the soft skin by Remus’ eye beneath his thumb. I love right here when you smile.

“I need to get backstage,” Sirius said shortly, and turned on his heel.

“I’ll be watching.”

“Don’t I know,” Sirius called as he weaved his way through the crowd, heading backstage. The woman with a radio in her ear looked annoyed and nervous when he slipped past her, and radioed that he had arrived to whoever it was that needed to know.

“Sirius!” Alice called, hands full of makeup brushes and up in the air. “Jesus Christ, do you think I have all fucking night?”

Sirius shrugged out of his red carpet jacket—which someone took—and slid into her chair. “Sorry, Al.”

She twirled a protective cape around his shoulders, snapping it at the base of his neck. “It’s a good thing you’re pretty. But then again, I think everyone’s pretty.”

Sirius closed his eyes, letting her begin. “People are.”

Alice had just finished contour when Sirius all but felt his mother’s presence. A shift in the air. A cooler wind. People standing up straighter and shivering.  

“Sirius,” his mother’s face appeared in the mirror. Her red lipstick was the brightest thing about her, and even that was almost mauve. Her dress was tight around her breasts, but cascaded in thick waves of velvet behind her, and she wore tall leather boots. It almost looked like armor. “You’re very late, darling.”

“Sorry,” Sirius said. “Saint and I got caught up in the crowd, I guess.”

She hummed. “You two looked fetching out there. He’s much more pleasing than that other boy ever was. His family is important, too.”

It was true, that his mother had never liked Remus much. Though, Sirius couldn’t compare him and Saint. They were two different oceans.

“Get dressed,” his mother breathed, and was already snapping her fingers at one of the other models before Sirius could say another word.

“All right?” Alice asked him quietly.

Sirius looked at himself in the mirror. Her contour made his face look almost gaunt, as was the general makeup for all of the models, and he knew he’d be given dark eye makeup next, his hair fluffed into perfect curls.

“Fine,” Sirius said, and closed his eyes to let her work.

Sirius was shrugging into his given outfit—a billowing longcoat, 20th century in fashion, and a longer tunic made almost entirely of the thinnest black silk. It would shimmer when he walked, he knew, and his tall, lace-up boots, the flat sole so thin and delicate that he almost felt barefoot, would disappear beneath the shimmer. His mother was cold, stubborn, and cruel sometimes, an unfeeling, yawning sort of dark, but she was talented.

“Lord Vader,” came a voice from behind him, and Sirius laughed even before he turned to face Thomas Walker.

“Sounds about right,” Sirius said, and they clasped hands, pulling them into a one-armed hug. “You look fantastic, though.”

Thomas spun slowly on his heel, letting the long, loose fitting white linen of his button-down—which went out in two, tuxedo-like tails at his back—flare out above his slim, black trousers. He wore a thin scarf of distressed wool.

“Like a fallen gentleman, no?” Thomas grinned. “I might try and steal these pants. And maybe the shirt for Noelle.”

“Oh, yeah,” Sirius smiled, spying Noelle’s green eyes behind his shoulder. “She’ll love that.”

Noelle wrapped her arms, which were draped in a transparent green cloth, around Thomas’ waist. “Thanks for thinking of me, T baby.”

Thomas laughed in surprise. “Who let you back stage?”

“I’m a Tremblay, they’ll let us in anywhere.”

Thomas turned his head to capture Noelle in a soft kiss.

“See you after, hm?” Noelle said. “I’m gonna go say hi to my friend, she’s walking tonight, too.”

“Yeah, we’ll ride to Honeyduke’s together.”

Noelle raised an eyebrow at him. “You coming, Black?”

“Saint all but owns the place,” Sirius said. “Of course I am.”

Sirius walked. He didn’t look down, or hear the cameras. It wasn’t his favorite thing in the world, to be up here, not able to see past the lights—but something tonight was different. It felt as it had the night of his and Remus’ first kiss.

In that show, he had had one, thin line of black lipstick traced over the center of his bottom lip. It had marked Remus’ throat and cheeks like soot by the end of it all.

Remus had been waiting for him back stage.

“Come here,” Remus had whispered, and laced their fingers together.

“Where?” Sirius had answered, surprised by their palms pressing together.

But it hadn’t been a place. Remus had pressed them back in between clothing racks, and crashed their mouths together.

Here, Remus had whispered, and kissed him again.

Sirius felt the absence of the stage lights like a wash of cold air, and he stretched out his back, letting his stony face drop a little. He glanced around, but there was no one to be found. His cheeks were warm just thinking about it.

“Good,” his mother said as he passed her by to take off the makeup, and that was all.

XOXO

Saint looked across Honeyduke’s and felt like it was his. Logan was laughing with Thomas and Noelle, and he had Kasey Winter beside him, securing tickets to one of their favorite bands to see together.

“Done,” Kasey said, and flashed one of his rare smiles.

“I knew you were my favorite,” Saint took a sip of his drink, and Kasey scoffed.

“Me or my mom?”

“Maybe a little of both. Oh, and we’re going to sushi beforehand.”

Kasey’s smile was larger now. “Wouldn’t have it any other way. You gonna leave with that drummer again? What’s her name?”

Saint smiled. “Oh, Sally. And I make it a habit to always leave with the drummer.”

Kasey just shook his head. “Yeah, yeah. I’m getting a drink and leaving you to your one-liners.”

Saint watched him go, feeling settled, and set about scanning the room for Sirius. He was sure he’d know if he was there—people tended to swarm to Sirius, even if he didn’t ask for it. It was part of the reason they were so close. People flocked to Saint, too. So, they asked for each other’s company. A more intimate, calm part of life. Sirius was quiet. Saint wasn’t, but he let Saint , for a moment, be that way, too. Saint was loud. Sirius wasn’t, but Saint had his ways to fire him up.

“Another drink, sir?”

Saint looked over his shoulder, only to turn all the way around, interest peaked. The bartender had sandy hair, and a strong jaw, his cheeks textured by acne scars in some places. He had brown eyes—save for a sliver of green in one.

“Only if you have one with me,” Saint said, and glanced down at his name-tag. “Luke.”

Luke arched an eyebrow, pressing the heels of his palms onto the bar between them, revealing rolled up sleeves and some type of vine tattoo, wrapping all around both of his forearms.

“I’m working, sir.”

“Is that a later?” he nodded at the tattoo. “Nice.”

“I don’t think so,” Luke said.

“Oh, no?”

Luke scowled—how did he look so handsome doing that?

“Do you make it a habit to go home with all the waiters, too?”

Saint didn’t let his expression flicker, just smiled nice and slow.

“Hillrock,” Saint said. “Neat.”

The barkeep turned away.

Ouch. Looks like not everyone worships at your alter, Saint.

XOXO

The elevator doors opened, revealing the party to Sirius one outfit after the next. He had changed for the afterparty—the first of three. He wore a tight, thin black t-shirt and dark jeans. He hadn’t bothered to wash off the dark, smudged eyeliner from the show. His combat boots went up to just below his knee, and had the same nearly naked feeling sole. It made him feel soundless, like a shadow.

Maybe that’s why it was easy to find Remus and stand beside him without him stirring.

“You’re a little underdressed,” Sirius said without looking at him.

“Says the boy wearing a t-shirt,” Remus replied evenly.

Sirius scowled. “I meant at the show.”

“People like to be surprised,” Remus replied evenly.

“Who’s Leo?”

“My boyfriend.”

Sirius turned towards him. “You didn’t tell me you were coming home.”

Remus matched him. They were nearly chest to chest. “You didn’t say a word to me in class.”

“You didn’t—“

“I had the last word,” Remus snapped. “I figured maybe you’d finally have something to say back.”

Sirius stared at him, heart pounding in his ears. For a moment, he let himself look. At the golden eyes, hair more blond than ever from the summer’s sun. Sirius couldn’t stand that mouth set in a frown.

“Guess not,” Remus said softly, lips dropping open in the way they used to before they kissed.

Sirius all but felt him vanish into the writhing crowd.

XOXO

Finn looked up when a flash of color on the morning-silent street outside caught his eye. He set the books he was holding down, took the pen out from between his teeth.

Green.

“What the hell?” Finn laughed as he pulled open the door to his bookshop to find Logan standing there. “It’s five in the fucking morning, what are you doing here? Couldn’t sleep?”

“Never did,” Logan said, and that’s when Finn saw that Logan was still in his suit from the livestream.

“Ah, I see,” Finn said, eyes flicking up and down his broad form. He swallowed dryly. “The nature of afterparties, I suppose. Well, you—you look good. For someone who’s been up all night, I mean.”

Logan just smiled, one of his small, secretive ones. Finn watched as he stepped forward so they were almost toe to toe in the doorway.

“Wh…” Finn’s voice dropped off with a breathless laugh. He couldn’t help but look at Logan’s mouth. His full lips that could speak a language Finn couldn’t even begin to describe.

Logan just reached up to the base of his own throat and unclipped the fleur-de-lis clasp there. In one smooth swoop, he drew his short cloak from his shoulders and around Finn’s, right over his worn gray t-shirt, clicking it in place. The fabric brought a gentle scent, and he figured it must be Logan’s cologne.

“Something green,” Logan said softly. A warm, early morning breeze ruffled his hair, pushing the curls forward. Finn couldn’t move. “What are you doing here?”

“Inventory,” Finn whispered, then cleared his throat. “Inventory.”

“Okay,” Logan said. “I’ll help.”

[sunfleurry]

II. Soie et Satin

Part 1

Thank you for the lovely feedback on part 1 of modern prince!Harry <33

NOTE: I decided to give my MC a name (which I also edited into part 1). I hope you enjoy Rose and Harry’s story!!!! this part is not edited oops

***

Harry was on TV and he looked like a star. Rose watched him from the comfort of her living room while she sipped her morning coffee.

It was a live broadcast showing his arrival to the event with his family including the queen, his mother. She was an intimidatingly beautiful woman who gained the respect of the entire country, if not the entire world throughout her life. She was known to be strict on tradition, but she’d done so much for the country when it came to helping the less fortunate, advocating for global health, and supporting free education for everyone.

Now that she was older and had quite a few children, she passed on some of her duties to them. They, including Harry, followed in her footsteps, looking out for the population by supporting the same causes their mother dedicated her life to as a young woman. Their role was to represent the queen, and they did so flawlessly.

Rose didn’t want to admit that she’d googled Harry the day he sent flowers to her office, but she did, and she was reminded of the fact that Harry was heir to the throne. She never cared much for learning about the royal family and this was something everyone knew, but reading it after meeting him was like a big wake-up call. She’d danced with a man who would one day become king. She tried not to let herself think about it too much, or else she knew her thoughts would spiral out of control.

Harry and his brother wore a simple black suit, a change from his usual style, and his mother and sisters were donned in modest dresses she knew were designer and likely cost the same as her home.

Men with flashing cameras were going crazy behind the gates, desperately trying to get the perfect shot of the country’s “perfect” family.

Upon seeing the paparazzi, Rose was instantly reminded of how lucky she and Harry were to not have been caught by anyone when they went out. She quickly picked up her phone and googled Harry’s name and filtered the results to hours before the charity event just to be sure. She sighed in relief when there were no photos or stories of the both of them.

She relaxed into her sofa and fixed her eyes on the television, watching the rest of the event, subconsciously smiling every time Harry’s handsome face popped up on the screen.

***

Three days later at work, Rose received a text from Harry. What are you doing tonight?

She quickly replied, I have a date with a really hot guy I met a while back.

She barely put her phone down before it pinged with another message. What? Who is he? Tell him you’re busy.

She grinned. I don’t know. He’s kind of cute. Did I mention he’s a prince?

Her phone vibrated with a call, Harry’s name in block letters at the top of the screen. She accepted the call and brought it up to her ear. “Hello?”

“You’re not funny.”

She barked out a laugh, then winced and apologized to her coworkers whose desks were adjacent to hers. “I think I am.”

She heard him huff through the line then say, “Can I pick you up at seven?”

“Where do you want to take me?” She asked, tamping down her giddiness. It had only been less than a week since she’d last seen him, but she missed him.

“I thought we could take a walk on the beach, maybe have some ice cream?”

“How romantic of you,” she teased.

She could almost see his eyes rolling. “Are you in? I haven’t been able to go out in public since that morning charity.”

“Why not?”

He sighed. “Normally after making such a public appearance, we’re encouraged to stay low-key for a couple days. Something about the media being on high alert.”

Suddenly remembering the thoughts she had the morning she watched him on TV, she instantly knew what he meant. Rose worried her lip between her teeth as she tried to form the words to articulate the worry that had been building up since that day.

“Harry, will there be people following us?” She closed her eyes, hoping she didn’t sound stupid.

The other end of the line was quiet for a moment before he finally spoke up. “You know what, change of plans. Wear something comfortable.”

“Oh,” she ran a hand through her hair and sat back in her chair. “Okay.”

“I can’t wait to see you, Rose.”

She smiled. “You too,” she whispered.

***

Harry said to wear something comfortable, so she slipped on the most comfortable outfit she owned: A pair of joggers and matching crewneck. He’d only ever seen her dressed up, she figured she would let herself look more casual for once. Her doorbell rang just as she was slipping on a pair of Nikes. Reaching over, she opened the door to reveal a nervous-looking Harry standing with his car key in hand.

“Hi,” he said, a smile breaking onto his face at the sight of her then pulling her in for a hug.

She wrapped her arms around his waist, breathing in the cologne she absolutely loved.

“You look lovely,” he said as he pulled back to take a look at her.

She couldn’t resist kissing his cheek. “Please, I’m wearing glorified pyjamas.”

He looked down at his own pair of joggers and t-shirt. “I’d say you understood the assignment.”

She laughed as she followed him to his flashy car. It wasn’t the same one he picked her up in on their previous date, but just as nice.

Less than a half hour later, Harry had driven them to the middle of the city and into an underground parking garage of a large high-rise building. One of the tallest she’d ever seen in person. It had a modern design, the surface covered in mirrored windows. He drove through the garage until the car reached a closed door. He inched the car closer until the sensor detected it and opened the door, allowing the car to enter a smaller parking area containing two other cars, one of them Rose recognized as the one she’d been in on their last date.

“Do you live here?” She asked, taken aback.

“Yes,” he smiled nervously. “This is my private parking.”

“I can see that,” she frowned. “I thought you lived with your family, at the palace.”

“You and everyone else in the world,” he chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck.

“You don’t?”

He unbuckled his seat belt, and pocketed his key before turning towards her. “I come from a not so traditional family, but I need my own space despite the responsibilities that are expected of me. I’m a man in my twenties who values his privacy so I moved out when I was nineteen. Under a fake name.” 

She was shocked by the revelation, even more by the fact that he was trusting her with his information. 

“Nobody knows you live here?”

“I mean, the other residents do, but they’re under contract.”

“And your family?”

“Of course they know where I live,” he chuckled. “They just don’t come here. They don’t want to risk being seen here because they respect my space, they want to make sure I have all the privacy I can get away from the public eye, because, well, one day I won’t have that luxury.”

Rose deflated at the reminder of what his future entailed. “Do you ever think about it? Being heir and all?”

Harry looked down at his lap, picking an invisible thread on his pants. “Let’s go inside,” he said at last. 

Taking the hint, Rose smiled and opened her door, Harry doing the same. He scanned a card inside the elevator and keyed in a code on the keypad. The lift immediately started rising, only halting when it reached the final floor of the building. 

Nothing could have prepared Rose for the extravagance that would welcome her as soon as the doors opened. An entire wall was made up of giant windows, overlooking the bustling city underneath. They were so high up, she couldn't hear any of it. Instead, the height provided a peaceful silence in an otherwise busy area. The flooring was marble, the luxury kind one would only see on TV, and the place was spotless. 

Harry’s warm hand on the small of her back urged her to walk inside, the elevator doors closing behind them. She took in the open concept penthouse, a staircase in the corner of the grand living room leading to what she assumed was his private corner, the bedroom and bath.

“Holy shit,” she breathed. 

Harry laughed behind her, before grabbing her hand and leading her to the kitchen she knew even Gordon Ramsay would drool over. “Would you like something to drink?”

Snapping herself out of her dumfounded state, she looked at him. “What?”

He suppressed a smile and repeated, “Would you like something to drink?”

“Oh! Um, yes please,” she said, wringing her fingers together.

“Relax, Rose.”

“How could I?” She asked, eyes wide. “I feel like I’ll break something just by looking at it!”

“That’s fine, love. I want you to be comfortable.”

“But this place—”

“Is my home,” he interrupted, stepping closer and gently grabbing her shoulders. “And I made the choice to trust you with my secret, so please, make yourself comfortable.”

Her eyes softened. “You’re right, I’m sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry about.”He leaned forward to capture her lips with his, and she melted into him without hesitation. She’d been wanting to do this since their first kiss and the wait was definitely worth it. 

He pulled back with a grin, leaving her breathless. “So, drink?”

She nodded, exhaling as an attempt to calm her beating heart. 

“I also made us dinner, I just need to put it in the oven.”

The statement made her heart swell, a feeling of fondness for the man in front of her taking over. “You didn’t have to.”

“I wanted to,” he smiled, as he pushed a few buttons on the oven until a yellow light started flashing and the desired temperature was displayed. “Can’t bring you here and not feed you.”

She chuckled and pulled out a stool tucked into the island to sit on. “No you can’t.”

***

The food would take an hour, so the two decided to go to his living room to wait. They were cuddled up on his couch, watching a movie she’d chosen and that he’d seen a dozen times. Rose didn’t know that though.

“Do you ever worry people will recognize you?” She asked, out of the blue. “When we went out together, you seemed unfazed by the looks some were giving you.”

He shrugged. “I get used to it, really. Besides, Fen is always around in case something happens.”

She pushed off the couch to look at him. “Fen?”

“My security detail,” he nodded. “He’s always around when I’m out and about.”

“But, I didn’t see him the other night. Or the first time we went out together.”

He grinned. “That means he’s doing his job.”

She frowned as she slowly tucked herself back into his side. His arm automatically wrapped around her. “So, we were being followed all night?”

“It’s for safety purposes, Rose. Plus, I would never intentionally put you in danger.”

“What could possibly be so dangerous?”

Harry ducked to press a kiss to her head, breathing in the shampoo scent that coated her red strands. “Anything could be dangerous, even the paparazzi.”

The thought of being followed by paparazzi sent shivers down her spine. She’d seen videos of celebrities being hounded by them and felt sorry for the public figures who had to live with that.

“What if they see us together. Would they publish photos? Are you scared of what they may think?”

“Are you ashamed of me, Rose?”

She craned her neck to kiss him softly. “I would never be ashamed of you, Your Highness.”

“I knew it!” He cried, dramatically pushing her away. “You’re just using me for my title!”

“How did you know?” She gasped, trying to hold in a smile.

“I’ve always felt something was off with you,” he tutted, leaning his back on the arm rest and pulling her on top of him.

She giggled, raising her hand to run her fingers through his hair before smoothing it down. “Why is that?” She whispered.

“There’s no way someone as beautiful as you would give me the time of day,” he murmured, brushing his lips on the corner of her mouth.

She pulled him in to give her a proper kiss, their legs tangling as he switched positions until he was hovering on top of her, forearms caging her head against the sofa. 

“If anything, you’re out of my league, Prince.”

The words didn’t sit right with him. He pulled back. “Don’t ever say that,” he frowned.

“It’s true—“

He kissed her again. “Who I am... What I come from... Means nothing between you and me.”

She stared at him intently, the conversation taking an unexpected turn.

“Do you hear me?” He murmured, brushing his lips along her cheek.

She nodded.

He sighed. “Good.”

Rose gasped when Harry’s mouth was suddenly on hers, instantly brushing her tongue against his in what could be the best kiss she’d ever had. She wrapped her arms around his waist, pulling him down to feel his comforting weight on top of her. The kiss morphed into something wetter as his hands trailed along her side and dipped under her shirt. She shivered from the contact, bending her knees to cage his body between her legs. Harry brushed his lips against her jaw before slowly making his way down her throat to the fabric of her top covering her chest. His hands inched along her skin to her back where he applied pressure, making her arch, chest pressing against his own.

“Harry,” she breathed as he pressed open mouthed kisses up her throat, leaving a wet trail.

He hummed in response before coming back up to connect their lips. She sighed into his mouth, arms wrapping around his neck as his hands trailed back to caress her sides. “Can I take this off?” He breathed, fingering the hem of her shirt.

She nodded against his neck, where she tongued at his skin, savouring the feeling of just being so close to him. He pulled her shirt up but before he could take it off completely, his phone rang, the shrill ringtone breaking through their bubble.

Harry scrambled to get off the couch, recognizing the ringtone, while Rose fought to catch her breath, mourning the feeling of his weight on her.

Harry excused himself and left the room to speak to whoever it was while Rose readjusted her top and sat up. She decided to braid her hair while waiting for him to finish.

Just as she was tying up her hair, she heard his footsteps before he appeared with a grim look on his face. He tossed his phone on the coffee table.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing is wrong,” he smiled but she didn’t buy it.

She tucked her legs under her and extended a hand towards him.

Harry accepted it and she tugged him over to sit next to her. He complied and slumped back, neck resting on the back of the couch.

“It’s just PR stuff. You don’t need to worry about it,” he said, eyes never leaving the ceiling.

She felt her heart sink to her stomach. “What kind of PR stuff?”

Before he could answer, she jumped at a sudden beeping coming from the kitchen.

He chuckled half-heartedly as she held a hand up to her chest. “It’s just the oven, love. Come on, food’s ready.”

“But what about—“

He kissed her. “I’m hungry.”

She pouted but decided to drop it, not wanting the mood to be ruined.

***

Rose placed her fork on her empty plate and got up to make her way to the sink. “How did you learn to cook like that?” She turned on the water and waited for it to turn hot before rinsing her plate. She reached for the sponge and squirted soap on it, intending to wash all the dishes.

Harry walked up behind her and slid a hand around her waist, splaying his hand on her stomach and pulling her back against him. “My mother,” he said before reaching over and turning off the water.

“Hey!” She went to turn it back on but he wrapped a hand around the tap, preventing her from moving it. “Harry…” She warned.

“Rose…”

She turned around and crossed her arms, ignoring the way her body reacted to his proximity. 

He laughed, and pried the wet sponge out of her hand, then pushed her out of the way to rinse it and put it back in place. 

Rose scowled. “Let me do this for you.”

“No, I have a dishwasher that could do that for me. I want to spend time with you, not watch you wash my shit.”

“You do so much for me, Harry. Let me wash your shit.”

“I can wash my own shit.”

“Okay, this is getting gross.”

Harry giggled and kissed her cheek before walking over to his fridge. She took the time to wash her hands and dry them before turning around to ask if he needed help with whatever it was he was doing.

She was met with the sight of him standing next to the kitchen island, a delicious-looking chocolate cake on it with two small forks. 

Harry chuckled at the way her eyes lit up, knowing her love for chocolate was the way to her heart. 

“I was too shy to ask if you had something sweet to follow up with dinner,” she admitted sheepishly, biting her bottom lip as she sat on the stool while he did the same across from her.

His smile widened, handing her a fork. “I would never forget.”

She blushed and followed his lead by taking the first bite of the cake. “Oh my God,” she moaned. “Is this André’s?”

Harry looked at her, horrified. “Don’t ever say another man’s name after moaning like that.”

She snorted, taking another bite of the delicious cake. 

“Yes,” Harry said finally, expression morphing into one of amusement as he watched her devour her half of the dessert. “He did make it. Something about giving the lovely lady a real treat.”

Rose laughed at the way he mocked André’s accent, and pushed the plate towards him to finish the cake. “I can’t take another bite,” she groaned. 

***

Rose awoke to the sound of faint chattering. She didn’t remember when she fell asleep but once she was aware enough to take in her surroundings, she realized she was still in Harry’s penthouse, curled up on his couch under a warm blanket. A warm feeling engulfed her when she realized Harry had tucked her in.

“Fuck you, I can do whatever I want.”

She frowned, knuckling her eye to try and wake herself up as she heard Harry start pacing, wherever he was.

“I know, I know, she’s been telling me the same thing all week.”

“Harry?” She called out. He didn’t hear her.

“If I hear you call her that one more time, you’re fired.”

“Harry,” she called again, louder. His pacing stopped and a second later, he appeared from around the corner, phone up to his ear.

“Rose,” he sighed, then scowled at whatever the person on the other end said. “Yes, now don’t call me back.” He locked his phone and gave her his attention once again. “Sorry about that.”

She smiled sleepily and reached over to caress his face. He breathed out and knelt on the ground to come face to face with her. Her fingers wound in the short hairs at the nape of his neck and he exhaled, dropping his forehead to her collarbone. “Sometimes I hate being me.”

“Want to talk about it?”

He shook his head and a laugh bubbled out of her, unwillingly. He snapped his head up. “What’s so funny?”

“Tickled me,” she mumbled.

He snorted then got up, asking her to move over before laying down next to her and pulling her to his side. 

“You seemed angry,” she said gently.

She could feel him tense under her. “My mother was just pissed at me, had my publicist relay a message.”

“Did you do anything?”

Harry looked into her warm brown eyes, his own glinting with mischief. “When am I not?”

Rose giggled and laid her head on his shoulder. She could feel herself being pulled back into unconsciousness, and as much as she tried to fight it, she couldn't. She wanted to stay awake for him, to comfort him further but exhaustion suddenly washed over her. Before being completely lost to the world, she could’ve sworn she heard him murmur, “I won’t let anything come between us.”

***

THANK YOU FOR READING <3333 lmk if you’d like to be tagged !!! 

Tag list: @mellamolayla​

[gojology]

Job Benefits. (Part One)

new beginnings ‧₊˚✩彡. - chapter one.

you can find part two here : part two : undesirable

pairing : ceo! gojo x female reader

warnings : cursing

wordcount : 1960

a/n : something that i’ve been working on for a while now. this is self indulgent as all hell and i’m starting a new series n idk when it’ll end necessarily but ceo gojo is all i need in my life. also i have like 300 million requests to go through but i PROMISE i’ll get them done! i just need to finish my valentines event thingy and i’ll be open! 

it has come to my attention that gojo is his surname and i’m too lazy to fix anything other then the first name basis part im so sorry LOl

         It’s no secret that you like working the office.      Even as a child you enjoyed the formal atmosphere when you walked into your parent’s workplace, and even better, you enjoyed organizing stuff. Growing up, your favorite pass time was cleaning and organizing which caused you to excel in school, coupled with your natural smarts. Your peers would constantly tease you, telling you that you were a boring kid- but hey, you’d be making lots of money, and what better job would there be for you, aside from being someone’s secretary?      Those were the first words that came across your mind as soon as you stepped into the prestigious building, heels rhythmically hitting the stainless floor, suitcase in hand. It was also the first lie that you’d tell yourself in there.      You had known about this company even as a child. One that sold just about everything, the most notable being luxurious clothing, but something the company was also well known for? How attractive the family was.      Sure it was a bit weird, but in defense of the general public their appearances were rare, only once in a while you’d see the family on TV. Waving in their limousine, blowing kisses and doing things rich people do, or maybe ignoring the cheering crowd of journalists and news reporters, hell like you knew.     Catching glimpses of the wildly white haired family was something every paparazzi threw themselves at, and picking up a magazine or going to search something on the internet would be sure to be chock full of pictures of the esteemed family. The highlight of the family being the son, just because of how handsome he was, and also happened to be the most publicly known and fawned over family member-     Gojo fucking Satoru.      Luckily for you, he was your boss, so you could probably reveal the tiniest of secrets and make major bank. Unluckily for you, he was childish as all hell, not to mention you found childish people incredibly annoying. The worst thing? You were his secretary.      That could only spell out doom for a man like him, and a woman like you, who only wanted to get business done and nothing else. You two truly did not mix.     Two months prior, you had gotten the job and was finally excited to have stable income after graduating. Your hirers didn’t tell you anything about having to babysit a manchild though.     And so, that’s how you found yourself sitting in the comfortable plush leather office chair, fumbling under the piles of paperwork and fan letters, cursing your boss’s name under your breath for being so unconcerned with work. Scheduling appointments, interviews, sending e-mails of unacceptance to eager authors asking to write an auto-biography, that was your life.      You’d be content with it if your boss was normal.      As soon as the thought crosses your mind, it’s like he heard you think.     “(Y/N)-chan~!” you hear a familiar sing-songy voice down the rather short hallway. Your office resided right next to his, and it would only take him 30 seconds or so to walk down to your door, presumably to annoy the hell out of you. You grunt, blowing a stray hair out of your face.     This also meant that you could hear him sing from his office, even through the thick walls.      Choosing to ignore it, you instead furiously typed to another business executive’s secretary who had just emailed you about a meeting between Gojo and- well you weren’t quite sure who.      “(Y/N)-chan~ I know you hear me, don’t you know it’s disrespectful to not listen to your seniors?” his playful, deep voice was growing closer, and you straighten your back, sighing. You didn’t sign up to be a daycare worker, yet this was what you found yourself doing most of the time.      “I’m sorry, Satoru-sama, please instill me with your great knowledge, oh wise one.” rolling your eyes and rubbing your temples, you glance up from your laptop, bracing yourself for whatever would happen next. Gojo leaned on the frame of your door, head ducking slightly. He was way too tall to walk under it without any issue.      He was unnecessarily calm though, normally he’d be jumping around your office, making a mess of things, but his body language told otherwise. He was slacking off from his duties, obviously, so you weren’t too sure why he’d be acting so... Chill.     With his arms crossed, he gave you a mischievous side eye.     Growing impatient, you stand up, your knuckles grinding against the tabletop. Your brow knitted together as he peered down on you, almost tauntingly, and you hated it.  “Listen, boss. I have a lot to do today, for you, might I add as I am your secretary- and if you’re going to sit around I don’t think I’ll get to these emails and phone calls and everything fast enough. May I kindly assist you with anything? If not I’ll have to ask you to go back to... Whatever you were doing.”      Gojo looked at you, wide-eyed and unblinking, like he didn’t expect such a sassy remark. “Oh my, sweetie. Someone has a naughty mouth... To your boss of all people? How mean! I don’t think I remember putting, ‘allowed to be rude to the Satoru clan’ down on the job benefits.. What’s with the formal tone as well? So unnecessary, just be yourself when you’re talking to me.”     He sauntered closer to your desk, and your breath hitched, this was one of the first times you’d seen him up close like this, and you swore that you could hear your heart beating rapidly inside of your chest. You don’t know what that could mean; but what you did know was that you wanted to slap him or punch a hole into the glass window right behind you and throw him off the 15 floor building. Leaning in close to your ear, he whispered:      “Or, if you wanna stick with the business voice- call me sir. Got that?”     You nod before looking down at your desk, feeling your body heat up for seemingly no particular reason. Did this guy have any knowledge of a private bubble? Whatever, this was your superior. If it was any boss you’d probably be fired by now. You were lucky to be forgiven.     “Yes, sir. May I comment on something... Er, sir?”     “I’m all ears.” standing back up from leaning over your incredibly messy desk, you looked up at him, he looked down at you in response, with beady little “innocent” eyes through his circular shades.      “I didn’t mean to be sassy, I only wish for this relationship to be professional and nothing else.... I, um, truly do apologize and I ask for your forgiveness.” you studied the wall as you say this, fidgeting with your hands and the hem of your pencil skirt. It was a bit awkward to talk to him as if he wasn’t a kid, but it did feel certainly refreshing.      “Is that so?” you turn your head to look back at him as a sign of respect, an eyebrow of his is raised, and a smug smirk is playing at his lips. He talked with such an aura of arrogance around him, you instantly regret being respectful. Yet, you restrain yourself from slapping that stupid smirk off his stupidly handsome face.      Why did all the handsome ones have to be so annoying?      Fuck, no, that wasn’t meant to be a compliment. Even though it was only in your mind, you felt so embarrassed, and had no idea why. It wasn’t like he could read your thoughts, and it was just a mindless compliment, nothing flirtatious about it.       Finally, he spoke. “Aw. (Y/N), I knew we picked well when we hired you. So respectful and professional! What more can I ask for out of a secretary? I humbly accept your apology- but first please do something for me.” he whistled in the other direction as he picked up one of your cute stationary pens, hastily sliding it into his blazer’s pockets.     “Yes, sir?” you brace yourself for impact yet again. Not noticing that he stole one of your favorite pens.     “Slack off a little. None of my secretaries ever worked this hard. I’ll slide in an extra hour for lunch, you can go watch a movie or something-”      “No. Satoru. Contrary to your other secretaries, I actually enjoy work.” standing up now, you stomp over to Gojo, who was now giggling like a 7 year old girl. You hadn’t realized that you had called him by his first name, but honorifics wasn’t on your mind right now.     Your chest stuck out as you shoved him out of your office with your bare hands, maybe as a way of looking more threatening, as if that’d ever work against him.     “Get out of my office!” You hope your eyes are staring daggers, if he ever looked back at you.     Gojo looked at you like he was shocked, tipping his shades down just slightly as you were pushing him out into the hallway. As if he didn’t believe what he was seeing, so he had to see it with his actual eyes- but eventually laughed before accepting his eventual fate.      “On a first name basis now, aren’t we? You’re straightforward! I like straightforward girls though, it works out in your favor.”     “Shut it.”      He made sure to stiffen once in a while just to piss you off so that you couldn’t push him as easily, and before long he was back to his office.       “Cya (Y/N)!” giving you a wave and a wink, he grinned. “I’ll be sure to visit you again, your office is fun!”       That was just one of the unusual interactions that Gojo Satoru had with you, but you knew now that it certainly wouldn’t be the last.  ‧₊˚✩彡.      It didn’t take you long before you realized your favorite pen was gone.       Almost immediately, you figured out who the thief was.       It was evident by now that your relationship between you and your boss wasn’t normal, to say the least. You just couldn’t quite wrap your head around why he stole a cute carrot pen, it certainly wasn’t his style. Well, you weren’t quite sure honestly, but the way the magazine front covers posed him was... Sexual.       Maybe the hot guy liked cute carrot pens and was too scared to buy them by himself, but, it was 2021. Toxic masculinity was basically extinct.      This wasn’t on his mind when he stole your pen, though. Gojo Satoru was smart when he wanted to be. To be quite honest, he just wanted to annoy you more. It made him curious, how could one enjoy work? And be cute at the same time?     The logic made no sense to him. Attending meetings, doing interviews- this was all very boring work to Satoru, and he couldn’t wrap his head around that you enjoyed that. He hadn’t asked to inherit the company, but yet here he was now. Shit, maybe he’d ask you if you wanted the company.      He yawned before drinking his coffee, just how he liked it before taking a sip he straightened his tie, just to make sure he looked extra clean and fresh when you busted down the door, ruffling his fluffy white hair as he did so.     Gojo hated the work environment, just to be straightforward. One thing he did enjoy was the complementary luxury coffee machine, alongside several sugar packets. Placing his impossibly long stick-like legs onto the table, he sighed happily.      Cute girl being his secretary, drinking yummy coffee, the sun rays warming up the back of his head, he was truly living the life.     And then he heard it.      Loud steps against the tile floor.      And then, his door flung open.         

[writing-in-april]

My Date with the President’s Daughter

Spencer Reid x Female Reader (Spencer POV)

Summary: Spencer has a date with the President’s daughter, who he’s been dating for a while in partial secret. He hasn’t seen her in person for a while so he’s had to settle for another form of communication.

A/N: Ok just to get this out of the way— this is not a politically charged fic, I don’t express my own political beliefs in this fic nor do I express my opinion on the beliefs of others. The president in this fic is entirely made up and I just thought it would be cool to release it on Inauguration Day like the nerd I am. I do not want a political debate in the comments, this blog is not meant for that. This fic is for fun and to make people a little happier in these trying times. Please respect my wishes. This was a really fun way to write a twist on Spencer dating someone famous and- I wonder if anyone can spot the West Wing reference I used 🤔Thanks to @spencers-dria again for always helping me out with my fics 🥰This is also apart of my unlinked fic series called Spencer Reid & Letters! Requests are open and thank you for reading!

Warning: Vague political talk, References to keeping their relationship secret earlier, Avoiding the paparazzi- that should be it.

Main Masterlist Spencer Reid & Letters Word count: 1.6k

She didn’t have to put her short little letter to me on the back of a postcard, but she always did it this way. I remember when she first told me why she did it. We were sitting cuddled up on my couch at the early start of our relationship. I had asked her why she always insisted she send her letters on the back of a tiny card, she would’ve had so much more room if she got out a piece of paper.

She said she got into the habit of sending them to her father whenever he was away on business. Her handwriting had been horrible as a child according to her and her father had suggested she try to fit all of her thoughts onto a postcard. So, now she sent all of her letters neatly handwritten with the smallest of letters, so small you could almost barely read them, on the back of a postcard.

The postcard I had gotten late today, delivered by one of the last people on duty this late at night, was a picturesque view of the White House. The grass bright green and the outside covered in pure crisp white, a statuesque image of American democracy. Now, she didn’t send this to me because she wanted to express her political views and patriotism in a postcard, it just so happened to be where her father lived.

The fact that she was the President’s daughter used to intimidate me a lot when I first met her. I hadn’t immediately connected the dots in my head that she was the first daughter when we first met, though I could tell I had seen her somewhere before. Though, my first assumption was that maybe she had been a regular at my favorite coffee shop, not the daughter to the President of the United States. Literally my biggest boss.

First time I met him was also my first time in the east wing; she had some help from her secret service detail to sneak me in through the back. I only ever nervously stutter when I’m in intimidating or stressful situations and I’m pretty sure I barely got a sentence out the first ten minutes after I had met him. Luckily, he did seem to like me, though I’m not really sure why. Y/N told me once it was because he found my intelligence extraordinary and my constant willingness to share facts endearing. I always blush when I remember that, she was always so sweet to me and the fact that her family loved me as well caused my heart to swell exponentially. I stared at the captured view for a few seconds longer before the dots had fully connected in my head, I may have an eidetic memory, but sometimes it took me a minute to get her subtle hints. She didn’t actually live at the White House, she had her own house in D.C. But, this postcard meant one thing. She’s home.

Each postcard she sent me had a picture of wherever she was while she was traveling the world, it was a small gesture that made me feel closer to her, I always tried to imagine I was there with her at every location she sent. She had been out of the country for at least a month on business and even before that we hadn’t seen each other for a while, I had been stuck on a long case that kept me away from her for half a month.

A month and a half, that’s how long it's been since I’ve had her in my arms. I turned over the card expecting to see it filled with more words than most people would think could fit on the back of a postcard to let me know when I could see her, but this was not the case. Instead, the back of the card contained less words than normal. Only the words- meet me at 10pm at our usual spot.

My body moved faster than my brain, getting up to pack up all my things to rush to our usual spot. My watch sat over my cardigan sleeve on my wrist and it blinked up at me letting me know I only had 30 minutes till I had to get to the other side of town.I still had some paperwork left, but enough that I could push it off till the next day. Once I had gotten all my stuff together I scurried over to leave through the glass doors.

“Are you heading home, Spence?” A voice from inside the bullpen called out startling me out of my thoughts, I had thought everyone had left for the night. I turned around to look at the owner of the voice, JJ, who had come back from the break room to finish her large stack of paperwork that still remained.

“Actually no- I have a date.” A small shy smile made its way onto my face, I still felt very shy when I talked about my relationship with the team. When I had first told them after around 8 months into our relationship, they had thought I was pulling their legs. Once they did realize that I was in fact, not bullshitting them as Morgan had suspected, the questions had immediately come down on me. The ogling at my relationship never really ceased in the months after it had come out to the team, and the rest of the world. We mostly still tried to keep it under wraps, but the fact that the press now knew about me after some photos got leaked from a date only made the team ogle even more.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to who you go on dates with, it’s like something out of a movie.” JJ joked, then yawning again and leaning her face into her palms. “Well- I still have a lot of paperwork to do, you go enjoy your night, Spencer. I know you haven’t seen her in a while.”

My mind had already begun to shift away from JJ as soon as she brought her up, I was practically vibrating in anticipation, I couldn’t wait to see her.

—-

The rare book store on the east side of Quantico had been my favorite for years, ever since I had moved out here from Vegas actually. So much so that the owners, an older couple named Margaret and Dan, both knew me by name and knew almost exactly what books I wanted every time. The both of them had immediately jumped at the chance when I had hesitantly asked them to let the both of us meet up here, I had been desperately trying to find a place outside of my apartment where we could meet up.

When I entered the shop through the back it was already deserted just for us, she must have contacted Maggie and Dan to ask them if we could have the store for the night. The store was packed full of the rare books the owners had both acquired over the years, ranging from old tales and poems written by Edgar Allan Poe, the dark brother’s Grimm tales, to almost any old book that you could think of. It was almost to the point where I thought maybe Maggie and Dan should upgrade to a bigger shop.

“Long time no see.” A voice piped up from the mostly dark corner where she sat in a dark green armchair only partially illuminated by a standing lamp. Broad grins broke out on both of our faces before we both ran to each other, engulfing ourselves into an overwhelming bear hug.

“I missed you so much you don't even know.” Tears prickled at the edge of my eyes, though I wasn’t afraid to admit that us being apart for so long made me tear up.

“I've got a pretty good idea, I missed you so much as well.” She sniffed and then sighed into the crook of my neck. I moved my hand up to cradle her head to try and bring her as close as possible to me, even though there was already not even an inch of space between the two of us.

A nagging thought was dancing around in my brain, the card was so short and abrupt. It wasn’t like her to not be long winded whenever she wrote to me, she even had a tendency to be worse than I was sometimes.

“Why was the card so short? You feeling ok?”

“I just couldn’t wait to see you… It’s been so long since I’ve seen you...” Her tone of voice made me sad, it had been so lonely for me as well when we were apart.  “I never want to be away from you for that long ever again.”

“Move in with me.” The words blurted out of my mouth before I could really think about my words. I didn’t care whether it would be feasible or not, I just knew I never wanted us to be apart for so long ever again.

“Well-“ I cringed a little at her words sensing a rejection, I worried that I had just screwed it all up by asking. However, again she surprised me, “We might need to get a new place to settle my father’s worries about security.”

I breathed out a breathy laugh of relief at her words, enveloping her into a bruising kiss, my worry and anxiety immediately melting away. I couldn’t wait for the next chapter of my life with the President’s daughter.

—-

Tag list (Message me if you want to be added):

All works: @shotarosleftpinky

Spencer Reid/CM:

@calm-and-doctor @destiny-tsukino @safertokiss

Spencer Reid & Letters Series:

@sierraraeck @90spumkin @whoreforthebau

[aitarose]

YELLOW DAISIES (A. MIYA) pairing: miya atsumu x fem!reader

synopsis: atsumu miya, japan’s most entitled player, the person that strangers resented for unprecedented boasting and confidence—a facade as there was only one person who knew the real him.

word count: 1.6k

genre: established relationship, fluff, time skip

warnings: slight angst, asshole!atsumu?, hospital, mentions of death

notes: i’m only on episode two of season four so i’ve literally never heard this man speak a word, but i wrote this for some reason asjdfkl

↳ DIRECTORY

He was revolutionary—that was what flashed in bright lights in the media, magazines, and news when the name Miya Atsumu came into the picture. It was an honorable title, one that he’d earned from his years of experience, years of effort to become the best player he could possibly be. 

Fans of the game couldn’t help but admire his ambition, his confidence when it came to setting—when it came to being on the court. There was nowhere else he seemed to fit, no where else that deemed worthy of a man like him.

He was simply made to play volleyball, he was put on the planet to coordinate the team and help lead them to their respective victories. The drive he had was envious, admirable even to professionals that were years ahead of him in experience. 

But there was a catch, just as there always seemed to be a catch when things appear too perfect or other-worldly, as Miya Atsumu was considered the most egocentric man in all of Japan. 

Yes, his talent was astonishing and his looks trumped some of the most handsome men in the world, but he was a complete and utter narcissist to the public eye. A complete asshole in all senses of empathy. 

He was perhaps an enigma. A man that no one person could quite figure out. A total mystery to everyone but those close to him—to everyone but his twin-brother and the few teammates that he considered friends.

And it wasn’t that the public wanted to hate him, they wanted nothing more than to find a redeeming quality, something that would save his reputation—the ignorant reputation that he’d somehow managed to build himself over the course of his professional career.

Tabloids constantly had new headlines to publish, weekly reports on whatever star-born attitude Atsumu had acted on in public, during games, or even in the safety of the team’s after parties—parties that he’d rarely be found at.

The most common hate train would be the look he’d give the camera every time he so much as scored a point mid-match. The cocky, full of himself gaze to the viewers watching at home, as if to say that he was the real King of the Court. 

Holding up his hands in the shape of a heart, Atsumu would smile with a smug grin, teeth flashing white and sticking his tongue out dramatically. He’d hold the position for a few seconds, making sure that the camera got a good take of his face, before returning to the adrenaline rush of the game.

It was as if he became an even better player after his boastful routine, focusing on the game as if it was life or death, as if he would be ruined if they were to lose a single point—frightening the other team with one glance, one look forcing them to crumble underneath their own dead weight.

With his rare intimidating attitude, the Black Jackals had little to nothing to worry about when it came to their setter. He was reliable, always there to pick up the slack when all odds seemed to be against them—when the books refused to read in their favor.

And his teammates absolutely loved him, they knew him better than nearly anyone other than Osamu. When microphones and interviewers shoved misguided questions in their faces, they’d always defend him, as they were more than just players on the same side of the court—they were practically brothers.

So, when it’d be time to stay after the game to greet the fans, give them kisses on the cheek while the camera cemented their meeting in history, his friends paid no mind to how quickly Atsumu would rush out of the building. They’d pay no attention to how he’d refuse to entertain his fans, only stopping for one girl—one girl who’d offered him a bouquet of bright yellow daisies. 

“Thank you.” He’d mutter, nodding his head at the young girl before stalking off, ignoring how she fawned over the beauty of his facial features, obsessing over the way he’d just so much as acknowledged her existence. 

Pulling out of the stadium’s parking lot was always a big hassle, with the media and paparazzi awaiting his exit, video cameras taping his every move and step he took. There was zero privacy for him, every one of his secrets always seeming to be on film.

But Atsumu didn’t care, he didn’t mind running over a few parking cones, forcing the photographers to jump out of his car’s way, back onto the sidewalk where they belonged. He had absolutely no disregard for their safety according to the new’s titles.

As well as no respect to traffic laws. Speeding limits was a thing of the past in his mind, always going about twenty miles over, whether that was on a highway or neighborhood street. His life ran on double time, needing to be in a rush, a rush away from his duties.

His sports car headed north on the daily, never straying from its path, in pursuit of the same destination every day—every time he had the chance to escape the responsibilities of being a world-known athlete.

And though the world liked to act as if they knew everything about him, as if he was an open book whose chapters were updated every week, no one knew why Atsumu would spend so much time at the international hospital. Why he’d enter the building in the evenings and leave at dawn.

Even today, after the loss of a championship match, he wore the brightest smile on his face while holding a massive bouquet of yellow daisies—the flower that’d always accompany him through the blank grey walls of the healing center.

The grin would stay plastered, the expression reading ingenuity as he’d walk through the automatic doors, taking a final glance back to make sure that no one had followed him, before letting the facade crumble—before he let it dissolve into a somber frown. 

“Looking beautiful as always.” Atsumu laughed, waltzing up to the front desk, greeting his favorite worker as she rolled her eyes, passing him the check in sheet with a pointed look. “How’s my girl doing?”

The woman behind the counter took a deep breath, inspecting his signature to ensure that he hadn’t signed in the wrong place, before looking up to respond to his question—the same question that he asked her every day.

“Waiting for you.” She said, gesturing that everything was alright and he could proceed to the dual elevators that carried him to the top floor, the floor in which permanent residents stayed. “She’s up there waiting, just like she always is.”

Blowing the clerk a joking kiss, Atsumu carried on, holding the bouquet with a death grip, picking at the flowers to make sure that they looked their absolute best—that they deserved to be held in his favorite girl’s hands. 

Standing in the elevator, his heart dropped at each ding. It was a sound that he had never gotten used to, one that haunted him as he slept, taunting him as if to say that the minutes were counting down—the minutes losing their value, the minutes he had left with her decreasing. 

Despite how much he loathed the noise, how he wished he could shut it all off, make time stop just so he could have an infinite amount of moments by her side—he knew that life would come to the point in which he’d hear that sound one last time. A point in which he’d leave the building and never have a reason to return. 

As he approached the room he knew all too well, Atsumu brought his hand up to a light knock on the door, giving her a little heads up that he was there, that he didn’t forget about her even though he’d maintained his constant routine for months now. 

“Is that the famous Miya Atsumu I hear?” Y/N’s melodious voice called out, knowing all too well that her beloved boyfriend had arrived to harass her. Her already enlarged heart grew bigger at the sight of his brown eyes and golden hair that she’d always try to spot on the court.

While the world admired him for his physical beauty, she knew him for the beauty inside. The beauty that she was so blessed to see, the real personality that was reserved for her and her alone—not even Osamu had seen him so gentle, so caring. 

“Yer favorites,” he held out the bouquet to her in a regal manner, presenting it as if she were a queen and it was her crown. His dramatics sent her into a fit of giggles, accepting the flowers with a scoff as he rose up to press a soft kiss on her awaiting lips. 

“I saw you.” She whispered, pulling him down to meet her smile once more, relishing in the feeling of their love connecting. It was a feeling that she was addicted to, one that she longed for whenever he was away. “I saw you and the stupid little heart that you flash me on television.”

Atsumu helped her move over on the hospital bed, making enough room for him to lay down beside her as he wrapped an arm around her shoulder, his head resting on top of hers. “Stupid? You sound like the rest of ‘em.”

“No one would be calling it stupid if they knew what it meant.” He pinched her cheeks, puckering her lips to a pout and kissing her over and over again. “If they knew I only do it because I want my girl to be proud of me.”

He sighed, holding her as if she would disappear if he let go, his fear of losing her of greater importance than any public opinion or false story. His fears being valid and reasonable as neither of them knew how much time they had left—how much time they had left to be totally and completely in love. 

© aitarose.tumblr 2021. do not copy or claim my writing, works, themes, copy and paste my words, or headers as your own

[cali-holland]

Forever and Ever, Ch. 1: The Proposal

Tom Holland X Osterfield!Reader, Wedding Series

With the help of Harrison and Charlotte, Tom picks out the perfect ring for you, and now the time’s come for the perfect proposal.

Warnings: sexual themes, swearing, a lil bit of blood/violence and kind of an abusive ex? (it’s a flashback though)

Word Count: 4100

Series Masterlist

Masterlist   Tom Holland Masterlist

“We keep this love in a photograph

We made these memories for ourselves

Where our eyes are never closing

Hearts are never broken

And time's forever frozen still

So you can keep me inside the pocket of your ripped jeans

Holding me closer 'til our eyes meet

You won't ever be alone, wait for me to come home”

Photograph, Ed Sheeran

~~~

“How’s the online shopping coming?” Harrison asked, strolling into the living room when he knew you were away at work the next day. Tom let out a frustrated groan, throwing his head back on the couch.

“There’s too many choices! I don’t understand how there can be so many shapes.” Tom stated and Harrison sat beside him to look at the engagement ring website on Tom’s laptop.

“I believe they’re called cuts.” He laughed, looking over the categories and images. “God, you’re right. How are there so many options?”

“This makes no sense.” He sighed, “How do I know which one Y/N would like the most?”

“Might sound cheesy, but I think she’d say yes even if you gave her the shittiest ring.”

“Well, that’s helpful.” Tom rolled his eyes at his friend.

“Why not go in person tomorrow? Y/N will be at work anyway.” Harrison suggested, standing from the couch.

“I don’t really want paparazzi to find out, but I guess I have no choice.” He paused, “Do you think you could come with me?”

Harrison laughed, turning back to his friend. “You’re talking to the wrong sibling. I’ll call Charlotte and see if she can go with you.”

By the time you got home from work, Tom had cleared out his search history to make sure there was no evidence of his ring shopping. You had no clue anything was up, even when you saw that your younger sister texted him while you two got ready for bed that evening.

Spotting his phone light up on the bedside table just as you were about to get into bed, you asked, “Why did Charlotte text you?”

“Probably just asking if I’m back home. I think Harrison said something about your mum inviting me over for dinner this week.” He lied with a shrug as he climbed into bed on the opposite side. While his room (which was actually your room as well) was big, it still only had one night stand on your side of the bed. Any other night, Tom wouldn’t care about it, trusting you completely with his phone, but now he was worried you’d get curious and check Charlotte’s texts. It wasn’t that strange for Charlotte to text him when he got back into town, but he got lucky by remembering Harrison’s mention of family dinner plans, something he’s gotten accustomed to at the Osterfield household.

“Oh yeah, she did tell me that. Friday, right? I just assumed you’d be free.” You laughed, making yourself comfortable under the covers by snuggling into Tom’s warm embrace. “If you don’t want to-“

“No, of course I’d love to. Your family’s my family.” He reached up and knocked on the wall behind him, just for Harrison, whose bed was on the other side of the wall, to hit the wall back. “See?”

Through your fit of laughter, you managed to say, “God, he’s going to think we’re going at it.”

“Hm, well, why don’t we?” Tom winked at you, his trailing down your waist.

“As much as I missed you, I’ll pass. One of us actually went to work today.” You teased, nuzzling your face into his neck and pressing a chaste kiss to his sweet spot. “Besides, I’m still sore from last night.”

“That good, huh?” He smirked and you leaned up to kiss him.

“Watch it, Holland.” You joked, and he couldn’t help but think that one day you’d have that last name too. Tom pulled you closer to him, intertwining your left hand with his, as you laid down with your head on his chest. As you drifted off to sleep, he mindlessly traced over your ring finger, mind racing with what the perfect ring would look like right in that very spot.

The next day, you went away to work as usual, and Tom put on his most incognito outfit- dark hoodie, dark jeans, sunglasses (though it wasn’t actually too bright out), dark baseball cap. He was completely unrecognizable for the paparazzi.

“Why are you dressed like that?” Harrison asked as he and Tom got in the car because, while Harrison still felt that Charlotte was the better sibling to ask for help, he wanted to go as moral support for his best friend. You know, best man duties and all that. In his casual white t-shirt and jeans, he looked the exact opposite of Tom.

“I’m not having anyone recognize. Not today.” Tom insisted.

“Whatever you say.” He laughed.

The two of them met Charlotte at the ring shop, after they parked a little ways away (because Tom didn’t want his car to be parked right in front of the store- that’s too “obvious”, according to him). Charlotte, just as Harrison had, commented on his rather dull outfit, but yet again, he always wore black in some form. Despite their fashion remarks, Tom was glad to have your siblings with him, or rather his future in-laws, you just didn’t know that yet.

“What about this one?” Charlotte asked, pointing to yet another ring. She’d shown Tom nearly a dozen rings that she thought you’d like, meanwhile Tom was overwhelmed by the choices. They lost Harrison to the men’s section shortly after walking inside because he wanted more.

“I don’t know. This is all so much.” Tom sighed, looking at the pretty engagement ring in the glass case. It was delicate and beautiful, but he still didn’t know. He had been told that the ring will “speak” to him, that he’ll just know when he sees it. He wished it was as easy as knowing you were the one for him; all it took was one glance at you and he knew he wanted to be with you forever. You were his forever.

After what must have been the twentieth “what do you think of this one?” from Charlotte (which he did deeply appreciate her help), Tom was ready to give up hope on this store. Maybe this store didn’t have the perfect ring. Shoving his hands in his hoodie’s pocket, he scanned over the rings again, the shiny silver beginning to blur together.

“Check this out.” Harrison called to them from across the store.

“Haz, mate, I don’t want to look at one of your rings.” Tom answered, running a hand over his face.

“No, you div. I like this ring for Y/N.” He replied, and both Tom and Charlotte immediately came over to him. Sitting in front of Harrison, in the back corner of the case, was the most perfect ring Tom had ever seen. He was speechless, and he knew it was the one.

“Can we see that one please?” Charlotte asked the worker, reading Tom’s slacked jaw expression as one of pure amazement. The worker pulled out the ring from behind the glass, and Harrison and Charlotte both exchanged a look of ‘that’s it’ while Tom examined it.

“Yes. That’s the one.” Tom nodded, and the two siblings let out their bated breaths in relief. As Tom and the worker settled out the measurements and price, Harrison waited with his sister by the door.

“And now he just needs to propose.” Charlotte laughed.

“I bet he’s going to faint before he even gets the words out. Y/N will just have to piece it together.” Harrison joked.

“Do you know how he’s doing it?” She asked.

“Oh yeah, she’s so going to cry.” Harrison watched the cashier slide the pink ring box over to Tom, finalizing the deal, and he felt a wave of pride overcome him. His two favorite people in the world were getting married; he wasn’t sure if he’d make it through this without shedding a few happy tears himself.

~~~

Tom let out a sigh, taking a step back to examine his bedroom. From the Christmas lights strung around the room to the bed sheet hanging on the wall across from the projector, everything was perfect. There were even a few rose petals scattered on the floor. He ran a nervous hand through his hair, his other hand slipping into his pocket to fish out the little pink box. Opening the box, his heart started to beat impossibly faster. It had only been two days since he bought it, but he felt like he could stare at it forever, and, well, if you said yes, then he’d gladly stare at it forever.

“Y/N,” He mumbled under his breath, beginning to pace a little. Another deep breath escaped his lips as he continued quietly rehearsing, “Y/N Osterfield, will you marry me?”

“Yes.”

Tom had never jumped so high in his life, but he eased up immediately when he realized it was just Harrison in the doorway, arms crossed as he took in the new look to Tom’s room.

“So? How does it look?” Tom asked, closing the box and pocketing it once more. His hand remained in his pocket, thumbing over the object, like he was worried the box would vanish into thin air. He felt his hands start to shake a little at the unimpressed look on Harrison’s face.

“Like you’re going to be engaged by the end of the night.” He said encouragingly, unable to hide his happy smile any longer. “Now, come on, lover boy, she’ll be here any minute.”

“Do you think she’ll be able to tell? I want to surprise her.”

Harrison looked at the room again and then at his nervous friend, who was a little too nicely dressed for a casual movie night in; yet again maybe Harrison just wasn’t used to Tom wearing anything but sweats and a hoodie around the house. It seemed obvious, but maybe you would be too tired from a day at work to notice. Before he could reply, Harry shouted from downstairs.

“She’s here!”

Quickly, Tom and Harrison rushed out of the room, closing the door softly behind them. They went to the kitchen, where Harry and Tuwaine also stood, all four of them trying to act casual as they waited for you to come inside.

“Ed Sheeran? Are you sure?” Tuwaine asked, questioning Tom’s choice of music for the night.

“Yes. What’s wrong with Ed Sheeran?” Tom refuted.

“It’s a little unoriginal.” Harry added, and his brother narrowed his eyes at him.

“Unoriginal?”

“I brought dinner!” You announced, walking into the house. Tom sent his brother and friends a quick look of “don’t say anything” before he went to greet you at the door. His smile widened as he saw you, kicking off your shoes beside the shoe bin, balancing two bags of takeout.

“How was work?” Tom asked as he took the bags from you.

“Boring. Wish I could’ve been here with you.” You replied with a smile, your arms wrapping around his neck to bring him in for a kiss. His hands found your waist, the takeout bags hanging from his wrist, as you kissed him like you hadn’t seen him in weeks, not that he was complaining though because there was plenty of lost time to make up for.

Just as your tongue brushed over his lips, making him smile into the kiss, Harrison walked in the room, scoffing, “Get a room.”

“Don’t worry. We will.” You stated, not stepping out of Tom’s embrace as you looked at your brother. Harrison just rolled his eyes at you. You let go of Tom to make your way to the kitchen with both boys following behind you.

“Remember when you hated Tom?” Harrison teased, his normal playful smile on his face as he eyed you cuddled up to his best friend across the dinner table.

You rolled your eyes at his attempt at a joke, “Hate is an overstatement. Besides, I obviously got over that ruined dress a long time ago.”

“What happened to change that?” Tuwaine asked innocently. All eyes fell on you and Tom, and you remained uncharacteristically quiet, opting to drink some water instead of responding.

“Just time, I guess.” Tom shrugged, doing his best to save you from the topic.

While you did spend the first year of knowing Tom completely ignoring his attempts at being nice to you (which ranged from him offering to help you with groceries when you and Harrison still lived at home together to him greeting you when you walked in a room), your hostility seemed to change over night for the bystanders that were your siblings, his brothers, and your mutual friends.

It was sometime in the fall of 2014; Tom didn’t really remember the day exactly, or rather the night. He just remembered that he wasn’t in the mood to go clubbing with Harrison in some no-name London nightclub, but he went nonetheless. He soon lost his friend to some girl in the crowd, and Tom found himself perched on a barstool, nursing a beer. He checked his phone with a sigh; it’d been only half an hour since he walked through the door. He scanned the crowd in front of him, looking for any sign of Harrison, when his eyes caught sight of you.

Out on the dancefloor with a carefree smile on your face, you still managed to take his breath away. It had been over a year since the incident, and you hadn’t backed down from your grudge against him. Meanwhile, for Tom, he wanted to keep trying because, maybe one day, you’d tolerate him enough that he could actually talk to you. All he heard from your mutual friends (not Harrison because he’d never speak highly of you to another guy, especially one that he already knew was crushing on you, even if Tom refused to admit it) was that you were incredibly sweet and kind and funny and smart and basically everything Tom was looking for. Sighing again, he took another drink of his beer and returned to his previous task of seeking out Harrison.

When he still came up empty handed looking for his friend, Tom’s eyes managed to find their way back to you, but this time that same smile wasn’t on your face. No, you actually looked pissed off, an expression that Tom was very used to seeing. It was then that Tom spotted a seemingly very drunk Richard beside you, Richard from the party, Richard who had been your boyfriend for the past few months, Richard who Tom absolutely loathed. He hadn’t heard much about your relationship, except for the fact that Harrison thought Richard was a “conceited, manipulative asshole” who wasn’t good for you at all. Curiously, Tom watched you interact with him as you crossed your arms, saying something that made Richard roll his eyes at you and grab your elbow forcefully. As Richard dragged you out to a hallway of the club, Tom immediately shot up to follow you two.

“Let me go. I told you, Richard, we’re done.” You said, trying to get out of his painful grip.

“No, we’re done when I say we’re done.” He barked back. Tom took that as his cue to step in, standing a bit taller as he did so.

“Hey, leave her alone.” Tom interjected, and you looked at him, surprised by his appearance.

“Tom, what the hell are you doing here?” You asked. It was Tom’s turn to be surprised; you’d spoken to him, and you’d used his name- up until this moment, he thought you didn’t even know that.

“Pool boy?” Richard scoffed, and you and Tom simultaneously rolled your eyes, “Run along. This is between me and my girlfriend.”

“Sounds like she isn’t your girlfriend anymore.” He hardly got his taunting comment out before Richard let go of you just to punch Tom square in the nose. Tom stumbled backwards a little and regained his footing to punch him right back. Richard staggered in surprise by the force of the blow, and you took the opportunity to grab Tom’s hand and run from the hallway back into the crowded club. He didn’t protest as he followed you through the swarm of people, allowing you to take him out of the club.

“Why did you do that?” You said quietly, once the two of you were outside in the cold night air. You let go of his hand and didn’t even turn to look at him, opting to pace the sidewalk a little while he leaned against the wall, clutching his nose.

“He was harassing you.” Tom stated. When you heard the slight nasaliness to his voice, you turned to look at him and your eyes grew wide as you realized his nose was bleeding.

“Oh god,” You winced.

“Dick packs a punch.” He tried to laugh, but the humor was lost from his grimace in pain.

“Come on, my place is around the corner.” At your offer, Tom furrowed his eyebrows at you in confusion. Playfully, you added, “I can’t leave my knight in shining armor to bleed out on the side of the road.”

“I doubt I’d bleed out from this.” Tom mused, and the two of you began to walk back to your apartment. 

A comfortable silence fell between the two of you until there was a particularly brisk gust of autumn wind, making you instinctively shiver. Your sleeveless dress did nothing to shield you from the chilly air, and Tom noticed. Ever so awkwardly, he started to try to shimmy out of his jacket, mindful of his bloody hand. You paused, looking over at him in confusion, “Are you trying to give me your jacket?”

“Shut up.” He mumbled, embarrassed but still trying to take off his jacket to offer it to you. Biting your lip to keep yourself from laughing at the humor of it all, you helped him.

“What is it with you and jackets?” You joked, slipping it on over your shoulders. Seeing as he was in a long sleeve shirt and jeans, and that your apartment was just ahead, you weren’t going to decline his offer.

“I don’t know.” Tom shrugged, laughing a little at the memory, “I’m just trying to be chivalrous.”

“Very chivalrous, indeed.” You nodded as a laugh escaped your lips.

“Maybe one day, I’ll get it right.”

Tom felt that maybe this lighthearted air between the two of you was a step in the right direction for the two of you, even if he was clutching his bloody nose the whole time. Back at your apartment, he propped himself up on the bathroom counter and you got a few rags together to clean him up. With his legs spread, you stood in between them, wiping the blood on his nose off with a wet rag.

“Thank you, by the way.” You mumbled, concentrated on your work.

“Anytime.” He answered, his eyes studying you closely, memorizing every detail of your face. This was the first, and hopefully not the last, time that you had been this close to him and, damn, did he enjoy it.

“Let’s not make this a regular thing.” You teased. “And can you, um, can you not tell Harrison? He tends to get overprotective.”

“Shit.” Tom groaned and you immediately stopped your actions, thinking you’d somehow managed to hurt him. “I forget Harrison.”

“At the club?” You asked, a small smile coming over your face, and he nodded sheepishly.

“He was off dancing with some girl.”

“So he forgot about you.” You joked, before seriously adding, “You should probably let him know you left, but-”

“I won’t tell him. This is our secret, I promise.”

And Tom still fully intended to keep that promise. Years down the road, Harrison still had no clue that your ex was the one who almost broke Tom’s nose, but it’s not like your brother remembered that night anyway. All he knew was that the very next day, when you came over for drinks with him and the boys, you and Tom spoke to each other. And, well, Harrison couldn’t help the small flicker of happiness that filled him to see his best friend and his twin sister getting along... finally.

“Yep, just time.” You nodded, sending Tom a small, grateful smile.

Dinner seemed to last forever for Tom; you just did not eat fast enough for him. He even started doing the dishes while you sat at the table and talked to Harry just to distract himself from the itching nerve to just drop down on one knee right in front of you. It didn’t help that Tom knew Harry, Harrison, and Tuwaine were all anxiously wanting you to leave; they didn’t want to contain the secret any longer either. After nearly an hour of self-restraint on his part, he finally suggested you change out of your work clothes.

“So what movie tonight?” You asked as you made your way down the hall with Tom.

“I was thinking we could do something a little different tonight.” He said, a small smile playing on his lips. You eyed him skeptically before turning to open the bedroom door. You felt yourself choke up at the scene before you. Taking in the roses and lights as well as the room’s overall new romantic atmosphere, you were speechless.

“C’mon.” Tom slid past you in the doorway, holding out a hand for you. When you took it, he led you all the way inside the room, closing the door behind you.

“You did all of this for me?” You breathed out in disbelief, still processing the dramatic transformation.

“Of course.”

As you sat down beside him at the foot of the bed, in the perfect position to view the projected image, Tom quickly got out his phone to play the slideshow. Hearing the familiar tune of Ed Sheeran’s “Photograph”, you smiled, snuggling into Tom’s side. You watched in admiration as various pictures floated across the screen.

The very, very ugly first picture of the two of you together at 17 (with Dick cropped out and Harrison’s face replaced with a heart emoji). One of the many pictures the two of you took together when you went to Paris for your three year anniversary a few months ago. Goofy selfies you’ve taken together that should never be seen by anyone else. One taken by Harrison when Monty and Tessa’s leashes got tangled, trapping you and Tom together, before you were even actually together. A photo of you two in the world’s worst matching Christmas sweaters two years ago because Tom thought it’d be funny (and it was). Another photograph taken straight from a gossip magazine of the two of you at the Far From Home premiere (it was your favorite picture from the red carpet but also you couldn’t find it without the watermark); immediately following that one was Tom helping you remove your make up after the after party, make up wipe in hand (you two weren’t 100% sober when that was taken).

All of them were pictures of the happiest, most memorable days in your life, all moments that happened with the love of your life. As the song came to its bridge, Tom shifted out of your embrace to stand up, his hand deep in his pocket. When he turned to face you, his face dropped, realizing you were very teary-eyed.

“Darling, no, you’re not supposed to cry.” Worry was flowing through him now. What if you didn’t want this? What if you said no?

“Tom, yes.” You nodded, biting your lip to refrain from full on crying.

“Yes?” He repeated, suddenly confused.

“Are you going to ask me to marry you or not?” You teased. With a laugh, Tom got down on one knee in front of you, pulling out the ring box and opening it to present you with the most beautiful ring you could’ve imagined.

“Y/N Osterfield, the first time we met, you called me a dumbass, and I still am, but now I’m your dumbass that doesn’t know how to write one of those cheesy proposal speeches. You’re my best friend and my soulmate, and you know me better than anyone else. There’s no one else that I’d rather spend forever with, so will you spend forever with me and marry me?” Tom asked, hands shaking a little due to the nerves. Smiling and nodding, you leaned in to kiss him, despite the awkward angle from you still being on the bed and him still kneeling.

“Yes, yes, yes.” You mumbled happily between kisses. 

Laughing, Tom pulled away from you, “Don’t forget about the ring.” He took the ring out of the box and you held your left hand out to him for him to slide it onto your ring finger. You looked at the ring in awe for a moment.

“I love you, fiancé.” You said, eyes trailing for your ring to Tom.

“I love you, too, fiancée.” He replied and leaned in to kiss you. With his lips moving with yours, he brought himself up off the ground, blindly climbing onto the bed as you laid down on the blankets. Murmuring into your lips, Tom repeated his words happily, “My fiancée.”

~~~

Tag List: @viagracex @theamazingtomholland @Hellomoveonby @heyitsshrez @harrisonosterfieldhazmyheart @joyleenl @t-o-m-hollands @lonikje @sleepybesson @sunkisseddreamer @hollandsamor @in-a-lot-of-fandoms-tbh @gorrillaglue23 @petersoftboyparker @musicalkeys @duskholland @biebsmylife95 @dummiesshort @perspectiveparker​ 

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[drakewalkerfantasy]

The Secret of Downfall (Tatum x F!MC)

Summary: The Secret is the only way for them to be together. But how long will they be able to keep it until Madam President will find out the truth? And how easily it will be for them not forget about the rules in public? Couple of drinks in and the darkness… will it be possible for them to keep a secret? Or will they fall ones again in the arms of each other?

Words: 2216

Rating: T

Warning: fighting / cruelty / violence

Authors notes: I really hope you will enjoy this. Please let me know if still want to be tagged and what I can improve. I hope you will like this chapter, it’s quite short and probably mostly not what I expected it to be at first. I hope you still enjoy reading this series.

Sequel for The art of Foreign Affairs

Previous parts of The Secret of Foreign Affairs.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

The next morning, after getting caught in a compromising situation, Claire entered the common room of the suite only to find her mother and her whole team camped out around the kitchen island.

Nervously Claire looked around the room, throwing a quick glance toward Tatum. Her eyes trying to catch his gaze, but he almost seemed to be going out of his way to not meet hers. His fists clenched by his side and he looked as professional as ever, if not for the way his eyes darkened slightly, that it could be easily missed, but not by her.

“Uh, good morning,” she cautiously said looking around the room, feeling the tension only grew when all eyes fell on her. “Mom? I thought you left.”

“Really? I was forced to come back to clear your mess. Apparently, my daughter failed to notify me that she got caught by paparazzi with her pants down,” she snapped, showing a copy of Voyeur magazine into Claire’s hands with a picture of herself and Tatum on the cover. She could feel how her heart skipped a beat, while she took in the picture. Breathing out in relief only after realising that it wasn’t possible to tell who was on the cover with her.

“Ohmygod...,” gasped Claire, feeling how her face went pale. Thankful that no one could possibly know who she was with, blurting that out loud. “At least you can’t tell who it is with me...”

“THIS... THIS what you can tell in your defense???” fumed her mother, her eyes narrowing with spite when she glared toward Tatum. Her gaze calculating, trying to break through his facade, to read him, but still in vain. And her lips pursed by barely suppressed fury.

“It does provide us some cover...,” intervened one of her mother’s political analysts. “But it’s also causing a feeding frenzy online. Everyone is speculating on who your mystery lover is. I would suggest to give a statement identifying the mystery lover. Once we can show this isn’t Claire being... promiscuous with some random stranger...”

“So... Claire? Who is it?” asked her mother, tapping her stiletto heel against the wooden floor impatiently. “You heard her,” she said nodding her head toward the political analyst from her team. “If you want your name to be cleared and all that mistake left behind, you cannot keep that to yourself. The only way we can fight this thing is if you tell us who it is."

Claire’s eyes snapped up to meet Tatum’s gaze across the room. His expression is as impassive as ever, but the spark of fury in his eyes flaming.

“I will NOT name them,” exclaimed Claire fiercely, crossing her hands over her chest, stubbornly meeting her mother’s glare. “I will not drag them into this. The world doesn’t need to know every single detail about me or my love life.”

“Don’t you think that this is a little bit too late to thing about that? And clearly this person is a bad influence on you. You never acted like that before,” snapped her mother.

“Or maybe I just realised that I own it to myself to live a little,” bit Claire back.

“Claire...,” hissed her mother, lowering her voice so only she would hear her. “I will go through your phone if I have to. Is it clear?”

“Seriously? You have so little respect for my privacy?”

“It’s not that, but your future is in jeopardy now. And I’m worried about you.”

“Let’s at least be honest with each other. All that you care about is you and your campaign.”

Claire’s mother opened her mouth to retort, but Winston cut her off.

“Let’s all calm down and see what we can do to spin the story with information we already have,” said Winston, looking around the room before placing his hand on Claire's mother’s elbow and pulling her to the side. His voice lowered to the whisper so only she would hear. His eyes surveying the room so they wouldn’t be overheard by anyone. “Madam President, we don’t have enough evidence that this mystery lover is your daughter’s bodyguard. Last time we had letters, this time we have only words of some guy from Vancross and the fact Claire was lying. We will make sure that our plan is set in motion as soon as possible, but meantime you need to wait while your team will gather more evidence of who this mystery lover is and twist it so he is the one who sold pictures.” Both eyes fell to Tatum, watching him to put a hand to his earpiece before stepping forward.

“Madam President, the limo is ready for you,” said Tatum. His posture stiff, his voice even and his eyes looking into nowhere.

“Good. Tatum, escort me to the airport. I want to talk to you about a few things. Demarco can oversee Claire’s security this afternoon.”

“Yes, ma’am”

Claire’s stomach twisted, when her eyes passingly met Tatum’s, while he followed her mother out the door. Leaving Claire and Winston alone.

———————————————

Hastily, they walked to the limo, Tatum following only a few paces behind Claire’s mother with her security team walking in front of them. His mind racing, and he couldn't help but have a really bad feeling of where this was all going. The same way as all these years ago.

Just before the limo he looked back to the building, catching a quick glance of Claire, behind the blinds. Even from there he could see the worried expression painted on her face before finally tearing his gaze away, and sliding into the car.

“I know you and Claire were at the club together last night, care to explain?” started Claire’s mother, as soon as they sat in limo.

“I’m the head of her security team, ma’am. And it is my responsibility to follow her everywhere and to make sure she is safe,” said Tatum.

“Yes, but Winston checked and at this time you should have been off duty and Demarco should have been with her, and even more so not to let her wander at night to some underground club.”

“She would sneak out anyway. I overheard her speaking with some of her classmates. Ma’am with all due respect,” he spoke through gritted teeth not even looking at her. “But you know there was no way of stopping her, she would sneak out anyway with me or without and she would never take agent Demarco with her.”

“Fine, but people noticed how cosy you seemed to be... getting tequila shots, and then disappearing... together. Am I wrong?”

“No... but she insisted. She cannot understand why I’m like... like that.”

“Like what?”

“We were friends for more than a decade for almost two decades, and then I just disappeared from her life for 5 years only to suddenly reappear now.”

“Lie to her.”

“I tried, but if you think that your daughter is so naive to believe some white lies you don’t know her at all. She can see straight through me. Always could,” said Tatum with cold blooded calm, finally meeting Claire’s mother’s gaze.

“Then make her believe. I have ears and eyes everywhere, so better do as I ask and don’t you dare lie to me. As, if I will find out you or she are lying, and it seems she became surprisingly good at it, the consequences will be for both. You and her. Is it clear?” said Claire’s mother waiting for Tatum to nod, when the limo stopped. “Good. But I still believe you may need a reminder of what will happen if you will disobey me,” spoke she when the doors suddenly slid open revealing the iron walled warehouse of Vancross’ airport. And she nodded in a silence order for Tatum to get out of the limo.

He looked around after stepping outside of the vehicle, noting the fighting ring in the middle of the floor and five bodyguards waiting already next to it. Claire’s mother walked silently behind him.

Her stiletto heels tapped on the metallic floor, and her next words bounced as a muffled echo from the iron walls of the warehouse, when Tatum stopped. His eyes calmly following Madam President’s movements till she finally sat in a comfortable chair covered by the darkness.

“Fight,” the cold order came from the shadows, while Tatum’s calculated gaze moved from one President’s personal bodyguard to another.

All strong. All coming from the Rutherland’s best fighters club. All ex-soldiers... and all hated him.

He knew that he had no chance for a fair fight. He also knew that willingly or not he still will need to fight them. And he doubted that he had even a slightest chance to remain unscratched, but he still needed to try... for Claire... Always for her.

“Ma’am, wouldn’t it be easier just to kill me?” asked Tatum in a calm voice, throwing only a sideway glance at Claire’s mother, regretting only one thing, that he couldn’t say proper goodbye to Claire, couldn’t kiss her like it would be their last time. Not sure if he ever will have another chance to kiss her again.

“You may get your wish... later. After I will get more proof that you are her mystery lover. For now it’s just a warning to keep your distance from my daughter. No more disappearing together... no more smiles... no more eye contact. You may think you are subtle, but she isn’t. So you will fight them, and you,” she looked at her bodyguards with a cold unmoving gaze. “Make sure that every blow you will send his way will be excruciatingly painful but not visible. He is still a head of my daughter’s security team, and I don’t need unnecessary questions. Not from her, not anyone. I want him to remember this last lesson, and my last warning... but still be alive, at least for now. Now fight,” she barked, nodding to two others bodyguards to get Tatum and throw him onto the ring, taking him by surprise.

He landed on his hands and knees with a thud, groaning from the impact, when the first blow went straight to his guts, but his reaction was faster. He blocked it with a side of his shoulder. The force of the block sending the attacker to the floor before getting back to his feet and looking around.

His eyes darkened with rage, but it was the only thing that gave him away. With his peripheral vision he could see another blow coming his way, blocking it faster than it could reach its destination, but almost missing the swing from behind. The one that he managed to dodge at the last second, only to be met with a sharp blinding pain from someone hitting him straight in the stomach with the heavy military boot.

The pain made him sway, but he stubbornly held his balance gritting his teeth. No way he will let them beat him so easily... the thought is fleeting, but strong enough to almost physically heighten his senses, making him dodge the next strike easily. Overcoming the pain and finally sending his own hand to connect with one of the bodyguards’ jaws. Feeling how the skin on his knuckles split from the impact.

His breath elevated and ragged. And he could see how the rage started to rise in the attackers, when the blows began to pour one after the other from all directions, making them much difficult to dodge or block, and more often to miss. But he was still trying, desperately.

Tired. Angry. Bleeding. He was still bravely fighting. Gritting his teeth, ducking the punch after the punch, before landing a couple of his own. Watching how the five fighters getting tired... exhausted, but still unable to send him to the ground and make him stay there as every time he fell he was stubbornly rising back to his feet. As he was fighting for her... she was the only thing that kept him going... Claire... his Claire. The same thing, that he was so cruelly beaten for loving.

And after a while it started to seem that even five of them would be not able to break him. His eyes meeting Madam President’s gaze, distracting him only for a split second to miss the attacker behind him. He could feel a pair of hands gripping him from behind. Felt how the others started to punch and kick him from all sides taking the opportunity as a sign, while two held him still. And he could feel how with the next blow in his groin followed by another one in his stomach the wind was knocked out of him, and he fell to the cement floor with a gust of pain. His ribs aching, and he could barely breath feeling the sharp pain shooting through him with each gulp for air. His eyes closing, but he still could feel the pain, wishing for the darkness to follow, when he heard the quiet voice whispering right into his ear:

“Now clean that mess, and make sure tomorrow you will be good enough to accompany Claire to her date... with Blaine.” The cruel last words like a sharp blade sliced through him before the merciful darkness finally swallowed him.

Tagging: @choices-bound​​​ @jamespotterthefirst​​​ @mercury84choices​​​ @k2624​​​ @thefrenchiemama​​​ @choicesreal​​​ @starrystarrytrouble​​​ @boneandfur​​​ @walkerswhiskeygirl​​​ @sophxwithers​​​ @ramseysrookiex​​

[satoruvt]

the color of you - gold (2)

i lost the template for the banner i used in part one so i had to make a new one and it looks different and im sad but at least this chapter is fuckin AWESOME

pairing → keigo takami x bakery owner!reader

word count → 1736

summary → you’re not really dating, so you can’t really be in love with him… right?

song inspo → portland by armors

part one | part two | part three | part four | part five

“Does everything look correct?”

The packet in front of you is intimidating, thick and detailing every aspect of the relationship you and Hawks are supposed to have. You flip through the pages, looking over the big points - no one but you, Hawks, his publicist and your lawyer are to know about the terms of your “relationship,” you need to be okay with having your picture taken, and the whole thing will only last a few months to cover a few press conferences and an awards ceremony. The line for your signature on the last page is blank - you expected Hawks to have signed it already, but the line above his name is blank as well. The ball’s in your court, it’s saying.

“Yes,” you say, nodding up at his publicist. “Everything looks fine, thank you.”

“Any boundaries?” Hawks speaks up, and you meet his eyes from across the table. You shake your head no, offering a curt, gentle smile. Your lawyer hands you a pen to sign the contract, and after a deep breath, you drag the pen across the paper in your name. Hawks does the same after you.

“There we go,” he says when he’s done, clicking the pen. His smile is laid-back, easy. “We’re officially in an unofficial relationship.”

You can’t help the smile that dances on your lips, because it really is ironic, but it’s quickly forgotten as the publicist goes over the general idea. There are big events scheduled for the two of you to be seen together - the press conferences, a few dates, the awards ceremony. You’re welcome to do anything else that you might want, the publicist says, and you don’t miss the wink Hawks sends you.

The rest of the meeting is settled with a copy of the contract handed to your lawyer, and the four of you disperse. You’re gathering up your things when you see Hawks waiting in the doorway. “Let me walk you to the front,” he says, and you do.

His agency building is smaller than you thought it would be, given he’s the number two hero. You get strange looks from a few people as the two of you walk towards the front - you’re not surprised, if you were anybody else but yourself you’d be curious too - and it’s not until the two of you are in the elevator, taking it down to the first floor, that Hawks speaks again.

“So,” he begins, and you turn towards him. “Fancy going on a date with me tonight?”

His gaze is playful, so you join in, and it’s not as awkward as you thought it would be. “You read my mind. Must be a lovers’ connection.”

He likes the humor, you decide, when his teasing smirk grows into a grin. “Well, I figure since we’re gonna be dating for the next few months, I should know about my new girlfriend. Doesn’t do well for the press if they ask me questions about you that I don’t know how to answer.”

You laugh, nodding along to his words. The elevator doors open and the two of you continue to the front of the building in comfortable silence.

“I’m very much looking forward to our date tonight,” you tell him when the two of you reach the front doors. They slide open as another person walks into the building, and the warm air from outside brushes against your legs. Hawks grins, pulls you closer to press a chaste kiss to your cheek. It takes you by surprise and you feel your face grow hot, but before you can say anything Hawks is already walking back to his office.

“See you tonight, babe!” He calls, and you roll your eyes, but the soft smile on your face would fool anyone.

And although it’s embarrassing to blush over something as simple as a cheek kiss, you suppose the pink on your face is a good thing. You notice paparazzi outside of the agency, and they definitely saw what just happened.

-

By this point, you’re not really nervous to be going on a date - “date” - with Hawks, but Jesus, it’s stressful to pick out what the hell you’re gonna wear. Do you actually try? Do you put on some jeans and a nice blouse and call it good? What does going on a fake date with the Number Two hero call for?

In the end you settle for a sundress, something in the middle. It doesn’t take much longer for you to finish up getting ready before you’re heading out the door to the restaurant Hawks had told you to meet him at. You’re lucky it’s not that far away - a fifteen minute walk at most. The sun glows in the evening light, drenching the world in melted gold.

The restaurant is small, but filled with a decent amount of people. When you step inside the gentle hum of overlapping conversation fills your bones, and you see Hawks in a booth down a walkway. You point him out to the hostess and she lets you find your way to him. 

“It’s awfully rude to keep your date waiting,” he says when you get close enough, standing up to greet you.

“What can I say? I dress to impress.”

Hawks kisses your cheek and you scrunch your nose at the feel of his stubble on your face. He lets you into one side of the booth, and you’re expecting him to sit on the opposite side, but instead he sits next to you. The low light of the lamp overhead makes his eyes brighter.

“You do look great.”

“Why, thank you.”

Both of you are teasing, playful, and the conversation is fluid to follow. You’re not speaking across a table so your voices are hushed, gentle, and you think you’re starting to understand why Hawks chose to sit next to you rather than across from you - it’s intimate, couple-y. 

“You know,” you say, finger tracing the rim of your wine glass, “since we’ve been dating for a total of, like, five hours, there’s a lot that I don’t know about you.”

“Ugh, were you even a fan?” Hawks teases, and you scoff, rolling your eyes. His tone softens when you make eye contact with him. “Ask away.”

“For starters, I don’t even know your real name.” You lean your head on your palm as you look at him. “And I feel like, as your girlfriend, I am entitled to that.”

Hawks chuckles, and there’s a certain look in his eyes that you can’t put your finger on. “It’s Keigo Takami.”

Keigo.

“Keigo, huh?” You repeat. It floats around in your mind, lingers on your tongue like the taste of honey. It reminds you of amber, gold, of coins and riches. Keigo.

“Well, I’m Y/N L/N.”

“I know, I looked you up.”

“At least one of us is smart.”

By the time your food comes, you’re barely eating, and it catches up to you how much the two of you have been talking. You’d been worried that the whole thing would be awkward and weird and not at all convincing, but you’re certain if anyone saw the two of you right now, they’d assume you were dating. The conversation rarely stops, and if it does -

Oh. He’s close.

There’s a moment of silence, a break from talking as you shift from one topic to another. On top of the two of you already being close from sitting on the same side of the table, with how much you’ve been talking, you’ve just gravitated towards each other. His arm is draped over the back of the bench, casual, but you can’t really focus when you fixate on his lips.

“And so we, um…” you trail off, then blink yourself out of your trance. “Wow, I completely forgot what I was gonna say.”

Hawks - Keigo - notices, and his face is smug. The smirk on his lips is nothing short of pride.

“Catching feelings for me already, Y/N?”

“In your dreams,” you bounce back.

For the first time tonight, you check your phone. It’s getting late, and although you don’t live very far away, you don’t want to be caught alone after dark. “Ah, I should probably get going.”

Keigo nods, reaching into his pocket to pull out a few thousand yen banknotes and set them on the table. You want to tell him that you have your own money to pay, but he cuts you off by getting out of the booth and speaking himself. “I’ll walk you home,” he says, and you furrow your brows as you get out, too.

“Are you sure? I don’t wanna trouble you.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Keigo says, offering his arm to you with a sly grin. “It’s my duty as a hero. And your boyfriend.”

He puts emphasis on the word and you can’t hide the amused smile from your lips, looping your arm through his. 

The walk to your apartment is as comfortable as being in the restaurant with him, but somehow it feels nicer. You suppose it’s the open air, the golden sun having gone down past the distant mountains, leaving remnants of its light in freckles and rosy skin. The walk home seems faster, and you find yourself a little disappointed that the night is ending so soon.

“I don’t suppose you’d like to come inside,” you say, voice sultry as the two of you stop in front of your door. “Make the paparazzi think we had a little more fun in the privacy of my home?”

Keigo shrugs, and you can see him thinking about it. “I mean, if you’re okay with it…”

“Now who’s catching feelings?”

He scrunches his face up and you giggle. When you speak again, your voice is softer. Crickets chirp somewhere nearby. 

“I had a good time, dating or not,” you tell him, find your key and unlocking the door. “Thanks for taking me out.”

Keigo takes your hand in his and brings your fingers up to his lips in a formal kiss (though the wink he sends you says otherwise). “Anytime, princess. See you later.”

He takes off out of your apartment building and you go inside, immediately laying down on your sofa in the living room. You feel over the spot on your hand where he kissed you, humming quietly to yourself. 

Maybe this won’t be as hard as you thought.

[shewillreadyou]

Becoming: Chapter 8- Cater to you

As always. I hope that you enjoy reading as much as I enjoyed writing.

A/N:Settle in for this one. It’s long. Please share, and comment. Let me know what you would like to see happen. Will Liam come through or disappoint her again? Will Raymond lay off?  

Disclaimers: All characters are property of Pixelberry

Warnings: Sexual content. FLUFF, ANGST SMUT

Catch up: Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6  Chapter 7

Word Count: 3945

Pairings: Liam Rhys and MC (Karis Vasquez)

Song inspiration: Cater 2 U- Destiny’s Child

Be Kind: Hit the heart button, leave a comment or reblog. It makes a writer so so happy.​ 

In Paris

It’s been a long awkward day and a text message from Liam left her even more deflated. She told him that it was ok, and that she understood but in the back of her mind she wondered if this was only a glimpse of the canceled plans, a portrait of how much of a priority she would be if she became his queen. She started to pour herself a glass of wine to soothe the sting in her heart she felt. She stopped and instead took a long swig directly from the bottle. Then she tucked the entire bottle under her arm and headed back into her room. 

The next few days seemed like a blur. She texted Liam every day but kept things light, knowing that anything more would spill her true feelings onto the surface. Liam called her early Thursday morning. She dared not answer, sending him directly to voicemail secretly hoping it would elicit the same response as it had last week. She also knew that he knew her well enough that he would recognize the disappointment in her voice straight away. 

In Cordonia

Braxton sends a weekly report to Liam concerning Karis’ safety. He has run off a few paparazzi who have taken pictures and noticed one guy following her a few different times, but never close enough to do her harm. Each incident is immediately reported to Liam. Liam was sitting trying to balance a budget following one of his father’s recent hospital stays. After a budget meeting, Liam just can’t seem to figure out the origin of a recurring charge that started the day he came back from Paris the first time after he reconciled with Karis. He confides in Regina who confirms his suspicions.

Meanwhile in Constantine’s office

The phone rings, it’s a phone call he had been expecting.

“Sir, I have the intel on KV, faxing it over now.” The fax comes through and Constantine reads it over. 

Impressive, the orphan daughter of an alcoholic and a junkie, and still manages to get a full academic scholarship. Pre-law major with a minor in political science, she had maintained a 4.0 GPA her entire collegiate career while holding down a job. No criminal record, no parking tickets, a credit score of 815. Currently in Paris on a paid internship at Alaris Avocats. Lives alone. The only company she has entertained since in Paris is Liam, one Mr. Matthew David Carusso, and Raymond C. Perry. 

He tucks the report into a drawer when he hears a knock on his door. 

“Liam, to what do I owe the pleasure?” 

“Father, I wanted to come to deliver the news in person. The council met while you were in the hospital and voted that due to your health and deteriorating mental capacity you are hereby relieved of your duties as the reigning monarch of Cordonia. You are now just a figurehead until my coronation. I told myself that your mental state must be the reason you are gambling with fate.” 

“Son, I don’t know what you mean?”

“Save it. Let’s make one thing clear dear Father if we have to revisit this conversation it won’t end well. I have finally managed to do an audit for the month of June.”

All the color drained from Constantine’s face. 

“You will pick up the phone this instant and order your man to stand down or you both will face my wrath.”

His face falls. “How did you–”

“The moment I left Paris I put a man on her. I know you don’t know what it means to protect the woman you claim to love. You failed my mother, but you taught me what not to do. Here’s what you fail to realize. I will protect her with my life. Your guy has been made 8 different times. Fortunately for him, he never got within 100 yards of her. My guard has been given an order to end anyone who attempts to harm her. 

Meanwhile Thursday afternoon in Paris

After taking a leisurely stroll alongside the Seine River to clear her mind Karis got a text from Raymond. 

She was just about to respond when there was a knock on the door. She grabbed her piece and headed to the door. When she cracked the door secretly hoping that it was Liam, she was disappointed to find a stranger in a black suit. She takes the safety off the .22 Liam left with her.

“Who sent you?”

When the man spots the gun, he ducks around the corner.

“Whoa, I am sorry if I scared you ma’am. Ms. Vasquez? I have been sent by Prince Liam. Could you put away the gun and come with me?”  

She closed and locked the door and put the gun down in front of her while she called Liam to check the story. 

The phone rang only once before he answers. 

“Hey, angel!”

“Adonis, don’t you hey angel me. Did you send someone to my place to pick me up?”

He laughs, “Yes, and you pulled a gun on him?”

“That’s not funny. I was scared. What is going on? Where is he taking me? What do I need to bring?”

“I’m sorry, your right dear. I definitely didn’t mean to scare you. I just wanted to surprise you. Just bring you and stop with all the questions, future attorney. Just leave your weapon at home.”

She removed the magazine and placed the gun back in her small safe. She grabbed her purse, locked her place and followed the stranger out to a town car where again she was expecting to see Liam. Alas, the car was empty. He opened the door and when she settled inside, there waiting was champagne, flowers and chocolates.  She smiled as she wondered what Liam could have possibly meant when he said that he wanted to “surprise” her. She knew that if it was anything short of him physically being in her presence she wasn’t interested. 

The car quickly navigated the streets of Paris and before long approached the airport. They pulled onto the tarmac where Karis saw the private jet with the Cordonian seal. She had never seen anything like it before. Her mouth went dry, her pulse raced and her heart felt like it was going to explode in her chest. Did the jet being here mean that Liam was inside? Before she could investigate further the door opened and the driver in the black suit took her hand to help her out of the car. 

“You’ll need to board now, Ms. Vasquez.”

She made her way over to the steps of the private jet, a cocktail of nerves, adrenaline, and excitement course through her body as she ascended the stairs. When she gets to the top, there is a thin blonde who greets her. 

“Lady Karis, on behalf of the captain, and flight crew welcome aboard. I’ll show you to your seat and make sure you have a comfortable flight. We should land in Cordonia in approximately 2 hours and 48 minutes. Please let me know if there is anything that I can do to make your flight more comfortable. 

“I guess I’m going to Cordonia then, huh?”

The flight goes by quickly as Karis reads an ABA journal. She resists the temptation to text Liam and ask more questions. When the plane landed Karis met a handsome older gentleman named Bastien, he was the head of Liam security detail he leads her to a black suv with dark window tents. It looked very similar to the one she spotted in New York the night she met Liam. The door opened and finally, there he was; he looked exhausted. He wore dark shades to hide the dark circles under his eyes. He hadn’t shaven. Black slacks and a crisp white dress shirt with the first several buttons undone. Damn, he was sexy. She went to greet him properly but Bastien stopped her. 

In Cordonia

“Not here, Ma’am.” he hastily helped her into the car and they sped off down the Cordonian roads. Liam gave her an apologetic look as he reached across the seat taking her hand. 

“Hey, Angel.” 

“Hey, babe. Are you ok? You look terrible. What is going on?”

“It’s a long story. I’m fine. I will explain it all when we arrive at our destination.”

“Adonis? What is the meaning of all of this? Why couldn’t I hug and kiss you? You don’t have a wife or fiance’ your hiding do you? I told you from the start I don’t like bullshit.”

He smiles. “You definitely went into the right field. You are the only woman in my life. You couldn’t kiss or hug me because the paparazzi were all over the place. I will let them know about you when the time is right. They can wait, but for now, I want you to myself.” He squeezed her hand. 

She raised her eyebrow, “If you say so.”

“Where are we going? I am not dressed to visit a palace and I’m starving.” 

“Then lucky for you, I have all of those things covered.”

Just then they pull into the underground garage of a modern residential building situated on a hill. There are armed guards outside and inside the garage. The driver opens the door for Liam, and he comes around to open the door for Karis. The moment she is on her feet Liam pins her against the side of the vehicle, his lips taking hers in a deep, desperate, longing kiss. She grabbed him by the collar. Her knees buckled and when he finally pulled away they were both breathless. Her eyes widened as she wiped her mouth. 

“What has gotten into you?” She smirked, still catching her breath.

“Welcome to Cordonia,” his deep voice rumbled in her ear. He smiled before taking her hand and leading her past the armed guard who stood at attention, into an elevator. He scanned his thumbprint before pressing a button for the penthouse. Bastien had gone ahead of the couple to apparently make sure it was clear. The elevator beeped and the doors slide open to reveal a modern open concept floor plan with floor to ceiling windows. 

“It’s my apartment. Make yourself at home.” 

Liam leads her through a large bedroom into the closet which is the size of her whole apartment back home. There are mostly men’s clothes and one section with an assortment of women’s clothing.

“Adonis, whose clothes are these?”

“Your’s. Everything here was selected specifically for you. It’s all in your size. You will have several options for the entire weekend. I know that you must be tired after the flight. You will find a basket in the shower with your pear-berry shower gel, scrub, and body butter. There is another basket on the counter top with a new tooth brush and anything else you might need. If there is anything else, please don’t hesitate to ask. Meet me out on the terrace.”

She stands there as tears threaten to spill from her eyes. He snakes his arms around her waist pulling her close. Her back is firmly against his chest. He gently kisses her on the sensitive skin of her neck. 

“Hey, whoa, please don’t cry. I promise to feed you after you shower,” he whispers in her ear. She smiles instead turning to gently slap him on the arm.

“You did all this for me?”

“Of course, I want to give you the world.”

“I don’t need the world, Adonis. I just need you.”

She winds her arms around his neck clasping her hands together. She kisses his lips sweetly. “Come shower with me,” she says against his lips. 

He smiles nervously, “Karis, I–”

She pouts, interrupting, “You don’t want to?”

He chuckles, “I absolutely want to. But it’s not a good idea. Our food will be cold and we have some things that are very important for us to discuss. But, I promise after, we can take as many showers as you want. There’s a tub in there too.”  

“Ok, I’ll be quick.”

He kisses her on the cheek and leaves her to get dressed. When she stepped out of the shower she moisturized and wrapped a towel around her body heading back into the closet. She finds an assortment of lingerie in a gift bag wrapped in tissue paper. She is impressed. There are at least a dozen sets in different styles and colors. She decided on a pair of black lacy panties, a black bra, black shorts and a white blazer. She finished the look with some black and white pumps. She finger combed her hair and put on some lipgloss and headed out to meet Liam. 

Liam stands to receive her and his jaw drops eliciting a blush from Karis. She bites her lip as he pulls out her chair. 

“Karis you look, wow–”

“Thank you. Please, sit down. While I am hungry, I am more eager to chat about what you wanted to discuss.”

He motions for the chef to bring their dinner. When the entrees are uncovered Karis swoons.

“Adonis! Shrimp and grits? You remembered?” Hot tears spill from her eyes. 

“Of course I did. It was the very first meal we ever shared. He reaches across the table and wipes her tears with his thumb.” 

“I’ll get to it. I believe that it will give you a clearer picture of why I had to alter our plans this weekend.”

She starts to eat. “I’m listening.” 

“First, as you know my father is ill. He has spent a great deal of time in the hospital. In turn,  I have had to assume a great deal of his day to day duties. Because of his continued absences, the council had a meeting and has officially removed him as reigning monarch of Cordonia. It has essentially ascended me to the throne as new king of Cordonia. It will be official the night of my coronation. Because of the timeline my coronation has been moved up and the traditional social season won’t happen. I have to choose a fiance by my coronation. You are who I choose. You will always be my choice. Baby, my queen, I need you here with me, by my side.”

Her breath catches at his words. He is going to be the actual king of this beautiful country and he wants her of all people to be his queen.

”I want to be by your side, Adonis. I just have to figure out how to do that without compromising who I am.”

“I’m holding on to that. It’s not a no. I know that you hadn’t made up your mind. But if you decide that this is what you want we would move forward with your citizenship. I know we talked about you needing a house to sponsor you. There will be three houses Domvallier, Ramsford, and Cormery Isle essentially courting you for the opportunity to sponsor you, starting with a welcome ball tomorrow night in the duchy of Domvallier, a brunch on Saturday at Cormery Isle and Saturday night there will be a Beaumont bash.”

Overwhelmed, Karis attempts to change the subject. “Adonis, what about you? You have been talking about me this whole time. You have been working hard, doing your father’s job, you look like you haven’t slept, and planning this weekend for me? Let me just take tonight to take care of you.” 

“I’m listening.” 

She stands moving around the table and kisses him sweetly on his lips before pouring apple juice into his glass. She takes his fork, feeding him forks full of food while he runs his hand up and down her soft bare leg. She noticed the swell in his pants and smirks and shakes her head. 

He smiles seductively. “I have to say that I am thoroughly enjoying being fed by my woman. How else pray tell are you going to take care of me?”

She picks up his glass and places it in his hand. “Drink your apple juice.” 

She grabbed the ceramic dish of apple preserves from the table and saunters back into the apartment, looking over her shoulder at him with hooded eyes.

He stands gulping his apple juice down quickly and followed her inside. She leads him to the bedroom. She grabs his hand and motions for him to sit. 

“I’ll be right back.” She goes into the bathroom and starts a bath, lighting the aromatherapy candles to set the mood. 

She moves back into the bedroom and kneels at Liam’s feet. His expression is unreadable. She unties his shoes and removes them, then his socks rolling them and place them neatly inside his shoe. She stands and bends at the waist making sure he gets a clear view of her cleavage as she removes his cufflinks and begins unbuttoning his shirt. She ran her fingers lightly down his chest before unbuckling his belt and pushing his trousers and boxer briefs to the floor. 

“Karis–”

“Shhhhh,” she interrupts, placing one finger on his lips.

She takes his hand leading him to the bathtub. She turns off the water and invites him to get in. 

“Are you joining me?” he asks. 

She winks and bites her lip, “No, this is about you. Not me.”

She soaks a towel and lathers it up and begins to bathe him. He relaxes under her touch allowing her to take care of him for a change. He was sure that as she toweled his body they would connect. She instructs him to lay across the bed where she begins a full body massage starting with his feet. While she rubs, he groans.

“Tell me, if you had your way, what would this weekend look like?”

She moves to the other foot kneading it with her hands before moving to his calves. His eyes were shut, and a smile crept slowly across his face. Clearly he was enjoying this pampering from the woman he loved.

“In a perfect world, I’d be able to convince you to move here with me when you leave Paris. There are so many reasons that it would be ideal.” 

She takes more oil in her hands and starts to stroke his thighs. 

“I’m listening,” she says. But touching his body the way that she is, backfires and it is turning her on just as much as it seems to be turning him on. She squeezed her thighs together trying to hold off the white hot passion pooling in between them. 

“I spoke with the dean of admissions at Cordonia U and you could still graduate by December if you did your last semester here. It’s a great program and it would be an asset, seeing how you are interested in international law.”

“I’m not convinced, but I’ll consider it,” she said as she straddled him and rubbed up and down his abs and pecs. 

His hands move to her waist, “Karis, I really want to talk more, but I can’t concentrate with you being this close to me, touching me like this,” he growls as his hand slowly starts roaming up her side. She moves his hands and rolls off of him. 

“I didn’t tell you to touch me your highness,” she smiled. 

“Please.”

“Hands behind your head.” she said in a quiet voice. 

He complied. She straddles him again and rubs oil on to his bald head as she kisses him. Their tongues tangle for a few moments before Karis moves down to nip as his neck and shoulders. 

“Mmmmmmm, angel.”

She takes some of the apple preserves leaving a trail of it down his torso. She then takes her tongue swirling it around his nipple, before she places hot open mouth kisses down his torso licking the apple preserves. His length is so stiff he looks like a sundial. She bites her lips, her eyes dancing. 

“See something you like my queen?”

“Oh, you have no idea…”

She crooks her finger beckoning him closer. He grinned as he rose from the bed. She backed him into the wall, hands gripping his thighs. He goes to tangle his hands in her hair. 

“Hands behind your head, Adonis. Let me take care of you.” He huffs, but complies. She takes her hand and with her thumb smears the bead of pre cum over his tip. She licks him from base to tip before taking the head in her mouth. Liam’s head falls back in ecstasy. She twirls her tongue around the tip while pumping the shaft with her hand. As she bobs on his length taking more and more with each movement. 

“God, you’re an angel. Your mouth is heaven, my queen.” 

She looks up at him and leans in making him completely disappear into her mouth. She can feel him throb and twitch and knows he won’t last long. She doubled her effort as she massaged his balls. It was enough to send him over the edge, and he exploded in her mouth. She stood licking the spillage from her lips and then swallowing while gazing into Liam’s eyes. He collapses on the bed.  

“That was insane.”

She blushes, “well I am clearly crazy over you.” 

He laughs.

“I know, that was cheesy.” She pops the button on her blazer letting it fall off her shoulder. 

His breath visibly catches in his throat. “Karis you’re resplendent.”

She shimmies out of her shorts and panties. 

“Keep the heels on.” Liam says as he sits up on the edge of the bed. 

Karis slowly sways her hips over to Liam straddling his lap taking his lips in a hungry kiss. His strong arms wrapped around her, pulling her in close, his bare chest against hers. He breaks the kiss.

“I need to taste you.” he says in a deep baritone voice that vibrates her chest. 

She pushes him back onto the bed and straddles his face steadying herself with her palms on his chest. His large hands palm her backside guiding her as she rolls her hips on his tongue. 

“So wet and sweet,” his muffled words send electric pleasure currents through her body as he continues to use his tongue with precision. He inserts a crooked finger in search of her g-spot. He alternates from licking to sucking her swollen clit as she moans his name. “Oh, Adonis!!!”

“Let me hear you, my queen.”

His words are enough to make her come undone. Her thighs clench on his head and he continues to flick his tongue as she creams in his mouth. 

He flips her over, pinning her ankles above her head. “Your legs go on for days in these heels,” he says. Her only response was a smile as she was still catching her breath. Her sensitive clit still throbbing, Liam plunges easily deep inside of her tight center and she howls. 

“How does it feel?” he asks as their bodies slap together, sounding like a slow clap at first.

“Adonis, you are incredible, but I want to be on top.”

He gathers her in his arms and flips her on top without breaking their connection, “as my queen wishes.”

He takes her breast in his mouth as she plunges down on his length. Her pace picks up and he lets out a primal roar meeting her rhythm. “Yes, my king! Give it to me.”

He rolled his hips and tugged her hair. Her body spasmed and tears flowed from her eyes. Watching her orgasm is one of the most beautiful things he has ever seen. The combination of her moans, the grind of her hips and the clinching of her center around his length was enough for him to join her over the edge. He pulls her onto his chest and just as they both begin to fall into an easy slumber, there is a knock on the door. Liam slips out of bed and into his boxers before cracking the door. 

“Sir, it’s your father. I need you to come with me.”

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