#i tend not to name babies i auction because i really like to see what other people name them

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

Morbid Fascination

Pairing: Jennifer Jareau x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.5k

Warnings: fluff

Summary: JJ and the team continue to look for the unsub that keeps slipping from their grasp while you get ready for the housewarming party you’re throwing to celebrate living with JJ. The party is a success, but becomes a bit too interested in the bleeding painting you got at Leo’s art gallery. 

There’s Beauty in Tragedy Masterlist

Square Filled: hotch for @anyfandomgoesbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are greatly appreciated <3

x

“I don’t know why you’re asking me this. You know I’m not into that stuff. You choose. We’ll be fine with whatever you put out,” JJ says as she gets dressed for work.

“Baby, it’s not just me. You’re in this with me, too. I don’t want to put out something that they don’t like.”

“Fine. Finger foods. You okay with that?”

“Baby, finger foods won’t go over well with people from my world.”

“See? This is why I tend to stay out of the decision-making. It’s a housewarming party. Just make good food and I don’t think they’d care. I trust you.”

You and JJ walked about having a housewarming party once she was all moved in, and the last box is now unpacked. All that’s left to do is invite people and make a menu for the guests. The doorbell rings and JJ leaves the room with her morning coffee in hand. She opens the door to a delivery man with a huge package--it must be a painting due to its size.

“I have a package for Y/N.”

“That’s me,” you smile and walk over to him. You sign his device and bring the painting inside. “Thank you.”

“What is it?”

“When I was looking for a gift for you, I thought of my art friend, Leo. He’s very good at finding auctions, and he owns an upscale art gallery where I saw this painting there.” You rip the wrapping paper off. “I don’t know. I like it.”

“Wow.” She tilts her head to the side as she takes in the bleeding painting. You call it that because the paint looks like it’s bleeding with the way it’s dripping. “That’s… different.”

“What, you don’t like it?”

“Is that paint?” she asks and looks closer.

“Of course, it is. Paint can do anything these days.”

“How much did you pay for it?” she asks and takes a sip of her coffee.

“Two-point-five million,” you mumble.

JJ gasps and chokes on her coffee, careful not to spill any of it on her new shirt. “For that? I can do that!”

“I like it,” you shrug.

“Where are you going to put it?”

“The empty wall in the living room unless you don’t want it there.”

“Put it where you want,” she chuckles. “I’d advise you not to spend your money on stuff like this but I bet you’ll make that back in a few weeks.”

“Yeah,” you nod in agreement. You slide the painting into the living room to put up later and turn to her. “So, about that menu.”

She laughs. “My friends will like anything. Spencer eats anything, Derek eats anything, Emily is allergic to shellfish, Penelope loves any kind of meat, and Rossi loves bourbon and whiskey. I’m not sure what Hotch likes, but I’m sure he’ll adapt.”

“Meat but no shellfish. I can work with that.”

She walks into the kitchen to pour herself another cup of coffee, this time in a thermos for work.

“Who are you inviting?”

“Just some friends in the business and a few celebrities I’ve done business with. Ones I’m close with, anyway.”

“Like who?”

“Blake Lively and Ryan Reynolds which means Taylor Swift might also show. Scarlett Johansson, Robert Downy Jr., Jennifer Lawrence, George Clooney, and Ben Affleck. To name a few.”

“Okay.” JJ is starstruck by those names but tries to play it cool. “Wow, why am I suddenly so nervous?”

“They’re sweethearts. Really good people. You’ll love them.”

“Okay, I have to get to work. Try not to spend all your money in one place.” She kisses you on her way out. “I love you!”

“I love you, too!”

JJ gets to work thirty minutes later and meets everyone in the briefing room.

“Just so you know, Y/N and I are throwing a housewarming party, and you’re all invited. I already told her no shellfish,” she winks at Emily.

“I’ll be there,” she smiles.

“Oh, and there may or may not be some celebrities there. Apparently, she’s close to a few of them.”

“Let’s get started,” Hotch says. “Penelope, what’s the update?”

“Well, we’re still no closer to finding the sick bastard. However, I just got word right before you walked in that two women who were out jogging in a residential neighborhood went missing. Their pictures are already circling through the news.”

“The ME reports on the other victims have come in,” Spencer says. “According to her, the victims were dead when they were drained of blood, and she found high doses of anesthesia in their systems.”

“That could mean the unsub feels remorse for his victims,” Derek says. “He doesn’t want them feeling pain.”

“Maybe. If he’s using anesthesia, he has to be getting that from somewhere, right? I’m assuming it’s not easy making something like that.”

“Garcia, look into businesses where they sell anesthesia and equipment for blood draining.”

“I am on it.”

She gathers her things and leaves the briefing room.

“Prentiss, you and Morgan talk to the neighbors. Maybe someone might have seen something.” The two get up and leave. “Reid, you and Dave talk to their families and see if there is a connection to the other women.”

“I’ll compile a press conference to give out the profile when we’re ready,” JJ says.

She’s not a liaison anymore, but she’s the best person for the job. You decide to stay at home instead of going into the office, and you’re in the middle of hanging the painting in the living room when the show you’re watching is interrupted by an emergency broadcast. JJ’s face comes on screen, and you turn it up to hear what she has to say.

“The suspect we’re looking for is a caucasian male between the ages of thirty and fifty. He isn’t sociable and will often shy away from large crowds. If you’ve met this man, then he will come across as not confident even though he pretends to be. He’s skilled enough to talk his way out of trouble but the same will not go for informal conversations. Please, if you think you know or know of a man like this, please call the FBI with the number at the bottom of your screen. We encourage those not to travel alone and not at night. Thank you.”

No wonder JJ is stressed. She’s been on this case for weeks and this man is somehow avoiding the FBI like the plague.

You hope this party will take some stress off her shoulders.

With the menu already figured out, you hired a chef to create it. Before you know it, there is a beautiful array of foods laid out on two tables in the living room. This isn’t a formal party so there are no servers to bring the trays around. Despite the elegant look of your house, you want this to be as chill as possible.

There are already a few people from different jeweler businesses already here, and the next people to show up are JJ’s entire team.

“Hi, welcome in. Alcohol is in the kitchen. Food is in the living room. Mingle and enjoy!” Hotch is the last one in, and you give him a warm smile. “JJ didn’t tell me what you liked to eat, so I had to guess. I hope you like what I have.”

“I’m sure I will. You have a very nice home.”

“Thank you.”

Not every celebrity that you invited showed up, but enough on the list was able to make it.

“Oh, Y/N, Rossi was asking about the layout of the house,” JJ says and brings Rossi over to you.

“I have an architect that I work with. He’s designed all four of my homes and all of my businesses. Are you looking to build a house?”

“I might be.”

“Where is he?” You look around the room and spot Randy talking with his wife. “Ah, Randy! Come here!” He breaks away from her and joins your group. “Randy, this is Rossi from the FBI. Rossi, Randy Miller.” They get to talking and you notice JJ by the food table. “Excuse me.”

“Hey,” JJ says when you approach her. “Sorry I didn’t do much to help put this together.”

“It’s okay. I know you were busy. I saw your press conference earlier. I hope you catch the guy.”

“Me, too, but I don’t want to talk about work here.” You understand. “Oh, my God, is that Julia Roberts? I’ll be right back.”

You can’t help but smile at her amusement. Spencer stands in front of the painting you bought and tilts his head in fascination.

“Do you like it?”

“What kind of painting is this? What paint was used?”

“I’m not sure. I’m not an expert. Why?”

“There’s something about this painting…”

“What?”

“I don’t know. Where did you get it from?”

“Leo’s art gallery. He said the artist is anonymous so I’m not sure who painted it. I like it, though. I like the way the paint drips down.”

“Hmm, interesting,” Spencer mutters, unable to look away.

x

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[captainsourwolf]

I had an email about a new Netflix movie:

And my brain immediately went the rhinky route.

Like, Rhett would be the wealthy charmer that’s been eyeballing the Neal farm (maybe a vineyard??) farther up north, around San Fran, and all its potential to make him even wealthier.

Link would be the hardworking farmer (vineyard grape picking person?? wine maker?? idk) that’s trying his best to keep the place afloat after his grandpa passes and his nana moves back to NC to live with his mom. So he’s the one running things and struggling with the upkeep and holding onto employees but he’s making it work.

Rhett first heard about the Neal vineyard after one of his potential clients brought him a bottle of their finest for dinner. He hears all about the eldest Neal getting sick and passing suddenly a few months ago and his one and only grandson—an engineer from LA—taking over. The story piques his interest because wine that good has got to be a big money maker. So he gets more info out of his client, finds out the place can’t hold down any employees since Neal passed, and he’s immediately sure of what he has to do to get the inside scoop to try and take the place.

Link sees an application for a fellow North Carolina man with experience in working on a farm and calls him right away. Rhett’s his name. He comes in for an interview and Link hires him on the spot. He’s also enamored right away the guy. Tall, legs for days, buff enough to crush Link if he wanted, kind eyes, and wild unkempt curls. He doesn’t flush when Rhett shakes his hand.

Rhett is all confidence in the interview, hiding what he really does and playing up his resume. The guy, Link, hires him on the spot. And Rhett doesn’t stare a little too long at the lock of salt n pepper hair hanging in his face, or the too blue eyes and the glasses and the broad shoulders and the tired but beautiful smile.

So Rhett starts working within the week. He moves into the house used for the workers with his minimal possessions. He isn’t looking forward to actually having to do all this hard work, but anything for his next big thing. He’s all about the money and the finer things in life after all. He fumbles through his first few days, hardly sees Link, but when he does he looks a little longer than he should.

The guy is attractive. More than he has any right to be for a struggling vineyard owner. He works in his office most days, and some days he’s out in the field with what few employees are left. In the fields he sweats under the glare of the sun, so much so his shirt clings to every dip and muscle. Rhett has to look away before he gets caught or finds himself in a situation. He can’t be attracted to the person he’s trying to sneakily buy out.

And Link, though he spends most of his days in the office, doesn’t miss Rhett when they’re in the field together or in the barn or wherever the man’s job for the day takes him. He doesn’t miss the way his biceps bulge when he’s lifting barrels of grapes onto the golf cart, and he doesn’t miss the way he shakes his hair out of his face when he’s hot, and he doesn’t miss the way the strip of tan skin between his jeans and shirt seems to stretch on for miles.

After a couple of weeks, Link finds himself alone in the office, in the entire house. He didn’t sign up for this, he didn’t sign up for a huge house and a vineyard and employees and just—the whole package. He’s not cut out for this life. If he could sell without losing everything he would. But his grandpa left it all for him to tend to and his nana couldn’t bear to be here anymore so he makes do. And it’s as he’s in the office alone that he hears a knock.

Rhett finds him. In the low lamplight, Link’s face is cast in shadow but his blue eyes and messy hair and tan skin still draw Rhett in. He swallows audibly and reminds himself he isn’t here for this and so he knocks to get Link’s attention. He doesn’t really remember what he was coming to talk to him about. He gets invited in and he sits.

They talk. About whatever. It’s stiff and awkward at first but after Link pours them a glass of their own wine, they loosen up. Share things. Both from North Carolina—Buies Creek, how bout that!—and both went to NC State. Went to the same schools, the same river, met up with their friends at the same spot in the same graveyard, how did they possibly miss each other so much? Rhett didn’t move there till third grade, Link was hiding in the bathroom from the John Carson’s every day and didn’t notice the new boy. Link was the shy and awkward kid, got called names so he made himself as small as possible, only had his mom and his grandparents and his one friend. And now here they are. Rhett a wealthy businessman and Link an unhappy engineer with a vineyard he was forced into.

Talking leads to quiet contemplation over another glass of wine. Third glass? Maybe. Rhett stares at Link, at the way his long fingers delicately hold the bottom of the glass, at the way his eyes droop the more he drinks, how blue they are in the lamplight. And Link watches Rhett. Watches the way his eyes crinkle when he laughs, the way this one lone curl frames his ear, the way his neck flushes down his chest and into the unbuttoned V of his plaid shirt. He has to take another drink and doesn’t notice the way Rhett is gulping down the last of his, too.

Link starts talking about the vineyard and wanting to sell if it weren’t for the fact he’d lose everything. Rhett’s suddenly reminded of why he’s here and he clears his throat, shifts awkwardly in his chair, finally stands to leave. But a hand closes around his wrist across the desk and he sees Link standing, too, firm grip holding Rhett in place and blue of his eyes making him freeze.

Maybe it’s the wine, maybe it’s the rush of guilt, maybe it’s the time of night and the quiet of the office, but Link lets him go and Rhett meets him halfway and pins him against the edge. Something clatters to the floor as Link bumps into the desk and Rhett gets two big hands under his thighs to hoist him into the surface. It’s most definitely a mistake moving forward but Rhett can’t help it and neither can Link. Rhett’s hand are huge and warm and feel good around his hips, and the noises Link makes are sweet and filthy all at once and make heat curl in Rhett’s belly.

Doesn’t take much to get each other off. Link laid out across the desk while Rhett plants kisses and bites along his neck and throat and all over his torso and jerks his cock in tight strokes that have him moaning too loud. He cums first with a gasp and a moan and spills over Rhett’s fist hot and fast. Then he’s slipping off the desk much smoother than someone three glasses of wine and post orgasm should be able to manage. He gets on his knees and sucks Rhett off so good Rhett sees stars and hunches over palms flat on the desk when he groans and cums down Link’s throat. Rhett cleans them both up and they say goodnight, awkward and fumbling, still a little tipsy.

After that it’s awkward baby steps around each other. Link knowing he’s crossed a line with an employee and Rhett knowing he’s about to take everything out from under Link, and both knowing they want more. For a few days they only speak in employee/employer terms. Of course it breaks by the weekend and Link finds Rhett at the barn cleaning up from the day and can’t help but crowd him against the barrels to jerk him off (and Rhett can’t help but make some joke about the reason the wine is so good is because it has the secret ingredient.)

It becomes a thing. They seek each other out often. Mostly to screw around, sometimes to drink, sometimes to talk, and always to just be near each other. Rhett is slowly feeling guiltier and guiltier about why he’s here, why he’s lying to Link, his purpose for doing this in the first place. And Link is slowly realizing just how much he likes Rhett. How much he’d give up to be with Rhett. So they seek each other out, they fuck, they talk, they kiss, they work.

Of course nothing good can last. Link finds out about Rhett, who he really is, what he’s doing here. And it breaks him. Here he is, wishing he could sell, could be out from under this vineyard, falling for someone, and it’s all just been a lie. A big fat lie! He gets mad, he breaks a few things, he finds Rhett and confronts him, tells him he knows everything. Tells him he knows now he was just getting close to Link to sweep the rug out from under him and get richer quick before running off back to his cushy life in LA.

Rhett argues. They both argue. It’s explosive and Link leaves. When he comes back the next day Rhett is gone. All his things are gone and just like that, after just a few weeks, Link’s left feeling emptier than he did the day his grandpa died.

Time passes. Rhett finds other avenues to make money in LA. Doesn’t flinch when, three months after he leaves, he sees something about the Neal family vineyard going up for auction. The grandson finally caved and sold to the highest bidder, took the money, and left everything except his most prized possessions. Rhett ignores it and moves on despite the ache in his chest seeing the hollow look on Link’s face in the picture, his hand clasped in another’s as he makes the deal. He did this to Link, he supposes.

One day a bottle of wine shows up on his desk. It’s got the signature Neal family vineyard label, the year, and a special label advertising the secret ingredient. And then there’s Link. He looks defeated and sad. But he smiles when he sees Rhett and shrugs, gesturing to the offering.

They make up over that bottle of wine, Rhett tells him the truth about everything, Link forgives him because in the end he didn’t want the vineyard anymore anyway. He made a pretty penny selling in an auction, didn’t lose as much as he thought he would, and now he’s got enough to do what he wants for awhile. They make up some more when Rhett lays Link out across the couch in his office and does what he tried to convince himself he wasn’t missing all these months.

Eventually things even out. Link doesn’t sting whenever he sees something about his former family business and Rhett stops feeling so guilty. Everything works out in the end.

[smol-and-grumpy]

Something Just Like This - CH32

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Dean Winchester, mobster boss. He’s a little cocky, a lot ruthless and more often than not, short tempered. But he’s also, Dean Winchester, a war veteran and hero who suffers under a shit ton of PTS. He met her in a bar and thinks it’s fate that brought her to him. Little does he know why she’s really here.

Warnings: Just a sweet, fluffy and NSFW chapter

WC: 3430

A/N: You get two chapters from me today. Please read this one first. Don’t spoil it for yourself! This chapter is just a little fluff and smut but there's angst in there as well. If you read carefully (not the smut part), you'll see the angst in there.

SERIES MASTERLIST

Life’s pretty much back to normal fourteen days after. The scar on Dean’s face is almost invisible. Y/N was glad because every time she looked at the scar she had that cloud over her face and Dean knows that she still blames herself for it. 

She’s told him countless times that if it wasn’t for her, Ketch wouldn’t have even found out who Dean was and wouldn’t have shown up and tried to hand him over to the Feds.

Although she doesn’t say it, but Dean takes a wild guess that Ketch was still working for the MI6 and had probably been sent here to dig up some dirt. Of course Ash couldn’t find any information on him. It’s like that dude never existed and it’s weird, like, really weird. Something feels off, but Dean can’t quite put a finger on it. 

But now he doesn’t have to. Ketch is off the radar and there’s no interference since. So, actually, life’s pretty good right now. As good as it can be.

*

Today’s their four months anniversary. They never celebrated actually because they could never agree on a date. They don’t really know when it all started, the lines blur together. For Dean, though, it has all started when he walked into the bar that fateful night. And that’s the date he goes by whether she likes it or not.

He wakes before her and looks over, she’s still sleeping, both of her arms high up above her head, the blanket only covers her to her navel, one leg outside of it. Her lips are slightly parted, her hair is tied into a bun but it’s all messy. Her tits are on display too, because she became accustomed to sleep in only her panties and Dean likes it as much as he hates it because he can barely hold himself back from touching her.

It’s easy, Dean thinks, so easy to snuggle close and trailing the tip of his nose against her warm cheeks. Easy to tickle her skin with the fluff of his scruff. 

She stirs, groans a little.

Dean chuckles at that, one of his hands strokes her stomach under the cover, works its way up to cup her tit.

There’s another stir and she gobbles, turning her head to the side but not quite opening her eyes. He knows she’s awake. She must be. 

His fingers twist at her nipple, rolls it between them and his tongue starts to flicker against the other nipple, they both begin to harden. 

She groans again and Dean grins, sucks in her tits and pulls with his teeth.

“Dean!” Y/N yelps up.

There it is. 

He pops the tit out of his mouth, takes the opportunity and keeps her hands pinned above her head with both of his hands as he climbs on top of her.

“Happy anniversary.” He says, noses along her nose and kisses her.

“Anniversary of what?” She mumbles against his lips.

“Our meeting.” He answers, places kisses down her chin and throat, feels her arch her back, pressing her body closer to his. She’s always so fucking responsive. 

Dean lets go, though, rolls back to his side and opens his bedside drawer to take out a card, before rolling himself back and handing it to her.

She’s still yawning and rubs at her eyes with her hands and then she looks at the card, frowning. “I didn’t get anything for you.” She takes it anyway and opens the envelope.

“Oh, don’t worry. You’ll give me something.” He winks and it’s cocky he knows because she’s rolling her eyes. 

Y/N takes out the card and he watches her face. It goes from frowning to a smile and Dean’s heart skips.

The front of the card reads:

I CAN’T BELIEVE HOW MUCH I’M NOT SICK OF YOU!

And on the inside, he wrote:

YOU’RE STILL DEFINITELY THE BEST FUCKING DECISION I’VE EVER MADE  XX  D.

She laughs heartily and Dean hugs her, pulls her close and kisses her temple.

“Thank you.” She kisses his cheek, “Now I feel bad for not knowing what today is.” She says with a pout.

Dean lets her bury her face in the crook of his neck. “Oh I have an idea what you could do.”

“What?” She mumbles against his skin, and he knows that she expects him to say something nasty.

“You remember the auction?”

“Oh no…”

He laughs, “Oh, yes!” And then he adds, “First thing’s first. We’re taking a morning bath.”

It’s weird, Dean thinks. He’s never ever taken a bath before she came along. He’s not even sure if he ever used the bathtub except for the times he fell asleep in it drunk as a lord. Since he asked her to take a bath with him the first time, it became their escape, their sanctuary. Taking baths with her seems to stop time, stretching out the mornings or nights, pushing back obligations. It feels like it’s just them and Dean likes that. Likes the comfort of being naked with her in the tub. Not only the sexual aspect but also the intimacy it provides. He can’t imagine taking a bath with someone else and that should say something.

  Y/N’s in the bathroom, putting on finishing touches. Dean had slipped out of the room after their bath and is now waiting for her. She doesn’t bother with make up or anything really, just a hydration cream but she did let her hair loose and tried to curl them but of course it’s a futile attempt. They can never stay the way they should. It’s frustrating, really.

She walks out, braces one hand on the door frame. Dean’s grinning at her from the bed. He has his head propped up on his hands, the blanket covers his legs to his navel. He looks delicious, it’s not fair. 

“This is ridiculous.” She sighs and Dean raises an eyebrow because he doesn’t agree with her thinking his idea is ridiculous, obviously.

Dean wanted her to wear one of his dress shirts so he fishes out the one he wore yesterday from the hamper. He doesn’t want her to wear a new one apparently because it smells of him and he likes that. He also requested she wears a garter belt and stockings. And yes, it’s ridiculous because first of all, they won’t be needing clothes for what they’re about to do anyway, and second of all, the shirt’s too big and she’s drowning in it. She can’t really believe that she oozes with sexappeal while wearing that, honestly.

“It’s not.” Dean swallows and he looks at her like he could eat her alive. “Come here.” 

She pouts a little, climbs on the bed and crawls up to him on all fours. Her knees are on either side of him and she hovers above him.

“You look so fucking sexy in my shirt.” He growls, hooks his finger into the open collar and pulls her close for a kiss. “You know why I want you to wear it?”

“So I would smell like you?”

“Yeah,” Dean smiles, “Because you’re mine and I’m keeping you for as long as you’ll let me.”

“And if I don’t wanna be yours anymore?” 

She can feel him tensing underneath her. He looks at her, his eyes are sincere, “Then I will respect your decision even though it’ll probably kill me.”

He kisses her again then, tries to not think about it and she pours everything into the kiss, nibbles at his bottom lips, sucks in his tongue and makes him moan into her open mouth. 

Dean turns them around, so that he’s on top and lowers his face, kisses her like he means it, like he’s begging her to stay and let him keep her with every touch of their lips.

His hands skim over her body, lips trailing over her chin, down her throat. He sucks at her pulse point, makes her close her eyes and moan his name. 

She writhes when he uses his teeth, bites a mark and sucks at the skin, draws blood to the surface. “You’re mine,” He says with her flesh between his teeth and she nods, because she is. She really, truly is, and she wants him to keep her, wants it so much even if she knows that it’s wishful thinking on her part.

He works his way down, unbuttons the shirt with skilled fingers, cups both her tits in his hands and squeezes them together. His tongue flickers over her nipples, one after another, sucks and bites at them, and she scrambles for purchase at the top of his back, hands finding his head, fists in his hair. “Prettiest tits, fuck,” He curses, seals his lips around the peak, lets it out again with a pop and she feels the tip of his hard cock brushing at her thighs, leaving a wet trail as his face works its way further down.

His teeth nibbles at her stomach, tongue dipping down into her navel, and then he’s in between her thighs, both of his hands fold her legs up by the back of her knees. 

“I thought I should tend to your needs and not the other way around.” She says, reminding him that he bid on the PA and not the other way around.

Dean chuckles, hot air breathes against her bare and wet cunt. “Oh, baby, that is my need.”

He swipes his tongue through her fold, parting her lips, the tip of his tongue tickling at her clit as his thumbs hold her open. 

“As sweet as ever,” He blows warm air against her wet pussy, before he dives in again, eats her out, and hums with pleasure. 

Y/N writhes above him and he has to hold her still. 

While Dean licks at her like she’s the best fucking lollipop, he takes his hand from the back of her legs and skims them across the back of her thighs until his fingers dip into the slick at the entrance of her pussy. 

He makes space for his fingers inside of her, moves his mouth up until he’s only sucking her clit while he drives two of his fingers inside. Dean curves them right, fucks into her slow and deep.

She keens, pushes her hips up, grinds her cunt against his mouth. Her hands find his hair, fists at them, driving her nail into his scalp. She’s so close already, and is panting hard. 

Dean knows of course and pauses to chuckle before he looks up to her. Their eyes meet and then he winks before pushing another finger in alongside the two already inside. 

“Dean!” Y/N yelps up, and then Dean stop sucking at her clit and she knows that he abandons eating her out in favor of making her squirt because he’s fucking her roughly, with three fingers. 

He moves up keep one of her legs wrap around his body as he leans forward and down, the fingers that’s not fucking her twists at her nipple before they move to claw around her throat.

She fists the sheets before one hand flies to the hand that’s choking her. Dean kisses her, rough and hard. 

The sloshing sound that’s coming out of her wet pussy makes her blush. 

“Shit,” She sounds broken, barely audible.

Dean lays his forehead against hers, “Come baby, come for me,”

And that’s it, that’s really all it takes for her stomach to cramp up, all it takes for her legs to shake, her eyes to cross and her eyelids to flutter as she comes with a cry. The sloshing sound is still there as he fucks her lazily before he takes it out of her and rubs at her sensitive clit. 

She yelps at his touch but then laughs and he presses his lips to hers after whispering, “Good girl.” 

He kisses her, hard, hungry and fucking dirty. 

“Dean,” She whines, her hands on his shoulder, squeezing and clawing.

He kisses her nose, her lips, her jaw, whispering, “I got you, baby.” Before moving down and spreading her legs, almost folding her in half again. 

Dean rubs his shaft along her pussy lips, coats it in her slick and oh god, it feels so good already but it’s not enough. Not nearly enough. 

“What do you want?”

“Your cock in me. Now.” Y/N has learned to tell what she wants and doesn’t shy away anymore.

He chuckles but is still stalling, still teasing her.

“Please, daddy?”

“Fuck, baby,” Dean almost lost his cool, almost slips in without meaning to. Because he’s a little shit like that, she knows. Likes to tease her as much as she likes to tease him. “Take it, put it where you want me.”

She grins, her hand reaches down, strokes him a couple of times before she places the head of his cock to her entrance and Dean pushes in, going deeper with every move of his hips.

They groan out at the same time. He fills her so good, goes in deep, knows that she likes it that way.

His hands now on her calves, pushing them up high as he fucks her faster. “Is that okay?” He asks like he still needs to make sure.

“Yeah,” Y/N swallows, pinching her nipple with one hand as the other one goes down to play with herself.

When she comes again on his cock, her pussy pushes him out and Dean hurriedly slips right back in, fucks her faster, slips out two more times and he has to chuckle at that, “Your pussy’s too damn wet baby. Come on, on all fours.”

He moves from the bed, makes room for her to take off the shirt and positions herself on all fours in front of the mirror. She sees him through the mirror, sees him climb back to the bed, sees him bend his head down, sucks and licks at her for a short moment while he fists his own cock as he slaps the free hand down on her ass cheek, rests it there and squeezes her flesh. 

Dean strokes himself a couple more times, spanks her twice more before he places his dick to her entrance. “Back up, baby.” He says and waits for her to fuck back into him.

And of course she does, at this point she’s too desperate not to. She lowers her body onto her elbows and moves her hips, fucking herself back onto his cock and after a while, Dean meets her halfway. “So good, baby. Such a good girl fucking yourself on my cock. Fuck, wish you could see how good you look from up here.”

His hands are now firm on her ass, spanks her once more, the sting makes her moan out loud.

“Harder.” She pants.

“Harder?”

“Yeah, spank me harder.”

“Christ,” Dean is panting as he brings his hand down on her ass, hard, loud. It hurts so good. “So fucking sexy when you ask for what you want.”

“Fuck,” She breathes out, her eyes look to the mirror, sees him grip at the flesh on her lower back, squeezes it so hard she’s sure he’s going to leave bruises. “Fuck me harder, please.”

“You sure about that?” He asks because he’s already fucking her pretty hard and she knows that because it’s bordering on pain when his dick goes too deep but yes, she’s sure, she wants more. So much more.

“Yes, Dean, please.” Y/N’s aware that she sounds whiny and at this point, she can’t bring herself to care. 

“Okay,” He says, and then again, “Okay.”

She can see through the mirror that he repositions himself, bracing one leg up to the side so he has better balance. Both his hands skims up her back, fingertips bumping along her spine until he reaches her shoulder. One hand goes to her hair, pulling at them to keep her face trained on the mirror as he fucks her harder and so much faster. 

“Fuck, look at you. Taking my dick so fucking good. Good girl.” Dean’s almost out of breath, pistons his hips against her rear, the sound they make is lewd and loud, skin slapping against skin, obscene moans and groans fills the room. 

And she sees if, sees herself in the reflection, sees his hand in her hair, his leg standing out, braced out to the side. Sees the crease his stomach and groin makes when he moves, thinks it’s fucking hot. He always said that she turns him on so much but he has no idea how much he turns her on. How she could come from watching him fuck her alone. And just like that, like it’s the easiest thing in the world, she comes quiet but hard, her legs give out and she slumps down, her pussy’s gripping him tight so Dean’s coming down with her, pushes in deep once more.

“Shit, baby, that’s a fucking amazing orgasm.” He’s grinning as he fucks into her lazily, when the walls aren’t as tight anymore. 

When her walls are finally loose enough, he slips out, turns around to lie back on the bed, head props up on a pillow. “Come on, ride me.”

She’s still holding her pussy, covering it because it feels over-sensitive. “Oh my god Dean, I don’t know if I have the strength to be on top.”

“Trust me, I got you, baby.” He beckons her over with a gesture of his hands, and then he adds. “Besides, I’m barely holding myself together right now. I’m gonna burst soon.”

She gets up, walks up to the bed on her knees and then she straddles him. Her hands strokes him before he puts the head of his dick to her entrance and sits down on it. She’s so wet it slips right in. 

At first she sets the pace, circling and grinding on his cock while Dean’s hands are on her hips, helping her grind.

“You’re fucking amazing,” He says and looks up at her with adoration in his eyes while his arms go up to knead at her tits. “I’m close.”

He pulls her down then, wraps his arms around her middle and she’s on her knees, both on either side of his body. He fucks up into her, hard, fast and with wild abandon while he whispers in her ear, “You gonna come with me? Can you do that, huh baby?”

“I-I can try.” She says and lets herself fall. She’s sucking at his throat before Dean makes her look up and then he kisses her when she comes, following her over the edge right after. 

He’s still holding her as they come down from their high. His dick still lazily fucking her, the feel of wet cum in between them. 

“Fuck,” Dean breathes out and smiles when she holds herself up, looking down at him. “I think we need a shower.”

*

The day with her being his PA was filled with both of them walking around the house naked and Dean eats her out right at the kitchen counter when he wanted to prepare lunch. After he finally made lunch, he made her sit in his lap while they ate and slipped right in but didn't move. Made her sit there with his dick inside of her and every time she would wiggle her hips, he held her still and that, is pure torture.

Y/N sucks him later when he was asleep on the couch, woke him right up and made him come down her throat. 

It was good. Really good. Dean made it a challenge to see how many times he could make her come. She lost track after fourteen and she doesn’t think that he still has an overview of the score.

At the end of the day, they were exhausted and while they’re sitting around naked, eating leftover pizza, she’s still leaking cum all over. Dean jokes that his dick is swollen and raw so she can’t be expecting him to fuck her in the next couple of days but then he winks and he says that he’s going to eat her twice a day instead, she snorts out a laugh, the bite of pizza flying right out of her mouth. 

It’s easy with him, she thinks. Easy how they can fuck like animals but can chill and calm down together and joke around. Easy how they can draw strengths from one another. Easy how they know each other's boundaries. It’s easy to love him.

CH33

[skelebonecentral]

Hothouse Rose chapter 5

Getting in deeper here (finally something sensual)

(words under cut)

Joining the boys in the living room later that week, you find yourself looking once again at the pillow pile.

There’s a sunken area in the floor in front of the TV, filled with pillows, that most of your housemates tend to lie in when everyone’s in the same room. Well, most everyone. Sweet-pea and Whip rarely join. Still, they all lay around in the pillow pile while you and Sans end up on the sofa.

Papyrus can be found in the pile, too, but he exits to sit with you.

Today, though, Charm and Boa are staring at you as you take your usual seat.

“We saw you looking,” Boa teases. “We know you want to come in~”

“I don’t want to intrude.”

Charm scoffs, “You wouldn’t be! Cuddling is part of the fun of being friends! Join us!” He makes grabby hands at you, and Sugar is laughing. Spice looks a little worried, but he’s trying to smile.

“I’LL GO WITH YOU,” Papyrus offers, and before you know it, your reluctant okay has gotten you tossed into the pillows and snuggled up.

“Finally, sweetie, you don’t know how long we’ve been trying to figure out how to get you in here.” Charm has taken hold of your arm and squeezes softly. “We’re all very physical with our affection, you know, and it’s been agony to only have words with you up till now.”

“THAT’S WHAT I SAID BEFORE THEY GOT USED TO MY HUGS!” Papyrus nods, burying you deeper in as he sticks to your side, “THEY JUST ARE SO POLITE ABOUT PERSONAL SPACE. IT’S VERY CUTE, IF NOT A LITTLE HARD TO GET AROUND.”

“I just know I wouldn’t want someone I wasn’t comfy with in my space so I don’t get in others’ space.” You blush, “I’m comfortable with you guys.”

Boa had his head laid back on your stomach, and he giggles, “And we’re comfortable with you. So relax and have fun.”

Sugar stayed where he was, laid out near your legs, but he did give you a wink, but Spice seemed to be in thought, off behind Papyrus. That made Sugar move, looking over, “one g for your thoughts, spice.”

“is…is it too soon ta cuddle tha human?”

“It’s not if you use my name instead,” you offer. You wanted to get along with him better, and stop him running from you again.

“y/n,” he grinned and crawled over, slotting himself against your hip and whimpering very quietly as he finally relaxes next to you. “geeze, so good ta not be worried ya hate me.”

“I never hated you, Spice,” you pout, “I just got kind of overwhelmed and it ended up spoiling our first meeting. I want to get along with you like I do with Charm and Boa. Or even Sugar,” you look over at him, getting a surprised point at himself ‘who me?’

“Yes, you. I’ve noticed how little you say to me. You’re cordial, but distant. I want to be friendsssssss.” Emphasizing your point, you wiggle your foot at him.

Sans adds his observation, “they’ve got a point, sugar. C’mon, be a pal and join the fanclub.”

“Fanclub?” Charm asks.

“OH STARS, THAT’S PERFECT. YES! WE’RE Y/N’S FANCLUB.” Papyrus purrs a bit and laughs, “NYEHEHEH, I’M THE PRESIDENT, SANS IS VICE PRESIDENT, AND YOU TWO CAN CHOOSE WHOSE TREASURER AND SECRETARY.”

“I want to be secretary! I love wearing pencil skirts,” Boa declared, making Spice laugh.

Charm nodded, “Treasurer for me, then. I am very good at keeping track of finances. I was the accountant for our household back home, wasn’t I, brother?”

“yep,” Sugar was blushing, seemingly embarrassed for being called out, but he did drape himself against Spice’s back. So, not touching you, but still closer. “I’m more of a spender than a saver, so he had to keep track of me.”

“And I made sure you only had your weekly allowance to spend, otherwise you’d have given Grillby the lot!” Charm raised a browbone and Sugar’s blush deepened.

“I mean, his fries are the greatest, and I can’t turn down his virgin daquiris,” you admit, sighing.

“you a tea-totaler, baby doll?” Spice asked, and you nodded. “aww, well, guess there goes my idea of us gettin’ sloshed together for a real heart to heart.”

Boa pouted, “Mine too! I was going to show off my skills at the karaoke bar. I took voice lessons underground, y’know.”

Charm flicked Boa on the forehead, “Do remember that intoxication isn’t necessary for fun, dear cousins. It’s quite a lot more fun to do activities sober, so you can remember doing them.”

“buzzkill,” Spice stuck his tongue out at Charm, and you gasped.

“Spice, you’ve got a tongue piercing!”

“yeah?” he did it again, letting it hang out. A golden ball was resting in the middle of his tongue, “like it?”

“I don’t know, I’ve never met anyone with one before. It’s just…how? Your ecto isn’t permanent so…?”

“ehehe, well, if ya want it pierced, you gotta keep it summoned for the healing time. then it’ll always be there an’ ya can put tha piercing in when ya summon it back.” He then waggled his browbones at you, “got’em other places too, if ya ever wanna look.”

You turn bright red and squeal, “Nope! Bad Spice, no flirting!”

He laughs a bit, but then Charm picks it up, “Oh? No flirting? You mean I can’t tell you that I’d love to see those lovely lips moaning my name?”

Boa added, “Or your hands on my ribs?”

And Sugar finished, “Or how your clothes look on the floor?”

You screeched and wriggled, but Papyrus held you close, “EASY, LOVE, THIS IS JUST HOW THEY HAVE FUN. THEY FLIRT WITH ME, TOO.”

“and me,” Sans snickers. “’s kind of fun once you get used to it and can send it back at them.”

The others are laughing warmly as you hide your face in Papyrus’ shoulder. You’re on the edge of tears, but there’s a smile on your face, mostly because you know they’re all finally comfortable with you. You can take the flustering if it means having a good time with your friends.

--

“boa? Can I ask you something?” Sweet-pea walked into his brother’s room late in the night.

Looking up from his sewing table, Boa nodded, “Of course! What’s the question?”

Sweet-pea sat on Boa’s bed and pulled the covers up around himself like a cloak, covering his head, “uh…I kind of want to, to hug the human. and be in the pillow pile with you guys again.”

“You do?!” Boa set down his sewing and removed all the extra pins from his sleeve quickly, going over to kneel in front of the bed and look up into the shadows where his brother was hiding, “Sweet-pea, that’s wonderful! But not a question? What’s holding you up?”

The blankets were pulled tighter, “I don’t want papyrus and sans to be mad at me for touching their date. Are they okay with you and charm being friendly with them?”

“Yes, they are.” Boa smiled, patting Sweet-pea’s knee gently, “We got Y/n in the pillows last week and they have been joining in ever since, even when Sansy and Papy aren’t there. Even Sugar and Spice are in on it, and you know Sugar’s being paranoid as usual.”

Sweet-pea let the blanket fall back from his face a little bit, his eye lights showing just a little, “and they’re okay? with us holding them?”

“Yes!” maybe if he was more direct… “Sweet-pea, tomorrow, do you want me to see if they’ll spend time with you after school? I can be there, too.”

“could you?” the nervous skeleton finally dropped the covers entirely and slid off the bed, hugging Boa tight, “please? If I can be okay with them I can feel okay coming out in the house again.”

“Of course,” Boa cooed, holding his baby brother tight, “I’ll do anything to help you improve, you know that. And Y/n is a wonderful place to start getting used to humans. One step at a time, and you’ll get to see the world you deserve.”

Sweet-pea just nodded, feeling calmer now that his question and concerns had been addressed. He’d been enjoying the times he saw Y/n, when he came for food, and they’d been here such a long time, it just seemed silly to not…welcome them? To hide from them? He wasn’t sure which was the feeling, but he wanted to be out in the house like he had been before they came, and he wasn’t scared of Y/n anymore.

--

You’d had three tests today and you just wanted to relax.

Heading into the living room, you were surprised to find it mostly empty. The only two there were Boa and Sweet-pea, sitting in the middle of the pillow pile. On spotting you, Boa waved you over, “Y/N! My brother decided he’d like to join the pile, but he wants to get used to you first. Is that alright with you?”

Sweet-pea was rattling softy, but he gave you a wavering smile.

“Oh, yeah. I wanted to just hang out anyway after my tests, so let’s do it.” You clamber into a comfy spot, and Sweet-pea is soon glued to your side. Boa takes the other, and he seems very pleased.

“thank you,” comes the quiet voice of the most timid member of your household. He’s shaking a little, flinching when you put your arm around his shoulders, but starting to relax.

Boa murmurs as you use the hand by him to grab the remote and turn the TV on to some mindless show about auctions, “I really appreciate this, too. You’ve been really kind to my brother, and the fact he’s comfortable enough to even try this makes me hopeful.”

“Boa, you’re one of my best friends,” you reply as Sweet-pea stops rattling at all, “and I was being truthful when I said I wanted to be friends with all of you. I want to come home and know whoever I find is going to be happy to see me and I’ll be happy to see them. And I was already happy to see Sweet-pea anyway.”

The mentioned skeleton squeezed you a little, the ghost of a smile slowly settling into a more tangible form. “I felt that. helped me a lot, that you always smiled when I came in.”

“I was always glad you felt okay coming in,” you squeeze him back, “I know what it’s like to avoid people who make you uncomfortable. I did that all through school, hiding in corners at recess from the bullies. It’s an honor for me to be able to be a comfortable person for you.”

Boa starts sniffling, but you notice there’s a soft glow coming from under his scarf, “Stars, where have you been till now? Papyrus must have plucked you straight out of heaven.”

“Flatterer,” you say, even as you blush. “I’ve just been right here. Earthbound.”

“that’s my favorite game,” Sweet-pea mumbles. You grin, starting to hum one of the songs from it.

Boa hides his tearful smile in your shoulder, fingers gripping your shirt tightly as if he never wants to let go.

--

Papyrus taps his foot, “OKAY, SO LET’S GO THROUGH THIS AGAIN. YOU’RE ASKING ME WHAT THE ORIENTATION OF MY DATEMATE IS BECAUSE YOU WANT TO KNOW IF YOU CAN BE INTIMATE WITH THEM?”

“Yes,” Boa nods, looking very serious. “I don’t want take them or keep them from you and Sansy, honestly, but I have to know if there’s any chance.”

“WELL, HONESTLY I’D HELP YOU OUT IF I KNEW MYSELF!”

The shorter skeleton couldn’t help his jaw dropping, “Papy, it’s been what? two years now? And you haven’t even discussed it?”

“NO?” He blinked at Boa, busy making a battle scene with his action figures, “THEY NEVER ASKED ME FOR MINE, AND I CAN TAKE CARE OF MYSELF IF I GET ANTSY SO WHY WOULD I ASK THEM?”

“Oh….” Boa realized this was probably part of Papyrus’ different thought process. “Well, that does make sense when you put it that way. I know Sugar is getting irritated because he told Sans to ask, but you know he’ll drag his heels forever.”

“I WASN’T AWARE OF THAT. HUH.” Papyrus got up, realizing something, “OH, THIS IS REALLY IMPORTANT FOR YOU, ISN’T IT? YOU GUYS USE INTERCOURSE IN A LOT OF DIFFERENT CONTEXTS. I’LL ASK RIGHT NOW.” He pushed past Boa and went to your door knocking.

“Papy?” you looked up at him, and he smiled at you.

“HELLO, DEAR DATEMATE, I HAVE A QUESTION.” He waited for you to nod so he knew he could ask, “WHAT IS YOUR SEXUAL ORIENTATION? I KNOW YOU ROMATICALLY LIKE MEN, BECAUSE I AM ONE, BUT WHAT ABOUT THAT OTHER THING?”

Boa facepalmed, still in Papyrus’ room, but you could see him. And you didn’t really know what to say.

“Uh…I mean, I don’t know? I never got that far…I never even got a second date before you, Papyrus so I’m really in the dark, too.” You couldn’t really control your blush, but the ideas that started turning in your mind were making it hard to keep your cool.

“OH. WELL, YOU CAN ALWAYS LOOK UP DIFFERENT ONES AND SEE WHAT YOU RESONATE WITH. BOA JUST WANTED ME TO ASK BECAUSE HE’S INTERESTED.”

“PAPYRUS!” Boa turned bright cyan and ran to his own room, shutting the door loudly. This caused Sweet-pea to look out of his room in confusion. You shrugged, and he just nodded, going into his brother’s room and shutting the door behind him much softer.

“OH. I GUESS THAT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A SECRET. BUT SUGAR’S ASKED, TOO, FOR SOME REASON, SO I JUST…THOUGHT IT WAS OKAY TO SAY?” Papyrus was concerned, looking uncertainly between you and Boa’s door.

You sigh, “It’s probably just he wanted to talk to me about that himself privately, Papyrus.”

“OH. YES THAT MAKES SENSE. I’LL APOLOGIZE LATER WHEN HE’S NOT SO UPSET.” He then shuffled his feet and asked, “COULD…COULD WE TALK MORE ABOUT THIS? I KIND OF WANT TO LOOK AT THE OPTIONS MYSELF AND SEE IF WE CAN BOTH FIGURE OUT WHERE WE FIT IN. I HADN’T REALLY THOUGHT ABOUT IT UNTIL BOA WAS ASKING IF I KNEW.”

“I think that’d be fine,” you open the door wider and step aside, letting him in even as your heart is beating quite fast, cheeks still warm. “If I fluster, just know I’m doing it to myself and you’re wonderful as always.”

“OKIE DOKIE!”

--

A few hours later, you and Papyrus have found some labels you’re quite happy with.

Papyrus has picked out that he’s bisexual and demiromantic, and you’ve found that you don’t have any idea what to call yourself. You just know you love Papyrus, and you know you don’t mind the thought of getting intimate with him. Or Sans, now that you think about it. Maybe that demisexual thing was fitting? Cause it was only them you’d ever considered and that meant you probably needed trust to be deep and strong before you’d consider it. Or maybe it was just certain people. You don’t know.

But you, too, had asked how this hadn’t come up yet, and Papyrus’ answer had made you smile. “That’s why I never asked, too. And I bet Sans was just too lazy to ask, right?”

“OH I’M SURE.” Papyrus nodded sagely as the two of you sat on your bed, your salvaged laptop whirring away happily. Alphys had not only fixed it but upgraded it significantly. You were making her your grandmother’s fudge as a thank you present. “THAT AND HE’S MOSTLY TERRIFIED OF EXPOSING HIS WEAK POINTS TO ANYONE, ME AND YOU INCLUDED. BUT HE’S DOING BETTER, SO WE CAN ONLY WAIT FOR HIM TO TELL US WHAT HE WANTS TO DO.”

“Yeah.” You sigh and lean on Papyrus’ shoulder, causing his arm to snake around your waist and pull you all the closer. “But at least we figured that one out. Or your end. I’m too confused right now to pick.”

“I’D SAY YOUR SKELESEXUAL!” he grins, “BECAUSE YOU ONLY WANT TO BE INTIMATE WITH US. YOU HAVE THE MOST SPECIFIC AND WELL-GROOMED TASTE IN PARTNERS!”

That got you giggling, which was his goal all along, and the two of you lapsed into warm, tender silence. You put your computer onto a relaxing playlist in your music program, and set it down, sliding it away as you curled up into Papyrus more.

It was a warm, quiet afternoon, the last really nice day before winter set in, and there was a songbird somewhere outside your window. The light was pouring in from outside and you felt so comfortable, even as Papyrus’ hand gently began to move over your stomach, back and forth.

“So…” his softer voice made you pay attention, “is it okay if I explore a little? Boa’s got me curious, all this talk about foundations and orientations and flirtations…all the tations.”

You laugh a bit, “Yes, you can explore. Can I?”

“When it’s your turn, yes.” He seemed pleased, quickly pulling you into his lap and getting his other hand in on things, just touching lightly, doing as he said and exploring your body. “And if anything feels bad, or good, please tell me.”

“Sounds like a plan,” you relax against him, liking the warmth of his bones through his gloves. He moves slowly, occasionally asking questions.

“What’s this?”

“My bellybutton.”

“What does it do?”

“It’s the scar from where I was grown off my mom.”

“Oh right. I forgot humans did that.”

“And this?”

“A mole.”

“That is not an underground mammal.”

“No, it’s where my skin is super pigmented and raised. It’s no big deal, just a normal human thing.”

“Oh. It’s a poofy freckle then?”

“Yes.”

“Neat,” he giggled about that, leaving it alone afterward. Another moment or two of examining your arms and hands, then he asked, “Is it alright if you take off your shirt?”

“Sure,” you start the process, and he finishes it, giving you a huge smile.

“OH! IT’S JUST LIKE YOUR SPORTSWEAR, BUT FANCIER AND SMALLER. THAT’S NOT INTIMIDATING AT ALL.”

You chuckle and nod, turning around so he can look over the front of your body, shivering a bit as his hands stroke around your rolls with the same tenderness he’d used on the rest of you, the same quiet reverence. “Did you expect my underthings to be intimidating?”

“Well, honestly yes. Why else would you try so hard to hide them? The only things I hide about myself are the things I think would make other people uncomfortable.”

“Like you being Autistic?” you look up at him, and he blushes.

“I forget it’s not obvious to others, but yes. I should have told you, but it’s just not something that occurs to me to tell others. I was just so little when they found out, and it never seemed to bother Sans, so I don’t just put it out there. It’s like I don’t tell everyone about my oatmeal.”

“Even though you love your oatmeal,” you smile as his hands stroke the small of your back, “ooh, that’s a very sensitive place. I think it’ll probably feel very good if you treat it softly, and I mean very softly.”

“Ooh, yes, thank you for the pointer,” Papyrus pulled his gloves off, and it surprised you, but you stayed quiet and just enjoyed as he ran his fingertips over your back.

After a while, you asked, “Can I have my turn now?”

He blushed and nodded, peeling off his heather grey sweater and letting you see his bones. “I, um…I do hope you enjoy the private showing. Not everyone gets to see the Great Papyrus in his birthday suit!”

“I’m loving every minute,” you feel affection welling up as you look over his smooth, white ribs and see the faint orange glow inside them, “just like I enjoy all the time we spend together. Papy, you’re beautiful.” Hesitant at first, not knowing what you were doing, you just traced around his bones. The small groove in the center of his sternum where the bones fused, the curve of his thick ribs, the slight ridges of small marks on his arm bones that probably came from training, all of it was both familiar and fascinating. You’d felt his bones on your skin before, many times, but never had you consciously paid it mind. His bones had a scent, too, under the MTT perfumed stuff he used daily, lightly chalky but sweet.

He watched you, blinking slowly as you started to learn more about him, finding places on him that he encouraged or discouraged your touch to.

“Ah, don’t grab the spine too hard. It’s tender, but it’s also very delicate.”

“Yes, my finger joints feel very nice when you run your finger around them like that. Do that more.”

“Ribs are…wowie, they’re very sensitive in a very good way. I like that.”

It was nice, just the two of you in the quiet, finding new things about each other. When you’d gotten to his hands, you smile, “I think I’m satisfied with my turn.”

“Me, too. Is it okay if we just stop? I do kind of need to start dinner.” He looked at you and seemed very happy as you nodded. “I think we did a good job communicating with this. Thank you for sharing this experience with me.”

“I am so happy to have this as a memory,” you nod, getting off his lap and putting your shirt back on. Thinking on it now, you were very glad that faulty wire had shorted in your old roommate’s room. If your house hadn’t burned, you don’t know if you’d have ever gotten the opportunity or courage to take this step with Papyrus.

He gave you a nuzzle (MWAH!) and told you he loved you before he left, and you noticed he had a bounce to him that only appeared when he was extremely happy. You love Papyrus so much.

--

“boa.”

“NO! IT’S RUINED! THEY’RE GOING TO STOP TALKING TO ME BECAUSE I’M NOT LIKE HUMANS!”

“sans.”

“AND THEN THE WHOLE FAMILY WILL FALL APART BECAUSE I DIDN’T REMIND PAPYRUS IT WAS A PRIVATE CONVERSATION!”

“SANS!”

Boa stopped his panicked ranting and looked up at Sweet-pea, sniffling.

“sorry.” Sweet-pea curled himself back around his older brother and sighed, “but you were going down a rabbit hole. We can’t know how they’re going to react until we see them, right? y/n really cares about you, and even if they say no to sex, they aren’t saying no to being your friend. and you like being their friend, right?”

“Y-yes.” Boa was still crying, thoroughly embarrassed by what had happened in the hallway, but he felt more ashamed that his baby brother had to come comfort him about it.

Nodding, Sweet-pea squeezed tightly, his lanky body coming in handy to engulf Boa in support, “then we wait till we see them again at dinner, and see how things go. I know I’m a shut in, but having been shut in with them for this long makes me think they’re probably going to still think you’re an awesome friend.”

“I didn’t mean to freak out.”

“I know, bro. I’ve been there.”

Looking up, Boa took the bundle of tissues Sweet-pea had already gathered for his use and wiped his face, “When Y/n said there would be cultural differences, I didn’t really think about how much could be different. I guess I should have.”

Sweet-pea shrugged, letting him get up to straighten himself up, “maybe, but caring about someone and wanting to show that aren’t wrong. we just have to learn more ways to do that, and that’s only if they say no. we don’t have an answer yet.”

“Right. Right.” Boa took several deep breaths, then nodded. Closing his eyes and shaking himself a bit, Boa walked toward the door, “Okay. I’m going to text Charm, see what advice he has, and get in my most stylish outfit for dinner. You are a treasure, Pea, and I love you.”

Sweet-pea smiled, getting up, “it’s nice for me to return the favor and take care of you sometimes. Love ya, bro.” He left with a wave, and Boa closed the door before diving for his phone and clicking away at it in frantic texts to the resident expert in all things love.

--

Dinner was strained, but it was mostly just you and Boa not getting on like normal.

After a few minutes of this, Spice asked, “did I miss somethin’ or are you two doing some weird human shit?”

“LANGUAGE PLEASE,” Papyrus sighed, but gave your hand a pat. He wasn’t going to answer, he’d already messed things up by doing that once today.

“sorry, pap,” Spice said, then looked at Boa, “ain’t like you to be so quiet, boa. What happened? Ya jewel glow in front of them or something?”

“SPICE!” Boa gasps, hand going to his neck and skull turning cyan.

“Wait, is that what was glowing the other day?” You look over at Boa, “That jewel on your neck can glow? How? Isn’t it just glued on?”

Sans, at the other end of the table, facepalms, but he’s smiling a little.

Charm, who had just been observing up till now, grins, “Oh, no, dear. All of us have a jewel, save for Sans and Papyrus. It’s in a different place for each of us, but it’s very much a part of our body. It glows when we feel attraction to another person, usually physical but it can be mixed with emotion as well. Mine is here,” he points to his upper chest, currently covered by his tied up t-shirt that says ‘boy toy’ , “and it is polite to keep them covered up in front of people who aren’t family or lovers. If the glow shows through, or if it becomes uncovered on accident, it’s a little embarrassing.”

Spice blinked, then looked at you, “you sayin’ nobody told ya that before?”

“No!” you’re very flustered now, not realizing you’d basically just made a mistake in relations with monsters. “I’d just…sometimes when Boa’s scarf moves, I see his and I thought it was a fashion thing. Humans glue sparkly things to themselves all the time.”

Sweet-pea spoke up, reaching over and putting his hand on yours next to your drink glass, “it’s okay. you didn’t know. but does it make sense to you?”

“Yeah…kind of. I’m so sorry, I…”

“I-It’s okay,” Boa finally looked at you for the first time tonight. “Mine’s in a place that’s hard to hide, so you seeing it isn’t that big a deal. I just…I know you’re more private about feelings and things and I didn’t want to make you feel bad or weird.”

“boa, you’re practically attached to their hip, you and charm both, so I don’t think you’d be able ta do that,” Spice huffed.

You got up and put your arms around Boa’s shoulders, “He’s right. Yeah, the…the hallway thing was awkward, but we can talk about this. I think you’re wonderful, and you are one of my best friends. I’d hate to lose you just because I’m repressed or whatever is wrong with me.”

“Nothing is wrong with you!” Boa gasped, looking upward, “You just are different and that’s perfectly fine. Papyrus is different and we get along swimmingly. Charm is different and I like him just fine.”

“my brother has a whole tree up his ass and we still tolerate him,” Spice grins, and you laugh as Boa and Papyrus make scandalized noises.

Sans shakes his head, “hey, whatever caused this, I think it’s safe to say you’re forgiven or it’s okay. let’s all have a good time now.”

“YES.” Papyrus gives one last disapproving look to Spice, “WE ALL ARE DIFFERENT, BUT WE’RE FAMILY AND THUS WE’RE GOING TO LOVE EACH OTHER ANYWAY.”

Charm got a devious look and said, “I call dibs on loving Y/n.”

“WHAT? NO FAIR THEY’RE MY DATEMATE!”

“And I already got a hug so I have dibs,” says Boa, making you laugh as a playful argument began between the energetic folks at the table.

You look over at Sweet-pea and use sign, “are you okay with all this?”

He nods and signs back, “fine. thanks for asking. My brother was very worried, but it’s better now.”

Spice growled a bit, “you two over there with your speaking in hands. Never learned that stuff. ‘m jealous.”

Sans signs at him, “oooh, look at the big bad red man.”

“ack, you too, sansy? Ugh. why y’all gotta be so smart and sassy? Ain’t my fault I was a science lab rat and you guys got loving dads.”

You gasped, “What?”

Spice seemed to realize what he said, and blushed, sinking down in his seat, “I didn’ mean ta say that out loud, baby doll. ‘s not somethin’ I wanna talk about with ya yet.”

“Okay. But you can always talk to me anytime,” you want to be sure he knows that. Spice is just as much your friend as anybody else in the house.

“I know. thanks.” He mumbled it, but he did look at you, so you knew he got the message.

[kingofdirtandnothing]

@polyfacetious big ass Christmas Drabble Extravagaza: Day Twenty One

No live organism can continue for long to exist sanely under conditions of absolute reality; even larks and katydids are supposed, by some, to dream. Hill House, not sane, stood by itself against its hills, holding darkness within; it had stood so for eighty years and might stand for eighty more. Within, walls continued upright, bricks met neatly, floors were firm, and doors were sensibly shut; silence lay steadily against the wood and stone of Hill House, and whatever walked there, walked alone.

Steven looked at the blinking cursor at the end of the sentence on his screen, an accusing slow blink of black against the white background, and chews on the edge of his lip. He’s already worked his chapped lips past the point of being salvaged with chapstick. The next tug of his teeth against skin comes away with a strip of dead skin and the rusty taste of blood from the split against his tongue.

The line was good, he could feel the weight of it behind his teeth, and he could hear the ebb and flow of it in his own internal voice. It was melodic, it moved in all the right ways. So why was it that Steven couldn’t leave the line alone and move on? He’d been staring at it for seconds going on hours now, and it still wasn’t enough.

It was because something wasn’t sitting right, and Steven didn’t know how to suss it out. How did you root out the needle in the haystack when every time you ran your fingers through it, it came out just the same?

“You’re thinking too hard.” Luke’s voice, light and playful despite the depths it had plumbed to in the time between their last meeting years before and now, walking the same halls and living under the same roof again. Luke’s voice had been a puddle at Aunt Janet’s pitchy and splashy, full of ups and downs. It was deeper now, a little choppy at the tops of his words but you could feel the still waters running deep behind the consonants. 

That wasn’t the only thing that changed. 

Gone was the little brother with the coke bottle glasses and the lisp, with his big boy hat and his wide eyed hero worship of his older brother. Fine blonde baby hair had given way to something deeper, that cradled his skull and made his skin look brighter. It dusted across his forearms, down into the vee of his shirt when he wore the ones he slept in, worn out at the neckline into a soft scoop. 

There was some alien creature in front of him, wearing the subtleties of his little brother around the edges but little else to tie the ‘then-Luke’ to the ‘now-Luke’. His brother had become a song that you could hum the melody to, but you couldn’t remember the words to the song, no matter how hard you tried. 

(Elfin had been the first word that he thought of, when he was trying to slot some definition in his mind next to this new person in his life, overflowing from the old box in the back of his head that Steven kept him in. But nothing about Luke was elfin. Neither was he rangey, or coltish. There was too much weight to him, too much heft. Steven was still struggling to find the right word for him.)

“Sorry.” Steven scrubs a hand over his mouth and marvels at how different the voice that leaves his mouth is compared to the one he hears in his head. There are moments when it’s vertiginous, this separation between the inner and the outer. Sometimes, Steven isn’t sure which one is the right one. The real one. 

The real Steven Crain. Was it the mild mannered, bespectacled author who signed books in a shop down the street from his house to auction off for charity? Or was it the man who stood beneath the shower’s spray and found his thoughts swirling down the drain just like the water from the faucet? Steven wasn’t even sure that he wanted to know the answer to that question. 

“I’m having a hard time with this one.” Steven has made his name, and his living off of historical novels. Always with a sprinkle of the supernatural, a dash of despair. A winning recipe he’s not keen to change, even if there’s been half an idea brewing in the back of his head for months now that he doesn’t know what to do with. 

A different kind of story, when you got down to the marrow of it. Sure, all of his stories carried the same sort of melancholy to them, the same sense of longing. But this was less a vein running through the center of a stone and more a river cutting through the rock to carve its own path. Steven hasn’t even mentioned it to his publisher. He doesn’t know if he will. 

“What’s giving you trouble?” Luke’s hip juts out, a flash of skin between tank top and lounge pants, there and gone. He’s palming a bottle of juice, twisting and tightening the lid in the webbing between thumb and index finger. It’s oddly mesmerizing. 

“It feels…” Steven lets the words fall off the cliff of his tongue with nothing to follow. Because this was the crux of it, wasn’t it? He didn’t know what the problem was. The words on the screen lined up nicely, there was a music to them. They should be practically perfect, good enough that Steven wouldn’t mind Nell over his shoulder, or his editor taking a look at it. 

But something about them wasn’t sitting right with him. Steven pulls his gaze from Luke’s hands and turns it back towards the glare of the white screen, the cursor pulsing at the end of the last sentence like a lethargic heartbeat. 

“Disingenuous? No. Dispassionate? No.” It’s somewhere in this ballpark, a word that starts with ‘d’ that Steven just can’t put his finger on. “Distant.” It’s not a perfect fit by a long shot and Steven shows his displeasure of it with a crinkle of his nose. But it was going to have to do, or this conversation would be stalled for God knows how long. 

“Distant?” Luke echoes, the back end of it tugged up into a question. It’s a leading question, meant to give Steven the room to work it out on the free air, instead of the caged confines of his own head. Steven is more grateful than he can put to words right now. 

“Usually, when I write, I feel myself in the main character.” Even with his female leads, Steven could find enough of himself in them to do a passably good imitation. He’d never know exactly how a woman’s mind worked, Leigh was sure to tell him that, but Steven did okay. But not with this piece. 

“With this one, it feels like I’m standing over someone’s shoulder. Like I’m repeating their story instead of telling my own.” And that shouldn’t be a problem. Hundreds of stories were told that way, with limited perspective and distance to help control the narrative. Just not Steven’s stories. His stories were about being in the meat of it. Feeling what the character felt. No matter how painful. 

“Do you think it’s the wrong main character?” It’s a perspective that Steven would have never thought of for himself. Of course, Luke was always good at things like that. He and Nell saw the world differently than Steven did. And it helped him immensely when they gave that insight into their world view. 

“I don’t know.” Steven hums, drumming his fingers against the laptops casing in a rapid staccato. “Really, the story is supposed to be about the man who buys the house. He’s surrounded by this...maw. This gaping, ravenous darkness and he has no idea. It keeps growing around him, creeping in and he doesn’t even see it. Like the frog in the pot of water. He doesn’t know he’s boiling until it’s too late.”

Steven’s gaze slips to the window, unfocused enough that Luke is a series of soft shapes against the backdrop of golden sunlight. “It’s a ghost story, right?” The Luke shaped outline lifts the bottle of juice and finally takes a drink. Steven is grateful for the distance so he doesn’t watch the way that his throat works. “Why not write it from one of the ghosts perspective?”

That was...a very interesting thought. “I do have a couple of spirits who aren’t inherently evil and haven’t been driven mad by the house.” The ‘yet’ feels heavy on his tongue, but Steven doesn’t want to commit to anything, not when they’re rebuilding on top of the very foundation of the story right now. 

“Yeah? Like who?” Luke moves away from his perch against the counter and comes back into focus in Steven’s peripheral before he slinks down into the kitchen chair across from the laptop, knees wide and shoulders rolled down loosely. So much new muscle and length that he didn’t know what to do with yet, or how to move. 

“There’s one…” It comes out guarded to his own ears. Steven tends to keep his stories to himself until he can filter the biggest parts of himself out through the narrative. “An heir who dies to keep the rest of his family safe.”

An older brother who dies to protect his siblings, both the beloved and the ungrateful alike. But Steven can’t say that out loud, he can’t admit how much of his writing is just wish fulfillment turned into something just different enough to pass muster. 

“There you go.” If Luke catches on, he doesn’t say anything about it. And he doesn’t wear any of it openly across a face that has never kept a secret in all its life. Steven was grateful for that. For as much as Shirl and Theo had grown and changed into people unrecognizable from the siblings he grew up with, there was still enough Nellie and Luke left in this young adults who moved in with him just last year for Steven to find comfort in.

He’d never mistake this kitchen for Aunt Janet’s, but at least he could look at his brother and still see someone who cared for him looking back. 

Luke says it like it’s so simple. There you go. As if shifting the entire narrative was just that simple. Make a choice, and commit to it. It couldn’t really be that simple, could it? Steven scrubs a hand against his stubbled cheek and finally looks at something other than his brother or his words. He looks at his coffee cup, and buys himself precious seconds with an overly sweet mouthful of still too hot coffee. 

Just like that. A new perspective. The same story, just told through a different lens. 

You could turn a villain into a hero with a new perspective. And you could excuse things that might be inexcusable otherwise. 

“There I go.” Steven parrots it back to him with a slow, wonder drenched shake of his head. “I don’t know how I finished any books without you here.” He’s rewarded with a big, bright grin that lights up Luke’s entire face, somehow reminding him of the kid he knew while simultaneously making him look every bit the adult he was now. 

“Y-you’re welcome.” That stutter sets off something warm and pleased in Steven’s chest. Luke didn’t stutter nearly as much as he did when a kid, but it was just as often a good thing these days as it was something stressing him out. 

Steven takes another sip of his coffee, this time so that he can hide his smile behind it. Given the eye roll he gets from Luke, Steven doesn’t think it’s very successful. But when he says “How many porch light metaphors are too many?” and gets a laugh in return, it all feels successful enough. 

[kusunogatari]

[ ObiRyū October | Day Twenty-Four | Artificial ] [ @abyssaldespair ] [ Uchiha Obito, Suigin Ryū ] [ Verse: Pretty in Pictures ]

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“Tch…!”

With a far harder throw than she intends, Ryū pelts her phone against the top blanket of her bed, the mobile bouncing harmlessly against the plush surface.

She just gets so sick of this…!

Rather than the bed, she sits at her desk, burying her face in her hands as elbows rest atop it. She’s not even sure why this particular phone call is setting her off so badly. It’s just another party she’s being advised to attend by her agent. She’s been to more than she could ever count since she was fourteen and her contract was first drawn up.

But her temper has been rather...short lately. Or maybe her patience is a better word. She’s just so fed up with all of...of...this!

All of it!

The fake people, the fake smiles, the fake friendships...even her fake relationship. It’s all so obnoxiously artificial. While she’s been slowly waking up to this reality for a while now, it’s really been sinking in the last two weeks.

The last fourteen days since she nearly committed suicide.

For whatever reason, all the worries, all the thoughts she’d been holding back over the years had come to a head. Something about the charity auction and dinner had lifted it all to the surface at once, swirling in her mind like a whirlpool that dragged her down into the deepest depths of the depression she’d been trying desperately to deny. Her brain had latched onto how performative it all was. How much that bothered her. All the scummy people there to throw what looked like fortunes but were really drops in the bucket to make themselves look better than they were. It had left her feeling so sick, so...hopeless.

Then it had bled into the fragility of her own position. How her marketable looks and aesthetic could only last so long...how beauty and allure would fade, and then what? She’s been built into an image, but...what would she have left when that image changed? How much would she lose?

...and who?

A desperate walk for air and clarity had instead led her to the bridge near the hotel, the rushing waters a tempting way to let everything be washed away.

...but that was not to be, a stranger happening upon her. She’d nearly fallen in surprise, but he’d caught her, saved her, pulled her back to solid ground.

For a time she had no idea who he was...but managed to track him down with a little help from her assisant. She still only knows him by Tobi, but...he’s unlike almost anyone she knows.

He’s obviously not of the ilk she’s usually kept tethered to: rich, chic, sophisticated, fake. He’s a real person, with real struggles and problems and faults. Not like the spoiled brats she’s been forced to grow up with, complaining about nothing while those like Tobi struggle to survive. Hiding behind masks of marketing and social media. Appearing flawless, but hiding nasty, shallow realities behind their smiles.

It makes her so nauseous...but Tobi has been a crack in the dam. A knothole in the fence she’s been kept in for over a decade, giving a glimpse of the other side. While she’s still getting to know him, and maybe she should be skeptical of strangers...she can’t help but feel slightly attached to him. Largely, she suspects, because he saved her life (inadvertently or not), but also because he’s been a breath of fresh air socially. No pretenses, no one-upping, no grovelling (ugh, she hates when people do that…). He’s just...normal with her. Nothing like anyone she knows...except maybe her father. But even Jiraiya has his moments. Even now he still tends to baby her a bit, clearly a bit stuck on her being his “little girl”.

...she can understand it. Her career robbed them both of her growing up normally. Trying to cling onto that makes sense, really.

But it all comes together to exhaust her...she’s not her own person. Hasn’t been in over a decade. The facade is falling apart, she’s too tired to keep it up, she needs…

...a break.

The party is scheduled for tomorrow. Rather late notice compared to most social functions she gets roped into, but doable. Apparently she already has a fitting for a dress and professional makeup applications scheduled for her.

But the more she thinks about it, the more she makes up her mind.

She’s not going.

And she’s not telling her manager. She’s tired of the man’s grip on her, and maybe doing something of her own volition for once will help it sink in: she’s not just his plaything to make money with. She’s allowed to say no.

So, instead, she retrieves her phone (by now calmed down enough to feel bad for throwing it) and sends Tobi a text.

Are you doing anything tomorrow?

She can already hear the angry complaints: from her manager, her agent...Itachi. But damn it, she wants to make her own decisions for once! Nearly plummeting off that bridge has made her realize how much of her life needs to change. And she’s going to start changing it now.

A few minutes later, her mobile gives a buzz, and a few taps show a reply from Tobi.

Nothing important, no. You need something?

Her mouth settles into a determined line, quickly messaging back, I need an excuse to dodge a party tomorrow, and I think going to see a friend is good enough.

A bit of silence, then another reply. Haha! Standing up your snobby friends? I approve! Name the time and the place, we will do whatever you want.

A kind of giddiness overtakes her, a smile finally pulling at her face. Tobi is such a sweetheart. So much less rigid and ridiculous than anyone else she’s usually stuck with.

I’ll mull it over and let you know - nothing too drastic, just...a break from the drama.

She feels a lot better, now. Maybe...slightly nervous because she’s never been the rule breaking type. But damn it, she needs a break.

No one on her team - no one at all, really, except Tobi - knows about what happened on the bridge. Knows how low she got, how low she’s been. It feels like a facade she can’t drop. That if someone were to find out how close she’d been to jumping, they’d lock her up in a psych ward. She doesn’t want anyone fussing, but...she also wants a breather.

...she especially can’t let word get back to Jiraiya. It would break his heart. He’s already lost his wife...losing his daughter would crush him.

The thought alone makes her feel terribly guilty: how much she would have hurt him. But...she’s not going to get that bad again. No...things are going to change.

Even if that change is going to be painful...she hopes, in the end, it will be for the best.

With her plans arranged, she goes about her evening before turning in, a smile on her face as she slips into sleep.

Come morning, she’s made up her mind.

Have you ever gone rollerskating?

Tobi’s reply is a bit slow. That’s really random. Why?

I’ve always wanted to learn. Can that be what we do today?

I guess so, sure.

Sorry...I just need to do something NORMAL today.

No apologizing. It’s your decision! But I’ll warn you now...I don’t know how either. So when I fall on my ass, you can’t laugh.

Then you can’t laugh at me, either!

Grinning at her phone, Ryū then goes ahead and looks up the nearest roller rink. There’s one on the west side of town...that should work pretty well! She texts Tobi the address and they agree to meet there at noon.

Her dress appointment is at noon, and her makeup at three. Looks like she won’t be making those...

This almost feels like those playdates her mother used to take her on when she was really little: a bunch of kids brought together for an activity and to run out some energy while all the moms looked on. A reminiscent feeling of excitement builds in her chest.

This is exactly what she needs.

After a quick breakfast and picking an outfit, she gets in her car and starts making her way there. GPS guides her until she pulls into the lot. As it’s a Saturday, it actually looks pretty busy. Realizing she doesn’t know what Tobi’s car looks like (or...if he even has one), she instead heads inside and starts to shoot him a text to let him know she’s here.

“Hey!”

Jumping, Ryū turns to see...he’s already here! “Oh! Hey! I was just gonna text you - you haven’t been waiting long, have you?”

“Nah, got here a few minutes ago. Trying to decide how badly I want to embarrass myself,” Tobi replies with a grin.

“Well, everyone will be laughing at both of us, I assure you. But I’ve always wanted to learn how to do this, it looks so fun…!”

“Then that’s what we’ll do.”

They each pay for their admission before heading into the belly of the building. Most of it is taken up by the actual rink, but there’s also a place to sit and eat, to get your skates, and an arcade.

“Hungry?” she asks.

“Meh, not yet. Let’s give this a try first. Then we can have a pity lunch to nurse our inevitable wounds.”

That gets her to laugh. “Good plan!” At the skate counter, Ryū starts with the two-side roller skates rather than the single line of wheels on the roller blades. Surely that will be easier to keep her balance on.

Tobi, on the other hand, goes right for the blades.

“Feeling daring?”

“I figure I might as well go all-in,” he shrugs.

“You’re braver than I am, heh.”

Sitting on nearby benches, they swap their shoes for the skates. Still seated, Ryū gives them a testing roll against the carpet. “...oh boy…”

“Hey, it was your idea!”

“I know, I know! I’m just nervous.” She flashes an uncertain but excited smile. Clinging to the back of the bench, she hauls herself to her feet. For a moment she wobbles, but then regains her center of balance. “...okay...that’s not so bad.” As for how to actually move...she has no idea. Lifting a foot, she tries to take a step...and nearly crashes as her other foot bears all the weight and starts to move backward. “Oh sh-!”

Tobi, still seated, manages to grab her arm and steady her. “Easy!”

Color floods her cheeks, hoping no one saw that… “S-sorry.”

“You apologize a lot, you know that?”

“It’s...a bit of a reflex.”

Of course it’s then a gaggle of kids come zooming by, stopping as they spot Ryū’s trouble. “Hey! Need some help?”

She chuckles sheepishly. “Um...maybe…? How do you...go…?”

“Ya gotta push your feet out!” a little girl offers, giving a demonstration. Rather than moving her feet back and forth, she sweeps them out to the side. “So ya push!”

Ryū watches, blinking. “...so...like this…?” Cautiously abandoning her hold, she tries to mimic the motion. At first, she wobbles rather dramatically, arms flailing like a cartoon character to maintain her balance. But then she starts drifting forward, body getting accustomed to the leans. “...oh...wait...I-I think I got it?”

All grinning, the kids swarm around her, cheering her on as she practices on the carpet. Once she makes a few passes back and forth, she looks up to Tobi, grinning widely. “I’m doing it!”

He just snorts, still sitting. “Okay, good. Now you have to teach me.”

For a moment, the kids pause as they look at him.

“My friend and I have never roller skated before,” Ryū offers. “But he said we could learn together! He’s Tobi - I’m Ryū!”

The kids’ wariness then seems to ease, and they start encouraging Tobi to his feet.

“Now, uh...I have a bit of a bad leg. So go easy on me,” he asks, wobbling much as Ryū did as he gets going. But slight infirmity aside, he manages to get the hang of it after a few passes. Ryū can’t help but giggle as the kids give a cheer at his success.

It’s Tobi’s turn to give a shy smile. “...well. I haven’t fallen yet.”

“No, not yet. But we’re still going slow on the carpet.”

They agree to practice a bit more, the flock of children disappearing back to the crowd on the rink. Soon enough they’ve mastered the carpet.

Time to try the smooth wood of the rink.

“...can I ask a stupid question?” Ryū offers as they approach one of the gaps in the wall to board the rink.

“Sure?”

“Can I hold your hand? Just to help, uh...steady myself?”

She knows that might be a bit weird. While she herself considers Tobi a friend - maybe not yet a close friend, but a friend nonetheless - she also knows the gesture might be a bit...forward.

But to her surprise, despite a small pause, he nods. Gripping his hand and weaving their fingers, Ryū takes the first step. And oh boy is it slippery. “W-whoa, okay, uh…” Hanging onto the wall, she lets Tobi follow behind her. Once they’re both a bit steady, they wait for a gap before merging onto the outermost layer of the rink.

They’re slow, and people keep passing them, but...they aren’t falling. Synching up their steps, they find a rhythm and start gliding smoothly in an oval around the outside.

Realizing she’s actually doing it, Ryū’s expression brightens, a smile lifting her lips and eyes shining with childish excitement. How long has she wanted to do this, and now she’s just...doing it! She made a plan, and stuck to it.

...when was the last time she was able to do that?

From the corners of his eyes, Tobi watches her, expression unreadable.

They do a few passes before agreeing to peel back off. Breath a bit elevated with adrenaline, Ryū looks to Tobi with uncensored joy. “That...was amazing!”

He laughs, not...really seeing the appeal of going around and around in a circle. But it’s making her happy. “Should we eat something?”

“Yeah!”

It’s mostly just pizza and the like, so they settle on splitting one. Sipping her soda, Ryū watches the other skaters from their elevated table along the edge.

“So, why roller skating?”

“Huh?”

“Why was roller skating what you picked to do today?”

She chews her straw, thinking. “...I dunno. Just seemed like fun. Kids used to skate on the street I lived on when I was a kid, but...I never got to do it. My mom always said I was too young and that I’d get hurt, and then...we moved after she died. I kinda forgot about it. But I think I just figured it was one of those childhood things I missed out on with how I was raised. So...maybe it was a bit immature to ask for it, but...I wanted something normal. Something boring.” There’s a pause. “...that really makes me sound like a privileged jerk, doesn’t it?”

“Psh, no,” Tobi assures her, waving her concern aside. “I’ve never done it either. Just depends on how you were brought up.”

“I guess so. But I mean...asking for something normal and calling it boring. Do I sound rude, wording it like that?”

Another wave. “No. You said it yourself before: you live in a fake world. Wanting something that feels outside that...bubble is your right. Don’t worry about it. Any time you need a break, just let me know. We’ll do something boring.”

His reply makes her laugh. “Want to do some more?”

“Ah, I’ll wait. My leg’s a bit sore.”

Worry immediately colors her expression. “You okay?”

“Fine, fine. You go, I’ll watch. Don’t fall, hm?”

“I won’t, I won’t…” Giving him one last glance, Ryū then abandons the table and heads back out onto the rink.

Once she’s gone, Obito grabs a pill vial from his coat pocket, popping a pill and washing it down with soda.

What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her.

And as he promised, he watches her do her circles, slowly getting more confident and extending her movements. They even play a game she participates in, getting eliminated about halfway through. Even in her defeat, sitting in an alcove along the rink, she’s pink-cheeked and grinning.

...she really is having a blast, isn’t she?

He can’t help but be a bit envious of that. Of getting so excited over something so simple. But...well, she has reasons to be. Her life - while in some ways so much easier than his own - is still riddled with problems. Getting a moment to get away from that seems to be doing her a lot of good.

Eventually she comes back, sitting with a gasp to catch her breath. “Man...I’m tired! I didn’t think it would be such hard work, but...my legs are sore! How’s yours feeling…?”

“Fine, I took some Advil. I’ll be all right. It just gets stiff sometimes.”

As he’s becoming familiar with, uncensored concern colors her face. “All right...I’m sorry, I didn’t even think about…?”

“I told you, it’s fine. Glad I got to do a bit. Maybe it’ll be good exercise for it.”

“...okay.”

“So, want to go again, or…?”

“I think I’ve had my fill for a while. What about you, anything else you want to do?”

“Nah.”

Finished, they turn in their skates and retrieve their shoes before heading to the door. It’s there they have to part ways.

“Hey...thanks for humoring me today,” Ryū offers, a bit bashful. “I had a lot of fun…!”

“M’glad. So...how many angry texts do you have?”

“No idea, I turned off my phone. I’m sure I’ll get earfuls from everyone later, but...for right now, this was more important. I...really needed today.”

Tobi looks her over thoughtfully. “...feel better?”

“Better than yesterday, at least.” She gives a tired smile. “...slowly but surely.”

“...good. Well, you better go hide for a few more hours, hm? And I need to get home.”

“Thanks for going with me.”

“Of course. Next time you want to be a rebel, let me know,” he grins, watching as she waves (Tobi returning the gesture) and returns to her car.

...well, that went better than he expected. Seems she’s starting to test her new boundaries, figure out what she can get away with and what control she can start taking back.

It’s only a matter of time before she starts questioning things beyond her schedule.

Obito grins to himself, checking his phone to ensure he didn’t miss anything important. But he finds himself distracted, remembering the look of wonder on Ryū’s face.

...it was cute.

...he’d bet a hundred dollars she’s never had that look when around Itachi. Just those artificial smiles to placate him.

And Obito can’t help but smirk at that.

Obito one, Itachi zero.

     ...okay this is actually really cute and makes me wanna get back into roller skating kjdhfgjh - that was totally random but maybe my subconscious is trying to tell me something xD      So this is meant to be pretty early in PiP: only about two weeks after the first bit I ever posted. Hence Ryū knowing Obito by ‘Tobi’ and not yet knowing he’s an Uchiha or anything. So just a lil bonding time for the pair of them ;3      Anywho I am...still a day behind (again OTL) so I’ma try to at least start today’s, maybe finish it in the morning and get back on track! Thanks for reading~

[justjessame]

Babysitting Butcher Chapter 9

Files, files, and more files. Billy and I worked through box after box as the days passed. We filled one notepad each, and then a second. We were on the third book each, and still have four boxes left. The dead files, as I called them internally, weren’t of much use other than to show how many babies, children, and adults died for Vought’s urge to create supes. The successful, but whereabouts unknown boxes were helpful in the sense that they offered the scope of how many supes were in mingling in the world without any way to trace them, but none of the files we’d gone through so far had proven fruitful in the quest to name our unknown spree killer.

The other files were successful and whereabouts known, and they were even less helpful. The names we’d found were ones that were easily verified. Through the supe pageants and Vought’s countrywide placement of supes in each state. Even without the chips that The Seven were given, and the other placed supes, the others tended to be known simply because a great deal of them craved attention.

I moved to open the next box, but Billy stopped me. “We’re not working through lunch, Ronnie.” He pulled me to my feet and smiled down at me. “Here or-” Shrugging to show that I didn’t have a preference he smiled. “Out, then.”

I was slipping into my shoes, rolling my eyes at his gaze focused on my toenails again. They were pale pink, I’d tried clear, white, purple, so I was giving this ‘natural’ one a try. So far, nothing forced his attention away. “I swear to God, one day I’ll find a color to make them boring to you.” He was chuckling as he led me to his car.

 Over the course of our work, and our mealtimes, we took turns picking the take out or restaurants. Today was Billy’s turn and he pulled into a diner that may have made my mother pause and grab some sanitizer. I’d been here before, so I knew that looks were deceiving, because they had the best burgers in the city. And the fries? Don’t get me started.

Tucking into our meals, because I swear the owner could see us coming a mile away and it took no time to get our orders, Billy brought up a subject I’d just as soon forget.

“How many days til you go up on the block?” His eyes, as always, were locked on me. I groaned, and took a long drink.

“Three,” the auction was on Saturday. And trust me, I’d tried everything to get out of it, including calling the club and threatening to cancel my membership. Didn’t work, since the very smug and condescending woman who answered informed me that my parents paid my membership fees and would never stop. Fuck. “Hey,” I brightened up and smiled. “Why don’t you ‘accidentally’ shoot me?”

He snorted and spit a little of his own drink out thanks to my idea. “You always do that when I’m eating or drinking, Ronnie.” I handed him some napkins and he shook his head, but he was smiling. “I’m not gonna shoot you, even if there are days-”

“Oh, please,” I waved him off. “Our days aren’t anywhere near the irritating level they used to be, back when I wanted to throw my stapler at your head.” My tone sounded wistful and his eyes were twinkling. “Throw me a bone, Butcher, shoot me so I don’t have to go through with this archaic bullshit.”

 Friday came too soon, and I would have worked through the entire day and into the next night if I could have. Sadly, Billy seemed to be working against my hopes. “Up you get,” he said, right on the dot of the time I’d usually quit. Fucking traitor. “You got to get beauty sleep so you get the highest dollar, right?” I flipped him off as I slipped into my heels. “Is that ladylike, Veronica?” It was the first time he’d used my full first name and the sound of it made my heart thump harder.

“Maybe if I’m not ladylike, they’ll kick me out,” I sounded breathless and sighed. “Then again, it might make me more alluring to these assholes.” He chuckled. “You could still shoot me.” Shaking his head, he led me out to my truck. He’d parked closer to me, as he started doing after the first week we worked together.

“Go, try to enjoy yourself, and for fuck’s sake, Ronnie, fetch the highest price would ya?” I rolled my eyes and he grinned. “Woman like you should get it easily.” And then he was walking away, still not saying goodbye.

 The next evening I was putting the finishing touches on my hair and makeup when my phone rang. I knew who it was before I glanced at the screen, but it didn’t stop my sigh. “Yes, Mother?” I answered.

“Veronica, is that really how you answer the phone?” No, when it’s someone other than my mother, I’m polite, I thought. “We’re sending a car for you,” I started to protest but she cut me off. “That vehicle,” said in the same tone as one might ‘that dog turd’, “you drive is far too high up and I think a lady should exit a car with grace, not a jump.” My eyes were going to get stuck in the top of my head, I just fucking knew it. “Don’t rush, I just wanted you to know that the car will be there soon.”

“Duly noted, Mother.” I used the tip of my finger to wipe away a speck of mascara that dared to smear. “I’m almost ready anyway.”

“I do hope you chose a suitable dress, and please tell me your toenails are a normal color?” I glanced down at my toes, the polish bottle called it ‘mermaid green’, so normal for The Deep? “Especially if you plan on wearing open toed shoes.” I glanced at the strappy heels I’d chosen and grinned. “I’ll never understand-”

“If you don’t let me hang up, Mother, then I won’t make it within the required ‘decent’ arrival window.” She sighed, loud and long, but let me hang up. I rolled my shoulders and prayed against prayer that I would be one of the first on the block and that I could leave early.

A final look in the mirror once I had my shoes on confirmed that I looked presentable. The dress code for these things were always the same. Evening dresses, updos, and heels. Boring, boredom, bored. The dress I had on would make my mother sigh, but it looked good on me, and if I had to dress up then why not pick something flattering?

Held up by one thin strap, form fitting to the floor, with a slit showing ample leg (even if mine were short, they were toned). Black, because it was classic, and satin because I loved the way the fabric felt on my skin. The shoes I was happy to see, showcased the glittery green of my toenails. My makeup was only slightly more dramatic than I wore to work, my hair was twisted in contrasting waves into an updo. No jewelry, the dress needed no enhancement, but a small clutch with the usual necessities, including my house key, badge, office key fob, and cellphone.

The driver was waiting in my driveway, and he quickly opened the door for me while I locked up. And even with all the attention I put into my appearance, I really fucking hoped the evening would end quickly. Really truly, please.

 The club. What could be said about it? Pretentious. That was one word for it. Filled to the brim with smug, condescending assholes with too much money and not enough empathy worked too, though a bit wordy. The driver got to stay behind the wheel as a valet rushed forward to open my door. Stepping carefully out, I sighed. This was going to be a long night, I just knew it.

 John Alan Erickson was the highest bidder for my company during a meal that I was more than certain would be more torture than a root canal without anesthesia. He looked exactly how every other man who had won the bidding for me in the past, just a touch older than the ones that came before.

Tall, thin, wearing a well cut suit, and looking for all the world like a banker or something that would make my ears bleed as he inundated me with all the ins and outs of it during the meal I was now forced to share with him in the near future. I smiled through the introduction, knowing that I had at least two avid stalkers. My parents, standing just out of slapping range, watched as I nodded and smiled. Smile, nod, nod, smile. John didn’t need my active participation in the conversation, or monologue he was giving. I nearly danced out of my shoes when my cell phone rang loudly inside my clutch. Thank the fucking-

“Hello?” I answered, holding a single finger up to shush John who looked like he was going to tell me how rude I was to take a call during his speech. It was Billy Butcher and I felt like hugging him for telling me that I was needed at the office, pronto. “I’ll have to ask the driver my parents hired, but I should be there-”

“No need, Ronnie, I’m outside.” My smile grew. My fucking hero. “Tell those cunts that you have a prior engagement and get your ass outside.”

“I’ll be there in a moment.” I offered the slimmest of excuses to John and my parents who had come over to smooth his ruffled feathers. “Work calls.”

“Honestly, Veronica,” my mother admonished, but too bad. “Couldn’t you just-”

“No, I can’t.” I was firm. “I have to go, it was nice meeting you, John. Mother will give you my number so we can finalize dinner plans.” And then, without another word, I left.

I didn’t run, although it was a fucking close one, and seeing Billy Butcher waiting in a car that was making the valets take second looks at make my grin grow. I didn’t wait for the valet to make up his mind about the car, yanking open the passenger door and getting in, I told him to get me out of there.

[quinnhayden]

we've seen both bucky and quinn as the soldier and fenrir but what if it was steve instead that was the winter soldier or captain winter or whatever the fuck they would call him cause you know they would be using his old title to fuck with him but anyway steve falls of the train and bucky puts the plane in the water and later quinn is taken by hydra and becomes fenrir and i am super curious as to what fenrir and steve winter soldier would be like together. or even seeing all three of them

So, I was diving through the inbox and saw this and for some reason got really super inspired?

On Halloween, it’s her. He knew it would be. The man that his team expects she’ll assassinate has women and children locked up in his basement that he plans to sell at an auction once this masquerade ball is over. So, this is personal to her. She’s alone, but he didn’t expect them both to show up. His brain understands that it’s a tactical decision—one is arrested, kidnapped, or killed then the other can continue on with their work. His stupid, lovesick heart wants to believe it’s a desperate attempt to keep distance between themselves and him. He knows some warm memories come back to them when he’s around. Put them all three in the same room? He wants to think it’d make them crack and cave. It’d make them come home with him and that scares them. They want to be wild and free and he threatens that with his promise of domesticity.

There are old stories that he’d heard back in the war. About werewolves that could be cured and turned back into a human. All that needed to be done was to have someone the werewolf trusted and loved whisper their true name. Fuck, he wishes that was true, but those stories don’t talk about what to do if the werewolf doesn’t remember who they used to be. That still doesn’t stop him. Sometimes, all he can ever do is scream their names. He still loves them both. He’ll do whatever he can to make them remember.

When she makes her appearance, the irony of her costume isn’t lost on him. The maroon corset pushes her breasts up and her lips are painted the exact same shade. The hooded cape is, too, and it has velvet material. Rather than the skirt he’s seen other women wear, she’s in black leather pants and boots. Doesn’t make the costume any less of a hot little number, but now it’s more practical should all hell break loose. And it will now that she’s here.

Because it isn’t Little Red Riding Hood that stands in front of him. Here, she’s a hunter. These are the missions where she thrives, he knows. She touches his chest and slides her hands up to his shoulders. When she smiles up at him, it’s sharp. No wonder she’s called Fenrir. She’s the Big Bad Wolf. A predator in sheep’s clothing. But, oh, does she try to play up the innocent act. There’s a little wooden basket in her hand that she pulls something out of. Then, she holds it up between them and sweetly asks, “Apple?”

“Poisoned apples are a different fairytale, sweetheart,” he tells her over the music.

And his back is pressed to the bar. She brackets him in with her arms as she places the apple and her little basket on the bar behind him. But she doesn’t move away. “Aw, I’d never poison you. Just wouldn’t be as much fun without you around.” She wraps her hands around the leather straps of his uniform and pulls him close to her. “Oh, I didn’t wish you a happy Halloween. Why don’t you find a quiet room where I can let you have a treat?”

“And leave you alone to play your tricks?”

“Why do you even bother to pretend you’re here for anyone but me?” Jesus, she’s always made his knees weak when she leans in the way she does now. Hovers her lips over his. “Or that you wouldn’t let me do exactly what I want? All I have to do is say that I haven’t been able to do what I want almost seventy years and you would let me burn the whole world down.”

“Baby, I’d hold the match.” He would. God help him, he would.

That coy and playful smile disappears. She presses her thumb to the dimple in his chin and stares into his eyes. “They really should’ve left you in the ice,” she mourns almost to herself. “My beautiful boy, this world’s too mean for someone with a heart like yours.” Isn’t that a kick in the balls? Because that’s what he’d think about her, back in the war. Good woman like her never should’ve been thrown in war. But then he went and crashed a plane and left her behind to be swallowed up by the nastiest parts of the world. “And look where you’re at now. You’ve taken monsters to bed.”

“You’re not monsters.”

“We are,” she croons. As quick as the emotions came, she’s back to the superficial sensuality. “Because I plan to kill all the men who plan to show at the auction and I’ll love every second. I’ll make them howl. I’ll tear them to pieces and write on the walls with their blood to make all the people like them scared. They’ll have a slow, extremely painful death and that makes me happy. We don’t take orders anymore. Now, we kill because we like it.”

“And all those women and kids locked up, what about them? You plan to let them rot inside their cells?” Her lips purse and she doesn’t answer. She doesn’t need to. “No. You won’t even wait on my team. You think I don’t know about the little network you two have set up to help victims? You two do the same work I do, but you’re as brutal with the bastards as I wish I could be. I wish I could drop this all and come with you two. I want to watch them burn, too.”

She leans in to nip at his earlobe. “I love when you talk dirty to me.” Her cheek presses to his. “I’ve never had beard burn before. And I’d be so much happier to kill them all with your come inside me. Want to help me out with that?”

Why the hell does she even bother to ask anymore?

One second she’s there and then she disappears the next. He suspects she does it so on the off-chance that someone clocks him, he won’t be seen with her. Sometimes, he thinks she cares more about his reputation than he does. The world would lose their shit to see him with an ex-Soviet assassin turned mercenary. He could care less.

Like a lovesick pup, he follows after her. She never makes it hard. A door is cracked open on an upper floor and he sneaks inside the emptied office. She’s sprawled back on the leather couch and smirks at him, pleased as punch. As he locks the door behind him, he notices some drawers are open to the desk on the other side of the room. Papers strewn across the floor. It’ll probably be information about the people who host the auction, will attend it, and all their known associates. A head-start for his team, but she and her partner are always one step ahead of them. It’s a courtesy. An excuse. Natasha and Sam tend to not ask questions when he’s not empty-handed.

“Y’know, here lately, you look real tense in all the pictures I see of you, Cap,” she drawls in the southern accent that makes his heart ache. “Why don’t you c’mon over here, huh? I know how to help you relax.” She spreads her legs, a blatant invitation, and pops the button of her pants.

And he shouldn’t because the more he does this with them both, the more he falls back in love with them. No doubt, they’re all on the road to ruin and his heart will end up broken, but he’ll ride this out. They’ve always been his addiction. He tried, before he knew they were alive, to sleep around in hopes he could…could feel more than the ice and the pain and the loneliness. It never worked. Man or woman, he couldn’t even get it up. They’re it. They’re the ones for him.

Before he knows it, he’s down on his knees between her parted thighs. He rubs his cheek against her inner thigh, nipping at her soft, pale skin. He takes a deep breath and his eyes almost roll back in his head. He hasn’t seen her in months. Been even longer since he tasted her. “Fuck, it’s true. You canbe cruel. To make me go all this time without tasting this sweet pussy.” She starts to chuckle breathlessly, but it morphs into a quiet sigh at the first press of his mouth on her. “I missed your cunt, y’know that?” She fists his hair and moans quietly. “Come home with me. I’ll spend the rest of my days between your legs.”

“Well, isn’t that a pretty offer.” She tilts her head back and her eyes flutter shut. He licks into her and she finally unclasps the front of her corset. He knows she plans to touch herself, but he reaches up before she has the chance. “Fuck,” she whispers as he rolls a nipple between metal fingers. “Oh, that mouth of yours makes me want to climb in bed with you and never leave,” she gasps. “You make me want to do a lot of things I shouldn’t.”

He slides back up her body and presses his mouth to hers. They kiss while he fumbles to get his dick out. Her hands slide over his and she helps him, uncharacteristically patient. Something changed in her after that confession. Her kisses and her touches are charged with emotion now. He touches his forehead to hers as he slides inside her. It’s burning hot here. Hotter than she ever was in the war. He tucks his face in the crook of her neck and rolls his hips. The keen she replies with and the way she reaches down to dig her fingers into his ass spurs him on.

“Моя луна,” she whispers like a prayer. She runs one hand through his hair and has the other wrapped around his shoulders. His pelvis is rubbing on her right. Her legs are shaking and each hot breath near his ear pitches higher and higher. “Я мечтаю о тебе каждую ночь. Я вою только для тебя. Я тебя хочу. Я не имею права. Волки вечно гоняются за луной.” Then, her body clenches up and she’s coming.

It doesn’t take long for him to follow after her. As he spills inside her, he breathes out, “Quinn.” He leans back so he can stare her in the eyes. He cups her cheek and his heart is in his throat. “Stay with me. Please.” Fear is in her eyes. The first time he’s ever seen it this side of the century. Is she scared because she wants it? It’s so close. She’s so close. “Quinn, baby doll, please don’t leave this time. Come back with me. Make my place a home.”

Quinn doesn’t stay and the kiss she leaves him with tastes like a goodbye, or so she tries to convince herself. But Bucky knows the next time he sees her, she’ll stay.

—

Once upon a time, a heartbroken woman had been lured into the deep, dark woods. Lured by a mindless beast that wore the face of her soulmate. The bastards that took her soulmate wanted to take her, too. They had reasoned she could be the fair maiden to soothe the rabid animal they’d turned her soulmate into. That woman she used to be…she was swallowed up in the darkness. And the darkness won, but her captors sure as hell didn’t. They had no idea. Didn’t know that there are wolves. There are stories about wolves and girls. Girls in red, all alone in the woods, about to get eaten up. Dumb assholes didn’t stop to think that wolves and girls both have sharp teeth.

—

Different person, but the story ends the exact same.

There’s no one in his hotel room when Bucky walks inside, but when he comes out of the bathroom after a shower, Steve is there. Propped back against the headboard. This time, he doesn’t even bother to talk. Just slides off the mattress, pulls his shirt up over his head, and moves into Bucky’s space to furiously kiss him.

So, here Bucky is, on his back. Bottom lip between his teeth as Steve looms above him. Sinuously rolling his hips and Bucky doesn’t think he can get any deeper inside Steve, but goddamn does Steve try. Steve hunches over, touches his cheek against Bucky’s, and Bucky usually takes that as the go-ahead to bend his knees and put his back into it. That doesn’t happen this time, though.

Steve loosely wraps a hand around Bucky’s throat. “You have some nerve, Barnes,” he husks into Bucky’s ear. “To make her cry the way you did. To think you can take her away from me.” Steve squeezes, only a little, only a threat. The danger that suddenly radiates from Steve should not turn Bucky on. “I’ve killed men for less. For simply looking at her. You’re lucky that you fuck me so good. I’d miss your cock too much if I slit your throat here.”

Bucky’s the definition of dumb fuck. The last thing he should do is stoke Steve’s fiery temper. “Jealous, baby boy? You scared she’ll wizen up and take me up on my offer? God forbid she not want her hands bloody anymore.”

Steve chuckles and it’s low and dark and sends sparks up Bucky’s spine. “Do you reallythink that’s my problem? Do you think I don’t want her to have peace? No, you’rethe problem. You—” he catches Bucky by the chin and squeezes so hard Bucky thinks his jaw may break. “You can’t protect her,” he whispers into Bucky’s mouth. “I didn’t have a choice when I went down. You did. You left her all alone, Buck.” Jesus Christ, his boy’s always known how to make it hurt. “I’mthe one who protected her all these years. I have the scars on my back to prove it.” He kisses Bucky, gasping because he’s about to come. “You don’t deserve to have that shield.”

It’s fucked up that that’s the moment Bucky comes. And Steve’s always been hot for having a load inside him as much as their girl, so streaks of white are coating their stomachs the next second. “Fuck, Steve, I know. Don’t I fuckin’ know it.”

[curlicuecal]

Flight Rising infoshare

@onceuponymous wrote:

Hi!  I haven’t been on Flight Rising as much lately because my shitty internet connection makes it frustrating, but I’ll probably come into another phase of going to the site multiple times a day soon.  (I’m super upset I missed the entire shadow festival, especially because that’s MY CLAN’s element).  My username there is the same as it is here: Onceuponymous.  I can’t afford more room in my lair but I really don’t want to exalt/sell any of my babies.  I have way more familiars than is prudent.   I only wrote actual lore for two of my dragons: Genevieve (battle mum whose children keep reminding her to focus on healing please) and Eustace, the alchemist who feels weird about melting all this stuff down but also wants to Make Everything.  I haven’t written it out, but I gave Carrie a Bleak Birdskull Headdress, which the infobox says is cursed, and slowly gave her blackened accessories and Gembond.  During the arcane festival, I “exorcised” her with the runes gene and gave her a bunch of scars.  Someday, I will actually write that story out.

I started off trying to theme name my dragons with old-people names (Genevieve, Harold, Jacqueline) but quickly gave that up because Shortcake looked so much like a strawberry dessert, and Adeline reminded me of a DC comics character, and so on.  I have kind of a rule that I’ll name and raise to level three hatchlings before I exalt them.  Sometimes I get stumped for names, so a set of red and black Skydancers all got named after volcanos, and some guardians with plant crackle got the fanciest word on the wikipedia page for blackberries (Domoic, as in domoic acid) or the scientific name for orange slime mold, Acrasidae.  My sibling Casey is to blame for the one named RickGhastly, a purple ghostly looking Pearlcatcher.

Tundras and Skydancers are my favorite breed, and I love the poison genes because a) I can brew them and gift them to friends and b) colors!

Do you have any system for names?  I noticed Hal and Kurloz, and I can only assume UltraBarney is referencing everyone’s favorite purple dinosaur, but a lot of your dragon names sound like they’d fit in a high fantasy novel.

I spent like 3 days being all uptight-panicky ‘oh no i must pick the PERFECT name for each dragon’ and then I decided that was a recipe for unhappiness, so now I’m a lot more off-the-cuff.

Been doing some latin, been doing a lot of actual-word-based names (Stormcloud, Riptide, Sunscatter). The homestuck is creeping in, as it does everywhere.  

I seem to gravitate towards Mirrors like crazy, and I’m also very fond of the Coatl design.

UltraBarney is my randomly assigned progenitor.  I told my brother he could choose the name, and the dragon did indeed wind up named after the kids’ TV show.  (He...  looks like a muppet.  It’s strange and amusing.   The doofy creature.)

[endlesschange]

The Right Heart: Prologue

A The Royal Romance Fanfic

Warnings: Some swearing and mentions of sex.

Pairings: Prince Liam x Kate Beaumount (mentioned), Drake Walker x Kate Beaumont (mentioned)

Summary: During the social season of Crown Prince Leo’s journey to find a bride and queen, Kate Beaumont can’t help but discuss her own love life with her best friend.

Word Count: 4,803

Prologue: Before the Storm

Katherine Beaumont figured that, by now at least, she should be used to attending courtly functions.

As the youngest member and only daughter of House Beaumont of the duchy of Ramsford, it was somewhat expected for the brunette and her two elder brothers to be in attendance at a whole laundry list of events. From charity auctions to barn buildings, and from palace galas to the elusive Beaumont bashes, the girl didn’t even have to make a guess at whether or not the family would be attending. Her eldest brother, Bertrand, had assumed the title of Duke Ramsford with their father falling ill years ago and while he had once lived it up in the way that most young people did, he had begun almost ruling the events of their family the same way that their father did — and with that came attending a multitude of frivolous events in support of the Crown. 

It was something that Kate and her other brother, Maxwell, had come to terms with a long time ago, having been raised to grow accustomed to. But while Bertrand enjoyed networking and the process of preparing for events and Maxwell just enjoyed a good party no matter the occasion, the youngest Beaumont couldn’t help but feel almost silly standing in the grand ballroom of the palace in a form fitting gown, sipping champagne that probably cost more than the Ramsford estate itself. She figured that by now she should be used to attending courtly functions. But the truth was that she wasn’t at all.

Despite having been born into this life and despite being extremely grateful for everything that life had offered her, there was just something about court and the world that it was that always struck her as . . . odd. She supported Cordonia with every fiber of her being, she loved her home truly she did, but prancing around balls simply to be surrounded by stuffy fellow nobles gave her the royal equivalent of cabin fever. Like Maxwell, she enjoyed a good party and enjoyed seeing her friends all together in one place, but with Bertrand looming over her shoulder at almost every other hour, it felt more like tedious work than actually enjoying herself.

There was a level of eloquence that one must maintain at all Cordonian courtly functions, the ones actually held at the palace especially. Kate knew that Bertrand was always chomping at the bit when it came to her behavior, the eldest Beaumont seeing Maxwell and his antics as a lost cause over the years. Kate was the youngest, someone Bertrand thought that he could control and mold into the model of a perfect lady, even if it meant acting like an asshole.

Preparing for tonight’s event, a ball held in honor of the social season’s beginning, had been an absolute nightmare. Bertrand had run his mouth the entire, grasping tightly onto his high horse as he practically shouted orders to Kate seemingly from the moment she woke up. He was seemingly hell bent on her rubbing shoulders with the exact kind of people that she wanted to avoid. From criticizing her choices in dress to making sure she knew the proper positioning of cutlery, he nearly gave her the third degree. She had nearly fallen asleep during his lecture on fork placement — a speech she had heard far too many times in her short life.

God, she thought to herself as she sipped on champagne, imagine what he would have been like if she was actually involved in this spectacle. She shuddered at the thought.

The spectacle in question was the social season itself. Starting tonight, Crown Prince Leo of Cordonia would begin his search for a wife as well as Cordonia’s future queen. King Constantine had no current plans of stepping down from the throne for his son to ascend, but the social season was Cordonian tradition — and somewhat of a protocol. In order to one day rise the ranks up to king, the Crown Prince had to be married, or at least engaged to be wed. The social season was a circus show for the most part, in Kate’s opinion, noble houses tossing their daughter’s or sponsored suitors into the ring for ring and crown. Over the course of the next few months, Leo would be expected to get to know each lady, whereas the people of the country would be exposed to how each lady acted through the eyes that were the press.

Thankfully for Kate, she had been spared from being a part of this madness. For one, Kate couldn’t ever, ever, in a million years see herself pursuing Leo. The Beaumont children were relatively close to the children of the Crown, having grown up together through court and such. A handful of years Kate’s senior, he was someone she saw simply as a brother figure and nothing more. He was close to Bertrand’s age as well, and once upon a time, when Bertrand actually used to have fun, he and Leo had done a numerous amount of things together. And whatever Bertrand knew about Leo’s past of being a partying playboy, it had set him on a clear path to making sure that the Beaumont family were not sponsoring anyone, especially not his baby sister. It was moments like that in which Kate realized that Bertrand sometimes thought with his actual brain and not his courtly mannerisms.

When Kate had been given that news, she had let out a breath of relief. If there was something that Kate didn’t want, it was a life that would be led for her. Granted, that was pretty much the life she led under Bertrand’s thumb, but the youngest Beaumont had dreams. Running a country and marrying someone that she didn’t love weren’t exactly a part of those dreams. Really, all she wanted was to travel, experience life, and perhaps one day find the heart that was right for her. In a social season with press and royalty and nobles watching her every move? She was certain that she’d be unable to find that heart. She couldn’t picture herself running a kingdom. She couldn’t picture her dealing with that, day after day. Maybe it was because deep down, she didn’t particularly care for the dealings of social classes and the people that came along with it. Maybe it was her naivety, her young age telling her that she wasn’t ready for that kind of commitment to something other than herself. Either way, it wasn’t exactly the life Kate Beaumont wanted to live.

Instead, she watched on as other noble ladies began to try and vie for that life tonight, as did the rest of court. Currently, the ladies participating in this social season were being presented to King Constantine and then Prince Leo himself, the latter looking all too bored with the frivolity of it all. Like most nobles, Leo knew most of the ladies he was being introduced to, the majority of them knew each other through functions just like this one. Clearly his days as the court’s wild child were not behind him. Kate didn’t know whether to pity him or laugh at the expression on his face.

“Countess Madeleine looks as if she has this all wrapped up with a neat little bow,” a voice spoke up from beside Kate, breaking her from her thoughts.

A glance to the side gave Kate a view of Savannah Walker, rolling her eyes at the sight of Fydelia’s countess across the room. Kate snickered into her glass, before giving her best friend a light jab to the ribs with her elbow. “Keep those comments going, Walker, and people are going to begin to forget how starstruck with the nobility you are.”

Savannah narrowed her eyes, but there was a hint of a smile on her lips. Unlike Kate herself, Savannah was born a commoner, the daughter of an American woman and a late member of the King’s Guard who had spent her entire life at court. Kate and Savannah were the same age, so anytime that the Beaumont’s had visited the palace, the two had always found themselves in each other’s company, which had then spawned into a lifelong friendship. Savannah, like her mother before her, was quite frankly enraptured with nobility. Kate wasn’t exactly sure what the appeal was, but Savannah beamed at every chance she had to participate. There was some sort of childlike wonder in her eyes at every event, like she was living out a fairytale. It was something Kate found endearing, though she did her fair share of poking fun at her friend.

“I am not starstruck with the nobility,” Savannah muttered in annoyance. Kate raised an eyebrow. The Walker girl rolled her eyes again. “Okay, well at least not with all of them, like Lord Neville for example.”

The name of the Vancoeur man itself left a sour taste in Kate’s mouth, the girl wrinkling her nose. He tended to mostly stay at Comery Isle, never one to set foot in court unless there was something important going on. But the handful of times that Kate and Savannah had had to deal with the man had done nothing but leave quite possibly the worst impression of him in their minds. “No one is a fan of trash, Savannah.”

Savannah burst into a stream of giggles, not noticing how the nobles that floated by them on the dance floor gave her dirty looks. That was another thing about Savannah that Kate enjoyed, her tendency to not notice the ways that people looked at her or talked about her. As a commoner in a room full of nobles, there were plenty of times where people like Lord Neville had looked down upon her, but Savannah took it in stride. Whether she kept her feelings about that to herself and herself alone or she just didn’t care, the Beaumont girl wasn’t all too sure, but she truly had never seen a non noble handle themselves in such a strong-willed way.

Sighing, Savannah took a sip of her drink. “I just wish there were more . . . charming men around for us to see. I mean, we’re literally standing in a ballroom, Katie, where’s our fairytale romance?”

Kate chuckled. Nodding at the line of ladies waiting to speak to Leo, she said, “Well, as a member of House Beaumont, I could probably pull some strings and get you a place in the social season. Fighting a bunch of catty woman to win over an actual prince, that’s got to have some fairy tale appeal.”

At Kate’s teasing, the Walker girl shuddered. “No offense to Leo, but I’ve heard my brother talk about his particular . . . tastes in the bedroom. I’m not exactly looking for that. Nor do I feel the need to have to deal with Madeleine on a near daily basis.”

“Ah, nobles and their kinks. Warding off potential suitors, most likely since the union of the Five Kingdoms,” Kate chuckled, eyes roving over the crowd that was beginning to gather for dancing. As expected — there was an actual betting pool going on — the Fydelian countess snatched Prince Leo for the first dance without a single warning. Madeleine was an acquired taste (read: a manipulative bitch), but damn, she was good at getting what she wanted. Turning back to her friend, Kate shrugged. “It’s just as well. If I told Bertrand we were going to sponsor someone last second, he might actually have the aneurysm Maxwell’s been predicting for three years.”

At the mention of her eldest brother, Savannah turned a brilliant shade of pink. A smile tugged at her lips and her eyes seemed to sparkle a bit more than they had the previous moment. With just the mention of Bertrand's name, she's been reduced to a schoolgirl with an obvious crush. A crush, by the way, that made Kate want to gag.

“Really, Sav?” Kate groaned, already noticing the way that the girl in questions allowed her eyes to roam the ballroom looking for a particular moody Beaumont brother.

If there was one thing that puzzled Kate endlessly about Savannah Walker, it was her strange fascination with Bertrand. From a young age, it was clear to see that the girl was taken with the Duke. She thought the world of him, like the sweater vest wearing man had hung the moon and the stars himself. Kate figured that, sure, maybe when they were younger it might have been plausible for girls to be attracted to her brother. Before their father's death, Bertrand had been charming and kind, someone people actually wanted to be around. But following the death of Barthelemy, he became somewhat of a colossal asshole, he exact kind of man that Kate wanted to keep her best friend from falling for. Falling for Bertrand seemed to be like driving down a dead end street — once you reached the end of the road, that was it.

Savannah's blush didn't falter, but her voice sure did as she tried to make a retort at her friend. Loudly, a little too loudly actually, she replied, “I don't know what you're talking about!”

“Sure, sure,” Kate replied with a teasing grin and a roll of her eyes. “You definitely don't have a giant crush on my stick in the mud brother.”

“He's not that bad,” her friend told her, her voice quieting down a bit. She looked slightly embarrassed, but refused to voice that particular feeling.

Kate waved her off with her hand. “That's because you've never been on the other end of his extensive the ruination of this house will fall onto your shoulders if you use the wrong fork, Katherine speeches or his Maxwell, if you breakdance one more time in the presence of the Queen kind of threats. You think he's this great, powerful Duke, but he's really just an inconsiderate jerk who gives extensive tongue lashings.”

At the words tongue and lashings, Savannah's blush seemed to grow even deeper, the girl's eyes widening for good measure. Kate stared at her oddly for a moment, wondering what in the actual hell that she had said that caused her to blush so heavily. And then it hit her. Holding herself back from throwing up the minimal contents of her stomach, she gave a shove towards Savannah’s shoulder.

“Oh you know that is so not what I meant,” Kate groaned, shuddering as she tried to ward off those disgusting thoughts. “It’s one thing to swoon over my brother in my presence, it’s another to have your mind in the gutter over him with me standing next to you.”

Savannah spluttered, but there was a measurable amount of mirth in her eyes at the situation. “My mind is not in the gutter over your brother, Katie. He just happens to be an attractive, interesting man that I — ”

“Have scandalous daydreams about, yes we’ve covered that,” the Beaumont girl interjected.

The Walker girl narrowed her eyes. “You’re insufferable. And a little bitter. Maybe you’re the one who needs to start having scandalous daydreams, take the edge off.”

At that, a peal of laughter escaped Kate’s lips. She covered her mouth with her hand for a moment, before she poised a manicured eyebrow at her best friend. “And who do you suppose I start having scandalous daydreams about?”

“Well, we’re in the middle of a crowded ballroom, I’m sure we could find you some sort of eye candy,” Savannah snickered, a twinkle in her eyes as she scanned the crowd. Raising a finger, she discreetly pointed at a somewhat dashing man walking past. “What about him?”

Kate made a face. While she couldn’t for the life of her remember the man’s name — if Bertrand were here, he’d probably whip out his courtly flashcards — she knew that she had met him once before. And that he had been a rude, perverted asshole to anything that breathed. With narrowed eyes and a sharp tongue, she replied, “I’d rather spend my life getting pleasure from my right hand alone then deal with him.”

“I thought you were a respectable lady of the court?” Savannah teased, biting her lip to stifle the laughter that was threatening to pour out.

Kate raised an eyebrow. “You’ve spent enough time at court to know most of these ladies become skilled in the art of . . . self service because they have to deal with the likes of have of these earls and dukes and such.”

“Well, from what I’ve heard, some of them are good in bed. And besides, lets just take sex off the table — is there literally no one here that you’re interested in? I’ve known you nearly my whole life and I swear I’ve never seen you have a crush on someone who wasn’t a celebrity.”

At the mention of the word crush, a flush seemed to creep up the back of Kate’s neck. One, because what Savannah was saying wasn’t anywhere near the truth. While she was right in the sense that nearly all of Kate’s crushes were celebrities (and the occasional fictional character), there had been one instance at court where she had found herself swooning over someone. And two, because the universe clearly wanted to fuck with her, her eyes managed to land on said crush at just that particular moment.

To say that Drake Walker — yes, Savannah’s older brother — was hard to find amidst the dancing couples and conversing dignitaries would be a lie. In fact, the commoner stuck out like a sore thumb, leant up against the far wall in a pair of dark pants and a button down shirt, a far cry from the elaborate suits that the men around him wore. A half drunken glass of whiskey was clutched in his hand and a sour expression was plastered across his face, the signature Drake look. If it weren’t for the fact that his best friend happened to be Prince Liam, the younger brother of Leo, Drake probably wouldn’t have been there at all.

Kate bit her lip as her eyes glanced over him, a little voice in the back of her mind nudging her to remember how taken she had been with him for a week during her fifteenth year. The long and short of it was that at one visit to the palace, there had been a near tragic accident in the stables that involved Kate and one of the newer horses at the time. Kate, like her brothers, had grown up riding in equestrian competitions and felt at home around horses, but the newest steed had clearly not appreciated her over confidence. Ten seconds later, the horse had charged at her only for her brother’s best friend to dart out of another stall and coax the horse into calm, pretty much saving Kate from being trampled. At the time, he had been newly eighteen, the summer before he left for his brief stint at college, and for some reason, Kate had been over the moon with him for the following days. And then he had made a rude comment about her brothers and the nobility in general — a classic Drake tactic — and the crush had disappeared as quick as it came.

Her silly little schoolgirl crush on Drake had been something that she had never disclosed to anyone, especially not Savannah. The crush had been short lived, maybe a week and a day, and it had been mostly centered around the fact that Drake had practically saved her life. For a short period of time, she viewed him heavily as her ruggedly handsome knight in shining armor. There had never been any actual feelings, no substance behind the fact that she had briefly liked to drool over the man who seemed to have an easier time drinking his weight in whiskey than he did conversing with other human beings. So because of that, she hadn’t disclosed the feelings to anyone. Savannah was far different than Kate herself and Kate knew without a shadow of a doubt that the first thing out of her best friend’s mouth would be how she’d talk her up to Drake and how the two would actually be sisters if the two were to get together. 

Yeah, that would never happen, Kate thought to herself as she watched the man take another sip of whiskey. She turned back to her friend. Muttering, Kate told her, “I don’t have crushes on any of these people because I’ve known half of them since childhood and half of them are complete assholes.”

Savannah shrugged, taking another sip of her drink. “Not everyone you’ve known since childhood is a jerk. For one, there’s the Prince.”

Furrowing her brow, Kate replied, “If I wanted to go after Leo, I’d be battling it out with Madeleine at the moment.”

“I meant Liam, dumbass,” Savannah responded. “He’s always had a soft spot for you. And he’s incredibly well mannered and honestly? Looks like he’d know what to do in more intimate situations.”

At the mention of Prince Liam, Kate couldn’t help but groan. It wasn’t exactly like this was the first time that her friend had ever brought up the notion of the two dating. God, Bertrand might just have a coronary from pure excitement if he ever found out that there was a chance that his little sister and the King’s second son could possibly enter a relationship. Kate could just imagine it now, the way he’d bust out all of his infamous lectures on courting and being a prim and proper lady.

It wasn’t much of a secret that Liam had harbored a little bit of a crush on the only Beaumont girl — at least, it wasn’t much of a secret in their social circle. If any of the elder members of court knew, that was beyond Kate’s knowledge. But when it came to Maxwell and Drake and Savannah, Liam’s little soft spot for Kate wasn’t unheard of. Kate figured that she should be flattered, thrilled even, to have a potential chance with an actual prince, someone who could further her own social standing and allow her to live out a fairytale. And yes, maybe a small part of her was a bit flattered — Liam was a kind and handsome man — but she wasn’t exactly sure that was the kind of situation that she’d want to put herself in. It would be a situation where she knew she’d feel like she being forced into it. Surely Bertrand would never let her have a purely romantic, feelings based relationship with Liam if she wanted. He’d be hounding her every day and night, making sure she was using her relationship to better House Beaumont.

So, much like she wasn’t interested in courting his brother, Kate didn’t have much of a desire to court Liam either. It wasn’t that Savannah was wrong — again, Liam was one of the sweetest people that Kate had ever come across in her life, even if he had every reason to turn out like an entitled bastard. He also wasn’t bad looking, with his dark hair and charming smile. She knew that across Cordonia, Liam was crushed on and lusted over heavily by most women and men. But being interested in Liam was a road she’d rather not travel down, despite the fact that Savannah couldn’t seem to get that through her head.

“I don’t want to crush on or fantasize over Liam,” Kate muttered in annoyance, glancing down at her empty champagne glass. Shit.

“Well, you’d better figure out a way to put that nicely because he’s headed over here with my brother right now,” Savannah laughed.

Kate glanced up, feeling almost like a deer in headlights when she realized that Savannah wasn’t lying. Prince Liam made his way over, the picture perfect model of grace and charm. Drake, on the other hand, followed behind him with his usual bored expression plastered across his face.

The two men came to a stop in front of the two women, but only two of the four were smiling. Liam had an effortless grin etched across his lips, while Savannah beamed endlessly at the prince and her brother. Drake still looked bored. And Kate still wore a mildly distressed expression on her face, wondering what in the actual world could have brought them over here.

Seeing as no one else was going to break the silence, Liam took the lead. “Ladies,” he greeted, giving each girl a nod.

“Your Highness,” Savannah replied with a grin, a joking edge to her tone. After all their years being friends, the girl sometimes still addresses her brother’s friend in professional terms, even if Liam had told her a thousand times to call him just Liam. Before he could make that remark, she tossed a look in her brother’s direction. “Hey big brother.”

Drake grunted out a greeting and gave Kate a barely discernible nod. She rolled her eyes. But she gave him a smile nonetheless and did the same for his current companion.

The smile seemed to make Liam’s expression sparkle. “Lady Katherine — ”

“Liam, we’ve been over this — every time you call me Lady Katherine, I lose roughly six years off my life,” the Beaumont girl joked.

“My apologies, Kate. I’ve spent the entire evening greeting everyone by title, it’s a hard habit to break,” the prince joked. Then, he offered his hand. “They’re about to start the next waltz. Would you care for a dance?”

Without even breaking a sweat, Kate gave him a sad smile. “I’m actually not in a dancing mood. But I’m sure Savannah would love to accompany you, wouldn’t you Savannah?”

Savannah gave her a scowl, before brightly turning to the prince who was trying his best not to look like a kicked puppy. Shoving her half empty glass into Kate’s empty hand, the Walker girl took Liam’s outstretched hand. “I’d be delighted to dance with you.”

If Liam was even mildly disappointed at dancing with the girl he didn’t ask, he hid it exceptionally well. That was an art that most Cordonian nobles knew well. He whisked her off to the dance floor just as the music queued up, the two soon disappearing amidst the other dancing couples. Kate bit her lip, feeling like a bit of a bitch, but she shoved that down as she disposed of her empty glass on a passing waiter’s tray, bringing herself to drink the rest of Savannah’s glass.

“You know, you break his heart a little more every time you turn him down for a dance,” a voice spoke, bringing Kate to realize that Drake was still stood beside her. He had taken Savannah’s now empty spot, leaning against the wall much like he had done across the room. But now he was giving her a look, one that told her that he knew exactly what she had been doing when she sent Savannah out on that dance floor.

“Spare me the over protective best friend speech, Walker. I’m just not in the mood for dancing tonight.”

“That’s what you said the last time.”

“Don’t you have somewhere else to go be miserable?”

Drake scoffed, but there was a hint of a smirk on his lips. “If I’m miserable, then so are you. Maybe even more. You’ve been moping the entire night. And unfortunately, Katie,” he drawled, using his sister’s nickname for the Beaumont girl in a sarcastic manner, “Misery loves company.”

She rolled her eyes at him, briefly wondering how in the hell she had ever managed to have a crush on him. Kate didn’t hate Drake, to make it clear. In fact, she sort of considered him a friend (she was smart not to brand him a best friend like Maxwell had, but Maxwell had never been one to grasp the fact that Drake generally wanted to push him off a cliff). But he was just the right brand of annoying that Kate didn’t want to deal with tonight. 

Tipping the glass of champagne towards her mouth, she downed the rest of Savannah’s drink in one fell swoop. Eyes cast out to the dance floor, she couldn’t help but already begin waiting for this social season to come to a close, so that everything could calm down.

But unfortunately for Kate, she would come to learn a year later that Leo’s social season was in fact the calm. The last bit of comfort before a whole season of heartache and pain and mixed emotions. Right now, she was calm, calmer than she would be in a years time. For it truly was always the calmest before the storm.

Tag List: @goldenraines @museofbooks

[turdblossommm]

Waves {3}

Summary: You couldn’t stand to be in the same vicinity of Bucky Barnes, despite being in the same friend group. But events transpire and you’ve become unlikely friends. Will it ever become more or will they just be stuck and unmoving? (College AU)

Pairing: Reader x Bucky (Kinda a slow burn), Reader x Rumlow

A/N: Hey guys here’s another part, I’m not really a big fan of it but I hope you guys like it. I also have more tests and assignments coming the closer we get to summer.

Masterlist

“You’re cheating on me!” You exclaimed as Brock climbed off Dot “You whore” You pointed at her and that made you angrier, that she was doing this to someone as sweat and great as Bucky. You walked away from the room as people started to poke their heads out of their rooms to investigate the yelling. You quickly walked down the stairs and avoided the stares of people

“Baby is wasn’t what it looked like” Brock grabbed your arm and you pulled it from his grip as you reached the end of the stairs

“Don’t fucking touch me” You snarled 

“Woah, what’s going on?” Bucky walked into the living room

“Stay out of it Barnes” Brock growled and turned back to you “Listen to me and let me explain what happened. It wasn’t what it looked like”

“Wasn’t what it looked like?” You yelled “You were fucking balls deep in that whore, what am I supposed to pretend I didn’t know what was happening? You were just checking her vagina out? making sure everything was okay? Fuck no, I’m pretty sure Bucky does that every other fucking night!” You were fuming

“Baby” Brock grabbed your hand and you slapped it away

“Don’t fucking touch me” You walked away from him “And tell Dot she has until the weekend to get out” You slammed the front door and jogged to the sorority to grab your car. You shot a May a text saying you wouldn’t make it and that you were sorry and put the car in drive.

Bucky stood dumbfound by what just unfolded, Dot was cheating on him and he didn’t even notice. He was so wrapped up with Y/N that he kinda forgot he had a girlfriend. He looked at Rumlow and it took everything out of him not to hit him, not for Dot but for hurting Y/N. You don’t deserve this. Bucky saw Dot climb down the stairs toward him and he walked back up the stair and towards where he saw Peter go. He knocked on the kids door

“Come in” Bucky enter the messy room and looked at the kid, he had the same eyes as you.

“You think your sister’s going to be okay?” Bucky asked him and he nodded

“Yeah, she tough. We’ve been through a lot and this isn’t even close to the worse of it” He scoffed “I told her he wasn’t good for her, but she like things that are bad for her. She never listens” He kicked the bed and Bucky put a hand on his shoulder

“Take it easy bud” They sat on the bed

“You should go after her, she’s a runner but a bad one. She goes to the same place every time something happens, I don’t know if you get anything out of her. She likes you so I think you might, but she tends to like to suffer in silence” Bucky nodded, he had to go after you and make sure you were okay at the least.

“Where’d she go?” Bucky asked and Peter wrote down the address

“It’s a little beach cottage our dad bought and never finished, she goes there” Bucky took the paper and looked at Peter

“She’ll be okay” Peter gave him a weak smile

“I know, she’s strong” Bucky turned to leave the room “Bucky?” Peter asked and Bucky spun around “Can you hit Rumlow, I’d do it but I’d get pummeled after it” Bucky cracked a smile and nodded

“Don’t worry about it kid, he’ll get what he deserves” Peter gave him a nod and Bucky walked to Rumlow’s room and pushed the door open.

“Thought you’d come here” Rumlow smiled “Heer to avenge your girlfriend?” He smirked

“Ex-girlfriend” Bucky corrected “No, I’m here for Y/N, because you lost one of the greatest human being and I just wanted to remind you of that” Bucky balled his fist and swung at Rumlows face, he heard the sickening crunch of his nose and stepped out of the room and into his and Steve’s room. He quickly threw clothes in a bag and looked at his best friend

“I’ll be back” Steve smiled as he watched his best friend run out of the room. Bucky plugged the address in his GPS and started the drive to the beach.

The wind whipped your hair around your head as you inhaled the smell of the ocean, this smelled like home. You loved the cottage, May never wanted to come here. It reminded her of her dead brother and now husband. Your dad bought it at an auction and started to fix it up and expanded it a little. When he and your mom died it went to you and Ben started to finish it, but he died too.

Everyone dies or leave, you think while you wallow in the self pity. You don’t understand why you have such bad luck, why everyone leaves. What did you do to deserve this, whatever it was you’d kill to go back and change it.

Some days you wish you’d walk up ten again and your parents were still alive. When you were happy, it had been so long since you’d been genuinely happy. You were stupid to think that Brock could bring you anything close to happiness.

But in the very few moments you were happy, Bucky was there. He seems to always be there for you now, no matter what he’d come rescue you whenever you started hating yourself. It was like a sixth sense for him. You don’t know how he did it, but he found a way to make you happy and put cracks in your insanely hard walls you built. What you felt for Bucky came close to what you think is real love.

You stepped close to the edge of the cliff and watched the waves crash over the rocks, you loved the ocean. You didn’t know how long you stood watching the waves, that’s why you loved coming here. Time didn’t mean anything, there was no where you had to be, no one telling you what to do

“Y/N?” You were snapped out of you thoughts when you heard your name. You spun around to see Bucky standing five feet from you

“What are you doing here?” You looked at him in shock

“Let’s go inside doll, you’ll catch something out here” You looked down at your soaked clothes, you didn’t even notice it had started to rain. You glanced back at the cliff and walked away and led Bucky down the long drive way toward the little cottage. 

“How did you find me?” You asked as you kicked the boots off and turned on the lights to reveal the rustic furnishing of the cottage. 

“You’re brother told me you’d probably be here” Bucky took in the small house while you set the kettle on the stove top and turned it on, and quickly walked back out in the rain to grab a couple logs and threw them in the fireplace with some paper and attempted to light a match.

“Doll” Bucky took the matches from your hands “I’ve got this, you change into dry clothes” He took the matches from your hands and you grabbed a pair of sweats and a hoodie. You waited for the water to warm up and then stepped into the shower. once you were warm and clean you stepped out and head to the living room where Bucky sat with two cups of tea on the coffee table

“I didn’t know what kind” He motioned to the tea and you left out a small laugh

“May liked the aesthetic of having multiple jars, but they’re all the same tea” You sat next to him and leaned into his side and he wrapped his arm around you “Are you okay? With the whole Dot thing” You asked and he nodded

“It wasn’t a serious relationship Y/N” He looked down at you, Bucky hated seeing you so broken and hurt “Are you okay?” You nodded and pause for a few seconds and shook your head as a tear slipped down your cheek. You felt his hot thumb wipe it away

“You want to talk about it?” He asked and you looked away 

“Are you hungry?”

“Y/N” He sighed 

“I can’t sit on a couch and tell you how I feel like you’re a therapist, I need to do something with my hands” Using your hands would distract you sub conscious from actually realizing what your saying. You learned to do it from a therapist May sent you and Peter to as kids.You walked into the kitchen and he followed you. You pulled a whole chicken from the fridge and a few potatoes and started cutting

“Want help? Bucky asked and you shook your head and he sat down at the bar

“When I was 10 I got in a car accident with my parents, they died and I didn’t. It was my fault they were driving, I was at a sleepover and got scared and made them come and get me. I barely had a scratch on me and they died. I’ve always felt like Peter and May blamed me. Hell I do too” You wiped your nose with your sleeve

“Doll, that was no way it was your fault. It was an accident” You looked up at him

“An accident that never would’ve happened if I didn’t beg them to come get me” You seasoned the chicken and threw the potatoes in the pot and placed it in the oven. “My aunt May and uncle Ben took Peter and I in afterwards. They didn’t have kids and lived in the city so Peter and I shared a bunk bed until I left for college, that’s why were so close. Then my senior year uncle Ben was shot and killed by junkie for eight dollars in his wallet” You scrubbed the dishes in the sink and avoided eye contact with Bucky. You leaned over the sink and squeezed your eyes shut to keep form crying. You felt his arms wrap around your waist, you spun around and buried your face in his chest as a sob racked through your body

“It’s okay” Bucky ran his fingers through your wet hair. It broke his heart to hear your cries and all the people you lost in life.

“Everyone leaves Buck” You whispered once your cries subsided “My parents, my uncle, I’m surprised Peter is still around” You hiccuped and Bucky held you tighter

“I’ll always be here for you Y/N. Until the sun burns out and this world ceases to exist, I will be by your side forever. You’ve shown me something that I’ve never thought was real, something that only existed in books before” Bucky whispered into your hair and you pulled out head back to look at him, look deep into his blue orbs

“Bucky” You breathed “I feel things for you in a very real and very scary way, but I’m in no position to be with someone. I’m not whole right now nor in the right mind space and I can’t burden you with that“ You placed your hand on his cheek

“You wouldn’t burden me” Bucky leaned into your hand “I will be with you and love you while you learn to love yourself. I know it won’t be smooth sailing, there will be bumps in the road. But I promise I will always be here for you, even when you don’t want me to be” Bucky wiped away the fat tears that fell down your cheeks. His words left you speechless, you couldn’t comprehend words. He leaned his forehead against yours

“I can’t promise you’ll be happy Bucky and I can’t do that to you”

“If you loved someone, you loved him, and when you had nothing else to give, you still gave him love.” 

“Did you just quote 1984 by George Orwell” You asked and he nodded

“It’s your favorite book” You smiled and whispered

“You’re something else Bucky Barnes”

Taglist

@xcriminalmastermindx @void-imaginations @myrabbitholetoneverland @buckymorelikefuckmebarnes @daniyell619

[akanemachurida-blog]

18/01/10 - Muishiki no Iro Release Day Noon Live Report

I went to the Muishiki no Iro release live on January 10 at Zepp Nagoya. There were two lives that day, one in the afternoon starting at 4pm and the other at night starting at 7:30pm. The doors opened an hour before then.

I actually failed my applications for both of those times online and I really felt bad since those lives were on Maya’s birthday. You could apply to both and up to two tickets, but I only applied for one ticket. What most people did was pair up with a friend and apply for two tickets each. That way if one got in they could give it to the other. Unfortunately this created a surplus of tickets for people who already had some, and I got none. I bought my ticket on Yahoo Auctions but I initially was really skeptical about it since the ticket said you needed to provide three pieces of ID and all the sellers crossed off a part on the ticket. I thought they crossed out names but they were crossing out the specific number as well as the place they printed the ticket from. After verifying with a friend I bought my ticket and the buyer mailed it to me.

Unfortunately that ticket’s number was in the 1700s, which meant I was one of the last to get in. I think there were 2000 tickets given out in total for each live. This ticket was for the afternoon live and I didn’t get one for the evening live since all the other sellers looked suspicious and didn’t offer a rapid means of sending the ticket.

You needed to buy a Muishiki no Iro limited edition single for the ticket inside for the event, since it was free (for those who got their tickets legitimately). I went to HMV to buy the single since you get a guaranteed picture of Churi there. Of course I got Maya as the random member inside! 3600 people went to the two lives, meaning there were 400 tickets unused.

I got lost and arrived at Zepp about thirty minutes before it started, which was much later than I wanted. It turns out that they were still letting people in the 1200s in at that point, so it really didn’t matter. I met some people in the line who I met two years ago during my first handshakes in Osaka. I hadn’t talked to them much but they remembered I was Canadian and was a Churi oshi. As usual I was called a DD when I told them I like Maya too. It’s funny how easily people remember me since I look different. I know some Japanese fans who go to countless events and yet their fellow fans don’t even recognize them lol.

I actually thought that my ticket number was an assigned spot/seat, however it was a first come first served basis. Zepp’s ground floor is all standing, but there is a small seated section on the second floor. When I got in I entered one of the doors in the back of the venue and I couldn’t see anything at all since I was among the last to enter. I asked some staff if I could go up but the seats were totally filled so I couldn’t go there. They don’t let anyone stand up there.

This was my original view:

Not a lot of fun right? I left and entered the next door. There are several doors that give access to the hall on both sides, so I sort of tried them out to see where there were less people. Surprisingly the one second from the last had the best view for me.

Here is a picture taken during the first MC. I circled myself. You can draw a straight line from me to Maya on this picture I guess. Isn’t that cool?

By the way, there was a reserved section for women near the front on the right side. I knew a few people who stood there and they said they had an amazing view. I think I had a good view where I was since I was behind them, and as women tend to be shorter than men I had a good view of half of the stage. I really couldn’t see the right side though.

This live had a much different atmosphere to it than the Laguna one I went to. Given the fact that we were in a room with closed doors and a roof rather than outdoors the calls were much louder, as was the recorded music. The Laguna live felt like they were singing live for certain songs but here the sound quality was pretty poor, as was expected. Women were much more visible at the Laguna live since there wasn’t a designated section for them there. It felt like the crowd was even more overwhelmingly male (which it always is) due to this.  

Nakki and Maya were the shadow announcers for the beginning, so I got to wish her a happy birthday when she asked us to wish her one. I was happy I got to do that at least.

M01 - Muishiki no Iro / Senbatsu

No surprise here for the first song. I actually hadn’t planned it out, but I was perfectly situated to see Maya on the stage, since I was right in front of her position for this song. Unfortunately I couldn’t see Churi since she was on the other side of the stage. I had come to support them both but since it was Maya’s birthday I just had my green penlight, and Churi couldn’t see me anyway.

M02 - SKE48 / All

This song is a lot of fun in a group. The part where everyone says S-K-E / 4-8 is great. I could see Maya perfectly for this song too, and it may have been my imagination but I think she saw me during this song.

MC1

The senbatsu members left for this. I think I have a big problem paying attention to MCs during these bigger events. I’ll just go ahead and admit it, whenever I can’t see the member who is talking I zone out and just think about Maya and the previous songs. Actually during this MC Yukichan/Chikako/Juna/Yumana were ahead of me so I just looked at them while daydreaming. Chikako is pretty interesting to look at during lives, since she tries to find as many of her fans as possible. She was also constantly talking with Juna and Yukichan and Yumana was making confused expressions and trying to follow along. I think Chikako found about twenty of her fans during this MC, and that group was just constantly chatting since they weren’t part of the talking group. It was pretty entertaining, like watching some students talk during class when they’ve finished their homework and have nothing to do.

This was also the first live I went to where I was near one of those screamers you hear. The ones who yell in a really shrill voice at all times. They look and act just as you’d expect. This guy was shouting Jurina’s name every single time she was there and he left in a rush after it ended.

M03 - Tsuyokimonoyo / Senbatsu

No guesses for what happened during this song. Again, Maya was in my view so I just stuck to her the entire time.

M04 - Aozora Kataomoi / Jurina, Minarun, Sarina, Churi, Nao, Kaotan, Akarin

Alright, so they got rid of Maya so I can focus on Churi for this song, except she was still on the other side of the stage. I kept angling my neck around for this song to try and look at her but no luck. I sort of looked at the screen for this song since it was hard to look at the middle of the stage. Anyway, great song live.

M05 - Gomen ne, Summer / Rara, Ryoha, Ego, Yunana, Sakipon, Kumachan, Maya

We’re back baby … we’re back. No need to try and angle my neck around for this song because once again she stood in the perfect place for me. Nothing to add that hasn’t been said before… just perfect.

M06 - 1!2!3!4! Yoroshiku! / Minarun, Akarin, Wanchan, Piyosu, Suzuran, Oshirin, Yumana, Nao, Reona, Nakki, Rara, Makiko, Ouchan, Donchan, Nonochan, Morihei Riko

I think this is my favourite live song out of the better known single songs they perform, it’s got a lot of energy. I didn’t even really pay attention to who was there, I was just calling out everyone’s name and enjoying myself.

M07 - Banzai Venus / Sakipon, Yuzuki, Renahyuu, Piyosu, Kocchan, Sarina, Yumana, Nacchi, Kaotan, Airi, Yukatan, Naruchan, Satokaho, Maya, Hatagon, Tani

I spent the first thirty seconds of the song trying to see if Maya was in it. When I found her I was on lock-on mode and she thankfully stayed near my side for this song. She was really funny during this song, making a lot of faces and laughing.

MC2 - Kamimura Ayuka, Aiai, Kano, Oshirin, Mikotti, Yuzuki, Kaotan, Nakki, Makiko, Tani

The matome site tells me that they were talking about bonus scenes for the MVs. I remember Makiko saying something funny but let’s be real, I was daydreaming again.

M08 - Handshaeteki Suru / Love Crescendo

Unfortunately Maya was on the opposite side for most of this song, but I mustered my energy, craned my head, used my toes, and made every possible effort to look at her for this song. It sort of worked.

M09 - Because Docchitsukazu / Kosanga 7 (Tani center)

This unit doesn’t have an MV but they’re great. I like how they gave Suzuran an outfit to show off her shoulders. This was great to watch since they won’t get much exposure.

M10 - Furanu Romance / Sakura Love Letter 32 (Ouchan center)

First time I heard the 32 person song. It is a lot to take in live due to the amount of members but it’s fun. Honestly it was a bit of a sensory overload since I was trying to keep track of as many members as I could.

MC3 - Ryoha, Ego, Yunana, Ruka, Sarina, Nao, Kumachan

Same old story.

M11 - Pareo wa Emerald / Kenkyuusei (Inoue Ruka center)

A real treat to see the kenkyuusei do this song. It just felt like the perfect performance for them, even if this song has been done a million times and will be done a million more. It fit the moment and all the members looked great from where I was standing.

M12 - Okidoki / Kamimura Ayuka, Aiai, Piyosu, Suzuran, Mikotti, Narupi, Honono, Reona, Narucham, Makiko, Ouchan, Maya, Akarin, Saanan, Tani, Donchan

Just like 1234 Yoroshiku this song also pumps me up a lot, regardless of the timing. It was nice that Maya was there, and in a place I could see her well too. She was really lively during this song and kept looking around my area during the parts where they pump their fists.

M13 - Kataomoi Finally / KII

Wow! Was this the first time I saw Churi in Katafai? I actually had a lot of trouble seeing her since she was in the center, but I didn’t want to miss her so I kept looking at the screen for this song. It took something away from my viewing experience but I wanted to view the performance in its entirety. It was everything I expected.

M14 - Aishiteraburu! / Yokonyan, Chikako, Juna, Oshirin, Yukichan, Ayamelo, Kitano Ruka, Sarina, Sakipon, Yuzuki, Reona, Nakki, Kumachan, Saanan, Tani, Donchan

I don’t really like this song but I had a ton of fun with the calls! I was zoning out a bit in terms of the members and just looked ahead of me at whoever happened to be there.

M15 - Kiss datte Hidarikiki / Yokonyan, Makiko, Ego, Yunana, Renahyuu, Inoue Ruka, Kano, Miyo, Machi, Chikako, Kitano Ruka, Sakipon, Airi, Yukatan, Maya, Saanan

I was pretty tired at this point. It took me a while to locate Maya I think. This song is pretty boring live, but again, I just looked at Maya.

MC4 / Everyone

They handed out some signed posters during this MC. They designated members for each of the teams to reach into a box and pull out ticket numbers. I didn’t know where my ticket was so I was searching for it the whole time. Turns out it was in my pocket. My number wasn’t called anyway. The posters were signed by the team which drew the number.

M16 - Muishiki no Iro / All

I was a bit surprised. I was expecting Igai ni Mango but whatever. I didn’t mind hearing it again, given that the event was for this song’s release. Everyone was there this time so it was a bit harder to see Maya but she was in my field of vision still. I had no view of Churi as usual.

Maya stayed near our area for the end. Just like last time she tried to find her fans. She started with the people on the right/middle of the audience, but there seemed to be fewer there. Most of the fans were around the left side it seems. There were a lot of people, but she waved at me, pointing out my lightstick and smiling. I don’t know if she saw who I was but she noticed the lightstick for sure. I think that the benefit of being on the ground floor over the second floor is that the members wave to you first. It is rather hard to see the top seats I suppose.

This live was a complete change from Laguna in that this live only had group songs and no small units. I’m glad I got to experience these two different kind of lives. I also technically saw Churi at a SKE concert/live so I can cross that off my list, although I’d much prefer being somewhere where I could see her properly.

Afterwards I met people who were going to the evening live. From their accounts it seemed like a lot of fun, especially since they addressed Maya’s birthday a lot more. I also saw people on Twitter write accounts of them seeing members leave afterwards. Churi had to leave immediately afterwards with Ryoha and Akarin for ANN. As a side note, my green lightstick is bent now. I don’t know the reason but maybe it is a sign that I am excited by Maya’s presence lol.

[marjaystuff]

Elise Cooper interviews Maisey Yates, Catlin Crews, Nicole Helm and Jackie Ashenden

A Cowboy For All Seasons written by the cowgirl quartet, Maisey Yates, Caitlin Crews, Nicole Helm, and Jackie Ashenden is billed as an anthology, but is actually a compilation since the four stories flow into one riveting plot.  It will remind readers of the Dixie Chick song “Cowboy Take Me Away,” as they are swept up by the characters and plot line. The four heroines tangle with their hard headed cowboys as they find love, healing, and the true meaning of family.

After her passing, June Gable sent to all four of her grandchildren a handwritten bequest, to spend a season at her beloved farmhouse in Jasper Creek, Oregon, before they sell it. These cousins were once as close as sisters, but time and family betrayals have pushed them apart. Grandma June knew her grandchildren had eyes for only one man, so she orchestrated matchmaking scenarios to bring the couples together.

Spring has Keira Long returning to her small hometown after successfully making it in the big city of Seattle. Grandma June has asked her to work alongside Remy West to tend to the land and cattle. But in doing so she must come to grips with her first true love, a relationship she broke up to find her independent way.  This is a story of second chances at romance with her true love. Coming in the way is the family parental issues that both must come to grips with and overcome.

Summer has childhood friends, JJ Frost and Cade Matthewson, coming together to help his two daughters, Lora and Ellie, have a fun summer vacation. Having experienced something similar to what the girls are going through JJ understands the feeling of abandonment by a mother.  Both Cade and JJ must allow each other to share their feelings as they open up their hearts.

Fall has Lila Frost optimistically returning to plan the Red Star Holiday Bizarre. Grandma June asked her to take it over and to work with Everett McCall whose ranch is where it will be held.  Lila had a crush on Everett as a child and wonders if he sees her as a woman.  Will both be able to overlook their ten-year gap in age? Lila must help him take down the wall he has built to protect himself from being hurt by others. Besides trying to repair the relationship with Everett she also is trying to figure out how to reconnect with her sister JJ.

Winter has Bella Jackson returning.  She is probably the most broken of all the cousins. Isolated by her mother from the rest of the family including Grandma June she has to learn how to ask for help.  Willing to ignore her requests to do everything on her own, Noah Faraday steps in to repair the farmhouse and both his and her emotions.

The thread that ties all these stories together is reconnecting. Each of the heroines needs to reunite with one another and to forge a relationship with their lost loves.  These stories blended together as one even though there were four different authors, allowing readers to take a journey with the characters as they try to reunite with each other.

Elise Cooper: How did you get the idea?

Maisey Yates:  I was talking to Nicole and joked about book pitches.  I was totally kidding, but the next day I started thinking about the possibility of writing a story centered around four people staying at a farmhouse.  I texted the other authors, and got them on board.  We actually had an auction to see which publishing house would get the story.  

Maisey, Nicole, Caitlin, Jackie:  It came out of the fact we were all friends.  We shared everything we wrote. It just seemed to flow together and felt very organic.  

Caitlin Crews:  Nicole wrote those wonderful grandmother letters that started off each story. Jackie wrote the first story so we knew where we were all going.  

EC:  Since there was a crossover of characters how did that work?

Jackie Ashenden: Since they were all in my story, I wrote the other heroines and asked each author if what I wrote was out of character, but no one rewrote the lines.  We all knew each other’s character very well.  

EC:  How about the seasons, how did that come about?

Caitlin:  Maisey came up with the year of the cowboy.  I thought since it is a year let’s break it into seasons.  The original title was The Year of the Cowboy.

Nicole Helm:  I chose summer because my hero has two children.  I wanted them to be a large part of the story and did not want them to be in school.  

Maisey:  I love the season of fall.  It was October when we pitched it and as I was driving by my daughter’s school, I saw the sign, “Red Star Holiday Bizarre.” I ripped off the name and used it in the book.

Jackie:  They thought to give me winter because it was freezing and sad.  I had never written about snow or Christmas so I found it challenging.  Thankfully, everything magically fell into place.

EC:  How did the farmhouse come about?

Maisey:  Some of us were staying at a farmhouse in Illinois.  It was very similar to the one Caitlin’s husband drew for us.  In this book, with the farmhouse, it felt a bit mystical.  It was funny, how we all had the same farmhouse in our heads.

EC:  How would you describe Grandma June?

Nicole:  Even though she was a great grandmother, her daughters were not great mothers.  I knew people who were not great parents, but learned from their past mistakes.  I also think that sometimes we cannot control how people turn out.  I think June was outspoken, accessible, salty, and brave.  She could not go back in time but did try to make changes for the future. Like the four cousins, I miss my grandparents so much.  What a great thing it would be to have a magic farmhouse.  My grandmother had a paperweight that I used in the story.  I put in tidbits that reminded me of my grandma.  

Caitlin:  Both my grandparents have passed.  I dedicated this story to them.  I would love to be able to communicate with them.

EC:  How would you describe the parents?

Caitlin:  Most of the parents were selfish and self-centered.  They cared more about themselves than their children.  

EC:  How would you describe Bella, Noah, and their relationship?

Jackie:  BELLA is stubborn, determined, vulnerable, kind, and guarded.  She is like most of my   heroes.

NOAH is grumpy, a man of few words, a loner, and protective.

THEIR RELATIONSHIP is based on a connection both tried to deny.  Bella doesn’t want Noah around because she is ashamed of the terrible crush she has on him.

EC:  How would you describe Keira, Remy, and their relationship?

Caitlin:  KEIRA is elegant.  She is a lost-soul and fragile but would argue with that description.  Because she is the first one to live in the farmhouse she is grieving a bit more than the others who had more time to process. Being the oldest she tended to have a slightly different relationship with her grandmother.  Some grandmothers favor the oldest.

REMY is angry, heart-broken, hard-headed, and basically a cowboy.

THEIR RELATIONSHIP has two different parts, one they had and one they will have. The previous one was destined to fall apart because they could not communicate, had secrets, and they were so young.  The one today looks back at the failures of the first time, which enabled them to build a stronger structure going forward. They became friends before lovers.

EC:  How would you describe JJ, Cade, his daughters, and their relationship?

Nicole:  JJ is serious, practical, and sometimes tries to hide her emotional hurt. She is compulsive and not a dreamer, with a focus on being helpful.  

CADE’s main focus is to be a good dad. He is responsible.

LORA and ELLIE are aware that their mom left them.  The older one is snarkier and grumpier.  The younger one is a dreamer.

RELATIONSHIP WITH THE GIRLS was based on my family. JJ first thought of herself as just a baby-sitter.  But she became emotionally involved because what the girls went through was similar to her own backstory.  She is reliving her past through them because she lost her relationship with her sister.  

CADE and JJ’s RELATIONSHIP was really good for each other.  At first, JJ and Cade were very guarded because they were hurt in the past.  They rely on each other and then let the attraction take over.  They developed a friendship first.

EC:  How would you describe Lila, Everett, and their relationship?

Maisey:  LILA feels she has boundless options and can always make things turn out OK. She wanted to be an optimist instead of being like her mother who was sad and bitter.  Everett was the first time that did not happen.  She is determined, cheerful, optimistic, creative, and impetus.  

EVERETT has the need to think that controlling the outcome will make things turn out all right.  He is responsible, practical, and a realist.  

THEIR RELATIONSHIP had them both butting heads since they are control freaks.  They have a ten-year gap in their age difference.  Lila saw him as a fantasy at first, but then realizes he has his own issues.  Both had to overcome barriers. Everett tried to protect himself from the bad things but also the good things.  They realized that if there was to be a long-term commitment there will be ups/downs and give and take. I wrote this book quote, “Love wasn’t just rainbows, and fairy-tale endings.  Love was acceptance.  Love was patient. Love was fifty-fifty. Love bore burdens. Love hoped.  Love believed.”

EC:  Do you have Christmas decorations like you wrote about?

Jackie:  When I was writing that scene, I thought about the Christmas decorations I have.

EC:  There is a quote about cities.  Are you a country girl or a city gal?

Caitlin:  You are referring to the book quote, “Country roads, sooner or later they get you where you need to go.” I have lived in cities all my life until about four years ago.  We moved to rural Oregon.  I am aware of the difference in lifestyles and like to write characters that represent small towns.  

EC:  Do you garden?

Nicole:  I do not.  My grandmother and my mom were big gardeners.  By putting those scenes in the book, I was paying homage to them.

EC: Iris Cob Horses?

Maisey: I was flying to Atlanta in October and next to me was a cowboy.  He was telling me how profitable these horses are and showed me pictures.  I told him I was totally going to steal the idea and I did.  Unfortunately, I know nothing about horses.

EC:  Can you give a shout out about your next books?

Maisey:  There is a strong possibility there will be a sequel to this book with new characters, but we hope to bring in these characters as well.  Out in May will be Secrets From A Happy Marriage.  It is my first women’s fiction book that focuses on family relationships with some romance.  It is about women who have a Lighthouse Inn B & B.

Nicole: I have a new book series that started last week, called South Dakota Showdown.  It has six brothers who are police officers who are trying to bring down their father, the head of a motorcycle gang.  It is romantic suspense.

Jackie: Sexy Beast is the next book in the billionaire series.  It has a billionaire and his neighbor, a best friend, who become involved.

Caitlin: In the summer will be book 4 in the “Alaska Force series.” It is written under the name Megan Crane and is titled Delta Force and has the heroine escaping her criminal family by changing her identity. She meets the leader of the Alaska Force that helps her survive her demons.

THANK YOU!!

[pkrs-fr]

wisteria whirls: the shortcut edition

Alright, I’m lazy as hell and have realized I’m never going to get my lore together (at least in a timely fashion). I really want to send out a general idea of what’s happening in my clan because I’m sick of half my dragons and want to do a lair purge, but can’t without a Lore Reason because it’d bother me. So here’s the abbreviated version of What’s Going Down and What Has Gone Down, feat. the snarky tone I use when I really don’t want to be writing stuff and can’t take things seriously.

My clan lore revolves around two struggles for the most part: “how many familiars is Enough” and “what are the limits of humanity” or something like that. Y’know. Just “is what we’re doing SERIOUSLY a moral thing to do”, applied to a whole bunch of situations. What’s a story?

Oh also here’s the page with lore and titles and stuff. Fancy.

1. In the beginning, there was Titania, a Fae who hatched in the realm of the Arcanist and wandered for years before meeting Solus. Solus was kind of a jerk but hey he was better than wandering and their magic apparently worked well together to make a bunch of little dragonbabies. They settled in the Crystalspine Reaches and quickly made long-distance allies in Wind and Lightning. These Wind and Lightning clans sent Notturna and Aya respectively. Notturna helped Titania with day-to-day duties, and Aya used his knowledge of. Another clan, one from Light, sent a hatchling named Marimba.

Titania found the Auction House went on a journey around the fringes of the Starfall Isles and rescued a bunch of kids. Byzantium, Aster, Opalus, Tiay, and Geode. Byzantium and Aster bonded with Marimba quickly and became the clan’s fighters. Opalus became an alchemist, and Tiay and Geode became interior and fashion designers respectively. Gotta make this lair livable SOMEHOW.

However, something quickly became apparent and that something was “Solus is a racist prick”. In his eyes, none of these new additions to the clan were valid members of Arcane because they came from other flights. Dude. Chill.

2.  Notturna and Aya mated and kept Auxiliary, who became a healer in training under Aya’s tutelage. Along the way, Notturna found her own out of flight babies, those being Fulgurite (Lightning rep), Julien (clan mascot and woobie), and Pendergast (guy who sits there and is abrasively protective). They also found an old Pearlcatcher named Blake wandering around and being a prick. Although they only meant to shelter him for like three days or something, it got out of hand and now he’s a permanent fixture and no one likes him except Fulgurite for some reason. Like, they mated. And had eggs. So many eggs. Do you want an egg? I don’t want an egg. Please take their eggs.

Anyway a problem was that Pendergast immediately took his charge to be Tiay and was a massive jerk about it. “Don’t come anywhere near her she’s my charge” sort of thing. Another problem was that Blake was a filthy freeloader and we’re not sure why we didn’t kick him out but here he is, 2 years later, still being a dick.

Four more hatchlings came to the clan. Ruby, Leviathan, Phaino, Tridacna, and Tanzanite. Ruby and Leviathan immediately stuck together like glue and refused to stop plotting the clan’s downfall, as tiny troublemakers are wont to do. Phaino went with Opalus to become an apprentice alchemist, Tridacna wanted to become a coli fighter, and Tanzanite also is a freeloader but at least she does jobs that she’s asked to do. (just @ blake next time) Anyway Opalus is like the dad to all these kids now.

3. Even more new dragons. Rhyolite was brought in as an ambassador to Fire, and Fulgurite remained a Lightning ambassador. (To this day I have friends in neither flight.) Adonia came to the clan as well and was tiny and cute so she became the representative and messenger of the clan itself. That’s cool.

Gavotte and Robyn came along as well as Merriam and Gioclase. Gavotte and Robyn became journalists and started documenting what happened in the clan, so that was cool. Merriam was convinced she was a wizard. I don’t know why, don’t ask why. She has zero combat experience and regularly convinces herself that she’s a Nature/Fire/Wind/whatever mage. She’s an Ice dragon. Why is she like this. Gioclase, as a rogue for hire, immediately gravitated to Leviathan and Ruby and they just plotted for weeks on end.

More importantly, there was Fortissimo. Fortissimo was cranky but he had a good reason for that, that being “he’s prone to magical outbursts for no reason that often end up destroying chunks of the lair and he hates it”. He tried to keep that on the down low so no one really paid attention or noticed. He thought Merriam was pretty cute though and also eggs. E G G S

Hirwen and Nacre are also there. I forgot to put this in my outline. Hirwen saw the clan, went “nah”, and then abandoned it for a while. She came back though. Now Nacre, her girlfriend, is sad and full of abandonment issues. Anyway they’re both mechanics.

4. It was my birthday and I hatched one of Fortissimo and Merriam’s nests. The very first child of their entire Coatl/Nocturne 3% Coatl rate was, in fact, a Coatl named Vega. I kept him. He’s my avatar. The IMPORTANT THING IS he also had a brother named Pulsar, who proceeded to wreck things with a giant magical blast. Things happened and basically Fortissimo is now Very Dangerous And Full Of Magic. Vega could stay because he didn’t seem to exhibit any of the magical outburst things, but he was given some semi-parasitic mushrooms to feed off of his magical energy (wait I could make a new lore thing out of this) and keep outbursts from happening.

There was also Theia, who immediately flocked to Under Gavotte and Robyn’s Wings and became an amateur journalist who put on adorable little “okay this is what happened in the clan” things. And Aubade, who was an Imperial for a while and thought it too clunky so he got breed changed to a Fae. Follow your dreams. Aubade tended to see the good in everyone and everything.

Also the fact that Pulsar was taken away from the clan led Vega to develop serious abandonment issues but shhh

5. Aya thought that Solus’s blatant racism was pretty bad so he organized a squad of people to check it out and figure out how to convince everyone else to throw him out. They all wore birdskulls. It was cool.

6. Mie and Shilling came into the clan to work as hoard guards with Mila, an old and cantankerous drill sergeant. About as soon as this happened, Solus started being Extremely Cranky, the worst he’d ever been. Gioclase immediately bailed because he was a cowardly wretch. Mie and Shilling were mostly confused and politely asked to leave, please. (And so they did.) Robyn and Gavotte were screamed at by Solus and understandably left, leaving Theia feeling very alone and sad. Mila left too, mostly because she got bored. Same with Tridacna.

In the meantime, someone realized we had WAY too many dragons in the clan, so we moved to the Starwood Strand. And stayed there. Because the aesthetic is good.

Also I think I had dragons named Linnia and Kranion at some point but I forgot what they did and I sold them anyway so who cares.

7. So by the way our hoard apparently needs guarding. Mie and Shilling did this for a while, watched over by Mila. Unfortunately they all left. Amaris and Amicitia came along later but that’s not relevant right now. But here’s the thing about how our familiars work: Coli enemies are typically just puppets controlled by the Shade at this point, and defeating them drives the Shade out, leaving them lifeless. HOWEVER they sometimes imprint on a warrior dragon and go home with them, but they’re reliant on the magical energy of the dragon to Maybe Not Die. This is unfortunately impractical when your clan has upwards of 800 familiars, so Hirwen and Nacre rigged a device to use the elemental energy contained in festival currency and chests to keep the familiars from dying forever. But no one has to KNOW that.

So that’s why we need a familiar commissioner to watch over them and the hoard guards don’t know why they’re guarding the hoard. It’s very serious business.

8. Along the way somewhere, we picked up a dragon named Acapella, and obviously she was Shade-possessed. I mean there’s a 666 in her ID. I think I just ran with it. Anyway everyone’s suspicious of her and her actions, except maybe Aubade, who started having weird dreams about a singing Mirror child. Coincidentally, Amaris and Karalynn came to the clan. Karalynn’s an astronomer and wanted to investigate the influence of Arcane energies on the study of the stars. She then realized that there was a massive dark patch over the clan’s area of sky, which was worrisome to say the least.

Amaris is tired all the time and has occasionally prophetic dreams. So that’s cool. The prophetic dreams foretold death and destruction in the clan. So that’s not cool.

9. Okay so we finally got a familiar commissioner and his name is Jones. He brought a mate. She’s Pica, a chocolatier. But whoops a daisy, we also have Boysen, a not-pastry chef! The conflict between Pica and Boysen grew to a head and eventually Phaino stepped in to offer Boysen her patronage. Aw, cute. Insularia came to the clan too, a roaming vagabond who was taking shelter. She immediately became suspicious of Leviathan and cozied up with him to figure out his deal. Ruby is jealous. Amicitia came to the clan too, a wide-awake hoard guard to be friends with Amaris, a never-awake hoard guard. They’re not very effective.

For some reason even though Insularia and Amicitia look entirely different they’re related. I don’t know how that happened.

Oh also I finished my breeding projects around this point and got Zayla, Mel, Oliver, Cory, and Nathaniel as OC fandragons. They’re cute. Just imagine them sitting on the sidelines of the lore and going “not dealing with that” every time something happens.

10. If the familiars stay alive because of dragon energy, and Fortissimo has too much dragon energy, what if we made a machine for him to release excess energy into?

That went terribly and now he’s locked in the Vault in a comatose state because he tripped on a wire. Good job team. But in the aftermath there was an egg, which hatched into a quiet little Noc named “Unnamed”. This is because Denizen and Finite, those lovely Guardians who are my lorekeepers and very creepy, found her in the vault and didn’t see a reason to name her. She never speaks, having no reason to. It’s funny because Finite doesn’t speak either. Literally the only one who speaks is Denizen, and even then it’s a sometimes thing. It’s amazing that no one’s gotten suspicious of them yet but here we are.

Anyway Jones is freaking out. But no one can know about this. NO ONE.

11. Acapella actually managed to influence enough of the Shade to like, crawl out and poke Blake a little. Blake then attacked Tanzanite, who was like “okay Blake is a whiny baby not a fighting whiny baby SOMETHING IS WRONG HERE” so they investigated it and found out that it was, indeed, Acapella’s fault. As it tends to be. For some reason no one’s doing anything about this because Aubade is completely convinced that she’s a good person somewhere. Tanzanite got a breed change to be a Bogsneak to combat Acapella’s influence by going where no dragon in the clan had gone before.

12. Meanwhile, Julien, Pendergast, Geode, and Tiay got tired of dealing with the clan and straight-up left. Notturna is really sad over this. Merriam is also really sad over the fact that FORTISSIMO IS MISSING. So now they’re sort of just holding on to each other and scream-crying.

13. Amaris and Karalynn are gay. Amaris manages to take Karalynn up to see the stars, but ends up passing out. So it turns out stuff’s going down behind the scenes, or something. Bad premonitions. Anyway they hurry back to the lair.

14. Re: the familiars, Jones comes to the realization that Fortissimo is only alive in the loosest sense of the word and that it’s most moral to pull the plug on him. So Fortissimo’s dead now. ONE CASUALTY SO FAR, I guess. Jones announces it to the world, Vega and Merriam are heartbroken. However, the Unnamed starts speaking in plain freaking Draconian that “hey by the way I’m the last child please love me” and so on. Anyway she takes the name Myosotis. Because forget-me-nots. Because don’t forget Fortissimo. Ha. Hahaha.

Jones leaves the clan out of guilt and the weird looks everyone’s giving him. Pica goes too because they’re mates and she likes him more than she likes the clan, and also it’s really dangerous these days. Boysen almost leaves because without Pica’s rivalry, there’s no reason for him to stay and spice up his life. Phaino, his mate, is offended.

15. Acapella somehow influences Solus and makes him think he’s a boss or something and he henceforth wreaks havoc on everyone. He’s like racist, but also dangerous and feral now. Aya attempts to intervene, and winds up dead. TWO CASUALTIES. Notturna freaks out, finally takes a stand for herself, and leaves with Auxiliary in order to protect themselves. Blake gives everyone a really long Reason You Suck speech, except it’s just for the clan, and leaves. Fulgurite follows him. Hirwen is mad because SHE wanted to do a Reason You Suck speech but Blake beat her to it and also leaves. Nacre, not knowing what to do with herself, leaves as well, but on a pilgrimage to the Arcanist to figure out what she’s doing with herself.

16. Leviathan and Ruby are doing just fine causing minor chaos, but Ruby’s heart isn’t really in it. She reveals to him that she’s worried, he laughs it off. He stops laughing it off when Solus leaves Ruby near-dead. She leaves the clan feeling alienated and frustrated, and Leviathan acknowledges his mistakes and feels Really Really Bad. Insularia comforts him somewhat, reveals her past, and makes him feel worse. But he’s more self aware? Anyway they become an Actual Couple instead of a Functional One and Leviathan resolves to reform.

17. Aubade continues to insist that Acapella is not actually mean. There’s some pseudo-religious and science things with notes left behind by Hirwen and a lot of puzzling through with Amaris and Karalynn, but long story short the Shade is banished from Acapella. Yay. Aubade, however, realizes that she’s completely vulnerable at this time, and suggests that she goes to follow the Arcanist as well. He accompanies her to work in her service, leaving Vega and Theia sad and somewhat abandoned. Solus no longer has as much Shade-fueled power to Go Forth And Cause Chaos and he’s really upset about that.

18. Did I say “upset” because I meant “REALLY PISSED OFF”. Solus realizes that everyone’s scared of him and is bitterly joyous about it, He intimidates Rhyolite into leaving and tries to kill Amicitia, and nearly succeeds. Wow everything is so dark™ and edgy™ here in the Whirls. But Amaris and Karalynn save Amicitia by… changing his appearance entirely and also he’s kind of a cyborg now. He’s not sure how to feel about this. I’m not sure how to feel about this, and I wrote it. Just bear with me.

19. Titania finally takes charge and screams at Solus to leave the clan. He does. He’s exalted. Bye binch. With that, everything calms down, but no one wants to try and rebuild.

20. Meanwhile my OC fan dragons are like “well this is a thing that is happening” and generally having a good time while ignoring everything else. They’re approached to lead the clan because they’re the only ones who are having a good time. They agree and have no clue what’s even going on, bless their souls.

ANYWAY YEAH. So half my lair is supposed to be gone. If anyone happens to be interested in buying some I’ll have a thread set up in a week or so to figure out what’s up. Hope this was entertaining and not too long-winded.

[peanatcookies]

Seeing Colours [Preview]

Words: 3522

Genre: Fluff, Romance, Angst (quite a bit tbh) 

Pairing: Taehyung x Jungkook 

Context: Artist au (inspiration can be found HERE) 

A/N: wUHU the preview is finally going to be uploaded here! I’m not sure how I wrote it so fast but I suppose one can easily blame it on the exam stress, which actually made the writing of this story pretty smooth sailing. I know this sounds more like a chapter with its length (oops), but I just wanted to get a feel on how this story might flow through this very platform. :) Furthermore, the title, “Seeing Colours” is under a TBC status so if you guys have any better titles, don’t hesitate to drop me a direct message and we can talk about it! ^^ For now, sit back, relax and read away~ Enjoy! 

P.S. @twoamaranth , this was all thanks to your edits. :) Thank you for letting me repost them on my Tumblr! Do check out her stuff! ^^ 

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It was a typical Tuesday morning, 8am, as it was shown on my digital clock with huge green numbers. The sun was up, the birds were singing and it was a beautiful sunny day with clear blue skies and white puffy clouds. The weather forecast said there will be no rain, and the best part? It was the school holidays for the students who have spent countless hours cooped up in classrooms and homes; studying the day away and remembering facts that they will probably never use in the days to come.

Now, it was their time to have fun, see the sun and get the dose of the Vitamin D they lacked the past few months. Come back with sun-kissed skin (or even burnt for that matter), new friends and most of all, smiles exuding happiness on their faces as they recall the day to their parents and get together with the friends whom they had not seen for so long.

It is indeed a happy day. Yes, of course it was.

But not for me.

I never knew what happened to me really, but it all started back in high school with countless insults and hate comments coming my way. It was a simple secret, whom I had entrusted to a friend that it would be kept that way. I guess things were never meant to be because the cat was out of the bag three days later. People started staring, snickering, jeering and worse still, bullying.

I came back many days with a bruise or two on my torso and a spinning head from getting pushed around too much. Who knows if I even came back with broken bones? Mother always asked me what happened, and I always came up with the same reason.

“I fell. Sorry for ruining the uniform. I’ll be less clumsy next time.”

The words fell out of my mouth like a robot; like I was trained to say that. She might never have bought it but she took great care of me nevertheless, whipping up her signature ginseng chicken soup when I was down and gently tending to my wounds. I was not much of a talker, so we would sit in comfortable silence as she took care of me and made sure all was well.

She still hugged me tight, kissed me on the forehead to go to sleep and was always ever so supportive with everything that I did.

Or so I thought.

I was 19; a fresh graduate. Smiles were upon our faces as everyone took pictures; some laughing, some crying, to commemorate all the memories that they had spent together. I, however, was glad that I was out of the hell hole and that was when I met a boy named Jimin.

He was a year older, but shorter and had the chubbiest of cheeks. For some strange reason, he had the nicest body with toned abs and defined arms, but never seemed to lose any baby fat from on his face (to his utter dismay). I supposed that was what made him cute and cuddly, and someone that I was willing to spend my time with. He had a heart of gold, a positive attitude and was always there in my triumphs and trials.

We met at a coffee shop, both of us fulfilling our duties as filial children, taking up part time jobs, making drinks and dealing with the most obnoxious customers. Quick friends we were, and soon, we fell deeper than that. He was my everything at that time; workmate, soulmate and most importantly, a lover.

I brought him home and we made ourselves comfortable in my room. It was a medium sized bedroom with tiffany blue walls and it was my safe space, away from the cruelty of the world out there. We stared into each other’s eyes as we shared and laughed about our “deepest darkest secrets”.

I don’t know how laughter turned into lust, but there we were, him on top of me and kissing the life out of me. It was as if the wind had been knocked out of my lungs but it was his lips that gave me security and a love that I had never felt before.

Mother walked in, to my shock and horror, and by then, our tops were off, thrown on the floor at some random corner of the room. My stepfather came in next, and he shouted something along the lines of the fact that his son should never love another boy. He pushed Jimin away and grabbed me by the neck, which is a given that it would probably be bruised tomorrow. He asked me for an explanation but only tears and choked sobs came out of me. I could not speak but his grip only tightened, until I felt my lips turn blue and my face pale.

Jimin got up and tried to stop him, but my stepfather was too strong and he hit him hard till his lips bled. It seemed to have triggered something in him and all he did was pick up his shirt and leave, as if we never knew each other and he was a burglar who got caught red-handed.

He left my room in a huff but came back shortly after with a suitcase in his hand and those words stuck with me till this very day.

“Pack up your things and go. When I’m out of the shower, you should be out and don’t you dare step foot into this house ever again. We’ve always trusted you but you stepped all over our hearts and efforts. Be gone. You are not my son anymore.”

And that was it. I left home without a trace and cut off all contact (in fact they made sure I did) and ended up on the streets.

Cold. Tired. Hungry. Alone.

Those were the four scariest words that stuck in my head the entire time as I sat by the roadside watching the world go by. I found some spare change in my pocket, attempting to call Jimin, but the line did not get through.

And there I was again. Until a middle aged lady walked past me and took interest in me. She did not say very much, but I could tell that she took pity on me with the look in her eyes. It was a sight of sadness and perhaps slight disappointment that a youth like me was found on the streets like that.

She walked away, and I began to think that she was just like everybody else, but no. She peeked from the side of the convenience store to see whether I was still there and motioned for me to take my things and follow her. Skeptical I was, but she brought me into the convenience store and there sat a packet of chocolate milk, steaming hot ramyun and a fried chicken wing.

I stared at her in wonder, but she only motioned for me to sit beside her and eat. Sure, I did not mean to wolf down all the food but I did and she only smiled, something like what my mother used to do. It was a silent lunch, with her occasionally watching the news on the television.

I stood up to leave and apologised that I could not repay and thank her enough for her kindness towards a stranger.

“Thank you so much, and I’m sorry I cannot pay you today. I promise to pay it back someday… I-I… should probably g-get g-going…”

“Why were you out there anyway? It’s pretty uncommon for a youth like you to go around with a suitcase, or should I say duffle, outside a convenience store like this.”

And who knew what came over at me, because I told her everything.

Everything.

Where I came from, where I studied, the ups and downs in my life… You name it, I probably said it. There were no emotions and it sounded like I practically deadpanned through the monologue. The woman did not say anything; she just sat there and nodded every once in awhile in understanding. Despite the lack of response, it was pretty obvious that she was listening intently.

“I see… You know, society’s a little messed up in certain ways and I know that you were probably a smart, talented and one of the nicest boys anyone can have. It’s a pity that your parents dropped you off so easily like that, simply because you were considered to be part of the queer.”

I nodded and sighed, suddenly wondering what the hell I was thinking to be blurting all this information to a stranger that I just met 30 minutes ago.

“Oh well… Follow me then.” She stood up and offered to take my luggage for me, but I refused and took it back immediately. Fear crept into my mind and so did suspicion so I asked in doubt, “Where are we going?”

“Ah… Your new home. You’ll be living with me now I suppose. Don’t worry about the rent. It’s only right that you find some more purpose in life other than sitting in the streets and waiting around for a miracle to happen. C’mon, before it gets late, and cold too.”

Fear and suspicion stayed, but my mind kept telling me that there was going to be hope at the end of it, so I followed and we continued to make small talk along the way. Her home, according to her, was not too far off and it was easily walkable. It was almost the evening now and before I resorted to freezing my butt off, I was actually grateful that I had a lodging now.

Her name was Mrs Jung Inhye and she was in fact, from Busan, my hometown. She was under the Art Management team of the Seoul National Museum and was in charge of auctioning for works, do write ups and she also mentioned that she loved to draw in her past time. No style in particular, but she liked still life and natural phenomenons such as a sunrise or a sunset. Later, I found out that she was a relatively young widow; her husband had passed away in a work accident 3 years ago and they never had any children.

So here I was, at least according to her, and she seemed excited to actually take care of me, even if I was not her biological son that she wished to have. The more we talked, the more she reminded me about how my mother used to be; loving, caring and everything a mother should be. Till this day, I’m not sure if I held some form of bitterness but I probably did, considering the fact that I was definitely hurt when she did not stand up for me when my stepfather chased me out of the house.

It was cold then and it was as if I became a stranger in my own family home at that split second. She did not spare me a second glance and did not say a word when I left home. Sure, she was disappointed and I would understand, but I would have preferred a word from her; just so that I could have one last memory before I said goodbye.

Now, Mrs Jung’s home was a quaint and comfortable soho apartment, which was always fully furnished by the previous tenant. It was more suited for a person, considering the narrowness of the corridor and the fact that there was only one stove. And it was true; I felt like I had stepped into an artist’s mind.

The furniture was all monochrome but the things that added a splash of colour were the obvious hints that Mrs Jung was indeed a painter with a canvas stand at a corner of the room and her work (or at least most of it) was hung around her walls to give her space more of a personal touch.

“Just leave your things there, Jungkook-sshi. I will take a shower first so do make yourself at home. Sorry it’s in such a state and of course, you’re free to look around. You know, get to know me a little bit more.”

And with that she left me in the silence of her apartment as I took a seat on the floor, afraid of staining everything with my grimy clothing. I took a good look around and it was indeed what I had wished for as a student; go to a university and rent one of these personal soho apartments with a loft bed.

I could have done that. If I did not get kicked out so soon.

She came out with her hair wrapped around in a towel and once again, memories hit me of how open minded and comfortable my mother used to be, before she met my stepfather. A simple minded woman she was, who always seemed happy with the world and never saw anything wrong with it.

That was what she used to be.

I took the lukewarm shower that I had not taken in days and came out quickly, because Mrs Jung had mentioned that she wanted to have a talk with me. The questions all came with, “So Jungkook, what do you wish to become?” or “Do you have any interest in art? Or even the Performing Arts?”

Honestly, I had never thought of any of those things, and did not help that I actually came from the Hanlim School of Foreign Languages and did not have any exposure whatsoever to the local art scene for that matter. All I knew about it was that I wished that I could do it too.

She tried to help me, opening me up to all the possibilities in Seoul but I had my doubts, especially when it came to my passion. It was no longer clear, especially after whatever I had experienced, and it was probably obvious that I needed more time, given that she allowed me to take a month or two off to discover more about myself and what I really wanted to do. She did not push for it, but it was evident that she wanted me to make a decision as soon as possible.

And that was where it all began.

She taught me about art appreciation, how things came about in the art scene and little by little, I grew to like it because I could freely express however I felt and the beauty lied in the eyes of the beholder. Cringe worthy, but that was what enlightened me towards the beauty of the craft. The journey was far from easy, especially when it came to the application of art.

Coming from a school which gave no time for art, it was frustrating trying to think of anything outside the box that no artist had ever used before. Styles, techniques, content, colour -- there was so much to think about. It led to emotional outbursts and probably a pool full of tears but Mrs Jung pressed on, and taught me that if I wanted to create real art, I had to put some personal thought and feelings into the piece.

Journalling. Researching. Soul searching. And I did all those things.

Eventually, I found my calling and that was to major in art in the prestigious Korea University of the Arts. I found joy, happiness and most importantly, some form of acceptance from those who were just like me. It was bliss just creating something from one’s own talent and the true beauty lied in the fact that every art piece was never the same. We had similar themes; Lies, Deception, Society, Beauty, but all our art pieces had our own personal touch.

I came back to a loving home, where Mrs Jung constantly greeted me with a smile and a hug, always reminding me how proud she was of me pursuing something that I truly enjoyed. She knew how much effort I put in, and it touched my heart all the time, knowing that she was willing to take in a young boy like me and letting him pursue his dreams.

I wanted to gift her with my very first art piece and it was a painting of a the transition of a teenager. “He” started off as closed off, distant and unsure of the world, but he finally found purpose, happiness, all thanks to the angel he met along the path of “his” youth. She was there to talk sense into “him” when “he” wanted to carry out rash decisions and was always a gentle soul with him, accepting every bit of his being without judgement.

Once I finished, I stepped back and admired my masterpiece, reminiscing about the times where I struggled to do art, and I have come such a long way.

The serenity of the apartment was broken from the shrill ring from my phone and a strange voice answered.

“Dude! Do you know how much I had to go through to get your number?”

“U-uh,” I answered, furrowing my eyebrows a bit, “I don’t know who you are.”

“You punk, this is Kim Seokjin. Thank you very much. I can’t believe you forgot about me so quickly. I see how it is.”

And at that tone, my face lit up and my eyes widened in shock because how the hell did he get my number? I was in a different neighbourhood now, living my own life and was soon to graduate in 2 years. I was not the same Jeon Jungkook then. Definitely not.

“Hyung!!” I exclaimed, “How the hell did you get my number?”

However, his voice grew dark and serious, “I will save that story for another time. It’s not the time to talk about it now.”

“H-hyung,” I stammered, “Did something h-happen at home?”

“Promise me you won’t freak Jeon. Where are you now?”

“I’m in my apartment now…?” I answered, anxiety present in my voice.

“It’s…” He paused and took a deep breath before continuing, “Jimin’s death anniversary tomorrow. I’m sorry I had to break it to you like this, but there was no other way since I couldn’t find you----”

And with that he droned on, but I was no longer paying attention anymore. It was as if my world had shattered and the time had stopped. My knees crumpled beneath me and all I could do was stare into oblivion with shock evident in my eyes.

No. It cannot be. Jimin can’t be dead? Why would he be? He was the one who pushed me out of the closet. He brought love, encouragement and joy to all those around him. Why would he want to die anyway?

“Jeon? Jungkook-ah? Yah, Jeon Jungkook.”

“Hyung… It’s not April Fools’ Day, you know? You’re a month late. Indeed, you’ve not changed with your old Dad jokes. It’s May, you know that right? Jimin’s still alive I’m sure, I mean, he had so much to live for---”

But I was cut off from saying anymore when the only thing that came out was the sound of heavy breathing and choked sobs; fat tears rolling down my cheeks uncontrollably like a dam that had been broken. I bit my lip to hide my cries, but Seokjin probably knew better.

He always did anyway.

“Jeon, I’m sorry I did not tell you earlier. I’ll pick you up tomorrow and I will explain everything to you. Get some rest okay? I don’t think Jimin would want to see you this way. He would prefer you to live your life happily and would want the best for you. Wherever you are, he’s proud of you and I am too. Goodbye.”

And the tone to signify that the call had ended beeped away.

At that moment, the silence of the apartment became deafening, terrifying and I could hear every single detail around the house; the dripping tap, the occasional howl of the wind outside. My world started to spin, but tears still flowed out continuously and I tasted blood; probably caused from the hard biting of my lip to hold my tears back.

Black spots soon came into my vision and I tried to blink them away, but my heart continued to palpitate wildly against my chest and it hurt too much to move. It was as if my body froze and my breath started to hitch. With each passing moment, it became harder to breathe and it was as if my entire respiratory system was constricting against my will.

“Jungkook!! I’m home! By the way, I wanted to tell you that I think I met your friend-- JUNGKOOK! Oh my god, what happened to you?! Jungkook, answer me please. Stay awake darling. Come on, say something---”

I finally saw black. I stopped responding and it felt like my heart stopped beating, or at least it was slowing down.

I could not have been happier at that point, or so I thought. Death was a scary thing, yes, but I did not mind embracing it now.

[bromfieldhall]

What Makes You Beautiful - A Mentalist Fanfiction

TIMELINE: Set some in the future after series four finale. Minor spoilers.

SYNOPSIS: “Yesterday I made a New Year’s resolution. I’m going to give myself one whole year to woo and win the love of California Bureau of Investigation’s Senior Agent Teresa Lisbon.”

PAIRING: Patrick Jane/Teresa Lisbon

Previous Chapters: 1

CHAPTER 2

"You're turning heads when you walk through the door,"

~ What Makes You Beautiful ~ 1D

February 3rd – 8.30pm

I hate charity auctions.

Especially one such as this, which is nothing more than a PR stunt to promote the California state police departments. Some middle-aged fool from the AG's office sporting a paunch and a God complex decided that relations between the Sacramento elite and local law enforcement needed to be vastly improved and here we are.

Each department is supplying one person to be a 'lot' for the evening.

Don't get me wrong, although I dislike charity auctions in general, I'm perfectly happy with the part where they actually raise money for a good cause. It's just the whole over the top razzmatazz that the organisers feel should go with it. Personally, I'd rather they came around with a box and we all put in what money we can spare. Maybe have a free glass of nice wine and go home. Why does there have to be a full on social gathering?

Better yet, why don't they just use the obscene amount of money they've obviously spent on this shindig and give that to their chosen charity instead?

I look around. There's a smattering of law enforcement officers and officials schmoozing the usual politicians and businessmen and women. Then you've got the people who were born to their wealth who are only here because it's their 'duty'. They don't particularly like mixing with us mere mortals, they do it simply because they think it makes them look good.

Those are the people I dislike the most. The rich fat cats with too much time and too much money. Full of their own self-importance. Never done an honest day's work in their life. They irk me.

They also remind me of me many years ago.

True, I worked for a living but I'd hardly call it honest.

I used to be just like them. Thought I had it all. Thought I was better than everyone else. Not a care in the world. Like, somehow, my celebrity status and all the wealth that came with it meant that nothing bad could ever touch me because of who I was and what I did.

I was such an arrogant fool. And I paid for it dearly. Am still paying for it, because my guilt will never completely go away. I deserve that.

I saunter around the hall catching snippets of other people's inane conversations and find myself drowning in the quagmire of never-ending tedium.

And I've only been here ten minutes.

I look around, searching for Lisbon. I'm only here because she specifically told me not to come. I mean, please…that's tantamount to a red flag to a bull. How could I not turn up?

After all these years you'd think she'd know that I never do what she's says, but she still keeps trying to order me about. It's sweet. Really.

I'm guessing she thought I'd actually listen this time because ever since our little…altercation over the Carlton case a few weeks ago, I've been noticeably behaving myself better. But that's work…this is personal. Doesn't count.

The sound of an obviously fake laugh draws my attention and I turn to see a man surrounded by a group of women. Speak of the devil…

Senator Carlton is holding court and clearly very much over the 'pain' of losing his dearly, departed wife to her murderous lover not four weeks ago. He sickens me. And he looks like a toad.

He catches my eye and scowls. It's not surprising. I did apologise to him as I said I would…it's just that nobody told me I had to make it sound sincere. Lisbon wasn't very happy with me but she didn't get suspended which is the main thing. After all, it's not her fault I can be a jerk sometimes. I can't be expected to change overnight, now can I?

Besides, I know full well that she spoke to him afterwards and smoothed everything over. He certainly walked out of the CBI a far happier man than he entered it. Lisbon does tend to have that effect on people…when she puts her mind to it.

I turn away from the odious individual and continue my perusal of the room. I notice that Cho is nursing a drink alone at the bar. I raise my glass of sparkling water and he gives me a nod of acknowledgement back. He is the nominated 'lot' from our team tonight. He's offering to teach basic self-defence to the lucky winner. I know he's been dreading getting up on stage. He's not one for the limelight is our Cho.

I scan the rest of the room and find Rigsby staring at the few couples that are making use of the dance floor. The pinched look on his face resembles one of a child who has had his favourite toy taken away but is determined not to cry.

When I check out the dancers I understand why. Van Pelt, who looks lovely this evening, is being whirled around the floor by a rather tall, rather handsome young man who, judging by his slightly dazed expression, can't quite believe his luck. It's obvious he's wishing that she were up for auction this evening.

I feel sorry for Risgby and Grace, they were good together. And now that he has long split up with Sarah, they could still be good together…if CBI rules allowed. I'm pretty sure that if they decided to take up their romance again, Lisbon wouldn't interfere this time. She'd let them be. They both deserve a little happiness after what they've been through.

Don't we all?

Speaking of which…I still can't see Lisbon anywhere. She's usually prompt to the point of being too early. But not tonight it seems. Odd.

I take a sip of my water and think back over the past month with a smile. Things are…better between us. I like to think almost back to normal now, but I was wrong before and so I'm being extra cautious. Keeping it light. Baby steps. Trying to get back to what we were before Lorelei's presence ruined everything. It's taking some time, but I truly believe that we will get there. I have to, for both our sakes.

Naturally, this delays my resolution somewhat. I can't attempt to go forward until we're back to where we started. It's frustrating, but necessary and as I told Lisbon a few weeks ago…I'm a patient man.

The song that's playing comes to an end and the auctioneer for the evening steps up to the mike. I don't recognise him and forget his name before he's even finished introducing himself.

Everyone moves to either find a seat or stand on the dance floor in readiness for the main event. The auction begins but everything is just background noise as I'm beginning to feel a little concerned that I can't find Lisbon. I walk over to where Cho is getting up from his barstool. It's his turn soon.

"Have you seen, Lisbon?" I ask, still scouring the hall.

He nods his head. "Yeah."

I wait for him to continue but when it's obvious that he's not going to be more forthcoming, I query irritably, "Well? Where is she?"

"Around," is his brief reply.

His evasive answer tells me that something is up. I don't know if it's to do with work or whether it's personal but all the same, it bothers me a little that Lisbon obviously chose to bring him in on it and not me.

"Where around, exactly?" I press, watching his impassive face for a glimmer of a clue.

Cho shrugs but doesn't reply. Instead he opts for classic avoidance. "So, what are you doing here? I thought the boss told you not to come?"

"Oh, she did," I concede with a smile. "I thought it'd be a nice surprise."

He snorts and looks away. "Yeah, wouldn't bet on that."

I'm about to ask him outright what the hell's going on when something the auctioneer says catches my ear. "Did he just say Lisbon's name?" I ask in amazement.

"Yeah."

I'm confused. "But I thought you were the one up for auction."

"I was, but when I got here tonight Lisbon told me that the plans had changed."

My puzzlement grows. "Why?"

I finally feel as though I'm going to get to the truth of the matter when Cho sighs and looks a little uncomfortable. "I don't know for certain but he has something to do with it," he tells me.

He nods towards the crowd of people on the dance floor and I grow tense when I see Senator Carlton making his way to the front.

"He came over when Lisbon was here and made…comments," Cho continues, looking a little angry now.

"Comments?" I repeat incredulously, feeling my own hackles rise at the thought of what the other man might have said.

"Comments," Cho confirms, his top lip curling up in distaste.

Why, that rotten, son of a…

The desire to defend Lisbon's honour surges through me like a tidal wave and my hands clench at my sides as I run through all the possible ways to inflict pain on the self-absorbed ass. I know I could get away with it and I'm pretty certain Cho would help.

"I asked her about it when he left and she just said that it was a small price to pay to keep you around," he concludes, a hint of accusation in his eyes.

I feel like I've just been punched in the gut and my anger rises anew. I don't have to be a mentalist to know that Carlton has somehow turned my foolish behaviour to his advantage. Apparently Lisbon has saved me yet again but it's not her job on the line this time, it's her self-respect instead. And I absolutely cannot let her do that for me.

I catch sight of Lisbon walking quickly onto the stage and my breath catches. She is stunning. The unassuming black dress accentuates her figure perfectly. It's sexy in an artless kind of way that's very appealing. All the other men in the hall seem to agree as the hush that had descended when she appeared dissipates into eager murmuring when the auctioneer announces that the winning bidder will enjoy an evening with Teresa including dinner at a place of her choice.

Carlton opens the bidding at two thousand dollars.

It's been the highest amount all evening of that I'm sure. I doubt anyone will raise him, which I assume is his intention, and I notice Lisbon's face take on a look of resignation. She smiles, trying to cover it up trooper that she is, but I can still see it. See what she's willing to sacrifice. And I bet she's even convinced herself that something positive is coming out of all this in that the charity will benefit from the money.

My Saint Teresa.

I walk towards Carlton and feel Cho following close behind, probably trying to ensure I don't do anything stupid. With no other bids forthcoming, the auctioneer begins to wrap up the 'lot' as I come to a stop beside the senator.

"Three thousand dollars," I say loudly, just before the man with the gavel can say, 'gone'. Lisbon looks understandably shocked when she hears my voice and then her mouth tightens in annoyance as she sees me standing next to Carlton.

The senator turns to look at me with a frown and I grin back at him. Gauntlet thrown down.

"Four thousand dollars," he bids, his eyes daring me to counter.

"Five," I offer, almost immediately.

The senator starts to get a red hue to his cheeks and leans towards me. "Back off, Mr. Jane, or you can say goodbye to your job," he says quietly through gritted teeth in what I guess he thinks is a threatening tone. He's an amateur compared to Lisbon.

To my surprise, Cho walks around me and stands in front of Carlton, arms folded. "Is that a threat, Senator?" he asks matter-of-factly. "Because it sure sounded like one from where I was standing."

"Going once," I hear the auctioneer call.

"From here too," says Rigsby suddenly appearing on the senator's other side looking grim.

"Going twice," the auctioneer calls a second time.

Carlton turns an even brighter shade of scarlet and I begin to think he might actually explode. "I'll have all your jobs for this," he hisses angrily before turning and walking away.

"Sold to Mr…?"

"Jane," I reply. "Patrick Jane."

The auctioneer smiles and indicates for Lisbon to leave the stage. She looks absolutely livid and heads straight for us, her eyes practically shooting flames.

"Uh-oh," murmurs Rigsby apprehensively.

I can understand his concern. "You two go, I'll handle it," I say, grateful for their intervention and wishing to give them a reprieve. They don't need telling twice and I'm quickly left alone to face Lisbon's wrath.

"What the hell was that?" she demands to know as she comes to a stop right in front of me.

I can sense her barely contained rage so naturally I have to push it. "You're welcome," I reply with a grin.

"Jane," she says, the warning clear.

"It's fine, Lisbon. Don't worry," I dismiss with a wave of my hand. "We merely persuaded Senator Carlton not to bid for you, that's all."

"Oh, God," she groans as she closes her eyes and pinches the bridge of her nose. "I'm going to get suspended, aren't I?"

I raise my hand and take hold of hers, gently pulling it away from her face. She opens those amazing green eyes and I shake my head. "He won't bother you again, trust me," I tell her and I'm pleased to feel her relax a little.

She stares at me and I know she's trying to figure out what happened but in the end she just accepts it and lets out a little sigh. She looks down at our joined hands and I'm disappointed, but not surprised, when she pulls hers away. "I need a drink," she mutters, walking off towards the bar.

I follow and stand beside her when she perches on one of the stools. I order her a drink and get myself another water.

"You know you're going to have to pay for this, don't you?" she says seriously.

I'm not quite sure what she's talking about and glance at our drinks in perplexity. "I thought it was a free bar."

She looks a little self-conscious. "Not the drinks…I meant the auction…you know…me."

It's adorable the way she stumbles over her explanation. And the rosy hue that invades her face is far more becoming than the vermilion disaster that was Carlton.

"Oh, that," I say with a shrug of my shoulders. "I can afford it. Besides, you're worth it."

I deliberately keep my tone offhand but it pleases me to note that the colour deepens on her smooth cheeks. It's obvious she doesn't know what to say and I'm content to let the silence continue between us as she, no doubt, ruminates on all the possible meanings.

I know I said I'm taking baby steps but even an infant needs a gentle push sometimes in order for it to stand. Right?

A short, sweaty man walks over carrying a clipboard then thrusts it towards me with a pen and asks for my signature by way of confirming that I've won…Lisbon.

I fill out all the details and hand it back to him while I watch the auction conclude with complete disinterest. All my senses are attuned to the woman sitting quietly next to me. I know there are things she wants to ask me. There are things I want to say, but it's too soon. She's not ready.

The band take up their positions on stage. The lights dim slightly, taking the edge of the harsh lighting just enough to give the room a romantic ambience and they begin to play. It's a slow song and I can't resist holding out my hand for hers.

"Will you dance with me?" I ask with my most persuasive grin.

She hesitates for a second then smiles and places her hand in mine. I lead her onto the dance floor and can't stop my sigh of satisfaction as I take her in my arms. She rests her head on my shoulder and I gather her in closer, chest against chest, thighs brushing thighs, our bodies moving easily together as if we've danced this way many, many times before.

"So," she says, finally breaking her silence and lifting her head to look at me. "Where are you going to take me for dinner?"

I gaze down at her and smile. "I thought that was your choice."

She shakes her head. "I made that a condition so that Carlton couldn't take me back to his place," she admits, confirming to me what I'd already suspected.

"I knew you'd set this whole thing up," I say with a shake of my head. "Please promise me you won't do anything like this again, Lisbon. I'm not worth it."

"You are, Jane, because you close cases. I need you on my team."

No matter how much I love holding her like this, I really want to shake the infernal woman for trotting out that same old excuse again. She's said it for so long now that I think she's actually starting to believe it's true.

"Besides, I had everything planned," she adds with a sudden smile that catches me off guard. "I knew when I told you not to come tonight you wouldn't listen. I didn't think you'd actually bid for me but I knew that if Cho said the right things, I could count on you to do something so that Carlton wouldn't win."

She looks so happy that her little scheme has worked, I can't find it within myself to be upset that she conned me in such a way. Turnabout is fair play after all.

"I'm impressed," I say letting my admiration to show. "Plus, the charity gets a nice little donation out of it. Win, win situation all round."

"It is," she replies, still grinning. "And it was nice to finally get one over on you for a change."

"Oh, you did," I admit as the music comes to an end and I reluctantly release my hold. "Apart from one little thing."

She pulls away with a frown. "And what's that?" she asks dubiously.

I reach out then take her hand and look deeply into her eyes as I raise it slowly to my lips. Holding her gaze, I press a soft kiss to the back of her hand. Her skin is warm and I find myself lingering there far longer than I should when her mouth drops open a little and I hear her sharp intake of breath.

I eventually pull back with a smile, my lips still tingling from the tender contact. Keeping hold of her hand, I lean in closer. I hear her breathing hitch anew as I bring my mouth to her ear and whisper dryly, "Cho stepped in too early, I would have paid double."

I hear her gasp of surprise as I pull back and grin. I give her hand a light squeeze then release it before I turn to walk away, but she stops me.

"Wait, what about dinner?" she asks, that wonderful blush back on her perfect cheeks.

"No rush, Lisbon. You can choose when you're ready. Or not. Just let me know. I'll be waiting."

I leave her on the dance floor staring after me in confusion. I enjoy keeping her off kilter and quite honestly, if I don't leave her now I'll do more than just kiss her on the hand.

I make my way outside and to my car and I can't help but think that maybe charity auctions aren't such a bad thing after all.

END CHAPTER 2