#i tried to take her old hair and her new ponytail and smash them together ahaha

[myreia]

In the dark, you will not stray Forge ahead till the end, we pray

Calantha Lenn for @galadae! 💜✨

[thecoochiefairy]

lovesick. toji.

𑄽𑄺 warnings 𑄽𑄺 17.1K. word count. blackfem!reader, toji fushiguro, countryboycoded! toji, sweet!toji,dominant!toji, makeup sex, drunk sex, balcony sex, black woman, vaginal penetration, rough sex, lil bit of sweet talkin’, creaming, squirting, oral [f], choking, praising, LOTS of dirty talk, condom-less sex, kissing, spanking, minors aren’t welcome!

━━ 𝒄𝙤𝒐𝙘𝒉𝙞𝒆𝙛𝒂𝙞𝒓𝙮 𝙩𝒉𝙤𝒖𝙜𝒉𝙩𝒔 .ᐟ listen, don’t cuss me out. it seems like most of y’all didn’t really fuck w/ the snake wrangler, but i did. so this is for the people that did love it, and wanted to tie up the loose ends. :)

𝓐ᥫ᭡ :: song is switch a nigga out, by summer walker.

A PROMINENT FLORAL AROMA WITH A MIXTURE OF GRAPE HUGGED HER NOSE. It was entirely too early for her to be drinking, but she was dying to know her sister’s opinion on the new wine she’d bought, mixing it with orange juice to create her own customized mimosa. 

She dropped a pink hibiscus flower within the tall glass, turning with a small smile as she handed it out, “Here you are, madam—I trust your tongue on the taste of Moscato—don’t fail me now.”

“Tuh, I got this!” 

She took the glass delicately, bringing it to her lips. Drinking a bit of the orange and pink liquid, she swirls it around her tongue before swallowing it down, letting the flavors sink into her taste buds. She smacks her lips together a couple of times, twisting the glass around in her hand fancily. 

“Mm, I can taste the floral tinge from the hibiscus with a dash of grapes. It’s a nice balance of both bitter and sweet. You ate that!”

“I told you it would taste good!” Stoney gives a smile, taking her piece of avocado bread, biting down into it as this was her breakfast. 

She then asks, “Now, remind me again why you aren’t participating in Sai’s career day at school, Ms. I Bake Decorative cakes for a living?”

Serena took another drink of her Mimosa before letting out a sigh, biting down on a piece of her own Avocado bread. She let out a soft hum before speaking, running a hand through her hair as she leaned back in her seat. 

“You know I hate talking in front of people. What about you, bitch? You own a whole pottery studio! Don’t you think that would’ve been cool to show the kids?”

“Do you know how expensive a pound of pottery clay is? I love Sai’s lil’ besties, but I’m not wasting my shit on some bad ass kids,” she shakes her head, “You’re just lazy. Could’ve made them kids a damn Paw-Patrol cake and let them smash it. God don’t like ugly.”

“Well I don’t know how he had our mom birth you then, extra terrestrial. Don’t piss me off— where’s your daughter at before I smack you?” 

Stoney holds back her laugh as she teases, “Ooh, you’re mad. But she’s upstairs, getting herself ready. I did her hair and stuff, I told her she could be responsible for picking her outfit, I just hope she doesn’t come downstairs with two left shoes on and her shirt backwards.”

Serena snickered at the thought, shaking her head as she drank her mimosa again, glancing at the stairs.

“You know if she does, that’s on you for letting her pick out her own outfit.” 

“That’s fine! That’s my baby, and she tried!” 

As she was finishing her sentence, the sound of footsteps came down the stairs towards the kitchen, both women turning their heads to see Sai. She actually hadn’t done bad at all, it was an event at school, so they were told to dress up. Her soft midnight black hair was slicked back into miniature pigtails, edges swirled along her forehead and finger curled ponytails in between the rubber bands beneath her alabaster bows. She wore a shimmering pink dress, glittered at the top, tulle starting at her chest and to her ankles, her ballerina flats matching her bows, socks having ruffled lace along the ankle part.

Stoney gasps, pressing her hands against her face as she greets, “Hi, baby!” Smiling from ear to ear at her five year old, “You look so pretty—You dressed yourself so well!”

Sai grins to herself, giggling softly as she does a little spin for her mom, showing off the pretty tulle of her dress as it swayed around. 

“You think I look pretty, mommy?”

Stoney goes over to her, picking her up and placing her along her hip as she usually did, “So good, my love. Such a good job, hm? I’m so proud of you.”

Sai grins from ear to ear, wrapping her tiny little arms around her mother, nuzzling her face against her shoulder. She lifts her head up to look at her aunt Serena, waving a hand at her. 

“Tee-Tee ‘Rena’—did I do a good job?” She questions, Serena chuckling and approaching the two. Just like an aunt, she had her camera out, recording her niece in awe, snapping a thousand pictures. 

“Tee-Tee’s baby did so well! You’ll be the prettiest girl there.” 

Sai then turns, her big doe eyes—something she’d definitely gotten from her father—blinking at her mother as she conveniently questions, “Is daddy still coming today?”

There it was, the question she wished she could avoid. Her and Nathaniel had been divorced for about six months, separated even before that, and she constantly tried to shield Sai from the absence of her father—she had the unfortunate job of reminding her child what disappointment was. 

She tried not to allow her face to drop as she said, “No, baby. Daddy said he had to work today, so he won’t be coming, okay? I’m sorry.”

Serena awkwardly rubbed sisters shoulder, knowing she hated the face her daughter made each time she was given that news. This was a normal occurrence now, everytime Sai asked about her father, he’d be busy. 

“Who the hell wants to see a weak ass fuckin’ stock broker anyways. What he gon’ do? Teach the kids how to rob, cheat, steal their money?” Serena smacked her lips, Stoney giving a warning as she briefly murmurs, “Serena.” 

Serena pushes off her anger at her ex-brother in law, “My bad. But hey, my lil’ Sai-Sai. Me and your mommy will be there with you and all your friends, and I made cupcakes with extrraa sprinkles!”

“And, Daddy will be here this weekend to pick you up so you can go Christmas shopping with him, yeah?” Stoney adds in, kissing her daughter’s soft cheek multiple times to cheer her up.

Sai was now back to her excited and happy self, giggling when her mother showered her with kisses. The thought of her daddy bringing her shopping was exciting, the thought of spending time with him in general, made the young girl happy. 

 “Can we get presents for you too, mommy?”

“Yeah. Tell the bastard I need thirty bands in the bank right now,” Serena says, Stoney flicking her arm as she interrupts that, “Of course, baby. A little card with your name on it would be beautiful for mommy. You’ ready to go? We don’t wanna be late!”

Sai nodded her head enthusiastically, a sparkle of excitement in her eyes. She hopped down from her mother’s arms, putting her tiny hands in her mom and aunts palms, walking with the two to the front door. This was all Stoney needed—the happiness from her daughter.

 It didn’t matter if she had to be the only one that created that for her—almost having to be the mother and father, essentially—but it didn’t matter. She’d always work twice as hard to provide for Sai. Even if that meant taking her business and turning it into a small pottery studio, having classes three times out the week, allowing people to learn the creations she taught herself. It worked for her. 

They placed the cupcakes for her class within the trunk, Stoney’s Lexus NX 350 pushing down the road as she made her way towards the school building.

“What did that dumbass nigga come up with as an excuse this time?” Serena questions, turning the air up on her side of the passenger seat, not wanting to ask the question, but she was always curious. 

Stoney keeps her hand along the wheel, glancing at the mirrors beside her as she switches lanes, “Said he had a client. I didn’t say too much after that.”

Stoney’s lips form a thin line, sighing to herself. It was always the same thing every time he said he wouldn’t be able to make it with Sai. Work, clients, clients, meetings, meetings. She honestly wondered when it would just stop. It was always some excuse, always something more important than her. Always. 

“I bet the bitch still wanna play house with you. He probably misses you.”

“I wouldn’t care if he offered me the entire world to get back with him,” Stoney briefly says, turning the wheel with one hand, “I just want him to be there for Sai, even if that means explaining what stock-broking is to a bunch of five-year olds. It would’ve been boring, but it would’ve meant something for her, y’know?”

Serena nods her head, crossing her arms against her chest. She turns in her seat, looking back at her niece, who was preoccupied with Bubble Guppies on her mini IPad, eyes glittering in a mix of childish happiness and innocence.

“She’d be way better if she didn’t have a sorry ass dad like him. She’s got you though, you’re doing an amazing job. And you have me. That nigga could turn into a dry-ass Popeyes biscuit.”

“You’d still eat him, huh? Hungry ass.” 

“…Maybe. Actually, damn right! And I’d take three days to shit him out, you know I be’ constipated.”

“You’re stupid,” Stoney sighs, a soft laugh pulling at that. 

“That’s fine, better than the biscuit man. Not that you need a man, but a step-daddy for Sai wouldn’t hurt.”

And at that comment, Stoney decides to say nothing at all, pulling into the school's parking lot. She can see other parents with their children, some of the children dressed in different uniforms from firefighters, chefs, to even small suits, their parents looking to be dressed in their actual work outfits. It was a full on event.

They were guided towards the Kindergarten wing, a door that separated off into an entirely different section that was a lot smaller than what the other grades had to deal with. Stoney and Serena greeted Sai’s teacher, placing the desserts they’d made for her class in the back where everything else sat, Sai giving her mom one last hug as she sat on the carpet with her friends. All the other parents began piling in, a couple unfamiliar faces also standing in the front of the class. It was a man dressed in scrubs, a female police officer, and another man who seemed to be some type of military profession.

Stoney picked up the bright yellow paper that titled the event of today, looking up as she said softly to her sister, “Hm, I didn’t know they’d have extra guests come and speak today. I guess you didn’t have to sign up for it.”

“I guess not,” Serena shrugs her shoulders. She looks around the room, her eyes landing on the unknown men. She then turns to her sister, a sly smile pulling at her lips. 

“Some of them are pretty cute, you have your pick. The doctor, the police officer, or the military? Who’d you choose?” She teases, lightly shoving Stoney’s shoulders with a laugh.

Stoney shakes her head, “Who would you pick, desperate?”

“I’m not desperate,” Serena exclaims quietly, rolling her eyes. She looks at each one of the men again, biting her lip as she tries to decide. After a second, she points at the doctor with his clipboard.

“I love a nigga in scrubs. Mhm, although I’m sure he’ married. Honestly—If he puts me up in a condo, I might be able to get over his wife and kids.”

“You’re terrible, you know that?” 

“Terrible? Meh. Smart? Correct,” Serena grins, watching the teacher as she begins speaking. 

The teacher smiles at the room of parents and kids as they all sit quietly, a small giggle leaving her lips. Each child was going to get the chance to talk about their ‘dream job’ and what they wanted to be when they got older. The special guests would also have an opportunity to explain their job, educating the children in addition to that. As the presentation begins, each kid around the room holds a paper, showing a drawing of what they wanted to be and why. It was an adorable sight, some of them saying fairies, ninjas, assassins, jobs you’d expect a child to say. Then, it was Sai’s turn.

Stoney was easily emotional, she knew that. She told herself she wasn’t going to cry when her daughter stood up there to present her career choice, Serena holding up her phone to record as the five year old held what looked to be her butterfly shaped pottery dish she’d made. 

“My name's Sai, and I wanna be like my mommy when I grow up!” 

The little girl held up the dish—which had pink butterflies, along with the letters ‘S’ and ‘S’ drawn on it—with a smile on her face, showing it off to the rest of the room as she continued, “My mommy makes all these pretty plates and other cool stuff. It makes people happy, so I wanna make people happy. My mommy is like a superhero!”

The teacher smiled at her, “That’s wonderful, Sai. Your dish is beautiful.”  

Stoney’s heart had nearly melted inside of her body, and she wanted to crocodile cry. She loved nothing more in this world than her baby girl.

“All right, we’ll now be moving onto our guests—“

A knock on the door interrupts the teacher's words, the door opening before she could make her way over to it. As Stoney turned her attention like everyone else, it seemed like time stopped—Just to her unamusement. Just to laugh in her damn face. 

He almost had to hunch to come within the classroom, as the ceiling was low, but he was big—his shoulders broad, flexing muscles stretching along his back under the dark long sleeve he wore. His full and dark pink lips, scar cutting through his mouth dangerously, scarily straight teeth made by the devil himself. Dark eyebrows that furrowed as he walked in, sable hair all complimenting his cream skin, littering in tattoos that she knew he had.

 She could imagine the serpent that slithered around his arm, the same one that clutched her hair within his veined palm. And then—those eyes. Those grey eyes poured into her senses, picking up her melting heart and having it drop completely out of her body. 

Toji fucking Fushiguro. 

Her sister's phone that was previously held up slowly dropped down, looking towards her younger sister who could’ve gone into cardiac arrest at this very moment.

 She muttered, “Oh hell.” 

Has he gotten bigger? Taller? Sexier? Why couldn’t he have just become ugly all of a sudden? 

His voice was almost unrecognizable to her, deep, assertive as his first words were, “I’m sorry. Did I miss the special guest presentation?”

Stoney’s eyes were practically popping out of her sockets at the sight of the man—who she thought she’d never see again. And yet, there he was. Toji Fushiguro, standing in all his tall dark glory. She was practically about to have a heart attack. 

The teacher smiles, shaking her head and waving a hand, “No, not at all. You’re actually just in time. Come on up. Class, this is another guest of ours, this is Mr. Fushiguro, he’s a Snake Wrangler.”

The kids cheered at the title—snake wrangler was such a unique and thrilling name to them. But to Stoney, it was like hearing her worst nightmare. She hadn’t seen this man in two months. Since he’d helped her move into her house, since he’d fucked her, cared for her in ways a man in years couldn’t care for her in the way he did in one night. 

And to her luck, Sai instantly recognizes the tall man, running up to him as she wraps her arms along his leg, squealing, “Mr. Snake Man!”

She wished at this moment that Sai wasn’t so damn outgoing—or that maybe this was her personal hell, and it was only a nightmare. Her dark brown eyes widened, her jaw almost dropping open. 

A blind person could sense how attractive he was, even the teacher giving him a look. She collects herself, smiling at Sai, “You know him, sweetie?” 

“Uh-huh! He’s mommy’s friend!” Sai exclaims, her little tiny hands wrapped around his thick, muscular leg.

In that instant, it’s like the entire class looks back towards Stoney, which causes him to look at her. Yup, she was going to faint. She was going to black out.

“Hey, pretty girl. I missed you,” Toji picks Sai up for a moment, pulling her into a hug that makes the small child giggle before placing her back down. 

Stoney was red. Her brown skin was flushed at the situation, unable to even speak. Her heart was racing. He was staring.

She was practically unable to move, unable to function, unable to breathe. Her dark brown eyes staring back into his storm grey ones, unable to break contact. What the hell was he even doing here? This was not the place to run into your one night stand after two months of disappearance. 

The teacher’s voice came in again, “It’s wonderful to have you here, Mr. Fushiguro. Why don’t you find a seat until it’s time for your presentation?” 

He gives a nod, politely smiling as she guides him to a small stool they’d brought for the guests to sit out in front of the group. He sits there now, sitting in that damn school-sized-stool that looked like it would break at any second, his palm clutching what looked to be a travel terrarium.

Nothing was louder than Stoney’s thoughts. She now felt extremely insecure in the top she wore, showing off her midriff, her cargos and fuzzy boots, jade green glasses perched atop of her freckled nose, straight hair lazily pulled behind her face in a matching claw clip.

Serena was having the best time out of anyone there, watching as her poor sister looked like she was going to burst into tears. Stoney knew if she looked next to her, she was going to punch Serena in the face. He couldn’t help but stare at her—she was the prettiest thing to him. Something in his scar twitched at the sight of her glasses, and those freckles he seemed to memorize all those months ago. 

He looked over her body once more, watching her bite at her brown lined lips, how her cheeks were naturally blushed. 

God, he missed her.

“And for our final presenter, everyone give a warm welcome for Mr. Fushiguro!” The teacher ignites clapping throughout the classroom, women gawking, men watching his every move. He was like an alien that’d just come down to earth.

The children cheered and clapped, their eyes looking up at him as he stood from the stool, which was somehow holding up his 200+ pound ass. He stands there, intimidating aura practically surrounding him without needing any effort.

“Well, I’m a Snake Wrangler, or a snake catcher, meaning I help capture reptiles that might be in places they shouldn’t be. In your neighborhood, your backyard, maybe even in your toilet,” which makes the class giggle, but nothing was funny to Stoney at this moment.

A kid within the front of the class raises his hands, speaking anyway before he is called to ask the question, “Have you been bitten before?”

Toji chuckled, the question amusing him, but he answered anyway, “I have. Quite a few times actually. Mostly from smaller snakes. It’s not that bad, just uncomfortable and a little scary if it’s from a bigger one.” 

The class ‘ooed’ at the answer. Another kid spoke up, “Can we see?” 

He smirked, holding up his arm, where there were indeed a few circular shaped scars on his olive skin. All of them seemed shocked, like it was some cool thing. Except Stoney. Who knew what those scars felt like on his skin.

He then places the terrarium on the desk, his broad back facing the classroom for a brief second—making Stoney’s insides throb,imagining her fingers clawing at his back, whining into his ear. 

She blinks, wanting to bang her head against the wall to knock sense into herself, hearing his voice as he asks, “Now, who wants to hold a snake?” 

Maybe Stoney wasn’t alone in the fear that struck against the classroom, but her fears were entirely different. She expected at least one child to volunteer, yet they all sit with wide eyes, seeing as a yellow reptile slithers around his arm, finding comfort in the material of his top.

“This is Lily,” he introduces, “She’s a ball python. Her color might look a little scary, but she’s the sweetest. She loves to cuddle, and she says her favorite show is SpongeBob,” which makes the class giggle, the parents amused at his words. 

A student calls out, “She can’t talk, she’s a snake!”

“She talks to me all the time!” He defends, “She’s just nervous to see all you new people, takes her a while to get comfortable enough.”

The kids laugh at the statement, even Stoney having to hold back a weak laugh, watching how easy he was with them. He allowed the snake to slither up his arm, up until she made her way to his neck, locking around his throat as he adds, “This is her favorite place to sleep. They like where it’s warm.” 

Stoney was more focused on the way that damn snake slid across his muscular arm and shoulders. It unfairly fit him—made him look even hotter somehow. 

But the thought of the snake touching her—it made her shiver. The fact that she was still standing here watching, it was definitely a sense of growth, something she might’ve been able to thank him for.

The kids seemed intrigued by the animal, even more when Toji carefully picked one child to hold the snake. The girl was clearly nervous, but when she was holding the reptile, she had the biggest smile on her face. 

“The main thing I want you guys to understand,” Toji continued his presentation, “Is that snakes are just tryna’ survive. They’re more scared of you than you are of them. They just want to eat and lay down somewhere warm, nothing more.”

She could feel his eyes on her, and she knew that the second this presentation was over, he was going to come over there to talk. 

Not gonna happen. 

So the moment she heard the teacher say, “Thank you so much, Mr. Fushiguro, you’ve been amazing!” She beelined for the bathroom as everyone began clapping, hiding within the stalls until Serena confirmed that he was already gone. 

She nearly had to fan herself, giving her baby girl a kiss before making her way out of the building with her sister, wanting nothing more than to hide under the covers of her bed and scream.

When they got into the car, Serena held a hand over her mouth, giving her sister a couple of minutes as she said, “Can I laugh? I’m finna’ laugh. I’m so sorry, shawty.” 

“Shut up,” Stoney grumbles, her fingers gripping the steering wheel tighter as she sped back to her place. 

“And you rushed to the bathroom like you were gonna throw up. That’s a damn shame.” 

“Shut up,” she repeated again, rolling her eyes as her sister continued laughing, “I was embarrassed.”

“Why you’ being weird anyways? Y’all not fucking or something?”

Stoney blows out a breath. She then admits, “I haven’t spoken to Toji in two months.”

Serena’s jaw practically drops to the floor of the car. She’s shocked into being speechless for a good thirty seconds before blurting out, “Two months? Ain’t no way you haven’t tried to reach out.”

“I thought it’d be letting him down easier that way.”

“For someone who says they hate when people just cut them off without any explanation, you sure went and did the same. You know how lame you look?”

She narrows her eyes, “I have my reasons, Serena. I didn’t just stop talking to him for the fuck of it.”

Serena gives her, “Oh yeah? Then what’s your reason?” She turns her whole body to look at her, her arms still crossed, waiting to hear what she says. 

Now thinking of the reasons she was going to say, maybe she was starting to feel a little stupid. The moment Toji left that morning after, he asked about seeing her again and she told him she was busy— she stopped picking up his calls or even responding to his messages. 

She exhaled as she responded, “I’m busy with the studio and Sai. I don’t have time for some kiddy ass puppy crush.”

Serena looked at her in disbelief, “You can’t be for real. You spend all of your time with Sai if she isn’t at school, you work from home, and the studio is open three times out of the week. This heartless front you’re tryna’ put on? Doesn’t suit you.”

“Well how would you feel if the man that helped you move your stuff into your ex-husbands house listens to your sob story, makes you feel like you matter, and then fucks you so good that you tell him to cum inside of you after only knowing him for forty-eight hours? I feel stupid. Maybe I was just vulnerable, and he was just horny.” 

“You let that man cum inside you?” 

“That’s not the point of what I just said, Serena.”

Her younger sister's eyes were an expressway to her heart, she could never lie about her emotions. She seemed to have built a wall between herself and everyone. Her hands gripped the wheel tighter, her knuckles white and trembling, her lips pursing. 

There were a million things Serena could say to her at this moment, but instead she asked, “Why do you feel stupid?”

She pulls into her driveway, parking as she sits on that thought. She knew why, maybe she just didn’t want to admit that to herself. She hated being as emotional as she was, wearing her entire heart on her sleeve. 

She pulls her hair behind her ear, “I let him in too quickly, I didn’t even know him, Serena. I have a daughter, and I’m a grown ass woman. I can’t just be fucking niggas and thinking they’re in love with me.”

Serena looked at her, almost seeing herself in her younger sister as she said, “Love at first sight seems like a fairytale, I’m well aware of that. I know you’re an adult and you have a daughter, but you ain’t dead, girl. You can live a little—you should live a little more.” 

 Serena reaches out and places a hand on Stoney’s shoulder, saying, “You haven’t been yourself since you and Nathaniel’s split. So what’s really the deeper issue?”

Goddammit. The question makes her eyes turn away from her sister, looking forward to her condo, the sight of it becoming blurry in her eyes. 

She quickly sniffles as she drags her palm along her cheek, hating that she was crying. Her voice was hoarse as she admitted, “I just feel stupid. A man I knew for two days showed me an affection I never got from my own husband…” She presses her hands to her face, “I just…I’ve been wasting so much time…and I h—hate myself for it…”

The sound of her crying hurt Serena in ways she couldn’t describe. Seeing her younger sister like this, knowing how much emotional weight she carried, it didn’t feel fair to her. No one should have to feel that way. 

“Dammit bitch, got me crying too,” she lightly laughed while sniffling, her own tears forming in her eyes, “You’re not stupid for falling a little too hard. That dumbass baby daddy of yours never deserved you in the first place. Fuck that meat head. The only good thing that came from that was Sai, this condo, and your booming business. You’re blessed, baby girl. Know that. And now you have a man trying to fill that emptiness you don’t need, but deserve. Let him show you a love you didn’t have in a place you should’ve. Give him that opportunity.”

She takes in her sister’s words. She didn’t need any man’s love, but if it was genuine, it didn’t hurt to open herself up again. She sinks deeper into her older sister, needing her comfort as she says softly, “I love you.”

Serena smiles against her skin, holding her close as she says, “Ahh, you’re always a little cry baby when you’re sad. But I love you more. And if this man breaks your heart, Imma’ break his skull. So stop crying. You’re ruining my makeup, and I have a date tonight.”

She pulls her head up, “Wasn’t you just saying you wanted that doctor's number at the Career Day? Now you got a date?” 

She smacks her lips, waving it off as she says, “Do you doubt me as a bitch who can get any nigga she wants? That’s my date, girl! I got his number. Foine ass doctor, let me tell you.”

Here we go again.

Stoney felt a little better as the next day came. It was one of her favorite days out of the week, being within her studio and helping others enjoy a session. She had different packages—Pottery and Paint, Pottery and Pot/Smoking, Pottery and Sip— she enjoyed each session, and always was received well by her customers. She loved her studio, SAI’S, sign illuminating pink at the top of the building. It was minimalistic within the inside, honey pine wood tables and walls, plants hung along the ceiling, easels and workstations scattered within the workshop. This was her second home. 

Today in particular was a children’s birthday party, having the children all along the table with mats, mushing their creations into anything they wanted and painting over it. She had Sai participating with them, as she was in the studio with her today to be picked up by her father for the next week or so, spending time with him before Christmas. She knew her daughter was excited, but she wasn’t exactly looking forward to him coming to her place of sanctuary.

A small smile came along her face as she continued to lead, “Okay, so you’re gonna take your clay and roll it into a little burrito—but don’t eat it! It’ll make you very sick,” she dramatically rubs her stomach, making the children giggle, “Can I see everyone make a burrito for me?”

This was her peace of mind, being surrounded by all things she loved. Her baby girl’s giggle, the sound of clay, paint brushes and paint. It was all something she could immerse herself in.

As the session came to an end, she said her goodbyes to the children and parents, beginning to clean off the tables and unused supplies, feeling herself becoming a bit tired from the day.

“Alright, muffin. I need you to go and clean up in the bathroom, so you can look all nice and pretty for Daddy, okay?” She says to Sai, pulling her out of the chair she placed her in, “You need any help from mommy?”

“I’ll be okay!” 

As she continued to clean up the supplies, she heard the bell atop of her door jingling, and inhaled a deep breath.  Her eyes met with her ex-husband, caramel skin, hazel eyes, waves upon his head. He was wearing a suit, assuming he was coming from work. 

When she goes to politely greet him, the first thing he does is look around, raising an eyebrow as he says, “So this is where all my child support money is going, huh?”

And just like that, her good mood was ruined. She reaches over to grab the Hello Kitty duffle that had all of her daughter’s necessities, reaching it towards him as she dismisses, “Your daughter has her Christmas list in her bag, Nathan. She also needs new shoes, she’s beginning to grow out of her old ones.”

He reaches for the bag, his hand touching hers for a moment. His eyes drift down towards her tattoos on her forearms, before they look down towards her chest, as she wears a soft green tracksuit set, where her zipper was dipping a bit low. 

“You’ still fucking that mover?”

Her neck nearly broke as she was taken aback by the question, her face remaining stoic and unwavering. Instead of getting upset, she pulls the bag back towards herself as she dismisses,  “Do you know what shoe size Sai is?”

He doesn’t seem phased by her not responding to the question, leaning himself against the wall as he shoves a hand into his pocket, “She’s a ten in kids, I’m well aware of my daughter’s shoe size.”

His eyes once again stroll down her body, “Small feet like her mom.” 

“Congratulations on knowing that,” she flatly says, “Sai’s just washing her hands. She’ll be out in a second.”

He pushes himself off of the wall as he walks towards the table, sitting himself down, “So this is where you spend the money you got from the divorce, huh? Painting mugs and ashtrays?”

“It’s a good profit to take care of Sai,” she tells him, “She enjoys it here just as much as I do.”

He laughs, leaning back into his chair, “Well at least she’s enjoying it,” He says, before adding, “Because I know I’m sure as hell not paying for you to sit around and play with clay all damn day.”

She blinks at him, before she turns around and goes back to her cleaning. She really didn’t give a fuck about his conversation right now.

 She then hears his mouth open again, “I’ll be bringing Sai back a day early, me and my fiancé are going out of town for Christmas.”

That however makes her halt. She turns her head as she frowns, “What?” 

 “I’m taking a trip with my girl for Christmas. Gonna show her a nice time. We’re gonna be in Florida, in the keys.”

“You’re engaged six months after our divorce?” Her frown becomes deeper, “I haven’t even been out of the house for three months.”

He rolls his eyes, “We’ve been separated since last holiday. I’ve been with her since before you moved out, and I proposed to her three months ago. She’s my future. What, you expecting me to be pining over your miserable ass?”

She could take a lot of his beatings. But this particular conversation was viscerally pissing her off. She turned to fully look at him, raising an eyebrow as she questions, “Who the fuck is miserable?”

He stands to his feet and crosses his arms, “You’ve been sulking over being a single mom since we’ve been separated. I’d actually be surprised if you kept the next nigga you’re fucking on. You’re pathetic. Why do you think you’re here, playing with paint and clay in a tiny ass studio?”

His words were hitting her harder than she expected them to. Saying these harsh things to herself was one thing, but hearing them from the person that caused most of her misery was deafening. She hated that she was about to cry. But this was anger, and she wanted to become violent.

 She takes the duffle bag that holds her daughter’s items, chucking it at him as she spits, “You can wait for Sai in the car. Get the fuck out.”

He catches the bag, the items in it falling out in the process. He laughs, “It’s like you never even left the house,” He walks closer to her, “You think you’d be less of a miserable bitch after two months on your own.”

“You sound like an ignorant ass nigga right now. I’d advise you to back up before I put you in between this fuckin’ table and work station,” she threatens, uncaring if tears were coming in her eyes. Her hands were shaking. 

“Your new nigga gave you some balls or something? Now you’ can talk to me crazy?” 

She was entirely too angry to see anything else at this moment. So angry that she didn’t even hear the bell jingle atop of her studio, Nathaniel in the way of the door.

Her eyes peer into the doorway, seeing Toji standing there, eyes immediately narrowed, clutching his fist along the bouquet of flowers he holds. 

“You’ good?” 

The question echoes in her mind, almost like a replay of a situation they had before. She blinks in between the both of them as she says, “I’m fine—“

“You know I wasn’t asking you, Stoney.” 

He tries to be as respectful as possible when it comes to her ex-husband for the sake of Sai, but walking in to see him standing over her, he couldn’t hold his mouth this time. 

Before she can give a reaction, Toji drops the flowers within his hand, his face nearly able to burn the skin off of Nathaniel as he continues, “Nah, fuck that.” 

He’s fast, incredibly fast as he’s already making his way towards Nathan, which makes Stoney’s eyes go wide, panicked as she flies around him to grip Toji’s arm, not expecting him to have this reaction.

 She holds him as she confirms, “I’m fine, okay? I’m fine,” she confirms, only wanting to diffuse the situation. 

Toji knocks his head down to look at her. He looks back up at Nathaniel, who’s still standing there with a look of annoyance on his face, but something else within his eyes. Hesitance. 

His jaw clenched as he relaxed a bit, her touch feeling like it’d been forever, almost wanting to thank himself for the cause.

“I’m good.”

Thankfully, Sai appears, seeing her father as she greets, “Daddy!” Excited to see him, jumping up within his arms.

Toji looks down at the child, his features instantly softening as he sees the girl in her father’s arms. Seeing her cheerful smile, she had no idea of the tension in the room.

Nathan gives her a soft kiss on the head, “Hey, baby girl. You’ ready to do some Christmas shopping?”

“Yeah!” Sai says with a big smile, her arms going around his neck for a hug. 

Stoney clears her throat as she gently pulls Sai in to kiss her cheek, leaning down to quickly pick up her stuff that's fallen out of the duffle she’d chucked at Nathaniel, “Let Daddy take pictures of you, okay? I wanna see you having fun with him. And call me if you need anything, okay?” 

Sai smiles at her mom, and nods in reply, giving her a little wave, “Okay, mommy! Love you!” 

Toji watches as Stoney gives her daughter attention, seeing her pick up the items on the floor. He leans down, picking the stuff up with her, taking the bag out of her hand as he reaches it out to Nathaniel.

Nathaniel is still just glaring at Toji, who was waiting patiently for a reaction. Nothing. No talking goes into Nathan taking the bag from him. 

Sai’s sweet voice waves, “Bye, Mr. Snake Man!” as they exit out of the studio.

Toji gives the kid a little wave, and puts on a small grin. When they exit completely, his jaw finally unclenches, taking in the sight of Stoney. It was like seeing her again for the first time.

“You okay?”

He looks down at her fingers, watching how they shake from the previous situation. She’d been crying. Toji brings a palm up, grabbing her hand, unable to stop himself from just wanting to comfort her. 

“I’m fine.”

“Quit lying to me.”

She pulls her hand away, “What’s with the flowers? How’d you even know about the studio?” 

He wants to re-clench his jaw from her pull away. This was his second time seeing her in two months, and she still had her walls up. 

“You ran off on me at career day. I didn’t know Sai went to school there.” 

“Well—you know now,” she dismisses, turning as she begins cleaning up the rest of her studio. She can feel him following behind her, even beginning to pick up items himself to help her clean. 

He continues, “Serena told me about the studio before I left career day. I ended up asking Sai if she needed more flowers in her garden, she said you had pulled some of the Hibiscus’. So—I thought you needed some more,” he takes the bouquet off the table, reaching them towards her. 

Her eyes narrow down at the flowers, “Fucking Serena. Of course,” she presses her tongue within her cheek, turning away to gather the mats off the table. 

His dark grey eyes don’t leave her, watching as she walks around, trying to keep herself composed. When she refuses to take the flowers, he takes them back, setting them on the table, but not taking his eyes from her. 

“You gonna cut your sister off for giving me the name of your studio?”

“Serena couldn’t hold water in a bucket if a gun was to her head,” she retorts, scanning his attire, his overalls and wife beater showing he must’ve been at work, “I don’t need the flowers.”

“Are you upset about what I said to Nathaniel?”

She sighs, halting her steps, “Toji. I didn’t need you to play bodyguard. I can fight my own battles with him.”

Toji leans his forearms down on the table, veins flexing as he watches her pause her steps, finally looking him in the eyes again. 

“I know you can handle your own battles with him. I know. But he’s a fuckin’ prick. Needs his fuckin’ skull bashed in, I see the way he makes you feel. He hurts your feelings.”

She crosses her arms over her chest, raising an eyebrow at him. He then says, “I’m sorry. I wasn’t tryna impose.”

“Well you did. Why are you here, Toji?”

“I miss you.”

She now raises both eyebrows, “You had two months to get over me. I think you’ll survive.”

“I can’t. So now what?”

She looks up at him, tilting her head slightly as she says, “Look, you did your big one, okay? Let me give you my sob story about my past relationship, fucked me, but we’re both grown as fuck. You don’t know me, and you enjoyed yourself. Why can’t we just leave it there?” 

“That’s what you think? That I just wanted to fuck you?”  

She shrugs, “I don’t know. But I have a life to make for myself and my child, I’m not tryna bring you into my bullshit. Seeing what just happened was enough to understand that.”

He comes even closer to her, feeling his body temperature rising, his eyes not leaving hers.

“You think I’m gonna let you write me off that easily? You think I can’t handle whatever you throw at me? Like I’m weak or some shit?”

“I never said you were weak.”

She feels her own body wanting to pull closer to him. Her heart thumps in her chest as she tilts her head up to look at him, able to smell his scent. 

He then says to her, “My birthday’s coming up.” 

She gives him a fake smile, patting his arm as she says, “Hm, Happy early birthday then. Hopefully you can find some girl to bounce her ass on you,” she goes around him, focusing back on picking up the work mats.

“I’m cool off that, I’d rather you be the one bouncing your ass on me.”

She scoffs, huffing as she turns towards him, “Why are you still here?”

“I want you.”

“Okay?”

He moves as she moves, refusing to let the space between them become too much. His eyes follow her as she tries to go around him, his scarred lip twitching. 

She raises an eyebrow, “Is something funny?”

“You’ not even gonna ask me what I’m doing for my birthday?” 

She sighs, pausing her movements again. 

“What are you doing for your birthday, Fushiguro?”

“Taking you wherever you wanna go. You deserve a real date.”

“Toji.” 

He raises an eyebrow as she says his name like that, clearly frustrated with him. 

“What? You’ done being stubborn now?”

“I’m tired of playing chicken with you.” 

“So tell me where you wanna go then.”

She squints, letting out a sigh as she begins to walk past him, sarcastic as she says, “I’ve always wanted to see Rome, Italy for Christmas. It looks beautiful there.”

“Rome, huh?” 

His eyes watch her ass as she walks past him, wanting to follow her anywhere she went.

 “I’ve heard the food is good as fuck, too. I’ll book the tickets tonight. You’ got three days to pack.”

Her entire body halts. She turns towards him as he begins walking out of the studio, “I was joking, Toji.”

When he’s still walking, she begins following after him, feet scrambling to catch up with his large strides as she alarmingly repeats, “I was joking!”

He then turns back to her, jaw clenching as he says, “I’m about to be thirty-three, Stoney. Imma’ grown ass man. Do you think I’m playing about you?”

She steps back a bit, hearing the seriousness in his tone. She then says, “I think you’re hard headed as fuck.”

“You can cuss me out on the plane. You’ need my card to go shopping?” 

She quickly says, “No,” as he’s already pulling it from his wallet, ready to hand it to her.

He raises an eyebrow in response, “What, money scares you too? Damn, I thought it was just snakes.” 

“Funny, jackass,” she snatches the card from him, “Now you’re finna’ go bankrupt.”

He leans in closer to her, his jaw clenching as he smiles down at her—the bastard was sexy. 

“I got more money than I need. I’m greedy as fuck, you know that.” 

“Goodbye, Fushiguro,” she finalizes, lightly pressing his chest, backing him out of her studio.

“You sure you don't want a goodbye kiss?”

“You can kiss my ass,” she tells him, quickly pulling away as she closes the door to the studio, waving at him through the glass panel.

He raises his hand up, doing a little wave back, knowing she can see the smirk on his face through the window. She has to hold back the small smile that comes to her face as he looks almost like a child, nearly tripping as he makes his way back to his truck. 

She trips as she makes her way over to her phone, going to her emergency contacts as she immediately dialed her sister's number.

“You better be dying, Stoney. I am laid up playing General Hospital, and I do mean that in the nastiest way.” 

“You’ll be dying cause imma’ kill you! He’s taking me to Italy, Serena.” 

“WHA—HUH?!”

                          𝓐ᥫ᭡

THREE DAYS OF PREPARATION WAS OVERWHELMING. She bought mostly black attire, flimsy, sexy, but she refused to admit that any of it was to get his attention. She’d even had Serena take out her sew-in—wash her hair, blow it out, and replace it with all new bundles. New makeup, shoes, even new scents of perfume. She felt ready. 

She watched as he placed her two suitcases in the back of his truck, “Think you packed up your whole house?”

She sighs, “Well one is my clothes bag, the other is my hair and makeup bag.”

“Hair and makeup bag?” He repeats, “You didn’t need a whole bag full of that. You look good enough already.”

“Quit flirting. Oh—“ she pauses, pulling the dark green 

Telfar off her shoulder as she reaches in, “Um—I got you your cigarettes. Thought you might’ve needed some. But you can’t smoke them on the plane, okay?” She raises the box in her hand, “The guy told me there’s organic tobacco in these.” 

His eyes run up her form, taking in her frame dressed in a black hoodie and sweatpants set, matching Toji’s attire accidentally. Her edges swirled along her forehead as she had in an orchid claw clip, freckled face covered by her glasses, skin coaxed by the cloying scent of her vanilla perfume. 

He slowly grabs it from her fingers, inspecting the label, “Organic tobacco?” He says with a smirk, “You tryna make me healthy, now?”

“Maybe,” she says softly, “You’ ready to go?”

He looks back to her, seeing an almost doe-eyed look within her face, genuinely concerned for his health. She was cute. 

“Been ready for three days, baby,” he grunts, reaching for her hand, “Come on,” opening the passenger seat of his truck, “Sure we don’t need to add your ass as a third check bag?” 

“Boy, hush.” 

She leans her head along the window, watching out as they pass the city. The nervousness she had was gone, but she felt…hesitant with him. 

Her head came up as she saw them pulling behind the airport, raising an eyebrow as she questions, “We aren’t flying with the airport lines?”

“Nah, I chartered a private plane. Caught an alligator out of a client's backyard, said he could give me the hook up—gave me a decent price on a jet.”

Her eyes glanced at the cream colored jet, seeing as workers began making their way towards his truck as she questions, “And how decent was the price of a jet to Italy, better yet—how big was the gator?” She frowns, blinking in surprise.

He watches her eyes gaze up at the jet, looking to the workers as they approach, “Big enough. Don’t ask too many questions.”

She rolls her eyes, watching as he pulls a cigarette from the box she’d gifted him. She gives a polite smile to the workers that begin unloading his truck, opening the door as he steps out to smoke. 

She comes around as she almost pouts like a child, “You said you wouldn’t smoke on the plane.”

He takes a hit from the cigarette, releasing the smoke from his mouth as he leans against the side of his truck, “Never said that shit. Plus, I thought these were supposed to be healthy for me?” 

She sighs, “I shouldn’t have told you that.”

He wraps his arm around her neck, pulling her forward with a chuckle as he blows out the smoke. She wasn’t used to a man being so…playful with her, making her feel like she didn’t have to be so aware and parental. She could relax.

He blows the smoke into her face to tease her, watching as her nose crinkles up and she waves a hand in front of her, attempting to disperse the toxins. 

“You’re cute as fuck when you’re annoyed.”

“And you’re annoying when you’re…annoying.” 

He raises an eyebrow, “That’s what you came up with?”

“I’m going to the plane!” 

She begins making her way towards the jet, waving politely to the workers as they open the door for her, ignoring Toji as he calls, “I hate to see you go, but I love to watch you leave!”

Pulling through the small door of the jet, the size of it made her nervous, this being her first time in one. The seats were big and luxurious, wine glasses and fruit along the small section they had holding food and drinks. She felt a bit overwhelmed at the effort he’d put in.

She sat with a space between Toji as she wanted to lay down, having her arms wrapped around her legs. But the moment they began takeoff, she frowned lightly at how fast the jet was moving, scooting herself closer to him, her anxiety now a bit on the higher scale.

“Scared?”

“What, are you gonna make fun of me cause I’m not a big fan of planes?”

“Why would I do that?” he questions, solemn to his voice. It makes her feel almost embarrassed, like she assumed something out of him.

She exhales, “My bad,” pulling her hands along her arms, feeling herself becoming colder.

“Don’t start that apologizing bullshit. You could’ve just came closer,” he mutters, grabbing her waist and pulling her close to his lap, her head now resting along his legs, his palm almost too warm as he rubs the skin between her thighs and ass.

It makes her take in a bit of breath, still trying to get used to his touch all over again. The minute he pulled the blanket from behind the chair while still rubbing her cold skin, her eyes felt heavy, and she felt extremely comforted by his touch. It wasn’t long before her lashes met with her cheeks.

He looked down at her—the way the sunlight from the window streamed off her face, her long lashes, freckles igniting from the light around her head, cascading along the skin of her shoulder, her breathing a melodic tune. 

Fuck. He was becoming addicted to her all over again.

She didn’t realize how long she’d been asleep. When her eyes opened again, she noticed as her arm pulled around his stomach, face deep within his abdomen as she slept. His hand had instinctively made its way to the back of her head, stroking the back of her neck, rubbing lightly at the skin.

“You’re always so warm,” she says softly, burying her face back into his lap, “Like I have two blankets,” she hums.

He chuckled, letting his hand go from the back of her neck to her waist, his hand now rubbing her ass through her sweats as he looked down into her now opened eyes.

“You’ still tired?”

She shakes her head, “No,” then looks up, seeing as his eyes are focused along his phone, a video playing as she asks, “What you’ watching?”

 “NFL highlights. I put money on the Eagles to win today. They’re losing. I’m about to flip the plane upside down.”

“Oh god, you’re already starting to act your age. Checking sports at random times of the day. Should I start calling you Grandpa?”

“You could call me something else.”

“Never mind. You’re still a child,” she rolls her eyes, “How far are we now?”

“We’re still about an hour out,” he looks back to his phone, “Why? You’ got somewhere else to be?”

“Mmm, maybe. Might find me a sexy ass Italian man and run off with him—“ he’s already leaning his face down close to hers, making her giggle as he grunts at her words, “Yeah, okay. You can run off with him if they find his body.” 

The last hour before they land, he can see her becoming more comfortable with him. It’s a side of her that he hadn’t gotten to see before. She sits up, changing her entire position as she straddles his lap, pressing pecks along his jaw, wanting to touch him in any way she could. His eyes were still along his sports as she used him as her own personal playground, allowing her to pull the hairs off his arms, scratch the scalp of his hair, even plucking his eyebrows at one point. He didn’t mind any of it. 

The moment they hear the pilot go over the intercom of the jet, Stoney leans over at the window, peering down at the overhead of their destination—Rome, Italy.

The sight of the overhead lights of the city, the way the sunset beamed through the sky, he could see the way her eyes lit up in awe. The moment they land, they’re met with the chauffeur as he places their bags in the trunk of the Cadillac Escalade, making their way out of the airport. 

She peered out the window as they drove into the city, the roads small, bricked cement along the ground, pastel buildings and infinite amounts of greenery everywhere she looked. The vehicle glides through the crowded streets, the sounds surrounding them in a buzz. Horns were going off constantly and people walking along the sidewalks, their voices blending into a constant hum. 

When they pull into the driveway of what essentially could be a villa, Toji tips the chauffeur, hopping out of the truck as he pulls their suitcases onto the ground. Stoney looks up at the Mediterranean styled home, glancing down at the stained glass double doors.

The moment they make it inside, a beautiful marble and hardwood space is made up of open-concept. The living room is surrounded by large windows able to see out into the streets. The kitchen is made out of a beautiful white stone, a large island sitting in the middle with a dining room table in the next room. Two doors lead into the bedroom, a vintage look to it, champagne comforter set with a fancily carved headboard, long golden curtains high along the ceiling, leading to a spacious balcony.

Stoney’s eyes couldn’t find one place to look. She’s so distracted by the beauty of this house, she’s pulled away as she feels a pair of arms sneak along her hips, feeling his breath along her neck, holding her close to him. 

She sighs, rubbing the skin of his arm as she tells him, “How are you trying to impress me on your birthday?”

He chuckles against her neck, the feeling of his lips against her skin sending shivers down her spine as his chin rests along the curve of her shoulder. One of his hands slowly travels over her hoodie, gently tracing the skin of the side of her abdomen.

“Don’t gotta impress you, baby. Just trying to make you comfortable. You’ comfortable?”

She nods her head as she breathlessly replies, “Mhm,” before she then adds, “You should go shower. You still haven’t told me how you wanna celebrate tonight.”

He hums against her skin, his lips slowly caressing her neck in an open mouthed kiss, “You’re tryna avoid me.” 

The laugh that comes from her lips is forced, awkward even. It was as if they hadn’t already been together on the drive there, the plane ride, all of it. But they were here now, in this intimate space, and maybe that intimidated her a bit. 

She squeezes his arm tighter as she lies, “No. I just take forever to get ready and think you should go first. Womanly shit. And—I’m hungry,” she adds on, turning towards him, lightly pulling away as she gives him a smile.

He could see the unease in her eyes, and that familiar shyness that would always take over her. He nods his head as he lets her pull away, keeping a hold of her hand, a subtle understanding in his eyes, “What do you want for dinner?”

“I’d ask you that, birthday boy,” she brings her arms around his neck to make sure she wasn’t being awkward, “What are you in the mood for?”

“You really wanna know what I’m in the mood for?”

The question seems innocent, but she knew it wasn’t. She was blushing hard enough. When he chuckles at her slow blinking at him, she sighs out, “Toji…” hearing his amusement as he brushes his nose against hers, finally allowing her to breathe as he pulls back to go shower.

He turns to make his way down the hall to the bedroom, calling over his shoulder,  “I’ll be done in twenty minutes, don’t set the house on fire while I’m gone.”

Her eyes follow him, the way his back muscles flex as he peels the hoodie he wears while walking towards the bathroom, nearly tilting her body to follow him with her vision. 

She mindlessly replies, “….Okay.” 

God.

It was starting to become a game of cat and mouse. The only thing was, Stoney wasn’t sure which part she played. He came out of the shower with a towel wrapped along his hips just begging to fall, his large arms reaching up as he dried his dark hair, muscles flexing along his stomach with every move he made, tattoos almost moving with him.

All of the thoughts she had smacked her upside the head like a brutal fight, driving her insane. She moved around him as she went into the bathroom. 

She took her time on her hair and makeup, wanting to look as good as possible. Her dark hair was pin straight, layers prominent within the dark shine of her tresses. Her lashes create a cat-eye, dark liner in her bottom lid, a mauve and a dark brown mixture along her lips. Even if she’d gotten the approval from her sister, she felt…strange in her dress.

 It was sexy, purposeful to catch someone's eye. The black silk somehow clung to her frame, but still had a flow to it, spaghetti straps along her shoulders, lace clutched along her breast, nearly showcasing the brown of her nipples if you looked close enough. The left side of it had a slit all the way to her hip, giving the illusion that she wore nothing under. She pressed her lips together as she pulled her hair behind her ear, tilting to the side as she checked herself out. 

Her eyes then follow over to the open door, seeing as Toji’s frame now stood there, suit clutched to his figure as it fit him perfectly. His tie was still loose, buttons open from the top as he was getting himself ready. In all of that, his jaw visibly tightened at the sight of her. 

“…Is it too much?” she softly asks.

He walks up behind her, his hands trailing over her hips, watching her face in the mirror through his darkened gaze. His eyes roam over her frame, taking in the lace along her chest, the skin of her neck. 

“Turn.”

She turns towards him with a breath, the sound of his voice making her want to vibrate. She squeals as he places her along the counter of the bathroom, holding him as if she would fall. 

“Please say something else before my brain explodes.”

He chuckles, his hands clutching the skin of her legs, fingers running along her thigh, going under the silky material of the dress. He could practically feel her skin trembling underneath his palms as he looked over her.

“Christ, baby,” his voice comes out raspy as his eyes roam over her body, his fingers gently squeezing her thigh. “Shit is almost criminal at how good you look.”

She exhales at that, “You okay with the dress?” Her eyes glance back and forth, seeing that the question almost confused him.

“If you’re asking whether or not I give a fuck about you showing your body, the answer is I don’t. I know how to fight,” he tells her, his words making her giggle a bit as he gives a kiss to her neck, trailing up her jaw.

The moment she feels him close to her lips, she pulls his mouth back as she questions, “Need help with your tie?”

He lets out an amused huff as she pulls his mouth away, trying to distract herself. He smirks a little as he answers, “I’m grown as fuck. But yeah, do it for me.”

She wraps her fingers along the silk as she begins tying it around his neck, rolling her eyes as she says, “I’m aware, you’re six years older than me. That’s like fifty-thousand years.”

“Very funny.”

 He watches intently as she ties the tie around his neck, her fingers touching the silk, making sure it was proper. 

He smirks a bit as he asks, “You’ gonna be a smartass all night long?”

“Anyways, I couldn’t find much on the restaurants close by, the more local places seem to not be searchable. It also looks like we’ll have to walk a bit to see all the pretty stuff. Ooh! I see the Colosseum isn’t too far away, and apparently around this time they have a big Christmas tree next to it! I wanna take a bunch of pics for Sai to see,” she smiles, “And then there’s this beautiful church with all these paintings of angels on the ceiling, and you can take pictures of it!” She’s rambling, buttoning up the top he wears beneath his suit jacket. 

She halts herself a bit, pulling back her fingers as she says, “Sorry. We can do whatever you want first, of course.”

He watches her ramble on, a small smile on his face as she listed out the things she read about and that piqued her interest. 

“I wanna go wherever you wanna go, baby,” he tells her, his voice coming off a bit softer than usual, “You’re the one excited to see this stuff, so let’s do that first.”

God, she hated being soft with this man. To hear him sincerely tell her that, she closes the final button on his suit, trying to hide her smile as she girlishly replies, “Okay.”

“We gotta go soon before we don’t leave. You look too fuckin’ good in this dress right now.”

“Down, boy,” she giggles, watching as he pulls on her Christian Louboutin ballet heels, giving a kiss to her feet as he ties the satin along her ankles. He pulls her off the counter with a smack to her ass, grunting as he kisses her forehead with a, “C’mon.” 

Seeing the sun set along the city was a sight. It seemed like the night made it wake up from its daily slumber, bodies crawling along the brick ground as she led the way. Her eyes traveled along the pastel colored buildings, the smell of food, music strumming from musicians along the street, windows freely open from neighborhood apartments.

It’s almost as if love fills the air. She watches as people sit on the outside, kissing and touching one another in romantic forms, continuing to pull him past a lit up flower shop—she can’t help but slow down. Her eyes fall along the pastel pink petals, yellow within the middle of it.

She gasps softly, “They’re Lotus flowers…”

He stops as soon as she pauses, his eyes going to the flowers that caught her eye. The petals looked pristine and vibrant, so much as if they’d been grown out of magic. Seeing how she carefully touched them, almost as if she’d break them in two, they looked like the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen. 

“You like them?”

“They’re pretty,” she smiles gently, “Sai would love these in our little garden.”

“They’re yours, then. Take as many as you want.” 

He’s already at the register, propping a cigarette in between his lips, beginning to exchange the cash he carried for euros with the cashier as he pulled out his wallet.

She tilts her head, pursing her lips, “Don’t be funny, Toji. How am I supposed to get flowers across the country?”

“I’ll hire an entire fuckin’ army to deliver them if you need me to.” 

She sighs lightly, holding the bouquet close to her chest. She thanks the cashier as he smiles, standing against her heels as she presses a kiss to his cheek, “You’re such a sweet bean. Sai will love these.”

He huffs a bit at the kiss on the cheek, her lips feeling impossibly warm against his skin.

“Yeah, okay,” he mutters within her ear, kissing her cheek back, “Let’s go.”

As they continue walking farther down, she spots a restaurant across the bridge. Christmas decorations hang all along the tent of the building. She clutches his hand a bit tighter, using her other hand to hold her bouquet as she turns to him, “Can we go to that one?”

“We gotta get on a boat to get to that one,” he mentions.

Her eyes fall down into the water, seeing a man sitting on the end of a thin canoe, swaying the paddles idly. She raises her eyebrow as she says, “Boat? That shit is small as fuck. How isn’t he flipping on that?”

He chuckles at her response, “You never seen a gondola?”

She narrows her eyes, “Oh, so you think you’re better than me? Why you’ know what that is? You fucked a bitch from Italy or something?”

He blinks slowly at her, playing along as he replies, “Yeah, my passport’s stamped as hell.” 

“Oh, well how about you call your lil’ foreign hoes to come celebrate your birthday? I’d rather swim than get on a canoe with you!”

“Gondola.”

“Whatever the fuck!” 

She waves politely at the man, taking his hand instead of Toji’s as she steps down onto the navy blue boat. Her heel makes her wobble a bit, the feeling of the water making her tense as she sits along the bench, taking a deep breath as they become situated. 

The moment they began moving, she could feel everything beneath them, including the water swaying. These moments seemed romantic enough in movies, but right now, it was kinda terrifying. The moment the paddle had the entire boat sway, she placed her flowers along Toji’s lap, gripping the end of his suit jacket as she exhaled. 

“Don’t make fun of me.”

“Even after you were just talking shit?”

She goes to talk more shit, the boat teetering, her mouth clasping shut as she grips him tighter, laying her head against his shoulder as she nearly whimpers, “Toji.” 

He sighs, wrapping his arms around her, pulling her even closer, “You’re good, momma. Sai will still have a parent by the end of this boat ride.”

She nods her head, keeping her eyes fluttered closed. He then says, “Unless…”

“Unless what?” her head peaks up. 

“Every night in my dreams—I see you, I feel you…”

She blinks, “You are not singing the Titanic song right now. You’re not funny. You’re just not,” she pouts, hiding her face within his shoulder. 

They finally arrive along the other side of the street, Stoney beginning to walk faster until she makes it to the restaurant, finally accepting Toji’s hand, following the host who sits them down.

“I’m not talking to you for like five minutes,” she huffs, placing her flowers against the extra chair, “That was mean.”

“I see where Sai gets that pouting shit from. It’s cuter when she does it.”

Stoney rolls her eyes, taking the menu and smacking his palm with it, “Say you’re sorry.”

He rubs his hand where she smacked, “Damn,” he mutters, before letting out a sigh, “Apologies for scaring you on the gondola, my lady.”

She smiles, “It’s okay. And stop smoking,” she reaches over to pull the cigarette from his mouth, his entire body conveniently moving back, opening his legs a bit as he manspreads along the chair, continuing to puff his cigarette. 

She hated how good he looked in a suit. The moment he orders a whiskey as she orders a crown and Coke with lime, her eyes glance over him again, patting her fingers against the table.

“I had some questions for you,” she says, her slender eyes sparkling under the lights.

He shifts in his seat, taking another drag of his cigarette, the smoke slowly leaving his lips as he raises his eyebrows, listening intently. 

“Go ahead.”

“Mmm…well, where are you from?” 

He places the cigarette in between his fingers, bringing the whiskey glass to his lips as he takes a small sip, his eyes never leaving hers. 

“Tokyo,” he simply says, his voice coming out a bit huskier than usual.

“Why come to the states? Were there no reptiles to wrangle out in Tokyo? Or someone that needed help moving?” She questions.

He chuckles a bit at her words, shaking his head as he answers, “No one was willing to pay me what I wanted. Started helping a friend move boxes, and decided I wanted my own company. Ended up helping a family get a snake out their house, it piqued another interest. Is this an interview?”

She rolls her eyes, “This is a date, we have to get to know each other!”

“My fault. You’re right, pretty. Continue.”

“Hm…so Japanese was your first language?”

He hums as his eyes roam over her, watching her take sips of her drink, seeing the way the lights in the restaurant made her skin glow gently. 

“Yeah,” he confirms, setting his glass back down onto the table, “Didn’t learn English until I was thirteen. Took a while to learn, shit was hard.”

“Tell me something,” she asks him, leaning more forward on the table, “Japanese is pretty. Wanna hear it from your mouth.”

His lips curve up as she leans forward on the table in front of him, her eyes looking intently. He doesn’t hesitate in his response, his voice coming out deeper, the language sounding more intimate, almost as if it were being spoken only for her to listen to. 

“Anata to sekkusushitai,” he murmurs, his eyes locked on hers.

She blinks as his voice lowers, tilting her head as she questions, “Gonna say it in English now?”

“Tell me what you think I said,” he offers, his tongue running along his lip before he grabs his cigarette, taking another puff.

“Something you ain’t have no business saying,” she squints, “I knew you didn’t like me. Cause you don’t wanna tell me! I’m not your type. Do you even like black women?”

He raises an eyebrow, “So that’s what we’re doing now?”

She crosses her arms, “Well, yes! I mean, do you? How do you know how to handle a black ass situation? What you’ gonna do if you’re fucking me, and you’re pulling my hair too hard that my wig comes flying off? Cause that can happen!” 

“Shit, guess I gotta start pulling at your braids then.”

She presses her hands over her face as she squeaks, “Ah! Nooo. You did not just say that. I’m about to faint,” she fans her face, ignoring the full on laugh that comes from him.

“That’s not what you wanted to hear, huh? That I’m gonna grip—“

“Please stop. I beg.” 

“Well, don’t question how I feel about you then. You should know that shit by now.” 

They then order their food, Toji noticing as Stoney constantly checks the flowers beside her, gently touching them every few seconds. 

He raises an eyebrow, “Think they’re gonna fly away?”

“I’m just tryna think how I could preserve them for Sai. She’ll be so happy.”

His jaw clenches a bit at the sight of her beaming,  wanting to be as close to her as possible. Instead, he keeps his hands to himself as he then states, “Talk to me about Sai.”

She blinks, “About Sai?”

Taking another puff from his cigarette, his eyes don’t leave her face as he nods in response, “Yeah, your face lights up every time you say her name. I wanna keep that up.”

The sentence makes her a bit warm, but she knows how happy the thought of her child makes her. She says, “Well, she’s been doing really good since she started school. She gets along with the other kids, and she’s inviting them to have a sleepover for her birthday. I’m not sure what theme she wants, I think Minnie Mouse but then she said that all the girls at school right now like BRATZ, which shocked me, considering that was the thing when I was younger. She likes Hello Kitty too, but I think she might’ve outgrown her a bit. I’m tryna get her to like Strawberry Shortcake, cause I love that brand and want an excuse to buy a bunch of shit.” 

She heard herself talking and talking, pulling herself back a bit as she lightly laughed, “Yeah…but she’s—she’s great. She’s happy to be with her dad for Christmas, even if he isn’t my favorite person in the world.”

She slows down on her continuation, noticing the way he stares at her. She raises an eyebrow, “What?”

“Nothing.” 

He takes another drag from his cigarette, his eyes never once leaving hers, “Just seeing how long I could keep you talking. Your voice is prettier than fuckin’ angels singing.”

Her heart flutters a bit, eyes pulling away as they place the pasta with meatballs along the table, the large heart shaped pepperoni pizza making Stoney want to dreamily sigh like a princess. She watches as Toji digs the spoon within the plate, swirling the utensil in between the noodles and placing it towards her mouth. She immediately opens in response, pulling the food in, humming as it tasted delicious.

She groans, “Either this is too good or I’m just starving.”

“Probably both. You were too busy acting like you didn’t fuck with me to have a meal before we got here.”

He takes his thumb to wipe a bit of pasta sauce from the corner of her mouth, “You’re making a mess, momma. Don’t need you crying that your dress is ruined.”

As she feels him wiping sauce off the side of her mouth, the buzz of her cocktail creeps its way in. It’s like all of her alcohol had suddenly shot down between her legs. She was a lightweight, unfortunately. 

Otherwise, she wouldn’t have leaned forward, grabbed his finger, wrapped her lips around it and began sucking the sauce off herself. Her feline eyes see his jaw tighten, blinking innocently as she questions, “Am I clean?”

“Chill. I’m tryna’ be good.”

She giggles, pulling herself back, her eyes becoming low as her voice is more smooth, “Think my little drink is catching up to me.”

There’s that damned laugh again. 

He groans as she pulls back, her voice going a bit lower, a new sultriness to it that makes his pants a bit uncomfortable. He runs a hand through his hair, shifting in his chair before muttering, “You’ good, pretty? Need some water?”

She shakes her head, “Mmm, no. Just want your hand, like when you rub my leg.”

He lets out another soft chuckle, his lips curving into a smirk. Taking another drag from his cigarette, he puts it out in the ashtray on the table, watching the smoke slowly leave his lips. Instead of putting his hand on her leg from under the table, he lifts her heel from beneath it, placing it along his lap as he begins rubbing the skin. 

“Like this?”

“Mhm,” she nods, “You’re such a sweetie to me. Look so handsome in your suit.”

“Nothing in comparison to your dress. You’re tryna kill me.” 

He looks around, seeing on the opposite side of the tables that a group of people stand around, dancing to the relaxing music a band plays not too far from the restaurant. 

He then asks, “When’d you open up that studio?”

“Not too long after we stopped talking,” she replies, playing with the straw in her glass, “My ex-husband always said my pottery business would never become more than chump change. So, I made myself a studio. Make decent money, too. I’ve never been so happy.”

“He‘s a fuckin’ idiot,” he comments, his voice coming out rougher. “Should’ve never doubted you. I’m proud as fuck of you, baby.” 

Something in his words makes her eyes twitch. It was like a damn breaking within a River, a sentiment she hadn’t felt before. Her eyes glance over to the people that dance, turning back as she reaches out for his hand, “Come dance with me?”

Despite having two left feet in his mind, there’s no universe in which he would ever turn down an offer to be close to her.

“Drink some water, then we can go,” he pulls the cup towards her mouth.

She waves him off, “I’m fine, Fushiguro. Jesus. I just feel a lil floaty, a cocktail did not put me on my ass. Everything just feels better at this moment, so I’m happy. Dance with me,” she repeats, standing as she yanks the larger man by his arm.

He doesn’t budge from his seat. With a sigh, she reaches for her water, sipping it heavily, watching as he then stands with a grunt, “Hard headed ass,” now pulling her to where the other couples stand, wrapping his fingers along her waist, satisfied with the way she brings her arms around his neck.

She can feel the way she presses all of her weight against him, so comfortable in his arms that his grip is the only thing keeping her from falling backwards. 

She sighs, “So, thirty-three—how do you feel about that age? Do you feel…accomplished in life?”

“Thirty-three’s cool,” he answers, his voice coming out lower, “I’m more interested in thirty-five. But at the moment, I got everything I need.”

“What’s everything to you?” 

The soft hum of music surrounds them, but all he can do is focus on her hair brushing against his skin, looking more captivating in the lights of the restaurant.

“I’m a business owner,” he replies, “Got a roof over my head, support in areas I need it. The only thing I’m missing is my stubborn ass woman to share that with.”

That sentence makes her clutch his suit a bit, unable to let the tipsiness that battles the sobriety of her mind ask questions she usually wouldn’t. 

She then asks, “Why do you want me, Toji? I mean—I have a kid, a shitty ex-husband to constantly deal with. Your life seems…nice. No turmoil, no one else’s baggage.”

“That’s your fuckin’ problem. You don’t see yourself the way I see you,” he grunts, his eyes looking almost darker as he continues to speak, “The way you ramble when you get excited, the way you laugh, the radiance you spread regardless of the shit you’ve gone through. You’re under my skin. You’ll be adding years onto my life.”

She blinks up at him, a sharp inhale quiet in her mouth at his words. She had been trying to push this man away all this time, and he wasn’t giving up. He had shown her an affection in close range that she’d never experienced before— there was no reason to be afraid of him. 

“…Solaya.”

She sees him raise an eyebrow, continuing as she says, “That’s…my real name. I don’t usually give it out—it’s a rarity,” she rubs her finger over his jaw, giving him a vulnerability she hadn’t given anyone else. 

Her words sink in, her name falling from her lips. She was giving him a part of her. He leans down to take in her scent—a mixture of the flowers surrounding them and that intoxicating vanilla. 

“I want you. I’ll chase you to the ends of the fuckin’ earth, Solaya.”

He grips her up more, her heels now coming along his shoes, twisting her around so that it makes her giggle, it being filled with so much sincerity. She leans her head up, pulling him down closer as she admits to him, “I want you too,” brushing her mouth along his jaw, her breath hitching at her own actions.

The moment he lowers his face, his mouth engulfs hers, trapping her within a kiss that made her feel like her head had been ducked in a bucket of water. His lips move with hers in a way that overpowers her mouth, kneeling her head back as he practically claims her within his actions.

Their lips move in sync, his hand gripping her jaw as he tilts her head back further, his tongue running along the flesh of her mouth. The air seems to suffocate them. 

She pulls him back, her face warm, pressing her forehead against his as she breathlessly giggles, “We’re in public, Fushiguro.”

It almost made him growl like an animal as he’s brought to reality—but he didn’t want to push. And to see the rush of blood on her cheeks, he pulls his mouth up to kiss her forehead as he grunts, “Let’s finish eating.”

Her comfortability now opened tenfold, talking his ear off in ways she’d never done before. He was there to listen to all of it. They’d finished their food, traveling back across the water where their villa met. She was now back to being full on tipsy, considering she had drunk some of his whiskey, knowing that the mixture would create an entirely different personality within her own. She was bold, talkative, and relaxed. Though, her feet did hurt. 

Toji had given her his socks so she wouldn’t walk along the ground barefoot, holding her heels and flowers in his free hand, his other holding hers. 

She grumbled as she took another step, “Ugh—fuckin’ expensive shoes should be comfortable.”

He stops walking, chuckling as the villa wasn’t too far ahead, “C’mere, pretty.”

“I’m fine—“ once again, she squeaks, unable to fight as he’s already swooping her up in his arms, now carrying her bridal style. 

“You don’t listen.”

He finally makes it to the door of the villa, tossing the keys along the nightstand close to it. She pressed herself back on the ground as she tossed the socks off her feet and took off, squealing, “I wanna see the sky tonight!” 

“You just wanted me to carry your sneaky ass, huh? Talking about your feet hurt.”

She finally gets to the balcony, pulling the doors as the cool night air brushes along her skin.  Night had come, the stars above illuminating the stars, and the moon glowing so beautifully that it was almost hypnotizing. With soft waves in the water, the breeze was just perfect.

She feels a clutch along the back of her dress, his voice husky as he states, “You’re gonna fall.”

“I’m fine,” she repeats, “Look at the moon!” She wraps his arms along her hips, wanting to feel his touch, “Isn’t it pretty?” She hums, leaning herself back against him, almost in the same position they were in earlier within the day.

“Ain’t as pretty as you, momma,” he mutters, nuzzling his face into her hair, taking in her sweet scent again.

“Being corny comes with the old man syndrome?” She questions, lightly laughing to herself, falling deeper into his chest.

He murmurs, “Being a smartass comes with that young woman syndrome?” His thumbs lightly caress against her skin, his breath fanning just beneath her ear.

She goes to answer—but the way his hands trail under the slit of her dress, wrapping his fingers along her inner thigh, she can’t seem to focus. 

The alcohol within her system has her trail her hand up behind herself, wrapping it to the back of his neck and pulling him down to where his lips meet her throat. 

“…I like when you kiss me here,” she says, her voice soft, quiet. 

He lets out a sharp inhale, his lips skimming along the skin of her throat, not yet making contact, “Where?” he asks, his voice low, “Here?” 

He presses his lips gently along the side of her neck, right along the flesh that she pulled him to. It makes her clutch him a bit tighter, the throb going in between her legs as her skin now feels sensitive to the touch. 

She nods her head, biting her lip lightly as she exhales, “…Yeah.” 

His lips continue to trail against that same spot, sucking and kissing against her neck lazily, leaving spots of red along her skin. He murmurs between kisses, “Talk to me. Tell me where else you’ want my mouth.” 

His touch was like no other, and the desire for him was aching at this point. It had been so long. She pulls her hair along one side of her shoulder as she leans forward a bit and whispers, “Lower…” 

His lips attach to the skin of her back firmly, “Yeah?” he asks, his voice low, “You want my mouth all over you, huh?”

Her body shudders as he presses his hand along her lower body, pushing her forward a bit so she has to lean against the balcony’s architecture. The straps of her dress are falling off her shoulders, revealing more of her back to him, her body almost tantalizing, moving like sultry choreography.

It’s almost as if something in her clicks, and she realizes that she’s along a balcony, the fear of someone seeing them giving her a reality check. It makes her face warm, her eyes fluttering open a bit as she turns back to him, “Toji—“

Her mouth clasps shut, his palms moving like fire as he pulls her dress up to her hips, yanking the lace of her thong, dragging his tongue up the entirety of her. She latches her palm along his hair, nudging herself forward as she stands on her toes, gasping all the air she had in her chest. She was speechless.

Her face screws up at the rush of pleasure that comes through, the feeling lost as she hadn’t been with anyone in months. She whimpers, “F—fuck. Wait—” 

“Been patient as fuck, baby. Just take it,” he tells her, his tongue slurping in between her folds, lapping her up like she was the last thing he’d ever eat. 

He groans deeply as his tongue delves between her thighs, savoring her taste and scent. He grips her ass firmly, kneading the supple flesh as he laps at her clit, growling against the heated skin.

Her back arches into him, her brain going fuzzy as her eyelids come together, the gasp that pulls from her lips nearly deafening, trying to push his mouth away as she whimpers, “We’re on the balcony, Fushiguro…” 

The sound of her whimper sends a jolt straight to his dick, already hard and straining against his pants. He doesn't care about the balcony; all he can think about is making her feel good. He continues his assault on her pussy, licking and sucking recklessly.

"You're fuckin’ drenched," he growls against her soaked folds, "Relax. Need you to gush in my fuckin’ mouth," His hands move to her hips, pulling her harder against his jaw as he devours her. 

He doesn't stop, can’t stop, his tongue swirls around her clit before sucking it between his lips, giving it a gentle tug.

Arousal drowning him within the ocean of her doesn’t feel like enough. He needs more. He spreads her apart, dipping his tongue deep inside her, the intrusion making her walls clench, Stoney slapping her hand along her mouth as she trembles out a moan. She feels him hold her thighs apart as he exposes her to the cool night air. The contrast only serves to heighten her arousal, and she cries out, her other hand flying deeper into his hair to keep him in place even as she tries to pull away. 

"Toji... please..." 

Toji's growl rumbles deep in his chest as he drinks in every drop of her, coating his tongue in her arousal. Her pleas, begging for release, only fuel his hunger for her. 

“Take your hand off your mouth,” he grunts in between, knocking his head side to side, his nose practically burying in between her legs. He’s almost drunk, intoxicated by her scent, loving the way she drips all over his face and jaw, wetter than she’d ever been for him.

She slides her fingers in between her lips, shaking her head as she whimpers, “Gonna be too loud.”

"I don’t wanna hear that shit," he snarls, his breath hot against her pussy as he sucks her clit back into his mouth, “Ride my fuckin’ face,” the vibrations sending shivers through her trembling body.

She bites down on her fingers, muffling her moans as best she could while still trying to ride out the intense pleasure coursing through her veins. Her thighs begin to quake, her toes pressing harder as she stands on the tips of her feet,  pushing her hips further onto his face, grinding herself against his eager mouth. 

His words are filthy, crude, but there's no mistaking the desperation in them. He needs this, needs her, more than anything. And judging by the way she's trembling, the way her juices are still dripping down his chin, she needs it too. But covering her sounds was starting to piss him off. 

He pulls his mouth back, Stoney feeling as he raises himself up, the intensity of her state keeping her body humming regardless of his missing touch. She’s too floaty to realize him wrapping his large arm around her neck, trapping her almost within a gentle headlock. She thought he was trying to kill her. 

His mouth is against her ear, heavily breathing within it, the sound making her heart pound in her chest. She’s unable to see but could feel the monster between his legs, her thighs immediately wanting to tighten as his pink tip nudged at her folds, stretching her out before he was even close to being inside. 

She’s already protesting, wanting to claw out of his hold, clutching her hand around the arm that holds her in place. He uses his free hand to slam his palm against her ass, Stoney shuddering out a gasp as she drags her nails against his skin, Toji tugging her even closer as he tsks, “Nuh-uh, quit all that,” sinking himself within her, bruising her walls in seconds, the sensitivity sending her in overdrive. She can feel her eyes welling with tears all too pleasurable, feeling as he locks his hips forward, dragging her ass back to clap against his abdomen, the sounds of her gushing like a faucet shocking to her own ears. She inhales deeply for seconds, shuddering out the craziest whine she’d ever heard come from her lips as tears fall down her face, feeling herself going into shock as she pushes back against him, squirting as if they’d been fucking for hours.

“Yeah? You’ cumming like that already?” 

He’s holding her in place, her eyes rolling to the back of her head, nearly breaking skin as she drags her nails down his arms, crying in repetitions, “I’m c—cumming, oh m—god,”  nearly wanting to be mad at him for the arrogant laugh that drops out his mouth. 

He growls into her ear, "You’re makin' a fuckin’ mess,” The wetness seeping down his dick making every thrust slicker, allowing him to plunge deeper each time he pulls his hips back, rocking them forward. 

He coos in her ear regardless of the loud noises she makes, “You’ cumming, baby? Yeahh, I hear it,” He grips her ass tighter, spanking her hard enough to leave marks, determined to keep her babbling.

She’s completely out of her mind. She thought about it often, having this pleasure again— it was embarrassing to see how much she needed it. Needed him. 

“Pussy missed me, baby,” he grunts in her ear, her eyes tightly shut as she groans, her skin bouncing against his hips sharply echoing within her mind, the cream of her arousal stickily spreading each time he thrusted in. It was creating more and more, she felt like she was going blind.

“Tryna’ keep her from me, who else is gonna fuck you like this?”

He’s in her brain, punctuating his words with each thrust. He leans in, capturing her ear as he kisses it, her whimpers and moans high pitched. He can feel her pushing back, sucking air into her mouth, her face caught into a frown from how good this all feels. He tightens his arm along her neck, coaching her through as he talks, "Doing good as fuck, momma. Take every inch.” 

His grip on her hips tightens, using the leverage to piston into her harder, faster. 

She reaches her free palm behind herself, pressing it along his hip and squeezing, whimpering immediately as he catches it, pulling the hand behind her back. She’s panting at that point, but giving no actual responses. He spanks her again, which drops a pleading moan from her mouth, rougher in fucking her as softly cries, “Baby…”

She’s just trying to get through the movements he gives her, feeling like she can’t. It’s too good. But it’s also unfortunate how badly he wanted to hear her voice. 

He releases her from that jail of a position, now possibly putting her in a worse one. He’s holding her upright as she now faces him, one leg draped over his shoulder, the other foot barely touching the floor. He’s got her pinned against the railing, her chest pressed against his, her throat constricted between his palm, needing her attention. 

“Put it in,” he grunts. 

Maybe she was right—he was actually trying to kill her. She attempts to pull his mouth down to kiss him, face warm as she didn’t want to keep seeing the stoicness of his expression. The scar on his lip twitches, as if he's amused by her shyness. He’s already slapping his tip against her clit, making her jump as she’s trying to catch her breath. 

She wraps her fingers along the tip, exhaling as she sinks herself down onto him, clutching the back of his hair as she pouts, “…You’re tryna make fun of me.”

He smirks at her accusation, enjoying the way she clutches his hair as she sinks down. He can feel every inch of her enveloping him, her walls clamping around his length as he arrogantly huffs, "Nah, just looking at your pretty ass face," pulling her hips back, tugging them forward, chuckling within her mouth, swallowing her desperate pleas as he tells her, “Fuck me. Take my dick however you want it.”

She’s breathless as she grinds herself against him—eyes fluttering shut, unable to handle his reaction to how she whimpered and whined for him. She was mewling at this point, her body pliant within his grip.

Her inhales are almost concerning, clasping him as if she feared that he’d let go of her. She rocks her hips down, pulling him up by his hair, pressing their foreheads together as she whimpers, “Nobody’s…ever made me feel this good…” 

Her words almost wreck him. 

Toji groans against her, his touch almost brutal as she pulls him closer. He feels the urge to have her all to himself, to be the only one to make her feel this way. To be the only one to take her apart.  

“Yeah? How good?” 

“So good,” her words are soft in cries as he latches his lips along her neck, “S—so good,” she repeats, mouth coming back up to his, breathless in her responses. 

Their lips press together gently, his hands moving to grip the back of her thighs in a possessive clench. He then takes her other leg to lift up, placing them both over his shoulders, Stoney quickly latching her arms around his throat, holding her fingers together in her palms. 

The sounds are filthy as he’s dropping her onto his dick, eyes rolling inside her mind to search for her sanity as they were in this tapout position, listening to the sound their skin makes together, Stoney’s mouth dragging out a desperate moan. 

“You heard me fuckin’ talking to you.”

 He circled back to his words earlier, balls becoming drenched with her arousal, squelching between their skin as the back of her thighs clap along his abdomen. 

He repeats, “Who is else is gonna fuck you like this, huh?” 

A hard thrust comes at the emphasis of his word, bottoming out inside of her, holding her close as she claws to be freed from him. She drags her nails within his back, pitiful in her sounds as she breaks,  “Ohshi— fuck, baby—” she’s gasping, “I don’t know.”

"Don't know?" He mocks, punctuating each word with even more hard, deep thrust, “You know.”

He leans in, his hot breath ghosting over her ear as he growls, "Pussy been mine, you’re too fuckin’ hard headed,” Another brutal thrust, his hips snapping up to meet hers, "And you love it, don't you?"

She’s sobbing at this point, too full of a deadly pleasure he fills within her veins, knowing just how she wanted to be fucked. She cracks, shuddering out whines as she nods, “Love it so much, baby, f—fuck. Take your pussy, baby. Fuck me. Please. Please…”

She pulls him closer, pressing their foreheads against one another as she softly says, “Missed you so much, Toji…” she’s hiccuping, her tears fluttering her eyes, seeming like they came from more than just pleasure. They were honest.

At her whispered confession, something shifts in Toji's expression. The lust is still burning in his eyes, but there's an underlying tenderness, a depth of emotion he rarely allows himself to show. He cups her face, thumb brushing away a tear as he murmurs, "Missed you too, momma. More than you know,” His voice is rough with unspoken feelings, the admission heavy in the air between them, tension being cut each time her clit gets a rush of pleasure from how deep he plunges inside of her. 

He holds her gaze, the intensity of his emotions palpable. Then, without warning, he captures her lips in a searing kiss, pouring all those hidden sentiments into the passionate embrace. His tongue delves deep, claiming her mouth as thoroughly as he claims her body. 

"I'm never letting you go again," he declares, his voice thick with conviction.

She gasps at his words, clinging back to his hair again, pulling him lower as she sighs, “I’m so sorry, I…” Her abdomen tightens, fighting against her words, “I’m cumming, I need you…”

At her desperate plea, Toji's resolve crumbles. He knows he should slow down, savor this moment, but the urgency in her voice is too powerful to resist. With a primal growl, he reclaims her mouth in a bruising kiss, burying himself so deep within her, she screams, attempting to cover her mouth, Toji snatching her palm, clutching her jaw back into his mouth, allowing her to fall apart against his lips.

As she gushes against him, Toji loses himself entirely, his own release rushing in a way he didn’t expect. He pounds into her, chasing his own pleasure with low moans as he drinks in her cries of ecstasy. The sound of skin slapping against skin, their ragged breathing, and her broken moans fill the room, creating a symphony of raw, uninhibited passion.

Toji finds his peak, his vision going white as wave after wave of pleasure crashes through him. He buries his face in the crook of her neck, muffling his moans of release against her skin as he pours everything he has into her. His eyes meet hers as she finally opens them, a look of vulnerability that shows the craving is mutual. His hips jolt, still pulsating inside her, prolonging their shared climax as he reaches up to clutch her hair in his fingers, pulling her mouth against his, forcing her into a nasty kiss. He wasn’t planning for her to go anywhere, and she wasn’t planning on going anywhere. He was gonna fuck her as many times as she wanted it, adore her as many times as she needed it—she was his. And so he did. 

Again, again, and again. 

[chocolate-teapots]

Testing Us: Ren McCormack

━━━━━━━━━▲━━━━━━━━━

In which Rusty gets the wrong sister.

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

My father's authority rained over the crowd of grey and beige with his spit and I wasn't talking about the guy upstairs.

"Every, every day, our Lord is testing us!"

You could hear my restless gaze in this quiet little church in our conservative little hometown.

"If he wasn't testing us, how would you account for the sorry state of our society..."

This was Sunday for the teenagers thrown in her to wipe them of sin by their parents but for me and my sister, this was life.

"For the crimes that plague the big cities of this country..."

A life where you wouldn't even dare dance in case your own blood would burn you at the stake.

"When he could sweep this pestilence from the face of the earth with one mighty gesture of his hand?"

It wasn't a question, religion was never up for discussion in Bomont.

"If our Lord wasn't testing us, how would you account for the proliferation these days of this obscene rock and roll music..."

My sister and I share a guilty look as we had more than one life in this tiny town and only one of them we could project to our father.

Not only was the arrow pointing to us obvious but there was another head at the other side of the room that hung low at the mention of something as normal and harmless as music. There must be a new boy in town as his reactions were not yet trained to hide away from the sea of judging eyes all doing God's work.

He was exciting, the same disinterest in the twinkle of his eye and fluffy hair and a striped suit that screamed big city. It was the place I wanted to go so I wanted to find out more about this guy. His eyes crawled the room at the mention of sexuality and he rubbed his tired eyes into his hand.

He must've had a long journey.

"If our Lord wasn't testing us, why, he could take all these pornographic books and albums and turn them into one big fiery cinder like that!"

I snickered a little at the mention of things such as these from my father, the hesitation on his lips was comedic and the way he said these words were like as if he tried speaking german for the very first time. It just sounded weird, wrong.

My little snicker made the spark on the other side of the fence turn towards me and hold a little grin everywhere but his lips that remained stoic. Seems he had this town figured out a little better than I thought...

He held my gaze there, challenging me to ignore these words of wisdom and turn to sin until a hand came smashing down from wood that made us jump higher than a terrified cat. I thought it was the big G until I saw the shame and passion in front of me continuing his weekly speech.

It was God's day after all.

That didn't stop him from turning his head once more, I grin with a lifted eyebrow as to portray my intrigue but I never turned to face him again. I let him study me as I pretended to care at the same old words that got shouted my way whenever I gave in to 'sinful actions'.

There was a teeny tiny gasp near me as Rusty spotted the gaze of the new guy lasering this way and nudged Ariel with a girly whisper. She turns to him with the same arrogant intrigue, her bouncy curls flicking in my face in slow motion and her baby blues sizing him up. Her lips, painted only slightly curled up only slightly.

Rusty's long ponytail continued to wiggle about like a real horse's tail as they chuckled together at the cute boy looking their way, not in a million years thinking that he could be possibly looking at me, the one who never really existed in this town hidden by the wingspan of queen Ariel.

"I welcome his test!"

Ariel was beautiful, attractive, intelligent and charming with enough power to mould herself into whatever shape she wanted based on who she was talking to. Me, however, I didn't really talk to anyone and had only a handful of friends that wouldn't nudge my side when a guy looked at me because it never happened.

It never happens.

"I welcome this challenge from my Lord..."

She could poke and poke and poke but it was only a matter of time that he burst. He would eventually fall for her and I would just be a name in registration. Anyway, it was nice to know that I was first for a change.

I don't know if God gave me this challenge but the day that Rusty got it all wrong was the day that the world went all wrong like watching a dog walk on its hind legs.

[write-r-die]

Man’s World - Part 2

ENEMIES TO LOVERS - After a solar flare ended the world as we know it, former spy August Walker becomes the most terrifying of the many warlords who pop up across the US. He leads his militia from town to town, taking what he wants and all killing those who resist him. And now he wants Lilah. And one way or another, he’ll have her.

Masterlist

August didn’t know what possessed him to save that girl. Maybe it’s just that he didn’t like killing women. Maybe he was impressed with the unique mix of bravery and stupidity that led the vaguely ethnic twentysomething to shoot at him, only to fail spectacularly. More likely, he was just bored. Life after the flash was hard and violent but painfully predictable. 

He thought she was pretty when he carried her from the city despite the bangs, but in the sunlight, he was far less impressed with her appearance. 

To be fair, she wasn’t well. Standing in the command tent before him, she wavered on her feet. Her clothes were burnt around the edges and her feet were bare. The enormous sunglasses she wore didn’t help her appearance, either.

“The Boss just spoke to you,” one of August’s lieutenants said from somewhere behind him. “Speak,” he commanded the girl.

People who try to shoot me always end up dead. That’s what August Walker said to her. What the fuck was she supposed to say back?

“Speak?” Lilah parroted, doing her best to sound confused.

Jack looked like he wanted to smash his head into a wall.

August kept his eyes fixed on the girl as he spoke to his soldier. “What did you say was wrong with her?”

“Concussion,” Jack answered. “Doc says she’ll be right in a few days.”

August hummed. He didn’t raise his voice or take his eyes off Lilah when he commanded the others in the tent to leave with one simple word: “Out.” 

Lilah’s expression grew more and more desperate as each person filed out until finally, they were alone.

“Are you a whore?” he asked simply.

Lilah was physically taken aback by his question. “Am I . . . ?”

August’s eyes roamed up and down her body. She looked a mess now but he could tell she cleaned up well. One of his many talents was the ability to sense a woman’s figure through her clothes, however unattractive those clothes may be. And he sensed Lilah’s figure was exquisite. Her face was, too, when it wasn’t smudged with ash and blood or half-hidden by ridiculous sunglasses. 

“Are you a whore?” August repeated.

Lilah couldn’t speak for a moment, too shocked by his bluntness. “No.”

August’s blue eyes raked over her one more time, his gaze unbearably intense. He might as well be licking her. “That’s too bad.” He turned back to the maps on the table.

Lilah cleared her throat when she grew uncomfortable with the silence. “Is that all you wanted to know?”

“No.” The warlord continued to study his maps as if he wasn’t interested in her enough to even look up. Maybe that was a good thing, thought Lilah, considering how it made her feel when he looked at her.. “What did you do? Back before the flare hit.”

“Umm . . .” Funemployed? Was that an answer? “I was a camp counselor during the summers when I was in college.”

“What activity did you teach?”

She cleared her throat. “Archery.”

“Archery,” Walker repeated. “You should have used a bow and arrow instead of a gun to shoot me. Maybe then you would actually have hit something.”

She was silent for a long time. Her throat was painfully dry. “Are you going to kill me?”

“I would’ve left you behind on that sidewalk if I wanted you dead,” he said flatly.

“What do you want, then?”

He wanted to fuck her. 

After she’d bathed and changed and gotten her shit together, of course. August lifted his eyes from the table to give her that intense look again; that was answer enough.

He looked over Lilah’s head at Jack and subtly nodded towards the entryway. And just like that, Lilah was dismissed.

***

The people August Walker ordered to leave the tent start coming back inside the moment I’m dismissed. Pretty sure they were listening.

On my way out, I pass someone vaguely familiar but for the life of me I can’t remember who he is. “Hey,” I say anyway. I stop walking and so does he. 

He nods once. “Lilah.”

“Mr. Kewlani!” His name comes out in a shout not because I’m surprised to see him but because I’m happy I remember his name. 

He lived next door to me growing up. The only things I can really remember about him from childhood is that our dog pissed on all his plants and killed them and he hated us for it, and that he was condescending because of how smart he was. I’m not at all surprised that August Walker recruited him.

“Good to see you.” The fifty-eight-year-old physics professor doesn’t look pleased or surprised to see me. I can’t blame him for it, since we never talked or got along, but I feel slighted.

“You too.” I think to ask him about his wife and daughters, but they’ve been dead for years. One of the daughters was killed by a drunk driver before the flare, and his other daughter and wife succumbed to the strange plague that came immediately after. Lots of people did.

“Come on,” Jack says. He starts walking before I register his words and I have to scramble to catch up with him before he disappears into the tents.

“Where are we going?” I’m pretty sure this isn’t the way back to the tent I was in before.

He doesn’t reply. He stops in front of a big white tent - the sort people rent for outdoor events like weddings or parties - and pulls open the flap. It’s packed with army cots and outdoor recliners that have been flattened for use as a bed.

“Any open beds?” Jack calls to a woman nearby.

She pulls her toothbrush out of her mouth and uses it to gesture to the other side of the tent. “The one over there by me is free.”

“Great.” Jack turns to leave but I grab him by the arm.

“Wait, what?”

“This is your tent now,” he says, peeling my hand from his bicep.

“That’s it? No tour? What about - ?”

“Stiva,” Jack calls to the tooth-brushing woman again. “This one’s eggs are scrambled. Deal with her.”

And then he’s gone. 

Stiva finishes brushing her teeth and looks me up and down. Her long blonde hair is pulled back into a high ponytail. That, coupled with her cargo pants and tank top, make her look like the single generic woman in any action film. 

She must be smart or talented or important. August Walker only recruits useful people: doctors, engineers, plumbers and handymen, craftsmen, teachers, horse trainers and stable hands, architects, tailors, former military, and other things like that. And of course, prostitutes. I’m fairly certain Stiva isn’t a prostitute, though.

“What’s your name?” Stiva asks.

“Lilah.”

She looks me over again and seems to approve. “Stiva,” she replies. She walks me over to the other side of the tent and stows her toothbrush in a plastic box beneath her cot. “That one’s yours,” she says, nodding toward the one beside hers.

I sit awkwardly on the edge. There’s barely enough space between the cots for me to squeeze my legs in.

“You look star-struck,” she observes.

“Concussion,” I reply. “I’m pretty out of it.”

The thirty-something woman shakes her head. “No. I meant starstruck from meeting the boss.”

Now I really am confused. “What? How did - why do you know that?”

She rifles through the few personal items she has stashed under her cot. “I heard that some idiot with bangs tried to shoot the boss. I haven’t seen another grown woman with bangs in years so I assume that’s you.”

“Oh. Yeah.” I clear my throat. “Are people talking about that a lot?”

“Not really,” she says, shrugging. “I only know cause I fuck Sy sometimes and he gets chatty after.”

“Sy?”

“He’s the boss’s right-hand-man,” she explains, frowning. “Nobody explained the chain of command?”

“If they did, I don’t remember it.”

“Did anybody even teach you the camp layout?”

“No. But I’ve been unconscious mostly so they never had the chance.”

She grunts and turns back to her cot. Finally she pulls out a french press and two cracked mugs. “Coffee?”

“God, yes.”

We go to one of the cooking fires at the center of camp for hot water. One of the cooks gives us some coffee grounds to use on the condition that Stiva make her a cup, too. 

She looks me over, smirking, as we wait for the brew to steep. “You’re the boss’s new girl,” she says, half a question.

“Not yet,” Stiva says before I have the chance to reply. “If she was with him, she wouldn’t be out here slumming it with the rest of us.”

The water blackens and Stiva pours us each a mug. She thanks the cook before we turn back the way we came.

“I thought you said people weren’t talking about it,” I whisper to Stiva.

“I said they weren’t really talking about it.”

“So I’m supposed to fuck August Walker,” I say after a long silence. It’s not a surprise but I don’t like the fact that everyone in camp seems to know. Even as we walk back to our tent, I feel eyes on me. The camp seems big enough that one new person shouldn’t be so obvious.

I finally ask the question I’m most afraid to have answered, “What if I don't want to sleep with him?” I swallow hard. “Will he . . . Is he the sort of man that can take no for an answer?”

“I’ve never thought about that - what would happen if someone said no to him. No one has ever said no to him for anything except maybe Miss Ally,” she says contemplatively. It takes a beat for her to respond to my question. “I don’t think he’d force you into anything. He’s a dick but he’s also a gentleman, you know?”

I do know. “I don’t know. I’m almost positive my body is the only thing he wants from me. Not my professional expertise or know-how.” And who’s to say he won’t dispose of me if I don’t serve the one purpose I’m here for?

“I mean, can you do anything?” asks Stiva. “Anything useful?”

“I taught archery at a summer camp in Maine,” I offer.

She looks ambivalent.

“Why?” I ask, slightly embarrassed. Being an archer sounds cool, but until the flare happened, it didn't have much of a real-world application. “What can you do?”

“I’m a surveyor and a cartographer,” she says. “Used to work in real estate. Help builders figure out boundaries for new projects.”

“Oh.” 

“But people here do all sorts of shit. There’s a dog breeder who used to raise pit bulls to be guard dogs for famous people; now they’re attack dogs for the boss. And there’s a twelve-year-old girl in our tent who’s a violin prodigy.” Stiva shrugs. “They keep anybody the boss might have a use for.”

“August Walker likes the violin?” I ask.

“Not as far as I know,” she says. “But he wants to preserve society and culture and all that for after.”

I follow her back into the tent. “After what?”

“After we settle somewhere for good.” She sits heavily on her cot. “The boss wants to make a new world in his image. Supposedly he’s got it all planned out.”

“That seems a little psycho.”

She stretches out on her back. “Sy told me that he used to be a doomsday prepper or something like that. He’s been waiting for the world to end for a while.”

I’m familiar with some of those rumors. August Walker was supposedly a would-be terrorist planning to cull the world’s population. Supposedly a bunch of powerful people were part of his cell - world leaders, even. As far as I know, they never put any of their plans into motion; the solar flare did their work for them.

***

Later in the evening, when the boss called for one of his usual girls from among the thirty-nine prostitutes in the camp, he imagined he was fucking Lilah instead of her. It made him furious, which made him rough. The prostitute would have more bruises than usual tomorrow.

He repaid her for the discomfort with an unopened bottle of tequila and a pair of diamond earrings stolen from a dead woman’s jewelry box during the last raid. That, coupled with the two orgasms he gave her, seemed more than enough compensation.

She left the tent late at night - he never let his women sleep there - and August was alone with his thoughts, which soon turned back to that stupid girl.

He wouldn’t give Lilah anything when he fucked her - and sooner or later he would fuck her. His favor would be more than enough compensation. She wouldn’t sleep in his tent, obviously, but he imagined her having a little tent of her own somewhere nearby so he could call for her whenever he wanted. And no one else would be allowed to fuck her.

He had a girl like that for a few months but he grew bored with her. When she asked his permission to leave camp and strike out on her own, he gave it willingly. She had the back of her hand tattooed with August’s mark before she left. It was essentially a guarantee of safe passage. No one would fuck with somebody associated with Walker, and if his men ever came in contact with her again, they’d know not to kill or hurt her.

Now he wanted someone like that again. That and more.

Someone who belonged exclusively to him not because the other men in camp were afraid to touch what was his, but because she didn’t want anyone other than him.

The last girl was an escort with a moderately successful OnlyFans account. She was essentially a prostitute. August liked that Lilah wasn’t. 

Seducing her would give him something less mundane to do in his free time.

***

They try to integrate me into camp life over the next week. All in all it goes pretty well, but when they give me a bow and arrows to practice shooting, it becomes abundantly clear that the concussion has fucked up my long-distance vision. I can’t shoot shit. I don’t know if I’m going to be nearsighted forever or if it will clear up as I heal. Miss Ally is displeased. 

It’s obvious that she is equal in rank to Walker, but on the civilian side of camp life. I get the impression they’ve known each other for a long time. She’s the only person in camp who doesn’t refer to or address him as the boss or just Boss. Always Mr. Walker. It’s still a respectful address, complete with a polite honorific, but just the fact that she uses his name seems oddly intimate, like maybe she knew who he was before he became one of the strongest warlords on the continent.

I don’t see Walker much. Meals are served in a huge clearing and most people eat together, so Walker is obliged to make an appearance most days, always at dinner. Most of us sit on the ground or in folding chairs but not him. He sits on a pale blue armchair that I think is made of velvet. The legs are gold and the back and arms are scalloped. I think it belonged to a woman before it became his throne.

The first time I see him at dinner, he keeps an eye on me throughout the meal, even though I’m nowhere near him. We make eye contact at one point. He smirks at me and takes a deep drink of his wine. 

The second time I see him, he ignores me. Well maybe not ignores, but he doesn’t pay me any attention. I don’t know why but it annoys me. 

Near the end of the meal, he crooks his finger at one of the prostitutes. They leave the clearing together, presumably to go off somewhere and fuck, and I’m almost offended by it. Then I come to my senses.

He’s a warlord, and true warlords have concubines. A lot of them. Just because he wants me doesn’t mean he wants me, exclusively.

For all I know, he’s got a girl from every settlement he raided. Maybe he keeps them as a token of victory.

That pisses me off. Men objectifying women, just like always. It may be the apocalypse, but I’m still a fucking feminist.

Walker doesn’t make an appearance at dinner again for two days. I’m filling my plate when he joins us on the third night. I know without looking that he’s here; the sudden quiet tells me all I need to know.

Things slowly start up again as I heap chicken and instant mashed potatoes onto my plate. It’s only when one of the cooks gives me a forceful tap on the shoulder that I look up.

“What?” 

“He’s looking at you,” the woman says through her teeth. She swings her head toward August Walker. He lazes in his blue chair like a king at a feast. When we lock eyes, he smirks at me, then motions with his forefinger for me to come to him, just like he did with that prostitute the other night.

I don’t move.

“What are you doing?” the cook says. “Go!”

“If he wants to talk, he can come to me.” I’m not a hooker or a dog. I won’t just come running at his beck and call.

The cook looks at me like I’m an idiot. 

It’s a dumb issue to take a stance on, especially when it seems my survival is contingent on letting him fuck me.

I seek Stiva out in the crowd. I haven’t made it halfway over to her before that kid - Jack, I think his name is - intercepts me.

“Boss wants a word.”

They’ve set up what appears to be an old Ikea office chair next to Walker’s surrogate throne. He gestures for me to sit when I get close enough. I flop down, making the chair groan.

Walker studies me for a long moment. He looks amused but pleased, too. All I can think about as his eyes rake over me are how blue they are and how the color of his chair accentuates them. “How have you been, Delilah?”

“Is that a trick question?”

“No.”

I shrug. “I can’t complain.”

“That’s it?” he asks, bemused. 

“What else should there be?”

Walker takes a deep breath through his nose and settles back in his chair. “I know for a fact how unstable your town was. I did my research. Most of it was already in disrepair, and the crime rates before the flare were . . . high. Here, you have a roof over your head and three meals a day.”

Not really a roof, but . . .

“I had a roof over my head before.”

“What did you have to do to get it?” he asks, voice gravelly and low.

“I’m not a prostitute,” I say defensively. “I told you that.”

“I’m not necessarily saying you are.” 

“Necessarily?”

He leans back in his chair. “You’re a survivor. You did whatever it was you had to do to stay alive in that shithole.”

Now I get it. “And you think I’ll do whatever I have to do to stay alive here.”

He sips his wine in reply, his gaze never leaving mine. He doesn’t speak when he’s done, just swirls the purple wine around in his glass.

“You’re not eating,” I observe.

“I hardly ever eat the plain food,” he says. 

I remember Stiva saying that there’s a hipster chef who forages for his ingredients somewhere in the camp, and that he cooked for the highest-ranking people. He was one of those chefs that foraged for his ingredients before that was necessary. I think I followed him on Instagram back before the flare.

“You ought to join me,” Walker continues. “Something tells me you appreciate a good meal.” His voice is like liquid sex. He’s a terrifying, ruthless warlord who’s done things so horrible I can’t even imagine them, but damn if he isn’t the handsomest man I’ve ever laid eyes on. 

The pretty ones are always assholes.

I level my gaze at him. “Are you asking me on a date?”

He actually throws his head back and laughs. It’s booming; conversations pause and heads turn at the unfamiliar sound. He has the sort of laughter that would be infectious if he weren’t so scary. 

“Don’t flatter yourself,” he finally says. 

“I won’t just spread my legs for a good meal,” I say, but it honestly depends on how good the meal is. 

Walker is exasperated. “Is sex the only thing you think about?”

“I’m not an idiot.”

“No,” he agrees. “You’re rude, but you’re not an idiot.”

“You’re an asshole.” The words fall out before I can stop them. I slap my hand over my mouth like some idiot in a movie, as if that will undo what I just said. Why did I say that?

He’s going to hit me. Or shoot me. He’s going to do something to me and it won’t be good. Lilah, you stupid fucking idiot.

“No one speaks to me the way you do,” Walker says to me. “It’s refreshing, frankly.” His tone changes. “But don’t push it, especially when there are other people who can hear you. You won’t like the consequences.”

Walker downs the rest of his wine and stands. A handful of men scattered around us rise, too, and move toward him. His entourage, I guess. For a moment I think they’re each going to grab a limb and haul me away to some torture chamber or old-fashioned stockades, but they barely even glance my way.

Walker smiles wolfishly. “I’ll send someone to fetch you before dinner tomorrow. Find something nice to wear.” And off he goes.

[world-of-horrors-au]

Horrors AU - Bittersweet

Ben opens up a bit about his past. Briar doesn’t really understand, but she’ll support him no matter what.

1.2k words Teen and up rating Set within the Horrors AU, the dystopian/post-apocalyptic AU this blog is dedicated to. For more information, see the pinned post on this blog! Trans!Ben x female OC Briar the Batter [though it’s not heavy on the romance], mentioned EJ/Jeff. All mentioned characters are in their 20s Content Warnings: Discussions of 80s/90s homophobia/transphobia/LGBTphobia, and domestic violence. Implied religious abuse and dysphoria [though the latter is mostly read between the lines].

---

Her apartment was just as she left it that morning. With relief, Briar slid the heavy bag from her shoulders, and dropped it onto the wooden floor. The warm scent of the bread she’d made the day before still lingered, along with the wildflowers that graced her kitchen table. Briar kicked off her shoes and walked to the kitchen window. Wood scraped together as she opened it, letting in sunlight and the breeze of a future storm. With a groan, Briar pulled her hair free from its ponytail and massaged the back of her head. God, it was good to be home.

“Ben?” She called out.

The radio on the counter beeped.

“I’m in your bedroom,” his voice came.

Briar rolled her eyes. Oh, boy, that was fast.

“Playing a game,” he said, guessing what she was thinking. “The tv in the living room can’t connect to my Gamecube anymore.”

“Gotcha,” she said, a bit relieved. “I’m heading your way, I need to get out of my work clothes.”

“Copy that.”

Even before she opened the door, Briar heard his game, the cries of monsters and clicks of a menu pushing through the wood. Stepping into the empty room, she looked at the television perched on top of her old dresser.

“Pokemon again?”

“Yeah.” His voice came from her bed. Briar looked, and there he was where he wasn’t before, lying back with legs crossed on top of her comforter. One arm supported his blond head, the other rested in his lap. He didn’t need controllers to play games, being dead and all. “Got fifteen more of these bastards to purify.”

She shrugged. “Have fun with that.”

As she passed by him, Briar tapped his booted feet.

“No boots on the bed,” she said.

Ben made a face at her. “They’re not even real,” he said.

“Yeah, but you’ll teach Jeff bad habits.” Opening her closet door, Briar grabbed one of her thin shirts. “I already caught him trying to go to sleep with his jeans on.”

“How is that my fault?” Ben said. “I don’t even sleep.”

“You know damn well why,” Briar teased, and pulled off the top of her nurse’s uniform. She groaned in relief. “Feels great to get out of these scrubs,” She said as she pulled the pants off.

“Wouldn’t know, I don’t really take my clothes off.” Ben swore. “Damn it! You can’t kill my Espeon! He’s my baby!”

“You really get into those games.” She adjusted her bra before putting her new top on.

“Yeah, they relax me. Let me forget what reality is like for a few hours.” Ben flipped the NPC the bird as she heard him send out a new pokemon. “I always liked them, even when I had to hide them from…”

Briar looked over at him as she pulled the shorts over her legs. Ben’s face had clouded over with memories. She didn’t say anything, just let him be.

He swallowed. “From my husband.”

She adjusted the waistband of her shorts, looking at him. “I didn’t know you were married.”

“Right out of high school. Me and my high school sweetheart. Our entire graduating class came to our wedding - but that was like, 15 people, and most didn’t stay long. My friends told me I was making a mistake, but I didn’t care. I was in love. I wanted it all.”

Ben shook his head. Briar walked over and sat down next to him on the bed. In silence, she watched him go through the motions of his battle.

“Thought I did, at least. But being married to him didn’t make me happy. Having sex with him sucked. He went to college and made me stay home, then we fought about me playing video games. He smashed my GameBoy with a hammer, and told me he’d do that to my fingers if he caught me wasting his money on ‘nerd shit’ again. That was about three years in, when he started getting violent. Two years after that, he drowned me in the sink.”

“Jesus,” Briar said.

“I listened to my mother instead of my friends,” Ben said. “My friends told me to run, but she told me it was my responsibility to work things out with him, and if I divorced him, I’d go to hell with the - well, the AIDS victims. She was real big on conservative bullshit - that’s a different kind of conservative than you know, it’s kind of hard to explain -” He sighed. “She went hard on it because I knew I was trans as a kid and told her. Scared her shitless. She tried to snuff it out for my own good.”

“It didn’t work though,” Briar said.

“It did work, though.” Ben didn’t look away from the screen. “And it didn’t make me happy at all. But what does it matter, if you’re happy, so long as you’re not gay?”

Briar stared at the screen, twisted the fabric of her shirt between her fingers. She couldn’t really wrap her head around any of this.

“It was really like that?”

“It was worse than that - so much worse. But even gay people could go buy chocolate at the grocery store, you know?” The game paused. “It was getting better. That’s what pisses me off. Before the First Wave, things were getting better for us - for LGBT people - we were on a path to being accepted. And then, for fucking who knows why, we all completely lost it.” Ben shook his head and gestured with his free hand. “And now who knows what’ll happen? I don’t like humans, but thinking about them suffering because of who they are pisses me off - and you know those government bastards will try and ban ‘em all if they find out that Jeff and Eyeless were in a relationship during the War. Nothing’s off limits to those fucks.”

She looked down at the quilt below her, and frowned.

“Well,” Briar said. “I guess that means we can’t lose, then. They can’t find out if we take them down.”

Ben arched an eyebrow at her, then smiled wryly. “Look at you, our ray of hope.” His arms wrapped around her, and Briar stiffened in surprise as he placed his head on her shoulder. When did Ben ever show physical affection? Briar hugged him back.

“You know, I don’t know why you’re here, when it’s been so long since anybody was born,” he said. “But you’re good to have around. You know, for being a weak human-type.”

“Human-type?” She snorted. “What am I, a Pokemon?”

He pulled away. “You know what I mean.” Dropping back onto the bed, Ben resumed his game.

Briar shook her head, and started to stand, only for a hand to wrap around her wrist. She looked down at him. Without looking at her, he patted the spot next to him.

“You’re tired. Hang out with me a while.”

“Uh…” Briar thought about it, thinking about the dishes she needed to do, the laundry to take in from the line before the storm rolled in from the ocean… but he patted the bed again and she let herself give in. Briar laid down against him on her side, and closed her eyes. Ben wrapped an arm around her, and she allowed herself the pleasure of a nap.

[confusedhost-archive]

Maybe an au idk

“The Debeste Legacy is dead, over entirely.”

That’s what the rumours around the prosecutor’s office say. Miles Edgeworth cuts off talk about it easily, reminding that he was acquainted with ex-chief prosecutor Debeste’s son. He reminds, further, that it’s in poor taste to speak so nosily of the dead.

Klavier Gavin is less upset when it comes to the topic of such rumours. He fuels them, even, adamantly on the side of a fiery death in the office of the Debeste Manor. “It’s poetic, wouldn’t you say? That office was the heart of it all… For a line to really end, there, and only there, in that room? Not to mention how it went all up in flames - surely we all remember sir Blaise’s interest in fire. I mean, really, I can hear a song in that.”

Beside Prosecutor Gavin, the new prosecutor grins. Their hair is pulled up into a ponytail, a braid tucked in with the rest of xer hair. The new prosecutor enjoys music as much as Klavier does, and requests they write the new song together.

The new prosecutor is Prosecutor Courtney, he/they/xe/it, adopted child of Judge Justine Courtney, sibling of John Marsh, roommate to Great Thief Kay Faraday, friend of Rock Star Klavier Gavin, and apprentice to Chief Prosecutor Miles Edgeworth.

He also, apparently, knows nothing of the fire in the Debeste mansion. “I was adopted quite recently,” it explains, twiddling a pencil between their fingers. “And mothe- mom has been abiding any talk of fires lately.” On the other side of the room, Klavier Gavin will easily correct the mistake (“It’s ‘avoiding,’ Sebby) asking what coffee the great Sebby Courtney wants in the same breath.

Unbeknownst to many that now take place in Sebastian’s (it couldn’t give up the name. Sebastian was a name their father gave them, but still, it was xer own.) life, he was the supposedly dead Debeste. His hair had grown longer, and he had a streak of dull pink from a dare with Kay. His old jacket was replaced with a cloak of Justine’s, the white and pink forcing him to similarly change his other clothes for a better colour scheme. Klavier and Kay enjoyed giving them make overs, and one little drawn mole under their eye was enough to promise they weren’t Sebastian Debeste.

Not that anyone tried. Xe looked different, thanks to the magic of Klavier’s make up skills. And his family history was so nicely different, no one even assumed.

The lie all those who cared for them came up with was simple: a family who couldn’t take care of it, giving it up to adoption, until recently, Judge Courtney felt the need to grace another with motherly love. Miles Edgeworth was met in passing, during a late night round to the prosecutor’s office on Justine’s behalf. No surprise, Kay was there, and they became quick friends. Klavier was an old acquaintance, from long before superstar times. They took the same band class, so the story goes.

As for Sebastian’s - Sebastian Debeste’s, to be specific. Sebastian Courtney had no relation to such an estate - old home? It’s being renovated. The old hallways and corridors needed repairing, obviously, as despite the fire being contained in the office, smoke damage did horrors.

(“Wonders,” Justine had corrected absently, and then covered her mouth as she realized her mistake. Some time ago, Sebastian might have been hurt, that she would assume his intentions like so, but now xe laughed, and agreed. “Wonders,” he repeated.)

Miraculously, expensive items that could be sold were left in a very nice room that was entirely untouched. Sebastian would grin when their family and friends turned to stare at them at such news. “Papa taught me very little,” Sebastian had said. “But fire safety was very, very informant when his lighter came into play. And he let me go on the computer and search up anything I wanted to know about fires and fire safety. And I wanted to know everything. So I used all that knowledge.”

Miles’ eyebrows were raised high, and Kay looked far more excited then she had any right to be. John was similar, though he looked between his mother and Sebastian in calculating glances - Sebastian was going to be explaining everything xe’d learned to both of xer friends. Justine herself looked near horrified, though also proud, and Sebastian counted that as a win.

Several weeks prior, Sebastian stood in his father’s office, everything set and ready. Wet towels on the floor by the door and wood for the fire to catch on wherever they wanted it caught. Its father’s lighter in its hand, and a hammer beside xem. And a pile of horribly important papers all ready to be burned - directly in front of Sebastian Debeste.

Not that that would be his name, soon. In fact, they would be nameless, technically, legally, the moment this one thing was set on fire. Then all the other papers it didn’t want would be gone too, and the worst room in the house would be on fire, and the weapon would be shattered by a hammer and it would all burn, burn, burn, and Sebastian Debeste would be no more.

But Sebastian - Sebastian would still exist. And Sebastian would just be Sebastian until Justine finished with the paperwork, and then xe would be Sebby Courtney, legally, and the expensive but useless things that were hidden in the room that would get the least smoke would be sold, and the house would get renovated, and Sebastian would bring Justine and John here and they could live here in walls that no longer reminded him of his father, with as much space as they could ever need, and maybe it would be a good enough thank you.

Sebastian Debeste’s logic was terrible.

So it’s time to change to someone who’s logic was worthy of being Prosecutor Edgeworth’s apprentice.

The birth certificate lit on fire.

The papers underneath did too.

Blaise Debeste’s lighter was smashed into pieces.

Sebastian - just Sebastian - left the flaming room. Then the smoking house.

Justine Courtney had been filling out paperwork when her soon to be child walked into the house, in a daze. “Hello Ms. Courtney,” they said, a lazy grin on their face as they headed to the washroom.

“… Hello, Sebastian,” Justine responded hesitantly.

“Ms. Justine,” Sebastian called, as the sound of rushing water began. “Could you call the fire department?”

The panic in Justine’s voice was barely concealed, but to her credit, her voice did not pitch up. “Whatever for, Sebastian?”

The grin in his voice was obvious. “The Debeste mansion, please. I would myself, but ash is a little hard to deal with.”

Justine nearly knocked over her chair in her rush to get to the house phone.

[ficsnroses]

One Night - John Wick x Reader Oneshot

Essentially, John and reader meet for a fuck because he’s drained and its been a while since he’s smashed lol.

Word Count : 4K

Warnings : Smut, 18+ only. 

Summary : Being a devoted single father takes a toll on John Wick, which is why he craves release on a particularly lonely night.

« It tastes so sweet in the moment, an illusion that has wiped away all else. »

.

ᴍᴏʀɴɪɴɢ ᴡɪʟʟ ᴄᴏᴍᴇ; ɪᴛ ʜᴀs ᴛᴏ.

To the blare of his alarm, John barely managed his bleary eyes to wake. The air around his bedroom walls is cold, stoical. Sullen, glum morning light channels in, the weight of an empty spot beside him seems to exaggerate.

It had been a vacant, hallow spot for as long as he could remember.

Trudging, his feet hit the cold morning hardwood beneath him, dragging his aching bones to the washroom mirror. He yawns, his eyes have formed bags, he looks exhausted. The laugh lines that once kissed the corners of his eyes are no where to be found. His weary hand rakes through his hair, a glance at his clock lets him know he’d need to be swift.

Lily would wake soon.

When her mother left, all those years ago, John knew a piece of him shattered that day. Being young and in love, a cliché of old times, proved just an illusion to the actuality brimming beneath the surface.

Love wasn’t enough then. It wasn’t what she’d wanted.

She’d left before morning came, leaving John, and the memory of love; a mere deception in the distance.  But what she had left, meant more than the world itself to him.

She left Lily, their daughter. And for him, she was the semblance of hope above all, he so desperately needed.

.

“Sweetheart,” Moving her blanket off her shoulder, John lightly shakes his daughter, his voice calm, soothing. “Wake up, princess.”

She rubs her drowsy eyes, a small yawn emitting her lips as she turns to him. “Daddy, I’m sleepy.” She moans, covering her eyes with the blanket once more. John chuckles quietly, peeling it down again. “If you don’t wake up, you’ll be late.”

She groans quietly, her morning voice making John smile. For a 5 year old, she had quite the wit and intelligence. “Honey if you don’t go to school, you won’t be able to see your friends today.” John coos, gently stroking her beautiful maple hair.

She’d got it from her mum.

Sleepily, Lily sits up, immediately tucking herself into her father’s side. “Daddy, can we start school later? It’s too early and I’m always sleepy in the morning.” John giggles, catching her in a warm embrace as he holds her tiny figure, pressing a kiss to her locks. “I guess I’ll talk to them about it.” He smiles, shaking his head.

“Thanks daddy.” She yawns, on the verge of dozing off again, head tucked into John’s side.

“Alright. Let’s brush our teeth.” John says, standing, waiting for her to follow as he takes her hand.

.

7:49AM.

“Daddy, why does the sun go away?” Lily ponders out loud, muffled through a mouthful of toothpaste.

“Because it needs to sleep.” John replies, in a matter of fact tone, polishing his teeth beside her. It was a morning ritual; they always brushed their teeth together.

She furrows her brow, looking at him through the washroom mirror. “Why doesn’t it just sleep in the sky?”

Rinsing his mouth, John pats her head. “So you can go to sleep, silly.”

.

7:55AM.

With his brush equipped hand, John combs through her hair, positioning it just the way she liked, a nice, clean and crisp ponytail finished with her darling yellow bow. She absentmindedly fiddles with her stuffed bear, wondering again.

“Daddy, how big is New York?”

Securing her ponytail into place, making sure to go around exactly three times with the hair tie, John replies, staring intently at the job in front of him. “As big as the sky above it, obviously.”

She nods her head, slow, absorbing his answer. “Oh. Right. You’re smart daddy.” She acknowledges, gaze returning to her stuffed bear.

.

8:10AM.

With her favourite book propped beside her on the kitchen table, Lily swirls the cereal in her pink bowl, watching John move around the kitchen. Her legs swing inattentively, her inquisitive thoughts leaving her lips again.

“Daddy, do fishies sleep with their eyes closed?”

John packs her lunch into her backpack, watching her from the peripherals of his eye. “Hmm, I’ve never asked them. Maybe next time we go to the beach.”

Her eyes light up, glowing to the thought of a day at the beach, with her favourite rainbow coloured floaties. “Can we go right now?”

John rolls his eyes, smiling. Flipping the food in the pan, he replies once again. “Finish your breakfast, sweetheart.”

.

8:30AM.

“Alright, sweetie. Have a great day at school.” John wishes her goodbye, placing a wholesome kiss to her forehead. With his stocky fingers, he perfectly positions the straps of her tiny backpack securely on her shoulders. “I love you.”

“Love you too daddy!” She waves giggling, running off with her friends to the classroom door. John shoves his hands in his jean pockets, turning on the balls of his feet to the walk back towards his beloved Mustang.

He stays reserved, quiet, much to himself. Caught up in providing for, and taking care of Lily, John had forgot to make much of a social life of his own along the way. Much of the life John knew, the few friends he’d made, tied threads with his past.

He didn’t want Lily to be subject to that.

He’d worked far too hard to leave the world of gore; for her.

His ears catch dialogue, the woman around the school yards who’d also come to drop off their children, swooning his way.

“He’s soooo dreamy.” 

“Can you believe he’s a single dad?”

.

The rest of the day drifts by, the lonesome hours while Lily would be away usually allowed John to focus on his own hobbies. Between binding books, and working on his Mustang, John did sometimes wish he had something more.

He’d become accustomed to having Lily, and no one else.

He’d be the best father he could for her, there was no denying it. He’d be everything she needed, and more. He’d shield her from any harm, be there for her when perhaps no one else would.

But who would be there for him?

It was in reveries like this, that John felt the most alone. It was on days like today; as the sun peered down on his sweat beat forehead, the rays gleaming across the horizon he’d see so far. The city filled in the distance, lives blooming in each corner as he polished the rims of his car.

She was a beauty; she was. With her spotless gray paint, perfectly glossed onto the surface. Not a chip in site, the leather seats stitched to perfection, the smell of fresh linen gracing the interior. But she was just a car. She’d listen. But she’d never reply.

He didn’t have anyone to share his sorrows with,

and that had been the sour truth.

.

“Daddy, Chloe said she had that new princess movie I wanted to see at her house. She said we’re gonna watch it tonight.” Lilly babbles, holding onto her father’s hand as they walk back to his car after school.

“Tonight?” John questions, confused.

Chloe sighs, her tiny voice mirroring annoyance. “Daddy did you forget? Today’s our sleepover!”

“Right. Sleepover.” John mumbles, eyes focused on the ground below. Lily and her best friend had occasional sleepovers, they’d always looked forward to them. John however, preferred not to send Lily away from him over night. He liked to make sure she was safe, protected, and near at all times. But he didn’t want her to miss out on the joys of being a child. He never wanted her to fall short of anything, even if that meant once in while he’d have to let her go.

He’d prefer for the girls to stay at his house each sleepover, but sadly, that wasn’t how it works.

“First, we’re going to finish your homework though, alright?” John asserts, opening the car door for her. She nods slowly, frowning. “Okay. I got really hard math work today, addition and subtraction.” She sighs.

“Addition and subtraction?” John gives her a shocked face. “Oh boy, that’s tough stuff! We’ll figure it out though. Together.” John kisses her head, buckling the seat belt over her.

.

8:14PM.

John stands, leaning on the bathroom counter, his dreary eyes glancing down, arms and muscles tense. He sighs a breathy exhale, stiffness overtaking his body. He’d dropped off Lily after working through her homework with her. He’d made sure to pack her bag with everything she needed, hand wrote a special note for her to read before bed, wishing her a goodnight and reminding her of how much he loves her. He’d stowed in her favourite stuffed bear, she had trouble sleeping without it.

John loves his life with Lily, he wouldn’t trade it for the world.

But then why did it feel like there was something always missing? As if no matter how much he tried to convince himself, that this was okay, that he didn’t need more, his deliberations seemed to blur indefinitely. As if he wasn’t even sure he believed himself anymore.

Being a dad, a single dad is tough. It drains him, albeit he won’t let it show.

But sometime, he feels as if he needs something. Needs to feel something. Needs something to remind him, that he is only human.

But then why does he feel guilt?

Temporary relief, relaxation, substances; he’d experienced them all. A drink at the end of a hard day had always been divine, celestial, but he couldn’t depend on that anymore. He has responsibilities, a life to take care of. A mentor, an exemplar to be.

He exhales, a breath falling his lip that he hadn’t knew he’d held.

Everyone needs relief sometimes. Liberation from the hardships of everyday life. Everyone needs someone sometimes. For John, there was only one person who could be that release. It had seemed the stars aligned tonight, he was home alone, and he thought he could use some company.

He needed that company, severely. He thinks he’d go insane without. It had been too far without.

His phone sits still in his grip as he dials the number, fairly familiar, yet distant. He usually didn’t let his mind go to that place, a piece of him always felt as if he was betraying his daughter; seeking fulfillment of his own selfish needs.

The truth was, he’d forgot how to do things for himself.

He forgot how it felt to acknowledge his own needs;

  for connection.

He hears her voice on the other end, silken sweet. “Hello?”

It’s a relief to hear her voice. A reminder that she hasn’t forgotten him, hasn’t decided she wanted nothing to do with him. “Hey, Y/N. How are you?”

“I’m great! How are you? What’s up?” She inquires.

“I’m doing alright. I uh-” His voice falls flat, unsure of how to continue. They’d had this conversation before, a few times. Although it had been a while, he didn’t want to intrude. “I wanted to ask if you were doing anything tonight?”

She understood what he meant, loud and clear. They’d shared this…consensual relationship before, they’d met years ago.

She takes a moment to reply. “No, not tonight.”

.

it tastes so sweet in the moment; an illusion that has wiped away all else.

but it shows no mercy to the agony that follows right after.

They knew each other well; they’d been here before. She found herself in John’s house, positioned in his California king as he watches her, eyes prolonging over her body beneath him. Shifting slow, she sits up slight, enough to pull off her shirt. He sucks in a sharp breath at the sight of her, lace adorned over her swollen breasts, waiting for him to peel off. Pursing forward, she allows him to circle his resilient arms around her, unhooking the piece that shields her modesty from him. The sight of her bare breasts make blood rush down to his member, turned on at how perfectly plump they look.

His touch is pure liberation, but not nearly enough. She needed all of him.

“This is okay, right?” John makes sure, cautious yet in the moonlit room, the filer of the glow allowing them to be seen, but discreet. Nodding, she pulls him down where their lips meet in a fervent kiss. Her hands polish over John’s sturdy back, feeling his bare skin and tensed muscles. She hoped she could help him tonight, she knew well that even he, deserved it.

Leaving open mouthed kisses to the corners of her lips, he moves slow, deliberate and unhurried down, lips grazing over her neck, her collarbone, his hands knead her breasts, feeling her shiver under his touch as they harden. Her fingers tangle his dark mane, gently tugging at the strands with her eyes flush shut. John had always been a giver; despite their arrangement tonight being a sole easement for him. John knows how to satisfy a lady; his experience disallows him to forget to prove it.

His lips move, beard scuffing over her stomach as he trails lower, his stock fingers undressing her bottom half, leaving her completely nude for him to take in. She can smell him, his scent so uniquely him, she’d be lying if she said she hadn’t craved it every now and then. Shuddering, her body jolts feeling his large palms explore each inch of her, taking in the canvas in front of him. His tongue leaves wet marks, the sounds already so sultry. Using his fingers to spread her folds, he presses a quick kiss to her clit, allowing two fingers to trudge into her cunt. Stifling moans escape her lips, helping him erect.

“John,” She whimpers, “Please don’t tease me today,” He watches her suck in a sharp breath, her soft moan making each nerve in his body snap at the thought of feeling her soon. “It’s been so, so long…”

Her hands work his pants, freeing his cock as she pulls him out. She rubs the tip against her clit, and they moan in unison. John’s eyes have rolled to the back of his head, feeling her soft, delicate hands on his member. If her hands felt this delicious, her pussy would do wonders. Moving up, she secures her hands on his bare shoulders, urging him to lay down beside her.

“Relax, baby…” She whispers, straddling him with her hands smoothing over his chest. In this moment, she remembers just how dreamy John really is; the way his beard lines perfectly trimmed, his espresso eyes glow in the moonlight, the way his mouth stays slightly a gape watching her, his breathing in and out slow, steady, writhing under her. John is a piece of art, although he doesn’t like to acknowledge it.

His large hand is already on his cock, lazily stroking as he watches her move down, tucking her hair behind her ear. With her hands on his thighs, she finally takes his tip into her warm, wet, heated mouth, sucking gently. John softly moans, his hand coming down to tangle in her hair. Using both his hands to keep her hair out of her face, he lets himself get a good view of her throatily bobbing her head on his throbbing cock. 

She remembers how he likes it; sloppy and wet. He elicits a deep moan, feeling her hands massage his balls. 

Swirling her mouth over his veins, she hallows her cheeks, making it tight as could be for him, her warm, soaking tongue gliding across his cock, her jaw loosening to take more and more. The sounds her sinful lips are making, the suction, the slurps,  could make any man fall weak. Every now and then, she lets out a hum, the vibrations against his cock shoved deep inside her mouth, making him feel so unholy

Making John feel good was almost addicting; watching the way his small breath let out praiseful moans, his tone husky as his lips part, shuddering under her.

He reaches down to rub her slit, spreading her wetness as he prepares her folds for the taking. The anticipation is building; John can barely remember how it feels to be buried deep inside someone. With the stressors and responsibilities caving him down, he’d forgotten to let himself feel anything in a while.

John needed this. He needed release. Quite literally, he needed to cum and he needed it soon. In this moment, she was all he had.

All that could liberate him.

Reaching over to the bedside table, John moves his hand to the very back, buried deep, deep inside where they couldn’t be found by anyone. A box of condoms, long forgotten. He gives himself a few tugs, preparing to take her. Fishing out and opening the sliver lining, he allows it to slip onto his aching cock, pulsating for any relief to come its way. She watches him, biting her lip. 

She’d almost forgotten how big John was, how he’d leave her sore and tender after a steamy session.

With his cock firm in her palm, she moves on him, lining her entrance. Slow, sensual, she sinks down on him, they both sigh in relief, John lets out a groan of pleasure, eyes shut tight with the feel of her heavenly walls tightening around him. She’s warm, wet and tight, blissfully gratifying.

Moving slow at first, she allows them to savour each inch of each other, John’s hands planting on her hips, guiding. He’s practically panting under her, deep voice smooth as butter as he moans her name, letting her know how grateful he is for her in this moment. 

“Fuck, please keep going,” he whispers needily, eyes watching her glide on his cock, hands pressed to his chest. Grabbing his hands, she guides them to her breasts, urging him to cup them hard as she bounces herself up and down on him. Tensing his jaw, his lips part, watching her meet him halfway with her bounces on his cock as he thrusts up into her, his hands holding her ass.

His eyes roll shut and he bites his lip, the sounds of her wetness slicking him fill the room, each time he sinks in and out. His cock glistens with her slickness, she brings her hand over her mouth to cage a loud moan threatening to surface. Whimpering, she bites her arm in complete ecstasy, the feel of John throbbing, completely filling her whole becoming much.

“You okay, darling?” John inquires, satiny voice quiet and deep as his fingers kiss her cheek. She merely nods, eyes clasped shut, soft moans escaping. “Yeah..” She sobs, holding in her yelps.“You just feel so good.”

Moving slow, John shifts her under him in a swift motion, not wanting her to do all the work. Her legs wrap around his waist as they both glance down. At first, he merely glides his cock over her folds, teasing her clit. Slow, watching him slip himself back between her legs, her nails dig into his back, cock stretching her almost painfully. Rocking his hips slow, they focus on just feeling each other whole, the feeling of having someone to spend the night with, the feeling of nothing but all things good.  She clenches around him, sighing in sweet, sweet relief, legs trembling from how well he was already pounding her, seconds in.

“Harder, John.” She winces, feeling his cock hit her end. He’s grunting, exiting her fully each time before slamming back in, hearing her whimpers and yelps so loud at the sensation. His thrusts pick up, erratic and imperative, lips moving along her chest as they leave small marks. Into her neck, he presses a few sloppy kisses to the satin skin, sucking and nipping.

“Does that feel good?” He whispers, holding onto her waist tight, the pads of his fingers threatening to leave bruises.

“So good.” She whimpers, feeling every nerve in her body close to snapping, legs shaking. John sees her grit her teeth, small, breathy moans releasing as she pants. Her breasts move up and down on her chest to his pace, the sounds of his skin slapping hers delectable in the quiet midnight. Wrapping her hands around his shoulders, she pulls him closer to feel his skin against hers. Crashing his lips to hers, John begs for entrance, tasting her. His deep voice, paired with the feel of his girthy cock, each vein, each curve slamming against her; his pumps become urgent, cock throbbing, twitching between her.

Jerking his hips faster, cock grinding her g spot each time, his breath is hot on her lips as he pulls away, their foreheads connect as he continues pumping into her now, his thrusts ridged and rough. For a moment, they stare intently into each others eyes, focusing on the feel of each other, and everything in that moment, the way they fit together so fucking good. Trembling and whimpering, she knows she’s close. His cock moves swift in and out, pounding spots inside her that nearly make her lose her breath. Deeper, harder, the pressure builds in her core, she’s already sore from the pace he’s executing and his massive size.

The bed creeks, hitting the walls although neither of them perceive to care. John grunts, with her hands holding his biceps firm, beads of sweat gleaming his forehead. Sultry and deep, his voice soothes. 

“You feel so good tonight...so tight...” He bites his lip. “So wet.” Closing his eyes again, he sighs as her fingers tangle his dark mane, his face nuzzling her neck, hips still thrashing in and out of her. “So fucking wet.”

“The way you’ve always liked it.” She whimpers, gasping as he hits her perfect nerves each time. “I’m so close John, please don’t stop. Please.” She begs, wailing, squirming under him. His skin slaps hers, hastily, senselessly. He’s pushing as much as himself possible into her, and she can’t help but scream, bringing her arms tighter around him.

John twitches inside her, his throbbing cock jammed deep inside her clenched cunt, the pleasure is becoming too much, he knows he won’t last long. She drips down her thighs each time he pulls out, only to slam back in. 

“Let go for me, Y/N.” John encourages her, his hands coming back to cup her breasts as she lets out an ear-splitting moan into his neck. With a particularly deep, harsh thrust, she comes all over his cock, sending piercing shocks through her mind. Thoughts hazing, the only feeling she feels is the oblivion he’s spilled into her as he grunts, moaning loud with his creamy load spilling deep, deep inside her.

He moans her name, coming down from their highs with his head buried in between her nude breasts. Their skin is flushed, clinging together as they pant, trying to catch their breath. She wraps her arms around him tighter, her hands soothingly stroking his hair, his cock still buried inside her. 

Slow, John moves his head up to look at her, resting his weight on his hands as he disconnects himself from her. “Are you alright, Y/N?” He asks, making sure she was okay. She nods, never breaking eye contact.

It felt good in the moment,

But now, he can’t help but feel guilt. Guilt that he’s used her, guilt that this isn’t what he’s supposed to be doing.

He has responsibilities, things to take care of, and here he was, in the middle of the night, fucking a woman he had immense respect for. Someone he once called a close friend.

Cautiously, he pulls out of her, his cock falling flaccid, coated with her creamy releases. Reaching beside the bed, he wipes himself clean with a few tissues, offering one to her as well. Exhausted, he falls beside her on his bed, both facing the ceiling as she brings the duvet up to cover her breasts. There’s a silence between them, as they collect their thoughts.

They know both their minds are racing a mile a minute; although neither of them dare say a word. She knows John feels guilty, she knows he has a heart of gold.

She’d come to learn that over the years.

Quiet, she speaks into the silent of the room. Her hand moves slow, resting on his forearm as his eyes stay focuses on the roof, chest still rising and falling. “John?” She murmurs, voice soft. He turns his gaze to her, nodding gently.

“I wanted this. And you deserved it.” She comforts. “This, was okay.”

His eyes gloss, expression wounded. Perhaps it had been the way his life had played out that caused him to always feel guilt. Guilt in everything. She knew that; she knew him well.

“John,” She starts, rubbing his arm. “I know people have not been kind to you. You’re doing everything you can, and I admire that.” Biting her lip, she makes a daring move, holding his hand now. “I’m here to listen if you need me.”

He nods, inhaling deep, grateful for her kind words. But perhaps, he’d forgotten how to feel. Perhaps he’d forgotten how to be human. Perhaps he’d been royally fucked. Too far gone for saving.

           but morning will come; it has to.

➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴

If you guys like this, I could potentially revisit them in the future!

Taglist Posted Seperatly (Ask to be added or removed!)

[deadlyflan]

Figuring out the OCs from an as-yet-unpublished TMNT fanfic. Come meet my AU.

October 3 - Duel - 1,455 words. All 4 Turtles & April. Peggy & Julie. Rated G. “Miss April? What are these?” Peggy held up a small, open-top wooden box. It had a handle mounted down the middle of it as if it were a tool box, but one end opened like a scoop. A couple dozen wire tines stuck out from the scoop like a comb. A few more of the widgets sat on the ground at her feet.

April paused on the basement steps and peeked over the boxes she was carrying. Her face brightened with recognition. “Our old berry rakes!” She tossed her head to get her hair out of her eyes. “Lemme put this stuff down, I’ll be right back.”

Julie picked one up and twanged the tines. She turned it in her hands and gripped the handle experimentally.

The sound brought Michelangelo away from shifting the heap of musty National Geographic magazines into boxes. “Whatcha find?” He swiped the last one off the floor.

“Berry? Rakes?” Peggy offered uncertainly. She spun it in her hands.

April paced down the stairwell. “Yeah! My grandfather made them.” She pulled up her hair into a higher ponytail as she explained. “They’re for harvesting blueberries. You scoop at the branches with the rake and ripe berries pop off into the box.”

Michelangelo smiled broadly at Peggy and Julie. “Oh these’ll be fun next year!”

April laughed. “It’s late in the season, Mikey, but there’s probably still berries left down by the pond.”

And that’s how The Great Basement Clean-Out got postponed. The weather had wiggled some of the last warm days of the season into early October and everyone was in high spirits. Nine turtles and a happily nostalgic human gathered at the western side of the pond. Big plastic buckets sat arrayed around a feral tangle of blueberry bushes. The turtles shucked their shirts to take advantage of the afternoon sun.

Michelangelo gawked at the boughs that bent over his head. “I didn’t know these were edible! All those trips to the pond this summer and you were all ‘Mikey, Don’t Eat Stuff Off The Ground! Mikey, Don’t Pick Random Berries! Mikey, You Don’t Know What That Is!’”

“You didn’t know and I stand by my advice.” Donatello plucked a deep blue berry with a light gray coating off a branch. It practically sprang from its stem.

“That’s how you know they’re ripe, when they fall off like that." April handed Donatello a bucket. He popped the blueberry into his mouth rather than into the pail. The skin burst and sweet juice made his mouth water. He plucked another handful for munching. The bucket hung over his arm, empty.

Julie and Peggy dropped their shirts with their sisters’ on a sunny rock and stretched up tall to drink in the warmth. Long, dark green arms and deep golden yellow stripes drew more than one pair of male eyes. Vibrant yellow flat plastrons, each with a pair of black ‘brush stroke’ marks at the collar bone, made it hard to look away.

The two girls must have hatched from the same egg. All the photos of them as kids in their files showed identical gray-eyed girls. When Dr. Weston sabotaged their care, Peggy and Julie were separated into different facilities. The disparities in their living situations showed on their bodies now that they were adults.

Peggy’s diet and living conditions encouraged her growth. She stood taller than her twin by at least 4 inches and taller than Donatello by significantly more. Her shell and bones received the right foods and vitamins. She had little muscle mass, but she was broad in the shoulders and hips. If she continued with Master Splinter’s exercises, she had the frame to be a very strong turtle indeed. The sunlight reflected off the pond and cast a halo around her.

Julie, at her worst health, had been painful to compare to her twin: dull scales, thin build, brittle shell, and depressed mood. Her genes gave her most of her sister’s height, but her laboratory had not been kind to her. Now, after a summer of swimming and sunbathing, along with all the foods her new family shoveled onto her plate, Julie’s shell was healing, her color deepening, and her energy rising until she could keep up with Peggy. She smiled, giddy with the prospect of berry-picking, and all four sisters around her. Julie’s more delicate features practically glowed.

“So what do you think of that?” April banged two of the berry rakes together and startled Raphael. “Girls against boys?”

“Huh? Oh. Sure.” Raphael agreed to whatever it was just to save face. He hadn’t been staring.

April smirked at him. She knew.

Leonardo elbowed him and Mike mimicked his ‘Huh?’ a few times from over his shoulder. Raph spun and smacked at each of them.

“Oh like you two weren’t—“

“ON YOUR MARKS…” April and the twins each had berry rakes and buckets right up in the tallest branches of some of the bushes.

“GET SET….” Dinah, Nina, and Helen each had a bucket and were squatting down with hands out at the lower limbs of the berry shrubs.

“GO!” Leo, Mike, and Raph dashed for their buckets and ended up elbow deep in branches seconds after the girls started picking.

“Donnie, what— we’re picking. What’s the rules, bro?” Michelangelo tried shaking a branch over his bucket. It sort of worked. Berries ended up on the ground.

“Yeah. How do we win?” Raphael gripped the branch and ran his hand down it hard. Ripe berries smashed or popped off into the undergrowth. A few unripe berries pattered into his bucket.

“Not like that Raph. Like this.” Leo wiggled his fingers over a berry cluster and the ripe ones pelted into his bucket. If he knew ‘how to win,’ he would have said.

Raph wiped his sticky hand on Leo’s shell.

“Oh for—seriously?!”

“Nice of you three to join me.” Donatello’s voice teased even as his bucket filled. “We have 30 minutes to see which team can pick the most berries.”

“What, that’s all?” Michelangelo had figured out a way to wiggle two boughs against each other and make the berries rain down.

Leonardo focused on quick grips and the sound of berries hitting his bucket steadily increased. “Look at the girls, Mike. Half an hour looks about right.”

Peggy, Julie, and April reached up tall to rake the tops of the bushes and dumped double handfuls of berries into their pails. Dinah sat on the ground and moved her bucket under the limbs as Nina jimmied the berries loose. Helen managed both bucket and branch. All of them were smiling, but they were breathing hard already.

Julie’s bucket arm began to sag—a victim of her own effectiveness.

April called cheerfully, “Pour your bucket into Dinah’s Julie. Lighten your load. It all counts.”

Michelangelo considered his measly yield. Under his breath, he muttered, “This is not the winning strategy.” He backed out of the bush.

“Where are you—“ Raphael puffed air in exasperation.

“Lemme help you, there, Julie.” Michelangelo easily lifted her bucket and poured a cascade of berries into Dinah’s bucket. He poured the last few inches of Julie’s berries into his own bucket. “Service fee.”

“Oh! Isn’t that cheating?!” Peggy dumped her berry rake and berries into her own bucket and left them to appeal to April. “Can he do that?”

Julie stared at Michelangelo in horribly disappointed shock.

Mike felt himself deflating. He was seconds from apologizing and giving her all his berries when he caught movement out of the corner of his eye.

Raphael saw an opportunity and took it. Peggy’s bucket and berry rake were unguarded. He snagged them both, poured her harvest into his pail, and went to town with the berry rake. Raph needed to add as many berries as possible before somebody made him give the rake back.

“No. He can’t— RAPH!” Leonardo had hands on his hips, appalled that his brothers would cheat against the girls. “We’re ninjas. We don’t need a berry rake to—“

April just laughed long and loud. “Sorry girls! I didn’t say they couldn’t. Keep an eye on your buckets and do your best!”

Julie lunged at Dinah’s bucket, grabbed a bunch of berries and threw them at Michelangelo. Her stripes bunched like thunderheads across her forehead.

“Whoops! She’s mad!” Michelangelo danced back and forth egging Julie on to throw more berries at him. She obliged.

“Hey! Don’t throw our berries at him!” Dinah protested.

“Throw his berries at him!” Helen laughed.

That sounded great, and Julie chased after Michelangelo, determined to dump his own bucket of berries over his head.

“Wait! You still have the berry rake!” Peggy raced after her sister.

None of those three picked any more berries that day.

~~~end scene~~~

@oc-growth-and-development

More about this AU tagged #tmnt chain reaction

[artificialqueens]

Fool for You (Crygi) - Frankenvenus

After realising she has fallen for her straight best friend, Crystal’s therapist recommends she write her crush love letters. So instead of communicating her feelings, she scribbles then down and slips them into Gigi Goode’s locker.

A/N~ I hope you like this cause it took forever. I finished it super late at night and I did read through it twice but I apologise for any errors.

Crystal stormed her way into her therapist’s office, throwing herself onto the pink sofa that she sat and rambled on for an hour and a half every week. Her therapist looked at her bemused as the blue-haired girl uttered the words, “I’m in love with my best friend.”

Her therapist, Widow, huffed out a sigh, placing her clipboard down on the coffee table in front and pushing her glasses slightly down her nose, “Well. That’s a common issue for young queer folks like yourself.”

Crystal groaned and rolled over, displaying her puffy eyes and messed up bangs, “But I thought I was immune to it.”

Widow chuckled slightly and leaned towards where Crystal lay, brushing her hair from where it stuck itself in her lip gloss, “Do you need to rant to me about it? You know that’s why I’m here, sweetie; to listen.”

The young girl groaned again before sitting up, straightening her back and recounting the events of her day.

It had started off a normal Thursday. On Thursdays, she would usually peddle to her best friend Gigi’s house before school began so they could scribble down fake absence notes for phys ed, then Gigi would hop on the back of Crystal’s bike and they’d cycle the last half mile to their high school. It was routine for them. Never weird, never crossing any lines. It had always been the two of them, best friends, since middle school. So when things shifted, it took Crystal by surprise.

“I wanna do something different today instead of just sitting in the library until Phys Ed ends. I’m sick of the librarian shutting us up. We literally aren’t even loud,” - Gigi had said, fixing her dirty blonde ponytail in the school bathroom mirror after the bike ride messed it up.

Crystal had agreed with her, before asking her if she wanted to try something new. Although Gigi was her best friend, she hung out with the stoners whilst Gigi hung out with the high-fashion Instagram girls. The dirty blonde had never tried weed, and Crystal never offered - but today she did, and Gigi was eager.

The two of them snuck to the abandoned bike shed at the back of the school, covered in ivy with smashed windows. It was a spot that only Crystal and her friends Daya, Daegen, Lux and Tiff knew, so Gigi was curious to see it.

“This is so cool,” Gigi had gaped, finding a spot in the corner while her friend rolled her a joint. Crystal had to assure her multiple times that they wouldn’t get caught, but Gigi didn’t shut up until the sizzling rice paper was placed in her mouth. The older girl talked her through how to inhale it properly, and soon enough Gigi was coughing the smoke into the air.

“Can you feel it in your chest?” Crystal had asked, and when Gigi nodded, she said, “Good. That’s how you know it worked.”

They sat there, minds foggy, trying to hold conversation despite their thought process and immediate short term memory being cut off every few seconds. At some point, their pinkies intertwined, followed by the rest of their fingers. And then, Gigi was nestling her forehead into the crook of Crystal’s neck. That’s when it all tumbled down on the latter.

The contrasting feeling of the coldness from Gigi’s skin against her own warm, buzzing skin sent jolts of emotion through her, and the gentle brush of Gigi’s wavy locks against her jaw caused her heart to squeeze itself in a way that was unfamiliar to her. It didn’t seem too serious to Crystal whilst she was still in her high, but when the effects of the weed began to fade by fifth period, the sudden feeling of need for her best friend’s touch remained in place.

Her mind kept travelling elsewhere during fifth and sixth period, which happened to be double Spanish. Jaida had to pinch her multiple times, bringing her back down to Earth. Jaida didn’t question Crystal’s behaviour too much though, because the latter wasn’t usually focused in Spanish class anyway, and that’s why she was failing.

Gigi had debate team practice after school on Thursdays, so instead of going home together the same way they would travel to school, Crystal biked alone. She had her earplugs in, blasting Clairo like usual and wondering what the hell it was that she felt today. It wasn’t until ‘Sofia’ by Clairo came on did everything click in her mind. Something about the lyrics ‘Standing here alone now, think that we can drive around, I just wanna say how I love you with your hair down’ made her realise that oh, she wanted to be able to call Gigi her own, and not just platonically. Then she almost crashed her bike.

She swerved into a fire hydrant, gratified that her bike sported thick mountain bike wheels to soften the hit. Luckily, she didn’t fall off - she just got a fright. She decided to walk her bike the rest of the way home, which thankfully wasn’t far.

When she reached home, she spread herself across her bed and allowed herself to make connections that she should’ve made before. Why else could she never take her eyes off Gigi’s plump lips? Why else did people at school assume they were a couple because they were so touchy all the time? Why else did she feel such tremendous jealousy whenever Gigi showed even the tiniest bit of romantic fondness towards someone that wasn’t her.

Her mom knocked on her door, reminding her that she had her therapy appointment in an hour, and that led back to the present.

“That seems like quite the epiphany,” Widow smiled warmly, passing Crystal a tissue box when tears began to spill over, “Normally falling for a long-term best friend is something that you realise over time, but not for you apparently.”

“I think maybe I’m just an oblivious fuck,” Crystal sniffled. “But even if I realised it today, years ago, or tens of years from now, she still wouldn’t like me back.”

“Well, I’m not your friend’s therapist, but we can’t be so quick to assume.”

“Once you see the girl, you’ll know. She’s a hardcore ten. I’m a five, at best.”

“Crystal, remember what we went over…” Widow began, and the blue-haired girl finished the sentence.

“…Instead of self-deprecation, tell yourself you’re the best person ever, no matter whether you believe it or not - yeah, I get it,” Crystal rolled her eyes, “It’s just hard when you know it’s not true.”

“Well, I have a little tip I give my clients when they’re in a similar situation to you. The whole unrequited love thing,” the older woman got up from her seat and walked towards a cabinet, pulling out a packet of fresh, plain envelopes, “I usually tell them to write their crush love notes. It’s up to them whether they send them or not, or whether it’s anonymous or not, but they can be very therapeutic when needing to express bottled up emotion. Do you see where I’m coming from?”

Crystal raised a brow and tilted her head to the side slightly, the hint of a smile on her lips. She actually didn’t mind the idea.

“That’s actually super cute,” she giggled, taking the stack of envelopes from her therapist, “Thank you.”

.

As soon as Crystal got home, she sprinted to her room and grabbed an old notebook from the back of her stationery drawer. It was a plain A5 paper notebook, but spread across each page was a ginormous red opaque One Direction logo. Crystal had got it for Christmas about a decade ago, but it had only been used a handful of times for random sketches and one draft of a Louis Tomlinson and Harry Styles fanfiction.

She grabbed an ink fine-liner from her art pot which she would normally use for her pointillism artwork and began the first letter.

You don’t know who I am. Well, you do but like, not who is writing this. I hope you aren’t scared or anything - cause that’s the last thing I wanna do. I promise I’m not a freak. Well, I sorta look like one but, I know you aren’t one to be bothered by that kind of thing. It’s beautiful, you know. The way people look at you and assume you’ll hate them for who they are cause you’re so pretty and popular, but then you’re just as wonderful on the outside as you are within. That look on your face when you meet a new person drives me nuts. The way you look like you’ve swallowed the sun. Radiant. Always.

Sometimes I wish I could just tell you how I feel about you to your face, but I think you might faint out of disgust. You do that a lot. I sound like a stalker, but I promise I’m not. I think I’m just smitten.

She finished the letter, reading it over to make sure her handwriting looked unrecognisable. Although Gigi wasn’t the most observant person, she and Crystal were so familiar with each other that she was bound to notice her unique handwriting. She also made sure to spray it with an old perfume that she never wore, so Gigi wouldn’t connect their scents. Gigi always made comments about how she loved Crystal’s perfume, so the blue-haired girl had to take precautions. Her strong scent of cocoa and vanilla was bound to rub off on the paper, so she sprayed it with a men’s cologne that she had likely shoplifted years prior, spraying it onto the paper from a distance.

Although Widow had given her the option not to post the letters, Crystal felt like the weight of her crush wouldn’t be eased unless she actually posted it. So, she placed it into the envelope and slipped it into Gigi’s locker the next day at school when the blonde wasn’t around, her heart pounding in her ears with anticipation and verve.

She sat through her first class of the day, social studies with Daya, desperately trying to take her mind off the painful wait. Daya ranted to her about dinosaurs and how everyone’s perception of how they looked was wrong, but Crystal hardly paid attention. She would nod every so often, just so Daya wasn’t insulted, but she wasn’t really in the conversation.

After social studies, she shared a free period with Gigi. She made her way to their meeting spot in the library after the bell dismissed them from their first period, and sooner than she would’ve liked, Gigi was marching across the library towards her with the smuggest grin on her face.

“Oh my God Crystal Elizabeth you will never guess what I just found in my locker,” she squealed as quietly as possible, sliding into the seat opposite Crystal’s.

“What?” Crystal raised a brow, her mouth full of skittles. Now here was the hardest part - pretending to be shocked.

Gigi reached into her blazer pocket and pushed the familiar envelope towards the older girl, who plastered a confused look on her face. The dirty blonde gestured for her to open it, so she complied. She pulled out the letter that was already likely covered in her own fingerprints and unfolded it with a faux-expression of excitement.

“What the fuck is this?” she chuckled, trying to suppress the shake in her fingers as she held the letter.

“A letter. From a secret admirer,” Gigi beamed, placing her beautiful shaped chin into her palm and flashing her angelic white teeth. Wow, Crystal was more whipped than she thought.

“This is so dumb,” she lied blatantly, and to her surprise, Gigi frowned.

“You think so? I think it’s so sweet. And shit… whoever wrote it has a way with words,” she exhaled, tugging her plump, peachy lower lip between her teeth.

Crystal’s breathing hitched and she felt her skin redden. She assumed Gigi would find it painfully corny, but it seemed like she felt the opposite. The blonde promptly took the letter back from Crystal’s grasp, taking a look at it once more. The older girl wished she was imagining the blush that began to cover Gigi’s face, but it was definitely there.

“I hope they write again. I wanna play Nancy Drew,” Gigi smiled sheepishly, taking Crystal’s hand suddenly, “Will you help me, you know, try and crack the code?”

“Sure!”

Fuck. Crystal felt like Hannah Montana.

.

They spent Saturday together, drinking on Crystal’s roof and gossiping about their own respective friend groups, however, the conversation kept moving back towards the letter. Gigi was conflicted on whether or not she knew the person, but her repetitive use of he and him pronouns when she referred to the secret admirer caused Crystal’s blood to simmer.

When Gigi left the next morning after spending the night on Crystal’s couch, the blue-haired girl was quick to begin her second letter.

I hope these letters haven’t made you uncomfortable in any way. The look on your face when you read it tells me they haven’t though. What I want to tell you though, is that I’m not what you think. I hate to disappoint you, but I’m not a boy. I’m a girl. I don’t know if you like girls. If not; I’m sorry, but if you do; so do I. I like you a lot. All I want is to make you smile.

She spent Sunday at the skatepark, smoking with Daya, Daegen, Lux and Tiff, before slipping the note into Gigi’s locker first thing on Monday morning. The two of them, as well as Gigi’s friends Nicky and Jaida, all shared music class first period of Mondays. Whilst Crystal was pulling her viola out of its case, Gigi suddenly began dangling the envelope in front of her nose.

“Another one!” Gigi grinned, her voice cracking with adorable excitement. She took a seat beside Crystal and opened it. “I haven’t read it yet.”

Crystal watched her friend’s face with anticipation whilst she read the letter aloud, quiet enough that surrounding people wouldn’t hear. Gigi’s eyes widened as she read it over, and her grin faltered into an unreadable expression.

“What does it say?” Crystal questioned nervously.

“The person who wrote it isn’t a guy,” Gigi sighed, scratching the top of her head, “It’s a girl.”

The tanned girl pursed her lips, not knowing what to say next.

“Wow, uh. So… what do you think about that then?” she queried stupidly.

“About what?”

“You know… a girl liking you…”

The blonde crossed her legs and looked away from Crystal, “A pair of tits isn’t gonna stop me from loving this girls way of words. The anonymity is sexy. I should’ve known a man wouldn’t have the mental capacity to do something so romantic.”

This could not be real. Crystal felt like she was lucid dreaming.

“So you like… girls?” she pressed.

Gigi turned to her with a glint in her eye, “No gender or sex will stop me from wanting to kiss someone pretty.”

Oh.

“What? Are you homophobic or something?” Gigi added, and Crystal simply laughed.

”As if! Have you seen me? I think I should get ‘flaming lesbo’ tattooed on my cheek. I just didn’t know about you…” Crystal rushed out before she could even think about it. Never did she think she would come out in that way. In her mind, for most of her life, she had anticipated coming out in a very deep, emotional way - likely crying on Gigi’s bed. This was nothing of the sort.

“You’re a lesbian? Wow. I should’ve known,” the blonde simpered, and Crystal shoved her shoulder playfully.

.

When my therapist recommended I write these, I thought it would help me get over you, but fuck I think I’m falling harder for you. That floral outfit you wore yesterday was so cute. When you walked into class, it lit the whole room up. You truly are God’s favourite, huh? Just kidding I don’t believe in God, but whoever sculpted you took their time.

“Crystal look at this one! This is the most poetic piece of artwork I have ever read,” Gigi gaped, rushing towards Crystal after the latter had waited outside her human biology class for her.

The older girl took the letter and read through it, biting hard on her lower lip whilst Gigi watched with a smile, “It’s cute,” she said.

“It isn’t just cute! It’s… beguiling!”

“Do you even know what that means?”

The blonde groaned as they began to walk through the hallways together.

“I think you’re jealous because no one is writing you captivatingly beautiful love letters.”

Crystal shrugged and continued walking, eventually bumping into Daegen and going for a much-needed smoke. The blue-haired girl didn’t want to come off as cold to her best friend, but she feared that if she said too much, Gigi would make the connection. She smoked in silence, allowing Daegen to rant about her weekly argument with Daya that would likely be resolved by Friday. Occasionally she would nod, but she kept quiet.

It was surprising to Crystal that Gigi appreciated the letters so much. She thought the blonde would find them creepy and stalker-like, and perhaps fear for her own safety, but the opposite reaction was apparent. So now Crystal didn’t know what to do. Gigi was falling for her words, but she didn’t know it was her.

Apparently Daegen had been saying something because suddenly the girl was snapping her pink acrylic covered fingers in front of her eyes.

“Are you listening to me, Crys? I asked what you were planning on doing for Halloween this Friday?”

Oh. Crystal had almost forgotten that she had been working on her Corpse-bride inspired Halloween costume since July, putting her entire soul into the concept and causing her fingers to bleed with the many late nights of sewing layers of tulle. Everything with Gigi must have been really getting in her head - so much so that she forgot about the object of her whole summer.

She was too old for trick or treating now, unfortunately, but she had been planning to have a small get-together (edging on a party) with her remote friend group as well as others. Gigi had promised to attend, after spending the last two Halloweens with the popular kids getting shitfaced at college parties.

“Don’t you remember? I’m throwing a party. My dad is out of town for work and my mom is spending time with our grandma. The house will be empty,” Crystal grinned, puffing a cloud of smoke into the air.

“Crystal Lucia Elizabeth throwing a party? Who would’ve thought,” Daegen smirked, “Is Geege coming?”

“Yup,” Crystal said, her smile faltering slightly as she popped the ‘p.’ Daegen didn’t press on, so soon they were both putting their cigarettes out and heading to their next class.

Word of Crystal’s Halloween party spread like a virus, and the prominent conversation around the school was what everyone was wearing. Thankfully for Crystal, most of her friends were art kids, so instead of wearing a slutty (insert random occupation) costume, they’d all be wearing actual thought-out looks.

At lunchtime, Crystal and Gigi sat under the bleachers together, sipping Yakults and talking about their days. The blue-haired girl asked Gigi what she’d be wearing to her Halloween party, but the blonde wouldn’t tell her.

“It’s a surprise.” her eyes were glinting smugly. Gigi was a seamstress, and everyone knew it. She would create intricately designed, beautiful outfits and sell them to big names on Instagram. Crystal often wondered why she hadn’t just dropped out of school, considering it seemed like she had a strong career set in stone.

But oh boy, Crystal knew whatever it was that Gigi was planning to wear would sweep her off her feet. Figuratively and literally - she was quite clumsy.

.

I can’t wait to see you at the Halloween party tomorrow. I know you’re going to look ethereal. You always do. It’s so hard to look at you without kissing you. I don’t know why I would ever think you would kiss me considering I’m not even half as pretty as you, but I will continue to manifest it as long as you’re in my life. I think I love you.

“She said she loved me in yesterday’s letter,” Gigi shouted through the wind, holding onto Crystal’s waist tight as the latter peddled through the neighbourhood.

“Do you love her?” Crystal replied, thankful that her friend was unable to see her expression at that moment. She couldn’t think straight with Gigi holding her in that way.

“I mean. I guess I have to talk to her face to face. For all I know she can’t speak for shit in real life. She said she’s going to your party tonight. Maybe all will be revealed…”

Crystal breathily laughed out a response as she turned into the school gate. She knew she wasn’t ready to come clean yet. Gigi would simply have to wait another day.

The day passed in a blur. The girls skipped Phys Ed as per usual, but instead returned to the library again for extra revision instead of going back to the bike sheds to get high like last time.

Friday night took a painfully long time to come, but when it did, Crystal could hardly breathe the entire day. She managed to flirt her way out of sixth-period history so she was able to speedily bike her way home to make a start on her eccentric Halloween makeup. People were set to begin arriving at 9 pm, and there wasn’t much preparation to be done aside from throwing a couple of fake cobwebs around the place and placing stacks of red solo cups on the kitchen counter. Her makeup would take at least an hour and a half, so as soon as she got home she took a five-minute shower before beginning the look.

She painted her entire body a silvery grey before carving out strong cheekbones with black paint, giving her an undead appearance. She shaped her brows in a way that would make her look constantly mournful. She slipped her dress on, threw on four different silver necklaces, pulled her voluminous black wig over her head, and clipped the vail to it carefully. After admiring her masterpiece through her phone camera for a few minutes, the doorbell rang. It was Lux and Tiff, who had texted to say they were arriving early.

“Oh my God,” Crystal squealed as she opened the door, revealing the two girls. Both of them were dressed in beige prison outfits, and it quickly clicked to her that they were supposed to be Alex and Piper from Orange Is the New Black. “Lesbians, I assume,” she grinned, but the two girls in front of her were too busy gaping at her own outfit.

“Wow. You are Tim Burton’s wet dream,” Tiff said, pushing past Crystal and entering her home.

“No, I’m not. I’m not white, remember,” Crystal joked.

Lux had brought her large overpriced speaker to blast music. She heaved it into the living room and plugged it in, immediately starting to blast Stupid Love cause she was that girl.

Luckily for Crystal, her neighbourhood adored her. Her street was predominantly old women, but instead of constantly yelling at Crystal for dressing slutty, partying and smoking weed on her roof, they would simply envy her recklessness.

After an hour of pre-shots, people began to arrive. Most people brought their own alcohol, but it was clear that many of them were already drunk before they even arrived. Crystal remained in the foyer, leaning against the wall, singing along to Lux’s music and answering the doorbell whenever it rang. Every time the ringing echoed across the house, she’d subconsciously pray Gigi was on the other side, but for the first two hours, it never was.

Nicky, Jaida and Gigi all arrived at once, and Crystal felt herself get cotton mouth for a second when she looked over them all. Nicky was dressed in a basic white gown with her blonde hair down, however, she was absolutely drenched in fake blood and she wore a small prom queen tiara and sash. It was obviously a Carrie cosplay, and Crystal adored it. Jaida had her entire body painted green and wore a black catsuit over it, cosplaying as Gamora from Guardians of the Galaxy.

Crystal complimented their costumes first, but she couldn’t take her eyes off Gigi. Her Halloween costume wasn’t as bold as they had been in the previous years, but there was something about it that took Crystal’s breath away. The blonde had her hair down and curled in smooth waves and she was wearing a loose white dress with a victorian-Esque corset pulling her waist in impossibly tight. She had dripped wax below her eyes, giving a crying illusion, and her makeup was a shimmery purple, making her look angelic. Yes - that was her costume - an angel. Strapped across her back was the largest pair of faux feather angel wings Crystal had ever seen. They were reminiscent of the ones a Victoria’s Secret models would wear, and they shimmered under the moonlight.

“Holy fuck…” Crystal blurted, before squeaking slightly.

“I know right? They’re so fucking heavy,” Gigi giggled before hopping in and air-kissing Crystal on each cheek, “You look so good, girl.”

“Thanks,” Crystal smiled, deciding that she would no longer be taking doorbell duty. She wanted to enjoy herself, so she walked through to the kitchen where Daya was doing body shots with some guy she had never seen before and promptly decided to join her.

Every so often, she would catch Gigi dancing and knocking things over with her wings. She didn’t mind if Gigi ended up shattering a vase. She would glue up every fragment of china for her.

After her second shot, Crystal made her way to the living room with Daegen to observe people’s dancing, and that’s when she saw them.

There was this guy from Gigi’s geography class that she never shut up about. His name was Toby, and he was one of those ‘hipster boys.’ He was a self-proclaimed feminist but probably cried about rejections from women on the internet. Every time Crystal saw his lanky frame enter a room, she felt sick and fantasized about decking him. There was something about him that was just so irritating to her, and every time he stuck his tongue out at her friend or wiggled his eyebrows like a fucking loser, Crystal wanted to cave in on herself.

And there he was, in her home, dancing with her best friend to ‘If You’re Too Shy’ by The 1975, grinding against her cause her angel wings were too large for the roles to be reversed. Gigi was biting her lip and grinning wide - evidently drunk - and she flipped her hair and bounced to the upbeat synth. Nicky was cheering her on from the couch, and Crystal wished she could just shut the party down. So much for Gigi falling in love with her words? Now she was grinding over some flimsy incel that looked like he would have to be pegged by a woman in bed.

It only got worse from there. The blonde caught Crystal’s eye and she walked up to her slowly, her hand still intertwined with Toby’s. Her words were so slurred that the older girl almost didn’t catch them, but she heard Gigi say: “Hey Toby was wondering if your bedroom was free? All the other ones are occupied but I’m desperateeee.”

Crystal had to hold back the mouthful of vomit threatening to spill from her lips. Gigi was so incredibly drunk, and it seemed like Toby was sober, so the entire endeavour didn’t sit right with her at all. She mentally cursed herself for being so generous, because before she could even register what she was doing, she was pulling a small key out of her bra and Gigi and Toby were rushing their way upstairs.

“Fuck, Crys. Have some respect for yourself,” she mumbled when she was out of earshot from her friend. Decidedly, she made her way to the garden where she knew Daegen was smoking with Tiff. She had to ease her mind.

.

“Fuck, Goode, you’re so hot,” Toby grunted, carelessly pulling Gigi’s wings off her arms. Gigi’s mind was hazy and she couldn’t think or speak properly, so she wasn’t able to tell the boy that the wings were handmade and extremely fragile.

“Thanks,” she slurred as he began to undress her, “Wait.”

“What?”

“Let me try and find a condom.”

She hopped off Crystal’s bed and somehow managed to find her way to her friend’s chest of drawers. She found panties and tampons among many other things, but she couldn’t find a condom. She reached the final drawer and frantically poked around for one. Then she grabbed something, and suddenly she sobered up.

It was a red A5 notepad with a black swirly binder. On the red cover, Gigi spotted five faces; Zayn, Niall, Liam, Harry and Louis. She chuckled slightly, before opening the notebook. Her heart dropped. If the familiar 1D watermark print paper wasn’t enough to make the connection, the titular scribble saying ‘Love letter for Geege draft’ at the top sealed it.

“Are you okay, Gigi?” she heard Toby ask from the bed.

The blonde paused and furrowed her brow, not sure what to do next. “Um. I can’t do this. Sorry.”

“But it was gonna be so good… You look so fine…” “Not tonight, Toby. Sorry.”

Her tone was serious, and Toby knew not to cross her. The boy watched as she pulled her dress and wings back on, and squinted his eyes when she saw a small red notebook in her hands.

“What’s that?” he pressed.

“Get out. Crystal wouldn’t want you in her room.”

After muttering a few disgusting insults under his breath, he left the room, leaving Gigi alone on her best friend’s bed with an overwhelming amount of thoughts.

Downstairs, Crystal had a growing concern as to where Gigi was, because she swore she saw Toby leave with another girl on his arm. Instead of being petty, she decided to be a good friend and creep up the stairs. To her surprise, her bedroom door was wide open. Upon entering, she realised it was empty. And then she saw the small A5 One Direction notebook wide open on her bed, and knew it was time to shut the party down.

It didn’t take more than fifteen minutes to get everyone out, but she was still met with groans of annoyance due to it only being little after midnight. Daya stayed back to help Crystal clean up, but the blonde knew something was wrong.

“Crys? What happened?” she asked, placing a hand on the girl’s shoulder. Her other hand was occupied with a large bin bag filled with chip packets, put-out cigarettes and paper cups.

The small motion of comfort caused Crystal to break down, tears tumbling down her cheeks and creating streaks in her white face paint. Patches of caramel skin showed through as she cried more and more.

“No one… touched you… did they?” Daya questioned, dropping the trash bag and wrapping her arms around her friend’s waist.

“No,” Crystal sobbed, “I don’t really wanna talk about it. I’m fine. I just have to figure out a couple of things.”

“Do you need me to stay over?”

“No. It’s fine. I need some alone time.” The house was back to its usual state after twenty minutes, then D aya’s Lyft arrived and she left. Crystal found herself in front of her vanity, scrubbing at her face with cotton pads in an attempt to remove her many layers of makeup. She turned on her ‘Sad Girl Hours’ Spotify playlist whilst she cleaned herself up and continued playing it when she slid into the bath.

Gigi knew.

She couldn’t even think about why Gigi was snooping about in her drawers, she just knew that Gigi knew. Gigi finally made the connection. Crystal’s mask of hiding behind her romantic words was gone. There was no coming back from this. Part of her wanted to slide her body down the white acrylic bathtub surface, submerging herself in the water and remaining there until her lungs couldn’t function without another breath.

Instead, she simply sat there, neck and below beneath the steaming water, eyes shut. Her mind swarmed with escape plans. Would transferring to another school be worth it? Her current school was the best in the district. Should she give it up merely to run away from her problems? Should she face the issue head-on and talk about it with Gigi? Yes. Will she? Absolutely not.

She clambered out when the steam from the water began to make her dizzy. She straightened her blue hair every morning, but it had returned to its curly, frizzy state when it became dampened by the water. She rang it out into the sink using a hand towel, droplets of water falling from her naked frame. Everything was calm. The only thing that could be heard was the occasional sniffle - for Crystal was still crying sightly.

But, like all things, the peace came to an end when Crystal heard a clattering noise come from her bedroom. She yanked a towel from behind the bathroom door before hesitantly making her way back to her room, gasping when she saw someone climbing through her window. Instinctively, she grabbed a tennis racket that was hanging in the corner of her room.

“Jesus Christ - put that down!” the intruder gasped, and Crystal realised that it wasn’t an escaped prisoner coming to steal her and hold her captive in their trunk - it was Gigi.

Part of Crystal wanted to hit Gigi across the head with the racket painstakingly hard so the blonde’s memory would be wiped, forgetting the humiliating events of the day, but instead, Crystal just placed the racket down and covered herself tensely. She was still in her towel, and her hair was still dripping down her shoulders. She likely looked a mess, but it was too dark to notice.

“It’s almost 3 am…” Crystal whispered. Although she didn’t ask anything, it was clear her statement meant ‘why are you here?’

Gigi’s eyes trailed over to the blue-haired girl’s bed where the notebook still sat. Crystal had been afraid to touch it.

“Listen, if you’re going to ridicule me, do it on Monday, cause I’m too tired for this-” the older girl began, but Gigi stepped closer towards her.

The blonde had removed her costume and had her face now bare of any makeup. She was just stood there in black sports leggings and a pink sweater that was three sizes too large, swallowing up her slender frame. Her hair was damp and now in plaits, and her eyes were as puffy and tear-stained as Crystal’s, yet somehow still so beautiful.

“I’m not going to ridicule you, Crys,” she whispered, “I just wanna know… Was it you all along?”

Crystal didn’t wanna say it. Her body had never burned so bad, despite being bare and dripping with water. It was impossible to look Gigi in the eye, so instead, she looked at the gathering dust on the floor, gulping instead of responding.

“Answer me, Crys.” - she was getting closer.

“I don’t know if I can- if I can say it-” Crystal stumbled, her voice cracking under pressure.

Gigi stepped into Crystal’s bubble suddenly, reaching for the latter’s shaky hand. She took it in her own and pressed a soft kiss to it. “Don’t be scared to talk to me. We are best friends, remember. We vowed to always be transparent with one another - so I need you to tell me.”

After too long, Crystal finally met Gigi’s sparkling blue gaze. She swallowed back yet another lump in her throat before nodding. “It was me. I wrote them. All of them.”

The older girl swore she heard Gigi’s breathing hitch, but if the blonde was shocked in any way, she didn’t show any sign of it.

“I wanted to believe it was you, but when you seemed so disinterested in the letters, I began to question it. I never knew that you could write in such a way, Crys,” Gigi smiled sadly, reaching over to catch a tear spilling from Crystal’s eye with her thumb. The touch seemed to burn, sending electrifying sensations through both of them. “Did you truly mean everything you wrote in those letters or was it all a big joke to make me feel special?”

Crystal gasped slightly and furrowed her brow.

“Gigi Goode… You are special. When we got high during Phys Ed and you were all touchy I- I realised that I liked you. Even though it hasn’t been long since I realised it, I know my attraction to you has been there from the start. It started to become impossible to be around you without telling you how I felt, so I wrote it down in letters and hoped I could send the feeling away.”

Crystal was crying now - hard. She was a crier, and everyone knew it, but there was something about the quiet whimpers escaping her lips at that moment that took Gigi off guard.

“I wish you would’ve told me but, I can’t blame you. It’s terrifying,” Gigi sighed, stepping even closer. “I can’t even begin to explain how those letters made me feel, Crys. They made me feel like I hold some significance in somebody’s life. That someone might want me. That I am good enough for someone. You made me feel all that.”

In a bold move, Crystal was reaching towards her friend and tucking an escaped wisp of blonde hair behind her ear, “I can’t imagine a world where you aren’t good enough, Geege.”

“Your letters made me feel so loved,” Gigi sniffled. “Do you love me, Crystal?”

Crystal parted her lips, her hand still lingering by the side of Gigi’s face. It was a make or break moment.

“Yes,” she breathed, and then Gigi was leaning in.

The blonde paused before their lips could meet, looking for a sign of approval in her friend’s eyes. Crystal nodded, and that gave Gigi what she needed to finally press her lips against the former’s frown. They instantly became so content like that, lips moving together so perfectly like they just fit.

It was so gentle, to begin with, Crystal’s hand barely touching the side of Gigi’s face - but then the blonde’s fingers grabbed the top of Crystal’s arm, pulling her closer and prying her mouth open with her tongue. Their lips shifted clumsily against each other, but it still felt so right. Crystal tasted like teardrops and pineapple juice, and Gigi tasted like mint.

As the kiss became more and more heated, Crystal figured out what to do with her free hand. She took Gigi’s hand and led her towards the knot that held her towel together, staring at the blonde with dark, lustful eyes.

“I want you,” Crystal said, like it was a promise, “I need you.”

“I’m yours,” Gigi replied, pulling the knot loose and watching as the towel dropped by Crystal’s feet, showing off tanned curves glistening in water drops, begging to be marked.

They pulled one another in once again in a knee-weakening kiss, their noses colliding with each other as the passion fogged their minds. Soon, they were falling onto Crystal’s bed, and Crystal was watching whilst Gigi undressed herself in front of her.

“Promise me we’ll do this, and then we will talk everything out?” Crystal asked whilst Gigi was pulling her leggings off.

The blonde pressed a gentle kiss against Crystal’s cheek before whispering, “Of course. I love you.”

While Crystal watched Gigi hook a naked leg over her own, all she could think was: Widow VonDu needs a pay rise.

[books-and-milkshakes]

Work in progress Sunday

From an enemies to lovers fic

Betty slams her shot on the table.

“Jughead Jones,” she growls. “Do you remember that asshole.”

Veronica chuckles as she watches her best friend chuck a beer. Betty Cooper didn’t often get drunk, most of the time she was the only sober person after going out, but when she did, she didn’t half-ass it.

Betty had called Veronica 2 hours earlier and said she wanted to go drinking. It was rare that Betty initiated a night out, so Veronica knew it was serious. She brought along her new friend Toni Topaz who is now looking at Betty concerned.

“Yes, I remember that asshole,” she says while trying to wrestle the beer glass out of Betty’s hand. “How can I forget when you mention him all the time.”

“Who is Jughead Jones?” Toni asks.

Betty just groans and lays her head on the table as if that is an answer.

Toni looks at Veronica confused, who just shrugs and smiles affectionately at her best friend.

She is tempted to take a picture and send it to Alice Cooper. The woman would age 10 years if she could see her perfect daughter like this.

“Jughead,” she says to Toni. “Is an old friend of ours. We all met in kindergarten and attended the same schools ever since. He is also Betty’s eternal rival”

Betty groans her agreement, but doesn’t care to lift her head back up. Veronica pats her hair before continuing.

“In middle school they were on the school newspaper together and they both wanted to be editor. They tried to outdo each other with bigger and better stories, and they uncovered a lot of shady things about the school and our hometown in the process, but eventually they became co-editors. The same went for grades, they were the top students of their year and were co-valedictorians.”

Veronica smiles at the memory. Even during their speech they tried to shove each other of the podium.

“They wanted to outdo each other so badly, but they were evenly matched. God, they hated each other.”

Toni nodded. “So they were rivals, but that was back in high school which was six years ago. Why is she mentioning him now?”

Veronica smiles. “Because, my dear Antoinette, fate is a cruel mistress. They went to the same college, both majoring in journalism and they now work for the same website.”

“Wow,” is all Toni says before she starts laughing. “That is some bad luck.”

Veronica has to restrain herself from laughing, it is quite funny.

“My stupid boss,” Betty speaks out loudly. She slowly lifts her head like it hurts to do it.

“He says we have to work together on our next article.” 

She turns to Veronica with a pout on her face. “Why V, why do I always have to work together with him.”

Veronica sweeps some hairs that have escaped her ponytail out of her face.

“I don’t know sweetie, but let’s get you home. You have to work tomorrow.”

Yes, Betty Cooper decided to get smashed in the middle of the work week.

To her surprise, Betty doesn’t fight her decision. Instead she stands up with a surprising amount of grace, smoothes out her work skirt and starts walking towards the bar. 

“I’m paying for our drinks,” she says over her shoulder.

Veronica huffs a laugh and pulls out her phone to dial an uber.

“Wow,” Toni breathes out. “I did not expect her to get like this.”

“It’s an annual event, so be honored you got to witness it.”

“That guy must be really irritating if Betty has such a reaction to him.”

Betty is known to get along with everyone. She is a people pleaser and goes out of her way to make sure everyone likes her, so it can be surprising that the resident good girl dislikes someone so much.

“He can be quite irritating,” Veronica pauses and looks back at Betty who is eagerly paying the barman. “But there is something else going on between them.”

Toni scoots her chair closer and leans towards Veronica. “How much sexual tension?”

Veronica rolls her eyes. “It’s unbearable. You can choke in it when you’re in the same room as them.”

Toni laughs but immediately shuts up when Betty reappears at their table.

“I paid the barman,” she says proudly and judging from the giddy look on the guy’s face she tipped generously.

“You sure did, B,” Veronica says while putting an arm around her best friend. “Now let’s get you home.”

[sierraraeck]

Xena (Pt.2)

Aundreya Chambers

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Summary: Her attempt to fix things leads Aundreya directly to one of her greatest enemies, and to some of her greatest friends. Story nineteen.

Category: Angst, but it’s basically just like Aundreya working a “case.”

Warnings: Cussing. There is a knife fight and someone gets stabbed.

Word Count: 4.1k

A/N: I know this one is a little Aundreya-centric, but we will get back to the whole squad in a moment. Also, if this means something to you, I want you to think Dauntless from Divergent as far as building and overall vibe.

Everyone was in position.

Niko and one of the next in line, JT, were already inside as my back up. Deen had been giving us updates through ear pieces, and Roman, along with a team of trackers, was waiting outside of FBI headquarters for the jet to land. I was hopeful that we’d be done before they got back. Mateo was waiting outside of the building, watching the entrances. I didn’t want him inside, for fear he’d be too impulsive, plus he’d do a good job up against DeLeon if he happened to show up. I was waiting with him, both of us leaning up against the brick behind us waiting to get the call that Xena had shown up and it was time for me to go in.

“Would you come back?”

It was out of the blue, and I wasn’t sure what he was referencing. “What?”

“Would you come back?” he repeated. “After this is all over. Xena and DeLeon taken care of, the FBI safe, you and me and the rest of the team safe. Would you come back to us?”

I knew the other question hanging in the balance so I didn’t want to answer. Would you come back to me?

“I don’t know,” I replied, “I haven’t gotten that far.”

“Yes you have,” he said, finally glancing over at me, “You plan way too far ahead to not have an answer to that. Don’t lie to me.”

“Mateo, I-”

“Sounds like a no, then,” he bitterly threw at me, turning away.

“I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t have to. What do you expect us to do without you?”

“I didn’t say I was leaving,” I tried to circle back.

“Is there someone else?” he asked. The question shocked me. He wasn’t usually like this, but I guess a lot had changed since the last time I saw him.

“Uh, I mean, no.”

“Convincing,” he pressed his lips together.

Very nice, Aundreya. Just keep wrecking your relationships. It’s working really well for you.

I sighed, then stepped in front of him, making him look up at me. “There is no one else.”

It was barely a whisper when he asked, “An agent? Really?”

“Exactly,” I pointed out. “That’s why it doesn’t matter. It’s never going to work, so no. No one else.”

“Of course it matters, Alionth.” And he was right. It did matter, I just wanted it not to.

“No, it doesn’t,” I pleaded. “I haven’t seen you in three years, and yes, I made connections or whatever while I was away, but that’s all they were. Connections to get to the end goal, like I told you before I left. I was in a dark space for a while and one of them helped me out and that was it. End of connection. Plus, they’ve got someone, so like I told you earlier, it doesn’t matter. Mateo, I still lo-”

He cut me off, smashing his lips into mine. He pulled me closer and I kissed him harder, hands moving to his hair.

“She’s here,” Niko’s voice whispered in both our ears. He pulled away, drawing another small sigh from my lips as I looked into his eyes. It was almost like they represented the two different sides of him. Maybe the two different sides of me.

Mateo brushed his thumb over my jaw and softly said, “Don’t say that until you mean it.”

All I could do was nod and turn toward the door. “Be safe.”

“You too,” and then the room enveloped me in darkness.

There were a couple of dim, flickering lights that buzzed when the lightswitch was on, and I saw the outline of a woman about 30 paces from me.

“You know, it’s rude to keep your clients waiting,” her sing-songy voice rang across the room. “It’s a wonder you still have some coming to you.”

“Well, it’s also rude to frame someone for murder, so I guess we’re even,” I deadpanned. I heard her steps echo through the room as she approached me. I decided to meet her in the middle so I could see her better. No need to be surprised if I could help it.

When she entered the light, I saw that she had her long, wavy blonde hair back in a slick ponytail, and was wearing a long black trench coat with combat boots. Her hands were in her pockets.

“Still sour about that?”

“Still sour about the gang?” I fired back. It landed, like I knew it would. If I had to guess, she spent most days trying to push those thoughts back down. “I mean, that’s why you’re here, isn’t it?”

“If you want to phrase it that way, sure,” she plastered on a fake smile.

“Open your jacket,” I commanded.

“Excuse me?” she sounded offended, but I just stared at her. She relended with a sigh and opened it. There were two guns and an entire knife set in there.

“On the ground.” She dropped all three on the cement in between us. “And your boots.”

“So you haven’t forgotten everything,” she sneered, removing both of her boots. She flipped them upside down and shook, but nothing fell out.

“I haven’t forgotten anything.” I motioned for her to hand me her shoes. When she did, I ran my hand through both of them, finding a small blade taped to the sole. “Clever, but that has to be uncomfortable to walk on.” I tossed it in the center with the rest of her stuff.

“I’ll take the liberty on this one,” Xena said, ignoring me, turning both of her pockets inside out. “Your turn.”

I did a spin, showing her I had no pockets and I was wearing a short sleeved shirt with no place to hide things. Even though I was wearing tennis shoes, she still wanted me to empty them, so I did anyway.

“Well, now that that’s over,” I huffed, putting my shoes back on, “Why don’t we get to why you’re really here.” I walked over to a dark corner of the room where I’d been storing her grandfather’s ‘letter.’ I snached it off a small table and walked back over to her. She reached for it, but I pulled it away before she could grab it.

“What now?”

“So you and DeLeon are working together?” I asked.

“How does that have anything to do with you and I’s business?”

It was a valid question, but she already knew the answer. “Xena, I know you and DeLeon have been behind everything. You’re working together and now you’ve been talking with Agent Archer.”

“And?”

“And, you know how things with DeLeon end. He will take over any agenda you have. Whatever you want, you won’t get, because we both know DeLeon is a lying, impulsive, control freak. It’s only a matter of time before you get into an argument, and I don’t think that will end well for you,” I aimed to rattle her, but she seemed pretty stable.

“Who’s to say it won’t end well for him?”

“You. You literally told me that the first time I met him. ‘Be careful with that one, Aundreya. He has an unfortunate habit of always getting what he wants. No matter what.’ And you know what, you were right. I can attest to that,” I said, my voice getting quieter at the end.

“This is different,” she insisted.

“You can try to fool yourself, but you can’t fool me. I know things aren’t going well. Your progress has slowed down, and I’d guess it’s because you’re trying to plan things out, and he’s not listening to you.”

Xena shook her head. “You’re wrong.”

“What’s keeping you with him? You know you could just let him self destruct and come work with someone who actually thinks like you. Who could actually help you get stuff done,” I offered.

She immediately caught my drift, “Really? You want me to come work with you?”

I nodded.

“Why in the hell would I do that? You took everything from me! You took my position, my grandfather, my gang, even my love-”

“Your love?” Is she seriously saying that DeLeon is her ‘love?’

“Yes! You were the shiny new toy to play with and I was old news. It seemed like anything I was good at and loved, you were better at and took from me. You took my entire home, Aundreya, and fucking Rafael let you! There’s no coming back from that! There’s no forgiveness in order,” she shouted, then took a deep breath, and finished with, “Let alone a partnership.”

“Xena, you don’t understand. Your grandfather did those things because he wanted to keep you safe.”

“His name is Rafael, and I doubt that,” she snapped.

“I have his letter, his dying words to you. He wasn’t thinking of me, or DeLeon, or the gang in his last moments. He was thinking of you. That tells you something,” I softened my voice, and cautiously took a step toward her. If I could sway her to work with us, we might actually have a chance of taking down both Archer and DeLeon, and get out alive. If not…

“That he had regrets? Yeah, does me a lot of good now,” she hissed.

“But it might help ease some of those thoughts that have been nagging at you for years, give you some sort of closure. It might help you put it all aside and move on. Don’t you want that?” I asked. Her lack of response was enough for me to continue, “Come back to headquarters with me.”

“So you can ambush me? No thanks.”

“Come on. We can sit down and read this letter together. Plus, I have the little box he left it in with a variety of other stuff in it,” I offered.

“Why would you have held onto it this long?” her voice was incredulous and her face matched it.

“He was my mentor and at the time, my best friend’s family,” I gave her a pointed look, “And I know I don’t seem like it, but sometimes, I can be sentimental.” And the future possibility of leverage isn’t bad either.

I cautiously turned to head toward the door, my back facing her. Normally I would have faced her head on the entire way there, but I wanted to see if, and how quickly, she’d betray me. I heard a very soft scraping sound on the concrete, which could only mean one thing. I whipped around and caught her raised wrist, knife in hand.

“Wrong choice,” I muttered. I tweaked her wrist, causing her to drop the knife with a clatter, and I kicked her back the way she came. For the few moments she was winded, I looked upward toward the rafters and shook my head. I hoped Niko and JT understood that I didn’t need their help just yet. I was hoping to deal with her all on my own.

I sauntered toward her and leaned down in her face, wrapping a hand around her throat. Before I could do anything else though, she grabbed one of the guns behind her and hit me in the forehead with the butt. I stumbled back and placed my hand over the spot she hit, blood already streaming down the side of my face.

Bringing nothing to a gun fight hadn’t really been my intention, so I was just going to have to improvise. Instead of waiting around for her to shoot me, which she would, I rushed toward her as she attempted to get to her feet. I kicked her knee in with the heel of my foot, then stepped on her hand that held the gun. She held on, so I had no choice but to reach down and try to take it from her grasp. In the process, it went off, echoing through the walls with ear splitting volume. I didn’t know where it hit, and I didn’t really care as long as it wasn’t me or my boys. I finally yanked it from her hand and threw it across the room.

Xena scrambled to reach the pile of weapons we’d created earlier, but I lunged over her to get there first. I was about to grab hold of the second gun when she grabbed me by the ankles and pulled me back. I started thrashing, kicking my feet in whatever direction, hoping to hit her somewhere that would hurt. I heard her moan, so something worked, but I didn’t take the time to figure out what did. I reached for the other gun and threw it in the same direction as the first one. When it came down to it, I could beat Xena in a knife fight. Guns were too unpredictable.

In a flash, I saw a figure land in the darkness of the corner, pick up both guns, and disappear again. God I love them.

I grabbed the second largest knife, and the closest one to me, refocusing my attention on Xena. I turned on my back for a better angle, but when I did, she was on top of me. She grabbed hold of my wrist and brought the knife to my throat, barely grazing it. I brought my other hand up to try and force the blade back her way. She brought her knees down with all of her body weight on my chest, over and over and over again, beating the breath out of me, and in turn, forcing the blade closer to my throat.

“How does it feel?” she bit through clenched teeth. “How does it feel to know that you’re going to lose to me?”

I brought my knee up between her legs, and struck her across the face. I shoved the blade upward, hearing a crack as blood rushed down her nose, dripping onto my cheek. I used the strength I had left to force her on her back, effectively switching our positions.

“It feels great,” I growled, taking back control over the knife. I brought it down across her shoulder, a screech escaping her lips. I stood up and kicked her in the side before opening a gash across her abdomen. Blood was spilling onto the floor, and I moved toward the pile of knives to collect them before turning back to her. When I did, she had a stained piece of paper in her hands.

The letter. I must’ve dropped it during the fight.

I opened my mouth to make a comment about it, but instead got cut off by hysterical laughter. In her dying moments, Xena was laughing like a wild hyena. “Of course. That bastard would never. I should have known,” she croaked out between broken breaths.

The letter was empty, just a blank sheet of paper I’d shoved in an envelope. I never actually planned on giving it to her, at least, not that one, and honestly didn’t even believe our encounter would end any differently than it had. “The real one is back at the ring,” I nonchalantly informed her.

“It doesn’t exist,” she shook her head profusely.

“I guess we’ll never know.” I did, in fact, have a letter with writing on it back at headquarters in the off chance she agreed to help me. It was fake, I’d written it myself, but had she come back, she would have never known the difference.

I was about to leave her for dead when she called out, “You were right.”

“What?” I was so shocked by the words coming out of her mouth, that I walked over to make sure they actually were hers.

“The only reason I was looking into you, using Corbyn, was to get answers about Rafael and you. And why you were working with the same FBI team that closed in on the gang. Your gang. I wanted all the info I could get so I could hurt you, like you hurt me,” she finished with a chuckle, but immediately clutched her side, coughing.

“Why are you telling me this?” My voice was cold and demanding.

“To let you know that my intentions seem innocent compared to DeLeon’s.” The craze in her eyes was enough to make me take her seriously. “When he finds out that I’m dead, he’s gonna come for you.”

I didn’t let her rickety breaths and threatening words shake me. I wanted her last memory to be of her ultimate enemy standing over her, so I composed myself before leaning down to her ear and whispering, “I hope so.” I pulled away to see her wicked smile, one that you’d only see in horror movies or nightmares. My voice sounded chilling, even to me, as I mirrored her smile, announcing, “This is for Sydney.” Then I plunged the knife right through her heart, her crazed eyes turning dull, but that curled smile plastered on her face for death.

# # # # # # # # # # # # #

“I’m fine, really,” I tried to convince the growing circle around me as we made our way to the infirmary. We’d hired a doctor that broke the law in order to save a patient’s life, costing her her license. She could no longer work at hospitals, but we paid her well and she could still do what she loved.

“You’re not. You can barely walk,” Deen was saying, his arm wrapped tight around me as we hobbled up the lavish staircase to her mansion. She did get to keep that though, and decided to run her little infirmary out of the unnecessarily big basement. Deen with his bad knee, and me clutching my ribs and stained with blood were probably quite a sight making our way up the stairs to her front door.

“Jesus, I didn’t realize it was this bad,” I heard Mateo’s voice declare from behind us. I’d sent him to make sure that everyone else was okay, and get a report from Roman and her people about the BAU. “Let me help.”

“Good luck with that one, bud,” Deen rolled his eyes, “You know how she is about help when she’s obviously the picture of health.”

“Let me,” Mateo offered.

“I’m fine you guys,” I insisted again.

“Alright,” Deen said, shrugging his shoulders and letting go of me. I nearly collapsed without his support, and I would have if Mateo hadn’t been there. He caught me and scooped me up bridal style.

“Deen, you are the worst best friend I’ve ever had. And the meanest,” I deadpanned.

He smiled brightly, “Have you looked in the mirror lately?”

“I will hit you.”

“I look forward to that, in, what?” he gestured to my broken and bloodied state, pretending to look at a watch, “Three months?”

I basically growled at him, to which Mateo chuckled and said, “Down girl.”

I turned my fiery eyes on him, which only made him laugh harder. “Could you have said that any louder?”

Mateo opened his mouth and started yelling, “DOW-” before I slapped my hand over his mouth. He kissed it, which made me smile, and I moved it to his cheek which he leaned into. I curled a little farther into his strong chest as he turned sideways so we could pass through the door. Niko was waiting for us at the top of the stairs to the basement, and followed us down. Mateo sat me gingerly on one of the beds, and stood back as the doctor, Doctor Madden, started getting to work on me.

She started with the gash on my forehead and worked her way down. She patched up the small cut on my neck, then had to pull my shirt off me to see what was happening on my side. She informed me that I had reopened the stitches from when I got shot, and most likely refractured the ribs that had been healing, or potentially broke them in new areas. She examined the rest of me, and besides a sprained ankle (I don’t know when or how that happened), everything else was just a bruise.

Long story short, I’d be hella-sore in the morning. Pure adrenaline was making up for it now.

I thanked Doctor Madden, and so did the twins as they entered the room. “Can you make sure that Deen-” I started.

“Deen has everything under control?” Deen finished my question as he waltzed into the room. “Yeah, he does.”

“Thank you,” I croaked. The exhaustion, physical and mental, was hitting me all at once.

“How long are you supposed to be like this?” he asked.

“She said over six months,” I said, raising my eyebrows, “But I’m hoping we can cut that at least in half. We don’t exactly have that kind of time.”

Mateo spoke up, “But hey, we can call this one a success. Mostly.”

I laughed, knowing the ‘mostly’ was directed at my four injuries. “Mostly,” I repeated.

“The Lions have done it again,” Mateo smiled.

“You’re still trying to make that work?” Niko and I asked at the same time.

“Yes. It’s perfect. Alionth. We can’t just keep calling it ‘the ring,’” Mateo mocked.

“We have for nearly ten years,” I pointed out.

“And, it’s more inconspicuous to say in public,” Niko acknowledged. I nodded and pointed at him to show my agreement.

“Lame. The Lions,” Mateo insisted.

“Alright,” I said, rubbing my eyes, “I’ll think about it?”

“You won’t, but I appreciate you saying that,” Mateo smiled. The light in his eyes seemed to warm me from the inside out, ans I bet someone could scientifically prove that his smiles healed. I felt just a little bit better whenever he did.

“I guess we’ll leave you to it,” Deen said, ushering Mateo and himself out of the room.

Niko started to follow, but hung back. “You know, Mateo-”

“I know,” I cut him off, “It was unfair of me to lean on him like I did and let us get that close before leaving. Once on my own accord and the other not.”

“True, but that wasn’t what I was going to say.” I looked up at him confused, but he answered my unasked question with, “I was going to say that Mateo isn’t the only one that wants you to stay. Sure, he’s got different and, one might even say bigger, reasons, and you know, he does still have feelings for you, but there are plenty of others of us that are hoping we can do enough to convince you to stay.” I opened my mouth to respond, but he kept talking. “You don’t have to answer right now, just promise me you’ll think about it.”

“Of course,” I promised, “And thanks again for, well, everything.” I gave him a quick, tight-lipped smile. He nodded at me, and then left, following his brother and friend out the door.

# # # # # # # # # # # # #

I was doing everything I could to recover as quickly as possible. Doctor Madden said that if I continued on this course, I might be ready to ‘lightly return’ after four to four and a half months.

I didn’t even make it halfway there.

I was falling asleep in the infirmary bed like I had every night for the past two months. I still had people tracking the BAU, and Archer who I was told was properly freaked out, telling me that they were all safe and that the only creepy people around were them. That brought me some sort of relief, yet I was still waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Nothing Xena says can be taken too seriously. She religiously lied, and constantly tried to freak people out. Especially us, me in particular. But there was just something about her eyes and the way she told me about DeLeon that compelled me to believe her.

And I guess we all should have taken her more seriously.

Because that night after two months of recovery, I woke up to the sounds of scraping on the ceiling. It sounded like someone was rearranging the furniture. It wasn’t my place to judge what Doctor Madden did at 1am, but this had never happened before. I tried to ignore it. I mean, it wasn’t too loud and it stopped after a minute or two. Then I got this gut wrenching feeling. Call it instinct, call it the wind, but something was wrong and I knew it. I opened my eyes and made a move to get out of bed, but it was too late. I could smell the chloroform all around me.

I tried to get out of bed, but all my injuries were delicate and I couldn’t move very fast. I tried to identify where the smell was coming from so I could get rid of it. It was a small rag trapped in the railing on the underside of the bed, near my pillow. Once I found it, the only thing I remember is a panicked, peaceful darkness.

Series Taglist (open)

@justanothetfangirl @kris-stuff @blameitonthenight21 @wooya1224 @unded-bride @swiftingday @dezzxmx

[yeoobiii]

A New Home | Neighbour AU | Chapter 3

Prompt: “Hey, I locked myself out, can I stay at your place until my roommate comes home?”

Pairing: Harrison Osterfield x Fem!Reader, Tom Holland x Fem!Reader

Summary: Y/N’s life couldn’t have been more ordinary. She lived together in an apartment with her sister, while being a student at the nearby college. The small flat next to hers stood empty for a while now, until one day two young men moved in. What at the beginning seemed like a simple new encounter, tured out to turn her world upside down.

Warnings: swearing, drinking

Word count: 3.3k

Prolouge | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

Your doorbell rang. You were currently not doing anything special. You were lying on your bed, scrolling through your phone. You got up and made your way to the front-door. You didn’t expect anyone or anything, so you wondered who could be at your door. The door doesn’t have a spy, which meant you had no idea who was standing on the other side of it.

As you opened the door, you were greeted by the smiley face of a blond boy with blue eyes. He was holding a paper-bag excitedly right in your face. A little panic started to spread in you. Since you were home alone and had no plans for the night, you were only dressed in a pair of black shorts, watermelon socks and a loose t-shirt with no Bra under it. Your panic was mixed with confusion. What was he doing here and why was he so excited?

Since the text he send to your sister two days ago, you haven’t heard from him. You really weren’t expecting anything anymore at this point. You also tried to do your best not to think about about him or this stupid kiss. You had to admit, it was hard and you needed a lot of distractions, but it worked somehow. Or actually it didn’t. You just liked to tell yourself that it worked.

So, now he was standing in front of your apartment on a Monday evening.

“I’ll be back in a second.” you told him and ran off, smashing the door back into its lock.

Harrison’s smile faded and was replaced with a confused look as the door was smashed shut right into his face.

You sprinted to your room and looked around for something to wear. You got out a bra. Also, you found a black shirt somewhere in the mess you called your room. You grabbed a pair of light blue skinny jeans from the floor and put them on. You decided the socks were fine. You got your hair free from the messy bun on your head, brushed it and pulled it together in a proper ponytail. After a second look into the mirror, you decided that you still looked awful, but not as awful as you did one minute ago. You rushed back to the door and opened it again.

Harrison was still here, looking around. His attention was back on you within seconds and he was still smiling brightly. The whole evening, he didn’t make one comment on what just happened.

“Hi, Harrison.”

“Hi, Y/N.”

You realised that you were still standing in the doorway, so you moved out of your way that Harrison step in.

As he put his bag on the kitchen counter, you asked:

“What are you doing here?” you didn’t know what to expect by this sudden visit.

“I hope you haven’t eaten yet.” he raised his eyebrows at you excitingly. You shook your head and signalised him to continue.

He took a deep breath and started explaining, while unpacking his bag:

“Even though your sister told me, you loved take out; I decided on something else, but still similar. Because I fucked up pretty badly last Friday, I wanted to make up for it. And I wanted to apologize. But I thought coming here and saying ‘I’m sorry’ is kinda lame. Even though, I really am. And since I have a secret source that told me you liked sushi, I thought I’d make sushi for you. Or we can do it together. However you’d prefer it.”

You were taken aback by his offer and his apology as well. In your head you always just told yourself that Harrison probably didn’t waste another thought about you, after he left your apartment on friday. And now here he was, apologizing and ready to make your ‘favourite food’ for you.

“I’ve never made sushi before.” you stated, since it was the only thing that came to your mind on what to say.

“Me either. See, that’s the point where I think this gets interesting. You can either watch me fail completely and use me to your amusement. In that case, I’ll probably end up buying take out for us anyway or you could help me and we could try to actually make some enjoyable sushi. So, what do you say?”

You were really impressed by his enthusiasm. It rubbed off on you a little. And suddenly, you found yourself, wanting to make sushi with Harrison Osterfield on a Monday evening.

You realised, Harrison was really sorry for what happened. From your point of view, he didn’t even have to be. He should be apologizing to his girlfriend out of everybody. Sure, the situation unsettled you, but in the end, it was you who overreacted. You were the one planning on apologizing to Harrison for handling the situation like this. But if it would have went your way, you probably just would have avoided him to the point where you were faced with the unavoidable. Maybe in the end, you and Harrison could become friends.

“Sure, I’ll help you.” you told him and with that made his lips curl up into a silly smile.

“Great!” he happily stated, “We need to cook some rice then.”

You and Harrison were hopelessly lost. None of you were really good at cooking, even though Harrison likes to believed that about himself. You were fast in telling him that microwaving eggs was not cooking. You could tell he was slightly offended.

“I can make pancakes too.” he tried to defend himself.

And you just weren’t the cooker. You rather spend your time on something else. In your case, something else meant lying around all day and night doing basically nothing. You were just lazy. And with that, your take out-habit developed.

The good thing was, Harrison thought ahead and basically bought twice as much from everything than you actually needed. The first pack of rice went to shit. It wasn’t until Harrison was about to open your second and last pack as you came up with the idea to watch a tutorial on YouTube on how to actually cook sushi-rice. And with that you actually managed to do it and you also figured out what the rice-vinegar and the rice-wine were for.

“I’ve just read it in a recipe and thought it sounded sushi-ish; I had no idea what it was for.”

“It sounded sushi-ish? Makes sense when it’s in a sushi recipe, don’t you think?”

Just as they thought the hard part with the cooking was over, they came to the part where they actually had to roll the sushi. This time, they decided to watch the tutorial right from the start. While you were chopping the veggies, Harrison was very focused on what the woman in the video said about how to roll the sushi. You found it quite adorable how serious he was taking all of this. He probably didn’t even realise he started to mimic the movements the woman made in the videos. You had to smile to yourself, what a dork.

“You got it?” you hinted at his phone.

“I think so?” he neither sounded and nor look a 100% convinced.

They finished cutting the veggies together. In the sushi-kit Harrison bought, was a bamboo-matt to roll. Getting the rice on the nori-sheets was already challenging enough for Y/N. She and Harrison ended up with rice all over their hands. The rolling itself actually went really well. You were impressed by how good of a job Harrison was doing. After the second roll you wanted to try it yourself, so Harrison showed you.

“You have to push it back.” he instructed you.

“Like this?”

“Maybe a little more.”

Your roll turned out okay. Harrison’s looked better though, so you let him continue. After you were finished rolling and the rice pan was empty, the only thing left was cutting the sushi. Harrison read somewhere that you should cut it with a wet knife, so it would make a good cut. After messing up the first few, you eventually got the hang out of it and it didn’t even look that bad. You got out a fancy plate you forgot you had and you placed the sushi on it. As you looked at your final result, you couldn’t feel anything but proud.

“We actually did a really good job.” Harrison stated, “I’m gonna be honest, I thought we would fuck this up completely.”

“Same here. I’m proud of ourselves.” you retorted with a smile on your face. You and Harrison high fived.

The kitchen was a real mess, though. Harrison offered to take over the cleaning, since it was his apology and it was his idea to destroy your kitchen. Harrison was carrying the plate with sushi into the living room where you told him to put it. Eating in the living room on the couch was also a thing you adopted after some time.

“What do you want to drink?” you shouted from the kitchen.

“Oh, I actually brought something, only if you don’t mind, though.” Harrison came running back into the kitchen and pulled out a whole pack of Capri-Sun.

“In case one’s not enough.” he grinned at you, and you couldn’t help but grin back, “I thought we better skip the alcohol this time, since that wasn’t a success last time.”

“That’s actually quite perfect.” you told him, and he was satisfied with himself. Even though you had to swallow a little harder at his last comment. Why does all of this bother you so much? The better question, why do you keep thinking about the way it felt when your lips touched?

You walked back into the living room and took place on the couch.

You even found some old metal chopsticks in one of your many kitchen drawers.

“I gotta be honest with you” you started and Harrison’s attention was on you, “I’ve never had sushi before.”

“Wait, what? No, your sister told me it’s your favourite.”

“My sister likes to mess with me and apparently with you too.” you admitted with a small smirk on your face.

“But what if you don’t like it? Then all of this was for nothing.”

“What do you mean? I had a great time making it. And I definitely imagined my Monday evening to be rather boring, so thank you.”

“Yeah, you had a good time?” he wanted to assure himself. You only nodded which was good enough for him. A proud smile formed on his face. You could tell he was satisfied with himself.

You ended up loving sushi. The mango ones were your favourite, so Harrison let you eat almost all of them. You decided against watching anything while eating and so you talked. Harrison told you on what projects he was currently working on and you told him about your major in college and what your plans for the future looked like.

You were both kind of in the same situation. As you told him about your future, you had no idea where to start, because you had no clue on what to do after college. And he was talking about what he was doing right now, but he had no idea what to come after. You figured that you were both the kind of people to just finish what they were doing at the moment and didn’t thought about what was about to come after.

“Do you like your major?”

“I actually do. At first, I started with a different one, though. I change after the first half of my first semester.”

Harrison turned out to be how you thought he would be. You probably could talk about everything and everyone with him and at the same time, he liked to place a joke here and there. Not once you felt uncomfortable or awkward while talking to him. He doesn’t take himself or anything else too seriously. You also liked the way his dimples showed when he was smiling wholeheartedly. His laugh was mesmerizing too. But you had to stop your thoughts right then and there. There was no way you were about to develop feelings for a guy who was already in a relationship. If so, there would be only one person ending up heartbroken.

Harrison kept his promise and went to clean the kitchen after you two finished talking. But of course, you weren’t the one to let him clean up the mess you fabricated alone. He refused to let you help at first but eventually gave in.

“When are you planning on getting Frankie back?” he asked as his hands were busy washing your dishes and more dirty stuff from the kitchen.

You didn’t expect that he remembered her.

“I’ve got finals this and next week and after that, we’ll probably get her back.” you couldn’t help the smile that crept on your face while thinking about your dog. You just now realised how much you actually missed her.

“Sounds great. Let’s say I bring my dog along as well and we go in the park with them together or something?”

He actually wanted to spend more time with you, and you were really happy about that. You liked Harrison and you were excited to get to know him better, maybe one day, you’ll even meet his girlfriend.

“That actually sounds fantastic.”

He was also glad, you wanted to spend more time with him. He couldn’t quite explain why he felt so comfortable around you, he just knew that he did. And it was reason enough for him to want you in his life as a friend. 

As Harrison handed you a plate to dry, soap dripped from his hand directly on your t-shirt.

“Oh, shit. Sorry.”, he tried to wipe it away not thinking about his still wet hands. He only made it worse, and you started to laugh, since he didn’t seem to realize what he was doing.

He was suddenly so close to you. Harrison looked up at you as if he wouldn’t understand what’s so funny, until he saw the mess he fabricated on your shirt. His cheeks slowly reddened out of embarrassment. He looked at you with an adorable and apologetic look. Harrison didn’t seem to realize how close the two of you were.

The both of you grew quiet, neither you nor Harrison broke the gaze between you. His eyes were the clearest blue you’ve ever seen. Your chest started to grow tight. What was happening? Before you could even register Harrison starting to lean in, your phone started to ring. The both of you exhaled deeply.

“I should probably get that.” Your voice was quiet and flustered.

“Yeah, you probably should.”

Harrison turned away from you as you went to pick up your phone. He went back to clean the last few items in the kitchen, while you saw a picture of your sister lightening your screen and making it ring and vibrate.

“Hi, Lu. What’s up?” your voice seemed kind of shaky as you started talking to your sister.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine. What’s up?” you send an apologetic wave Harrison’s way as if to say sorry for the interruption.

“Wait, what happened?”

Harrison sensed that you sounded worried now. He wondered what was going on and if he could do anything to help. At the same time, he was still thinking about what almost happened two minutes ago. He tried to assure himself that it was nothing, he was fine. But he could not answer the question, what would have happened if you weren’t interrupted. He didn’t want to know. Or did he?

“No, no. I already ate … with Harrison, why? … let’s not talk about this now, okay?”

Harrison put the last spoon back into its place.

“Are you sure you’re alright?”

Harrison felt guilty for overhearing your call, but he couldn’t ignore the fact that you sounded really worried.

“Okay, yeah. See you in a few. I love you.”

You hung up.

Harrison looked at you with a curious and worried expression.

“You should go.”

“Did anything bad happen? Maybe, I can help.” he suggested, meaning every word of it.

“I’m sorry, but my sister is supposed to be home any minute and she told me she had a fight with her boyfriend. She said she was fine, but I know when she’s lying. But thank you so much for tonight. And just so you know, I was actually planning on apologizing to you because I acted childish that day. I’m sorry-” you started to ramble as Harrison cut you off.

“It’s fine, alright? I’m the one in a relationship, and I could see I made you uncomfortable.”

You hated how he said that. Like, he knew anything about you or when you were uncomfortable, like he had any power over the way you felt or didn’t feel. But you tried not to think about this now. You just knew, when your sister came home, you had to be there for her, no distractions allowed.

“Listen, Harrison, I’m really sorry to kick you out like this. But I have to look after my sister as soon as she gets home.” you tried to explain.

“No, of course, everything’s fine. I’ll just grab my stuff real quick.” Harrison went to grab his jacket and shoes. “If I can help with anything, you know where I live.” he offered, already halfway out the door.

“Harrison?” you called after him.

“Yeah?” he turned around.

“Thanks, again.”

He just smiled at that and closed the door right behind him.

After your sister hadn’t shown up for another two hours, you started to get worried sick. You tried to call her at least twenty times and sent her over fifty text messages. You even thought about going over to the boy’s apartment to ask them if they would help you search for your sister. By the time your front door opened, you were lying passed out on your sofa, your cell phone right in front of you.

Your sister slid of her boots as quietly as possible, even though it was hard for her to stand straight. Due to the amount of alcohol in her blood system, she eventually woke you up anyway.

“Lu?” you called, rubbing your eyes.

“Hey, baby girl. Don’t… mind m- me. I’ll- jus go t-to bed.”

“Are you fucking kidding me, right now.” your eyes weren’t adjusted to the light yet, “I was up all night waiting for you to come home. I was so fucking worried after your call. Where the fuck were you.”

You sat up, your face in your hands, as you started to hear quiet sobs. As you lifted your head, you saw a girl. The girl seemed lost and messy. There was barely any colour in her face. Her black hair was dishevelled, and wisps of it hang loosely in her face. The girl seemed broken, a tear rolling down her cheek. You didn’t recognize your sister in this girls’ eyes.

“Matt’s leaving me.” she whimpered, the usual dynamic her voice carried was gone.

You scooped on the sofa and Lu slowly walked towards you and eventually sat down right beside you. You could see how hard she was trying to keep it together in front of her little sister. How hard she tried to stay strong in front of her.

“It’s okay.” You whispered.

It was that moment she broke down in front of you. The tears were now streaming down her cheeks, and her make up was all over her face. Her sobs grew heavier, as she dropped herself into your lap.

You knew it wasn’t the time to ask questions. You still wanted to know what was going on. But you figured that Lu wasn’t in the constitution to talk right now. At the moment she just needed you, her little sister, holding her and spending her comfort.

What could she have meant by saying that Matt is going to leave her?

–

Tags:

obsidianspidey, ixchel-9275

[bazwillendinflames]

Norkus Nov, Day 13 - Carl and North 

 AO3

North doesn’t need her uncle’s help to find a boyfriend, but when he pushes his new assistant at her, she can’t bring herself to be so cold hearted.

Carl Manfred was many things - a great painter, a terrible cheat at cards and most distressingly to his nieces: a matchmaker. 

Having only one estranged child of his own (Leo… where did he go wrong?), Carl put most of his attention on his three young nieces. Kara was the oldest, the sweetest and the most optimistic of them. She had known Carl before his car accident and been the first to help her uncle when he was recovering. Kara’s constant positivity had stopped him becoming the kind of bitter old man he feared (even if she locked up his drinks cabinet). 

She never put herself first, so it had been up to Carl to help Kara realise that her perfect match had been right in front of her the whole time. It only took a little subtle nudging before his oldest niece was shyly asking if he would like to meet her new boyfriend, who just so happened to be the same Luther that made his paint deliveries. Kara had taken it well, although admitting about his inferring left his second oldest niece eyeing him suspiciously. 

The youngest of Carl’s nieces, Alice, was painfully shy. She shared the same vivid imagination and artistic flare as his famous uncle and they spent most of the summer painting together. Being too young for traditional matchmaking, Carl had settled for introducing her to some of the neighbourhood kids, hoping some new friends would help Alice get out of her shell a little. It was even more rewarding to hear her babble about her plans with her new playmates. 

Carl’s middle niece was proving to be the biggest challenge. North proved to be just as stubborn as he was, ducking out of ‘chance’ meetings with any potential dates. (“Maybe I’ll set you up one day,” she threatened once.) Still, Carl caught moments when she looked wistfully at how Luther held open doors for Kara or when the couple snuggled together during movies. Carl was determined to find a match so perfect for her that it overcame the infamous Manfred stubbornness. 

And he already knew who. 

   Markus had been Carl’s caretaker for the last three months. His job, by the most basic description, was to make sure he took his morning and night medicine. However, Carl had grown rather fond of him as they shared chess matches and card games (Markus wasn’t afraid to call out his blatant cheating, although Carl always denied it). 

Carl, using only the most subtle methods, had talked his young assassiant into coming to a gallery opening. 

“Are you sure I’m the right person for tonight?” Markus smoothed out his suit self-consciously. “I’m not an artist or…” 

“Who else is going to sneak me a whiskey?”

“Now, now, you know what your doctor said.” A voice drawled. 

“He was just kidding.” Markus pushed the glass behind him. 

North grinned. “I won’t tell if you won’t.” She held up a bottle of her own. 

“North, hi.” Markus smoothed out his jacket again. “You look pretty. I mean your dress is pretty, I wasn’t like objectifying you or anything. I mean…”

“Thanks,” she interrupted. 

Markus had a slight flush on his cheeks and even North’s usual eye roll seemed less sarcastic than usual. Most of their interaction seemed to end with Markus flustered, his crush on Carl’s niece painfully obvious. 

She fixed Carl with a suspicious look. “You didn’t tell me Markus was coming.”

“Old age,” he replied with a shrug. “You do look lovely dear.”

“Kara picked it. Not really my style.” North looked down at her long red dress self-consciously, stealing the tiniest of glances in Markus’ direction. “Too flashy.” 

“I like it,” Markus said. 

Carl smiled to himself, glad his plan was starting to take place. 

   “Markus, come help me carry these drinks.” 

He nodded, eagerly following her to the bar. Carl watched as they walked off, already feeling a little smug. (“Stay out of my love life,” North had told him, “I see you scheming.” But he knew best.) 

“Listen to me,” North whispered, grabbing his arm, “my uncle thinks he knows what’s best for me. This is a set up.”

“Like a prank?” 

“Like a date,” North corrected. “He always does this to us.” 

“Oh.” Markus looked at where her hand still gripped his wrist. “Is that why he told me to wear a nice suit?” 

“You call that a nice suit?” 

“What’s wrong with-” 

The grip on his wrist tightened a little, but Markus couldn’t bring himself to pull away. “If I asked you to-”

“Yes.”

“I didn’t finish.”

“Right, sorry.” Markus felt the usual flush to his cheeks in her presence. “Go on.” 

“We should turn this around. Pretend to be super into each other and just when Carl thinks his meddling worked we-”

“Kiss?”

“Did you just say…”

Now Markus was blushing for another reason. “No.” 

“Just when he thinks it’s another success story, bam!” North hit her other hand on the bar. “I throw my drink over you.” 

“But this suit is new.”

“Trust me,” North said, “I’m doing you a favour. Unless it’s too much. I’ve been told I can be intense.” 

“You are… but I kind of like it.” 

North laughed. “We’re off to a good start. Look, if you help me, I’ll owe you a favour.” 

“Okay. I’m in.” 

North grinned, clinking her glass against his. “It’s a deal then.” 

   Markus peaked over North’s shoulder, catching Carl with a smirk on his face. (He and North made a similar expression when they were up to mischief. But her smirk was cuter.) 

“Does he do this a lot?”

“The matchmaking?” North asked. “Yeah. Kara’s fault really. She’s engaged because of his poking around in her business. And she thanked him! She might as well have signed my life away.” 

“Maybe it’s a sign he has good taste.” 

North hummed in response, but still seemed unconvinced. “Kara’s got a big heart. It’s easier to get her to open it up to someone.” 

“There’s nothing wrong with having a big heart.” 

“Oh no, an optimist.” North laughed at her own joke. “Fine, I’ll admit I’m happy for my sister.” 

“I’ve only met her once. Kara, I mean. But she’s kind.” 

“She was like a Mother to me. I mean I had an actual Mom too, but she was off doing rich people stuff a lot. Kara’s eight years older, so she picked up the slack. She’s good with Alice too.” 

“Sounds like it was hard.” 

She shrugged. “It was what it was. I’m tough now.” She finished her drink off. “No more sad rich girl stuff now. I’m sick of it.” 

“Are you really?”

“Really what?”

“Sad.” Despite the fact it was just an act, Markus let Carl’s eyes on them justify resting his hand on top of her own. “I’ll listen.” 

“I”m not…” She glanced at him and sighed. “Sometimes. Mostly it makes me furious. I guess Carl told you I went a little off the rails when Alice was born, cause my Mom went and did it again.” Carl hadn’t, but Markus didn’t correct her. “And then she died and I was really Motherless. But so was my baby sister, so I had to grow out of smashing windows and getting arrested. You wouldn’t get it.” 

“Why do you say that?” 

“Because,” North began, “you’re so calm and you listen. I just scream.” 

“Sounds like a good match.” 

She laughed, but it was laced with a hint of bitterness. “You sound like Carl. I’ll stop talking about myself now.” 

“I’d listen to you all night.” The words escaped before Markus could really think about them. “I mean…” 

The hand in Markus’ own curled to hold back. “That’s such a line.” 

“I’ll tell you about the time I got arrested, if you tell me yours.” 

North grinned. “Markus, you are full of surprises.” 

   Out of breath, Markus checked around the corner, glad to see they weren’t followed anymore. 

“I- I can’t believe you did that.” 

North scoffed. “You’ve never played the ‘don’t touch the art’ game before? Amatour.” 

“I’ve never been to one of these before.”

“Oh,” she said, “and I’ve totally hijacked your first one and made it all about me.”

“No, no. I’m having fun.”

“But you want to be an artist. You are an artist,” she corrected. “Shit, sorry.” 

“You haven’t ruined anything. I’m not too nice to say no to you.”

“Could have fooled me.” 

“There’s nothing wrong with being nice.” 

North rolled her eyes. “I wouldn’t know; I’ve never tried being nice.” 

“I don’t quite believe that.” 

“You are a raging optimist.” 

Markus couldn’t help but smile. “Guilty. But I still think you’re kind, deep down. That’s what matters.” 

“Stop.” North glanced at the main entrance. “All clear.”

“We can’t go back in.”

North pulled her hair into a long ponytail. “There. Power of disguise.”

“It can’t be that simple.”

She spun around. “The best part about a dress like this, is no one is looking at your face.” 

Markus followed her in, not quite brave enough to protest against her. 

   “If your doctor asked, I brought you water.” 

Carl held up his glass. “Cheers to that.” 

Markus nodded. “How’s your night Carl?” 

“Whilst you’ve been running around with my niece, I’ve been admiring something different.” 

“Oh. You noticed that?”

“Don’t look so nervous Markus. I know North can hold her own. I should be more worried about you.” 

“North is stunning. I could listen to her talk forever and never get bored.” Markus seemed a self-conscious. “There’s a room full of beautiful art and I can’t seem to look away from her.” 

Carl was a little stunned himself. He had seen Markus’ crush on his niece from the moment they first met (he dropped a glass as she ruffled her hair; it was like a movie) but he hadn’t expected Markus to fall so hard. 

“You seem smitten.”

The signature blush was back.

“I am. I know she’s hate me asking but do you think I should ask North to dance?” 

   “It was a nice touch,” North said, swaying along with him. “The speech.” 

“You heard?” 

“Yeah. So, I’m stunning and a great conversationalist?” 

He groaned. “Don’t start.” 

“Hey, it’s affectionate teasing. I know it’s just part of the act.” 

“Right, the act.” 

“Besides,” North said, “no one ever talks about girls like that. It’s all ‘she’s hot’ and fist bumping.” 

“Is that really how you think I talk to people?”

“Maybe not you.” North giggled as he spun her around. “I can see my uncle thought you’d be a good boyfriend.” 

Markus felt a hint of hope. “Really?” 

“You’re sweet.” “Does this mean I don’t get a drink on my head?” 

“I was going to throw it on your suit actually.” 

“I’ll never dress myself again.” 

North shook her head. “Maybe that can be my favour. I don’t think you’re the suit-wearing-type. You should go fully artsy and buy a flowing coat.” 

“I have a flowing coat.” 

“You’re kidding!” North said. “I knew I liked you for a reason.” 

“So maybe I can dress myself.” 

“Maybe,” she echoed. “Thank you, for going along with my stupid idea. Truthfully, I get kinda bored at these things. Just not tonight.” 

“I’ll be your partner is crime any time.”

“Deal.”

Markus dipped her back as the song ended. 

“Markus,” North said, delighted, “you really are full of surprises.” 

   “I’ll see you tomorrow Carl,” Markus called, waving with his hand full of keys. “Bye North.” 

“Bye.” 

Carl waited until he had disappeared into the building before turning on her. “Nice boy.” 

“Yeah, he’s a real sweetheart.” 

“You didn’t even drop your drink on him. I owe your sister twenty.” 

“What!” North turned to him. “You knew!” 

“I practically raised you, dear. Of course I knew you’d be scheming. It was the best way to get you to spend the night with Markus.” 

“You’re evil.” 

Carl only smirked the signature Manfred smirk. “You liked him.” 

North dropped her head in her hands. “I know.” 

“Don’t feel bad about it my dear. I’m great at many things: painting, cards and matchmaking.”

“He was just playing along.” 

“That boy,” Carl said softly, “is the best assistant I ever had. But he wears his heart on his sleeve. Be careful with it.” 

Even with her face half-hidden, Carl could make out the smile on her face. 

Another success story. 

[justlostinautumn]

Playing House 3

Part 1, Part 2

Clint Barton x OC (Alexandra Knight)

Fury calls in help on a long hall mission that requires Clint to play house with someone he doesn’t know and has never met. Alexandra likes to work alone and isn’t one to play well with others. Nick and Alex have a past together and now Nick is asking his old friend to help out with the monitoring and infiltration of some HYDRA agents. But, not everything is as simple as it seems. Nick isn’t the only old friend Alex has on the team.

This was a mistake I couldn’t trust them with this. This information will make them want to stop this mission, but I have done too much for it not to go through. If Clint pulls out I will still do it. I have to do it! I walk into Nick’s office and pull off my suit and slip on some ripped black jeans and a loose tank top with open sides that showed my bra, but also my tattoo. It was a black watercolour crescent moon.

“Born to be a monster.” I sigh as I run my hand down my side.

I walk back to the conference room my heels clicking on the floor I pull my hair into a ponytail as I walk into the room. They get a good view of my tattoo. I know Bucky and Nat are looking at it frowning because it wasn’t there when they saw me last.

“Nice tattoo!” Wanda smiled at me.

“Thank you.” I smile softly at her dropping my arms back down.

“Why did you kill whoever gave you that and why does Clint get to know eventually?” Tony was impatient.

“Information and leverage are the reasons why I killed the person. The reason Clint get’s to know it because it will help with the mission. The person I killed was a rogue who was about to sell a lot of information to the government about their employers, but you see doing that wouldn’t shut down the whole group but just that one individual. Meaning all my hard work and Nick’s hard work would go to waste… not to mention all the people I killed.” I sighed thinking about all the work I put in for the last 6 months.

“How many people?” Bucky looked worried.

“A fair few had to make it look like two people were killing so more than usual.” I was vague enough that the others wouldn’t know, but from the look in Bucky’s eyes told me that he knew what I meant.

“What I am going to tell you now Clint, might make you reconsider you wanting to do this mission. I don’t care if you pull out, to be honest, it would be easier. But, you need to know even if you don’t go I still am.” I state firmly and I look at Nick daring him to say something.

“What if something happens?” It was Barnes who asks.

“My vendetta is done. If I die at least I will die in peace.” I smile at him and his eyes widen when he realises what I said and his eyes soften and nod in understanding.

“What might change my mind?” Clint asked I sat next to him turning his chair so we sat facing each other.

“This isn’t just killing bad guys. They want people who they can get to kill people who stand in their way… sometimes these people are bad, sometimes these people are innocent. Before anyone suggests put them in hiding that won’t work, these people expect evidence. Faking won’t work, someone tried and the people I killed were the ones that killed the last assassins hired. There are ways to hide people but take too long even if this is a 2-year mission we can’t do that for every person. You are going to have to kill ‘innocent’ people.” I look him dead in the eye and I see him swallow deeply.

“This doesn’t bug you?” Steve looks horrified, Fury looked neutral he had an idea this might be the case.

“I walk a fine line, Barnes will tell you that Rogers. Life isn’t black and white, there’s a whole lot of fucking grey everywhere.” I look him dead in the eye not blinking which throws him.

“So you will kill innocent people?” Peter looked sick.

“I wouldn’t call scientists experimenting on pregnant women and their foetuses innocent, but if you wanna then whatever floats your fucking boat. Yes, there may be a few good people in the mix like innocent partners and children. But, what you have to understand the job is just that a job. Yes, it’s fucked up, but the way I see it is you willing married and support a monster. It makes you just as guilty.” I can’t help but sneer, I see Bucky stiffen.

“That’s why you took this mission on?” Bucky looked at me.

“And James wins!” I smirk and Fury shakes his head.

“What?” Tony frowns.

“No!” Bruce looks at me shocked.

“What?” I smile at him.

“You are Project Zero?” Bruce asked and Tony froze staring open-mouthed at me.

“Ding, ding, ding!” I smirk.

“What’s Project Zero?” Peter asked everyone looked confused besides Bucky, Bruce, Tony and Fury.

“Project Zero was a program my parents created. Think Super Soldier, Black Widow and Spiderman Program. I was genetically enhanced with a cat mutation and some added extras. But, I was also injected with the new and improved Super Soldier Serum… all throughout my training and also my mother's pregnancy with me. I have the strength, agility, speed and endurance that would put you Super Soldiers to shame. The cat thing is all reflex, balance and a lot more. My training was more like torture, but also I learnt the normal things like emotions are a distraction, pain is a distraction, I learnt to fight with broken bones, I learnt how to not break under all kinds of torture, oh and I learnt how to not get my mind wiped. Parent’s always feared HYDRA would kidnap me and wipe me and use me against them.” I shrug like this was all normal and they all were gaping at me with open mouths. I look at Nick looking for an answer.

“Why not go by Black Cat?” Steve asked.

“I did for a while when I worked for my parents. But, when I left I went by Black Butterfly. Most people symbolise a black butterfly with misfortune and as an omen of death, and I just so happen to be both of those things.” I smirk at Steve.

“What are the added extras?” Bruce asked curiously.

“I believe there is some wolf in there and some other big cats… to be honest Doc I don’t know.” I shrug looking at him, I never really liked to think about what is in my blood it just brings back to the injections and I could live without it.

“That isn’t normal training for most of these individuals,” Nick spoke softly and I looked at them all realising I said too much and the doors in my mind start to close and I stiffen.

“Anyway, the decision is yours Barton, come or don’t. It doesn’t matter.” I nod and stand up and walk to stand next to Nick.

“I will do it,” Clint says calmly.

“Wait! What?” Steve and Tony looked shocked.

“She’s right, I knew Nick wasn’t asking me to do something easy. It made it even more clear when he told me it wouldn’t be Nat coming with me.” Clint shrugged.

“Plus it would be a waste of all of her hard work,” Nat smirked.

“Seriously, Buck what do you think?” Steve turned to his best friend.

“I’m sorry Steve, but I agree with Barton and Kitty over there.” Bucky states.

“You are thinking with your dick, not your head,” Sam shouted pointing at Bucky, something in me snapped and I was in front of Bucky grabbing Sam’s hand and pinning him to the table. His face smashed into the table and he moaned in pain and I hissed in response.

“He wasn’t going to hurt me,” Bucky whispered calmly rubbing his hands up and down my arms getting me to release Sam who was now sporting a bloody nose.

“The hell?” Sam shouted, I tensed but Bucky grabbed me and held me against his chest.

“I would be careful how you talk to Barnes and Romanov in front of her. She is protective over people she cares for, even if she won’t admit it.” Fury smirks at me.

“You are lucky you’re my friend,” I growled at him making him laugh.

“Nice Kitty.” Bucky scratched my head calming me slightly.

“Why not get Barnes to go undercover with her?” Tony finally asked the question everyone was thinking.

“Because he’s not the Winter Soldier anymore,” I say simply and everyone looks at me like I have grown another head.

“Of course he is.” Steve states.

“No, he’s the Avengers Winter Soldier, the Soldier atoning for his sins when he was in HYDRA. He is not Soldat, and also if I went into a HYDRA situation with the Winter Soldier we would be killed on the spot. But, pick the guy who is all ways overlooked on a team of heroes. A guy who on his own is a phenomenal individual capable of destruction if he wanted to, but is constantly overlooked by press and others. Someone, who slips into the background and becomes forgotten makes the job easier.” I answer not thinking about who I might hurt.

“What about Sam, Bruce, Steve or myself,” Tony asked.

“You and Steve are all over the press. Bruce is one wrong move from a bad day and Sam would not listen to what I say and think he knows a better way or would call Spangles over there for advice and would get us killed. Also, you’d all piss me off with the whole that’s wrong we should try and save them. You’d get me killed and I don’t mind dying, but if it’s because someone can’t do the job they are hired to do I will kill them and the target.” I spoke coldly.

“Why you and not Natasha or Wanda?” Steve asked obviously irritated by my answer.

“Witch over there wouldn’t be able to do the job and even though Nat would be able to do it she would second guess everything. Just because she did it once doesn’t mean she will be able to do it again. Walking away from this life isn’t simple, she would most probably be killed by someone who wants her head and they aren’t going to hunt for her when she has the protection of the Avengers. Whereas, this is the only life I know. It was the life I was born to do.” I say as if it is simple.

“Somehow you managed to insult everyone in the room within 10 minutes. Well done Ally Cat!” Nick laughed.

“They are asking stupid questions.” I pout at him and he pulls me into his side.

“I think you need a catnap before you kill one of my Avengers. You will be sharing a room with your husband.” Nick smirked at me.

“Okay, whatever. At this point, I’m too tired to argue with you.” I yawn and walk over to Clint and sit on his lap curling up and resting my head against his chest and drifting to sleep to the sound of his breath and heartbeat.

[chromecutie]

Not A Ghost - part 15

A/N - Multi-part fic. Colossus x OC where OC has come home after being wrongfully imprisoned in the Icebox. Warnings for whole fic - references and flashbacks to harsh prison environment, including various types of abuse. Takes place shortly after events in Deadpool 2. Whole thing will end up on my AO3 eventually.

Taglist: @emma-frxst  @ra-ra-rasputiin  @holamor ​  @empressme-bitch  @marvel-is-perfection  @hazilyimagine ​ @marvel-forever-17 @rovvboat @angstybadboytrash ​ @whitewitchdown ​ @master-sass-blast ​ @mori-fandom @mooleche @dandyqueen . Wanna be added or removed? Holla at me.

-------------------------------------

The first practice session with the lightbulb wasn’t a total bust, Rhonda swore to herself. She blew through a good chunk of the playlist, enjoyed a lot of the music, and had been able to make the bulb flicker with more regularity. Some of the flickers were even reasonably bright, but she couldn’t keep it steadily lit. If nothing else, the music kept her from getting too frustrated and smashing the bulb on the floor. Slipping it back in its box, Rhonda decided to call it a night before her husband came looking for her, hoping she could keep him from asking to see her progress.

Retracing their steps back toward the kitchen, Rhonda took in details about the house as if they were new--and some details were new. Old wallpaper had been replaced in some spots, mismatched but with the closest replica prints anyone could find. In some hall that had classrooms, Rhonda walked by a big glass case and had to stop. 

It was her. 

There was a large framed photo of her from her earliest days as official X-Men. It had been taken eleven or twelve years ago. Younger Rhonda was beaming proudly in her yellow uniform, striking a pose that was as noble and heroic as it was plain goofy. One hand was on her hip and the other straight over her head, blasting an arc of blue-green lightning, and one leg stretched in a high kick with pointed toes. Her hair was pulled back in a dyed blue-green ponytail--with bangs.

“They had to pick a picture with bangs, huh?” Rhonda muttered.

Neatly folded on a shelf under the photo was her spare uniform. The case was a memorial. The photo was flanked by plaques that told how Rhonda Reese Rasputin was “lost in the line of duty” and some poetic phrasing about knowing the cost of mutant safety and how important it is to be part of X-Men. Rhonda rolled her eyes. “Who wrote this? Fucking Scott?”

A few of her personal items were in the glass case--some black leather dance shoes, sketches Piotr had drawn of her, and a lot of photos of her with friends and students she tutored. Lots of smiles, lots of shenanigans. There was one from Halloween one year where Piotr had worn a long blonde wig, a pink dress, and carried Rhonda in a bag with a puppy ear headband and a black nose painted on her face. She remembered how hard she’d had to convince him to be Paris Hilton, and when he finally agreed, she used it as proof that he liked her and asked him on their first date. There was also one of her favorite photos from their wedding. They had their pieces of cake and Rhonda stretched on tiptoe to shove a piece in Piotr’s mouth. There was buttercream frosting smeared on half her face; Piotr had tried to give her too big a piece, and half of it had fallen right back onto the plate.

Rhonda chewed her lip, emotions surging, but hard to identify. Was she touched? Angry? Sick? Betrayed? She couldn’t even decide if she felt one emotion or everything at once. She blew a big huff and kept walking for the kitchen.

--

The next few days followed a pattern. Rhonda tried to be social, but sometimes someone would say or do something or move or stand in a certain way that made her lungs freeze, ready to fight. Then, humiliated, she would hide in her room, the gardens, or her practice room for a few hours. Every day, she spent time with that damn lightbulb, and every day didn’t quite get it to stay lit. At night, she would have some quiet time with Piotr in their bedroom before taking a sedative and fall into (hopefully) dreamless sleep. The times she skipped or forgot the sedative, she would wake up in a cold sweat, trying to fight Piotr until she remembered where she was. The bruises, scabs, and calluses faded, the dark circles under her eyes lifted, her coloring started coming back. She looked more like a person and less like some creature that hadn’t seen the sun in half a decade. But the general hardness in her expression remained.

Piotr did his best. He spoke with their closest friends and X-Men teammates and gave them a brief rundown of what she had been through, so she wouldn’t have to answer the same questions over and over. He laid down a few new rules:

If you’re a telepath, keep your mind a mile away from Rhonda’s. For the love of everything good, if you do read something in her mind, don’t comment on it.

Don’t startle her. She will fight.

Don’t ask about the tattoos or scars.

Don’t comment on how strong and gifted she used to be, or how she’s lost her gifts now.

These things seemed like common sense, but after the incident with Cable, and how Scott tried to push for a full debrief directly from Rhonda, Logan tried to crack a joke about her tattoos, and Kurt tried to prank her out of old habit, and nearly got a shiv in his gut for it, Piotr felt a need to establish some rules to make things easier on everyone. Also, no one knew when she made or started carrying a shiv around the house, or where she kept it on her person. 

A mission or two came up for the X-Men, but Colossus didn’t go. He felt it was still too soon to leave his wife for an indefinite length of time. So, they managed without him.

Of the veteran X-Men, Ororo was the most helpful. She and Rhonda were close friends, and used to train together all the time. With some persuading, Rhonda agreed to let Ororo work with her in the makeshift practice room, but she still wouldn’t set foot in the Danger Room.

“What is it, Rhon?” Ororo asked during a practice session. “Yesterday you were so close to having a steady light, and today it seems like you’re not focusing.” She kept a respectful distance, hands on her hips in a relaxed posture. 

Rhonda puffed out her cheeks in a sigh and turned the lightbulb over in her fingertips. She struggled to find words, “It’s just...I didn’t think about how hard it would be. Coming home.”

Ororo said nothing, patiently waiting for her friend to continue. 

“I didn’t even know how long I had been gone, and I come home and Piotr’s got a girlfriend and he seemed happy with her. And Ellie’s an adult now, and I just...is there even room for me in these people’s lives anymore?” She paced the room. “It’s just so messy and fucked up, should I not have come home?”

Frowning with concern, Ororo tilted her head and reached to touch Rhonda’s shoulder, “Oh, honey, you can’t think like that. Listen, nobody is happier to have you home than Piotr and Ellie. And me. You have to know that.”

Rhonda stared past the bulb in her hand at the floor. When she met Ororo’s eyes again, she said, “Come see.” With a beckoning twist of her hand, she led Ororo to the glass case that had the memorial.

They looked at it together, Rhonda taking in new details she had missed before. Near her dance shoes was her favorite hoodie she used to wear to warm up for dance. There were a handful of mix CDs--from back when people did that. One of the photos was of her and Ellie as a kid, when they had painted their nails black together. Rhonda clenched her jaw, grinding her teeth before saying quietly, “The other day, Piotr told me he will always regret that he gave up looking for me.” She tapped a fingernail on the glass at the photos of her early X-Men days. “But it wasn’t just Piotr. Everyone gave up on me. You all were picking out flowers and an empty casket to bury and what crappy pictures to put in this thing and I was--I fucking--” she huffed, then sniffed. “I fell for some shitty deals, is what I did. This inmate or that guard promised to get a message outside for me, and they didn’t, they were never going to.” Rhonda shook her head, voice dripping with venom. “I still fell for it every. Single. Time. Like a fucking idiot.” 

Ororo noticed the lightbulb in Rhonda’s hand as it hung at her side. It was glowing, and only getting brighter.

Rhonda read from one of the plaques, “The worst day on the job is when not everyone makes it home.” She rolled her eyes, “Please. Did Scott write this?”

“I did,” Ororo replied, hurt.

Rhonda slapped her free hand flat on the glass, mouth twitching. “I’m still living the worst day on the job! The one time I really needed the giant X on my chest to protect me--” she rapped her knuckles on the glass in front of her old uniform, her volume climbing “It didn’t. In fact, it made things worse.”

She raised her right hand, only now noticing the bulb was glowing bright enough to make Ororo squint. Pushing up her sleeve with her left hand, to show the Xs on her forearm, she shouted, “Do you see these fucking--”

The lightbulb shattered, sparks flying.

Ororo was quick to shield her face, but a few shards of the glass nicked Rhonda’s cheek, only narrowly missing her eyes. Blood beaded and trickled in thin rivulets from the nicks. They both froze, looking from the metal fitting in Rhonda’s hand to the tiny shards on the floor to the big framed photo with the lightning spiking from her extended hand. 

“You lit it,” Ororo said.

Rhonda tossed the fitting into the trash can across the hall, scowling when she returned to the case. “I want my stuff out of here.”

Brushing back her white hair, Ororo nodded, “I think I have keys.” On her big key ring of work keys, she found the one that opened this case and slid the front panel open. 

While Rhonda snatched her dance shoes, hoodie, Piotr’s sketches, CDs, and most of the photos, Ororo made a small whirlwind just powerful enough to pick up the shards of the lightbulb to bring them to the trash as well. Rhonda was right behind her with the plaques and framed photo.

It hurt to see her friend so angry, even though she knew it wasn’t just about the plaques Ororo had written. She stopped her before she could shove them into the trash with a vengeance, “Wait.” She held out her hands for the plaques, and Rhonda begrudgingly handed them over. When she raised the photo to dump it, Ororo said, “Piotr picked that picture. He said it was his favorite.” Her eyes welled up with tears. Cradling the plaques in one arm, she swiped away tears with her free hand. “He told me that was the day he knew he was in love with you.”

Rhonda lowered the photo and looked at it again. Those bangs were terrible, the hair dye wasn’t fresh, but the young woman in the photo was so excited to work on a team and make the world safer for mutants, and to do it alongside her best friend and the man she loved. That young woman was so sure of her purpose, and nobody could shake her from it. Rhonda’s throat closed up as she fought to not let any tears slip. She didn’t mean to rage at her best friend like this, or trash her friends’ well-meaning sentiment. She was just tired of feeling broken and weak. After a few long breaths, she handed the photo over to Ororo. 

“No one would fault you for being angry,” Ororo watched Rhonda gather her things, and her moment of hesitation before grabbing the uniform. “We were wrong. We messed up. That hurts. But we’re doing our best now.” She sniffed and wiped away another streak of tears.

Rhonda nodded slowly. She took the rest of the photos from parties and tucked all the flat things between her hoodie and the dance shoes. The glass case was empty except for a little dust and a few dead spiders. “I’m done with memorials.”

That much was loud and clear. “I’ll put these somewhere else,” Ororo nodded. “What about your face?”

It took Rhonda a minute to realize her face was bleeding from when the glass hit her. She rolled her eyes and shrugged, “What’s another scar?” 

“Clean it at least, please, Miss Rub-Some-Dirt-In-It.” They both chuckled, then an encouraging smile spread over her face. “Hey Rhonda? You lit the bulb.”

Rhonda beamed, glancing away and back to Ororo before whispering, “Yeah,” as if saying it aloud would jinx it. She hugged her things to her chest, and headed back to her room.

[sheeptiefstolemyheart]

Katabasis

A Mechanisms fanfiction based on the Ulysses Dies At Dawn album and the extra information on their website. A small crack idea about how the Persephone myth would turn out in that universe, and an excuse for writing morally grey characters. 

Warnings for: bad people doing fucked up things including mass murder, arson, and small mentions of incest and forced prostitution to fund a drug addiction. It’s the Mechanisms.

-

Persephone lives a life that many would call “confined to a golden cage”. That’s the ‘benefit’ of being an Olympian. An endless youth leads to an endless line of parties and dresses and friends and boring, boring days. It’s awful. The city far below churns and grinds and she lives and lives and her mother indulges her and her family continues to be awful. They fight and steal and kill and cling to civility by the skin of their teeth and it’s so tedious and awful. Until one day something - someone? a group of someones - arrives in the city. The first murmurings are of a few someones causing a mass bar brawl that turns into a massacre. The next is when Dionysis introduces his new therapist, a strange man who calls himself a Baron and wears clothes of a type Persephone swears are several hundred centuries old. The final is when someone takes control of the Acheron, calling themselves Hades. The “actual fucking Acheron who the fuck would do that who the fuck has that much power how the fuck did this happen” Zeus rants and raves in a family meeting, throwing his pad against the wall. Persephone ducks her head and looks at her fingers and thinks about her plants at home until Zeus is saying her name and everything else is quiet.

Her head shoots up. Everyone is looking at her. Her mother looks terrified and worried and Persephone can’t help stuttering in the face of her uncle’s cold gaze. “Y-Yes Uncle? I’m sorry…” She doesn’t want to say ‘I wasn’t listening to you’ but it gets through and across the table Hera snorts. There’s a brief flash of anger across Zeus’ face but he tempers it, surprisingly. “What would you say about getting married?” Persephone blinks dumbly and thinks about what they were just talking about. Slowly she connects the dots. “To Hades?” Zeus nods, like nodding to a child, and Persephone just shrugs. She doesn’t know where it comes from. Marriage was not what she expected this morning but it sounds exciting. Marriage to a new God sounds exciting. More exciting than her golden cage and the same day in and out. She nods properly and there is a look of honest surprise on Zeus’ face. He claps his hands together and grins at her wide as a shark. “So, that’s settled. My sweet niece will be sent to Hades as a wife and hopefully we will be in their good books and we can continue on without too much trouble.” The rest of the Olympians are chattering and whispering and giving her approving glances or surprised ones and Hera nods demurely to her. Persephone feels like an adult all of a sudden.

Zeus turns to leave and Demeter springs up to follow him, giving Persephone an incredulous look. “You can’t do this to her! She’s a child! You can’t just marry-” Zeus’ hand collides with her mother’s cheek and the room goes silent. Demeter doesn’t say a word, only cradles her cheek as Zeus moves past her and takes Persephone’s hands in his. His power is absolute. “I’m very proud of you Persephone my dear. You’re becoming a proper Olympian.” She nods shakily and tries not to hyperventilate. This is the closest he’s been to her in years. He’s terrifying. He moves away and Hera cups her face and smiles and then follows her husband. Other Olympians nod to her in passing, touch her shoulders or arms, murmur praise and reassurances, and then she’s alone with her mother who is looking at her with cold fury. Demeter leaves without a word and Persephone feels strangely proud. She’s been 19 for centuries. She has to grow up sometime.

As much as it’s her wedding, it doesn’t much concern her. Persephone stays in her room and looks at wedding gowns and talks about flowers and thinks about where she’s going to live, deep underground, and packs her plants up and tries to imagine what her new spouse will be like. Her mother and her uncle and her family arrange everything else. It turns out that there won’t be a wedding. Instead, she will simply go to live with Hades and then everything will be fine. Persephone suspects that none of them have actually confirmed the details with Hades themselves. So when the day comes and everything Persephone owns is packed up and put into a little shuttle it’s fair to say she’s more than a little nervous. Her mother hugs her tight and cries into her hair until she squirms away to save the nice makeup and hair job Hera had done for her, a nice treat considering hera hates her and her mother for the obvious reason. Zeus gives her a tight hug and as she is enveloped he whispers in her ear. “Don’t fuck this up. Don’t be stupid like your mother.” She looks him in the eye as she pulls away. Her mother thinks her a silly child. She is far more. “I’ll make you proud uncle.” She thinks she sees approval as he guides her to the shuttle but then he closes the door and the shuttle starts to move and she clutches her little purse with white knuckles. She can’t fuck this up.

The shuttle takes her down through the upper city first, then the decent roads of the lower city, then the ground opens up and she’s in the undercity. Further and further down she goes, staring out at areas she’s never seen. She’d never truly understood the true scale of the city. Soon they’re truly underground, nothing but LEDs to light their way, and she feels herself wilting. What has she done? After hours of travel they pull up in front of a club, red and black and sleek. She is helped out by the driver and greeted by a curious bouncer who scans her wrist code and frowns. They make a call then signal for her to wait and disappear into the doors, music trickling out from the open door. A high, mournful voice singing about the city. Persephone clutches her bag and waits, chills creeping up her spine. What time is it here? Even with the fluorescents it’s so dark and so cold. Eventually the bouncer returns and guides her in without another word, something like a smile on their face. They weave her through the bar through crowds of people, past a band, up a set of winding stairs at the back, and behind a red door. They go down a long red corridor and knock on a final red door at the end. The cheers and raucous shouting from behind it stop and a smoky, smooth voice calls out “Enter.” Persephone can barely catch her breath before the bouncer opens the door and propels her in. She stumbles as she gets her bearings as the door shuts silently behind her.

It’s a cards room. A huge table in the middle, a strange assortment of people clustered around it. There’s a woman with what look like wings, talking to a woman with a book whilst a nymph with a moustache listens curiously. Two men with goggles are trying to outdrink a man with a wild look in his lightning scarred eyes. Persephone thinks she sees the Baron there, talking to a lady in a military coat and a ponytail who looks bored shitless by him. At the head of the table sits Hades. She’s seen that face on video calls with her uncle. They stare at her with a curious look, raising one eyebrow as they shuffle a pack of cards. “Yes? What do you want?” For a second, Persephone can’t speak. She remembers the wrath of Zeus. She straightens up and looks Hades dead in the eyes. “I’m Persephone?” She’s not sure if it’s a question but Hades still looks confused. The Baron makes a happy noise and gets up to greet her, effusing a near insincere joy at seeing her. “Persephone! Little darling, how are you? What brings you down here, so far from your mother’s cage?” He takes her hands and kisses it and she curtseys the way she’s been taught, and behind them she hears a few fed up groans.

The Baron moves back to his seat, smug. He avoids the slap around the head that the woman with the ponytail moves to give him, and winks at Persephone. She knows that she blushes. From the head of the table Hades sighs, deep and long and tired. “Yes? You’re an Olympian, right? Zeus’…” “Niece.” The Baron fills in. Hades barely acknowledges him. “Why has Zeus sent his lovely niece all the way down here to see me?” After Persephone gets over the descriptor of “lovely”, she frowns. Oh dear. It hadn’t been confirmed. “I’m… Your wife?”

Her words hang in the air like bricks. She seems to have almost stunned them all. The man with the scarred eyes starts to laugh like a maniac and Hade’s arms shoots out. They smash the man’s face into the table and he lifts a finger in a swear, still cackling. The rest of the table are watching as well, a few of the women with their heads in their hands, the Baron staring at her curiously. Hades slowly opens their mouth and speaks. “My wife? What the…” Realisation seems to hit them. “You cannot be serious. I thought that was a- Fuck.” Perspehone nods shyly, trying to ignore how intently some of them are staring at her now. Hades sighs, finally removing their hand from the scarred man’s neck.

Persephone suddenly feels very, very small as the various people around the table assess her. Hades lifts their hands up in a placating manner. “I didn’t think he was serious.” The women with the book chips in, sarcasm colouring her voice. “So you just accidentally married a girl Ashes?” Hades glares at her and Persephone feels a chill up her spine. Ashes. Hades real name is Ashes. Hades scowls and looks at Persephone, at her pink dress and green hairpieces in this red underworld, and they point at the door. “Go home. I did not want this. Give my regards to your uncle and go.” They sit back down and focus on the cards, the others going back to their drinks and talks. Persephone cannot. She will not go home a failure. She will not suffer her uncle’s wrath. She walks over to the table and sits down in a chair. Slowly, the amused gazes of those around the table turn to her. “No.” Hades raises their head. Sighs. Places the cards deliberately down. “I’m sorry?” “No. I’m not leaving. I’m not going back to Zeus a failure.”

The Baron nods in understanding. “She’s right Ashes. That man will kill her for failing. He kills his own children like they are little bugs. Almost admirable but still very messy.” Around the table eyebrows are raised but Hades continues to stare at Persephone. Out of the corner of her eye, the mustachioed nymph offers her a drink. It gets a scolding from Hades but she still takes it. She sculls it down, makes a face at the burn, and slams the glass back on the table to approval from the group. The scarred man nods. “You could do worse.” Hades slaps him round the head. “You won’t go? I will make you leave.” “I’m not going. You know what my uncle will do to me, to my mother. I am not going to leave. You’re married now, hi. Congratulations.” Hades sucks a breath in. “This is not… This is not how marriage works. You know that right?”

“I’m not a child.” The laughter from around the table is sarcastic, and Persephone bristles. “I’m not!” “You’re how old? 19?” The winged woman asks, hiding a snort in her drink. “I’m 233, actually.” That tempers them a little but one of the men with the goggles still laughs, counting drunkenly on his fingers. “Not too bad. Been up in your golden cage though, all your life. What makes you think you could cut it down here?” The woman with the ponytail asks, something like recognition in her eyes. Persephone knows she has an answer to that. “Because I’m an Olympian. My family is a family of near-immortal fucked up shits who murder people indiscriminately. This entire city is just a playground for murderers and monsters and I’ve lived amongst them for 233 years ” She has everyone’s attention, especially Hades. Slowly they put down their cards and look at her, and she knows they’re seeing her in a new light. She was right. She knows exactly who these people are. They’re the chaos makers. Looking for trouble, looking to destroy. She wants that.

She looks Hades right in their eyes. “I don’t want to live up there anymore. I’ll do whatever you want but I want to live here. Not up there.” There’s a few giggles from the group but Hades keeps their eyes on her. They lay down their cards in a pattern she’s never seen before, and the scarred man drunkenly points at one. Hades doesn’t look away as they turn it over. Queen of Hearts. Hades frowns. “Okay. You,” they point to Persephone. “Leave the room. I need to talk with my crew.” The scarred man lifts his head, and as Persephone leaves the room she hears him say “Your crew? My crew you mean I’m the cap-” “Shut the fuck up Jonny.”

Persephone finds herself with her ear pressed against the door, trying to catch anything being said inside. The conversation swells in a raucous manner towards the end she catches snippets.

“She’s a child!” “233…” “Compared to any of us, that’s a child!” “She’s a posh little idiot.” “Like you when we met you Nastya?” “I will kill you Tim.” “She’s useful. Clever. Got that look about her. Not one of us, but she’s more than them.” “Something fun to play with Ashes? We don’t usually get to play with the mortals like this.” “She’s here now. Might as well see how useful she can be.”

Persephone has enough sense to dart backwards at the finality in Hades voice. The door swings open and the nymph is standing there, smiling very wide. “Please come in!” She follows it in, ready to fight to the death if Hades somehow decides to send her back by force. They are sitting at the head, shuffling cards as the other people - crew members - start to pack up. One by one they file out past Persephone, some ignoring her, some smiling, some giving her scrutinising looks. The scarred man, Jonny, slaps Ashes on the back and as he goes his eyes trace all over Persephone. It’s not perverted, more assessing, but she meets his eyes. In his eyes is the same maddened bloodlust as Zeus and it takes everything for Persephone not to flinch and look away. A smile quirks his lips and he closes the door with a slam as he leaves, leaving Persephone alone with her new partner.

A chair slides out next to Hades and Persephone takes the hint. Closer and closer she comes until she can see the now interested light in Hades eyes. She sits primly and tries not to feel terrified. This is the person who took control of the Acheron. Their friends have killed thousands of people, caused so much damage, hurt so many people. Something in her heart beats a little faster. She thinks it’s excitement. Hades sighs, and runs their hands through their hair, and looks at her expectantly. “I’m not happy about this, you know? But your uncle is right, this will help me work with him. I am not your… dream husband. I am not someone you want to be married to. I will not be your husband in anything more than name.” Something like relief loosens in Persephone’s chest. She’d never seen the point of uncle Dionysis’ drunken orgies, all that sex and those bodies. It was never for her. She shrugs, and they nod.

“You know I’m not a good person, right? Those people are my crew, my family. We kill people. We cause chaos. It’s what we were made for and I won’t be here long, just passing through, having fun. Understand the cards you’re being dealt?” Persephone looks them in the eye. “The city I live in runs on the tortured half-living brains of the dead. My uncle has killed every single one of his bastard commoner children so far save one, and that one he arranged the death of his entire family to keep him in debt. I had 17 different nannies because my father kept sleeping with them and his wife kept killing them. Oh yeah, my father is my uncle and everyone knows it but we don’t talk about it. I’m 233 years old because my family sucks the life force from children and uses it to live longer and longer. The person that discovered it, they set him up to kill his own father and marry his own mother. They had children together. Then they set it up for everyone to find out. I haven’t once gone against anything they have done. I’m not a good person either.” It’s the longest bad thing about her family she’s ever said. Hades raises an eyebrow and for the first time since they met, Persephone sees a smirk on their face. “Well. Let’s take you home then.”

Their mouth twists at the word home, but they do offer their arm to Persephone as they lead her out of the room and to the upper levels of the club. The apartment is nice. There’s two layers to it: the bottom layer which is Hades business area and leads into Hades Acheron offices, and the upper part of it where they live. It’s a sleek fancy apartment, with huge bedrooms and offices and when the club is in full swing Persephone can hear the music through the floors and the vents. Hades likes the club, and Persephone likes it as well. It’s a fun place to hang out. Her bedroom is nice as well, pull of plants that she keeps in perfect condition. The business area is more… Business. It’s where people come to ask Hades for favours, for forgiveness, for aid. She likes to sit on the sidelines sometimes, watch her spouse work, watch how they weave their plans and schemes, how they make people indebted to them. Gods, the city is a desperate heaving mess. One day she sits in on a meeting Hades is having with a person: tall, dark, broken. Like so many of them. She doesn’t pay much attention to their begging, but Hades takes an interest in them. As they leave they give her a look that pierces to her soul. That night she finds Hades and she lies down beside them in their bed, just to be close to someone.

Time carries steadily on. Her mother calls her. Zeus checks in occasionally. Persephone feels no need to return to the surface, to mingle with her family. She has far more interesting friends now. Hades friends, who call them Ashes, are a wild bunch. They all call themselves The Mechanisms, and Persephone suspects that’s not the name of their group. That’s what they are.  Murders and thieves, vagabonds and outlaws. Machines and humans. Not even human anymore. Something new. Something awful. Something hideous. They are incredible to know. She slowly finds her way into the outskirts of their little group, as Ashes wife. They mostly allow it because it gives them a chance to mock Ashes mercilessly. Jonny d’Ville, first mate (captain) and psychopath who thinks nothing of killing 36 men in a bar brawl. He takes her on one, and when they stumble out to the street soaked in other people’s blood Persephone thinks she understands why the city is the way it is. Killing is so exhilarating. Drumbot Brian is a fun night out. Give him a plan and a justification for it and he takes her through three city districts in a hijacked shuttle. She sticks her head from the roof window and screams sheer bloody delight. Gunpowder Tim shows her the beauty of weapons, from the simple pistol all the way up to his favourites. She takes out one of her uncle’s smaller clubs with five barrels of explosives and a lighter Ashes lent her, and they watch as it burns with ash on their faces. The smell of gunpowder in Persephone’s clothes for days after.

Raphaella is aloof but highly interested in Persephone’s mother’s business: poisons natural and unnatural. Persephone tells her everything she’s learnt at her mother’s side and lets Raphaella inject her with one of the scientists own concoctions. In the minutes before Ashes rescues her she writhes on the floor in blissful agony and she swears she sees and feels the entire universe through every nerve of her body that is on fire. Marius tends to her afterwards. He tells her everything going up in her family home, and she tells him everything about her life. He doesn’t even blink when she tells him about Zeus. He writes it all down and promises it’s for a good cause. She catches his talking to Ashes with the notebook out and she only grins. Nastya introduces her to the Aurora, their ship, her lover. She shows her around and Persephone looks at the way Nastya looks at the Aurora and feels overwhelmed. What a big thing. Nastya also teaches her how to sabotage any machinery she comes into contact with and how to hotwire shuttles. They go for drives around the city together. Ivy is always happy to learn. She picks Persephone’s brain when she hasn’t plugged herself straight into the Acheron like an addict with a needle. She hooks Persephone up once but it’s too much. Persephone wonders how empty Ivy’s mind has to be to keep all that information and not go crazy. The Toy Soldier, still a nymph, still mustachioed, shows her how to shoot like a soldier. It corrects her posture with an accent she’s never heard before, and offers her tea after every shot she gets right.

One game night Jonny makes a joke about her and Ashes and Persephone doesn’t hesitate when she pulls the nice new sidearm ashes helped her buy. She shoots Jonny through the throat and stands over him with the barrel at his head when he regenerates and looks up at her with wild delighted eyes. The Mechanisms applaud and cheer and toast her, and Persephone has never felt so proud of herself. When he pulls himself up Jonny grins wide and pours her an extra shot. She feels like she belongs. Then she catches Ashes looking at her with a frown on their face and she remembers that no, she doesn’t. She’s a fun past time, an entertainment. They’ll move on soon. Whenever they’ve caused the havoc they want they’ll up and go and Persephone won’t go with them. It’s not her ship to travel on. She’s not a Mechanism. She’s only married to one. Ashes still takes care of her. They teach her everything they know about business and gambling and people and tell her that they know she will make the right decisions in the future. Tells her that something big is coming but she can be ready.

A few months later it’s her cousin Heracles begging her partner for aid. Cousin, brother, whatever. He doesn’t notice her, thankfully. He would probably try and kill her, just to get revenge on their father. Again, he wants his freedom. Again, her spouse offers a different plan. Someone out there has a job, and Ashes is slowly funnelling people their way. She sips her drink and wonders. Finally it is Orpheus who comes to Ashes. Persphone loves Orpheus, loves his music and his voice and she’d been so happy to see him happy with his fiancee and not trapped in Dionysus club sleeping with rich women for lotus petals. It’s so sad to see him like this: chewed up and spat out by the city. She knows what he asks for is not a good idea. To take someone out of the Acheron means they don’t come back right but the poor thing is so desperate she pleads with Ashes from across the bar. They send him away, to that Job they won’t talk about, and she smiles sweetly at him.

A few weeks later Persephone wakes in the morning and the whole crew are in her kitchen talking. When she comes out they look at her with a wild hunger mirrored in every eye and Persephone knows something has happened. Something is going to happen. Something big. “You’re leaving.” She says to Ashes and Ashes nods. “What are you leaving behind?” Ashes tells her. Persephone doesn’t faint, although she does have to find a seat. She looks into the drink the Toy Soldier slides to her and knows that this is how it was always going to end. A city like this will only ever cannibalise itself. It just needs a little help. She finishes her drink in one and goes to pack up. She only takes what she can carry, what she can fit into the little shuttle that Nastya has adapted specially for her. Ashes hands her a chip and when she scans it she realises that it has every credit that has ever passed through the club. She gives them a smile and flips it just the way they taught her.

The Mechanisms leave one by one. Soon she’s alone with ashes and she can’t stop the way she feels scared. Like a child again. Ashes puts their hands on her shoulders and from their waistcoat they pull out a lighter. “Burn the motherfuckers.” She nods and puts it in her pocket and then they leave and she’s alone in the apartment. They didn’t need to be so nice to her. Maybe they’ll come back some time, see how she’s climbed over the bodies they’ve left behind. She sits and waits and waits and waits and then the power goes out. It’s happened. Somewhere deep below, the Mechanisms have set fire to the Acheron. The city is burning from the inside. She grins. The screaming starts not soon afterwards, and she makes her way to the shuttle. She flies her way up through the city, retraces the steps she took so long ago. She bursts into the surface where she can already see riots forming. She finds her way up to her uncle’s penthouse and when she lands on the private shuttlepad she sees her family clustered around her uncle, terror on all of their faces, begging for information and reassurances. Everything is falling apart. How good that she’s learnt how to keep stable footing.

All of them turn to watch her shuttle land, the only shuttle still flying. She opens the door and steps out, walks with all the confidence of someone who learnt how to fly from immortals. They watch her with open mouths as she pushes open the doors and walks through the parting crowd. Zeus hasn’t seen her yet and is ignoring Hera’s tugging on his suit, shouting at Dionysus about something or other, panic on his face. Persephone feels a thrill in her stomach. Her uncle had always prided himself on being hard to kill, but hard isn’t impossible. He forgot that sometimes those closest to you are the most dangerous. Persephone pulls out her gun and walks towards destiny.