#ignore that there's probably guns in the luggage over by the bed

[dcviated]

"Part with you? You think I'm letting go of you in any sense of the word right now? We're experiencing a full rubber band effect right now and, Sonia, I'm not snapping." A word and declaration enforced with the way his arm locks with hers. Posture straightens. Faces are brightened. That food had gone right where it needed to, for as much as he was able to eat.

It's doing wonders for his mood, both the quality of the meal and now the quality of the company. Not that the quality of the scenery is anything to shake a fist at. He can see himself with Sonia in so many of these locations at once. As part of the group of revelers. In a car passing through the streets. A private boat on the Seine. And now that they were together that could happen, couldn't it. Maybe not now. But another time. Next month. Next year. Next decade.

Fuck. Lets not get too far ahead of ourselves. We still need to survive the night, don't we? How does her expression fare when the jolly conversation begins to contrast the surroundings. The turns take them away from the spectacle and splendor and into more budget-y tourist-y areas of the City of Light.

Wylan of course, doesn't let his expression dim for a moment.

Oh poor Sonia, so taken by the moment she has perhaps forgotten the man she is so smitten with has a way with words. Embellishing them, that is. Not to be duplicitous but because it's funny. Surely one wouldn't believe a man here in the city originally to cut ties once and for all would have picked a place of luxury? He could have. But he didn't. She's probably realizing it given the paths the pair take.

And it's funny. He thinks this will be really funny once they walk up to the front and walk in with a simple key rather than a scan lock complete with glossy lobby and a kind gentleman to greet their return. Nope. None of that. But get this? Can a room get any more generic? Two whole beds with one of them unmade (how dare you Wylan to bring a girl back when its a mess). Bathroom around the corner. Nightstand bolted to the ground. Wall fixtures for lights. Oh but check out the tv. It's probably only fifteen years old!

"Home sweet home~!." He speaks into her ear, a playful grin on his features after ushering her inside by the hand. "At least for one more night. After that... well." She's a beacon of beauty, regality, and money in a place that looks ready to take it at a moment's notice. Don't open that little fridge, if you even touch a bottle of alcohol the card gets charged.

"Very exclusive location, as you could tell from our walk. It's invite only. And availability oh geez I had to make arrangements so far in advance. Like. See the window here-" He opens the tacky curtains with some effort, revealing... not much. Maybe some sun will get through in the morning. "And all this here. I'm not showing you up too much, am I? The intention's not to make you jealous. I just..." Hands slip around her waist, pulling the woman to him and closing the distance between their faces. There's many an emotion in his expression, and a light brighter than the dim fluorescent in his eyes.

"Wanted to impress you a little bit~" Yes, he does laugh after saying that tongue in cheek. Things can only go so far. "But, the cameras won't get us here. So... we can relax."

If she were to be honest, Sonia doubted anyone in the restaurant was terribly jealous of them. Not when they had their own appetites, or state of inebriation, to consider. It was one of the best parts of dining so late: most of the global smart set, those who would truly care about seeing the Princess of Novoselic out so late, was already either fast asleep or enjoying the city's nightlife from exclusive areas of various nightclubs or bars. But she wouldn't put a damper on Wylan's enthusiasm. Instead, she wove her fingers between his as they made their way to the exit.

"Would you believe me if I told you that paying in cash was partly for expediency, partly for secrecy?" She asked, her tone teasing as they pushed their way out through the double doors. If she'd paid with card, they would've needed to wait for the reader to be brought over, her card scanned, and signature given. That, in Sonia's opinion, was entirely too much time spent with her hand not clasped within his. Perhaps it was terribly sappy, but she'd spent the better part of the year without his company, yet with his presence still at the forefront of her mind no matter how much she'd tried to forget him.

A foolish endeavor. She was glad she'd failed each and every time she tried to banish him from her thoughts and her heart. Still, she did flinch at the mention of cameras: Wylan had a point, they'd already been terribly reckless on the streets. But it was a matter of principle, not embarrassment to be seen with him.

"It is not that I care about being seen with you," She sighed. Goodness, did all major European cities take after the Novoselic capital with excellent street camera coverage? At least at home, she had access to a map where all of the cameras were: a necessity if she were to avoid them whilst sneaking out. "It is simply that I should like to be the one to tell those close to me about us. I do not think it is right if my family found out due to street camera footage obtained by the press. I think they deserve a clear and concise conversation."

She gave his hand a small squeeze as they began to walk. Considering the disaster that had unfolded after Las Vegas (and the tiny, nearly invisible scar under her right eye she had to prove it), it seemed like the better option. But a daunting one, one that Sonia wasn't eager to face as it already was unfolding in her mind of how her family would respond (poorly, for the most part. Liam and Sam were practically polite in comparison).

Thankfully, the man she loved offered the possibility of distraction. Perhaps, she thought, that was one of the things she adored most about Wylan: the uncanny ability he had to bring a smile to her face even in the most tense of times, their hotel suite reunion notwithstanding. "I do not think it is the worst precedent to set," She beamed as they came to a stop on a corner, waiting for the light to change. Weekend revelers joined them, far too preoccupied with their own company and plans to pay them much mind. "Though I doubt spiriting me away will be a daily activity. My home and the Castle are vast, but there are only so many places we could hide before we are found."

A challenge? Perhaps, simply for the fact Sonia was well aware of how creative Wylan could be. For the meantime though, they had a few precious hours of night left until a new day began. A likely reckoning, something that would take even more fortitude than attending her ex's wedding and being given the surprise of her life after. But as they crossed the street, it occurred to her that they might not even be going the right direction towards wherever Wylan had decided to hide out in Paris.

"I do not mind the walk," She assured him as they approached the Seine. "Though I would imagine my jealousy would only emerge if we had to part now. Besides..."

Her hand left his in order to gently take his arm instead. Even if no one paid them any attention, there was a flirtatious nature to it: the physical closeness, the whispers, an opportunity to see his fun, rebellious side in play. And for once, it likely wouldn't be to exasperate or tease her: at least not in a way she didn't want. "It has been some time since you have snuck me in somewhere. We have time, and how the last excursion ended, to make up for. So, lead the way to the lovely view and mess we shall not be making."

The view? Likely stunning. The mess? Likely unavoidable, if all manner of restraint was cast aside. Both prospects had her heart beating a bit faster as she lightly pressed into his side: having left her coat at the hotel, she'd gotten chilly. And she'd never been so grateful to be so.

[tatooedlaura-blog]

Interim

set somewhere around Unrequited, that interim time when fighting fear in the daylight is one thing but battling it alone in the dark is another ...

Our Moment Chapter 1: Five Words (post-Leonard Betts) Chapter 2: Sidebar Nonsense (post-Memento Mori) Chapter 3: Interim (floating somewhere around Unrequited)

@today-in-fic

&&&&&&&&&&

It had been a longer case than normal, draining in every sense of the word: physically, mentally and emotionally, but they were almost there, he could feel it. Finally seeing a connection, everybody moved, organized chaos, Mulder and Scully amongst the throng of officers storming the building, guns out, ready for anything.

As with everything they ever did, it wasn’t easy. The suspect ran, hid, fired, threatened, ran again, fired some more, was finally taken down by one of the local cops but there was a foot chase first, that had them all running, searching, wishing his ass would just collapse and die in the middle of the street.

But it was done and sooner rather than later, they were de-briefing in the conference room, getting their paperwork in order. Looking around for Scully, to ask her what his writing said, he saw a glimpse of her back as she disappeared out the door. Usually she would have said something about going so, instead of letting her be, which she probably wished he would, he stood to follow, excusing himself from the talking crowd.

Scanning the front parking lot, he didn’t see her but deciding he might as well enjoy the unseasonable warmth of a Tennessee winter, he turned left, following the sidewalk around the building. Another turn left and he spotted her, sitting on the hood of their rental, facing away, small, hidden by a sea of police vehicles and employee parked Fords and Chryslers. He measurably widened his stride when he noticed her hand held up to her face.

He could see the blood dripping from between her fingers and down onto the pavement. Making it to her side, he pulled out one of several handkerchiefs he’d taken to carrying in his pockets and held it out to her, “take this.”

They had a routine, he helped, she let him.

It wasn’t long before the handkerchief saturated, Mulder touching her shoulder, “I’ll be back in a second with something else.” Seeing her nod, he ran back to the front door, asking calmly for some towels and getting them almost immediately, thanks to the helpful front desk officer and his mad organizational skills. Heading back Scully’s way, he was breathing heavy by the time she took his offering and dropped the soggy handkerchief to the ground. “Is it slowing down any?” Muffled ‘yes’ reached his ears but behind the wadded green towel obscuring half her face, he saw her skin sallow, white and translucent, veins beneath a blue map of fear. Now in front of her, he rested his hands on her thighs, leaning forward to kiss her forehead, smelling the iron tang of blood four inches below his nose, “do you want to go to the hospital?”

“Probably but I’d really rather just lay down for a few minutes, then get some orange juice or something, anything with some sugar in it.”

One last kiss and he pulled away, hand off thigh and up to towel, holding it for her so she could put her arms down, which she was grateful for. Every few seconds he’d move and check, finally finding the flow had slowed to a trickle, then finally stopped all together. Gently wiping away the smears from her chin, “I need maybe another half hour inside, then we can go or I can drop you at the hotel and come back.”

Desperately wanting a bed, she shook her head, “if you could just go find me something to eat, I’ll stay out here and wait for you.”

As he held her elbow, watched her slide from car to ground, “are you sure you don’t want a hospital?”

“I really don’t but thank you.”

“Fair enough.” Soon, she was settled in her seat, tilted back, coat near in case she got cold, “I’ll be back in a few. Don’t go anywhere.”

Eyes already shutting, “I won’t.”

&&&&&&&&&&

Tossing out the browning handkerchief, he carrying the clean towel he still had back to the station, having left the other with Scully. Handing it back to the officer, “thank you. I think we’ll need to keep the other one so if you’ll let me know what I owe you for it, I’d appreciate it.”

Shaking his head, “they’re just shop towels. We have boxes of them in the back.”

“Thank you.”

“Did you need any help out there? Something happen with your car?”

Another shake of his head, “no, we’re fine but thanks.”

Mulder then headed back towards the room of officers, finding the meeting over and the chief watching him approach, “everything all right? I saw your partner go, then you.”

Needing to be blunt because she wouldn’t be back in to help them finish, “I’d like to keep this quiet but Agent Scully has a medical condition that caused severe nosebleeds and she felt one coming on so she left. She’s out in the car now and I need to get her some juice first, then I’ll be back to finish up our end of the paperwork.”

Everyone had been cooperative, treating them well and even now, instead of irritation, the chief showed genuine concern, “is she alright now? Do you need to take her to the hospital?”

Looking around quickly, “she actually has cancer and the most the hospital could do would give her some juice and remind her that this kind of thing will happen.”

The chief liked the pair of them and crossing his arms, attentive, “is she getting treatment?”

Mulder really didn’t want to talk about this anymore, his mind divided between juice, Scully, paperwork, and Scully, “she is but with her type of tumor, surgery isn’t an option and the treatments aren’t doing much.” Needing to extract himself before he began sobbing in the large man’s arms, he inhaled slowly, “but we deal with it. Do you have anything I can take out for her?”

Having lost his wife to cancer several years ago, the chief recognized the look in Mulder’s eyes and knowing to end the conversation, he nodded, “come with me.”

Soon, Scully had her juice and crackers, Mulder returning inside yet again, this time determined to finish everything in under 30 minutes. As he watched Scully drink, he could see her color wasn’t returning as quickly as it should and the vacant look in her eye told him to hurry the hell up.

Thirty-four minutes later, he was shaking hands with the chief, accepting the man’s ‘good luck and God bless’ before leaving for the last time, opening the driver side door and driving off, his partner asleep in the seat beside him and even though he would never tell a soul, he actually checked to make sure she was breathing before anything else.

That action would haunt his sleepless nights for weeks to come.

She stirred once the car hit a pothole and looking up at his, blinking, “are you done?”

“Yeah. I’m going to pick us up some food first, then I’ll get you home.”

“I’d like a cheeseburger, if possible.”

Bag of food in hand 10 minutes later, Scully was nearly asleep again by the time they got to the hotel. Getting out of the car, she stumbled her way directly to her door, leaving behind bag, coat, shoes, and food. Smiling as he gathered their things, he followed her through her still open room door, shutting it with his foot, “do you want to change first or eat?”

“Eat, please.” Holding her hand out, “sorry. I didn’t even think to grab the bag. I just thought door and bed.”

“I’m keeping track. Once you get better, you’ll be my slave for a few weeks and we’ll call it even.” Saying it with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, he handed her a napkin, “you’re gonna need this.”

Dinner was quick, inhaled more than chewed, Scully unfocused as she chewed, her body exhausted, her mind slow enough to allow sleep if she could just lay down. Halfway through her second burger, she suddenly put it down, “I need to go to sleep.” Mulder tossed her the pajamas from the top of her luggage and after quick changing in the bathroom, door open, who cared, she crawled under the covers, apologizing as she went, “I’m sorry. I just … I need to lay down.”

“It’s fine.” Continuing to eat at the small table, “I’ll clean this up when I’m done and go back to my room but I’d like to leave the door between us open, if that’s all right? If you need anything, you can just yell for me.”

She was already halfway to dreaming but pretty sure she mumbled ‘okay’, she stopped caring, her muscles relaxing, finally, horizontal so much better than vertical.

Good to his word, he ate, cleaned up, covered her better with her blankets, kissed her twice on the forehead, then disappeared next door, opening the door between their rooms enough to hear her but not enough to disturb with the light of the TV.

&&&&&&&&&&

Her clock read 11:52pm when she woke up. Groggy math concluded she’d been asleep for about five hours and rolling over, she saw the adjoining door open as promised, faint light fluttering from some late-night B-movie Sci-Fi flick no doubt. She tried to go back to sleep, but a restlessness had settled, her mind beginning to churn with thoughts she didn’t want and emotions she didn’t need. Another glance at the clock told her she’d killed six minutes.

God-dammit.

Standing, she shuffled her way over to the adjoining door, pulling her side open more, then slowly pushing his, standing for a moment, watching him read the book propped on his vee’d knees. Leaning on the frame, bringing back a rush of memories from their first night together, years ago, running request submitted and denied in the middle of the Oregon wilderness, she cleared her throat, causing him to turn in her direction but not startle, which she would question at another time. Once he’d focused in on her in the darkness, she asked quietly, “want to go for a drive?”

He was having the same flashbacks and tilting his head at her, “you okay?”

“Can we just … I want to get out of here for awhile … ignore my brain …” head now against the frame, “I woke up and now … … … yeah.”

Tossing his book to one side, he stood, grabbing his wallet and keys, “let’s go.”

She loved that he didn’t ask anything, didn’t inquire, didn’t turn loose his psychology degree on her midnight suggestions, but instead, reached for her back and held the door.

“Any destination in mind?”

Settling into the passenger seat, shoes off, feet tucked under her, crisscross style, “anywhere but here.”

“Midnight wandering. Excellent.”

They drove in their typical silence, comfortable, comforting, depending on Scully’s frame of mind, for almost ten minutes before Mulder reached over, tapping her thigh, “how’s your head?”

“Attached.” Eyeing his hand, now dangling over the console, fingers still easily within tapping range, “nose is stuffy but the taste in the back of my throat is gone, so that’s something.”

Finger against her again, this time fingernail catching on the fuzzies of her flannel pants, “you scared me. A lot.”

Left hand shifting so she could stoke his knuckles, weaving in and around them in soft, satin fashion, “I’m sorry. I was doing fine. I felt fine until it just … happened.”

Hand finally moved enough to squeeze her knee, both shocked at his action and both wanting him to stay, “just … don’t do it again, okay?” Now he slid his hand over to wedge in at the bend behind her knee, “fingers are cold.”

They were most definitely not cold.

Another five in quiet, Mulder shifting to get more comfortable, left hand lightly on the wheel, right hand firmly on her and she returned to his knuckles, ventured to that little round nubbin’ bone in his wrist at times, until, “what will I have to do while I’m your slave? Are you going to make me clean your bathroom and feed your fish? Or will it be more of a Princess Leia thing? Gold bikini, ball and chain, looking hot in the corner when your friends come over?”

How he didn’t crash, he would never know, “do you own a gold bikini?��

“Like I’m going to answer that.”

Genuine grin out the windshield, “I think it’ll be more that I’ll make you watch movies with me and go play miniature golf and maybe, just maybe, I’ll force you to go to dinner with me.”

“Oh, the perils of slavedom in Mulderworld.” Resting her head back against the seat, “huh. Did you realize,” reaching her hand to the ceiling, pushing a panel back, “that we have a moonroof.”

Quick glance up, “I did not. I wonder if I paid extra for that.”

“The Bureau may have and I’m okay with that.” Studying the sky above, “I’m thinking that we should find a nice, quiet sideroad and turn the car off and open this up and see what there is to see.”

Giving her leg another squeeze, “I believe when I was sixteen, that was the line I used to get to second base.”

“I’ve always enjoyed baseball.”

He looked at her, face turned up still, smile faint but there, “how can you still shock me after all this time?”

“I’m amazing.”

Finding the sideroad and turning, “I’ve known that since the beginning.”

Her smile grew wider as he turned off the car, “you were weird at the beginning but intriguing enough to keep around.” Finally looking at him, “and I guess I’d use the word amazing … at times.”

Restarting the car just to get the roof open, he turned it off again, the sounds of night filling the car, “I’d like to talk about baseball again.”

Now she laughed, putting her seat back, “talk to me about the stars.”

Hating to do it, he removed his hand from her and matched her tilt back, scooting a little to the right so his head was near hanging off the rest, pretense of seeing out the roof better and all. She did the same and soon their forehead were almost touching, shoulders were. His hand missed her so it went searching again, this time finding her upper thigh, resting lightly, not allowing gravity to work in his favor, to pull him closer to third-base territory, “what do you want to hear about them?”

“Everything. Nothing. I just like to hear you talk, especially in the dark.”

Wondering if confessions were the name of the game tonight, “Sam once told me that she made a wish on every star, not just the shooting ones.”

“That’s an awful lot of wishes for an 8-year-old.”

“She had a lot of time on her hands apparently.”

Turning her head so she could kiss his nose, she returned to her side of the car quickly, “I wish I had that kind of time. I don’t think we’ve stopped long enough to have an actual conversation in months.”

Finally connecting his forehead to hers, “is that why we’re out here talking about stars?”

“Possibly.” Silence reigned again until Scully’s hand shot up, “shooting star!”

“Make your wish.”

Once she’d squinched her eyes shut, made her plea to the starry gods, she said, absently, into the shadows, “I know it won’t come true but I don’t think it hurts to ask.”

Twisting to his right side to face her, switching hands on her leg, quiet cursing that the console separating them dared to exist, “it never hurts to ask. I’ve been screaming the same wish for months. Someone’s bound to answer me, if for nothing else, just to shut me up.”

If she looked at him, in this instant, in this universe, she would fall apart, cracked pieces in his hands with no hope of re-assembly. Keeping her eyes on the sky, “my favorite constellation is the Southern Cross. You can only see in in the southern hemisphere but one day, I’m going to go to Australia and I’m going to sit there, on a beach, all night long, just to stare at it.”

“Whirlwind world tour?”

“I’d like that. I’ve got six other continents to see. Might have to start as soon as I can.”

“If I offer to provide breakfast and lunch, can I come?”

He watched her nod and smile in the starlight, “I never thought you wouldn’t.”  Catching his gaze at her out the corner of her eye, “you’re not looking at the stars anymore, Mr. Mulder.”

“I’ve got a better view down here on Earth, Miss Scully.”

Shaking her head, “the things you say sometimes.”

“Hey, I’ve slept in your bed. I’m allowed to call you ‘pretty’.”

Shifting to face him instead of the stars, she wondered if she dare share how much those nights still sat in the forefront of her mind, first before her diagnosis and second after he’d driven her home, taken care of her as she was sick, kept her warm as she came off her first round of chemo, “twice, actually, I’ve let you sleep in my bed.”

Moving his hand from her leg to run along her hairline, brief stop to rest his palm over her neck, “I think, someday, we should do that again, have a sleepover of epic proportions: scary movies, ice cream, pizza, and pillow fights. What do you say?”

Instead of the smile he’d been hoping for, he watched her face tighten, forehead wrinkle, nose flare, then contort back to normal Scully, just as her eyes filled with tears, which began falling immediately, “I’m scared.”

Sliding himself forward, hand still on her, he tugged gently at her neck until she moved towards him, “come here.” Meeting her lips for a brief moment, he went back in for another before resting forehead against hers, “I’m scared enough for both of us so maybe we should take turns. I’ll be scared Monday, Wednesday, Friday, and you can do Tuesday and Thursday.”

Wanting another kiss, she remained still, “what about the weekends?”

“We can share those. We’ll stay at your place one weekend then at mine the next. We’ll deal with it together. How’s that sound?”

Still crying, she almost laughed at the depth of the burden of solitude she didn’t know she carried until Mulder offered to carry it with her. Desperation nearly moved her to his mouth again but fighting it, she let out a wet, crackling sob before sighing, “thank you.”

“You’re not alone, I promise.”

Another shuddering breath out, she forced herself to back up, return to her own space, but found she couldn’t get far, Mulder’s hand still firmly on her neck, “Mulder.”

“I think we should talk about baseball again.”

Shutting her eyes against his searching look, she ignored the sudden tingling up her spine, “my head’s a mess right now. I don’t think I could separate ‘baseball’ from fear and I don’t want to ruin … it can’t be done like this. I’m sorry.”

She felt him pull away, then kiss her forehead lightly, talking into her skin, “you’ve got a dirty mind. I just wanted to discuss this year’s lineup for the Sox.”

Finally, she did laugh, gently bumping into his head with hers, “I’m more of a Cubs fan myself but talk away.”

“The Cubs? Really? What the hell is wrong with you?”

As they both separated, settled back into their own seats, Mulder’s hand back on her leg, “to be fair, that’s the first team I thought of.”

“Thank God. I thought I was going to have to rescind everything I just promised you. Although now, our Sunday fear sharing is going to be filled with baseball games, both live and from my couch.”

“I’d like that.” Silence between them filled with crickets chirping and frogs croaking, Scully reached down her leg to find his hand, lacing fingers together, pulling his knuckles to her mouth to kiss them, one by one, before, “I’d like that a lot and by the way, pretty sure you already rounded first.”

“Ahh, yes,” grinning upwards, “yes, I did.”

“Mulder.”

Her voice pulled him back from his amusement, “yeah?”

“I’m finally tired.”

With a chuckle, he looked over at her, “ready to go back?”

“No, but we probably should or we just sleep out here tonight and pray we don’t get eaten by bears or overzealous hunters.”

Mulder snapped his seat back up, “home it is.” It took twice as long to find the hotel because Mulder hadn’t paid attention as he was driving but eventually, they found their home away from home. Both were sleepy at this point and once inside Mulder’s room, Scully headed, heavy-lidded, to the adjoining door but stopped when Mulder spoke, “thanks for asking me to go for a drive.”

“Thanks for driving me.” Knuckling a knock on the door frame where she’d been leaning a few hours earlier, “it’s Friday now, right?”

“Yeah. My day to worry. Now go to bed before you fall down.”

With a nod and a smile, she disappeared into the darkness.

[peralta-guaranteed]

hc or ficlet of teddy proposing you amy again but this time jake decides enough is enough

(Read it on AO3)

“You’re probably wondering why I called you here.” Charles says in a deep, low voice.

“Are we not just having drinks?” Jake asks as he hands Rosa her beer and Charles his fruity rosé-tinted cocktail with a berry garnish.

“No! There are far more pressing matters at hand!”

Jake and Rosa clink their bottles together before the first sip, waiting for Charles to continue on his dramatic tangent, as he needs to do sometimes.

“Amy is going to a seminar in Staten Island next week.” He gives them both a deep stare.

“You might be surprised, bud, but I do know that.”

“Teddy is also going to that seminar.”

Jake stops mid-drink.

“I did not know that.”

“Neither does Amy.” Rosa cuts in. “Or she definitely woulda mentioned it.”

“He’s actually attended this seminar twice before, so I deduced that he’s not going for the learning material this time.” Charles leans back almost triumphantly.

“Yeah, it really doesn’t take a detective to figure that out.” Jake is trying to keep busy peeling the label off of his bottle, but Rosa can tell he’s clearly failing. There’s a furrow in his brow she’s rarely ever seen before.

“We have to stop him! He’s going to propose again, or do something romantic, or make a call-back to the seminar where they met, and Amy’s gonna get all confused-”

“My wife of four years and mother of my son is going to get confused by an unstable ex?” Jake’s voice is - bitter, Rosa thinks, is the best way to describe it, and she doesn’t think she’s ever heard that tone from him. Neither has Charles, it seems, because he backpedals immediately.

“Well, no, but- I mean- Amy is going to be upset- she’s been looking forward to that seminar and Teddy is going to ruin it!” He sputters, and Rosa can’t help but nod.

“And what do you suggest we do about that? We can’t keep Teddy from attending a work-thing, and I’m not going to stop Amy from going.”

“We can- we could kidnap Teddy just for the week, and then-”

“Kidnap a police officer.” Rosa interrupts again. “Because that’s gonna go over so well with the authorities.”

“Well then Jake can go to the seminar as well, and punch him out if he tries anything-”

“Yeah, because Holt’s totally not gonna be suspicious when Jake asks to go to a seminar that doesn’t involve some action training.” Rosa quips.

“I’m also not that big a fan of the idea of punching a man for, like, talking to my wife.” Jake grumbles, the label of his beer now completely gone, and only half-sounds convincing.

“It would be for love!” “It would be fucking creepy, is what it would be. Like I’m laying claim to some property or something in the most machismo-asshole way possible.”

“Yeah.” Rosa nods. “Amy’s a grown woman, she can tell him to fuck off herself, and she’s done it before. She doesn’t need us to bring chaos to her ‘fun’ little seminar.” She does sarcastic finger quotes around ‘fun’, but she also does know how much Amy is looking forward to this boring thing again - it’s her first time away from Mac on her own, and she’s planned her own trip just as meticulously as she’s planned for Jake’s stay with the kid, as if he has never taken care of his own child before, and kept her up to date on all of it in case she needs to jump in and help in any situation (which she won’t, but she might go over for a playdate anyway, just to see her godson).

Charles grumbles a bit more, something about ‘true love’ and ‘knights in shining armour’, but he drops the subject before their first round is finished and they can actually spend a nice evening together.

-*-

Rosa hands Jake a beer in return, once Charles has called it quits for the night because he has to go say goodnight to Nikolaj (Jake facetimed Amy and Mac instead and promised he’d be home soon, to which Amy rolled her eyes and said ‘Sure, babe. Tell Rosa to keep you out longer for some fun, please.’ the same way he had when Rosa had picked her up for a girls night two weeks ago).

“You okay?” She asks as she watches him peel the edge of the label almost immediately.

“Charles has really gotten into my head. I hate it when that happens.” He sighs as he lets go of the paper and drinks instead.

“Again: Amy’s a grown woman.”

“I know.” He’s fiddling with the label again after just one sip. “It’s just that all this Teddy-shit really does upset her. I mean, not in the ‘confused’ way like Charles said, which is bullshit.” The furrow is back for a second, Rosa notes. “But like… she just mulls it over in her head so much and it makes her feel like shit even if she won’t say it. I think the stunts he pulled at our wedding bothered her more than the whole thing actually being cancelled.”

Rosa nods as she takes her own first sip. She remembers Amy’s face when she realised Teddy was also at that stroller-contest thing she dragged her to. She remembers her face when they finally drove back to the precinct together too. She knows her friend, and if there’s anyone who knows her even better, it’s obviously Jake.

“So we gotta prevent that somehow.” She tries to continue the conversation without delving into Charles-level shenanigan-planning.

“”I just don’t want Amy’s first time off from Mac to suck because of some inconsiderate asshole. But I can’t exactly go along with her like Charles suggested, I have a kid to take care of, and also that idea is kinda insane.”

“Guess I gotta make sure it doesn’t suck, then.” Rosa finishes her beer and tries to ignore Jake’s gobsmacked stare at her. She doesn’t know when it happened, but at some point, apparently, she’s become willing to attend a boring seminar for Santiago.

-*-

Howzit goin

learn to write like an adult Peralta

also your wife will not stop talking about your kid

you love him

I do

but I don’t need updates on his bathing habits

no Teddy sightings yet but we’re also way too early because Amy. Keep you posted

Jake smiles at the text chain on his phone and makes a mental note to send her a picture of Mac in the tub later tonight, just to annoy her a bit more. Amy had handed the baby over to him at the precinct like she was going on a year-long world-cruise instead of just a five day overnight stay in another part of their own city, and Rosa had been standing behind her with her travel bag, rolling her eyes.

It had taken surprisingly little to convince both Amy and Holt that Rosa was actually interested enough in the seminar to join it at the last minute, and Amy had immediately included her in her itinerary, as well as offered to drive with her so she didn’t have to carry all her luggage on her motorcycle. Jake was going to owe her so, so many favours after all this.

The Mac-inna-tub picture only gets a grumbling emoji response, but she texts him again at around 9, when Mac is already fast asleep and he’s finally turned on Die Hard at the lowest possible volume to not wake him up again.

Teddy showed up

tried to say Hi (or worse) to Amy but I stared him away

going out for first day drinks with the group. I’ll keep him away. Maybe slip something into his drink.

why do I not question you having something to slip into drinks?

I can do more than just knives

don’t stay up all night watching all Die Hards. You gotta take Mac to daycare early tomorrow

Amy told me to tell you that

sure

and it’s only Die Hard 1 tonight

gonna spread them out over all the evenings

got one night left if you skip 4

The Holiday is on Netflix

you’re a good one Peralta

There’s no more updates until 11am the next morning, long after Mac has gone to daycare right on time, as he’s informed Amy via text to calm her down, and he was at the precinct only 15 minutes late this time.

Teddy pulled out the big guns

he had an actual ring this time. Looked expensive

There’s a sinking feeling in his chest, and he wonders what he should answer before his phone pings again.

I broke the ring

and the box

also his hand (‘accident’ - have to say that for liability)

anyway he’s out of the seminar now I guess because he can’t write anymore

so no need to worry

Jake tries to suppress his grin by biting his lip as he texts her back, Charles already getting a bit suspicious over him smiling at his phone constantly two desks over. He can probably explain it away by claiming he’s been messaging Amy, instead.

You’re my goddamn queen, Diaz

no

Amy is

but I definitely own your ass now too since I have to spend 4 more days in this shit place for you

There’s very few updates the rest of the week (apart from several pics of Amy either working, drinking, or lying hungover in bed in their shared hotel room - Rosa has resolved to make the whole boring thing a whole lot less boring, it seems) even as he keeps texting both ladies with Mac-updates and Mac-pictures.

Amy is all smiles and definitely not upset when they get back to the precinct and he’s already there to pick her up and hand the baby to his excited mama, and even Rosa spares a smile for the two Peralta-boys after the week she’s had.

He sidles up to her as Amy coos over her little boy giving her a hug and hello kisses.

“I really do owe you one, Rosa. Thanks.” “Dude, you owe me several.” She growls. “At least I won’t have to do that ever again. I’d say Teddy’s out of the picture now.”

“Because of one broken hand?”

“Yeah, I visited him in the hospital when he was getting his cast on. To ‘apologise’ for the injury.” Rosa grins, and even her sarcastic finger quotes seem intimidating. “Not even he’s that stupid to try and come back.”

Jake raises his fist, and Rosa reluctantly bumps it before both turn their attention back to Amy, who’s already chatting about weekend plans and offering Rosa a ride home. She takes the offer, if only to play peek-a-bo with Mac in the backseat.

[shoot-the-oneshot]

Counting the days: day 2

Series summary. You go to a friends bachelorette party in Italy and meet the man of your dreams, NOT, you didn’t see the part where you get kidnapped by a gangster on your friends itinerary. How will you handle being thrown into a life of guns and mafias.

Massimo Torricelli x Reader

Series masterlist

Run, that was the only word repeating in your head, run. So that’s what you did, while his back was turned you took off your now bare feet not making a sound. But as he said he would, he caught you before you even made it to the hallway. His large body pressing you into the column his hand gripping your throat.

“What did I just say? Maybe you do want me to chain you to bed.”

With him as close as he was you could feel a gun he had in his waistband digging painfully into your back. Oh how you wanted to grab it.

It would only take one shot and you could get away from him. But you knew how many men he had outside, they would be a bit harder to get through, so you kept still.

He kept you there as two people walked in. The older of the two speaking to your captor in Italian, you’ll keep the fact that you speak it hidden, could come in handy. So his name is Massimo, or at least that’s what the man called him.

“I have to go, Domenico will help you with anything you need.”

Massimo informs, pushing off you while you stayed against the bricks until the younger of the three men that you assume is Domenico, tells you to follow him back to your room.

For someone that didn’t want you escaping he gave you plenty of opportunities. You could definitely take Domenico, plus boss man was busy handling whatever he was doing. Or you could easily climb out the window. Just as you were about to do just that a gunshot made you freeze. It wasn’t aimed at you but you know what it meant when you deal with these kind of people.

Just play along is what you kept reminding yourself. He a tricked your family, your friends. He was obviously smart, but you hold his one weakness, you.

Everyone thinks the man is the one with the power, but the man answers to a woman.

We could rule the world once we realized that.

Making use of the gigantic shower, you’re sure your old bedroom would fit in here alone. When you turned off the shower head, and wrapped a towel around yourself stopping in your tracks when your eyes land on the fresh clothes set out. You can only hope it was a maid or something whoever it was got a very clear view of you.

Rubbing the soft fabric between your fingers, obviously it was one of Massimos dress shirts that probably cost more than your rent. Choosing that over your dress that was still dripping wet from your swim earlier you slide on the shirt. You’ll admit the man has good taste, it felt like silk flowing against your skin as you button it up, the bright white looking amazing with your new tan. You don’t even try to look for your phone, you know it’s not here. And you’d say you have been through enough today that you’ve earned a few hours sleep.

Waking up, forgetting where you were for a moment until you rolled over and saw the large shirtless italian shaped figure blocking the sunlight streaming through the window. slowly sitting up, holding the blankets closer to your body to act as a barrier betwen you both, not that a blanket would stop him.

''Would it kill you to put a shirt on?"

Your head is saying 'stop sassing him and play along' but your personality is saying 'make him so crazy he lets you go' so you'll do both. sass him when possible, go along when he gets to close to the edge. Should work perfectly.

Raising a thick eyebrow that you're almost jealous of at your words, if he thought you were going to wish him good morning and jump into his arms. his muscular, tan, tattooed dream worthy, No, stop thinking like that. No. but he was wrong if that's how he planned this going.

"Would it kill you to be polite to me for once?"

"It might."

Huffing out what almost sounded like a laugh he stood, easily towering over you. his dark eyes focused only on you. its easy to see why he could be intimidating, if you didn't have the cocky attitude going on you're sure you would be one of those people.

"Get dressed we need to buy some things before we depart."

pretty mafia boy say what? Quickly standing in a poor atempt to match his height only coming up mid chest, not exactly what you were going for and judging by the amused look in his eyes he knew that fact to.

"I'm not going anywhere unless its back to the hotel."

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

Litterly staring death in the face you think back to last night, when you acted out before he sent you back to the room, maybe this time will be the same. putting both hands on his chest and pushing as strongly as you could. only moving him back an inch, he grabs your wrist tightly, throwing you onto the bed following after you, wrestling your hand free landing a solid punch to his cheek. freezing as his head snaps to the side with the force of the hit. slowly meeting your eyes once again his lip pulled up in a snarl, showing his disaproval at the action. roughly pinning your hands to the bed, hovering above you.

"Just as i think you wont do anything stupid you prove me wrong."

"I'll prove you wrong again if you think i'm going anywhere with you!"

Staring hard he abruptly pushes off you and a few feet away, taking a deep breath as to calm himself.

"We are leaving in an hour, ready or not you're coming"

When he left is when you noticed your luggage stacked against the wall. Looking through your clothes, if you didn’t go shopping you would be very underdressed next to him who dresses to the nines all the time. So you throw on the most appealing outfit glad that you decided to bring something fancy if for no other reason just for a photoshoot at the resort.

Walking the steet of Italy again felt amazing, if only you weren’t shadowed by a mafia boss and two huge bodyguards. But not having to pay for the ridiculously priced clothes or carry your bags was nice. Part of you was happy he wasn’t watching you, just tapping away on his phone, but on the other hand, you looked amazing and was hoping to flaunt what he was so desperate to have.

But of course the second you went to the lingerie store the phone was in his pocket. You knew it was him the second the changing room door opened.

“Oh that’s why there’s a lock.”

You sarcastically drawl, which he ignored choosing to scan your body clad in red.

“Get out!”

“Or what?”

Oh, so he’s playing cocky now. Licking his lips with his arms crossed looking way to relaxed while you were almost naked.

Strutting up to him, playing with his shirt collar.

“Or I’ll walk out like this where your back up out there can see.”

You might not have seen Massimo looking at you before, but you definitely saw the guards eyes on you a few times. And that was the right thing to say to piss him off because the next thing you know you’re backed against a mirror with an angry mobster holding your throat.

“This body is mine, I’m the only one to see it!”

Snarling in your face before leaving without letting you bark back at him. Oh if he though you were going to leave it at that then he wasn’t as smart as you thought.

Storming after him, throwing your clothes at his chest, he definitely wasn’t expecting that given his wide eyes which give you enough of a distraction that you can make it outside still wearing the red lingerie. Gaining mixed reactions, girls are shocked while men drool.

A large hand around your arm pulls you to a stop. Ruining your runway strut along the brick road like you were a Victoria secret model.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

“It’s my body I choose who sees it.”

Flashing an innocent smile while stepping back waving at your body. Successfully getting the twitch in his eye to go off, wrapping a large blazer around you pulling you behind him mumbling while you struggle to keep up in your heels. Bumping into his back when he suddenly stops.

“This will go a lot easier if you stop fighting me every chance you get.”

“I didn’t want this! Why would I make it easy for you?”

Sighing deep from his chest looking genuinely in pain and tired so you’ll give him a break and a chance.

“I want something normal to eat tonight make it French, we’ll start there.”

Hope you guys like this and the series! Me requested are still open.

Series tag list: @calirindo

[cali-holland]

Golden Bullets, Ch 2: License to Kill

Harrison Osterfield X Reader, James Bond!AU

Harrison Osterfield, Agent 007, was once the best MI6 agent around with the astounding reputation as a womanizer. Between illegal gold smuggling and black market trading of weapons, he finds himself deeper in his latest mission than intended, weaving himself into a web of the criminal organization, S.P.E.C.T.R.E.. At the center of it all is the one woman who’s never fallen for his charms- you, Agent 006, the best MI6 agent, the new assistant director of the program, and his new partner.

Word Count: 3300

Gif is not mine

Golden Bullets Masterlist

Masterlist   Harrison Osterfield Masterlist

Let me know if you want to be added to the series tag list

Warnings: sexual themes (literally a woman named Pussy), violence, death

Featured Song: Licence to Kill by Gladys Knight from Licence to Kill (1989)

 ~ “Got a licence to kill and you know I’m going straight for your heart”

~~~

“Touch the stereo one more time and I’ll shoot you in the dick.”

Your grumbling threat seemed to resonate with Harrison as he dropped his hand from reaching to change your music again. He let out a long sigh; this drive from the Monaco airport to the hotel felt like such a long one. He hated old music, and yet all you seemed to want to listen to in the car was Nancy Sinatra- it’s like you only knew songs from the 1960’s. If it wasn’t for the urgency of this mission and the fact that he was in such an incredible car, he probably would have jumped out by now.

“You are awfully fascinated with my dick.” Harrison stated, a small smirk playing on his lips. You adjusted your white retro sunglasses on your face, shaking your head at him.

“Hardly.” You scoffed, “It’s your biggest weakness, so it’s quite easy to threaten, especially when shooting your dick off means I can hurt that delicate ego of yours.”

“Ouch, darling, you might actually hurt me there.” He feigned offense at your words. “If my biggest weakness is my dick, then what’s yours, sweetheart?”

“How many times must I tell you not to call me darling or sweetheart or angel or doll or any other pet name that rolls off your tongue?” You replied, ignoring his question completely.

“Not enough, angel. It’s so easy to get you bothered by a simple pet name.”

“I’m an agent. I’m not your pet.”

“Ah, but according to the hotel room, you’re my wife, Y/N.” Harrison teased. He watched as your jaw clenched, hearing your real name fall from his mouth for the first time. “Did you think I wouldn’t know your real name? Don’t act like you didn’t do any digging on me.”

“I didn’t need to. All of MI6 knows how much of an arrogant ass you are.” You stated, pulling the car into the hotel’s parking lot. “Your list of women extends much farther than your list of kills.”

“I bet you’d love to be added to the first list.” He smirked, placing a hand on your knee. You glared at him as you removed his hand.

“In your dreams, Osterfield.” You said lowly before getting out of the car, smiling at the valet. Harrison exited the DB10 after you, straightening out his suit as he did so.

“Let me get the bags, love.” Harrison told you, opening the trunk of the car to get out all of the luggage, which most of it consisted of weapons and money from MI6. As the two of you stood in the lobby, waiting to check in to the new room, you cuddled into Harrison’s figure, wrapping a hand around his neck as you spoke quietly in his ear.

“You’ll be added to my list, too if you’re not more careful with that tongue.” You threatened, voice just above a whisper. Your perfectly manicured fingers traced over the breast pocket on his suit, and you felt his heart race under you. Your threat was a very real one, but Harrison couldn’t help the shiver that made its way down his spine at the sultriness of your voice. 

Still, he put on his charm as he looked at you in his arms. Just as smoothly as you had spoken, he answered, “I hope that’s your first list, Y/N.”

~~~

“Martini. Shaken, not stirred.” Harrison told the bartender at the Monte Carlo casino that night. He adjusted his suit jacket as he leaned against the bar, waiting on his drink.

Ever since you two arrived at the hotel, you managed to ignore his presence completely. The hotel room had two queen size beds, extravagantly decorated and fit for two of Britain’s best agents. You were an incredibly curious case to him, you were an enigma. Something about you made him want to know everything about you. He found your resistance to his flirtatious advances especially alluring. He was starting to understand how you were an infamous seductress- you put the womanizer himself to shame.

“If you’re going to drink while working, you might as well go for something better than a martini.” You stated, your voice echoing in the comms piece in his ear. Harrison smirked to himself a little.

“Finally joining the party, princess?” He joked as his drink arrived. Since your task tonight was to flirt your way into Sciarra’s world, you had decided it’d be best for you and Harrison to arrive alone, which meant he had to have a chauffeur in a BMW while you drove the Aston Martin.

“Why, yes, I am.” You replied. Harrison lifted his martini glass to his lips and he casually looked around the busy casino. His eyes instantly caught on your figure as you wore a floor-length silk dress. The red material clung to you in all the right places with a slit that ran up to your upper thigh; your cleavage on view just enough to keep him wondering where you hid your weapons. He already knew your sleek black stilettos were made of steel and, most likely, had knife compartments- one of Q’s specialities for non-technology based weapons. You smirked, seeing Harrison’s blue eyes scanning over your dress, and you turned to place a gamble on a game, giving him the optimal view of the backless feature of the dress, the cut out dipping dangerously low.

“I don’t think that dress is inconspicuous enough.” He said after a moment. He slowly sipped on his martini, his throat feeling dry as his eyes couldn’t leave your figure.

“As if I care about what you think of my dress.” You answered, “Besides, the plan is to get Sciarra alone. Just watch my back, and stay focused.”

“Trust me, with you looking like that, beautiful, I’ll have no problem watching your back.” It was his turn to smirk, as you gave him the side-eye across the casino.

“Keep it in your pants, Osterfield.”

Spotting Sciarra at a craps table, you casually made your way over. You stood opposite of him, peering at the table below you. You gently leaned against it, allowing for your dress to shift slightly- and just like that, Sciarra made his way over to you. M was right- he was nothing short of a sleazy adulterer.

“Give me a blow?” He asked, holding up the die to you. You smiled, blowing on them for good luck. His eyes stayed on you as he rolled the die, far more invested in you now than his gambling. “Do you play?”

“No, but I enjoy-” You paused, your eyes trailing him up and down, “the views much more than the game itself.”

Across the casino, Harrison got himself a second martini and stood from his seat. He made his way over to the craps table to watch the game in progress while still keeping an eye on you as you flirted with Sciarra. His fingers trailed along the glass, looking around the table. Almost every single man had eyes on you, but your eyes stayed firmly on Sciarra, giving him your undivided attention. Something twisted in Harrison as he watched Sciarra run a hand down your bare arm before resting the hand on your bare back and, by the looks of it, his hand was far too low for Harrison’s liking. And not only did he have to watch that, but also heard each word passed between you and Sciarra through the mic.

“Casinos really bring out the sleaziness of some men.” Harrison heard a velvety voice speak teasingly from behind him. His blue eyes left your figure, and he looked at the woman now standing beside him. You were definitely the most attractive woman here, but this woman was a close second in an incredibly fitting gold dress. Her blond hair framed her face perfectly and, with the casino lights in the room, it almost looked golden.

“Hope I’m not included in that.” He chuckled, watching as her eyes flickered between each of the men around the table before landing on him.

“I said some.” The woman said with a soft laugh, showing off her pearly white teeth. “I noticed you when you walked in. You came alone, and with no wedding ring print on your finger- you must be a good one.”

“You’re observant, miss-?” Harrison trailed off, waiting for her to introduce herself.

“My name is Pussy Galore.” She replied, and Harrison could’ve sworn he saw you hold back a snicker across the table.

“I must be dreaming.” He smirked.

“And you, handsome?” She asked, a hand trailing along the buttons of his white shirt. His eyes flickered over to you, seeing you and Sciarra move to a reserved table for drinks; you were close to getting him alone, and that meant you’d need Harrison’s help soon. You discreetly removed the mic from your ear, not wanting to hear Harrison talk to the other woman any longer.

“The name’s Osterfield. Harrison Osterfield.”

He continued to flirt with the gorgeous woman as the casino bustled on around them. Miss Galore, as he respectfully mentally referred to her, spoke up after a few minutes, “Excuse me while I go freshen up.”

Before he could say anything else to her, she left. His eyes wandered back over to you and he noticed how close Sciarra was to your side as the dealer talked to his henchman across the table, but you weren’t flirting; no, Harrison could see the familiar fear in your eyes, the fear of a gun being held against your skin.

Out of instinct, he reached for his gun in his suit jacket. His fingers came in contact with the cool metal, and he watched as you quickly slammed your heel into Sciarra’s foot, just as you had done to Harrison in the parking lot, and kicked up the table, smacking his henchman in the face with the hardwood. Harrison drew his gun as you snatched Sciarra’s. The two of you ducked for cover behind a couple of turned tables from his henchmen’s bullets. The crowd at the casino screamed, everyone running in their expensive suits and designer dresses out of the casino.

“We can’t let Sciarra get away.” You told Harrison.

“Yeah, working on it.” He replied, getting up from his spot to fight one of the other men since he was now out of bullets. But the other man was ridiculously built, definitely used for the muscle, and he easily flipped Harrison onto a table, shattering the wood as he groaned. Picking up a couple large pieces of wood, he did his best to fight the bigger man, even stabbing him the leg to gain a little leverage.

Meanwhile, you ripped off your shoes, activating the knife part of the stiletto. Expertly, you threw one at Sciarra as he tried to escape, pinning his arm to the wall with the knife caught on his suit sleeve. You threw your other stiletto at the bigger man fighting Harrison, the knife landing mere inches from your partner’s face and in the opponent’s heart.

“Thanks for the head’s up.” Harrison stated in disbelief that you had gotten that close to hitting him with a knife.

“I just saved you from ruining another table. Are you happy?” You questioned, shooting another guard down with the golden gun you stole from Sciarra.

Harrison dove into fighting with another henchman, and you watched as a couple of men led Sciarra from the scene. Before you could step out from behind your table, someone came up behind you, grabbing your hands in his, effectively making you drop your gun. You cursed your barefootedness, unable to get a good grip to fight the taller man. As you attempted to kick his legs, he swiftly grabbed your throat, and a bullet went whizzing by your head, hitting him dead in the eye. You looked over at Harrison while he went running for the casino door.

“You can give me shit for almost shooting you later. He’s getting away.” Harrison urged you. You abandoned your gun and chased after him, just mere steps behind him.

“No, no-“ You started to shout as Harrison jumped into the driver’s seat of the Aston Martin.

“C’mon, love, no time to argue.” He said, but he was grinning like a little kid. You groaned in frustration, getting into the passenger’s seat and the car took off, speeding after Sciarra’s car. Harrison kept his eyes trained on the black Jaguar while you dug through the glove compartment. You smiled, finding an extra mag in there.

“How are you going to shoot bullets without a gun? And why is that mag so small?” Harrison asked. You laughed, slipping a hand under the slit in your dress to your inner thigh and pulling out a small gun from your hidden thigh holster that fit the mag perfectly. It wasn’t the ideal place for you to hide it, but the dress was so revealing, you really had no other choice. His eyes went wide, and the car swerved a bit.

“What? Did you think I didn’t have a gun on me?” You quirked an eyebrow at him, loading the gun and cocking it proudly. You didn’t want to hide your gun there, but seeing Harrison momentarily flustered by it was definitely a plus.

“Have I ever told you I’ll do anything for a girl in a gun?” He smirked, recovering smoothly, and you rolled your eyes at him. 

“Well you’re pretty awful at following my orders, so I don’t believe you.” You replied, rolling down the window, “Keep her steady.”

“That’s the plan.” Harrison replied, keeping his focus on the car as you shot at Sciarra’s Jaguar. You would’ve hit the tire, but Harrison swerved the car and Sciarra’s men started to fire back at you two.

Cursing, you sat back in the car, rolling up the bulletproof window. You pressed a couple buttons on the center console, accessing the DB10’s machine gun controls. As Harrison attempted to dodge the oncoming cars and maneuver a way closer to the Jaguar, you aimed for the tires. 

“You’re an awful driver.” You stated, missing a couple shots from Harrison’s unsteady.

“I’d like to see you do better.” He chuckled, taking a sharp turn to follow the black car ahead. Finally on a straight, you took the shot, clipping the Jaguar’s tire and sending the car flipping. Harrison haphazardly pulled the DB10 to a stop beside the wrecked car. You kept your gun at the ready as he went to drag Sciarra out of the wreck. One of the surviving henchmen shot at you and, instinctively, you fired back while Harrison tugged the weak Sciarra from the car.

“Where’s Goldfinger?” Harrison questioned, holding up the dealer by his blood-spattered collar. You took the opportunity to look in the car quickly. Spotting a gold flash drive on the floor, you snatched it up and returned to your partner’s side.

“I don’t know!” Sciarra shouted, seething in anger.

“Osterfield, not here.” You said. He looked at you, his blue eyes instantly catching your warning look. The sirens in the distance told you cops were approaching and having Sciarra so vulnerable and out in the open like this would definitely entice the sniper, whoever she was.

“How do we get to Goldfinger? This?” Harrison lifted up Sciarra’s hand to draw attention to the flashy silver ring on his finger. You held your gun steady as your partner walked, more so dragged, Sciarra back to your car.

“I don’t know him. He just pays me in bullions whenever I ship him weapons. I’ve never met the guy!” Sciarra attempted to defend himself as you opened the car door. “He’s only trying to kill me because-“

A loud gunshot went off and Sciarra fell limp in Harrison’s hand, blood spattering as the sniper shot him in the head. You and Harrison quickly moved to get in the car.

“Fucking snipers.” Harrison grumbled, throwing open the driver door and hopping inside. You were just a moment too slow, the sniper clipping your left arm as you got into the car. You applied pressure to your arm, trying to remain calm until you got back to the hotel room, where you knew you had the supplies to dig out the bullet. It wasn’t the first time you’d been shot before, but that didn’t mean it hurt any less.

“Did you get shot?” Harrison almost sounded worried as he raced the DB10 down the street, trying to create an untraceable path back to the hotel.

“No, my left arm is just cold.” You sarcastically said. “Yes, I got shot.”

“You can’t walk through a hotel with a bullet hole.”

“I know, genius.” You rolled your eyes, and he pulled up to the hotel. It was nice that Q had made the car bulletproof or else there would be plenty of evidence of the car chase you both were just a part of. Before the valet could come out to retrieve the car, Harrison shook off his suit jacket and draped it around your shoulders.

“Thank you.” You said quietly, and the two of you got out of the car. You kept your hand underneath the jacket and over your wound, and Harrison wrapped an arm around your shoulder, acting like he was just being a good guy helping out the cold girl. 

Silently, you two made your way to the elevator, taking it up to your floor. Harrison held the hotel room door open for you, and you immediately went to the medical bag, fumbling through it to find the right supplies.

“Let me help.” He said, stepping beside you and helping you get out what Q so kindly named “the bullet hole kit” complete with the proper supplies for disinfecting and stitching. You sat on the bathroom counter as Harrison quietly worked on your arm.

“Ow!” You shouted, tensing while he tried to get the bullet out. “That hurts!”

“Stop moving, and it’ll hurt less.” He replied as if it was obvious. “Have you never been shot before?”

“Once. In the hip, but it was four years ago.” The room fell quiet as you waited for him to respond.

“I’ve never.” Harrison’s voice was just barely above a whisper. You inhaled a sharp breath as he finally removed the bullet. “What happened with yours?”

“I missed a

 shot.” You said, and Harrison stepped back to look at you fully. His eyes filled with an unreadable emotion for you, perhaps pity that the best agent had missed.

“Well, did you shoot the bastard back?” He asked, bringing out the wipes to clean the bullet-free wound.

“Yeah.” And there was the silence again. You knew he wanted to ask what happened, why you had missed the shot, but the question never came.

That comfortable silence, save for a few grunts of pain on your part, lasted until after Harrison had stitched up your arm. His fingers gently traced over the pained area, “There.”

It wasn’t until he raised his head, his eyes reaching yours, that you realized just how intimately close you two were. Your lips parted as you tried to steady your breathing, feeling his hand fall to yours. His fingers lightly tapping against your own. You cleared your throat, leaning back away from him, “I should get some rest.”

“Right.” Harrison stepped back away from you and turned to clean up the rest of the medical supplies. You got off the counter and left to grab a change of clothes from your suitcase.

“Bathroom’s free.” He announced, exiting the en suite bathroom with the medical bag. You quietly excused yourself to go get changed out of your fashionable red dress.

As you looked at your arm in the mirror, you let out a small sigh. That was definitely going to scar, but maybe it’d add to the seductress mystery.

~~~

General Tag List: @viagracex​ @theamazingtomholland​ @Hellomoveonby @heyitsshrez @harrisonosterfieldhazmyheart​ @joyleenl​ @t-o-m-holland​ @lonikje​ @sleepybesson​ @sunkisseddreamer​ 

Harrison Tag List: @Calhtlland @tomkindholland​ @where-art-thau-romeo​

Series Tag List: @quinjetboi @baby-haz @kickingn-ames @rougese7en @hollandsosterfield @nj01​ @it-is-rebel-owl-ma-dudes​

[laceymorganwrites]

Don´t call me kid, don´t call me baby

THIS CONTAINS SPOILERS FROM THE MANGA

Word count: 4,043

Pairing: Atsumu x fem!reader

Summary: You are the neighbor of infamous Atsumu Miya and manager of the Sendai Frogs (Former manager of Karasuno). You don´t really like him (reader is a bit of a tsundere) until you get a chance to know him. Maybe you were wrong about him all along?

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of sex (nothing explicit), Atsumu overthinking and being insecure

Fun facts: Atsumu and you wanted to go to the park for your date, but it rained, so you just went to his place, cooked together and watched Naruto

Mini playlist: Illicit affairs - Taylor Swift

                       Bloody Valentine - Machine Gun Kelly

                        Friday I´m in love - The Cure

                         Rockstar - Call Me Karizma

                         Alphabet Boy - Melanie Martinez

                       Leave Me Alone - I Don´t Know How But They Found Me

Trying to squeeze your way through the masses at the airport always stressed you out, coming home was supposed to feel calm and relaxing, not like this.

You were only gone for a week, visiting friends and relatives abroad, but honestly you were excited to be back home.

It was stressful running errands and catching up on months upon months of information.

You only had this chance because the season just ended, but that only meant that the training would start again soon, now that you were home.

Volleyball and you were inseparable, ever since you could remember.

It all started with you watching it on TV and being fascinated, joining a club in middle school, then in high school, you even got the chance to be the manager of the Sendai Frogs, your current job.

Everything was going too well.

You only hoped that your apartment would still stand when you arrived there, maybe having the team look after it wasn´t the best decision. Maybe Tsukishima was able to smack some sense into the others.

“(Y/N)-senpai?!” Hinata called out to you, he thought he was only imagining things, but when you turned around to meet his eyes, he smiled brightly and ran to you.

He just came back from Brazil and you were equally surprised as him, sure all of you stayed in contact, but both of you and Nishinoya being abroad, the rest of the team being in college or working already complicated meeting up.

Yet it was nice that you texted each other, you even followed some of the careers of your former club as far as it was possible.

And Hinata made sure to text as often as possible, even announcing to you that upon his arrival he´d want to attend the tryouts of the Black Jackals.

“Hinata! You´re back already? Is it already the third?” you thought to yourself, to you it felt as if he just left, to you he was still the little bundle of joy that changed everything.

“You sure grew up a lot! You´re much taller than before… I can´t believe it´s been three years already!” you mustered him, noticing how mature he was now, still to you he´d always be the same he was in high school.

“Brazil was amazing! I learned a lot, beach volleyball is super hard! And you won´t believe who I met” he started as you two walked out of the airport together, you listened attentively as he told you all about his stay abroad, you had a smile on your face the whole time.

He has come so far.

“I can´t believe you ran into Oikawa at some random beach, what are the chances?” you giggled, picking up your luggage with him and leaving the airport.

You talked a bit more until you had to part ways.

“Good luck with the tryouts!” you called after him and he gave you a thumbs up before he grabbed a taxi.

You had the luck to be picked up by the team´s coach and discussed the next season and games in the car.

“Training starts tomorrow again, but you don´t need to do anything today. We don´t have any set games yet, so we´re just gonna commence normal training tomorrow and you can make some calls after and see who´s free for a game” he instructed and you nodded.

It was good being in the flow of things again, somehow being home and working was more relaxing than being with your family and friends.

When you arrived home, the coach helped you with your luggage which you were grateful for.

Luckily everything in your apartment was as you left it, probably thanks to Tsukishima.

After saying goodbye to the coach you were on your way to put the last piece of luggage into your apartment, though you wished you were already inside when the events unfolded before your eyes.

“You´re an asshole, Atsumu!” some girl yelled and you had to suppress a chuckle.

Being neighbors with Atsumu Miya wasn´t as annoying as you thought it would be, he was never at home.

And still he was just like the asshole you imagined him to be, just like the cocky prick he painted himself as.

But he was quite entertaining as a neighbor, you had to admit. Every now and then angry women would leave his apartment, yelling at him, accusing him of the most ridiculous things. And it always made you laugh.

“Come on, Sarah! It wasn´t that bad… give me some credit” he called after her, but she only huffed and turned around bashfully.

“My name´s Nicole!” she shrieked and stomped out of the door.

You eyed the two, leaning in your doorway.

Atsumu sighed, this wasn´t the first time this has happened. Not only was he bad in bed apparently, though he didn´t see the problem in cumming fast when she initially just wanted to blow him, but he was also the biggest asshole on the planet.

No wonder he couldn´t get anyone to stay.

“Ouch. Forgetting her name? That´s low, even for you, Miya” you commented with a bitter undertone.

At least he had the decency to look somewhat guilty.

“You think I don´t know that?” he mumbled, making you raise an eyebrow. Usually he´d make some shitty remark about how he had so many girls, he couldn´t possibly keep up with the names of them all.

“You know, it´s kinda her own fault for getting involved with you” you tried to comfort him, but obviously your words left more harm than intended.

You wanted to apologize, but before you could do that, Atsumu  gave you a knowing smile.

He seemed off today, but it was none of your business, so you didn´t press it.

“How was your vacation by the way?” he tried to change the subject.

You scrunched your nose, he always tried to pry into your life like that, you didn´t know why but it irked you.

“I don´t see how that´s any of your concern, Miya” you coldly told him off.

“Would it kill ya to call me by my first name?” he softly asked, scowling a bit.

The thing was, Atsumu had the biggest crush on you ever since he quite literally ran into you on your daily morning run. And when you moved in next door, he was over the moon.

But his reputation preceded him and you didn´t want to have anything to do with him, he couldn´t even blame you.

Yet every time he saw you, his heart raced more than when he spiked a volleyball, he couldn´t help smiling and you made his heart leap out of his chest.

It was stupid, he knew nothing would ever come of it and yet he couldn´t give up, he didn´t want to. He wanted to live in his little fantasy world where you actually looked his way.

“We´re not that close, Miya” you shot back, not wanting to admit that intimacy of that kind scared you.

You weren´t stupid, you noticed the thickened atmosphere between the two of you, but acknowledging even the slightest possibility of you opening your heart to him meant defeat to you.

Besides, you didn´t have time for relationships.

His heart sunk at your words, at the undeniable truth that hurt him so much more than he was ready to admit.

“Can I at least help you with your luggage?” he offered, sounding almost desperate.

“Suit yourself….” you mumbled. Usually you´d decline, but you just didn´t have the energy today.

You had to deal with the bickering of the team tomorrow anyways, a little help wouldn´t hurt, would it?

Atsumu entered your apartment and asked you what he could do to help, you showed him around and together you unpacked your suitcases. He even stayed to clean your apartment with you.

When you showed your surprise that he somewhat knew what he was doing he told you about his teammate who always got up on his ass about being dirty and messy.

You laughed at the way he pouted, telling the story.

“Hey are ya hungry? I can cook something up for ya” he asked, his eyes wide and hopeful.

He beamed at you when you agreed, showing him around the kitchen.

“Didn´t know you could cook…” you mumbled, watching him prepare the food.

You couldn´t believe you just agreed to have Atsumu Miya cook for you. You´d so regret that in the morning, you were getting weak…

“Yeah, my brother´s got an onigiri shop an´ I help out sometimes” he said nonchalantly, grabbing two plates and serving the food.

“Hm… I didn´t know that. You don´t seem like the type to do that.” you thought out loud, starting to eat and smiling delightfully at the taste. “Like you said, we´re not that close… I don´t really have the best relationship with my brother, but he´s still family, ya know?” he stated, digging in as well.

“Anyway, how´s the food? Do ya like it?” he asked excitedly and grinned widely when you nodded.

He helped you clean up the dishes before you two said goodbye.

“Thanks for the help… Atsumu…” you said through clenched teeth, looking sideways.

He looked at you perplexed, but over the moon.

“You called me by my name!” he exclaimed, smiling at you softly.

“Don´t let it get to your head” you told him before he went back to his own apartment.

The next few days passed rather quickly, your team was as chaotic as ever, you called a few of your friends and Hinata texted you that he made it into the team and asked you if you wanted to celebrate with him on the weekend.

You were free so you agreed.

What you didn´t expect was that he also invited the team.

You rolled your eyes as you saw Atsumu and Hinata come up to you, one more joyful than the other. “Congrats on making the team, Shoyo” you smiled at him, trying to ignore Atsumu´s knowing smirk.

Hinata must´ve told him something.

“Thanks! I can´t believe Atsumu-senpai´s finally tossing to me!” he smiled widely, it was nice knowing that he was still as full of energy as ever.

“What can I say? I keep my promises” he smugly answered.

“(Y/N)!” Bokuto called out to you, running up to you and joining in on the conversation.

“Kou!” you matched his energy and gave him a big hug, to which Atsumu looked away jealous.

“Have you met everyone already?” he asked, but before you could say anything he looked over at Atsumu who had a pleading look on his face.

He hoped Bokuto wouldn´t embarrass him too much after everyone found out about his crush on you.

It wasn´t even his fault, he never thought they´d figure it out. He always kept talking about his neighbor, and now that Hinata was there who knew about your annoying neighbor, all of that secrecy was for naught.

It was quite funny from the outside perspective.

In their first training with the newbie he talked nonstop about you and his old team, about his stay in Brazil and his dreams, Bokuto asked about you as well and asked Hinata if you still had that douche of a neighbor.

Atsumu only listened in on their conversation once you were name dropped.

He was shocked when Hinata nodded and asked if he was really that bad.

Bokuto said nothing to that, only shrugging his shoulders and letting him know that his attitude wasn´t for everyone.

“I think you´re great, Atsumu-senpai!” Hinata then let him know.

“Yeah, don´t let it get to your head!” Bokuto patted his back.

And now he wanted nothing more than to escape this situation.

“Ah, (Y/N), are you free next Wednesday?” Bokuto asked and Atsumu´s eyes went wide, he couldn´t be thinking of that, could he?

“Yeah, it´s our day off, but I have to make some calls. Why´re you asking?” you answered, something about Hinata´s and Bokuto´s behavior seemed suspicious, but you couldn´t put your finger on it.

It really threw you off.

“Do you maybe wanna watch our training and help a bit?” he asked, so it was true. Atsumu´s most dreaded and most wished dream would come true if you said yes.

Wished because it was you and he wanted nothing more than to impress you. Dreaded because he needed extra training to get used to the noise in the stadium. Which meant his teammates would make as much noise as possible and Bokuto would very loudly imitate his fangirls.

He already embarrassed himself in front of you enough on a daily basis.

“Yeah sure, just text me the time and I´ll be there” you agreed, it wasn´t every day you got the opportunity to watch such a great team.

Hinata and Bokuto left you two to talk to some of their friends from high school. You already talked to everyone and didn´t feel like staying much longer.

Atsumu felt kind of out of place, he wasn´t that good at social interaction despite being known as such a bright personality.

He gave up on taking someone home tonight, he really wasn´t in the mood.

And without his brother, his old friends from high school or his teammates who already left or were busy with someone else, he just felt lost.

“Hey, you know what Kou meant with me helping in your training?” you asked, it didn´t leave your head ever since he mentioned it.

“Promise me you won´t laugh?” Atsumu sighed, meeting your eyes.

“It´s you we´re talking about, of course I´m gonna laugh” you replied, smirking at him.

“Fair enough” he stated, facing you.

“I can´t play when it´s loud, my serves and spikes are always off when I hear those squealing pigs…” he mumbled, crossing his arms and pouting, looking way cuter than he should.

You couldn´t help but chuckle a bit.

“Squealing pigs? Seriously?” you raised an eyebrow, but couldn´t stop laughing as you imagined Atsumu glaring at them like he did in high school.

He was such an asshole back then, a good player, and just your type.

“What? They´re annoying….” he defended himself.

“Sure, but that still doesn´t explain how on earth I´m gonna help with that. Except I should cheer for you” you thought and scoffed when he met your eyes.

“In my defense it wasn´t my idea! And Bokuto does it too…. But it helps a lot actually… I just hope I´ll get my shit together until next game” he confessed.

“Oh trust me, I´ll give it my all” you giggled, you wouldn´t let an opportunity to make fun of him slip by so easily.

Atsumu and you talked for a bit longer, he told you a bit more about himself, and you, well, you gave in and did the same.

It was weird laughing with Atsumu, being by yourself at a party and still having more fun than everyone else.

And yet you didn´t want it to stop.

“Hey, you wanna grab a bite to eat?” he suggested with a hopeful glimmer in his eyes.

“Yeah, food sounds great right now” you gave him a smile which he reciprocated gladly.

You two said goodbye to everyone and Hinata and Bokuto both gave you knowing looks.

“So, where are we going?” you asked, for the first time actually interested in sparking a conversation with him.

“My brother´s place, it´s close and you said you wanted to go there sometime” he said, surprising you that he actually remembered.

The walk was nice, you talked a bit more and the cool night air was refreshing.

“If it ain´t my idiot brother, didn´t I tell you not to bring yer hoes to my shop? Don´t want my rep to be crushed...” Osamu scolded him and now you understood why Atsumu was always so reluctant to speak about him.

Apparently he didn´t lie when he said they parted ways on a bad note.

“She ain´t a hoe, ´Samu! Her name´s (Y/N) and she´s my neighbor. The one I told ya about” Atsumu explained and Osamu quickly apologized to you.

You simply shrugged it off though since it didn´t bother you that much.

“Ya must be some sort of angel with nerves of steel to be able to live next to such an idiot. If I was in your place, I woulda moved places a long time ago” Osamu remarked, getting your order ready.

“Oh you know, he´s not that bad” you admitted, slightly looking at Atsumu and catching him off guard.

“You really think so? Thanks, (Y/N)” he smiled and then sat down with you to eat.

Meanwhile he told you funny stories from his childhood while Osamu told you embarrassing things about Atsumu that made you laugh even harder.

Atsumu decided that the sound of your laugh was his new favorite.

He paid and you two walked home together.

You even hugged him goodbye as you had to part ways.

This night your touch and your words clouded and calmed Atsumu´s dreams and he woke up refreshed and in a good mood the next morning.

Wednesday came rather soon, now that you talked to him more and got to know him, time seemed to fly and you cursed yourself for being so prideful for all the wrong reasons, for your prejudices against him.

You entered the gym to Sakusa scolding Atsumu for fucking up his seventh serve, Hinata was praising and defending him and Bokuto was doing fuck knows what, yelling about how he wanted Atsumu´s children.

Atsumu was the first one to notice you, apologizing for the scene you just had to witness as he saw your appalled expression.

“Kou, what the actual fuck?!” you murmured as you greeted everyone.

“It´s part of the training! I´m one of his fangirls, they´re gonna be super loud and he has to get used to it” he explained, smiling widely.

You shook your head.

“So he has to get used to people wanting his children and calling him daddy? Alright… I´m not gonna do that” you decided.

“I think I´m just gonna watch a bit and cheer when I think it´s necessary” you said and sat down.

Everyone thought that Atsumu would be distracted by your presence, but the exact opposite was the case.

He was hyper focused, even though everybody was trying to distract him, he could shut that all out and focus on his play.

When he landed the first serve of the day, you were shocked to see how good he really was.

You couldn´t help yourself but cheer for him as well, though you didn´t yell out how much you wanted his children, rather you yelled how awesome he was, how you didn´t know that anybody could make a spike this hard and fast, how he was better than Kageyama.

The last one really pitched his ego and he dedicated his next serve to you, to which you rolled your eyes, but also blushed.

“Guys, honestly I think you´re gonna be fine on the game. Like, holy shit… all of you are so good! I´m so proud of you” you let them know after training was finished.

“Thanks, (Y/N)!” Hinata and Bokuto grinned.

“I´m still not good enough, you helped a lot, but it´s not enough...” Atsumu said, he was never happy with his performance, no matter what he always found something that didn´t go as he planned it.

“What do you mean not good enough? You´re easily the best setter in Japan right now” you stated as a matter of fact.

“Huh?” Atsumu questioned, thinking he had just imagined it, there was no way in hell you´d compliment him like that, cheer him up like that, and in such a way that leaves no room for objection.

“I mean it, Atsumu. You´re amazing. And if anyone tells you otherwise they´re either lying or just plain rude” you undermined your statement and he gave you a dreamy smile.

“You said my name again” he happily noticed.

“If that´s what it takes to make you know your own self worth then I´ll do it over and over again” you said, crossing your arms.

Hinata thought you looked like you did in high school. Like a mom, like someone who deeply cared, someone who could kick ass and someone who was one of the best managers he could´ve ever asked for.

Hell, Kiyoko, Yachi and you carried the team to the nationals, if it weren´t for you, Ukai and Takeada none of this would´ve been possible.

It was only now that he was an adult that he realized what all of that really meant and how grateful he was.

“I agree with (Y/N), Atsumu-senpai! You´re a great setter and you got even better, you train harder than anyone else and get better every day but it´s important that you take breaks” Hinata chimed in, he wasn´t part of the team for long, but has heard that Atsumu always overworked himself.

The team was scared that he´d hurt himself some day because of that.

“I can´t afford to take breaks, if I do I´ll fall behind. And if I fall behind I´ll get benched and if I get benched I´ll get kicked from the team and then all of this was for nothing” he rambled, looking distraught.

You let out a worried sigh and gently touched his arm, making him stop in his tracks and look at you.

“Do you really think they´re stupid enough to let such a great player go? And even more than that, do you think that anyone would let a great man like you go?” you softly spoke, touching his heart.

“Do you mean it?” he quietly asked, being in your presence calmed his mind down immediately.

“Of course I do. Look, when I first met you I thought you were the cockiest asshole to ever walk on earth. But you proved me wrong, because you´re so much more than you think. And I regret being so cold and distant to you, because honestly, I wish I´d got to know you sooner. But I´m stubborn and I didn´t. I can´t change the fact that it could´ve gone very differently, and neither can you. No matter how much you think about it, how you could´ve done things better, spiked this ball better, you can´t change it. All you can do is give it your all in the moment. And trust me, everything you do is more than enough, so don´t dwell on it. If you keep thinking like that, volleyball won´t be fun anymore. And that would just be sad” you opened up more than you intended to, but you thought it got the point across.

Atsumu said nothing for a while, still processing those words. Sure, he felt great hearing your praise, but what stuck to him was that you were actually glad to have met and know him.

And that was just the best feeling in the world to him.

“Will you come to our next game and cheer me on?” he asked hopefully, making you smile.

“Tell you what, I´ll even treat you to dinner afterwards. Sound like a good date to you?” you grinned.

“A date? You actually want to go on a date with me?” he had the goofiest, biggest smile on his face that made you feel all fuzzy and warm inside.

“A poor choice really” Sakusa commented.

“Hush! They´re having a moment!” Bokuto whined, he was very emotional and honestly relieved, Atsumu has been up their asses about dating you ever since you moved in next to him.

You groaned and dragged Atsumu outside with you, away from the others to have a little privacy.

“Maybe it wasn´t the best idea to ask you out in front of everyone…” you laughed it off and Atsumu joined in.

“I´m glad you did though. I wanted to ever since you moved in, but you know… didn´t think you´d be interested” he admitted.

“Me neither and yet here we are” you chuckled, not really knowing where to go from here.

You were pretty proud of yourself that you even managed to admit your feelings for him, give him a chance and then asked him out. It was totally worth it.

[foolishlovebugbaby]

ten-thousand miles gone

prologue

summary: they say time heals all wounds, but the one left by han jisung on your heart is one that you still treat tenderly. alternatively; han jisung reappears into your life like a whirlwind, knocking you off of your feet, after leaving you without a goodbye.

genre: angst

warnings: nothing triggering or rated

word count: 6k

note: in my head, the mind map of the way this particular fic ended went in so many directions, but this was very draining to write so i settled on the one that wouldn’t leave you hanging. 

been travelling these wide roads for so long my heart’s been far from you ten-thousand miles gone

In your younger years, life had always seemed to move gradually. Time seemed to be muffled by all the firsts and seconds that came and went like waves, distracting everyone from the reality of growing pains. But college certainly ripped off that bandaid, a cushion no longer supporting your fall into the harsh realities of life. 

Second semester of sophomore year had just ended, so now every college student across the country was making a beeline for the airports and bus stations, with tickets home clasped tightly between hands that were potentially developing carpal tunnel syndrome. Luckily for you, home was two train rides and a taxicab away. But like all your independent adventures of navigating life unhinged, no journey would be complete without twenty-something voicemails from your mother telling you to padlock your luggage and some vague, superstitious advice she read on Facebook. 

[To ma: yes, i didnt forget to pack your scarf and no, im not going to drink ginger and ginseng to ward off bad train spirits.]

[From ma: thank you. suit yourself , you will be bad spirit magnet !]

You chuckle and shove your phone into your pocket, hailing a cab with one hand while the other slings an abnormally large duffle bag over your shoulder. “North-Hill train station please.” You say to the cab driver and shove your luggage into the seat next to you. 

You let out a tired sigh and slump into the pleather seats. Butterflies swarmed your stomach- you always seemed to get them whenever you went back home. Back to the place of some of your greatest and worst memories. Somehow, through the years, the fear of seeing him again in that godforsaken town died down, because the thought of ever being able to see him again at all proved itself to be almost impossible. 

Even a fool knows this, you’re the best thing I’ve got…

You almost choke on your spit when that song comes on the radio. Of course that song had to come on so conveniently in the middle of your trip down melancholy lane. You have half a mind to reach over and turn the radio off, but decide against it when you see the cute old man bobbing his head to it. 

So instead your mind traces its steps back a few moments until all you’re reminded of is him. 

In your head you remember all these great experiences- graduation day, senior prom, camp nights during wintertime and summer carnivals down at the boardwalk. But then your mind tortures you and conjures up these images of what it would’ve been like to have experienced it all with him next to you and suddenly the memories become less fond. It’s treacherous, really, being your own worst enemy. But you learnt the hard way that time slows down for no one. 

When you get to the train station, you move in a daze. The muscle memory of validating your ticket and walking to the platform does all the work for you. And usually that would be a good thing, except now it only allowed you to stay in your head a lot more. It’s funny, really, how everytime you see posters and billboards of his group around you don’t flinch. Not anymore at least. Because you don’t know him anymore, and he’s probably forgotten about you.

Sometimes, you’re convinced he was just a character that your very active imagination conjured up to fill gaps in your life with meaning. But every time you open a picture of the pair of you way back when, you’re met with the reality that he was real. Even if it was just for a short amount of time, he was visible to you. Tangible. And meant galaxies to you. 

[From mama han: cant wait 2 see u back again ! have dinner with us soon xoxo] 

You smile fondly down at your phone once you’re situated in your seat, typing out a reply to the woman you consider a second mom. 

You thanked the universe for still keeping her in your life. Sure, her son would probably be known to you as the biggest jackass to exist for eternity, but she would remain sweet and tender in your heart for longer than that. 

[To mama han: can’t wait to see you too:)]

You don’t confirm your spot at their dinner table, because frankly speaking, the last time you stepped foot in their house was the summer before university when you went to drop off a box of jisung’s things that you found in your room- sweatshirts, t-shirt’s, notes and other miscellaneous items that demanded you remember every miniscule moment spent with him. And since then you’ve found every excuse not to go near that place. You knew it probably hurt the woman whenever you conjured up some arbitrary excuse to not dig in to her incredible cooking, but the finger is to be pointed at Han Jisung and Han Jisung only. Screw him. 

She sometimes tries to address the elephant in the room whenever you do get to talk during her visits at your childhood home. Like It would be great to have you both visit at the same time or Would you like me to call him? I’m sure he’s not busy right now. Yeah, subtle as a gun, but you love her still. 

You’re not one to believe in luck, and if you did you’d actually quite fancy yourself as the most unluckiest person of them all, but you thank the heavens that he’s never been back home the same time as you have. Either that, or you’re just way too good at being further than a 10-mile radius from him. Like last semester break, when you got word from one of your childhood friends that he would be in town so you decided to cancel all your plans of going back home under the guise of going on a group excursion somewhere up north. Obviously, all you did was stay in your dorm and binge watch Gossip Girl for three weeks, but you concluded that anything would be better than having to confront your demons- or demon. Singular.

What would you even say if you saw him? Realistically, not that much. Ideally, you’d destroy him with words. All that pent up anger for him leaving you behind and all the unresolved feelings left to concentrate in an urn you buried deep in yourself exploding like Pandora's box right before him. 5 years passed, and yet you still found it difficult to imagine what a conversation would be like with him again. 

Honestly, you’d tell him to stay a while longer, just so that he’d remain vivid in your memories once he decided to leave again. 

When the taxi cab pulled up in front of your childhood home, you were half asleep and in desperate need of a solid meal. “Thanks, keep the change,” you say groggily as you pass the money to the driver. 

You take a deep breath once you’re out of the car, your duffle bag slung around your frame. It’s been a very long time since you were last here. The months seemed to pile up without you noticing, and now that you think about it, it had been a good whole year that passed. You don’t know where the time went, but you were definitely here now. 

You trudge up to the door, ringing the bell once. “Hey ma,” You say as she squeals and pulls you in for a hug. “I’m glad you’re back in one piece, especially since you ignored my advice.” She says pointedly and ushers you in. “Yeah, well, I guess the train spirits didn’t feel like victimising me today.” She looks at you with her mouth hung open and slaps your arm. 

“Don’t say that!” She’s about to scold you more when your dad enters the living room in his pajama pants. “My daughter finally decides to show her face around here! Send in the doves!” You always knew that you got your flare for drama from your dad. 

“How are you doing sweetie, we missed you.” He gives you a big bear hug and you sigh. “I know, it’s been too long.” 

“There is not enough time in this world to mope around! Now, darling, it’s very late so your father and I are off to bed. There’s some leftovers for you in the toaster oven in case you get hungry,” They both smother you in a hug and you almost suffocate. “We’d love to hear all about your university in the morning. Sleep tight honey.” 

And so you’re left to your own devices. Again. Sighing, you reluctantly head up the stairs and make your way into your old room. A smile finds its place on your lips.

The room is oddly clean- you figured your mother must have emotionally cleaned in here (more than once) during your time away from home. But the walls are still the same ugly navy blue, and your star-print curtains remained planted in front of your windows with planet decorations all over the ceiling to match. Funny. He helped you decorate. Said it made your room feel like the universe was just the two of you.

You didn’t know that what he really meant was that you were his safe place.

You spend a good thirty-minutes unpacking, tinkering around your old room and texting your friends about your trip home. It feels like an eternity passed when you finally decide to listen to your growling stomach and go get something to eat. But you’re picky and nothing in your kitchen seems to entice you enough to devour it, so you swipe your house keys off the kitchen countertop and head to your door. 7-Eleven it is. You’re dressed in a pair of leggings and a pink sweater with fluffy slides to match, but you could care less.

As you walk out of your driveway and head down your street, you pass by his house. The lights are off (of course, since it’s an ungodly 1AM) and it practically looked like a dollhouse. 

You turn your gaze away. 

The walk to the local 7-Eleven is only 5 Hozier tracks away, so you reach there in no time. Your tummy growls when you enter, and you immediately head to the instant section. Hmm, ramen, tteokbokki or pasta, choices choices choices…

You’re too busy pondering to notice the figure clad in sweats and a baseball cap standing frozen at the end of the aisle, gaping like a fish your way. He practically isn’t breathing, but your presence had knocked the wind right out of his chest. 

“Y-Y/n?” He manages to breathe out, and you look around, confused. Did someone just say my name?

Your eyes slowly turn to his figure, and you can barely see who it is from afar. Tan skin can be seen from the collar under his hoodie, and dirty-blonde hair peeks out at the ends of his baseball cap. You feel like you’re seeing things, because you know that baseball cap. You bought it. 

Slowly, your eyes trail over his face, and you feel the air leave your lungs.

Jisung still remembers the last time he saw you. Well, the last time he saw you before he didn’t say goodbye. 

It was a Thursday afternoon, History class had just ended. On the way out, he caught a glimpse of you. He hadn’t seen much of you the entire week, but that was because he was actively trying to avoid you. But there you were, at your locker putting away your books with that puppy-dog expression you always wore whenever you were tired and in need of a good nap. He stood for a few moments, taking you in. Even if your hair was messily up in a bun with a hoodie two sizes too big drowning your frame, he still thought you looked like an absolute dream. He wanted to go up to you and ask you how was calculus? And when you pout and say boring, he would suggest you come over for some hot chocolate and a movie. And you would say yes, with a sleepy, lopsided smile, and his body would feel all warm and fuzzy at the sight of you.

But he doesn’t do any of that. Instead, he leaves his heart by the lockers, and with one last look, he walks away. His jacket does nothing to warm the cold that creeps its way up.

Had he known he wouldn’t get to see you one last time after that, he would’ve watched you for a few seconds longer. Had he known that you would fall sick and stay home from school the day before his flight, he would have told you to take better care of yourself. And had he known that the last time he’d see you would be when you’re drained and tired and down, he would have gone up to you to make you smile, one last time. 

He never stopped recreating pictures of you in his head, fearing the outlines of you would fade. 

Except now, as you stand a mere six feet away, he feels as though you stepped out of his mind and into his world once again. He can see you. You’re there. 

None of the pictures of you that he drew up in his head would ever compare to the way you looked right then. Beautiful, just as he remembered you.

Your name feels like a foreign language when it leaves his lips. 

The air is so thick between the pair of you that it makes everything around him slow down. He sees your eyes move from confusion, to shock, to utter fear and bewilderment, and then to pain. It feels as though a knife impaled his heart when he sees your eyes quiver.

He always loved your eyes. Dark brown, like freshly turned over earth, warmed by the sun. They look at him with sorrow now. 

Your arms drop to your sides and your lips quake, “J-Jisung?” God, he forgot what it was like to hear his name in your voice. He hates that it’s said with so much heartache. 

You run out without thinking twice. 

“Stop, slow down! W-wait!” You hear his voice call out for you, but you continue to run- where? You don’t know. You just wanted to get away. Your feet take you far down the sidewalk, lamp-posts your only source of light at this time of night. 

But you’re not fast enough, and for the first time in a long time, you feel his grip on your arm.

“Let go of me,” You say, your voice already breaking. He breaks with it.

“Y/N listen-” He pants out.

“No, let go of me!” You snatch your arm away from his grip. God, you’re furious. And hurt. And every other emotion there is to feel when you see the person who left you with nothing.

Your raised voice startles the two of you, and you both stand there for a moment, breathless. From running, from shock. 

He doesn’t say anything and just gapes at you, “Well?” You provoke pointedly. “What? Cat got your tongue?” 

“No ‘Hey y/n! How’ve you been? Long time no see since, you know, I abandoned you’.” You say harshly and the knife in his heart twists. 

“I know you’re hurt-” You cut him off.

“Hurt? Hurt? Hurt doesn’t even come close to what I feel, Jisung.” All the words you want to spew get caught in the back of your throat and you fight yourself to keep it together because you don’t want him to see you cry. You don’t want him to catch you vulnerable and raw, because you don’t know if you can trust him with that part of you again.

“Can we please just- can we please just talk?” He begs, and you scoff. “Please?” His eyes plead with you, and you frustratedly run a hand through your hair. 

“So talk.” You cross your arms over your chest and look at anywhere but him. He doesn’t say anything, and each time he tries to, all he does is end up biting his tongue. Where does he even begin?

“I’m sorry,” He croaks out, even though it’s the worst thing to say. 

“Great. All is forgiven.” You’re ruthless, but that’s only because he didn’t show any mercy when he left. 

He searches your eyes, not knowing what he could say to make things right. Or if that was even a possibility anymore. You both stand in silence for a while, and slowly your resolve breaks away.

“Why?” You say, your voice coarse and exhausted. “Why’d you do it? I tortured myself for months- no, years asking myself what I did wrong that caused you to leave me like that. What- was it something I said? Something I did? Please- tell me, I’m begging you,” You’re full-on sobbing now, tears flowing down your face like waves. They twinkle in the warm streetlights and he feels the ground beneath him crumble. The wound he left on your heart was ripped open again, and you couldn’t help but bleed in front of him. “P-please, Jisung. It’s been killing me for so long.” 

Tears leave his eyes, “It wasn’t your fault,” He says softly. 

“Then what was it? Because for all this time I broke myself down, questioning why you left like that. For so long I thought you were mad at me- I thought you became tired of me, bored of having me around. Do you know what that’s like? Tearing yourself apart to find answers you know you can’t answer by yourself?” “Shit, I thought you didn’t need me anymore. Which sucked, because I needed you.” You whisper through ragged breaths and he takes careful steps closer to you. 

“Of course I still needed you- I haven’t stopped needing you, y/n.” His voice is as broken as yours.

“Then why?” Your voice is barely above a whisper and you struggle so hard to not fall to the ground. 

“Do you know what it felt like to wake up one morning, clueless and thinking everything was fine, and then finding out that it was, in fact, not? Do you know what it was like to find out the person you cared for the most up and left you alone and with no explanation- not even a single goodbye? To be desperate to hear his voice again, and wonder to yourself why it was so easy for him to cut you off like that?” He stood right in front of you, so close that he could touch you. 

“I searched for you. I still looked for you in the hallways at school, hoping it was just one of your stupid pranks. I waited in my room for you to climb up to my window again and whisk me away to the park for one of our late-night walks. I called your phone for days, just in case you’d finally get annoyed and pick up. You never did. You never did,” You didn’t notice that your face was in his hands and that he tried so desperately to wipe your tears away, his own streaming down his face.

He sucked in a breath, “I left like that because I knew that I wouldn’t be able to get on that plane with you watching. That I would drop everything, all my stupid dreams, to stay in this stupid town for god knows how long with you. Leaving you was the most painful part,” 

“That day I found out I passed the audition- do you remember? You were so happy for me, more happy than I was. The only thing on my mind was the fact that I had to leave everything behind to chase after this dream- to chase after a dream that came true because of you. I wasn’t sure anymore. But you were so sure of me, so ready to see me attain everything we talked about, that the thought of all of that being in vain because of my cowardice ate me up inside. I thought that maybe if I could keep you at a distance- make you mad at me for ignoring you, have you hate me- that it would make it a little easier to let you go of me,” Your lips quiver.

“It wasn’t easy-”

“I know, I know that.” He rests his forehead against yours and squeezes his eyes shut as he hears your soft sobs. “It was so that I wouldn’t have a memory of leaving you behind in an airport. I wasn’t ready to have that image in my mind haunt me. I’ve regretted it everyday. You have to believe me when I say that.” 

“Then why didn’t you call back? Or even send a message?” Your eyes search his for answers as you pull your forehead away from his to get a clearer look.

“I thought you hated me. That you didn’t want anything to do with me anymore.” 

“Bullshit. You thought wrong.” Angrily, you push at his chest with closed fists and shut eyes, “You thought wrong,” You push him away until you’re no longer in his grip. “Let me go,” You whimper when he tries to reach for you again. “That doesn’t justify why you left me like that. I felt like I meant nothing to you for so long. You threw me away like I didn’t mean anything- made me feel like I was insignificant.”

“You meant everything to me!” He shouts out, shocking you into silence. “Don’t you see it?” When you only stare at him in confusion, he sucks in a breath. 

“The mere thought of leaving you was enough for me to think twice. Sitting with you in French class and giggling because we didn’t understand a word, spending so many nights with you in your ridiculous dinosaur onesie, getting to walk around aimlessly until 4am in this godforsaken town as if time wasn’t fleeting- I-,” He runs a hand over his face, frustratedly wiping his tears away. “I wasn’t ready for it to be over. I didn’t want to miss graduation, the day we looked forward to since grade school. I didn’t want to facetime you on prom night while you look so goddamn beautiful, knowing that someone else would be getting to slow dance with you. Knowing that I wouldn’t be there, that I would be missing out- that I would be missing you every goddamn day made me realise I wouldn’t be able to last without you.” 

“Selfishly ripping you apart from me felt like the only option. And it was so cruel, I know that. I’m the selfish asshole,” He takes exactly five steps to stand in front of you, and places a hand tenderly on your cheek. 

“I was selfish because I knew I couldn’t have you. I was in love with you, y/n. So fucking in love and you didn’t even know. And after all this time, I still am.” He says that last sentence in a whisper, and before you know it, his lips are on yours.

His mouth is so warm against yours, so tender, and yet they set your skin on fire. 

You pull away and take two steps back. 

“Y-you don’t get to kiss m-me like that, not again,” You say breathless. You’re reminded of sophomore year, and the kiss in his living room that made you feel weightless and lightheaded.

“Y/n-”

“I think we’ve talked enough for tonight,” Your heart hammers in your chest and the blood rushes to your face so fast that you swear you’re shivering. His eyes are illuminated by the streetlamps and you see them break right before you, defeated. Yours are no different. 

You walk away, choking back sobs.

He doesn’t try to stop you.

It’s 4PM when you decide to get out of bed. 

Your eyes are practically closed shut from your lack of sleep and you don’t bother to brush your hair, or undrape the blanket around your shoulders when you head downstairs. Your parents are sitting in the living room, oblivious and unassuming, but when they see you they almost go into cardiac arrest. 

“What’s wrong?” Your mother asks tentatively, extremely unsure as to why her daughter looked so abnormally disheveled. “Did you know he was going to be back in town?” You croak out, and she sighs. 

“So you saw him.” She states, and your dad pretends to read the newspaper. 

“Why didn’t you tell me ma, you know what happened-”

“Exactly; everyone knows what happened, and everyone knows how ruined you’ve both been because of it. But nothing’s going to change if you keep sweeping it under the rug. Honey, I know you’re hurting,” She rests a hand on your cheek and you close your eyes at the feeling. “But this is your chance to get closure.”

“What if I don’t want it anymore?”

“Oh that’s a load of cow dung. Look at you; you’re a mess.” Gee, thanks mom. 

She bites her lip and pauses for a second, “What if I told you that during your first year in college, the very first semester you were away, he came back? It was the autumn before things took off for him, and he showed up in town looking for you everywhere, not knowing you had left. I felt so bad, but you’re my daughter, and my first instinct was to protect you because I knew that for the first time in a long time, you were enjoying yourself. So I didn’t give him your new number, said your phone was broken, and he was absolutely heartbroken. I regret it slightly, but maybe this time you both can stop being constantly out of step.” 

Your mouth hung agape and your head spun. He looked for me?

“Don’t leave things like this, you need each other.” She gives you a squeeze, and you sigh. 

She was right. Years passed with so many things left unsaid, so much time gone. And as much as you hated to admit it, you were never going to get that time back. It would kill you knowing that you didn’t take the chance to fix things. You were already broken down to your bones, what’s left to chip away?

You uncoil yourself from your blanket and fling it onto the couch, groaning when you realise you’re going to have to face him again. The events that had elapsed last night were still hard to wrap your mind around, and you found yourself wondering if it ever did happen. You could already feel your heart pound at the thought of it. His words float in your mind ceaselessly; so much so that when you step out of your house, you almost miss the slumped figure on your sidewalk.

He gets up at the sound of your door closing. 

His hair was messy, pointing every which way, and the same clothes from earlier were now wrinkled and crimped. His eyes devastated you. They looked worn down and exhausted, much like yours did. 

“Walk with me?” He breathes out, and you nod. 

Seeing him in daylight is different. As you two walk, you become increasingly aware of exactly how much he’s grown. He used to be only a few centimeters taller than you, but now you only reach his chin. Barely. But his skin is the same golden tan and his cheeks remained full. You’re close enough that you can smell his scent- a scent you didn’t know you missed until now. But in retrospect, you just missed him. 

You both reach the small park in the middle of your neighborhood, and you find yourselves under the big oak tree that he had deemed our spot all those years ago. You look up into his eyes, and for a moment you remember what it’s like to feel home again.

“Do you remember the first time we found this place? You were always so terrible at hide and seek.” 

You find yourself smiling at the memory. He hid from you, behind this very tree, for so long that it had felt like you spent hours searching for him. When you finally did find him, you were angry and upset with him with red cheeks to match. 

“That’s only because you were always so good at hiding from me,” There’s ambiguity that you didn’t intend in that statement, which brings you both back to silence. 

After a while, you gather the courage to speak again. “So about that kiss-” He winces and scratches the back of his neck.

“I’m sorry for catching you off-guard like that last night-”

“I’m talking about the one on your birthday, sophomore year.” His lips squeeze into a tight line and his round eyes stare at you dumbfoundedly. 

“I-I always thought you never remembered that. You never brought it up, so I thought that it was just a mistake.” You fiddle with your fingers and gnaw at your bottom lip, feeling the heat creep to the back of your neck. 

“Y/n, it was never a mistake. I wanted to kiss you- and I did- because I was sick of being confused about my feelings for you.” You look back up at him, “I didn’t bring it up because I was too scared of scaring you away with it all.”

“Well you should’ve, so that I wouldn’t be so confused either.” His expression changes, and you didn’t think it was possible, but it becomes even more defeated than it was a few moments ago. He rubs his face with his face with his hands, leaning against the tree. 

He’s about to speak again, but your lips reach his before he gets the chance.

His soft cheeks rest in your hands as you taste him, soaking in the feeling of his warm lips against yours. This time, for the first time, the kiss lasts longer than a few seconds. 

The sensation sends shivers up your arms and down your spine. When he kisses you back, he kisses you with so much fervour that you’re worried you’ll pass out at the feeling. But his arms grip you tightly around your waist to keep you there, with him, firmly in place. Your mind is fuzzy and your heart beats erratically in your chest when he squeezes your waist. Craving him like this is new to you, and yet you can’t help but yearn for more. 

Where words failed you before, you make up for it in slow dances across his lips. 

“It was worth it, right?” Your question comes as a surprise to him. 

Earlier, when the sun had begun to set, the two of you decided that public parks were not exactly the most ideal place to have a heart-to-heart. So you walked back to his place, hands shoved in to the depths of your pockets, but your shoulders brushing against his with every step. 

The two of you laid face to face on his bed, pillow-width apart. 

“Leaving, yes. Hurting you, not at all.” He answers quietly, his hand drawing circles on the small of your back. 

Under his bedroom lights, you take his breath away. His eyes trace over your features, over every dip and bump of the outlines of your face and he hopes that this vision of you never leaves him. He takes in every mole and freckle on your face like it’s the first time he’s seen them, when the reality is that he always used to map out constellations on your cheeks while you slept. He’s afraid that if he blinks, you’ll vanish again, so he tries to keep his gaze steady on yours, unwavering and certain. The way he looks at you sends the butterflies in your stomach into a frenzy.

“I miss you,” You say, your voice meek and he feels his heart break all over again. “I miss you too.” You both speak in present-tense because even though he could touch you, see you, he knew it would take an indefinite amount of time for the pain of losing so many moments to heal. 

He pulls you into him, savouring the feeling of your embrace. Holding you makes him feel at home, and god knows he’s been away for so long. You nestle into the crook of his neck, and his hands rest under your sweater and on supple skin, willing your pain to go away. 

There are an infinite amount of things he wants to tell you, but he figures “I love you.” would suffice for now. 

Life never slowed down. As much as it felt like it had when you spent your days with him again, the days piled up one by one. And soon enough, time caught up. 

Soon enough, you would need to book your train ticket back to the city, because your three-week long semester break would draw to a close. He would have to book a plane ticket back to glitz and glamour, and the pair of you would wind up in the same dilemma that you were in five years ago. 

Only this time, he never leaves your side during your fleeting time together. This time, he tries to make up for all the lost moments within the span of three weeks. He doesn’t let go of any chance to be with you- to hold you, to touch you, to kiss you. He imprints the feeling of his skin on yours so that you never forget. So that he never forgets. Your eyes are cosmic in the moments that you share intimately, and he soaks up every inch of you so that he never forgets what it feels like to share the same breath. 

He listens to all your stories and all your bizarre adventures with a fond smile, because you tell them with such wonder that it makes him feel like he was there. Your voice is the only one he wants in his head. 

When he drops you off at the station, he doesn’t say goodbye. But not like last time; he doesn’t say goodbye because instead he says I’ll see you soon and Get there safely. When he watches the train pull away from the platform, he prays he sees it soon again because it carries his heart with him. 

He likes to imagine that you send him voice notes of your day and how frustrated you are with you OChem professor. That you send him pictures of yourself, and all the cute little cats you come across during your walks to class. That you send him long letters in the mail like the hopeless romantic that you are. In return, he would introduce you to his members- he knows you’d get along with Hyunjin the best, because you both would like to bitch about him while he’s still in the room. He likes the idea of facetiming you whenever you have the time, and getting to say he misses you, even if it’s only through a screen. He likes to imagine that in every lyric he writes, an essence of you treads in his words, because you’re his only muse. And he envisions the day when he’s finally back in the town where time slows, up in your room where the rest of the world crumbles away and your slates are clean once again. 

But for now he watches as the train becomes nothing but a speck in the distance, waiting for it all to play out.

[quadraphonictypewriter]

Rushing Whispers Part 13/?

Read from the beginning or Part 12

July 6 & 7, 1970 ((approx. 1950 words))

It was early evening when Cameron and I made our way to the bedroom. The English portion of the tour would start tomorrow, followed by our trip over the Channel to France. 

“Run it by me again,” I told Cameron as I changed into a pyjama top. 

“Well,” he accepted, “we’ve got a coach for the road, and should be in hotels most nights. I’d suppose that sometimes we’ll need to sleep on the bus, driving overnight to the next city.” 

“Doesn’t sound that bad.” 

Cameron took his shirt off and tossed it into the laundry basket. “It’s not,” he agreed. “But it will be more bearable this time, with you beside me.” 

A smile spread across my face but before I could kiss him, the phone in the hallway rang.

Cameron left the room and answered on the third ring. Too curious for my own good, I leaned against the bedroom door’s frame and watched him. 

“Evening, Geoff. You’ve got news?” Cameron spoke into the handset. He stretched, his waistband lowered a tad, and saw me watching him. He winked and gave me a sly smile, leaning against the wall. 

‘I wasn’t gonna, but too bad for him,’ I joked to myself. I smiled sweetly at Cameron as he answered whatever Geoff had asked. I walked up to him and put my hand on his waist, kissing his cheek in a swift movement. 

“We’ll be ready, then, it’s no issue,” Cameron told Geoff while smiling at me. 

I lowered my lips, bringing them to his neck. My hands felt warm on his waist and I gently pulled at the belt loops on his jeans. My kisses moved to his chest and soon moved to just above his navel. 

“What are you doing?” he whispered, his hand covering the mouthpiece of the phone. 

I knelt down while looking up at him. “Nothing,” I answered in a quiet voice. Cameron put his head back against the wall as I continued to bring my kisses lower. 

“Won’t be a problem, Geoff,” he said into the phone. I could hear the slightest quiver of his voice as he spoke. My hands unbuttoned his jeans and I lowered the zipper before tugging both layers of fabric down.  

I could hear the faint murmur of Geoff’s voice on the line, but I ignored it, instead giving quick kisses as I massaged with my hand. Cameron was responding very well to my actions; I gave a long lick and put my mouth on him. 

“Oh dear God,” Cameron gasped. I chuckled but didn’t stop my motions. “What? Oh, I’ve just...  stubbed my toe,” he told Geoff. 

A quick upwards glance showed me that Cameron’s hand was in his hair, and his eyes closed. I quickened my pace and heard him inhale sharply. 

“Geoff, I’ve got to go,” he said hurriedly. “Someone’s knocked at the door. Yes, we’ll be ready.” Cameron slammed the phone down and groaned loudly. “Have you lost your mind?” he cried out to me.

“Maybe,” I answered, only stopping for a moment. 

The breath that escaped his lips was heavy and quickly turned into a moan. His hands went to my head, gently touching my hair. It didn’t take long before he was nearly begging me to stop. 

“I don’t want to finish with you on your knees,” he gasped. I wiped my mouth with my hand and he pulled me back up to my feet. “You’d better be on the bed by the time I take these off,” he warned. 

I smirked, but didn’t take my eyes off of him. He removed his jeans and boxers before taking a step towards me. With every step he took, I retreated into the bedroom, my eyes still locked on him. He tossed the discarded clothes onto the floor. I took another step backwards and felt the bed behind me. 

“You’re not on the bed,” he noted with a straight face. “How unfortunate for you.” 

“I guess I’m not,” I replied. “Your move.”

I stopped counting after the third surge; it was clear that I had started something and Cameron was going to finish it. When we did stop, we laid beside each other holding hands. 

“You must have lost your mind,” Cameron said with a laugh. 

“Me?” I asked, mocking indignation. “I believe you were the one who said ‘oh dear God’ while on the phone with Geoff.” 

We both laughed. Cameron gave me a long kiss, pulling me on top of him. “Speaking of Geoff, he said they’ll be coming by around five to pick us up. We’re the last, then we’ll leave for Newcastle.” 

“Well, I guess we should get some sleep, then.” 

“Probably should,” he said before kissing me. “But all I want to do is eat.” 

I blushed, bringing my mouth close to his. “You’re still hungry?” I joked. 

“For you? Always.”

True to Geoff’s word, the coach pulled up to the driveway at five the next morning. Cameron and I had been ready since four-thirty, waiting on the steps. We had filled my large suitcase and two smaller ones with our clothes and toiletries, which Cameron put in the bus’ luggage compartment. 

We were greeted happily when we stepped onto the bus, even Willie didn’t seem so sour today. I put my purse on the seat beside Cameron, but before I could sit I was hastily motioned over by Sylvia, who clearly wanted to chat. 

The drive to Newcastle-upon-Tyne took a little less than five hours, during which I had spoken with Sylvia and Lee, and snuck in a nap with Cameron. We arrived at the venue just before ten o’clock, the road crew with their equipment-loaded bus having arrived an hour earlier. 

They were already hauling equipment into the club when our coach parked beside theirs. Lee and Clyde, with Sylvia in tow, had immediately gone to a nearby pub to meet with an old friend of theirs from a band they’d been in a few years previously. Geoff called Cameron and Willie to a mini-meeting by the stage, which left me with Dale. 

We sat at one of the club’s few tables and began to talk. I was surprised when one of the staff came up to us and asked if we wanted a hot drink; Dale asked for tea and I ordered a coffee.

“So, Dale,” I began, “what made you get into singing?”

“My sister,” he chuckled. “We were born in Bristol, but moved to Scotland when I was ten. She was five at the time, and so frightened most nights that I’d sing her to sleep. Once I realized I had a good voice, it was all over.” He punctuated his story with a laugh and I smiled. 

“That’s a beautiful thing you did for her,” I told him, thinking of my own sister. 

“It helped her, at least. She’s gone now, got married two years ago and moved to France.” 

“She got married young,” I noted. “How old are you?” 

“Twenty-five. And you?” 

I took a sip of my drink and answered. “Twenty-nine next month.” 

“You old broad,” he joked, clinking glasses with me.

After the conclusion of the mini-meeting with Geoff and Willie, Cameron had taken me to a few of the sights in Newcastle as I’d never seen England before. By the time we got back to the club in the early evening, soundcheck was just around the corner and both opening bands were in the backstage area. 

The club opened its doors at nine, with the lineup outside beginning nearly an hour earlier. The local act, Gun It, began their set at ten and didn’t sound too bad for a band that had just started out. While they played their thirty minute set, we mingled with the members of Riot Men, who would accompany us on the English tour this month and the Scottish dates in October. 

I was standing at the table covered in bottles at the far end of the room when someone tapped me on the shoulder. I turned around with a whiskey bottle still in my hand. 

“Hi, are you Emily?” The man asking looked to be in his early twenties and had a jovial look on his face. 

“Yes,” I answered. “You’re in Riot Men?” 

“Yes,” he announced proudly. “Reggie, the loyal drummer.” He extended his arm and I put down the bottle to shake his hand.

“Nice to meet you, Reggie. It’s a good thing, too, because I really didn’t want to smash this fifteen year over your head,” I laughed. 

“Fifteen year whiskey?” Reggie picked the bottle up from the table and took two glasses from a stack. “A dram for the lady?” 

“Thank you,” I said, accepting the glass. “Where in Wales are you from?” 

Reggie took a large sip from his glass, which had more whiskey than mine did, and chuckled. “Anglesey. And you? What part of Britain gives an accent like yours?” he quipped. 

“I’m from eastern Canada,” I explained. 

Reggie nodded. “Not in Nova Scotia, by any chance? My grandmother’s brother started his family there.” 

“A little more west than Nova Scotia. I used to live near Montreal.” 

He ran a hand through his hair and took another sip. “Where do you live now?” 

I mimicked him and took a sip of my drink as well. “With Cameron.” 

“Lucky man,” he said. Something caught his eye and he turned towards his bandmates. “We’re on shortly.” Reggie finished off his drink in one gulp and put the glass down on the table. “Very nice chatting with you, Emily.” 

“Same here,” I answered. Reggie took off towards the other end of the room and rejoined his bandmates, who were discussing something among themselves. 

I only had time to take a few more sips of my drink before Cameron strode over, announcing his arrival with his arm around my waist. 

“Hello,” I giggled happily. 

Cameron gave me a quick kiss in response. “I see you’ve met the Welshman.” 

“I did. He’s nice.” 

“He is,” Cameron agreed. “Their bass player, not so much. But Reggie’s a cool guy.” 

“Have they played with you before?” I asked curiously, leading us to a small table nearby. 

Cameron nodded. “They were with us for part of the tour last year. February and March, if I remember.”

Amoeba's set started at midnight, half an hour after Riot Men left the stage. I took my spot beside the stage, just as excited as everyone else for the first show of the tour. 

“Hey! How are you tonight?” Dale shouted excitedly once he was on stage. “Happy to be here, let’s get something going for you all…” 

The performance was a definite crowd-pleaser, though perhaps that is too mild of a term. The show ended with tables overturned and chairs everywhere, people everywhere. If this was a taste of what was to come, I was in for quite the experience. 

The band got off the stage and entered the dressing room, but not before Dale was groped and Lee was forcefully given a woman’s bra. He held it by the strap and stared at it, mouth gaping. 

“Your mouth’s only supposed to do that with tits, not just the bra,” Dale sneered. He took the bra from Lee and put it against his chest, parading around for a moment in full confidence. 

“Fuck. Off.” Willie had a look like glass shards when Dale pranced up to him and flirted. I cackled without restraint, making everyone else laugh with me. 

Cameron approached me and gave me a kiss, his hands framing my face. 

“A fantastic show, my love,” I assured him with a smile. “You nearly started a furor!”

--

Part 14

[cathrynkenobi11love]

A/N: I know these first few chapters probably feel dry and boring, but It's all important character development, I promise. They become important in the future.

I laid back in my chair in the hanger twirling a wrench around my finger. "R8, what does a Jedi padawan do when they are so bored they feel like sleeping would bring them enjoyment?" I asked and R8 beeped the answer 'sleep'. "Wow, your really helpful." I said sarcastically. "Hey, isn't that Anakin?" I ask, pointing at a speeder that has Anakin in it. "He's flying to the Senate building, but why?" I ask. "Your the one who's bored, maybe you should follow him." R8 beeped and I shook my head. "No way, I hate politics." I said and laid back. My comm clicked and I sighed. "Well, the council's calling. Yay for me!" I said sarcastically an headed to the Jedi temple.

I walked into the council room to see my master. "You called me master?" I asked. "Yes I did. Your bored, are you not?" He asked. "Uh, yes, I am." I said. "Good, I have a mission for you. With Anakin and Senator Amidala." He said and I put my hands up. "Oh no, I'm not getting involved in politics. I hate politics." I said. "Well, last I checked, I'm your master and it's my decision to make." Obi-Wan said and I sighed. "I hate you." I grumbled and left the room quickly, passing an angry looking Padme and Anakin on the way.

----- ----- -----

"I hate this, I really really hate this." I said as I fidgeted with my Naboo uniform. "You hate this too Anakin, right?" I ask him, but he seems distracted. "Anakin? Hello?" I said, waving a hand in front of him. "Alright don't talk to me." I said and sighed. In front of us, Padme and Senator Clovis come up and I try to look like a normal guard. Anakin, on the other hand, doesn't even try to do anything. "What is your problem!" I say and we walk onto the ship. As we lead the senators to their seats, Anakin runs forward and pulls down one of the seat rests. "Allow me my lady. Oh, and this ones, broken. Too bad." He said and I noted he broke the rest himself. I tilted my head then shrugged and walked away to the cockpit. I started to slip into the Pilot's seat but Anakin pushed me out of the way. "I drive." He said and sat down, clicking on the cameras to the senators. I groaned and slumped into my seat, sticking my tongue out as Clovis began to try and kiss Padme. I had to then grip the edge of my seat as Anakin jolted it to the side. "Anakin! What are you doing!" I yelled and glared at him. "Oops, sorry." He said and glared at the cameras. I looked from the cameras to him then smirked. "Oh, I get it. Someone's got a crush on the Senator." I said and he looked startled. "What? Of course not! I have no idea what your talking about Ashlynn." He said and turned back to the controls. "Okay." I said and smirked mischievously.

When we landed on Cato Neimoidia, Anakin, Padme and Clovis all rushed out and I sighed. "Are you kidding? I have to take care of the luggage on my own now? This day just keeps getting better and better." I said to myself and grabbed the bags. As I stumbled down the stairs of the ship I came to Anakin. "Hey, Anakin, can you take some of these-" He walked off, ignoring me. "Jerk." I mumbled and kept struggling to walk with the luggage.

The servants lead Padme, Anakin and I all to our rooms and I collapsed onto the bed, exhausted. "You know, I really am going to get Obi-Wan back for this." I said and got off the bed, walking over to Padme. "Ashlynn, it was a long ride, I think I need a walk." She said and left the room. "Bu-bu-but you have to unpack your things!" I called after her. "You can do it." She said and gave me an encouraging smile. "Ugh! 'Ashlynn do this', 'Ashlynn do that', do things for yourself senator!" I yelled and started unpacking the clothes. When I finished, R8 came over to me with a plate of food. "No thanks R8, I'm not hungry." I said. "As soon as Senator Amidala finds something, she's gonna signal me to come to her." I said, resting my head back in the chair I'm sitting on.

"Can I sleep now?" I asked Anakin and he sighed. "Fine, go sleep. You would make a terrible guard you know." Anakin said. "What? I'm the one who did all the work today!" I said but he was already gone. I sighed and went to my quarters, flopping on the bed and falling right to sleep.

----- ----- -----

"Ashlynn get up!" I woke up to see Senator Amidala's face and groaned. "How much sleep did I get, an hour?" I asked. "No, actually you got about 30 min. We have to go now though." Padme said and grabbed my wrist. I groaned and strained my uniform, then left the room to go to dinner. "Senator, as my honored guest, please share this drink with me." Senator Dod had a glass in his hand and was going to share it with Padme, but I didn't know that. I was too thirsty to pay attention. "A toast to our new friendship." He said and I grabbed it out of his hand. "Thank you, I'm so thirsty!" I gulped down the rest of the drink and they all glared at me. "What?" I asked. "Ashlynn, that was for me." Padme said and my leku darkened from embarrassment. "Sorry." I said and stared at my toes.

After dinner was over, I stood up from my chair and began to feel lightheaded. "Ashlynn, are you alright?" Padme asked me. "Oh, yeah, just worn out I guess. It was a long day." I said and she nodded. "How about you head back to the room, Clovis is going to give me a tour of the place." She said and I nodded. "Thank you Senator." I said and left for the room.

As I got into my room I walked over to R8 and kneel down in front of him. "Time to shut down R8, pick a spot." I told him like I do every night he has to shut down. He picks a spot in the corner of the room and I get to my feet and start to walk over there. I then feel lightheaded again, and grabbing my head I collapse to the ground, fainting.

----- ----- -----

My vision was blurring but it soon cleared as I opened my eyes. I saw Padme, Anakin and Clovis were all arguing, and I felt very weak, like I was dying. "Anakin, what's happening?" I asked him. He turned away from Clovis and rushed over to me. "It's okay Ashlynn, you were just poisoned, accidentally. Were going to save you though, I promise." He told me and I nodded, resting my head back and sighing. Worst day ever, that's for sure. Anakin scooped me up in his arms and I grabbed his neck for a tighter grip. He took me out of the room and down the stairs and I faintly heard the sound of them talking. "I'm sorry, Lott, Ashlynn is very ill and we're taking her to her ship." Clovis was saying. "If Ashlynn is ill, she should not be moved." Lott said. "I have contacted the authorities on Naboo. They thought it best to take her back to Coruscant. The doctors there are better equipped." Clovis responded. "You cannot leave!" Lott yelled and I heard noise that sounded like guns. "Give me the antidote or you're dead!" Clovis yelled and I opened my eyes enough to see him pointing a gun at Lott. "You'll pay for this." Lott said and pulled out the antidote. "Your kindness is much appreciated Senator." He growled and turned to Padme. "This should save your friend, now go!" He said and she nodded and Anakin ran off with me. I closed my eyes again and gritted my teeth. I needed that antidote now!

"Wait! Give me back my disk!" Clovis was yelling to us as we boarded the ship. "Don't worry, Clovis. It's good to know you have a heart. I wish I could give you the disk, but I have a lot of faith in your survival skills." Anakin said and I inwardly thought about how much I could get at him for this once I'm better. The door closed and Anakin laid me down on a medical bed. "Where's that medicine Padme?" He asked her and she handed him a vial. "I'm sorry." I told them and they looked at me, confused. "What for? For drinking that drink? It could have been Padme that was poisoned tonight, but you saved her. You also took care of everything else tonight, and I'm grateful for that." Anakin said and I smiled, drifting off to sleep.

----- ----- -----

"Obi-Wan! You are really going to get hell from me!" I yelled to myself when I woke up and R8 told me I had to stay in bed for weeks. "Come on, let's go get Anakin and Padme." I told him and went to the cockpit. I opened the door and gasped at what I saw. Anakin was kissing the senator! "Anakin!" I yelled and he looked at me in fear. "Please don't tell anyone!" He said and I smirked. "Of course I won't tell anyone, the question is, tell them what?" I asked and they exchanged glances. "Were married." They said in unison and my jaw dropped.

"WHAT!?!"

[funtimebunnyblog]

Diamante d’Italia: Chapter 5

(Chapter 5: Another day in paradise)

Josuke grit his teeth, his chin resting in his hand as he held the phone slightly away from his ear, though the guffaw that continued to ring out from the speaker could still be very much heard.

He had already called his Mom to check in with her when he first woke up this morning and since he had the whole day ahead of him he waited until after a much needed shower to call his best friend.

That now seemed like a mistake after listening to him howl with laughter for almost five minutes now.

He winced as Crazy Diamonds hands ghosted over the mottled flesh of his back, sharp pinging following their careful movements as the stand dutifully patched him up.

He was just glad the bed made it easier to sit down with that one.

From what he saw in the bathroom mirror, where those junkies had kicked him in the back had left a bruise that was the size of a basket ball and it was as black and green as Rohans signature hair.

Spots of the same colours along with splotches of an ugly purple were also sprouting on his upper left arm and shoulder. Not to mention the particularly ugly one that was currently taking up residence on his thigh and.... a more unsavory place just slightly north of there.

He had definitely been right about hurting in the morning that's for sure because he practically yelped when rolling over, causing him to fall out of bed and onto the carpeted floor to add to it all.

Staring up into the face of Crazy Diamond looking down at him from where he laid half-whimpering and aching all over was not a way he would recommend starting your day.

The fan of the hotel room spun slowly above him from where he sat on the huge marshmallowy bed in only a towel, his damp pale skin starting to dry and chill beneath the breeze.

"--so-so... lemme get this straight-... you..." Josuke rolled his eyes as Okuyasu struggled to keep his giggles in check over the phone. "You get there..... and-... hehehe.... and- not even like 2 hours.... -and you get beat up?"

"Yes." He sighed.

"BWAHAHAHAHA!!!"

"--oh Josuke!" He wheezed into the receiver, dying down into giggles again. "--I'm so sorry buddy- but that's.... -that's funny.... oww... owww my stomach..."

Josuke grunted, pulling the phone away from his head to avoid going deaf in his right ear as more barking laughter rang out.

He could practically feel Crazy Diamonds own eyeroll as they continued their ministrations on his back.

"Yeah, yeah. I know." He groaned. "Just don't tell Mom, I don't want her to worry about me."

"So what happened after? You must've gotten away somehow right? Did CD put them in their place?" His words were almost drowned out by the obnoxious crinkling of a bag in the background, followed by the unmistakable crunch of potato chips drilling into his eardrum.

"No. I didn't even think about it. It was all happening so fast all I could think of was to grab hold of my suitcase and not let go."

"Oh man, you didn't lose your luggage did you?" Okuyasu questioned after swallowing his mouthful of junkfood very quickly. "Your Mom would have a fit!"

A smile found its way to Josukes face, "No actually. Someone helped me, oh man you should've seen him! He put a run to them and he was really cool too!"

Josuke proceeded to tell Okuyasu all about the one and only Abbacchio and their time together along with meeting Bucciarati.

He spared no details in telling him all about the scrumptious meal he had devoured that night, he could practically hear the other teenager drooling all over the phone as he described the juicy details of prosciutto stuffed chicken breast.

Bruno looked very anxious and warned him it was very dangerous to wander the streets at night, most especially when he was a tourist carrying all his possessions that didn't know where to go.

After Josuke had eaten last night, Bruno asked him if he was staying somewhere and the teenager realized he had completely forgotten about finding a Hotel!

The streets by then were dark and it was late, they had talked for so long but the time had just flew right bye. Jouske had grabbed his bag and thanked the two men graciously for the food and their company, making sure he bowed deeply in respect as he done so, about to head out to find one before he was stopped.

More importantly, he wouldn't even be able to read any signs leading to a Hotel.

Josuke realized he had gotten ahead of himself and accepted the mans proposal to take him to the Hotel a few blocks away, which he did and Josuke had to say, the place was like paradise on Earth.

The building itself was huge! Not to mention high-class. The lobby had a chandelier that was the size of his Livingroom back home! And the fountain in the center of it was bigger than the one outside his School!

Bruno chuckled seeing the owlish expression on his face as they entered through the glass sliding doors, the reflection of the golden lights above them on the polished white marble floor made his baby blue eyes sparkle. Abbacchio simply opted for staying outside and smoking a much needed cigarette while his partner helped Josuke arrange a room.

"Oh man!" Okuyasu said through another mouthful of chips. "That sounds A-B-C-Delicious! I wanna eat that!"

"You'll have to bug Tonio about it if you're that eager." Josuke laughed. "Speaking of food, you've eaten a full meal today right?"

The crunching came to a sudden stop.

"Define--"

"As in you've eaten something cooked and not just junkfood." He interrupted, drumming his fingers on his knee, he already knew his answer however.

Silence... he could actually hear the sounds of Stray Cat (whom both boys had taken to aptly nicknaming 'Guns and Roses') purring along with the feint sound of the TV playing in the background.

"Okuyasu!"

"Sorry! I'll eat real food tomorrow!" He whined. "I just forgot is all!"

"I've actually just been binge watching this goofy tv series. I've heard about it for a while but I finally decided to get into it. Man, I'm gonna be so sore tomorrow, I've been sitting on my ass for so long!" He cackled.

Josuke huffed, however deciding to not press him further on the matter and take his word.

Okuyasu needed to take better care of himself and Josuke usually had to remind him of the importance of it, along with helping his friend pilot through all his emotional troubles.

"It's this Anime thing called 'Dodo's Wacky Quest'. It's pretty good!" There was a pause as a indignant 'meow' sounded close to the phone, followed by more rustling of the chip bag. Okuyasu grunted, the phone crackling  as he moved to hand the living plant a chip. "The series is pretty long though. But hopefully I'll have most of it done by the time you get back."

'Speak for yourself...' Josuke thought, shifting slightly on the bed to try and inevitably get more comfortable.

Crazy Diamond was almost finished with his back, the worst one was next.

"What series is it?" He couldn't help but ask.

"Huh," Josuke rubbed his chin, smiling. "I'll have to watch some of it with you."

"That'd be cool! Dodo kinda reminds me of you actually. I dunno if I've met any Jio in my life though, dude gives me the willies..."

Crazy Diamond leaned over him and tapped his leg, shooting him a look.

"I'd better go man. I'll try to talk to you tomorrow, remember your promise!" He said into the phone, turning away from his stand.

"Ok. Ok. I will. Jeeze..." the eyeroll he was getting was evident in the others voice. "Be safe JoJo!"

"I will. Bye."

He put the phone back in its cradle on the bedside stand and sighed, swatting away the phantom hands that pulled on the towel covering him and ignoring the exasperated 'Dora' as he shunted it aside himself.

'Lay on your stomach.' Came the telepathic order from Crazy Diamond. 'I can give you a massage after I'm done with the last bruise to help relax you further.'

He was just glad he didn't decide to tell Okuyasu about his last bruise, otherwise he would've probably passed out from laughter, resulting in Josuke to have to end the call promptly.

He'd never be able to live this down from his stand alone....

☆☆☆

There was so much he wanted to do, and so much he wanted to see. He decided to leave his suitcase behind within the safety of his room (not wanting a repeat of yesterday) carrying just his wallet, a disposable camera his Mom had given him to take pictures and his handy dandy comb of course.

Finally walking again and not shuffling along uncomfortably like an old man (as he had been doing earlier), Josuke strutted downstairs to the lobby without a hair out of place.

His precious mane had been properly lathered, rinsed, gelled, combed and hairsprayed and he was ready to tackle the day!

The golden charms adorning his uniform gleamed like his eyes and he walked with pep in his step, shoes shined and clicking on the polished marble floor.

He needed to tackle business first before he went about to getting some breakfast. He had already had a cup of strong instant coffee after the massage given to him by his stand, using the machine inside of his room (this Hotel really had everything).

"Hello." He greeted the lady at the desk in the lobby, a woman in her sixties with greying hair pulled back into a bun, maroon lipstick and matchig rectangular spectacles. "I was just wondering if I could pay for my nightly stay now and maybe pay for tomorrow too?"

"Can I have your name, dear?" She asked, already typing away on the keyboard of the large white box computer before her.

"Josuke Higashikata. J-O-S-U-K-E."

Her long black nails clicked and clacked away loudly on the keyboard, he watched in silence as her dark red lips pursed, her eyes scanning the screen.

"It says here you're already covered for your full stay."

'Embarrassing' wouldn't be a word he would use to describe a situation where he had to call his Nephew and demurely ask if he could get a lift home like a drunk teenager calling a half-alseep Parent in the middle of the night.

He blinked at her, raising both his eyebrows.

"Umm... I don't think that's right. I only booked the room last night..." he trailed off, feeling his heart starting to pound in his chest.

He prayed to God this somehow wouldn't end with him being in debt with no way home.

She hummed, "It says you're fully covered. You just need to inform the Hotel of the date you're departing and a direct deposit is already in order." She explained.

That answered absolutely none of his questions.

"How is that possible?" He asked, doing his best to keep his voice calm as he rubbed the back of his neck idly.

More typing and clicking.

"It says here that your stay has been covered by..... a Mr. Bruno Bucciarati. He arranged for the bill to be footed to him." Came her reply at last, turning in her chair to look at him.

It took the Highschooler a moment to process that, blinking like an idiot as she stared at him.

What.... when.... how did..... why did....?

"Oh.... uh.... I-I see. Thank you." He told the older woman at last, with a half-hearted wave goodbye as he left the lobby, out into the world of golden sunshine awaiting him outside.

Each question seemed to short-circuit in his brain, he couldn't decide on what to ask first.

Josuke finally realized he was lingering and staring as the old woman addressed him again, before averting his eyes, his face tinging a little pink.

Why on Earth would the man put himself through so much trouble? Paying out of his pocket for him at a Hotel where people who looked like they wiped their asses with dollar bills stayed there no less! It didn't make sense!

This Hotel seemed a little one the pricy side, he had actually been wary about staying here the night but didn't want to be rude and ask Bucciarati to take him to another Hotel, so he decided to risk it and see how much it was the next day (silently praying he wouldn't be dialing Jotaro Kujo afterwards with a speech prepared of course).

This however changed everything.

He was still a virtual stranger to Bruno and his partner, and he didn't feel like he had earned such a kind gesture. He didn't have a doubt in his mind that both men were wealthy but this just felt akin to stealing in Josukes eyes.

It was the least he could do. It's what he wanted to do. It's what he was raised to do.

Josuke leaned up against the stone wall of the Hotel, considering his options. He could tell the Hotel that wasn't necessary and to cancel that previous order and allow him to pay.

Or he could find Bucciarati again (it couldn't be that hard) and offer to pay him back, if not in money maybe he could do something in return for him.

That did it.

He took one last look at the Hotel to remember the name as he prepared to cross the street (he needed something to go off of if he was gonna find a way back afterall).

He had a new mission added onto today.

He was going to do some sight seeing, eat some more damn delicious food and keep his eyes open for either one of the men he dined with last night.

"Albergo brillante Diamante..." he murmured, absentmindedly scratching his cheek as he did his best to pronounce the words (in what he hoped was the correct manor).

"Hmm... wonder what that means."

All he truly knew was that he Josuke Higashikata, had a mission he was going to see through today.

...

He mentally added 'buying a dictionary' to his list today as he narrowly avoided a car coming in the street, yelling out a "Sorry!" To the driver laying on his horn (who wasn't supposed to have the right away).

[To be coninued... 》

[gra-sonas]

There Was Only One Bed

Pairing: Malex, Alex Manes/Michael Guerin

Words: 3.3K | Rating: PG | On AO3

This fic’s been written for my dearest @insidious-intent as a gift for the Cosmic Love Exchange 2019 over at @goodvibesinroswell.

Dear Inigo, the day you reblogged this screenshot of a recent CNN headline, was the day you were assigned to me as my Cosmic Love Buddy. I squealed, ngl. Not only because you basically delivered the perfect prompt to my doorstep, but because you are one of my closest friends I was lucky enough to meet through RNM, and now I got to make a gift for you. Lucky me!

You are a delight, darling, an invaluable beta reader not only for myself, but also many other writers, you’re the queen of sass, a thirstyfirst order Malex and Vlamburn enthusiast, and a wonderful friend. ILU! This is for you, bb. ♥

••••••••••••••••••••

“Professor Guerin, Sir, I’m very sorry, but the last flight back to Albuquerque has departed half an hour ago, there won’t be another flight until tomorrow around noon.”

Michael nearly drops his head on the desk and sighs. He’s tired and hungry and wants nothing more than a warm meal and a bed.

“Okay, is there a hotel where I can stay for the night?”

“There’s a hotel close to the airport. I’ll see what I can do, but due to delays and some cancelled flights, we had to organize overnight stays for several passengers. Please take a seat, Professor, I’ll let you know when I have more details.”

Michael runs a hand through his hair, messing up his mop of curls further.

“Thanks, Susan. I’ll sit down over there and wait.”

Michael gestures at the seating area near the check-in desk, grabs the handle of his trolley and walks over. Only one other passenger is sitting there, a black backpack placed between his feet. The man looks equally tired and disheveled as Michael feels, the strands of his dark hair sticking up every which way, like he’s run his fingers through his hair repeatedly. There's a dried coffee stain prominent on his vanilla-colored hoodie, as if he's spilled the contents of an entire cup all over himself. He’s wearing dark blue jeans and brown boots, and a crutch is leaning against the empty seat to his right.  

Michael slowly approaches the man.

“Uhm, hi. Are you also here to wait for hotel information?”

The stranger looks up and Michael feels a pang of something deep down. The man could easily be a model and grace the cover of GQ magazine, he’s that level of gorgeous. When the stranger smiles at him, Michael’s stomach drops even further. He knows he’s in trouble the second he locks eyes with the man.

“Yeah, apparently there are no flights back to Albuquerque until tomorrow. I’m just so lucky.”

The stranger looks down at himself to inspect the coffee stain. Then he looks back up at Michael, rubs at his eyes and dishevels his hair even further by running his hands through them. He's clearly tired and his clothes are rumpled, but he still looks absolutely stunning.

“Long day?” Michael asks.

The stranger scoffs.

“The longest day of my life. And I’ve served three tours.”

“Thank you for your service, Private.”

Michael bites his lip when he realizes that what he said might offend the veteran. He’s also sure that his remark came out a lot more flirty than intended, curse his tired brain. When the stranger laughs, he’s relieved.

“I’m Air Force actually, that would make me an Airman. And it’s Captain, if you don’t mind.”

“Captain, of course. Please forgive my ignorance, I’m not overly familiar with military ranks and stuff. So, you’re Top Gun, that sounds cool.”

The man laughs again, and Michael can’t take his eyes off of him.

“That’s usually the assumption. And while I know my way around military airplanes, I’m more of a desk criminal these days. I’m no longer fit for combat duty.”

He bends down and knocks against his right lower leg. It makes a sound as if the man’s knocked on metal and the crutch makes a lot more sense all of a sudden. Michael tries his best not to blush, even though he’s mortified and worried that he may not only have offended a veteran, but a disabled veteran. He likes the man, why won't his brain let him hold a normal conversation without blurting out inappropriate remarks? When the man smiles at him, Michael feels a little less like an ass.

“Captain...?”

“Manes, Alex Manes. Please, call me Alex.”

Michael grabs the outstretched hand of Captain Alex Manes and shakes it.

“Guerin, Michael. Well, Professor Guerin actually. But please, call me Michael.”

They smile at each other and there’s a spark. A spark of recognition, of longing, of belonging even, Michael almost gasps. Then he sees that Alex’s pupils are blown wide, like he can feel it too. Michael swallows around an invisible lump in his throat, his and Alex’s hands still clasping at each other.

He lets go of Alex’s hand reluctantly, instantly missing the warmth and comforting firmness of it.

Michael takes a seat beside Alex.

“So, Professor Guerin. What are you teaching?”

Michael smiles.

“Quantum mechanics and astrophysics.”

“Nice! So, if my career makes me Maverick, what does that make you? Bruce Banner?”

Michael laughs.

“I don’t have the bulk to pull off Bruce, at least not when he’s hulked out. I’m probably more like Mork.”

“Meaning you're a little awkward, a little inappropriate, yet very funny, and telekinetic?”

Alex raises a questioning brow at Michael.

Michael’s stomach twists. If only the gorgeous man across from him knew that he is indeed telekinetic. And an alien. Just like Mork. Oddly enough Michael doesn’t want to lie. He winks at Alex.

“Well, I can’t spill all my secrets on our first date, Captain.”

Alex’s brow climbs impossibly higher on his forehead.

“I wasn’t aware that this is a date, Professor.”

Michael blushes and drops his head into his open hands.

“I’m sorry, my brain-to-mouth filter seems to be defective when I’m tired.”

“Oh, don’t apologize, we can make it a date if you want. Let's see, I have half a bottle of water and a dry cheese sandwich. And I’ve downloaded season three of Stranger Things to my phone. You up for Netflix and Chill?”

Michael snorts.

“You do know what the chill actually means, right?”

Alex smirks.

“Well, I can’t spill all my secrets on our first date either.”

Michael laughs out loud at this. Then he opens the front compartment of his trolley and rummages around in it.

“Oh, I like you, Captain. I like you a lot. Let’s see. I have a bottle of lukewarm ice tea, an apple and a bag of nuts. I haven’t had a chance to watch season three of Stranger Things yet, so I’m up for it. After dinner?”

They look at each other and grin so hard, it almost hurts.

They eat half a sandwich and a handful of nuts each, then they take turns taking bites from the apple while handing the water bottle back and forth. Neither of them's in the mood for lukewarm ice tea and Michael puts it back into his trolley.

They skip the chill part of their ‘date’ and keep a conversation going instead, sharing random facts about themselves, talking about their jobs, and for all that Michael understands, they are flirting as if they were on a real date. He’s never felt so at ease with another person, so relaxed and calm. At the same time, he’s on edge, feeling a pull towards Alex, an indescribable urge to plaster himself all over the man.  

Unconsciously, he’s been edging closer throughout their conversation, reducing the distance between himself and Alex inch by inch.  

When he’s close enough to catch a whiff of Alex’s cologne, he almost moans, it smells so good. He must be so tired that he feels like he can barely control himself anymore, wanting nothing more than to drop his head on Alex’s shoulder and snuggle up to him. He wants to bury his nose in the crook of Alex's neck and stay there forever, surrounded and soothed by Alex's steady pulse and irresistible scent.  

Alex seems oblivious to Michael’s inner turmoil, animatedly telling an anecdote from a time at base camp when he was just 18 years old. Michael tries his best to follow the story, but all he can focus on is the way Alex’s eyes crinkle when he laughs, the way his elegant hands gesticulate (Alex is wearing a silver ring on his right middle finger, whenever he gestures, it catches the light from the ceiling lights and it’s mesmerizing).

Alex is also wearing an earring - a simple silver hoop – in his left ear. Michael wants to lean over and catch it between his lips. His cock twitches at the idea.  

When a young man heads over from the service desk, Michael tries to focus on what he has to say.

“Captain Manes, Professor Guerin?”

“That would be us,” Alex replies and gestures between them.

“My name is Thomas and I’d like to apologize that it took so long. Susan’s told me that you were hoping we could book accommodation at the airport hotel for you, and I’m happy to inform you, that we were able to secure a room for you. There’s a taxi waiting outside in front of the terminal, it will bring you right over.”

Alex and Michael look at each other in relief. As entertaining as their conversation’s been, they are both tired. Michael gets up first and nods at Thomas.

“Thanks for your help, Thomas, we really appreciate it.”

He turns around to Alex and gestures at his backpack.

“Do you have any more luggage?”

Alex shakes his head.

“Only this one.”

“Good, let’s head over to our carriage then, my Lord.”

He bows down in a mock curtsy, offering Alex his hand in the process. Alex blinks for a second, then laughs and grabs the offered hand and slowly pulls himself into a standing position.

“Thanks, Professor, you are too kind.”

Thomas clears his throat.

“Goodnight, gentlemen. Please be back at the airport around ten tomorrow morning.”

Alex and Michael bid their goodbyes to the man, grab their luggage and Alex also his crutch, then they walk over to the exit. Alex leans on his crutch heavily, like he's tired and in pain. Michael closes his eyes for a moment and wishes he had Max’s healing abilities. His telekinesis is fun and often helpful, but right now he’d rather be able to take away Alex's pain.

When they exit the terminal, their taxi driver is waiting for them. They put their luggage in the trunk and without being prompted, Michael takes Alex’s crutch once Alex sits in the passenger seat. Alex smiles at him warmly.

“Thank you, Professor.”

“My pleasure, Captain.”

He places the crutch in the trunk and takes a seat behind Alex. The drive over to the hotel is short, yet they tip the taxi driver generously. Michael gets their belongings out of the trunk and they enter the hotel.

A young woman behind the reception desk smiles at them.

“Good evening, gentlemen, my name’s Natalie, and you must be Professor Manes and Captain Guerin?”

“It’s the other way around, but yes, this is Captain Manes, and I’m Professor Guerin.”

The woman blushes.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, I got things mixed up.”

Michael smiles at her.

“No problem. If you could please just lead us to our rooms, we’re both tired and would like to get some sleep.”

Natalie nods and walks around the desk.

“My pleasure, gentlemen, please follow me.”

By unspoken agreement, Michael takes Alex’s backpack and hoists it over one shoulder, then grabs the handle of his trolley.

“After you, Captain.”

Alex smiles at him thankfully and follows the woman to an elevator with slow, measured steps, leaning on his crutch. When the doors open, they all step inside and Natalie pushes the button for the third floor. When they arrive, the doors open and they step into a hallway. Natalie turns left and they follow her down a corridor until she stops in front of a door with the number 345.

She turns to them.

“You are lucky, we are fully booked and this is our last free room.”

Alex and Michael look at each other, then they look at her.

“Uhm, there must be a mistake. We are not together. I mean, we don’t travel together. I mean, we didn’t even know each other until an hour ago. We need a second room.”

Michael looks at her with wide eyes. She shakes her head.

“I’m so sorry, gentlemen, but there are no other free rooms. This is the last one.”

She opens the door with a keycard and turns the lights on.

They step into the room behind her. It’s a small room. A wardrobe and small desk with a flatscreen TV mounted on the wall above to the left, a bathroom and a bed to the right. One bed. It’s a king size but, but still, just one bed. Michael sighs.

Natalie looks flustered.

“I’m terribly sorry, I wish I could offer you something else, but this is all we have.”

Alex and Michael look at each other for a moment, searching for something in each other’s eyes. When they both seem to find what they were looking for in the other man's eyes, they nod at each other with a tilt of their heads and turn back to Natalie. It’s Alex who speaks for them.

“It’s okay, Natalie. We’ll take the room. It’s only one night, a couple of hours in fact. I’m sure we’ll manage.”  

Michael chimes in.

“Natalie, would you have another blanket, though? More towels would also be great. And is there a vending machine somewhere. And ice?”

Natalie nods.

“Yes, of course, Sir. I can bring the extra blanket and towels to you. The vending and ice machines are at the other end of the corridor.”

“You know what? Why don’t I come with you and spare you the way back up here? It'd give Captain Manes some space and time to get ready for bed.”

Alex smiles at Michael, a huge THANKS written across his face.

The young woman nods.

“Of course, Sir, please follow me. Good night, Captain Manes.”

“Good night, Natalie. And thank you, Michael.”

Michael grabs Alex’s shoulder and squeezes it for a moment.

“It’s okay. I’ll be back in about 15 minutes. Hope you won’t be asleep by then, Captain.”

Alex winks at Michael, then his voice drops an octave.

“I’ll eagerly await your return, Professor.”

Liquid hot desire runs down Michael’s spine. He licks his lips and when Alex smirks, he knows that Alex has noticed his reaction. He shakes his head and turns to leave the room.  

“I’ll be back in a few.”

Michael follows Natalie out into the corridor where she hands him the keycard to the room. He closes the door behind him.  

When he returns to the room about 20 minutes later, he’s carrying an extra blanket, towels and a cushion under his left arm, he's also holding two water bottles in his left hand. In his other hand he carries an insulated bucket with a lid. It's filled with ice. He’s holding the keycard between his fingers and hopes that he won’t drop everything in his attempt to open the door.  

He holds the card close to the magnetic field and enters the room with all items still in his hands.

Alex is already in bed, occupying the right side. His head is propped up on a cushion and he’s holding a tablet in his left hand. He looks up at Michael and Michael nearly drops everything there and then, because Alex is wearing glasses and no shirt.  

Michael can't help himself.

“Holy shit, did GQ call? I’m sure they want their cover model back.”

Alex laughs and a questioning eyebrow becomes visible above the thick rim of his black framed glasses.

“Didn't take you for someone who's reading GQ, Professor.”

Michael doesn’t know how to react to that. To any of it. Alex looks insanely attractive, and he keeps calling Michael Professor, which does things to Michael. He’s definitely too tired to handle the situation with dignity, so he quickly places the water bottles and the ice bucket on the desk, takes the towels in his now empty right hand and drops the blanket and cushion in a pile on the left side of the bed.  

“I... I’ll better go and take a shower. A cold one. Jesus Fucking Christ.”

He all but flees into the bathroom and only dares to breathe, when the door is closed behind him. Then he remembers the ice bucket and why he brought it. Shit! He looks at himself in the mirror and moans. He looks like a mad man, his curls a messy halo around his head, his pupils blown impossibly wide. He turns on the cold water, washes his hands and splashes some water on his face. Then he grabs a towel and rubs at his face. He takes a deep steadying breath, then takes a clean towel, opens the door behind him and returns to the bed room.

Alex looks up at him, questioningly. Michael grabs the ice bucket and pulls a ziploc bag out of the pocket of his dress pants. He holds both items up.

“Uhm, I’m not sure if this is ok, but I noticed that you were in pain earlier, and I thought that maybe you’d like to put ice on your leg?”

He feels terribly shy all of a sudden, his face probably tomato red from blushing so hard. He closes his eyes, the ice bucket and ziploc still clutched in his outstretched hands. What if Alex finally takes offense at something he says? What if he gets angry? Michael tries not to panic but breathing seems impossibly hard all of a sudden.

“Michael, please look at me.”

Alex’s voice is quiet and soft. Michael blinks his eyes open.

Alex looks at him with kind eyes, puts his tablet away and shuffles over further into the middle of the bed. Then he pats the empty space beside him. When Michael steps closer, he notices the prosthetic leg leaning against the nightstand. He quickly averts his gaze and looks at Alex instead, then he sits down on the bed.

“You are right, I’m in pain, have been all afternoon. You noticed and now you’re bringing me ice. It's remarkable, really. I’ve... I’ve never met someone quite like you. You're one of a kind, Michael Guerin.”

Alex’s voice sounds amused, a smile plays on his lips. Michael blinks at Alex’s words, and once again, he can’t help himself, he doesn’t want to lie.

“Well, technically there are at least two others of my kind.”

Alex tilts his head in surprise.

“Are you telling me you’re a triplet, Professor?”

Michael smiles and winks at Alex.

“I guess you could say that, yes.”

“Do the other two look as gorgeous as you?”

Michael snorts.

“Oh, they wish. But no, we’re not identical triplets, maybe not even biological triplets. I.. It’s a longer story. Too long and complicated to tell tonight.”

Alex smiles at Michael seductively, his voice smooth and inviting when he speaks.

“Good thing that I’m not in the mood for a bedtime story then. I have something more chill in mind, if you’re up for it?”

Alex slowly takes the ice bucket and the ziploc bag from Michael's hands and places them on the nightstand. Then he takes Michael’s head between his hands and pulls him closer in slow increments, giving Michael plenty of time and opportunity to indicate that he's not up for chill. But Michael doesn't want an out, he wants the opposite. He twists around further to face Alex properly. Alex slides his hands into Michael's curls and pulls him in until their lips meet in a kiss.

It’s tender at first, just a press of lips. Then Michael opens his mouth, then Alex does too, and then they’re not coming up for air for a long, long time, their tongues and lips too eager to explore and conquer. Michael never makes it back into the bathroom for a cold shower...

They're up for hours and when they finally fall asleep in the wee hours of the next morning, utterly sated and wrapped around each other, they sleep so deep, they miss the flight to Albuquerque at noon.

When they wake up, they extend their stay in room 345 for another night.

[rainstormcolors]

I wrote the opening for a project last year. It’s based on the YGO R manga and stars Pegasus, and is essentially only a short chapter.

I’ll post it here before vanishing again.

He had been floating, through what felt like cold lightless water. Something was pulling him upwards, and he could not see. And then there was something, like a luminescent deep sea jellyfish. It was growing larger. A constellation formed around the creature, and he realized it was her. It was her. He reached out and he was clawing to get nearer, to touch those warm hands again.

And suddenly there was nothing.

---

And suddenly everything was bright and heavy again.

There was a voice.

“He’s moving. Did it work…?”

“Is it you, Master Pegasus?”

His eyesight was too blurry, but he recognized these voices. He felt too heavy to move and it was like his throat was plugged with slime. This… wasn’t right. This didn’t feel right at all.

“Master Pegasus…?” said the voice he knew belonged to Yako Tenma, one of his adopted sons.

What’s happened? he tried to say, but the words were a croak. It was so heavy and bright.

His vision was clearing. He was inside some kind of mechanical pod. There were cords and the high buzz of electricity. He could make out the mint color of the twin Tenmas’ hair.

“What have you done…” he managed to breathe.

“Is it you, Master Pegasus?” Gekko Tenma said for the second time.

Pegasus shifted eyes that didn’t feel quite right. He looked down at his body inside the pod, a body he didn’t have the strength to move. This… this wasn’t his body. His eyes… he had two eyes.

“You might have some trouble moving. That body’s been braindead for a while now. It’s probably atrophied. And it’s… it’s the first time you’re using this body too,” Gekko said.

Yako bent down and touched Pegasus’ bare shoulder, peered into his eyes. And inside Yako’s eyes, Pegasus saw a reflection of matted blond hair.

“It… worked… He’s alive. I know it. It’s him. It’s him! It worked!” Yako’s voice flowered. “Master Pegasus is alive!” he cheered joyfully, head tipped skywards, his fingers digging softly into Pegasus’ flesh.

A warm hand…

“Cynthia…” Pegasus said softly.

---

He was recovering faster than usual from the effects of the coma but he tired very easily. His fingers felt dull and his feet were numb. The nerve damage would be permanent and he’d have to keep careful check of his body.

The hospital ward was too noisy and he was sick of it. Salmon walls and speckled linoleum, a voice telling him to squeeze a small squishable ball. He was sick of his physical therapy, he was sick of his physical therapist, he was sick of Yako bringing him pastries and comic books in the late afternoon, and he was sick of Keith Howard’s ugly two-eyed face.

“Annnnd release...... Annnnd grip......”

He couldn’t see his therapist’s thoughts: just a sugary bland expression on her face. His eyes moved to the gun---no, ball-!

“Is everything alright?”

The ball was dropped from his hand. There had been a gun embedded in his hand-! He saw it-! For just a flicker of a moment, he saw a gun in this alien hand-!

---

“Yako, why did you bring me back?”

There was a pair of ruby-bright cardinals in the tree outside the window. Grey sunshine was held in the branches.

“Master Pegasus?”

Pegasus was staring at the outside world, ignoring the tray of awful hospital food set over his lap. Yako had just stepped into the room, a paper bag carrying a loaf of sweet zucchini bread in his grip.

“Why. Did you bring me back?” Pegasus didn’t look at his adopted son.

“You were stolen from us. You were murdered.” Yako moved to Pegasus’ side. “You still don’t remember anything? Was it a man? How tall was he? Was it Yugi, or one of the others?”

“I told you, I don’t remember,” Pegasus lied, still watching the pair of birds. The female cardinal flew away with a swish and then her partner followed.

“Master Pegasus.” Yako’s voice was gentle. Pegasus looked at him, and he was so young.

“You’re a good lad, Yako, but I was the one who was supposed to raise the dead. Not you.”

There was a pause.

“I’m sorry,” Yako murmured.

---

He wanted to go home. He couldn’t wait. He wanted to go to where the world couldn’t touch him for a while.

He had relearned to sleep, relearned to walk. This body was just a little bit taller. Its eyesight was a tiny bit poorer, despite having two eyes.

He thought of the doorway, the petal glow of Cynthia in water. Was that even real?

When he saw her for an evanescent heartbeat eight years ago in exchange for an eye and his entire fate, he knew she had been real then.

He was sent away on a ship with his sons, Gekko and Yako Tenma, who stayed on the deck watching the emerald sea. And with his righthand man, Croquet, and Pegasus didn’t know where on the ship Croquet kept drifting away to. And there was a personal physical therapist coming along: a man of maybe thirty years who spoke of a fiancé and a toy poodle waiting for him at home. Pegasus lay in a bed inside, his muscles still easily tired. There was a painting of seabirds and lavender sailboats on the wall in his room. How redundant, Pegasus thought.

spoiled prissy shit

Pegasus blinked hard. The voice had been tiny and fleeting.

---

The green of the island swelled before them, and then they reached land.

The physical therapist helped Pegasus into a motorized cart built for four, though only Pegasus and Croquet sat inside, Croquet the driver. Croquet moved his tongue over the false tooth in his mouth, a nervous habit he built after having the tooth put in. Luggage was packed into the other two seats. Another cart was packed with luggage and driven by a security guard who Pegasus couldn’t recall the name of. The security guard paused to take in Pegasus’ new face. The two carts drove over the packed dirt pathway, under tree branches and blue sky, with the Tenma twins and the therapist following by foot. The six of them moved towards a mammoth stone building, an old penitentiary remodeled (disguised) as a castle. A fortress to hide the heart.

“It’s really beautiful here, Master Pegasus,” said Gekko, his mint hair tied into a ponytail, a bag slung around his shoulder. His brother Yako was quiet, Yako’s hair hanging under a tweed cap.

“So how did you come about owning this whole place?” the over-friendly therapist asked.

“Mr. Pegasus gained the title to this property around eight years ago and refurbished the building before us into a proud manor,” Croquet said mechanically.

An iridescent butterfly danced over small purple blossoms in the wild grasses and Gekko watched with enchanted eyes as they passed.

The castle had been prepared for their arrival and there would be servants waiting inside, but the building had sat empty before then from the time of Pegasus’ death. The gardens leading to the back entryway were overgrown but still easily tamable. There were bushes of white roses and plum trees with purple leaves. Pegasus just wanted to curl up in bed and sleep.

The twin doors leading inside were heavy, elegant curling vines carved into the wood. Shoes clicked on the stone floors and a young maid with glasses offered a wheelchair to Pegasus.

“Welcome home, Master Pegasus,” she beamed.

Pegasus half-rolled his eyes as he plopped his body into the chair. “Take me to my chamber,” he said.

Gekko, Yako, and the therapist swiveled their heads, drinking in the landscape inside the castle. A chandelier dripping crystal threads sparkled over the group.

“We did find a strange package inside your room as we were preparing for you, sir,” the maid said as she turned the chair, “We weren’t sure what to do. It was unexpected.”

“What package?” Pegasus said.

[bailesu]

One Day in Paris (Haruka / Michiru Fanfic)

This is for a Haruka / Michiru exchange thing for @amrynth.  

I’ve put the story behind the cut as it’s kind of long for a tumblr post.

One Day in Paris

By John Biles

For the Haruka/Michiru stuff exchange.

*******************

Some days, Haruka loved being a detective. A good, challenging mystery.  High speed chases on high mountain roads where one wrong turn meant going off a cliff.  Shootouts in a Monaco casino.  Romance under the stars.  Finding yourself tied up the next morning and your wallet stolen.  Being arrested as a homeless person and…

Okay, her last job hadn’t *ended* well, but the start had been awesome.

“But Saaaaaam,” Makoto wailed into her cellphone two desks down.  “I’m a detective!  I can’t just let criminals rampage even if we did plan this for a week!”

Detective Minako had legs which wouldn’t quit.  Wouldn’t quite *kicking her desk to a beat*, that is.  Detective Rei, who had the desk behind Haruka, was starting to crumple paper and make grunting noises, and this could not lead to *anything* good.

“So you’re saying it’s Lupin,” Detective Zenigata said, four desks down into his cellphone.

It’s never Lupin, Haruka thought, sighing; she was busy checking her email to make sure she hadn’t missed a summons from their boss. The last time she’d done that, Head Detective Setsuna had somehow gone back in time and wrecked the best date she’d had in high school.

Petty, yet powerful.

I need a mission, Haruka thought as Rei now rose and began heading over to Minako’s desk.

Also, I need to convince Head Detective Setsuna that this open office arrangement is a *bad idea*, she thought as Makoto now babbled to Sam; no one was sure if Sam was male or female; Haruka was pretty sure Sam was a woman, but whatever Sam was, Makoto was headed for another crash and burn.  Haruka would have felt sorry for her but now Clippy rose from the grave, occupying half the screen on her monitor.  ‘Do you want help with your resignation letter?’

‘I want a damn mission to get me out of this office,’ she typed in.  ‘Also, I thought you died.’

‘That is not dead which cannot die, but with strange aeons…’, Clippy began.

Not another cult case, dammit, Haruka thought.

“If it’s a woman, it’s not Lupin, it’s his confederate Fujiko,” Inspector Zenigata said into the phone. “Be very careful; she is nearly as cunning as Carmen Sandiego, who *still* has my Betamax, dammit.”

A coffee mug slid onto the desk, and Haruka started, then saw it was Detective Usagi.  “I thought you were on the Osaka Jewelry case,” she said to Detective Usagi.

There was a crashing sound as half of everything on Detective Minako’s desk (six figurines of Sailor V, five of various idols, four pictures, a baseball signed by Babe Ruth, and a stack of books Minako would never read but claimed she would) all fell off it because Rei and Minako were engaged in either a fight to the death, foreplay, or probably both, Haruka assumed.

It had been kind of sexy the first three times but after Minako had accidentally somehow knocked Haruka’s favorite racing trophy into the toilet (which was fifteen meters away, an act which was *never* clearly explained to Haruka), Haruka now wished they would keep it at home and be professional at work, like *her*.

“I want to explain it to you, but the Kingdom of D was involved and Umino had to pass himself off as the princess and I just don’t want to think about it,” Usagi said, looking haunted.

“If those two weren’t separated at birth, I will be stunned,” Haruka said, then tried her coffee.  She took Usagi’s hand and squeezed it.  Usagi turned a little red. “You are a master of coffee.  Did you catch the thief, then?”

“It was all a trap to kidnap the princess, and we barely rescued Umino from the deathtrap when they realized they had the wrong person,” Detective Usagi said, trying to sit on Haruka’s desk.

Makoto sat at her desk, clutching her head, while Detective Ami patted her shoulder over and over, trying to help but not knowing what to do.

“I think I have to help Makoto,” Usagi said.

“Drop by any time,” Haruka said.

DING.  

Salvation had arrived.  A mission, so she could get out of this madhouse before…

“So is that your gun, or are you happy to…” Minako began.

“It’s my gun,” Rei said irritably as she tried to pin Minako.

“That joke only works with Detective Conan or Inspector Zenigata,” Ami pointed out.

Minako sighed.  “Ami, the straight woman’s job isn’t to ruin my jokes.”

The mission was to investigate the break-in at Renate Jewels in Paris.  Ahh, gay Paris, Haruka thought with satisfaction.  A city of beautiful buildings, great food and drink, love, and… hopefully not another chase through the sewers.

“No one in this place is straight except maybe Conan but he’s too young for us to think about that,” Ami said.

“Ami, you made *me* the straightwoman,” Minako said mournfully.

Haruka fled to get in her car and drive to Paris.

******************* Haruka then remembered it was not in fact possible to drive to Paris, so she got a plane ticket and arranged for a Lamborghini to be waiting for her in Paris.  When she arrived, she got it and… immediately fell asleep from jet lag in the parking lot of the rental place.

The next morning, she woke up, went to her hotel, took a shower and headed off to investigate the case, hoping the trail had not gone cold.  She felt alive; she needed her missions to give her purpose after she’d been banned from racing, even if it was all that freak Dirk Dastardly’s fault!

Then she headed out to Renate’s Jewels, a beautiful boutique near the Seine; a superheroine and a villain were fighting on a roof nearby, but Haruka ignored them; they had no jewels and were not part of her very important mission.

Renate was a middle-aged redhead who looked oddly familiar to Haruka, but Haruka didn’t worry about that, since it probably wasn’t going to be relevant.  “So she seduced you, tied you up, and then stole everything.”

“I wouldn’t have minded being tied up if she hadn’t *stolen* everything,” Renate said, then swooned.  

Haruka caught her and put her up on her feet.  “You should probably loosen your corset so you can breathe properly,” she said very seriously.

Renate said, “I’m going to need your help, detective.  Why don’t we go upstairs and you can help me do it.”

“Sorry, fair lady, but I’m on a *mission*,” she said, kissing Renate’s hand, then quickly adjusting her corset without taking it off.   Soon, Haruka headed for the Regal Arms, as the thief, who Renate had identified as the notorious Jewel Thief Michiru from a photo, had left behind a pack of matches.  The place was huge and grand, exactly the sort of place for an exciting showdown.  Every piece of furniture was worth two years of Haruka’s salary.

That would make her triumph cooler.  

She paused to adjust her suit in the mirror.  When confronting your nemesis, you have to have everything *just right*.  If your tie is out of place, it ruins the moment.

She then went to the front desk, presenting her badge and a photo of Jewel Thief Michiru running out of a shop with a bag full of jewelry.  “Have you seen this woman?”

The clerk adjusted her glasses.  “Yes, she was lounging around… our lounge… all night last night, looking increasingly cranky, then finally her friend dragged her upstairs with the help of the night concierge.”

Friend?

“Can you describe the friend?” she asked.

Hotel security footage showed Michiru, clutching a wine glass in one hand, unconscious and being dragged onto a luggage cart by a dark haired man in the hotel uniform and by a dark haired woman who was ambiguously teenage and wearing a black blouse, black knee-length skirt, black high stockings, black boots, black nailpolish and a pink rose over her heart which looked lost, but certainly stood out.

Haruka said, “Can you get a printout of that?”

After some tech fumbling, she and the desk lady got the footage sent to Detective Ami for analysis.  She also got the desk lady’s phone number, the address of a good chicken place, and the room number of Jewel Thief Michiru.  

And the advice to never eat at Francois’ near the Arc d’Triomphe.  Or however you spell it; Detective Haruka never sweats the details.

The elevator took her to the twenty-third floor and she made her way down the hallway to 2307.  She pulled out the keycard the clerk had given her and unlocked the door.

“I’m going to have to steal the crown jewels,” she heard Michiru say; she flattened herself against the wall inside the little atrium; to her right was the changing area and a hanging closet; beyond that was the bathroom; she pressed herself against the left-wall, then realized it left her visible, so she slipped into the hanging closet, where a half-dozen dresses were hung up.

The burgundy one was the best, but Haruka wasn’t sure if it really matched Jewel Thief Michiru’s hair.  As she contemplated high fashion, she heard a woman she did not know.  “I’m sure she’s coming.  The Fox told us that her plane arrived last night.”

“Then why didn’t she come to the hotel?” a despairing voice said from the bed.

“Why do you *want* her to find you, anyway?  You’re not the Riddler’s sister, right?” the woman asked.  “I need the money to get Father exorcised, but if I go to jail, I can’t help him!”

“What good is stealing things if there is no one to recognize my skill?��� Jewel Thief Michiru said.  “I am in this for the sport, to pit myself against the best.”

“Then why are you worried about this bozo?” the other woman asked.

“I am not a bozo!” Haruka said, coming out and throwing the finger of accusation at the other woman, who turned out to be the teenager from the photo, holding a short fighting staff.

Which she now flicked and it somehow extended into a glaive.

“Don’t bring a glaive to a gunfight,” Haruka said, drawing her gun.

“Now, now, Detective Haruka,” Jewel Thief Michiru said, getting up off the bed and striding closer, gracefully. “Point the gun at me and make empty threats.”

“They’re not empty!  I’ll shoot!” Haruka insisted.

“We both know you won’t shoot us,” Jewel Thief Michiru said, gliding closer. “Why didn’t you show up last night?”

“Jet lag,” Haruka grumbled.

Jewel Thief Michiru stopped, then said sympathetically, “I forgot to take that into account.  My apologies.” The other woman, still unnamed, frowned.  “Okay, what is *actually* up with you two?”  She had turned her glaive back into a staff and put it in her black purse.

“Oh yes, Haruka, this is my new assistant, Hotaru.  She’s a cyborg assassin from the future.”

“I’m not a cyborg *or* from the future,” Hotaru insisted.  She pinched her arm. “This time, anyway.”

“I’m from the future!,” another teenage girl said from the balcony; she wore what looked like a Star Trek uniform to Haruka.   But she was armed with something like a lightsaber.  The big heart on the end did make it stand out.

“No!  You’re going to ruin our sexy confrontation,” Michiru said angrily, pointing at her.   The glaive vs. Heartsaber battle began wrecking the hotel room, so Haruka said to Michiru, “How about if we check out this chicken place I know about until they’re done?”

“My plans… in ruins…”

Then the scented oils caught fire from a parried Heartsaber blow and the whole suite went up in flames.  Haruka picked up Michiru and ran.

***************

“So I got docked two weeks pay because Paris caught fire and it wasn’t even my fault,” Haruka groused to Usagi later as they ate okonomiyaki which Makoto had made them since they both had, as usual, no money.  

Makoto flopped down on the other end of the couch with her pork okonomiyaki and put on Netflix.  “Did they riot?”

“Don’t let the boss know or I’ll lose even more pay,” Haruka said, shaking her head.

“He doesn’t know I sunk Atlantis, either,” Usagi said conspiratorily into Haruka’s ear.  Then she began stuffing her face.

I thought *I* sunk Atlantis, Haruka thought.

Makoto would never ever tell them it was the result of her trying to date a brother and a sister at the same time without either finding out about the other.  Never, ever.

So don’t tell Haruka now that you know.

Iris Out.

[sparrowjaywrites]

Survive We Shall (Chapter 01: What Tomorrow Brings)

Disclaimer: All recognizable Characters, places, and plots belong to those who own the copyright for Walking Dead and Criminal Minds respectfully such as AMC and Robert Kirkman, I do not know all their names.

All new characters such as Kat, The Takers, and Kat’s original group belong to me. Please do not use them or my storyline without my permission.

Warnings:

           This story will contain foul language, nudity, sexual content, graphic violence, mentions of sexual assault, death, abuse, mentions of domestic abuse, partial depictions of sexual assault, depictions of domestic abuse, torture, suicide, depictions of suicidal thoughts, self-harm, PTSD, flash backs and much more.

           Each Chapter will have its own trigger warnings directly below this warning at the start please use these to protect yourself while you read. If there are any issues regarding this please PM me.

Standing Warnings for All Chapters: (These Warnings are used so frequently it is pointless to add them by specific chapter.

           Gore, Graphic Violence, Death, Swearing

Chapter Warnings:

           -See Standing Warnings Above-

AN:

           I started working on this story not long after season nine of Walking Dead started airing in October 2018. This story is technically a crossover between Walking Dead and Criminal Minds but the Criminal Minds characters do not actually come in besides a phone call in this chapter and mentions for at least the first 50 + chapters.

           This story is pre-written through chapter 7 and I will be posting two chapters a week for the time being. The story is structured into chapters with specific themes and story beats. Every chapter will start and end with a quote like an episode of Criminal Minds does.

          This story is also posted on my Fanfiction.net account: Creative Heart 1997, and on my A03 account: Kat_Jay_Sparrow

           With that all out of the way, enjoy the show!

Survive We Shall

Season One

Episode 01: What Tomorrow Brings

---Line Break---

           “And that’s the thing. The day before your whole life changes, forever, it feels just like any other day.” – Unknown

           Kat hummed as she walked around her kitchen making her dinner, roast beef, potatoes, onions, and gravy. Not the healthiest meal, but one of her favorites. For desert a slice of cheesecake. She’d spent the day watching shows on Netflix while working on her next book; the fourth and final instalment of the Silver Star Chronicles.

           ‘How’s the book coming?’ Kat glances at her phone reading the text from her older brother.

           ‘Good, how’s the case?’

           ‘Finished, we’re headed back to DC now. I can’t wait to sleep.’ Kat snorts at the sleeping emoji her brother adds to the end of the text. She’d recently convinced him to get a smart phone and he’d been attempting to use them whenever possible ever since.

           ‘Sleep well, Spence.’ She sends him a heart emoji and gets back to her food. Spencer lived in DC and worked for the FBI as a criminal profiler, a member of the Behavioral Analysis Unit or BAU. He’d been working there for over thirteen years now, over half of Kat’s life. She finishes her dinner settling in to finish bingeing Merlin again.

           Around six in the morning the ringing of her phone woke her. Kat blinks and rolls over with a groan ignoring the phone for a moment before sighing and picking it up.

           “Hello?”

           “Kat? Something’s happening, something bad. I need you to get to DC, as soon as you can. Pack what you want; you may not be home for a very long time. Please catch the next flight out!” Spencer’s terrified voice begs. Kat sits up in her bed putting her glasses on and glancing at her clock.

           “Spencer what’s going on?”

           “I’ll explain when you get here, just… get here.”

           “Okay, I’ll catch the next flight.” Kat agrees the fear in her brother’s voice scaring her. Spencer Reid did not scare easily, over a decade in the job he had made sure of that. So for him to sound so terrified was a bad sign.

           “Call me when you land, one of the team will pick you up. Oh, bring your gun. I love you, Katrina.”

           “I love your too, Spencer, see you in a few hours.” Kat hangs up the phone pausing to take a breath looking around her room. She takes a breath and stands rushing to pack. She grabs a duffle bag stuffing her gun and her ammo in it, she pauses before grabbing her bow locking it in its case and stuffing it and her arrows in her duffle bag as well. If she needed her gun it may come in handy, who knows, plus if she wasn’t coming back she’d want it with her. Rossi would let her practice on his property like when she was a teenager she was sure. She adds her pocket knife and Swiss army knives to the bag before dropping it by the top of the stairs.

           Next was her star trek messenger bag, her laptop, IPod, Nintendo Switch, IPad, and kindle went in there along with the cords, her spare headphones, and her phone cord. She added her sketch books, pencils, and notebooks. Her backpack was next, her favorite pictures being pulled from the walls and taken from their frames to be placed in a Ziploc baggy inside along with her favorite photo album, a Ziploc full of jewelry from her mom or members of Spencer’s team growing up, a small black stuffed cat Spencer had given her for her fifth birthday named Midnight, her high school diploma and Bachelor’s degree in creative writing, and finally the first printed copies of each of her books, seven in total.

           Last was her suit case where she tossed a few pairs of shoes, all her clean socks, underwear, and bras. A few jackets, a few pairs of jeans, shorts, t-shirts, long sleeved shirts, and tank tops. She tossed in her Harry Potter, Twilight, and Edgar Allen Poe books. Lastly she added her first aid kit, and her fifteen pairs of glasses. Kat had taken to owning a lot of different styles of glasses to go with her different outfits, something she’d picked up from Penelope a women who worked with her brother who’d been like an older sister to her since she’d met her.

           Kat pulls out her phone booking the next flight leaving for DC, frowning when the only one available before noon had a layover in Texas. She shakes her head booking the first class ticket and calling a cab. The last thing she wanted to do was leave her truck in airport parking if she didn’t know how long she’d be gone. It being the middle of the week SeaTac was surprisingly more busy than normal; the place was packed with people. Kat quickly got her boarding pass moving to check her bags, having flown with her gun enough times to know the drill.

           Kat got in line. After almost twenty minutes the woman checking bags took a call then shut down her station. Kat watched in confusion as all the terminal’s shut down. People began whispering around her.

           “Attention the state of Washington has just entered a state of emergency. Bags are no longer being checked, if we call your flight number please move to the front and you will be taken to your plane to board; please take your luggage with you. Security measures are being lifted. Thank you.”

           “What the fuck?” Kat mutters as people around her begin to panic.

           “Flight 354 to New York.” Kat watches as people join a worried looking flight attendant who leads them away a few minutes later. “Flight 356 to DC with layover in Houston?” Kat glances at her boarding pass then approaches the flight attendant who glances at her pass before nodding.

           “Uh, I have a gun and permit to carry. I normally check it, what do I do now?” Kat asks her before they head out.

           “It doesn’t matter, keep it on you. We’ve been told to just get everyone on the plane and out. The military showed up twenty minutes ago giving orders, apparently the whole country is under martial law.” The woman says as she begins leading Kat and around twenty others to their boarding gate. Kat shares a worried look with those around her. Before long they are all standing outside the gate, two soldiers stand by the doors asking people questions as they board, something about bites?

           “Ma’am has anyone attacked and or bitten or scratched you in the past twenty four hours?” Kat raises an eyebrow.

           “No… What’s going on?”

           “Please board the plane, Ma’am.” The soldier won’t look her in the eye, though she catches a look of fear before he looks away. Kat sighs but boards taking her seat. She puts her suitcase on the floor in front of the seat beside hers; knowing it won’t fit in the overhead or it was unlikely too and it certainly wouldn’t fit under the seat. She puts her messenger bag, backpack, and duffle bag on the seat with her purse on top. Kat leans her head into the aisle counting around thirty people seated in the normal section; two other people were seated in first class with her so far. Ten more people board before the doors are closed. Their where only around forty passengers it seemed, on a jet that would normally fit at least a hundred and fifty, probably more.

           “Attention passengers this is your captain speaking, please take your seats and prepare for takeoff, safety procedures will be explained once we are at cruising altitude, thank you.” Kat buckles her belt shooting a quick text to Spencer as they taxi onto the runway.

           ‘On plane, something is up, bags where not checked, they had me board with my luggage over an hour before the flight was to take off. They had me board without checking my gun even after I told them about it! They said something about martial law and a state of emergency. What is going on? We’re taking off without safety warnings, there where soldiers asking us if we’d been bitten or scratched as we boarded. I’ll text you once I have Wi-Fi and can.’

           Kat sits back in her seat staring out the window as they reach the runway; she leans over her bags to watch out the window as they take off. As they climb her view of the city widens, her stomach drops as she sees pillars of smoke rising from downtown, and what appear to be military helicopters flying that way. What the fuck was happening? Where they under attack?

           “Attention passengers this is your captain speaking, we have now reached cruising altitude, we should be reaching Houston in approximately four hours. Flight attendants will be by with drinks after they finish their safety instructions. Thank you for flying Alaska.” Kat shakes her head, why wasn’t anyone telling them anything?

           Three hours later a high pitched scream in the back of the plane dragged her attention away from her book. Kat spins around in her seat looking down her aisle along with most of the planes passengers, near the back of the plane two people had jumped up and pulled a woman from her seat. Kat unbuckles sprinting down the aisle to see a woman with what appeared to be a large bite out of the side of her shoulder. A deep guttural growling could be heard from her seat now that she was no longer screaming.

           Suddenly the woman tore herself from the men and dived back into the seat a moment later she was sitting on the floor of the aisle holding a small child in her arms as he struggled. The boy was clawing at his mother and clearly attempting to bite her again, it took Kat a moment to realize the inhuman growling was coming from the boy. One of the men leaned down to tried to pull the boy back; the boy turned his head to look at the man, Kat catching the blood smeared around the boy’s mouth even from where she was.

           “What the fuck!” The man attempts to jump back as the boy suddenly latches onto his arm and bites down viciously, tearing a chunk of skin and muscle from his arm, chewing then swallowing. Kat stumbles back in horror as people quickly back away from the boy and the now screaming man. The woman is trying to yell over the man, she pulls the boy back into her arms, trying to restrain him.

           A few seconds later the mother is dragged back from the child from behind by another passenger. As soon as she losses her grip the boy is up and stumbling down the aisle towards a woman who was leaning around the edge of her seat to look. She moves to pull back just as the boy reaches her sinking his teeth into her neck, her garbled scream joining the other horrified screams and yelling throughout the plane.

           The screams all cut off as if muted when the deafening crack of gunshot has all eyes moving from the boy to a man standing behind the mother in the aisle. Kat’s eyes flicker back to the boy… or more correctly the body of the boy lying only around fifteen feet in front of her. The woman he’d attacked was hanging out of her seat motionless, blood dripping onto the boy’s corpse.

           “NO! No, not my baby, no!” The mother shrieks. The man holding her back lets her go stumbling into the middle row of seats. The man with the gun lowers it looking a bit ill.

           “I’m Jacob Moore, air marshal.” He holds up his credentials, not that Kat could read them from where she was. “I’m sorry Ma’am but your boy was infected… I didn’t have a choice.”

           “Infected?” A man standing in the other aisle of the plane asks looking confused.

           “You… You killed my boy… my Bradley…” The mother shouts stumbling to her feet towards Moore.

           “How many of you saw the news this morning?” Three hands go up. Moore sighs running a hand through his hair. “There’s some kind of virus going around, once infected people die… they die and then they come back… they come back from the dead and eat people… like zombies, but real.” He explains his face completely serious.

           “Is that why the soldiers were asking us about bites?” A woman asks fearfully, a young toddler clutched in her arms.

           “Yes.”

           “You killed my boy!” The mother had approached Moore without anyone really noticing, or if they had they hadn’t said anything. She suddenly punches him dead in the face; snatching his gun from his belt she aims it at him as she backs herself into the row of seats behind her until her back hits the window.

           “Ma’am he was already dead, please drop the gun.” Moore pleads from his spot on the ground slowly standing up his hands held in front of him as blood trickles down his face. The woman glares at him then presses the gun against the plane window. Kat freezes in place as her eyes widen.

           “Your all with him, he killed my boy but your listening to him.” She mutters crazily. If she pulled that trigger the plane would depressurize and they would all die.

           “Ma’am please, you’ll kill us all, yourself included.” Moore pleads his eyes wide. Kat backs down the aisle until she reaches her seat, she glances at her stuff her eyes landing on her duffle bag… she had good aim… maybe? Kat slides into her seat and slips her gun from her duffle bag quickly checking it was loaded before standing up and slowly moving down the aisle of the plane. The woman was muttering to herself now, her finger firmly on the trigger. Kat keeps the gun at her side as she gets closer. She stops a few feet from the kid’s body not willing to get too close.

           Kat grabs a magazine from the seat beside her and waves it to get Moore’s attention he glances at her. She moves the gun so he can see it and nods to the woman. Moore stares at her for a moment then nods.

           “If you don’t drop the gun we won’t have a choice but to hurt you Ma’am.” Kat takes a breath raising the gun as the woman turns to look at Moore as he talks. She flicks off the safety and lines up the shot.

           “I’ll kill all of you! You killed my Bradley. Mommy’s coming baby.” She raises the gun to the window again. Kat pulls the trigger. The woman slumps to the ground, blood spraying the wall and seats behind her. Moore quickly moves forward retrieving his gun as people scream. Kat turns back on her safety lowering her gun as she stares at it… she just killed a woman.

           “Thank you, Miss, what’s your name?” Moore approaches her slowly; he steps over the boy placing a hand over hers on her gun. Kat looks up at his face blinking the world seeming to disappear around her, her vision tunneling to focus only on him and the gun in her hand.

           “Kat, er Katrina Reid.”

           “You did well, Kat. Why don’t we sit down, alright?” Moore takes the gun from her hand and leads her back to her seat… how did he know which was her seat? “Kat you need to breathe slower, follow my breathes… Kat?” Moore said something more but she couldn’t make it out as the world spun around her suddenly going dark.

---Line Break---

           Kat blinked, her eyes slowly adjusting to the light around her. Someone was patting her cheek; her eyes focus the memories of the last ten minutes coming back to her all at once. Moore smiles as she blinks up at him.

           “Welcome back, do you know where you are?” Kat nods sitting up straighter and looking around. She can hear people crying and talking throughout the plane. The two other first class passengers are both standing peering over at her from the middle row of seats.

           “I shot someone…” Kat whispers feeling like she was going to be sick.

           “You saved us.” A man with greying silvery short hair from first class speaks up.

           “You did.” Moore agrees.

           “Here you are Ma’am.” A flight attendant hands her a glass of water shakily. Kat takes it with a shaky nod of her own.

           “Where’d you learn to shoot like that?”

           “My brothers taught me… they’re FBI agents…” Kat says quietly.

           “I’m going to give you this back, please put it away.” Moore hands her, her gun. Kat puts it in her duffle bag zipping it closed.

           “Attention passengers, we would like to ask everyone in economy class in seats A and B to please move to seats behind row twenty and in front of row fifteen. Thank you. Please follow Air Marshal Moore and the Flight Attendants orders; we will hopefully be landing soon.” The captain comes on the intercom.

           “I’m going to go calm people down.” Moore pats her arm giving a nod to the other two people in first class before moving into the back of the plane. Kat sits in her seat staring at the seat in front of her sipping the water to keep from puking.

           “Attention passengers, I’m sorry to say we will not be landing in Houston… it seems the airport is not responding. We will be continuing directly to DC.” Kat turns to look at the silver haired man a few seats away from her.

           “That can’t be good.” He mutters with a shake of his head. Kat shakes her head mutely. The plane should hold enough fuel to make it to DC… but that was only if they’d been fully fueled before taking off, and with their rush to send planes out the chances of that where slim. Kat pulls out her phone connecting to the inflight Wi-Fi. A strange sound behind her catches her attention before she can dial. She turns around in her seat her face paling as she sees the woman the boy had bitten moving. The same guttural growls the boy had been making issuing from her lips as she attempts to reach for a woman a few seats in front of hers.

           “Moore!” Kat yells unbuckling quickly and jumping to her feet. Moore quickly runs into the first class slipping between the seats to move to her aisle from the other one.

           “What? What is it?” Kat points at the woman… or corpse. Its eyes where clouded, face pale from the blood lose from having the boy biting out its neck.

           “Oh shit, she was bit. Does anyone have a knife?” He calls looking around. Kat nods turning and quickly pulling her pocket knife from her bag and handing it to him.

           “How many weapons do you have?”

           “Five… gun, pocket knife, bow, and two Swiss army knives.” Kat answers with a shrug. “My brother called me panicked and said to get to DC that something was happening and to bring my gun… my brother doesn’t panic. So I brought my gun… plus some.” Kat was surprised by how calm she felt… she wasn’t sure if she was going back into shock or if her emotions where too overloaded at that point to work or what, but despite her fear she was calming down.

           “Well we’re all lucky you came prepared.” Moore snorts and moves swiftly up to the corpse. It grabs at his clothing while he grabs the top of its head forcing it’s face down against the armrest while he stabs it in the back of the head at the base of the skull. The corpse slumps down, dead… again.

           “The mother was bitten too… Will she… turn?” Kat asks not completely sure what word to use.

           “No you shot her in the head… what I saw on TV seemed to suggest that if you kill the brain these things stay dead.” Moore cleans off the knife with the woman’s shirt before handing it back to her. Kat stares at it before nodding slowly and putting it back in her bag. Kat sits back down picking back up her phone she quickly dials Spencer’s number.

           “Hello? Kat?”

           “Spencer, what the fuck is going on? The air marshal said there is some kind of virus going around… It kills people then they come back to life as some kind of fucked up zombie?”

           “He’s right.” Spencer says quietly his voice resigned.

           “I know he is! A kid bit a woman’s neck out; she just came back to fucking life!” Kat snaps.

           “What? Are you okay, did you get bit?” Spencer asks franticly.

           “Is that Kat? Why are you asking her that? What’s happening, Reid?” Kat can hear Morgan, one of her brother’s coworkers and their unofficial older brother ask.

           “No, I… I’m okay. We dealt with it… but the boy’s mother she lost it when Moore had to shoot him… She… she took his gun and was threatening to kill us… I.” Kat falls silent taking a breath. “She aimed it at the window; she would have killed everyone on board. I had to shoot her, Spence… I shot her, I killed someone.”

           “Oh god…” Spencer whispers clearly to himself, he takes a shaky breath. “Katrina listen to me, you did what you had to do. Okay? You didn’t have a choice. It will be okay.”

           “I… I know. But Spence what is this?” Kat asks blinking back tears as she tries to hold it together. She just wanted to be in DC already, to hug her big brother and pretend none of this had happened.

           “We don’t know. How long until you land?”

           “I don’t know we took off early then we were supposed to land for a layover in Houston but the pilot said the airport wasn’t responding so we’re coming straight to DC. I’m guessing at least two to four hours.”

           “The airport wasn’t responding?” Spencer asks his voice tense.

           “That’s what he said…” Kat frowns why hadn’t it responded… oh. It was gone; the airport was probably over run by those… those things. “Spence, how bad is this thing?”

           “It’s everywhere, all over the world. We’ve just been told to go home or to the refugee center the military is setting up downtown. Apparently both Seattle and New York have already been overrun.”

           “Seattle? That’s what the smoke was then… Chaos as those… things took over.”

           “Probably.” Kat frowns as Spencer’s voice crackles.

           “Spence? Your breaking up.”

           “I’m losing signal… the cell towers have been being over loaded… I’m… lose you. When you land get to Rossi’s.” Spencer’s voice gets more and more staticky as he talks.

           “Spence? Spencer?”

           “Get to Rossi’s, I love you…”

           “I love you too.” Kat says franticly as the connection gets worse.

           “Get… Rossi’s.” The call goes dead.

           “Spencer? Spencer?” Kat whispers desperately into the phone. She closes her eyes leaning her head against the seat in front of her. Get to Rossi’s… Get to Rossi’s… She could do that, couldn’t she?

           “Attention passengers please return to your seats and buckle up. We seem to be running low on fuel and will be making an emergency landing. Please prepare.” Kat bites her lip buckling in and wrapping the seat beside hers buckle through the handles of her bags hopefully to keep them from flying around and hitting her if things got too bumpy.

           Kat grips the arms of her seat as she stares out the plane window as they begin a rapid decent. Trees grow bigger as they fly very close over them until finally they touch down with a lot of jerks and bumps before finally coming to a stop in what appears to be a field.

           “We have landed safely somewhere in Georgia. Please remain seated. We will come and get you and your belongings row by row as soon as the emergency slide is in place.” Kat takes a shaky breath loosening her grip on the seat arms. She gathers her stuff, not planning to leave her stuff behind.

           “Ma’am your next. Please bring your stuff and make your way to where the captain is waiting.” The flight attendant who brought her water before motions her to go to the door. Kat makes her way over there.

           “You’re the one who shot the woman who had the gun right?” The captain asks. Kat nods. “Thank you. We will slide your luggage down to my co-pilot first then you, alright?”

           “Okay.” Kat slides one bag at a time down the slide then sits at the edge; she takes a breath and slides down, grateful for the helping hand of the co-pilot as she reaches the bottom. She takes her bags and moves to the side looking around. There was no way she was going to be able to lug all these bags all the way from middle of nowhere Georgia to DC.

           Within an hour the plane was empty, Moore and a few flight attendants lowering what food, water, blankets, pillows, and other useful items they found while searching the plane down before coming down themselves.

           “Now what do we do?” Someone yells.

           “Survive?” Moore suggests with a shrug.

           “Whatever this is, it’s everywhere.” Kat speaks up deciding to share what Spencer told her with the others. “They’re setting up a refugee center in downtown DC. It’s a ways but if we can make it there we may be safe? Or safe-ish…” Kat shakes her head with a frown.

           “And how do you know that?” A woman asks in a snide tone.

           “My brother is an FBI agent he lives in DC. I talked to him a few hours ago, he said this virus is everywhere all over the world. They sent the agents home or to the center.” Kat explains glaring at the woman.

           “Why should we listen to the murderer?” One man yells. Kat frowns and shakes her head turning to grab her bags.

           “She saved all our lives so you can shut your mouth!” Silver haired guy speaks up.

           “She shouldn’t have even had a gun on board!” A woman retorts.

           “I normally check it, as is the law, but they told me to just get on just like they did you, I told them I had it.” Kat snaps.

           “Enough! Look we’re on our own. Help isn’t coming. So we need to get moving. If there is a center in DC then there may be one in Atlanta. We should head there.” The co-pilot suggests. A few people nod.

           “My brother said both Seattle and New York where overrun who’s to say Atlanta isn’t either? I think DC is our best shot.” Kat argues.

           “And how exactly do you propose we get to DC? Walk?” Another man asks.

           “Yeah if we have to, just like how we’d get to Atlanta.” Kat points out.

           “I agree with Kat, we should head to DC.” Moore sides with her.

           “Well I ain’t going anywhere, when our plane doesn’t show up someone will come looking.” One woman says sitting down, a few people follow suit.

           “How about we split into groups, those going to Atlanta will go with Jeffery.” The captain motions to the co-pilot. “Those going to DC can go with me, Moore, and Kat. And those who want to stay can?” People nod seemingly liking that plan.

           “We’ll split the food and water evenly into three groups then split into groups.” Jeffery says people nod. The flight attendants, Jeffery, and the captain split up the food. The captain bringing a bag full over to Kat and Moore. Jeffery gives a bag to the people who clearly have decided to stay and takes the third with him.

           “Okay split into your groups.” Silver hair guy and the other first class passenger join Kat’s group along with three of the five flight attendants, the woman with the toddler, a teenager and a young girl, and two others.

           “Why don’t we all start with introducing ourselves?” The captain suggests. “I’m Daniel Blake.”

           “Jacob Moore.”

           “Katrina Reid, most people call me Kat.”

           “Johnathon Thomas, call me Tom.” Silver hair says.

           “Mia Jones.” The flight attendant who gave Kat the glass of water speaks up.

           “Olivia Charles.”

           “Tiffany Dunge.” The other two flight attendants speak up.

           “Tommy Myers.” The other man from first class says.

           “Matilda June, people call me Tilly, this is Lillian.” The woman with a toddler speaks up introducing the little girl in her arms.

           “I’m John Francis; this is my sister Taylor Francis.” The teen introduces himself and the little girl.

           “Isabella Johnson.”

           “Marcus Brown.” Kat surveys their group looking each person over closely.

           Daniel had short neatly cut black hair with a few streaks of grey, he was around fifty years old, with pale skin, and looked to be biracial half white, half Asian, around Kat’s height. Moore was younger nearer her age, maybe a few years older in his early thirties, he had curly brown hair cut short, inquisitive brown eyes, and pale skin with freckles sprinkled across his face, he was tall and lanky, probably over six foot, he reminded her of Spencer. Tom had silvery greying hair a silver beard with a slight mustache and a scar on his right cheek, tall about six foot.

           Mia had blonde hair, was shorter then Kat by an inch or two maybe five-five. Olivia had black very curly hair held close to her head by a tight bun, she was African American with a very dark complexion, a few freckles along her nose, she was around Kat’s height. Tiffany was Asian, very short around five foot with black long hair held in a ponytail and dark brown eyes. Tommy had bright red carrot orange hair, freckles across his face, and startling blue eyes, he was tall and lanky at around 6 foot.

           Tilly was young around Kat’s age, maybe a year older so around twenty-eight. She had dark brown hair like Kat’s and emerald green eyes; she was Kat’s height almost exactly so about five-seven. Lillian looked like her mom with curly brown hair pulled back into two pigtails she was about three with the same emerald green eyes.

           John was pale, around five-ten, clearly about sixteen or seventeen years old, he had long black hair that reached just past his shoulders, an earring in his left ear. Taylor had long wavy golden blonde hair pulled back in a braid like Kat’s, she had bright blue eyes and seemed to be around ten or eleven.

           Isabella was a bottle blonde with brown roots just starting to show, she was pale with hazel eyes, and was chewing gum. Marcus was the tallest well over six foot Kat guessed around six-five, he had brood shoulders, dark skin, and a shaved head.

           “Let’s see if we can find a house or road so we can figure out where we are and maybe find a map.” Daniel suggests. They all grab their bags and follow him. Kat lugs her bags after him, she was going to have to figure out a better solution to carrying her stuff and soon if she was going to make it to DC.

           “Now this is not the end. It is not even the beginning of the end. But it is, perhaps, the end of the beginning.” – Winston Churchill

---Line Break---

AN:

           I hope you all enjoyed! I’m looking forward to working on this story for a long time. I have plans to continue this far into the future possibly even reaching the time period the show is currently set it. Let me know what you think! Follow me to be notified when a new chapter is posted or to be notified when I post a new story or update my other current stories!

           Any kind of review that is nice even a Good Chapter or a smiley face is appreciated!

– Kat

[kiheons]

literally Brianna being so mean to Aquaria and denying her long enough that Aquaria cums untouched

Brianna's favorite thing is denying Aquaria for weeks while she's out of town. She's gone for 3 weeks, when she comes back Aquaria immediately tries to kiss her and Brianna is like nope you don't get to touch me at all. Aquaria is so surprised and Brianna tells Aquaria she's going out of town in about 2 days. Brianna literally makes a point to sleep in the guest room and walk naked around the house and Aquaria is not allowed to touch her and it's driving Aquaria crazy.

Brianna lounging on the couch and Aquaria tries to sit next to her but Brianna pointing to the other end of the couch. "sit over there." Aquaria looks like a kicked puppy as she just sulks on the other side of the couch. "Mommy..." Brianna has no mercy "no. You don't get to touch at all." Aquaria whining "mommy, what did I do? I'm sorry." Brianna cooing at her "oh sweetheart. Don't worry, you didn't do anything. This is for your own good." Aquaria has no idea what that means. She hates this, she hates being denied for this long. "Mommy can I please touch you?" Brianna like nope

Brianna leaving early the next morning and Aquaria sulking "can I at least kiss you goodbye?" Brianna hesitating cause honestly she really misses Aquaria's touch but she has an end game here. "No. You can wait. I'll be back in two weeks."

Aquaria hates this so much. They have a rule about Aquaria not touching herself while Brianna is out of town. They Skype a few days later and Aquaria is just a whiny mess. "Mommy why are you being so mean to me?" Brianna is still working as they talk. "I'm not being mean to you little girl. This is for your own good." Aquaria whining "what does that even mean? Mommy I don't know what that means." Brianna looking at her "Aquaria if you're going to complain I'm hanging up. I have better things to do than listen to you whine." Aquaria pouting but stops whining none the less.

They Skype a few days later and Aquaria is fucking desperate for anything from Brianna. "Mommy can I see you?" Brianna like Aquaria you're literally Skyping me "no, I mean like...." Brianna raising an eyebrow. "What do you mean? What, do you want to see Mommy naked? Do you want to see me touch myself." Aquaria nodding immediately "please mommy." Brianna smiling and for a second Aquaria is like maybe she'll actually let me have something. "Aww, sweetheart," Brianna's face changing and she glares at Aquaria "not happening" the call ends before Aquaria even has a chance to say anything back.

The next time they Skype Aquaria is clutching onto Brianna's pillow and whimpering. Brianna looks very very unimpressed. "You better not touch yourself. Aquaria I will be furious if you do." Aquaria moaning pathetically. "Mommy please!" Brianna has no mercy "if you dare, Aquaria, you'll have hell to pay." Aquaria is literally crying at this point "mama please, just once, please I need it" brianna holds strong. "No. It's not happening. Go to bed and I don't ever want to hear you complain about this again." Aquaria does what Brianna says but she's not at all happy about it.

When Brianna finally comes home Aquaria stands near the door and watches Brianna bring her luggage in. "Mommy can I-" Brianna doesn't even let her finish her sentence. "No. Whatever you want to ask for the answer is no." Aquaria can't do this. She hasn't touched Brianna in 5 weeks, even when Brianna was home. Brianna isn't giving her anything, if Brianna is gone for more than 3 weeks at a time she let's Aquaria touch herself at least once but this has been complete denial. "Mommy why?" Aquaria is whining. Brianna stops what she's doing and Aquaria's blood runs cold cause fuck, she fucked up, she knows Brianna hates it when she complains. "Aquaria what did I say about complaining?" Aquaria sobbing "mommy I'm sorry, please, I didn't mean it I promise" Brianna isn't having it. "I thought about giving you a reward for waiting so long but you clearly don't deserve it if you still have the mouth to complain."

Brianna going to bed and she's in the guest room again and Aquaria can't take this. It was bad when Brianna was gone but this is worse cause Brianna is right there, she's in the house with Aquaria and Aquaria is not fucking allowing to touch her at all. Aquaria literally spends the time when she's home staring at Brianna, hoping Brianna will throw her a bone but nothing. Brianna just straight up ignores her and Aquaria has no idea what Brianna is trying to do but this is pushing her to her limit.

Aquaria getting back from work and making herself coffee. Sipping at it when Brianna gets home. "Hi Mommy." Aquaria knows that Brianna won't give her any attention but she's gonna try. Brianna doesn't take off her heels, she just puts her bag down and goes to sit on the couch, scrolling through her phone. Aquaria is sure she'll be ignored again when Brianna says in the most bored voice ever. "Come here Aquaria."

Aquaria practically running to Brianna, she's pretty sure she knocked over her coffee cup but this is literally the most attention she's gotten in nearly 2 months and fuck she's gonna take it. Brianna makes it clear "that doesn't mean you get to touch me." Aquaria skidding to a stop in front of the carpet "yes mommy?" She sounds desperate and Brianna is trying not to smile cause Aquaria is literally like a puppy desperate for their owners attention. Brianna crooking one finger "Crawl to me." Aquaria doesn't even hesitate and Brianna could get used to this. "Kneel." Aquaria stopping in front of Brianna and Brianna finally looking at her and it's that look that Brianna gives people when she's going toe to toe with some of the most powerful people in the world and Aquaria has never had it directed towards her. This is the first time and fuck, Aquaria has never been this scared and turned on in her entire life.

Brianna smiling and Aquaria thinks she might die right here on Brianna's carpet because Brianna looks so fucking scary and hot at the same time and Aquaria hasn't touched her in 7 weeks. Brianna could probably hold a gun to Aquaria's head right now and Aquaria would still do everything Brianna says willingly. "You look scared, kitten." Aquaria trying to find her voice "I....Mommy I'm...." Brianna looks amused "its okay if you're scared. I've been mean to you these past few weeks, haven't I?" Aquaria doesn't know how to answer this. "I-its...mommy said it was for my own good." Brianna looks proud and fuck, Aquaria can barely think, she's so turned on she can feel herself throbbing. She hasn't touched herself in 7 weeks, she's sensitive and needy and would do anything for Brianna to touch her.

"Good girl. You remembered." Aquaria keening at the compliment alone. Brianna has only said a few things to her and none of them have been sexual but Aquaria is already halfway there. Brianna looks so powerful and Aquaria knows Brianna isn't even trying. "Why do you look like that?" Aquaria is thrown off guard "what?" Brianna sneering "like you're about to cum in your panties even though I haven't touched you at all." Brianna is not wrong. There's a part of Aquaria that seriously thinks she might be able to cum untouched if Brianna keeps doing this to her.

Aquaria whimpering "I'm sorry Mommy." Brianna looks disgusted. "You should be. That's filthy." Aquaria sobbing, fingers curling into the fluffy carpet. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry Mommy." Brianna hissing "shut up. Did you get permission to talk?" Aquaria shaking her head and Brianna like "exactly. So why are you talking? You talk when I say you can, you cum when i say you can. You do things when I allow you to because you're my property." Aquaria is going to lose her mind, she's so incredibly turned on and she feels over heated. Brianna is just straight up insulting her at this point but Aquaria loves it. "Do you understand that? You're my property, you belong to me. I decide what happens to you."

Aquaria knows she's crying at this point but she never wants this to stop. Brianna looks mad "stupid, disgusting little girl. Why are you crying? I haven't even done anything to you." Aquaria sobbing "mommy please...." Brianna looks even more pissed off. "Who gave you permission to talk?" Aquaria knows she looks gross, she's crying freely, she can feel her nose running but she stays still because she doesn't have permission to move. "I-Im sorry Mommy" Brianna leaning down, getting inches from Aquaria's face. This is the closest Aquaria has been to Brianna in seven fucking weeks, she's right there and Aquaria wants to touch her so bad. "I would fucking slap you for disobeying me but you don't deserve to touch me." Brianna's voice is low and dangerous and Aquaria is going to die here, isn't she. She won't survive this.

Aquaria trying to stop crying but it's not going well. Brianna looks genuinely disgusted and Aquaria knows there's something wrong with her cause she feels so humiliated, disgusting and scared but she's so fucking turned on that she can't think straight. Brianna hissing "look at you, you're fucking disgusting. Pathetic, nasty, little whore." Aquaria sobbing because Brianna is right, she's all those things. Brianna doesn't stop. "I'm sure youre wet. You're ruining your panties just by me telling you how much of a slut you are. Are you wet, baby?" Fuck, Brianna hasn't called her baby in weeks and Aquaria can't handle this. "Yes! I'm wet Mommy!"

"I'm sure that slutty little cunt is dripping. You're a needy whore Aquaria, you always have been. You'll do anything for me to touch you, won't you?" Aquaria sobbing, nodding rapidly. "You're a slut for pain too. I can pull your hair, slap you, spank you and you'll ask for more." Aquaria can't do this, Brianna hasnt touched her but she's close, fuck, Aquaria is going to cum like this. Brianna leaning back against the couch, sighing. "I want to hit you." Aquaria wailing "Please! Please, Mommy please, please, Mommy I'll do anything please!"

Brianna doesn't reprimand her for talking this time around. She just raises an eyebrow in amusement. "Are you begging me to hit you?" Aquaria nodding "please Mommy, please I want you to hurt me! Please, please please Mommy!" Aquaria is sure she's a sobbing, nasty mess right now and Brianna looks so fucking amused and Aquaria feels like nothing and she's right on the edge, she's going to cum like this. "You don't deserve something like that Aquaria. I'm not touching you. Disgusting, pathetic, nasty little slut. You're fucking filthy, you don't deserve to touch me, you don't deserve anything because you're my property and I decide what to do with you. I've decided that you're fucking disgusting and I won't touch you and I certainly won't touch your cunt." Aquaria knows she's going to cum, there's no way she's not going to, she's right there, she's so close.

Brianna clocks it right away. "you're going to cum all over yourself aren't you? Even though i haven't touched you at all." Aquaria curling her fingers into the carpet, crying heavily and nodding. Brianna sounds angry "that's so fucking disgusting, you're fucking disgusting Aquaria. Filthy vile little thing, about to cum just from me insulting you. You're nothing, you're worthless and I'm going to make you cum just like this." Aquaria is sobbing, shes so wet, she needs this so bad and fuck she's so close. The push she needs comes in the form of Brianna fucking spitting on her and Aquaria is gone. Practically topples over and screams into the carpet, it comes in waves and Aquaria can't breath, her vision has gone white and Brianna is still talking and Aquaria can't remember what happens next.

When Aquaria gets herself together she's still on the carpet. She's just laying there and Brianna is there next to her, petting her hair and fuck, Brianna's touch feels so good. Brianna leaning down and kissing Aquaria's cheek. Her voice is soft and kind, a total 180 from what she has just been "you did so good, sweetheart you did such a good job. I'm so proud of you, waiting so long and then enduring that. You're such a good girl, I don't deserve you, you're an angel." Aquaria knows she's crying again and Brianna kissing her tears "it's okay, don't cry baby. I'm right here, mommy is right here sweetheart." Aquaria trying to hug Brianna but her arms feel weak and everything is blurry with tears. Brianna hugging her instead, she's practically on top of Aquaria. Kissing her cheeks, ear, hair, pressing a kiss against Aquaria's lips. "Such a good girl, you're wonderful. I don't deserve you, you're too good for me. I love you so much Aquaria, I'm so incredibly proud of you." Aquaria can't do much but lie there and cry while Brianna praises her. She's so glad she gets to touch Brianna again after such a long time.

Aquaria doesn't remember a ton after that. It fades in and out. She remembers Brianna washing her hair, she remembers Brianna telling her to eat something before she sleeps. All Aquaria can think when Brianna tucks her in is that Brianna is in the same bed as her and Aquaria missed this so much. Brianna still kissing Aquaria, she's still showering her in praise. Aquaria wakes up the next morning and her knees hurt and her throat hurts. Stumbling into the kitchen and Brianna is already there. The coffee pot is going, Brianna has something on the stove and Aquaria just stands there awkwardly. Brianna notices her and she looks a lot softer than she did last night. No makeup, she's barefoot with an old ratty college shirt that Aquaria can't believe someone like Brianna owns. Shes wearing shorts and her hair is tied up in a loose bun that's falling out. She looks small and soft and Brianna crooking a finger "come here and kiss me, baby" and Aquaria doesn't hesitate.

[ronyxfic]

Educating the Victim - Act VI, Chapter XVI

Pairing: -

Rating: Mature

Warnings/Tags: Alcohol.

Read it on AO3! - Support us on Patreon!

Educating the Victim Masterpost

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CHAPTER 16: Departing

 Rose had somehow managed to be at the airport at exactly 4:30pm. She dragged her pink suitcase to Departures; Azure had said she'd meet them there.

 Marigold was already there, waiting with Azure. They spotted Rose just as Marigold was getting ready to complain about the time. Marigold looked more confident in her new suit. "You made it. Goodness, you look rough."

   "Please don't make me think about it," Rose said. "Where are we going?"

"The private part in the airport," Azure said. "You're taking my private plane. This way."

 "I'm rather excited." Marigold appeared rather jubilant as she looked for a direction. "Hm. There's no signs for it."

 “Is that a surprise to you? None of the rich people want randomers wandering into their part of the airport,” Azure said. “Myself included. Follow me.”

 "Ah, makes... sense." Marigold shot a look at Rose. "I take it we're not going to get time to hang out in departures. Shame. I love browsing through off duty."

 “You can if you want to. There’s access to the regular part of the airport. And we do have some time, since the tower won’t let you leave until about six.”

“Then why are we here so early?” Rose asked.

“Policy,” Azure said simply. “I am supposed to make sure all of the people flying on my plane are security checked and fully briefed, and apparently waiting around at airports is something rich people have to do as well.”

 "Huh." Marigold nodded, and then nudged Rose. "I'm up for it if one of you wants to come with me."

 “Absolutely,” Rose said immediately. “Azure?”

“I’ll wait for you. Hold your horses, though. We need to go through security – it’s not quite as hectic as regular airport security, but it’s a must. You don’t have anything dangerous on you, do you? – Not that they’ll care if you do, I tip them enough.”

 "I mean... you did say you might give us a gun, too." Marigold swallowed.

 “Keep that quiet while we’re still amongst the public, yeah?” Azure reached a door which had a grumpy-looking security guard posted by it. He recognised Azure and opened the door for them. “Here we go.”

 Marigold moved past and fond herself in a miniature private  baggage check. There didn't appear to be any guidelines. "Oh. I take it we can take bottles of water through, then."

 “Yes, the law is different for private planes. Still, you can do some damage if you hijack one of those, so a minimum of security is still necessary.”

Rose was silent, going through the motions. Took off her light jacket, put her keys into the tray.

 Marigold did the same and breezed through the detectors. No alarms.

"So, are you going to just stay in England, Azure?"

 Azure shot her a look. “I cancelled on the biggest gaming convention in the world because of health concerns. I’m not going to go on a wild goose chase in Italy. As much as I’d like to, this isn’t my battle to fight.”

  So, like usual, you're sending someone else to do your dirty work.

Marigold swallowed at the intrusive thought. No. She'd agreed to this. "You mentioned we'd be making a stop before we get to the destination."

 “You’ll get to the airport between nine and ten, local time, and you’ll be tired given how early I dragged you out of bed today. You have a room at the hotel there, and you can get whatever food or drink you want there. In the morning, you’ll get a rental and drive to your actual destination.”

 "Oh, that sounds pleasant! I haven't been in a hotel for years, goodness. Is it a travel lodge kind of thing, or?"

 “Oh, please.” Azure snorted. “It’s the Hilton.”

 "Oh!" Marigold gaped. "Goodness... I. Didn't expect you to go all out."

 “Marigold, darling, have you met me? As if I’d make you stay in a Travelodge wearing that new suit of yours.”

 "I just... like their breakfast buffet." Marigold looked awkward.

 “Oh, Mari, you are precious. The Hilton has a breakfast buffet. And it’s far superior.”

 "Good. That's all I care about, honestly." Marigold appeared satisfied. They passed into a quiet and stylish looking lounge. "Oh! Are we able to go for that quick shop?"

 “Please,” Rose said.

“Oh, sure. I’ll wait for you here.”

 "Alright!" Marigold beamed, putting her luggage down. "We'll see you in a bit!"

 Rose marched towards the shop, directly to the aisle with the alcohol. She didn’t look at Marigold as she selected three bottles of cheap spirits.

   Marigold shot a small glance as she picked up a foot long toblerone. "I also like to come here to buy things for friends."

 Rose snorted. “Friends. Yeah.” She eyed up the toblerone. “Chocolate. Good point.”

 "It's just so cheap here. " Marigold looked around. "I honestly enjoy browsing more than anything."

 “Huh. Are you getting anything?” Rose’s gaze drifted over the wines, the perfumes. She grabbed a huge bag of M&Ms. “Is there a pharmacy or something? Gonna need some painkillers.”

 "Not in here but I think there's an overpriced one on the second floor."

 “Alright. You can stay here, if you want, I’ll pay for these and go grab some.”

 "Alright." Marigold nodded, spraying some tester perfume. "Not quite done browsing, myself."

 --

 An hour later, they were about to get on the plane. Azure came on with them.

“Alright, all the safety stuff is the same as with regular flights,” she said, “oxygen masks, life jackets, yada yada, there will be a little video playing when you take off. Help yourself to drinks, if you want, I don’t employ attendants – the only ones here with you are my pilot and co-pilot.”

 "Oh, goodness. So it'll be incredibly private. Oh, thank you so much, Azure!" Marigold clapped her hands and tentatively extended them, looking around the room before offering a hug. "I know we're going out for you, but... All of this is just wonderful."

 “It’s no trouble at all. You are going there largely on my behalf, after all. It’s the least I can do.” Azure came in to give Marigold a gentle hug. “Be safe, now. There’s Interpol agents waiting for you on the other side. They’re not there to supervise you, only to ensure nobody interferes. You’ll be fine once you get out of the airport.”

She turned to Rose, who was still very quiet, a bag of duty free alcohol in her hands.

“You’ll be okay, Rose?”

Rose gave a wry smile. “Sure. It’s not like I have much of a choice.”

 "Oh, come on, girl." Marigold tired to give an encouraging look. "We'll be fine once we land and find our hotel rooms. You can probably get some kip early."

 Rose shot her an unreadable look, then went on board. “Fancy,” she muttered, seeing the inside of the plane before sitting down and putting on her seat belt.

“I’ll be off, then. Be safe, and please keep in touch.” Azure waved and stepped outside just as the plane’s engines started running.

 Marigold watched her back away from the plane as the engines began to overwhelm her hearing. She then turned back to look at Rose, a giddy look across her features.

 Rose avoided her gaze. “Azure said she had drinks in here?”

She spied the minibar and got up. “One sec. I bet she has some really nice stuff in there.”

 "Shouldn't you stay put until the seatbelt sign turns off?" Marigold sounded like a teacher on a school trip.

 Rose ignored her, opening the fridge and having a gander. “Oh, fancy. I thought so.” She pulled out a bottle and then got back in her seat. “Don’t be so stuck up, Principal Diamond. It’s like we’re going on holiday.” The grim sarcasm was obvious as Rose opened the bottle and took a swig. “To think I spent money on cheap airport alcohol.”

   Marigold frowned.

The edge in Rose's voice as she downed champagne was all too familiar.

She was escaping.

"What are you running from, Rose?"

 Rose gave her a cold look, unsmiling.

“Don’t.”

She took another gulp, and another. Before the plane had even started moving, the bottle was half empty.

 "Okay. Oh! I best put my phone onto airplane mode!" Marigold smiled forcefully. Her hand came to find it, but she then paused. She had neglected to look at it all day.

Her gaze widened. It was already in airplane mode. She remembered setting it so before seeing Azure to avoid being called.

In the second she turned it off she received several instant notifications that silenced when she tapped it back.

(3) Missed calls from Aurora.

She slumped back in her seat as she realised she’d received a novel of worried texts.

Oh.

 < align="center"p>

 Rose was too busy drinking to notice anything off about Marigold. “Want any?” she said, offering the bottle.

 Marigold was almost tempted for a brief second. "No, thank you."

 “More for me.” Rose finished the bottle. “I’m going to have a nap.”

The speakers rustled, and a cheerful voice could be heard.

“Good evening, ladies! This is Bob, your captain for this flight. We’re about to take off, so please put your phones in airplane mode and make sure your seat belts are securely fastened. I’ll give you more infos as we approach Florence, but for now, have a nice flight!”

 Marigold watched the plane take off, the houses and streets of London turning toy sized, and then perhaps ant sized. She wondered what it would be like to be this big, this tall, and decided for a brief second that perhaps she'd like it.

She found herself a cosy position and tried to rest. Perhaps it would all be over soon.