#ignore the dot please. i mean its bad in general but i did not notice it until now and im going insane

[polliwoggers]

big things coming

[writertitan]

Regimens

pairing: levi x reader

word count: 2834

themes: modern au, established relationship vibes, just so much fluff, it’s ridiculous how cute i tried to make this

requested by anon

“No.”

“Levi, please-”

“No.” 

With a huff, you set down the brush you liked to use to apply your clay masks, and internally debated if a pout and some more pleading would entice Levi into just giving in and letting you do your skincare routine on him. You had no idea why he was so against the idea; if anything, Levi loved taking care of himself. Sometimes, he was a little too high maintenance. You’d been so convinced he would actually like joining in on your skincare routine. On your own face, the clay mask was already coated on with a fuzzy headband keeping your hair out of it. You’d gotten the idea to also try to get Levi in on it, but to no avail. 

You tried again, after deciding that it would do some good to bring out the pout. 

“Levi, I swear you’ll like it-”

“I’m not gonna let you put mud on my face, idiot,” he deadpanned, and you whined. 

“It’s not mud! And it’s good for your skin!” 

“Not doing it.” 

“Ugh!” you cried out and slumped back against your couch, crossing your arms over your chest. Clearly, he was being stubborn. But you could negotiate. You brought your legs up onto the couch and nudged his thigh with your foot gently, frowning when he refused to look at you and instead kept his gaze on the TV. 

“Fine, no clay mask. How about a sheet mask? And then my usual routine?” 

“All of that skincare shit you buy doesn’t even work,” Levi said bluntly, finally peeking at you out of the corner of his eye. “It just smells good. You’re better off being smart like me and buying generic lotion that works just fine instead of wasting money buying a million different things.” 

“Let me prove you wrong,” you challenged, a gleam in your eye as you lifted your chin defiantly. “Your 3-in-1 shit is abysmal.” 

“It’s abysmal that you think I would stoop so low as to buy 3-in-1 anything,” Levi scoffed. “I just don’t throw my money at retinas or whatever the fuck you’re buying.” 

“Retinol,” you corrected. 

Levi groaned, eyes fully on you now. “It’s kind of insulting, y’know. Are you saying I have bad skin or something? Because it looks and feels fine to me.” 

“You have great skin, I just want to show you how I can make it positively glow,” you crowed, trying your best to really sell the experience. You pouted again when Levi stayed quiet, foot prodding against his thigh once more. “Plus, it would be really fun and would mean a lot to me, to let me fuck around with your face for the night.” 

The resigned look in his eyes and the sigh he let out told you that you’d won, and you squealed in victory before you leaned in to give him a grateful little peck on the lips. 

“Okay, I’ll be right back! I’m gonna use my best stuff on you!” In a flash you were gone, leaving a slightly bewildered Levi on the couch as you rummaged through your collection of skincare. It wasn’t the biggest collection by any means, nor was it very fancy, but you had a little routine going and liked the products you did have. 

You settled on the sheet mask for Levi, a new toner you’d been liking, your favorite serum, and your go-to moisturizer. A simple night routine, not wanting to push Levi too far by going all out with a more elaborate regimen. Especially when you were going to force one of your fuzzy headbands upon him. When you returned with your arms full of product, Levi gave you a look that screamed, Good lord what have I gotten myself into?

You spread the products out on the coffee table and then waved your fuzzy headband in his face, which made his eyes flash instantly. He was about to vehemently protest, you could tell, but you were already whining, and about to make a very good case. 

“Just do it, Levi! I wouldn’t want to mess up your precious hair.” 

At that, Levi simmered down, but there was no shortage of grumbling as you put the headband on him to secure his hair out of his face. 

“Okay, since it’s nighttime, this is more of a night routine-”

“You have a day routine and a night routine?” Levi asked, his tone slightly disbelieving, slightly condescending. 

You nodded once, not the least bit bothered, and continued explaining. “Since this is a night routine, it’s more about prevention and repair. I’m gonna use the toner first, to prep you for everything else.” You grabbed a cotton ball and carefully dotted some drops of toner into it, bringing it up to Levi’s face. Slowly, you dabbed the product into his face, ignoring the very steely gaze that was searing into your face. Still, Levi remained quiet and let you do all the work, his eyes on your face the entire time. You, on the other hand, morphed your expression into one of concentration, but you were careful not to make too much facial movement - your mask was slowly stiffening up and you didn’t want it to crack. 

You ripped open the package of the sheet mask, gingerly pressing it onto Levi’s face. He winced at the slight cold of it, but otherwise stayed still as you adjusted it on his face. It took everything in you not to grin at this new imagery of your boyfriend; wearing a fuzzy headband, sheet mask on, a lethal stare in his eyes...he looked absolutely precious. 

After ensuring Levi’s mask was in place, you snuggled into his side, busy on your phone while you looked at your timer. You’d set one for 20 minutes after applying your mask, and there were about 15 minutes left - still a good amount of time to let his mask do its work. 

“We’re gonna leave these on for about 15 minutes,” you explained, setting your phone aside to watch whatever movie Levi was watching. “Then we’ll take them off, rub the excess product into our faces to let it absorb, and then we’ll do the rest.” 

“You’re gonna make me wear this stupid headband for 15 minutes?” 

“Nope.” 

“Good.” 

“I’m gonna make you wear it for longer. This is only the first step in getting your skin fresh and radiant.” 

If you were anyone else in the world, you’d probably be dead. Good thing Levi was in love with you. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Levi reach a hand up and pat his masked cheek, a noticeable grimace appearing on his face. 

“It’s slimy.” 

“Stop complaining,” you said, turning to him fully. He did the same, immediately snorting at the sight of you. 

“Your mask is drying,” he pointed out, a hint of a smirk appearing. “You look kind of terrifying.”

You knew if you quipped back about how he looked, it’d be the end of this little experiment and he wouldn’t be so keen to participate anymore. So, you bit your tongue and made a noncommittal grunt, relaxing into Levi’s body while you watched the (kind of boring) movie. After a handful of minutes, you grabbed your phone and opened your camera app, attempting to capture a selfie of you two. Levi immediately caught on and moved out of the way, shielding his face with a hand. 

“There’s no chance in hell I’m gonna let you document this,” he said, shooting you a warning glance. You huffed and, in your own stubbornness, took a picture of yourself with Levi in the background, hand obscuring his face. It was better than nothing, and you settled back into him, smirking when he wrapped a tentative arm around your shoulder. 

Levi sighed in relief when the timer on your phone went off, and raised a hand to ruffle your hair before you stood. The clay was uncomfortable on your face now and you gave Levi a look as much as you could through the stiff case. 

“Come to the bathroom with me. I’ll wash this off and I’ll show you what to do, okay?”

“What, I can’t just take this off?” Levi asked, following you anyway. You tried your best to be quick with taking off your mask but, as always, rinsing it all off properly took a bit of time. Levi practically tore his sheet mask off and threw it away as you patted your face dry, and you rolled your eyes at him. 

“You have to pat the excess product into your face so it absorbs,” you told him, and Levi wrinkled his nose. 

“It’s slimy.” He voiced his complaint from earlier and you resisted the urge to roll your eyes yet again, but stepped forward to do it for him. 

Instantly, Levi’s eyes closed as your fingertips worked the product into Levi’s skin, very gentle with your actions; you were basically treating him to a mini facial massage. In truth, you were also fully taking advantage of the opportunity to touch him like this, slow and gentle in the way your fingers brushed over his forehead, his cheekbones, his jawline. 

“There,” you whispered, pulling away and wiping off your face. “We’ll let that settle in.” 

Levi grunted but followed you back to your previous place on the couch, and now you were absolutely animated. Once his face was mostly dry, you got to work and grabbed your favorite serum, applying an appropriate amount to your fingers and rubbing them together before pressing them into Levi’s skin again. 

“This is serum. It’s kind of like the sheet mask, but this one you use more often. Face masks aren’t for daily use. This one’s my favorite and really evens out my skin tone and helps keep my skin hydrated overnight, especially because you’re supposed to apply before moisturizer to lock it all in, so to speak.” You were mostly rambling, just wanting to keep Levi in the loop to keep his complaining at bay, but he was genuinely listening, which made you smile. 

Again, you were pulled into a state of concentration as you blended the serum into Levi’s skin, a smug little smirk playing at your lips when you saw his eyes close and felt him lean into your touch. You made sure to keep your touch steady and soft, taking your time with him as he let you map out his features with your hands. 

“This one’s not slimy,” was all he said, eyes still closed. You rubbed soothing circles into his temples, your eyes glancing over his now fully relaxed face. Giving into temptation, you settled into Levi’s lap, which he allowed with no fuss, and you leaned in to press a slow kiss to his mouth as your fingers traced along his jaw, beckoning him closer. He was happy to return your kiss, hands lazily at your hips to keep you in place, and you pulled away too soon to give him a bright smile, already shifting in his lap to turn towards the final step: moisturizer. 

Levi’s lips chased you in frustration, latching onto your neck as you applied some moisturizer to your fingers. Pulling away from him, his mouth broke free and he frowned at you for interrupting him, but you needed to gain access to his face again. 

“One more thing,” you told him, hands already applying the layer of moisturizer and working it into his skin softly, touch still feathery but deliberate. 

“Smells good.” The first compliment he’d given regarding your skincare routine, and you happily accepted it. 

Once you were done, you leaned back in his lap to examine your work. Breaking into a grin, you nodded once in satisfaction and cupped Levi’s face in your hands. “I knew it. Your skin is luminous, luminous I tell you!” 

Levi scoffed but, to your complete joy, offered a smirk and leaned in to kiss you again, this time short and sweet. You picked up the hand mirror you had brought along and gave it to him, your cocky attitude still present as he examined his face in the mirror. 

“See, what’d I tell you? My stuff does make a difference,” you declared, very much milking the moment. Your head definitely got a little bigger seeing Levi study his face with a little bit of surprise, tilting his head this way and that. 

“You did good, kid,” he finally said, making you beam at the final judgement he’d given. 

“Thanks for letting me do it,” you replied, swiveling around in his lap so your back could press into his chest. You turned your head to press kisses across his cheek, shocked when he pulled away and gave you a stern look. 

“You just did all that to my skin, don’t mess it up,” he said, and you honestly couldn’t tell if he was joking or not. 

“Levi,” you whined, leaning in again, but he pulled away even more, this time with a smirk on his face. To placate you, he turned his head and pressed a full kiss to your lips, which you happily accepted, and you sighed happily into it before pulling away. Levi pressed a short kiss to your forehead and grabbed a throw blanket on the arm of the couch to toss over the two of you, settling into your movie night. 

The screen turned black for a moment and you gazed at your reflections, and your eyes widened for a moment before you turned to look at your boyfriend again. 

“You can take the headband off now,” you reminded him. 

Levi only grunted in response. You said nothing and bit back your smile. 

He didn’t take it off until you took yours off, right before bed. 

-- 

Two days later, and you had made plans to spend the night at Levi’s place this time. There was no need to stop by your place beforehand; at this point, you had essentials over there too, and were looking forward to an evening of unwinding with some wine and whatever Levi had cooked up in the kitchen after your long day. It was a shame that the one thing you didn’t have at Levi’s was a dedicated skincare kit, so you could relax with a mask on and pamper yourself just a little. Only the travel-sized stuff you brought in your purse would be used tonight. 

Picking out the key Levi had given you to his place out of the jumble of them on your keyring, you pushed it into the lock and turned, giving a half-hearted knock as you stepped in. 

“Hi, I’m here!” you called into the apartment, eyes immediately finding Levi in the kitchen, back turned to you as he tended to something on the stove. 

“Hey,” he greeted you, not turning around. You didn’t notice the way he paused for a moment. “You’re here early. Wasn’t expecting you for another half hour.” 

“Yeah, I finished up early. It was a long day,” you sighed, fully about to start into a summary of your day. But first, you were needing a hello kiss, and walked over to Levi nonchalantly after taking off your shoes and coat to go and get it. You set down your bag on the counter and wrapped your arms around Levi’s lean torso, pressing a kiss to his shoulder, then tried to make him turn for a real kiss. “You wouldn’t believe -- oh my god.” 

You never thought you’d see the day. 

“What?” Levi asked, annoyed. Clearly pretending that he wasn’t standing in front of you, a sheet mask on his face, fuzzy headband perfectly in place. This headband was black, however, and you were positive you didn’t own a black one. 

“Nothing, but that better not be one of my masks,” you said, a giggle threatening to burst through at any moment. You knew it. You’d sucked Levi into the world of skincare. There was no telling if this was going to be good or bad. 

And, of course, you couldn’t help the little jab of, “Nice headband.” 

“It was the only kind they had,” Levi quipped a little too quickly, and the giggle that you’d been fighting off escaped your throat, earning you a hard glare. “Don’t start being a brat about this.” 

“I like it,” you told him honestly, hands up in surrender. You snuck a quick kiss to his lips and let him get back to his cooking, while you sauntered to the bathroom to freshen up before dinner. 

When you walked in to see the new arrangement of skincare products, all of them the same as the ones you’d used on him just a couple of days ago, you softened and couldn’t help the grin that seemed permanently etched on your face. You grabbed the box of sheet masks excitedly, poking your head out of the door. 

“Hey, I know I basically said you couldn’t steal my sheet masks, but can I steal one of yours?” 

[missskzbiased]

Can I Have This Dance?

Genre: Fluff, Romance, Oneshot, Drabble, Established Relationship! au

Pairing: Lee Minho x Fem! Reader

Word Count: ~2,0K [I did my best to keep it short, I swear]

Notes: The third fanfic for the Valentine’s request [That you can find here]

Coco anon, I’m sorry Ç.Ç I tried my best to finish Felix’s today so I could post it before but I failed lol. I finished Minho yesterday, and I had the idea for yours right after T^T But it’ll be the next one!

Chan ||  Minho || Changbin || Hyunjin || Han || Felix || Seungmin || Jeongin

Masterlist

Warnings: I don’t know. Mentions of food? And a ‘joke’ on nudity?

Requested: Yes, by  @bythesunnotbythemoon [ I tried my best to give you a soft Minho! I hope you like it]

General Tag List: @channiewoo @aliceu

[If you wish to be tagged to the other Valentine’s requests, please send me an ask <3]

                                                          ////

    You threw your feet over the coffee table, rubbing them to warm you up.

    The door creaked as Minho opened it, revealing his confused face and a bunch of bags hanging on his arms. You straighten yourself, sitting on the couch properly and tilting your head as you stared at him curiously, studying his outfit carefully before landing your eyes on his. He was too dressed up to stay home, you noticed. He placed the bags on the floor, crossing his arms and mimicking your antics as he looked at you from head to toes.

    “Why are you dressed like this?” His tone didn’t hold any judgment, but it was clear that he couldn’t understand what was going on, utterly bewildered by what he was witnessing.

    You frowned, confused by what he meant. You were wearing your fuzzy socks on top of your pants ─ assuring a bit extra warmth to your legs ─, a worn-out hoodie giving you no shape at all as you made yourself the best definition of a couch potato. Even though you weren’t fancy, Minho had already seen you like this about thousands of times, and he never complained about it before.

    “What? Were you expecting me to be naked or something?” You scoffed, getting a snort out of him. He rolled his eyes, coming inside and locking the door behind him before walking your way to give you a forehead kiss. You narrowed your eyes at him, suspicious of his sudden loving behavior “What is it? Why are you kissing me?” You inquired, and he whined, annoyed at your question.

    “What? Can’t I kiss my girlfriend when I feel like it?” He furrowed his brows, upset by your antics “You make it sound like I never kiss you” He nagged, voice intending to be low enough for you to not understand him, but you got it anyway, chuckling at his almost imperceptibly pouting.

    You got up off the couch, arms going to entangle his neck and oblige him to look at you. He stared at your eyes, trying to maintain a cold façade but failing when you leaned to peck his lips, smiling at him softly. He rolled his eyes to the sky, staring at the ceiling for a few seconds before sighing. You watched his eyes glinting, lips quivering to fight back a smile before he leaned to kiss you again, wrapping your body into his arms as he rested his forehead on yours, closing his eyes to let the cozy feeling sink into his soul.

    “Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that” You chuckled “It’s just that you came into my house asking about my clothes and full of bags…” You nuzzled his nose, getting a soft smile from him “What is it all about? Did you finally kill Seungmin? Are we going to run away from the cops? Should I pack my stuff?” You kept asking hurriedly, holding back your laughter as he rolled his eyes and shook his head in disbelief, moving yours along with his since you were attached.

    “Seungmin is safe and sound… For now” He promised, chuckling at his own joke “I’m full of bags and wanting you to dress up because it’s Valentine’s Day, kitten” He explained, and you shot your eyes up in surprise, disconnecting your head for a second “Did you forget it?” He asked amusedly, looking at you with twinkling eyes that made him resemble a playful cat.

    No, you didn’t forget it.

    The thing was that you had never ever imagined that Minho would like to make something special for Valentine’s. Of course, Minho was a caring and loving boyfriend, but he was also really bad at expressing it comfortably, so you just assumed he would want to keep it casual. Why would you dress up if you thought you were going to have a chill Netflix evening? You tilted your head, frowning as you watched him studying you, blissful about your dumbfoundedness.

    “So we’re going out?” You asked just to be sure; clearly wary about the revelation “I thought we were going to stay home… You know? Watching High School Musical for the hundredth time…” You stressed your words to sound persuasive, blinking repeatedly as you interlocked your fingers and tried to look charming. He gave a flick on your nose, enticing a whine from you that made him chuckle as he made his way to the bags, throwing you a look over his shoulder.

    His mysterious smirk morphed into a wide grin.

    “Dress up nicely and come upstairs” He asked, choosing not to reveal anything “I’ll fix everything around and wait for you there” He added, picking up the bags before opening the door “You’ll like it, I promise you” He decided to reassure you, throwing one more look at you before getting out from your apartment.

    What the hell? Did he think he was Blue to throw clues around the place?

    You couldn’t lie, though… You were beaming.

     The excitement crept into your body, making you giggle, bouncing like a child as you rushed to your room, mindlessly looking for some clothes that could match his outfit and yet warm you up properly. You clumsily got rid of your clothes, jumping on one foot as you tried to take off too many pieces per second but still managing to do so, throwing each piece over your body with newfound coordination. You checked yourself on the mirror, nodding in approval before rushing to the door and then upstairs.

    You gasped, gobsmacked as soon as you stepped into the Terrace.

    Minho smiled at you, spreading his arms and twisting his body from one way to another, as to show you all of his set up. The darkness of the night was nothing compared to the dozens of the small lights ─ all of them connected by a braided wire that hung around all the place ─ offering faint dots that made everything seem too charming. You watched everything with your mouth agape, following the lights that crossed the roofless ceiling in a zigzag, casting their glow on the countless flowers and bushes that your neighbors grew up here.

    “Wow” You blurted, blinking as if to check if it wasn’t all in your head, still looking around the place to admire all of his work “This is beautiful, Minho” You said breathlessly, taking your time to reach the table at the center, swiveling your head as you wandered around. You carefully caressed the tablecloth, fingers tracing its way on the fabric, feeling every rough yet silky inch under your touch, and then bumping into one of the snacks on the table.

     It didn’t go unnoticed how he chooses to plaster all of your favorites over it.

    You chortled ─ more like choked in all of the emotions that flooded your chest ─, pressing your palms against your eyes as you tried to stop the tears to roll down your face, feeling silly all of sudden. Why the hell were you crying over some snacks on a fancy table? You snorted, finding it amusing how you couldn’t help but keep wiping your tears away just to the realization of how much thought he had put into it.

    “I loved it” You muttered, trying to recompose yourself as you turned around to meet his gaze. He smiled fondly at you, and he didn’t even seem up to laugh at your face as he raised his hand, holding some kind of controller in the air and staying still, as if to build the tension up. When he finally clicked the button, a calm song began to fill the place, coming from the speakers he placed around.

   You couldn’t believe it.

  Minho walked slowly to you, hand extended for you to take, a proud smile plastered on his face as you pouted, lips quivering until you gave up on holding back your tears and allowing your face to twist on a frown. You weren’t exactly a beautiful crier, so the fact that Minho kept looking at you with nothing but love in his eyes ─ ignoring completely the way your eyes quickly swelled along with your nose ─, spoke volumes to you. He stopped right in front of you, soft eyes studying your face and waiting for his cue.

    “Take my hand” He sang along with the song, holding your hand gently “Take a breath” He continued, chuckling as his thumb made its way to wipe away your tears, cupping your cheek and engulfing you in his warmth “Pull me close and take one step” He slid his hand to your waist, following the instructions and pulling you impossibly closely to his chest, “Keep your eyes… Locked on mine” You stared straight into his eyes, feeling all the air vanishing from your lungs as he seemed to be capable of reaching the deepest parts of your soul with his gaze “And let the music be your guide” He sighed, feeling at peace.

    Minho closed his eyes, resting his forehead on yours as he slowly rocked your bodies side to side, forgetting all about his perfect dance moves and how he could twirl you around and around in an endless blissful spin. He enjoyed the intimacy, drowning himself in it as he took a deep breath. It felt like he was taking all of you in. As if you were the air he needed to breathe and be alive. The surroundings melted away, leaving only you and him together, lost in the time and the music, and fully registering each other’s presence in your mind.

    Your inebriating smell. Your heavy breath. Your rhythmic heartbeats.

    Your comforting warmth. Your familiar shape. Your caring touch.

    He was all about you and you were all about him, all over each other as the music changed its cadence and prompted him to open his eyes, twirling your around once before pulling you closer again, gently guiding you around the place. You played with his locks, giggling when he purred under your touch, softly leaning his head on your hands as if to ask for some more, closing his eyes for a brief second, and inhaling deeply. He moved his hand away from your waist, cupping your face as he leaned in for a kiss, completely ignoring his plans to dance with you throughout the whole song.

    Somewhere inside your head, you were fully aware that both of you were standing still on the Terrace, kissing each other as you had done hundreds of times already. As cheesy as it was, though, this time you felt like you were floating. The feeling was completely new to you, making you light-headed as everything seemed to spin around you, turmoiling something inside your chest that you didn’t notice before.

    The way his lips moved against yours set you aflame.  

  The passionate grip he had on your skin made you feel wanted and needed.

    The way your stomach twisted and burnt got you nervous.

    You couldn’t help but look at him in a whole new light when both of you broke away your contact, diving in each other’s eyes and taking in the new feeling that burbled inside your chest. It felt right. There was no mistake for you. No wronging. No doubt. It felt just right. As if you fitted as one all along the way, and yet there were two of you to shape it. You felt like home. You felt like you found all the answers that you didn’t even know you were looking for. You felt found yet you were finding him.

    You felt whole.

    You felt loved.

    You felt love.

    “I love you” You said in unison.

    The first time any of you ever dared to say it out loud.

    “I love you” Both of you repeated again, as to answer the previous statement, and chuckling as you stumbled over each other’s word. The next kiss you shared tasted like a whole new one, more as a dance between your tongues than a battle. A dance to a song that you hoped that never end, very different from the one that finally reached its last note.

[virtueangel]

limitless.

chapter nine.

wc: 2,350. original publish date: october 19, 2020. 

The morning fog is crisp against the windows of the car, condensation bubbling against the glass.

"Do you actually have a plan, or are we just driving willy-nilly?"

JFK grins at his reflection in the rearview mirror. "I have a plan!"

Van Gogh glares at the boy playfully.

"Okay, that plan might involve driving willy-nilly."

"Well, I guess that's still technically a plan..." Vincent laughs. And then, "Wait, I actually have a legitimate idea."

"No you don't," Kennedy jokes.

This earns him another glare from his best friend. "Did you see the general store when we first drove in?"

JFK nods. "You think they'd have stuff there?"

Vincent shrugs. "It's worth a shot. I mean... someone's gotta be living in this town, right?"

"Well, they don't have to do anything. It really could just be abandoned."

"So why are the roads so fresh?"

"Fresh?"

Gogh rolls his eyes impatiently. "You know what I mean. Clean. Maintained."

JFK goes silent, and at first Van Gogh worries that he's been too pushy, too pretentious, but Kennedy is only thinking.

"Maybe there's a groundskeeper," he suggests, and Vincent looks up at him with knit brows.

"One, for a whole town?" He sits back in his seat. "That hardly seems feasible."

John shrugs, keeping his eyes on what he can see of the road. "The wear in the houses is... I don't know. Formulaic, I guess is the word."

Vincent raises an eyebrow at the boy. "Maybe you mean fabricated?"

JFK nods eagerly. "Yes! Fabricated! That's exactly the word!"

Van Gogh snorts. "What, like someone built this hellhole to look the way it does?"

"It doesn't sound ridiculous coming from your mouth."

"Maybe not, but it would sound ridiculous coming from yours."

Kennedy shoves the boy playfully. "Asshole."

Vincent shoves him back, but doesn't throw an insult.

The boys drive in pleasant silence for a few moments longer, both sitting contentedly in their pyjamas, the seat heaters turned up to high. The windows are fogged over and Van Gogh draws a smiley face with his finger, dotting the eyes so firmly his bent finger turns yellow.

"You know that won't come off without, like, Windex or something, right?"

Vincent flashes his most innocent smile. "Oops."

JFK grins without looking at the boy, and Gogh's breath catches at the sight of his Colgate-white teeth.

"We're here," Kennedy says not a minute later, the low rumble of the car engine ceasing. He and Van Gogh unbuckle their seatbelts at the same time; they seem always to be in unison.

The wooden porch is wet and soft, lichen eating away at it. The door is hanging lopsided off the hinges, but only just enough; there's nothing wrong with the hardware.

"Looks like someone hung it like that on purpose," Vincent mutters as he walks through the door.

JFK turns around, his lips parting in satisfaction. "Told you."

"No, John, you did not 'tell me' anything. This is one bang-up job. Next you're gonna say someone planted the lichen on the porch?"

Kennedy lengthens his gaze to the deck. "It's possible."

Van Gogh rolls his eyes. "You're incorrigible."

"And you're fastidious."

"That's not even how you use that word!"

"Fastidious!" JFK insists.

The boys bicker all the way through the store, picking whatever looks edible off the shelves. Vincent checks a few expiration dates, and most of the refrigerated items have gone bad, but the shelved items are still safe to eat. He makes JFK carry it all, and to his pleasant surprise, the boy doesn't protest.

"Are we just supposed to steal all of this?" Gogh asks, concern washing over his face.

"There's no cashier."

"I know. That's what prompted the thought."

John looks around some more. "We could leave a note and check back tomorrow," he suggests, which is a real solution. Van Gogh didn't think he had it in him.

"Do you have a pen and paper?"

JFK peers over the counter and nods toward something. "Behind the cash register is a stack of Post-Its and a Sharpie. I obviously can't get it, with all the shit you made me hold."

Vincent rolls his eyes. "Everything's so difficult."

"Hey, I'm doing a good thing for you!"

Van Gogh turns around to show his best friend his smile. "I know that. I'm just kidding."

"Sometimes it's hard to tell."

"I guess that's one of my many shortcomings." When JFK doesn't reply, Vincent adds, "That was a joke. You can laugh."

But John doesn't.

Van Gogh doesn't seem to notice his best friend's silence as he scribbles down on the Post-It. He turns around and takes bags of chips from Kennedy's arms, recording the prices and the quantities. "Can I have your phone?" He asks.

"What about yours?" JFK replies, holding the snacks against his chest with one arm while pulling his phone out of his back pocket nonetheless.

"It's dead. I forgot to charge it last night. And you know its battery doesn't do well in the cold."

"Neither does yours, apparently," John says under his breath, but he doesn't mean it as a jab.

Vincent ignores the boy's comment, choosing to interpret it as a joke. He begins punching numbers into Kennedy's calculator app, adding up the prices and writing down a grand total at the bottom of the Post-It. He peels it off from the rest of the pad and is about to stick it to the desk computer before deciding to leave their names and JFK's phone number, just in case.

John glances over Vincent's head at the neon green paper stuck to the computer and snickers to himself.

"What?"

"Nothing, just... are they going to know that we're clones? They might just think we're trolling them."

Van Gogh looks back at the Post-It and can't help but giggle. "God, you're right. Here, we can give ourselves fake names."

"I'll be Jack Kensington, FBI detective."

Vincent laughs, scribbling over the boy's real name. "I'm not writing the last part."

Kennedy shrugs. "Suit yourself." And then, "Who are you going to be?"

"I'll be Victor Hughes."

"That's so boring."

"Who should I be instead? Victor Frankenstein?"

"Yes! That's better."

Van Gogh rolls his eyes, but there's still a smile on his rose-painted lips. "No, that's ridiculous. I can't steal Mary Shelley's OC."

"OC!" Kennedy laughs. "Frankenstein is a classic novel!"

"Mary Shelley still thought of Victor Frankenstein herself! That's what an original character is."

JFK shrugs. "Fair enough."

John and Vincent walk back to the car in favourable silence, smiles still pulled taught across both of their lips. Van Gogh has to channel every ounce of restraint in his body to keep his lips from parting into an overeager grin. He can't remember the last time he was this happy. It's always been him and JFK, but never like this. There was always someone else in the picture, someone Kennedy had to get away from to tend to Gogh. But now, it's just the two of them without any responsibility. Just the boys and a shiny red convertible, with all the time in the world.

"Oh, wait, I have to run back inside real quick," John says, dumping his armfuls of snacks into the backseat.

Van Gogh freezes, his arm hovering above his seatbelt. "How come?"

Kennedy shifts uncomfortably, trying to pull a secure lie out of thin air. "Uhh... I think I left my phone on the counter in there. I'll be right back."

When the boy turns around, Vincent can see his bright red, caseless iPhone tucked into the back pocket of his khakis.

Vincent waits in the car, staring out the windshield and picking at a loose thread in his flannel pyjama pants. God, I can't believe I'm wearing these out, he thinks. They're so ugly. Who even wears flannel anymore?

Kennedy comes out of the general store four minutes later, hugging two pairs of dark green rain boots to his chest.

"It's not raining, John. It's just fog," Vincent says with a smirk as the boy gets into the car.

He passes the smaller pair of boots to his best friend. "I had to guess your size. Six, right?"

Vincent takes the boots skeptically. "Yes... What are these for?"

JFK looks at Van Gogh with a wide grin. The grey light from the fog bounces off the white of his teeth. "You'll see! Just put them on."

Van Gogh obeys, and begins untying his Keds. His socks only go up to his ankles which may be a problem in the boots, but he doesn't care. His stomach is doing that whirlpool thing again, but this time, it feels good. He could drown, but it wouldn't hurt because he knows he'd be drowning in Kennedy.

John exchanges his sneakers for the boots before buckling his seatbelt and starting the car. He holds one hand over the clutch, the other draped over the steering wheel. He turns to his passenger, the orange of his hair bright against the cool paleness of his skin. JFK sinks in his brown eyes, but it's not suffocating like it usually is. His stare is soft, inviting. Kennedy relaxes, his eyes smiling in conversation. "Ready?"

Vincent nods eagerly. "Yeah. Yes, I'm ready."

The boys drive through town, and Vincent is convinced that they're lost. He's about to open his mouth in protest, but JFK shushes him. "We're almost there, I promise."

"Do you actually know where we're going?"

John giggles. "Yes, I know where we're going! I know you're not used to not being in control, but please trust me."

The comment stings, Vincent has to admit. But paired up with please trust me, he lets it go. He does trust JFK. He didn't always, but he does right now. Their silence is pleasant, and Kennedy says he knows where they're going.

Kennedy stops the car at the far end of town, past all the houses. The thick grove of trees is spread out through the windshield, but there's still a fair bit of marshland in front of them, sticky and wet under the car.

"Your tires are going to get so dirty," Vincent comments.

JFK leans forward to pinch the boy's cheek. "Nobody cares about that except for you, Vinny." He opens the car door and climbs out, the mud of the marsh oozing around his boots.

Vincent, still in warm and gooey shock from the nickname, melts into his seat until Kennedy knocks on the window. "Hey, Minivan! You coming, or what?"

Van Gogh pushes the door open, playfully knocking John in the hip. "I'm coming!"

The boys slosh through the marsh, the mud squeaking beneath their boots. Vincent nearly slips and has to grab onto Kennedy's arm for support. JFK sneaks a glance at the boy, smiling to himself as he struggles to keep steady through the wet earth. John stealthily wraps his arm around Vincent's torso, pulling him close and holding him firmly. Van Gogh slings his own arm across John's back, letting the boy support him as he walks through the uneven terrain.

"Thank god you bought us boots," Vincent laughs nervously, an unsure headache starting to set in. His nostrils are clogged with the scent of JFK; this, too, is uneven terrain.

John glances down at the boy affectionately, his gaze soft. "I know you don't like to get dirty, Vincent."

Van Gogh looks up at Kennedy then, and it's a miracle the taller boy had looked away before Vincent could catch him staring.

They walk through the marsh, commenting and giggling, pointing out frogs and funny-shaped pebbles and whatever thoughts pop into their heads. The boys sneak glances at each other as they walk and talk, their stomaches lurching with excitement and nervousness each time they think the other might've caught them staring.

At one moment, though, Vincent and John glance at each other at the same time, their cheeks immediately flushing pink as they look into each other's eyes. Neither of them look away, waiting for the other to say something, to know if this is safe territory or not.

Van Gogh takes a deep breath in preparation to speak at the same time that Kennedy says, "Vincent."

His voice is breathy and serious, and Vincent can't look away. He swallows. "John."

Gogh takes a deep, shaky breath, summoning all the courage he has left in him. "I really want to..." He lets his voice trail off into the cool April air, his eyes flicking between Kennedy's lips and the rest of his face.

"I know," JFK replies. He opens his mouth to agree, but his voice gets stuck in his throat. Instead, he repeats himself. "I know."

"Can I?"

"Yes," John replies too quickly.

It doesn't matter to Vincent. Consent is consent, and he's been waiting for his best friend's for years. He hasn't known it until now, but it's an explanation for all of his stomachaches, all of the twisting he felt in his chest when he saw JFK with Cleo, with other girls.

His eyes flutter shut as he raises himself to his tiptoes, shifting his arm from Kennedy's back to cradle the nape of his neck. John leans down to meet him halfway, his arm still wrapped tightly around the boy's abdomen. Their lips brush softly, innocently, and Vincent is immediately filled up with butterflies, their wings eager and flapping rapidly against the inner walls of his body.

JFK kisses back just as softly, and it's a different kiss than anything he's ever felt. His stomach knots itself with excitement, and he's falling through the sky, but he knows he's going to have a soft landing.

Vincent breaks away first, his eyes staying shut for a millisecond longer than they need to.

"I've been waiting years for that," JFK replies, his voice low and his eyes twinkling.

"How long?" Van Gogh whispers back, his tone just as light.

"I don't know."

"Me neither."

"Can we go again?" Kennedy asks after a moment, his eye contact with Van Gogh never breaking for a second.

Vincent nods, and John leans in. They are arms wrapped around torsos and around necks, hands in hair and on faces. In this moment, Van Gogh doesn't mind the ooze of the mud beneath his feet, and Kennedy doesn't mind the stillness of the kiss.

[thebiasrekkers]

Shouldn’t Be- KNJ [Part 2]

For the @btswriterscorner​ - Amor Fabula Launch Project in celebration of the month of Valentine’s Day!

Plot: Kim Namjoon is a Doctor whose most challenging client ends up teaching him about how love could heal.

Rating: PG-13 // SFW

Genre: dystopian!au/dystopian themes | angst | romance/fluff

Pairing: Kim Namjoon x Female OC (Madeline)

Warnings: Strong language, mentions of conversion, violence

Links: FAQ || BTS Masterlist || Admin L’s AO3 || [ REQUESTS ARE OPEN ]

Word Count: 1,985

AN: This certainly was a challenge to build a world like this. It was a bit different than what I like to write (supernatural and fantasy) but I feel satisfied with it. I hope you guys like it as well! Comments, reviews and all around messages are always welcome!

© thebiasrekkers (Admin L). All rights reserved. Reposting/modifying our work is prohibited. Translations are not allowed. Plagiarism/stealing is not tolerated by any means. Legal action will be taken in instances of theft. 

Freckles. 

That was the main thing that he noticed when he bent down to examine the woman that had stumbled there that night. Namjoon had been working late into the night because he was on the verge of something that would be able to help provide a greater success rate for others. However, in that process--he’d pretty much ignored his social life and his new Match of 6 months. The man had shut himself away just to do it, much to her agitation. 

Now because of that, he was now staring at another woman who had been hurt. All week, he’d been seeing reports of the Rebel activity in the area but never thought that there would be some sort of demonstration or attack so close to him. It was something that he really hadn’t seen in person either, only by education and reports. That was the extent of his knowledge of violence and to see the results of it before him? It rattled him, to be honest. Human life was very precious to begin with, not even suicide was allowed in their lives because that one person could help produce more people. That was the very reason he worked so hard to help the population live, to expand and to rid themselves of their faults that had been passed down from generations ago. 

She trembled in his arms, after weakly beating at the door to get his attention. Her face was slowly losing its color and Namjoon’s mind went into overdrive. Each of them had the training to treat people but his specialty was in the genetics and reproduction area. Still, he was woefully under prepared to treat trauma like that where he was. 

“Miss? Miss? I need you to stay awake--focus on my voice.”

She murmured something that he couldn’t make out but he could tell that she was trying. Namjoon figured that she might have been caught in the crossfire with the authorities and the Rebels. He bent down and scooped her up, the need to get her to a better spot to be treated was becoming more apparent as he shook himself out of the daze he was in. Silently, he thanked Felicity for the fact that she wanted him to look better--of all things. 

“Miss? What is your name? ID number?! I need those for the ambulance.”

She started to claw at him but he held her close, worried that she would make her injuries worse. Finally, he was able to get to one of the rooms where he could properly take a look at her--noting the clothes that she had on as they looked like she had been cut with something. Shrapnel? Knives? Just as he was about to inject her with some painkillers, she grabbed at his arm and pleaded with him before he was able to administer it. Her voice was shaky but her grip was firm as her eyes told of an emotion that he hadn’t felt in such a long time.

“No please. No doctors, I’m so scared. Please don’t let them get me…”

“But I am a doctor, Miss and you need more treatment than what I can offer here!”

Tears started to leak out of her eyes and it took everything in him not to become like that himself. What was wrong with him? He’d dealt with a great many things but the pressure that was beginning to grip his chest? It concerned him just as much as her refusal for treatment did but that’s what he chalked it up to. No doctor would be lenient with a life in their hands those days. He had to do something to get her to relax enough for him to do something until the ambulance got there. 

He lowered the needle and grasped her hands, the ones around his forearm. Sighing again, he worried about the consequences of what he was about to do. He needed to help her but then again, what if she was a Rebel? Mentally shaking his head, Namjoon decided to take that out of the equation because he had a responsibility to help her--to help save a life. 

“Miss, I at least need to know your name and blood type if you need a transfusion….”

“Madeline.."

He nodded and against his better judgement, he started to treat her as best as he could without having to call anyone else out there. He could tell that she was determined to not have anything done to her unless he didn’t call anyone. The wounds, after cleaning and inspecting them, would have been bad had she not had any treatment at all. However, working with what he was just going to be good enough. He frowned as he worked, sewing up the places and gluing some together. She finally settled into a state where the drugs were kicking in and he was able to inspect her more closely. 

It was the freckles that caught his attention more, almost like he was connecting the dots on her skin. They reminded him of a constellation map of the sky--just like the ones he used to look at when he was younger. They reminded him of a time long ago when he wanted to fly in the sky and see what was really out there. His boyish imagination was quickly shut down with the System’s rating of him, placing him in the Medical Field. He had to tear his eyes from them as he resisted the urge to map them out. 

He reached over to tie her hair up and realized that her hair seemed to be one of the softest things he’d ever touched. It took everything that he had not to marvel in it, to run his fingers over the locks and spread them out to inspect them. His heart hammered in his chest as he got a better look, trying to see if there were any more wounds that he needed to attend to. His throat hurt from swallowing so harshly throughout the process but after stopping the bleeding, he could finally breathe just a bit easier--just like her. 

Her breath started to even out a bit more from the frantic panting, slowly starting to breathe deeper and easier. He had to thank whomever was up there that she was able to make it to someone that could treat her--even if it was a little bit. 

She wearily opened her eyes, the sparkle that had dimmed a bit but still was twinkling strong. He needed to get her some place safe, an area to rest until her injuries had healed. Her gaze stirred those strange feelings inside of him again, the ones that he’d been taught were dangerous and caused the literal Hell on Earth that they were experiencing now. The very reason why they had to live in colonies due to the wars and annihilation that their ancestors had caused. 

Looking at her, he had to wonder about why those were banned. Why they all were taught something different since basically birth and placed in the areas that they were currently in. He didn’t even look at Felicity that way and she was his wife. What was it about that connection that drew him in so? Namjoon had to figure it out, his curiosity starting to over take him. 

“Where else does it hurt?”

She sighed and struggled to speak due to the drugs in her system. He realized that it would soon be a trial to even keep her conscious so he shook his head, a little grin on his face appearing. He was being so stupid for asking, he realized. He reached up and placed a hand on her head, smoothing back some of the sweaty hair that had placed itself there. He then knew where he could take her to recover where he could easily keep an eye on her. But first, he had to get her there safe and sound. 

He was truly lucky that he and Felicity hadn’t moved in together yet, despite her insistence. Leaning over her again, he double checked what he had done and when he was satisfied--that was when he presented the idea to her. It was a bit silly to do so since she was slipping into delirium but the doctor would feel odd should he not tell her what he was doing. After all, they were going to be seeing each other quite often once he got her set up. 

It was damn near a miracle that he got Madeline to his home without anyone noticing what had happened. He even made it a point to let his co-workers know that he would be taking the next few weeks off due to personal issues. The authorities had descended on the lab and even made it a point to question everyone that worked there, himself included. Being the honest soul that he was, Namjoon told them everything that he could--only omitting the fact that he treated and kept a person in his own home. 

But now that the fervor had died down, he could concentrate more on his new patient. Madeline had been asleep for nearly 48 hours and that was starting to bother him. After the questioning, Namjoon had checked up on her in the spare room. Her light breathing calmed him down after bending over to check her pulse. His fingers found her wrist and he closed his eyes to help him focus on counting the beats. They were a lot stronger than they were before, when he had stitched her up and it gave him a little more hope about her recovery. 

It would still be a long one but that was why he decided to take that time off. Namjoon really couldn’t let her leave with all of that and as strange as it was for him, he needed to have her around to figure out what it was about their connection that drew him in so. Was it also a genetic thing, to want to touch and to feel the warmth radiating off the other? Was it something ingrained in them so deeply that they couldn’t engineer it out of themselves? 

“So, you like holding hands--don’t you?”

He snapped out of his thoughts to her voice, something that brought him back to the reality of the situation before him. He felt a bit silly for reacting that way but when she spoke finally, it was the timbre of it that nearly made him crawl in there with her to sleep. And he always had trouble sleeping too. 

“I--uh was checking your pulse. You’ve been out for nearly 48 hours but you’re safe!” He hastily added, the confidence ebbing away the longer he talked to her. “I took you back to my place so that way you could rest.”

She gave him a grateful smile and sighed, almost trying to turn over in the bed but he stopped her. Even the huff that escaped her lips made the corners of his mouth turn up in a smile. He shook his head at her and reminded her that she still had fresh stitches so she had to stay still. The unspoken communication between them was almost like they were yelling at each other, her eyes on something or if she sighed a certain way--he knew what she needed. He knew every time she was in pain because of the stitches or when she pulled some out by accident when she had a nightmare. 

Namjoon knew and she knew that his quiet soul yearned for something more. It practically was screaming out for someone to notice and there she was, quite literally falling into his lap. They started to have a little bit of peace while she healed--and that was something she didn’t ever think she would get again. But he made it possible as she healed, as they both healed. 

[sailoryue]

Howlin' for you

(based on a prompt by @merelypassingtime Eddie has a dark secret he's been keeping from Venom for a few months, one he's absolutely ashamed. When he is no longer able to keep it, how will that effect their bond?

.*-*-*-*-*-*

Symbiosis was generally a two-way street. Venom needed Eddie to survive on Earth, and while Eddie did not need Venom to survive normally, Venom allowed Eddie use of his abilities to take out bad guys. Such as the thug that used to extort Mrs Chen. Between them, there were no secrets. Save for one.

*-*-*-*-*

Shortly after Venom had fully recovered from the explosion, nearly a month after the event itself, Eddie’s demeanor had changed and he had pretty much begged Venom for this one secret.

“Please, V,” he had started. “I don’t ask for a lot. Just please let me have this one.”

At the time, Venom had not understood. And even now, he still did not understand. But in the end, he allowed Eddie his secret. Sure, if he wanted, he could just pull the thoughts by force, much like how he did in the beginning of their union. And Eddie knew it. But things were different now. There was trust; and Venom VALUED trust, unlike most of his species. No matter how curious he was, he would not break that trust. 

The whole secret thing wasn't all bad. One full day a month he got to be with Annie, and Venom loved her very much. Hell he even eventually grew to tolerate and even like Dan. Not that he had much of a choice, given how Anne refused to allow any ill thoughts about her boyfriend.

Regardless, these once a month visits were fun. Both Anne and Dan always made sure to engage him in conversations and always had the best chocolate. Even tho he did not understand why, he eventually grew to look forward to these outings. Venom knew Anne knew the reason for these trade-offs, and tried asking her about it, but even she put her foot down and refused to give any hints. She said it wasn’t her secret to tell, and Venom accepted that. Even tho the secrets hurt.

Venom started to wonder if Eddie was getting tired of their bond. He usually got tired and edgy when they got close to the point in the month when the exchange happened, and was usually happier when he returned. He just wished that Eddie could just trust him with the reasons that he needed these breaks.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

　

Venom never expected to ever get his wish.

One month, when it was the time Eddie usually arranged to meet with Anne for the meet-up for the switch, Venom noticed that Eddie was more on edge than usual.

Eddie had tried to get ahold of Anne for the past hour.

“Ah, finally! Annie, I’ve been trying to reach you all day. Where do you want to meet to do the exchange?”

　 “Eddie, I thought I’d told you. Dan is at a medical conference in San Diego. We’re out of town for the week.” There was a lot of background noise so Anne had to speak loudly. 　

Venom noted the spike in Eddie’s pulse. Usually he didn’t pay attention to this monthly conversation, they usually went about the same. But obviously something was different this time. 　

“But what about… my issue?” Eddie asked in a rushed voice. 　

“I’m sorry, I swear I thought I told you. Maybe its time you told Venom?” 　

Eddie let out a defeated sigh. “Yeah, maybe. Sorry to bother you then Anne. You guys enjoy your trip.”

“Good luck, Eddie.” 　

As he hung up the phone, Eddie let out a curse under his breath.

　 IS SOMETHING WRONG EDDIE?

　 Venom could feel a sense of defeat coming from Eddie as he rubbed a hand over his face.

　 “It’s…nothing V.” Eddie said with a sigh. “You were bound to find out anyways.”

　 FIND OUT WHAT?

　 Eddie’s watch went off. “Damn, we don’t have as much time as I thought.”

　 TIME FOR WHAT, EDDIE? WHAT IS GOING ON?

　 Eddie didn’t answer the question immediately, instead grabbed a set of motorcycle saddle bags and his helmet.

　 EDDIE ARE WE GOING SOMEWHERE?

　 Eddie locked up and headed down the stairs to the parking lot.

 "Yeah. We have to head upstate. It’s a six hour ride. Look, V, I give you permission to look in my memories for what I do every month, where I go. Look in my memories for ‘werewolves.’ I know you’ll probably have questions, but please don’t ask them while we drive. I’ll answer them when we get to our destination.“ 　

Eddie’s request worried Venom a little, but he agreed to it. The ride was fairly uneventful. Eddie’s mind was swimming with worry. Why? What was this about a werewolf? Venom tried to find the answer, but the more he dug the more questions he ended up having. What was this all about? 　

Before long, they got to where Eddie wanted to be. He pulled off on to a trail and continued on as the road grew rougher and rougher, until Eddie had to walk the bike the rest of the way he wanted to go. Eventually they reached their destination, a clearing in the forest near a small lake.

　 The wooded area was quiet. Peaceful. Earth certainly had such beauty on it. Venom was glad they were able to prevent the invasion.

　 EDDIE, WE STILL DO NOT UNDERSTAND WHAT IS GOING ON. WE LOOKED INTO YOUR MEMORIES AND THE ONLY THING ABOUT WEREWOLVES WE COULD FIND IS FROM MOVIES AND THAT DOES NOT HELP US WITH THE BLANK SPOTS IN YOUR MEMORY WHEN WE TRIED TO FIND OUT WHY YOU COME HERE EVERY MONTH.

　 "You can’t see it? Damn, I was hoping you could tell me.” Eddie sighed as he parked the bike next to a tree, taking the keys out and hiding them in a knot. He opened one of the saddlebags, which was empty, and methodically removed his clothes, placing them in the bag. Venom knew this was almost ritual, going by what he had seen in Eddie’s memories. He had seen that every month Eddie did this, ending with placing all of his bracelets and ring on top of the pile of clothes, and closing the bag with a snap.

　 EDDIE, WHAT IS A WEREWOLF?

　 “Basically, it’s a curse. It happened when I was a kid, I was attacked by what I thought was a dog, but it was something much worse.” Eddie paused looking up at the darkening sky.

　 WE STILL DO NOT UNDERSTAND, EDDIE. WHAT IS A CURSE? WHAT HAPPENED WHEN YOU WERE A CHILD?

　 “It means I’m going to transform. I don’t really have a choice, and there’s not enough time to really explain it. I’m sorry, V.” Eddie walked away from his stuff to the other side of the clearing. “I should have told you sooner instead of you finding out this way.” 　

Venom was beginning to feel on edge. Something felt wrong with them.

　 EDDIE? WHAT IS GOING ON?

　 “I’m about to transform. I’m sorry I never told you. I don’t know if I’ll be able to talk to you after I turn. I’ll explain in the morning, I promise I–” He trailed off into a grunt, doubling over in pain.

　 EDDIE?

　 The sun had finished setting and the moon, bright and full rose up. And for a moment, Eddie blacked out.

　 *-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-* 　

As far as Venom could tell, their unconsciousness lasted only a few minutes. But as their mind cleared, Venom realized that something was very wrong.

　 EDDIE??

　 There was no response. Venom could sense that while he was still IN Eddie, Eddie was very, very different. Venom took stock over their body to try to see what had happened. 　

To start, their body was no longer human. Instead it was wolf like. Venom had seen many documentaries on wolves, (what else do you do when your host needs six to eight hours of sleep at night?) and from what he could tell, Eddie was much bigger and meaner than the wolves he had seen on Animal Planet.

　 Venom tried looking into Eddie’s mind and noticed the senses were very much different. Their hearing, smell and sight were much sharper, even than their monstrous Venom form; keener than even any host Venom ever had.

　 WHAT HAPPENED TO US, EDDIE?

　 Still no response, tho venom knew that wolf-Eddie heard the question. For some reason this creature they had become would not, could not answer. Instead, they took off running, deeper into the woods. 　

Venom knew it would be futile to ask Eddie where they were going. Instead he just sat back and watched as the wolf smelled around. He didn’t try to achieve symbiosis just yet. He did not want to cause harm to Eddie. Not again. He needed to be patient and observe and take this acclimation slower, to not be detrimental towards the very different biorythms.

　 SO…WHAT NOW, EDDIE?

　 Tho the creature Eddie became made know acknowledgement of Venom, he seemed to be aware of his presense. But considering the strange voice did not seem to be a threat, it went ignored. 　

Venom soon realized that what Eddie was doing was hunting. Venom could tell just by how the creature acted. It was both similar and different to how THEY acted when they stalked bad guys, but it was more skilled.

　 LET’S SEE HOW YOU HUNT ALONE, EDDIE.

　 Venom did not broadcast the words thru the bond, not wanting to disturb his host this time. He watched in silence as the wolf-creature smelled for and stalked a prey animal in the forest. He was impressed at how quickly they found a target, a female deer that was minding its own business, and was proud at how quickly Eddie took it down.

　 YOU MAKE A VERY GOOD PREDATOR, EDDIE.

　 Given the skill at it Venom wondered if this was why Eddie wasn’t too far against their need for hunting and live prey. While they started to enjoy their meal, Venom sensed danger near. But what? 　

His got his answer really quick as a bear came out to the clearing they were in. Eddie-wolf growled at the bear that was much, much bigger than them, and the bear growled in response. Venom could sense fear and anger from Eddie as they quickly backed down and fled.

　 WHY EDDIE? WE CAN JUST AS EASILY TAKE THAT DOWN, CAN’T WE?

　 For the first time, Venom got a response to his commentary and flashes of memories came from their mind. The bear constantly attacking and stealing Eddie’s prey, and how the first time Eddie had tried to take down the bear he barely managed to get away. That allowed Venom to connect the dots on another memory. Just a few months ago, he had found Eddie returned from his 'excursions’ with bad scarring that he tried to brush off as an accident on his bike, but considering it was during Eddie’s 'secret vacations’ he didn’t look to far into it. As far as he could tell, this bear had for the past several months stolen Eddie’s prey. That won’t do at all.

　 WE CAN BE SO MUCH BETTER EDDIE. TOGETHER WE CAN TAKE DOWN THIS BEAR FOR ALWAYS STEALING.

　 Venom finally managed to finish re-bonding with Eddie and showed the wolf a beast they could be together. At most he could just feel hunger from the wolf, but also a want. A want to take down a big prey, to eat and be full. And finally agreement.

　 EXCELLENT!

　 And at that, Venom surrounded Eddie much like the first time they transformed to fight Carlton Drake’s goons. Soon the wolf was much bigger and more deadly than ever, with longer, sharper claws, and deadly teeth. There was a taste of glee and death on their mouth. There was a rush of adrenaline and elation almost, ready to take down anything. And they took off on the hunt.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Eddie slowly woke from his slumber, the sun was just starting to rise, warming the area. He felt the usual soreness he felt after his monthly transformation, no longer feeling the tiredness that usually happened right before. The transformations usually felt close to healing, even though they were extremely draining the day of. He stretched, feeling every muscle pull and every joint pop, glad to be human again and he rolled to his back so he could stare at the sky which was slowly lightening. It was only then as his mind fully came awake that he realized….

MORNING EDDIE.

Eddie sat up with a start. “Venom! You’re still here.”

WHY WOULD I NOT BE?

Eddie sighed. “It’s not that, I had no idea what the transformation would…” He trailed off looking down at his hands that he was about to rub his face on, noting the dried stiffness they had. He then looked around and noticed the destruction around them. He jumped quickly to his feet, running away from what obviously used to be a bear, shouting a curse. “What the hell happened??”

WE TOOK DOWN THE BEAR THAT KEEPS STEALING YOUR FOOD.

“You took… wait how?” Eddie walked away from the nightmare that was before him. He looked down and noted that he was also covered in this mess, so he headed towards he lake.

TOGETHER. WE FORMED OUR VENOM FORM, ALBIET IT WAS DIFFERENT IN YOUR WOLF FORM. DO YOU WANT TO SEE HOW?

Eddie held up his hands. “I’ll… take your word for it V. Thanks. That bear’s been stealing the other me’s food for a while now, according to the park rangers it migrated down from the mountains and they’ve been trying to figure how to get it back up. Guess that’s a moot point now, huh”

Eddie let out a derisive laugh as he stepped into the cool water of the lake.

EDDIE, WHAT EXACTLY IS A WEREWOLF? WE SAW US TURN INTO A WOLF LIKE CREATURE, BUT THAT WAS NOTHING LIKE THE IMAGES FROM THE HORROR MOVIES WE WATCH.

“Hmm? Oh, right. Well like I said last night, its pretty much a curse. When I was a kid, I went to a camp out with some friends. Though I wouldn’t really call them my friends, since… you know about how hard I struggled with that.” Eddie shrugged and started to wipe off the mess from the night before. “One night, I was attacked by what I had thought was an ordinary wolf. A month later I started to get really sick. And the bite wound started burning really bad. My dad of course just thought I was being a pussy about it, pretending to be sick.”

Eddie finished cleaning himself and started swimming to fully wake up. 

“Luckily my sister was into monster movies and books and she had a hunch that maybe what bit me was a werewolf. She locked me in the basement on the night of the full moon. She stayed nearby just in case I WASN’T a werewolf. Fortunately my dad was drunk as usual and didn’t pay us any mind. Unfortunately she was right on her hunch.”

WE STILL DO NOT QUITE UNDERSTAND EDDIE. WHAT DOES ALL OF THIS MEAN?

Eddie walked to the edge of the pond, where he knew there was a log to sit on. “Once a month, on the night of the full moon I have to transform into that creature you saw last night. I come out here to make sure I can’t hurt anyone. If I bite anyone they would be cursed as well, and I can’t let that happen.”

WHY?

“Why?” Eddie splashed his face to cool it down. “You saw what I became, what we became. That kind of creature is far more dangerous than probably even Riot. Hell I had no idea what this would even do to us!”

US? IS THIS WHY YOU HAD US BE WITH ANNIE WHEN YOU TRANSFORMED?

Eddie sighed. “Yeah, man I didn’t know how this would effect our bond; if we would be able to handle this.” Eddie trailed off as he caught the tail end of a feeling that quickly vanished. "V…. what was that?“

IT WAS NOTHING EDDIE. 

"V, were you worried that i was trying to get rid of you?”

OF COURSE NOT EDDIE.

Eddie could tell his symbiotic friend was lying.

“V… Come out. Let me see you, right here.” Eddie held his hands side by side in front of his face. 

Venom formed a snake like form right where Eddie requested, his face ended up being inches from his.

“V, listen. There is nothing in this world that that could ever convince me to get rid of you. No matter how aggravating you may be, there is nothing that I would ever trade you for.”

EVEN IF SOMEHOW YOU FOUND A CURE FOR YOUR CURSE?

“Not even that, bud. And now that I know we can survive every month, there is nothing that you could do to make me get rid of you. You understand?” Eddie pulled Venom’s face towards his so their noses were pressed together

YES, EDDIE.

“Good. Now let’s get dressed and head back into town. I’m hungry for something other than bear.

SO WHEN IS THE NEXT FULL MOON?

[whitewolfbumble]

A Year of Firsts - Part One (Bucky x Reader, Request)

Summary: It wasn’t supposed to be a year of firsts, but then you met Bucky and everything started to fall into place.

Request: Can you do a Bucky x Reader college AU?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: None! Just pure, cotton candy fluff here!

Word Count: About 5k

A/N: Thank you for the request darling! I wrote out a full fic with Bucky and the reader in college but it got dark and I didn’t love it. Maybe it will see the light of day sometime but not yet. This one is less college-y (a lot less... like very much so… I do apologize) and so much fluffier. We get some Soft Bucko trying to re-enter the world post-Hydra, because I needed some healing cuteness in my life! 

MY MASTERLIST // SEND ME A REQUEST

Your first conversation:

Working part-time while being in school full-time was a balancing act to be sure. And yeah, maybe you weren’t just out of high school anymore and taking on such a cost and time commitment was going to be insanely hard, but you were determined to do it. It was now or never and you had promised yourself you weren’t going to hold back anymore.

You had thought last year that getting into your first year of business school would be just a complete year of firsts and a massive life change. Well, it was nothing compared to your second year and it all started with one particular customer.

You had seen him about six times now, always sitting in the far corner facing out to the rest of the restaurant. His back was always to the wall and looked as though he wished to slink back into the shadows completely. But to be honest he was impossible not to notice coming in anyways, his frame and size just about making you drop your tray of linguini the first time he zoomed passed you exiting the kitchen.

Your little Italian restaurant (well, in the year since working here you had come to think it as yours and not merely a part-time job) was on a small New York side street, soft white string lights illuminating the always unused patio and red checkered tablecloths inside. The place was dotted with little candles, the warmth in the flames combined with the rich wood floors and exposed brick walls with delicate homey touches to create a beautifully intimate space.

It was never busy, never chaotic, never changing. Kinda just how you liked it.

Your regulars filtered in and out, talking amiably to you. All but the new guy that had been coming out recently. You guessed he was considered a regular now and when you had a moment to pause and watch him, you tried to work him out.

And try as you might, you could never figure out who the hell he was meeting here or why, with a different person as his dinner companion every single time.

One time it was a tall gentleman he met with, bookish and looking like a kind of professor. Another time a woman, pretty but much too old for him. Then someone much too young. They were all shapes and sizes and genders and types. No pattern, no rhyme, no reason.

It was so confusing.

He was a quiet kind of person, non-fussy, and left a great tip too. He kept whatever conversation he was having low and generally unheard by you. And you left him alone as much as you could (since it was clear that was exactly what he wanted) while still doing your job.

“Anything else I can get you?” you asked this mystey man.

“No, thank you.” he said quietly, sitting alone now that the grey-haired, leather jacket wearing guy had left him. Your new regular always stayed maybe half an hour after, thinking and ringing his hands.

“Who can I expect next time?” you said venturing another question and prying just a little as you carefully cleaned up the table, the man leaning way back from you, as he always did. At first you thought you had smelled bad, but over the weeks you figured it was just him. His personal bubble must just be a little larger than most.

“Not sure myself.” he said, looking down with a silent huff, clearly not impressed. It made the long ends of his hair fall down around his face, hiding him from view a little.

That response got a frown from you, but you left it there.

“Well,” you said lightly, plopping the tray on the empty chair and pulling out a clean cloth from your back pocket. “Keep this for the next time, just in case.”

He looked at the white cloth quizzically, slowly taking it when you didn’t pull it away.

“Why, exactly?” he questioned, brows furrowed and looking more than a little skeptical.

You grabbed your tray and shrugged. “Next time your company is less than stellar, wave that white flag in my direction and I’ll coming running to save you.”

You winked at him with a warm smile on you face, grabbing your tray of dishes and leaving the surprised looking man behind.

Your first smile from him:

From there, slowly, you got to know him a little more as the days went on.

His name was Bucky, he was a Brooklyn native, and loved spaghetti (which was just about the most boring and mediocre dish they offered here in your opinion, but you didn’t judge). And despite his rampant awkwardness and attempts at keeping everyone and everything at arm’s length, you thought you were breaking that shell a little.

It was late and the restaurant was empty now, just the kitchen staff in the back and the owner counting the till in the back room. Besides that it was just you and Bucky out on the floor, who was sitting quietly in his usual hidden corner at the back.

“So, there’s a mystery I’ve been trying to solve,” you started lightly, walking up the table. “And I think you are just the man to help me.”

“Me?” he asked you, confused but with a hint of cautious curiosity.

“It’s about a new regular of mine. Well, maybe he’s not new, but he always comes in at the same time, twice a week, sits at the same table, orders the same meal. The most boring one we have, by the way, but that’s besides the point. The only thing that’s different are the people that meet him.”

You smiled softly, raising your eyebrow, the twinkle of the little lights in your eyes. You tried not to tease him too much or make him feel awkward with your questions, but you just had to figure this out.

He shifted in his seat a little, luckily seeming slightly more chatty (for him anyways) after his boring looking session with a rather silent pregnant woman.

“The team thinks I need some… socialization.” he muttered, looking either embarrassed or uncomfortable. Probably both. Poor guy.

You had wondered before if he was writing a paper or doing research, but had no clue how the subjects would connect. And moreover he was never writing notes or anything. You had thought through and imagined him at the same college you attended, wondering what kind of program someone like him would take and what kind of research he was doing. But it just seemed more likely that this was just as simple as conversations with strangers.

You leaned back where you stood with your gaze narrowed, sizing him up as he watched you from the corner of his eyes, cheeks a tinge of red under your scrutiny.

“I’m gonna guess hockey or football… Probably football,” you said, nodding his way absently. “Actually wait, no, you look more like a rugby kinda player. I’ll bet a hundred bucks on rugby.”

You ended up beaming smugly at him, confident in your assumption, though it was met with another confused look and furrowed brows from this enigma of a person.

“What’re you talking about?” Bucky said.

“The team. Your team you talked about, getting you to socialize,” you said, picking up his empty glass and cutlery, noticing for the first time in all your (or any) interactions that he didn’t lean away. “I’d guess you play rugby and it’s your rugby team.”

A smile broke out on his face, forcing its way passed his constant reservations. You maybe thought you heard a breathy chuckle as you stepped back and he leaned forward closer to you, elbows on the table.

“Sorry, you lost that bet after all. It’s a uh, much different kind of team.”

“Hmm,” you hummed, frowning. “Well, it’s just you have quite the… I mean your arms… But like, your shoulders are…”

You gestured awkwardly to your own shoulders, eyes animated and trying to convey just how much of a body builder type this guy looked (but also tried to hide it? Weirdly enough. Like why do all that work to hulk out, just to shy away for showing it off? Well, maybe hence the socialization. But anyway.). As you did, the dishes placed precariously on your tray teetered back and forth, Bucky reaching up reflexively and stabilizing them for you while you spoke.

“Well,” you said with a shrug, ignoring the helpful gesture much to Bucky’s now growing smile. “Whatever team you’re on, I’d like to watch you play. I’m sure I could win a lot of money betting on you.”

You left him be, not seeing the faint and far lingering of a smile on his lips.

After throwing the few dishes left in the ancient dishwasher and turning it on, you walked out to the front just as Bucky was reaching the door to leave.

You ran up to him without really thinking about it, grabbing his arm to stop him. Bucky turned immediately looking at your hand on his bicep, rather seeming surprised by the connection.

“Listen,” you said quietly to him. “I feel the need to say this here, that I’m not a gambler? Like, I know I just made a lot of comments tonight to the contrary. I promise, the generous tips you give me at not thrown onto a race track or something like that, I swear.”

Again, he looked at you trying again to hide a smile growing largely. After a second he snorted, shoulders shaking a little with the breathy chuckle, running a hand through his hair.

“Your secret’s safe with me, Y/N.”

“Oh please,” you said good-naturedly, rolling your eyes and pointing a finger at him. “As long as you don’t make the rambling, gambling waitress your dinner topic on your next non-date. Got it?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Bucky nodded, grinning still as he left, little bell on the door chiming gently at his parting.

From then on when the restaurant was empty (which was often) and after his strangers left, you and he began to talk.

Your first date (well, kinda):

It was Tuesday night, and you were in a foul mood.

Usually Tuesdays meant seeing Bucky. You’d spend all day guessing who you would see at his table, thinking up wild stories and crazy outfits for them, though you were always way off. As soon as they were gone, you’d sit with Bucky who would fill you in on their conversations, leading to conversations of your own.

But your ever-punctual favourite customer was late. And after two hours past the time he usually walked in, you figured he just wasn’t coming at all.

You told the kitchen staff you had a bad day at school to account for your disposition, plastered on a smile for the few other customers that came in, but you couldn’t shake the gloom or disappointment.

The last of the couples in here eventually left, and after cashing them out and cleaning up, it was just you, alone and cranky, re-wiping the already clean tables.

But the little doorbell chimed and a burst of fresh air entered the little space. When you looked up, ready to greet the entering customer, instead you saw him.

“Hey stranger,” you said, not hiding your shock at his unexpected entrance, with the dark cloud that shrouded you instantly lifted. “What’re you doing here so late? I was getting worried, thought you had moved on to a different restaurant.”

That usual reserved, almost stoney look Bucky had to him dissolved at seeing and hearing you, his expression turning soft in the fairy lights.

“I was just outside-”

“Oh god!” you frantically said interrupting him. “Don’t tell me you were the first person ever to want to use our mini patio, and I completely neglected you?!”

“No, no, I was just waiting for people to leave.” he said quickly before swallowing, hands in his pockets, as though that something he shouldn’t be sharing.

“Oh…” you said, pausing. “Why?”

“I waited,” he admitted, his ocean blue eyes locked on yours, reserved but unwavering. “Because I wanted to talk with you tonight.”

You.

Not someone else. A random stranger. But you.

“Oh,” you said dumbly, a little shocked. “Oh… well, okay.”

You unconsciously rubbed your hands on your apron, looking around the empty restaurant. You shrugged to yourself, untying the back of it and wadded the apron up.

“There, I guess I’m off duty. Free to chat.” you said with a smile, nodding him back to his usual table.

Deftly he followed you back, the two of you taking a seat at the little table. But the moment you sat down, you immediately sprung up again like a shot. “Wait, no!”

Bucky watched, surprise and upset clear on his face, but just as seeing you dissolved his last expression, so again he settled into a more content look as you appeared back with two plates of spaghetti and drinks.

“Alright you creep, watching me through the window,” you teased, noticing a bit of heat on his cheeks, though he didn’t try to deny the accusation. “How did the crowd in here look tonight?”

“Hopefully generous…?” he said, swirling the pasta on his fork without looking. Usually he stared at his food with the other strangers he met. It oddly made you well up with a bit of pride he was watching you instead.

“Well, their tips won’t pay off my college tuition just yet, but give it time.” you said.

“How’s that jerk in your political science class?” he asked casually, sipping from his glass and eyes still locked on you. But you smirked at him knowingly, despite his demure expression.

“I mentioned that in passing and what, probably forever ago?” you teased lightly.

He had been paying a lot more attention than you thought.

He nodded with a shrug. “Yeah, a few weeks ago. He still being a jerk?”

“No,” you answered, not wanting to tease him too much for so diligently remembering your little conversations. Because all in all that was pretty freaking cute.

You paused just watching him for a second, a thought bubbling up in you mind; clearly he didn’t need help socializing with you. Again, a pleasant pressure of emotion built in your chest at that.

But you swirled your pasta and carried on.

“Our female professor demolished him last week when he made this stupid, douchebag kinda comment. I don’t think he’s said a word to anyone since. And the entire thinking world heaves a collective sigh of relief, let me just tell you that.”

So you rambled on and he listened, then he rambled and you did the listening (well, as much as someone like Bucky could ramble… which wasn’t much, but you still held on to every single word).

He talked about his best friend Steve and growing up in Brooklyn, and you talked about business school and your work here, juggling both responsibilities. It sounded pretty boring to you, but he listened in enraptured. Even when he looked down at his food, you could tell every ounce of his focus was still on you, he nodding slightly and wheels turning behind those ocean blue eyes of his.

And despite the lousy spaghetti- which he seemed to enjoy immensely- it was about the best dinner you had ever had.

The kitchen staff had long left as closing time had come and gone, but neither of you seemed ready to let go of this night quite yet. You ended out your time with Bucky listening in to your school friends baby daddy drama, while you washed the few dishes and he dried. It was pointless to run the washer just for this, and Bucky didn’t mind, saddling up right next to you as you chatted on, suds up to your elbows.

When it was time to lock up, you cranked down the window gate and shut off the lights. Grabbing your keys before locking the front door, you turned to him.

“So Thursday, will you be late and with me or on time with a stranger?” you said, poking him in the chest. “I’m a big enough person to admit my little heart can’t take all this “will he, won’t he show” stuff, alright? It just throws off my whole day.”

You couldn’t see him flush a little in the dark night, little streetlights not doing much down this little alley by way of light.

“I’ll be here on time with some character we can talk about after, I promise.”

You smiled to yourself, locking the door.

“Good, or I’ll feed you something other than that lousy spaghetti.” you jokingly threatened.

The first time he walked you home:

Thursday had been the highlight of your week. Yes, you actually loved your classes and your job, but to be honest, when you weren’t with him, you were thinking about him.

Tonight was just the same as the others. Waiting for everyone to leave before sitting down and chatting about everything and anything.

As always you locked up, saying your goodbyes with a tease or a smile from you and a crooked grin from him.

Bucky walked down the dark street, head down and hands in his pockets, making his large frame smaller, as he always tried to do. But he turned around before turning the corner, to take a last look at you before his usual visit next week. He saw your face illuminated by your phone screen, frowning into it with a sigh. You clicked it off, shifting on your feet and looking around the dark side street, unsure of something.

“Hanging out here tonight after all?” Bucky asked, walking silently back up to you.

For some reason he stayed back, as though his friendly presence in the dark night wouldn’t be a welcome one. That couldn’t be farther from the truth and you took an unconscious step closer to him.

“My ride just ditched last minute,” you admitted. “I don’t particularly like the idea of spending my tip money on a cab considering I’m not too far from here. So I decided debating the pros and cons in an ill-lit, sketchy-looking New York street was the best option until I undoubtedly get mugged and my dead body found in that dumpster, gnawed on by raccoons and crazed junkies.”

“Lemme walk you home than,” Bucky offered. “And we can go through that pro and con list on the way.”

You hoped the night masked how bright your face shone in that moment, but it could’ve been seen a mile away.

“Sure, alright.” you said, sounding demure and sweet, before setting off down the street. “I wanted to cycle back to that complete weirdo from last week anyways. Has he shown up at your door, yelling at you for salting your meals yet?”

“No, not yet,” Bucky smiled, trying to keep his shoulder from brushing you on the small sidewalk. “But I’m not convinced he won’t. God, he was crazy.”

“I have never heard someone yell so much over salt. Of all things!” you said chuckling to yourself, not noticing how Bucky watched you, eye sparkling at your laugh. “So what other food do you blasphemously and with malicious intent salt unnecessarily?”

It wasn’t long before you two stepped in time with each other, the walk a few blocks to your apartment the most pleasant way you could think of to end your day.

But it had to end eventually, your steps slowly down slightly as you two walked up a sketchy side street to you lowrise apartment building.

“Do you want me to walk you up?” Bucky asked, looking at the building a little concerned.

The building was run down certainly, yells come from one apartment, music blasting through an open window from another, a seedy looking pair drinking something out of paper bags against the side wall.

“It looks sketchy, but generally harmless,” you leaned into him pointing to an open window on the first level, just by the entrance. An old woman was there watching everything, shouting at the two men loitering by the building.

“That’s Grammy Rodrigues,” you started quietly. “She’s a bulldog and keeps an eye out. I promise, she’ll look after me.”

Bucky gave a quick wave as the woman who had turned narrowed eyes to him, more than a little venomous. You waved a little more emphatically than he did, smiling brightly at the old woman.

“Here, just in case she has her hands full.” Bucky said to you, reaching in and pulling on a piece of paper from his pocket, placing it in your hand swiftly.

You took a quick look at it, taking a second to realize his phone number was scribbled on to it. You face moved from confusion to a warm glow.

You didn’t comment on the fact that he already had that written down, like it had been waiting in his pocket for the right time to give it to you. The gesture was far too sweet for you to tease him about it.

“Thanks, I’ll use it for emergencies only…” You continued before he could interrupt. “But maybe also non-emergencies. So pretty much for anything. Meaning you will most definitely live to regret this moment right here, Bucky. Sorry pal, but no one to blame but yourself for this.”

Bucky pursed his lips, trying not to let that crooked grin break into an all-out smile. Still, it completely did.

“Deal.” he said, a little flushed and beaming, find something suddenly quite interesting at his feet.

“Goodnight Buck, and thanks for the walk home.” you said, giving his arm a squeeze.

The pair of you walked off in opposite directions, and for the first time ever you wished you lived much farther from work.

You walked up the steps, leaning on the rail to say hello to your ever watchful neighbour. But your eyes were on the back of Bucky, who pretended not to hear Grammy Rodrigues skipping hellos and remark on how she approved of you not inviting a boy up to your apartment.

Your first text to him:

You flopped into bed, that little piece of paper in your hand. You debated texting for just a second or two before shimmying down, decision made. It didn’t take long for you to add him as a contact and opening up a new text conversation.

Your first time talking about his past:

The next time he came in, you had a hard time not constantly glancing his way. In your defense, he was doing the same to you, stealing glances while his dinner companion chatted on. Whatever the conversation was tonight, it wasn’t half as interesting or enthralling as he found you. You couldn’t help but admit to yourself that you were in the exact same boat, barely paying attention to anything (or any other customer) but him.

Again and as always, he stayed after his companion left, waiting to end the night talking with you.

Immediately when the place was cleared, you sat down, leaning on the table with your head in your hand, smiling at him and heart brimming full of contentment now that you could be with him again.

“Hello, Mr. Barnes.” you said, oozing that bit of contentment.

“Hey Y/N,” he said with a smile, before stopping still as he was leaning in, expression dropping. “Wait… you know my last name? You know… you know who I am?”

You didn’t move from your close and casual position and your good spirits didn’t falter, even if his seemed to be plummeting in front of your eyes.

“I do,” you responded, sounding soft and confident. “I figured it out somewhere along the lines. And I decided I wanted to know you, the guy working to get back into the world. Who eats the worst thing on the menu and seems pretty sweet and unassuming.”

His eyes flitted back up to yours from their downcast position, a swirl of intense emotion happening behind them. It briefly caused your heart to flutter in your chest. His stare held a thousand unspoken words in that moment, and a couple you could guess at. Relief. Joy. Fear. Longing. But he remained silent.

“Can I ask you something?” you said, figuring now as as good a time as any. Any transition would be a little jarring, and this had been weighing on you, however selfish it seemed to swing the conversation back to something about you.

“Anything, Y/N.” he responded immediately, determined.

You wondered what he thought you would be asking him. It wasn’t anything serious exactly or related to his history. It was just kinda… personal, maybe was the right word. You tried to play it off as best you could though.

“You uh, called me beautiful, in your text message. Is that like a thing you call every girl, or just the employees of your favourite restaurant?”

Clearly that wasn’t the question he figured you would ask after revealing you knew who he was. He answered just as determined though, but definitely with some added sweetness.

“Just you, beautiful.” he stated, the little pet name making your heart suddenly flutter all the more.

He said it like everyone called you that. Like you had heard it a thousand times. Like it was fact everyone recognized. Well, none of that was true. Yet somehow here he was, saying it like it was both nothing and everything.

“Well…” you stumbled, composing your face to something neutral (and probably failing). “I can uh, agree to that. I guess.”

“How about another date while you’re at it, maybe?”

You looked back up to him, body leaning across the small table, his baby blues intent even if his words were said casually. For the hundredth time you heart fluttered and sputtered in your chest.

“I think I can manage that too.”

The first night he stayed over:

“Hey,” you whispered into your phone, barely audible. “I uh, I’m sorry for calling so late. I just… Remember how you gave me your phone number for both non-emergencies and emergencies?”

You swallowed, trying not to let sheer panic overtake you.

“Well, I’m just calling to say that I’m in my closet.” you whispered, quiet and hoarse. “My bedroom closet if that makes a difference. Probably not. I tend to ramble in an emergency so buckle in for this one. Because I think this is an emergency. Or maybe it’s not. The point is I don’t know. I mean, either a pigeon or something got into my apartment again, or a person did.”

You huddled down even closer to the floor, arm wrapped around yourself and eyes wide in the total pitch darkness.

“Bucky, there may be a person in my apartment. And like, there really shouldn’t be, if there is. I don’t usually allow randos from off the street break in to rob or murder me or whatever.”

You took a deep silent breath, ears straining to hear another from outside your bedroom.

“So anyway,” you continued, trying to make your voice sound lighter though it most came out sounding pained if anything. “I’m here, in an emergency, calling you. You know, so maybe call me back? That would be cool. Or come down and save me from this murderer. Either or. Also, I really hope you are not sleeping and listen to this in the morning only to find me dead. Okay, sorry, I’ll stop rambling. Thanks, bye.”

You clicked to end the voicemail and tried to think of a way not to either implode from terror or get horribly, horribly murdered.

An endless minute or two later a squeak erupted from you in a petrified shock as your phone buzzed so loudly you thought the whole neighbourhood could hear. Another squeak, this time of sheer delight, almost escaped as you saw the caller was Bucky. 

Answering as fast as you could with your heart absolutely racing, you instantly were confused at unintelligible mumblings and noises on the other end.

“Hello?” you asked hushed and confused into the dark claustrophobic little space.

“Sorry, I’m coming!” he said rushed, sounding like he was running. “I called while I was pulling on a shirt, but I’m outside now and I’ll be there in a few minutes. Don’t move! I’m coming, I’ll be there. Just don’t move.”

You stayed on the line, barely breathing while he rambled on constantly, stringing together more words than you had ever heard him say, telling you where he was and how long he would be every few seconds. His voice was rushed but thankfully trying to stay calm. It inturn kept you somewhat calm and able to not completely lose your sanity while you sat alone in an apartment with a potential intruder.

“I’m at your door now, but it’s locked.” he said, almost making you cry in relief. “If you can’t let me in I’m going to break it down.”

He took a deep breath in like he was about to punch the thing in when you quickly piped up to stop him.

“No!” you said in a frantic whisper. “The landlord would kick me out if he didn’t just flat out kill me first!” 

You struggled to your feet, nerves about stopping your heart as your hand hovered on the closet door.

“I can do this.” you whispered more so to yourself than Bucky, before pushing open the door and full out sprinting like your life depended on it.

“Don’t kill me! Don’t kill me! Don’t kill me!” you shrieked as you bolted through your apartment in the utter darkness, throwing yourself at your front open and retching it open.

You about slammed into Bucky, racing past him to the far side of the hall, block yourself from view with your body.

“Hey Buck,” you whispered rather dully at him, exhausted and relieved, clutching on to his arm for dear life. “Why don’t you come on in. I’ll make some tea while you scare or maim any intruders, huh? That sound good to you? Great let’s just go ahead and do that. Or you know what, we can just burn this building down and forget this whole thing. You know, either or.”

“Stay here,” he said, bending his head down to yours and squeezing your hand a moment, before walking into the pitch black apartment like a man on a mission.

It was a couple stomach twisting minutes before a light flicked on and he emerged.

“So pigeon or murderer?” you asked fidgeting, nervous eyes locked to his. “What’s the verdict?”

“I want to say pigeon,” he said, expression and tone unreadable. Oh god, that did not fill you with a lot of confidence on the pigeon possibility. “Since you did leave your living room window open…”

You groaned, rubbing your face. “Okay, on second thought, I don’t want to know. Because I don’t know if a psychopath or a disease laiden bird running rampant in my place is worse, and I don’t want to know.”

“I can definitively tell you having a murderer in your apartment is much worse than a bird, Y/N.” he said with a frown, blissfully and silently agreeing not to confirm if anyone had been in your place. “C’mon, let’s get you settled back in.”

Bucky led you around your apartment, hand comfortingly on your back the whole way aw he walked with you. He made sure you saw and knew that no one was there, hiding behind a couch or in any closets. 

Soon enough the two of you were back by the front door.

“Windows are locked tight, and I’ll come ‘round sometime to add another lock to your door.” he said, hesitating where he stood. Awkwardly, even while exhausted from interrupted sleep and panic, you were doing the same. “Unless that’s… Well, if you don’t me to uh, go or anything… I… well…”

“No, no,” you said, looking down, brows pulled together. “You should probably… well, I mean… I’ve ruined enough of your night already so…”

You made an effort to smile at him however weakly while you held onto your elbows, absolutely hating the fact that he was about to leave you here alone. It wasn’t fair that you called him at all, and the last thing you wanted to do was make him stay if he didn’t want too, so you tried your best to reassure him. Though it was him that did the reassuring.

“You did not ruin my night,” he said adamantly. So much so you believed him, even though running over in a panic to your apartment in the middle of the night could hardly be deemed as pleasant.

Bucky took a step closer to you, warm hand on your arm. “If you need something or if you’re scared or in danger or just anything, you call me. Always. I’ll be there.”

You swallowed, sleepy eyes getting lost in those calming blue ones. You weren’t sure exactly how much time passed with you just swimming in those blue pools, and Bucky wasn’t aware of his fingers rubbing comfortingly across your skin.

“Can you stay?” you whispered, not aware you had really asked until it was too late to take it back. “I mean, my couch isn’t terrible to sleep on and… I mean, I don’t want to be that dick who calls you twice in one night for no reason, both times because I’m too much a scaredy-cat to survive on my own.”

You watched tension melt from his muscles, with his body relaxing and corner of his mouth turning up a bit. Instantly his response relaxed you too.

“Good, cause I don’t want to be that dick who stays up outside your front door like some overbearing jerk.”

Getting him settled out in the living room with pillows and blankets took all of a couple minutes, the two of you trying not to show to other how much better felt with Bucky staying the night. But that was about all the energy you had left, barely managing to keep your eyes open.

“Okay,” you said, stepping right up to Bucky with your hands up on his shoulders, forgetting both about personal space and proper etiquette in your sleep-drunkenness. “If I forget you are here and you make a sound, expect a call that another pigeon has landed, okay? You can just find me in the closet.”

“Okay, Y/N” he said, face brimming with fondness. You nodded once, turning towards your bedroom.

“Goodnight, you overprotective jerk.” you said sleepily.

“Goodnight beautiful.”

Your first kiss:

Sneaking out because of an early morning class was the hardest thing you had done in a long time, not because of minutes of sleep you got but completely because of the handsome drink of water you left on your living room couch.

He was curled up in a tangle of blankets in the dim light, breath even and face a blank, beautiful expression. It took all you had not to wake him up so you could kiss those soft looking lips, see the hazy sleep in his eyes, feel the warm in his stare and from his skin against yours.

Yeah, leaving had been hard.

But the least you could do was let him sleep after stealing so much of it from him, however much it made your heart lurch in pain. You thankfully didn’t have to wait long to see him though.

Despite it very much being the middle of the week and the middle of the afternoon, Bucky arrived to the restaurant just minutes after you did to start your shift. The place wasn’t technically open yet but you couldn’t think of a better person to see opening that door.

He grinned to you as he walked up to you, and you did the same, forgetting your task of placing cutlery on the tables as soon as you locked eyes on him. The pair of you just stood there a moment before speaking.

“Hello.” he said eventually, low voice like velvet.

You watched the corner of his mouth turn up ever higher, unable to focus on anything but his lips in that moment. Your heart might have been pounding harder than it had the night before, but you steeled your resolve all the same. You had regretted not doing it this morning, and wouldn’t make the same mistake.

“Stand there,” you whispered to him seriously. “I should have done this before, but I’m going to do it now instead.”

You were already close to him, but you took a breath, slowly taking another step closer. It meant your body was now against his, your warm and soft frame to his large, muscular one.

You locked your gaze on his, trying to anchor him there while you pressed yourself against him, wondering and silently demanding that he not break away from you. Bucky stood rigid, body tight and his breath held in his chest. You could see in his eyes his nerves, his longing, his tension. You wanted to see bliss there instead, nothing but pure happiness. All the wonderful and beautiful and safe things he made you feel.

You brushed your fingers along his cheek, his head moving down ever so slightly towards you yet not all the way, hesitant to make the final move.

Instead you raised yourself up on your tiptoes, the length of your body moving like liquid against his. The movement caused him to slowly and unconsciously blink, like he was briefly savouring that feeling of you sliding along him.

Your lips hovered just a fraction above his, parted and licked wet by your tongue, with you taking a moment to build the anticipation of this first kiss. Warm breath mingling together, the heat you were both feeling spilling out into the air around you.

The moment you closed the distance and set your mouth to his, you melted. You went from confident to a love-drunk puddle in his arms. This kiss was sweet like the finest honey, as fiery as the blood pumping through you, as intoxicating as you had ever felt. It wasn’t neat or chaste, but warm and deep, the feeling completely consuming you both.

The moment your parted, hungry lips connected with his, Bucky’s stilled breath and body came to life again. Your soft body against his, your unspoken longing and gentle heat crashing through him like a euphoric shock to his system. Where he was hesitant and rigid, he was now molded to you trying to breath in every piece of you, trying to kiss deeper and harder and as intensely as his bursting heart could handle. His tongue begging for entrance into you, arms enveloped you, heart and body and soul unwilling to let you go.

The tiniest little sound was caught in your throat, the smallest whispered release of longing breathed out into his mouth. At that little moan he lifted across the room and pushed your back against the coarse brick wall, trying with everything to be and contain your whole world. Just as in that moment you were his.

The only thing that could split you apart save death in that moment was the need for oxygen, the two of you somehow needing it at the same moment. Breaking apart was almost painful, everything in you desperate to find your way back to his lips as fast as possible.

You breathed, gasping silently on his shoulder, trying and failing to both catch your breath and shake out the dizziness that was clouding your mind, that overwhelming intoxication. He couldn’t either, clinging to you like he wasn’t ready to let you go, chest heaving against yours, drunk and electrified by your touch.

Completely at the mercy of the best first kiss of your life, the two of you waited and held each other in blissful, intoxicated and bewildered silence, alone in that little restaurant.

PART TWO

A/N: If you want me to write more “firsts” and add on another chapter, let me know! Thanks for reading!

Permanent Tags: @dontpanc, @smodvocate, @bunsterjonez, @buckybonky, @marveloustrashpanda, @hangirl93, @captainrogerrsbeard, @friendly-neighborhood-lich-queen, @thisgirllikeme, @jjsoccer11, @innerpandablizzard-blog, @fanatic-fanfic, @mdgrdians, @christinky, @universal-death-of-a-fangirl

Bucky Barnes Tags: @bexboo616 @kaaatniss

[emotionalrealist]

Equilibrium - Chapter One: Liberator or another tyrant?

One Piece fanfiction featuring an original character. I do not own anything but the plot of the fanfiction and the character, everything else belongs to Eiichiro Oda. WARNINGS: strong language, scenes of sex (suggestive or visual), violence, murder, death, slavery 

The halls only echoed with the sound of clicking chains along soft weeps and sobs; not that the girls could hear any of the disrupting sounds. Their bodies were being dragged to the last cell in a long linear hallway, whose stone walls and floors oozed with the smell of dried blood and urine. Two guards hung them on the chain bracelets hanging from the short ceiling, one by the left side of the entrance, one by the right side of it. The only item in the small cell was a small, worn – out table decorated with a black, laced mask, which would cover the nose and eyes of the one wearing it, and now a log pose, golden bracelet and a cowboy hat; which were added moments before their bodies ended up swinging in the air on the cold metal handcuffs.

‘’Seems like you got new roommates, Walker. I hope they do as well as you do.’’  One of the guards, with a body much larger than the one he spoke to, mocked the newcomers, while examining the items on the table, placed directly across the orange hair newcomer and on the left side of the third hanging body.

‘’Oh, I’m sure they’ll bring nothing but pleasure to those who demand them.’’ Throaty but grating voice departed from the third hanging body in the cell, equally in a mocking tone, competing with the guards. It wasn’t his first ride with the prisoner in question; he knew full well her tone was just another way of her disobedience towards them, which now resulted in heavy footsteps towards her.

‘’Don’t get witty with me, Walker, I’ll make sure the Boss punishes you for it.’’ The chains slowly clicked while his hand, wrapped in a black, metal glove, hugged her cheeks and gripped them hard, pulling her whole body towards his impressively big figure.

‘’Oh, I could never; I wouldn’t want my handler get jealous. I know how much you enjoyed last night, Marky.’’

Her tongue once again earned her a slap across the face, every wrinkle of his mesh glove leaving a red visible mark over her right cheek, pushing her body back swinging.

‘’It’s officer Richards, for you, whore!’’

The sound had awoken the girl on the left side of her. Luckily, the guards just found their way to the heavy metal door before she let her head rise.

‘’Good morning, beautiful. Welcome to hell.’’ The middle figure spoke, this time a bit more lively.

The orange haired woman looked at her with wide eyes full of shock, while the other woman regained her conscious as well.

‘’Nami?’’

‘’Are you okay, Robin?’’  The orange hair quickly turned in the direction of her friend, before noticing she was in the same position and situation as the raven haired.

‘’Nico Robin. Cat burglar Nami. I’m sorry to meet you in a setting like this.’’

Both of the females now poured their attention towards the central of the cell.

‘’How do you know who we are?’’ Nami quickly questioned the woman.

‘’The news talks about you every so often. Wouldn’t it be a bigger shock if I hadn’t known who the Straw Hats were?’’

Nami quickly withdrew, probably trying to figure out what happened before she lost consciousness, but Robin continued the interaction between the hanging figure and them.

‘’It’s only polite to introduce yourself to us then.’’

The woman swayed closer to the light, which was placed just a few inches from where the metal hook of her chains rested, allowing the females a better look at her figure. Her hair was long and brown; it framed soft facial features, full lips and thick black eyelashes that decorated medium oval brown eyes. Or what could be seen of her face, under a fair amount of blood the guard caused. She seemed shorter than Robin, seeing her chains were pulled more over the metal hook, but still higher than Nami. Same as her height, her age seemed to fall somewhere in the realm between the ages of the Straw Hats women. Her body was covered in dry blood and a couple of bruises, which were all visible because she was practically naked. Her wide hips were encompassed by black tight shorts, while her chest was lacking such restraint – the only thing covering her breasts was the remaining of a white tank top, which now resembled more a crop top. While the Straw Hat women were still fully dressed, this woman missed even footwear.  Before she could answer, Robin already noticed the table behind the unknown woman, quickly inspecting and recognizing its contents.  All of its contents.

‘’The mask.’’ Robin’s head slowly returned to the position before noticing the table, only now widen eyed did she stare at the woman.

‘’What is it, Robin?’’ Nami expectedly wanted an explanation for this situation, which grew more mysterious by every moment.

‘’Shadow Walker.’’ Quietly, Robin spoke out after a long pause. Robin’s tone of voice sounded accusing and judging, making the woman clench her aching jaw and frown.

‘’No, please.’’ Brown haired woman spoke hastily after the reveal of her identity. ‘’I’m Zaria. Only those who show no respect for balance should know me by the name such as Shadow Walker.’’

‘’You’re a serial killer and you speak of balance? Ironic.’’

‘’I can understand your opinion. The news always leave out the most critical parts of the information they receive.’’

‘’Wait, you’re the one burning up the Navy ships and bases?’’ Nami interrupted again, now connecting all of the dots. ‘’The paper said you’ve slaughtered more than a hundred officers in both of the facilities, making you responsible for deaths of more than two hundred men and women. Plus, all of the people on the ships.  I agree with Robin, sounds pretty serial killer-y to me.’’

‘’That’s pretty narrow look on the things, but I guess it does sound like it. I guess I am fully guilty.’’ Zaria paused, taking a deep breath, in a desperate attempt to push down her rage. Rage of the misinformation going around the world, leaving it blind once again to actual problems, and the rage of actually being seen as a worse guy in the situation as such. She never expected to be perceived as something positive, taking into matter she was still doing something naturally wrong, but to conclude an opinion on the matter, despite not knowing all of the variables of the equation, did fill her insides with a certain amount of anger, as much as she wished to let it go. Her expectation of the world was far too great and she should’ve prepared herself for more explaining and far worse reactions to her persona. Finally, she managed to persuade herself it wasn’t the girls’ fault they formed such an opinion, despite not having all of the facts, for it wasn’t common for the criminal side of any kind of evens to give a press conference or an explanation behind their elaborate plans; so she settled on explaining it herself, even if it only were to Robin and Nami.  ‘’I’ll be the worst guy. Once you ignore the fact the facilities were used by corrupted Navy officers under the sponsorship of a couple of Celestial Dragons, mostly for the use of human trafficking and sex slaves.’’

Both of her cellmates remained silent for a moment, which Zaria took to her advantage, immediately continuing.

‘’You think what you saw on that bloody island was bad? The World Government and the world know all about the happenings on the island of Sabaody Archipelago, while these monstrosities are in the dark even to the Navy HQ. I just wanted to shine some light on the currents events.’’ Zaria’s tongue carefully licked over the spot in the right corner of her mouth, absorbing its metal aroma, before she continued. ‘’They capture women in broad daylight, bring them to their bases and after months of what they call testing, decide to either sell them to third parties or keep using them till they can’t stand anymore. They deny them food and hygiene for weeks. Most of them die for exactly that reason. Not to mention, sex slaves aren’t only for sex. They’re for everything. If they’re feeling angry, they’ll beat you. If they’re horny, they’ll screw you. If they’re feeling generous, they’ll share you with their friends, family or subordinates. If you end up pregnant, they kill you. What I’m doing is far less evil then their doings. Plus, it’s quicker.  And I’m almost done.’’

Robin let out a soft puff, obviously fighting inside herself, giving Nami an opportunity to express her opinion.

‘’So, you would be a lesser evil, between the two?’’

‘’No, I would just be someone fighting back. Someone trying to maintain balance. You don’t have to understand my motives. Besides, there were six ships and three bases that operated, according to my information. I’ve taken care of the ships and two of the bases. The whole man hunt should be over soon enough, meaning I’ll save your minds from the exposure to that form of news as soon as I get out of these chains.’’

Zaria clacked her shackles which made the women look up to their own handcuffs, before glancing down to their feet, which barely touched the stone floor.

‘’A woman would think you’d be relieved by these facts.’’

‘’Why would we feel easier knowing you future plans?’’ Nami yelled in her direction, still not releasing the severity of their situation.

‘’Your handcuffs are made of Sea Prism Stone. Mine are made of something similar, with same effects to myself as the Sea Prism Stone is to Robin here. It’s draining.’’

‘’You’re making the situation even worse.’’

‘’I’m only informing you with the full length of our situation. No one knows where you are, you are unlikely to escape by yourself, so the only bet we have is for the idiots here to make a mistake so I can finish my plan and escape, along with the two of you.’’

This only resulted with imaginary question marks over the heads of the women, followed by utter shock and disbelief.

‘’I’m sure you figured it out by now. We are locked in the cell of the third corrupted Navy base, with Celestial Dragons on their way to test the new merchandise.’’

Zaria took a deep breath, before completing her sentence fully.

‘’You.’’

[bigbanggot7stories]

Across the Hall (Part 1)

I’d just like to say that general admission for the Museum of Fine Arts in Houston was free the day after the concert, and bitch I love me some art/history/free things, so my friend and I went and I loved it. This is going to be kind of an exaggeration of my actual experience going to this concert with my best friend, so I hope you like it! Anywhooo………I’m gonna try to write my first smut, okay? Okay. Let’s see how this goes!

Fluff/Smut/Angst

Kwon Jiyong x Reader

____________________

“God, I still can’t believe it’s here. Can you believe it?”

I shook my head and chuckled, keeping my eyes on the road ahead of me while my best friend, Ash, set up a playlist of G-Dragon’s set list. It was finally here, and even at the beginning of a 3.5-hour road trip to Houston, we couldn’t calm our nerves. It might have been eight in the morning the day before the concert, but we were determined to have a little fun before we had the best time of our lives. Plus, it wouldn’t hurt if we just happened to run into the one and only Kwon Jiyong.

“I know, I still can’t believe I made the fucking impulse decision to buy the damn tickets with my entire paycheck. And maybe without my parents being too entirely happy with it.”

“Honestly, let’s not even talk about it. Like Meme said, let’s just go and have fun!” I smiled at the nickname for my grandma. She was so pumped for this concert for me that I almost felt bad for not buying her a ticket. After all, she was the only person in my family that would jam to Kwon Jiyong’s newest album and fangirl over T.O.P. with me.

“That’s true, I guess. But thank God we both found good paying jobs. Oh, and probably also that you were able to get off for the rest of this week! Could you imagine doing this with the little money we made before we got our degrees?” We laughed at the thought of traveling to Houston with the small amount of money we made at our part time jobs. Ash was working at a hospital closer to home after graduation until she would move on to grad school in California, and I was lucky to land a training job with a Fortune 500 company that allowed me to work from home, traveling occasionally, and keep my law internship before moving on to law school. To say the very least, we were lucky.

“I know, right? We wouldn’t have been able to afford this nice ass hotel we’re staying at, either. It would have been the Rat-Hole 6 or something.” She laughed, taking a swig from the coffee cup I had just placed in the cup holder.

“Hey! Should’ve gotten your own!” I chastised, but smiled. “So true. I guess we could call this our late graduation present.”

Ash agreed with me, and we soon slid into a comfortable silence, jamming out to the songs we would soon hear live with our own ears.

Walking into the hotel lobby had Ash’s eyes bulging out of her head before we even made it ten feet toward the front desk. She was not prepared for the 30-foot ceilings and the luxury furniture dotting the room. She took in the bellhops, the restaurants on either side of the lobby, and the bar smack in the middle. When her eyes landed on the bar, I knew exactly what she was thinking. I smirked and took her by the elbow, dragging her slightly until we made it to the check-in line.

“I know, that was my exact reaction the first time the company sent me to New York. I think I almost fainted until someone brought me water. It was fucking nuts.”

I smiled as I watched her continue to take in the grand lobby, remembering that first trip to New York. The forty-story building being something out of a movie for small-town Y/N, and I had never been even close to that kind of treatment. It was still hard getting used to the luxury hotels even after the numerous trips I had taken. In fact, I hadn’t planned on staying at this hotel during this trip, but when I mentioned taking off for the concert to my boss, she insisted we use her membership and have a good time. I was not about to pass up that offer.

“And, if you want, we can even get massages in the spa. I know you’ve been pretty stressed lately,” I mentioned, causing Ash to whip her head in my direction.

“You’re not serious, are you? Oh my gosh, that would be so great, honestly.”

I laughed and nodded my head, finally stepping up to one of the workers at the front desk to check in. We found ourselves put on the 18th floor, and while approaching the elevators, we noticed a small group of three men waiting for an elevator to make it to the lobby. As the doors sung open, we followed the men into the elevator, stopping dead in our tracks as the doors closed and we came face to face with the men we were riding with.

There, leaning against the railing of the back wall of the elevator, was the man himself: Mr. Kwon Jiyong. As we made eye contact, both his manager and body guard opened their mouths to say something. I quickly made a small oh and spun on my heel to punch in our floor number.

“Ohhh no,” I said, seeing the button for the 18th floor already lit up. From beside me, I heard a small gasp, causing me to whip my friend around to face the doors of the elevator.

“Isn’t tha-“ Ash had no time to finish her sentence as I slapped a hand over her mouth and shook my head with wide eyes. I was in shock, to say the least, and I had no idea what to do other than avoid and ignore. I had dreamt about running into GD randomly and creating a wonderful relationship out of a small encounter, but now that it was actually happening, I couldn’t even turn to look at the superstar. From behind us, I heard a chuckle and a throat being cleared.

“Uhm, excuse me—miss?” His manager slightly tapped me on the shoulder. “Aren’t you going to push your floor?”

Ash looked past me toward the numbers and gasped again. “Holy shit,” she said barely loud enough for even me to hear.

“Um I—uh…we’re on the 18th floor, too…” I stuttered quietly, flashing my key cards in his direction as proof. As Ash and I exchanged looks of shock, the three men started speaking to each other lowly in Korean.

Ash nudged my side, knowing full well I could understand them, but I was reluctant to listen in on their conversation. After receiving dirty looks, however, I finally gave in to both Ash and my own curiosity.

“All I’m saying is that maybe you should switch with me. You might not have a body guard right down the hall, but you won’t have fans bombarding you,” his manager whispered, trying to make his tone light-hearted to mask their heavier conversation from us.

“Is it really that big of a deal, though? I mean, they aren’t even being annoying right now. I think I can handle this one, man.” My legs almost melted at the sound of Jiyong’s smooth voice, and the sound almost kept me from hearing his body guard’s response.

“Yeah, but you never know. They could just be in shock. Didn’t you see the girl in the camo? She looks like she might be a crazy one when the shock dies down.”

Before I could stop myself, I gasped and whipped my head in his direction, sending off a glare that met three confused and bewildered faces. My eyes widened with the realization that I had just given myself away, and I was lucky when Ash pulled me out of the elevator.

“Oh, yeah, she speaks Korean, by the way!” she yelled behind her, speed-walking with me in tow. As we rounded the corner closer to our room, a maid dropped a stack of folded towels right in front of us.

“Oh, miss, I am so sorry,” she began, but I cut her off by reaching down to help her pick up her fallen linens.

“Please, don’t apologize, accidents happen.” As I smiled up at the maid, Ash started to chuckle and look past us to the three men also coming down the same hallway as our room. I sprung up to get closer to our room, taking the key out of its sleeve to unlock to door.

As I make my way quickly into the room, Ash yells behind her. “Oh, and she’s a huge fan of yours!”

Throwing my bags on the ground and myself on one of the beds, I covered my face in embarrassment.

“So, what did they say in the elevator?” Ash asked, scanning the room with her newly found luxury. I sighed and sat up, looking at my outfit in the mirror across from me. My ripped jeans were hiding under the oversized t-shirt and camo jacket, and my black boots were now hanging half-way off my feet as I tried to get comfortable. My face was red as I took off the yellow-tinted glasses I was wearing to look at my best friend.

“Basically, they’re worried about GD being on the same floor as us, he doesn’t seem to mind much, and then the big guy said we could be crazy and that the ‘girl in the camo’ looks like the crazy one,” I said, using my fingers to quote the air before resting my chin in my hand.

“Wow, I guess I’m not the crazy one anymore.”

-----

Later that afternoon, Ash and I headed downstairs to dinner and to find a liquor store that sold cheaper alcohol that what they sold by the drink at the bar inside the hotel. We briefly ran into GD and his entourage as we left our room, finding Jiyong to be in the room exact opposite from ours. We ate an expensive burger at one of the restaurants in the hotel, and by the time we made it back to our room after shopping around and buying a good-sized bottle of vodka, it was midnight.

We made ourselves drinks and talked about the events of that day, and how lucky we were to see GD up close and personal, even if his body guard said I looked crazy. In the end, we decided to brush it off and take it as him just doing his job. After all, we wouldn’t want him to slack off and put Jiyong in actual danger if we really were super crazy. As we finished off our drinks, I continued to tell Ash how excited I was for the concert the next night, only to find her sound asleep when I turned to face her. Although I wanted to keep talking to her all night, I knew she was tired and figured I should get some rest, too.

Thirty minutes later, however, I realized I was just not getting any sleep. Slipping out of bed, I shoved my feet in a pair of slippers and threw a silk robe over the shorts and tank top I had put on for bed. I grabbed my phone and a room key before quietly making my way down the hall to the sitting area next to a wall of windows. I sat in the silence of the night, watching the way the city lights twinkled across the sky, something I had found a fascination with in every city I stayed in. As I took a couple of photos with my phone, I noticed a tall figure out of the corner of my eye plopping themselves down in the chase across from me, making me yelp and jump a foot into the air above my seat.

“Hey, oh, I’m really sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” the voice cooed with a heavy accent, seeming to be laced with genuine concern.

When I brought my crossed arms away from my face, my mouth automatically positioned itself into a perfect ‘o’ as I got a good look at the man in front of me. Jiyong’s face shifted from concern to a shy smile as we made eye contact, and I curiously scanned him for any signs of potential danger. He might have been my personal favorite artist, but it was 2 AM and this was a hotel. He chuckled and scooted to the edge of his chair, extending his hand towards my guarded figure.

“Sorry, I just recognized you from the elevator and thought I would introduce myself. I’m Jiyong, but I’m guessing you already knew that? I don’t mean that to sound very…full of myself, I just never know how to introduce myself to people who are already…you know, who already know me.” His smile was wide, and I found myself relaxing as I reached for his outstretched hand.

“Y/N. Sorry about the incident in the elevator. I really didn’t want you worrying about two fangirls when you’re in your hotel. I bet it could get really annoying to not have much privacy,” I explained, trying to make the situation earlier seem less awkward. “And please, if you would prefer you can speak to me in Korean. As my friend, Ash, kindly yelled out, I do speak it pretty well.”

He smiled and leaned back into his chair. “Thank you, really. My English is pretty good, but it’s hard sometimes to gather my thoughts. Are you fluent?”

“I guess so. I’ve been speaking it since I was maybe twelve. It’s a long story, but it has to do with my grandfather and my impending business career,” I laughed, waving him off.

“That’s really cool, though. It’s tough to learn a language other than your mother tongue. Believe me, Japanese and Cantonese kick my ass.”

I laughed and gave him a big smile. “So, what are you doing out here this late, anyhow? And without your babysitters? Oh, sorry, I really hope that isn’t rude…” I started to backtrack, realizing how it sounded.

“No, it’s true! Sometimes I need a break from them,” he genuinely laughed, a sound I had never heard through the internet. “I just sometimes can’t sleep and need some time for myself, you know? It sometimes gets lonely in a big hotel room that’s big enough to sleep a family of four. Sometimes I just get…lonely. Anyways, why are you out here at 2 in the morning? You can’t even use jet lag as your excuse!”

“Oh, I just couldn’t sleep. Ash fell asleep on me and I just thought I’d sit out here for a bit. Just feeling a little grateful for my life right now,” I smiled before continuing in a small voice. “Plus, I’m pretty excited for your concert tomorrow.”

Jiyong threw his head back with a laugh, a sound I was beginning to crave after the little time we had been sitting together. “Well I hope I don’t disappoint.”

“I’m sure you’ll be fantastic.”

He smiled and his gaze felt heavy on my cheeks, causing me to flush with embarrassment.

“So, what do you do for a living?”

“Well, I just got my bachelor’s degree almost a year ago in Business Management, and I landed a big job right before graduation at this huge company writing their training programs. It’s a really great job. I get to work from home, unless I’m traveling to give a seminar. I originally had plans to go to law school, I even have an internship with some pretty big lawyers in my area, but I’m not sure anymore. It’s not official yet, but a CEO position is in the works with a company that my grandfather was close with. I don’t know, we’ll see. Anyways, it actually sounds pretty boring out loud. It definitely dulls in comparison to your job,” I chuckled, leaning up against the back of the lounge chair I sat on.

“No, no! You sound like a very dedicated person. I like that. What do you want to do? Do you want to go to law school?” He leaned forward, seemingly interested in my answer. This was bizarre. My favorite superstar sitting across me, asking me about my life, and genuinely being interested. I could feel my entire body heating up in the center of his attention.

“I mean, I do. I did. I don’t know, this CEO position will allow me to travel and have creative influence on the products and projects. I just almost feel like I’m not earning it, you know? Like I’m only being offered because my grandfather was some big shot. I work really hard for what I have, and I don’t like the icky feeling when someone tells me I only have what I have because of who my grandfather was. I mean, he wasn’t even that present in my life.”

When I was finished, Jiyong sat with his lips pursed for a few seconds before responding to my spiel. “Well, maybe you aren’t being given the position, maybe you were chosen because of your drive. From what little you’ve told me, you seem like a very dedicated and hard-working person. Maybe you should give it a shot; you can always go back to law school if it ever comes back up.”

For the first time that night, I gave him the biggest smile I had to give. We sat in a comfortable silence, gazing out the window to the city beyond. It was nice, but I was afraid our moment would be cut short any time soon.

“So, are you really that lonely?”

Jiyong’s gaze slowly met mine before it drifted off to the city lights again. He stood and approached the window, sliding his hands in his pocket with a sigh.

“Sometimes. When I’m performing, I feel the adrenaline and I am so grateful for the life I was given. Not that I’m not grateful when I’m off the stage, too…”

I timidly made my way to his left side, standing a couple of feet from his position in front of the window. “But other times, I feel like everything and everyone is watching my every fucking move and I have to be beyond perfect. It’s suffocating sometimes.”

I watched as he used his index finger to outline the buildings of the skyline in front of us on the glass. “I can understand that. It’s like when you’ve been carrying a box full of shit just fine until someone starts watching you and says, ‘hey don’t drop that,’ and you fucking drop it.”

“Great metaphor,” he chuckled.

“But seriously, you shouldn’t have to sacrifice your own happiness and well-being for someone else’s. It’s human nature to want to create the most happiness, but sometimes we forget that we can only feel our own, you know? It’s hard to do, I know. I’m probably being really hypocritical right now, but I do believe it.”

Jiyong turned on his side, leaning his slim frame against the thick glass of the window to look at me with a small smile on his face.

“I really enjoy listening to you talk,” he said, no doubt turning my face into a tomato.

I hadn’t realized we were standing so close until he took a hand out of his pocket to move the piece of hair I didn’t know was dangling at the side of my face. It was a seemingly innocent gesture at first, swiping at it as a good friend would, but when his hand slid past my cheek and behind my ear, I noticed the first glance towards my mouth. His tongue darted across his bottom lip and I found myself leaning in closer to the sight. When our lips touched, it seemed like the world had stopped turning for a second. The kiss was light and sweet, his lips soft and his mouth tasting slightly of spearmint and tobacco. He held my face delicately in his hands, as if he might break me if he held on too hard, and my hands moved up to rest on his stomach. I was definitely turning into putty in his hands, and I knew he was getting weaker with every peck.

Suddenly, a gasp interrupted us, and we jumped apart in shock. The cleaning lady quietly and quickly said her apologies before rushing past the sitting area, avoiding any and all eye contact. I looked over to see Jiyong’s pink face with his hand rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment. He shyly looked over at me and smiled, running a finger through his hair.

“I’m sorry.”

“Why are you sorry?” I asked, crossing my arms in defense.

“I shouldn’t have done that without…warning, I guess? Being so in the open? I don’t really know what I’m apologizing for. I’m definitely not sorry for liking it,” he smiled, taking a few steps closer.

“I—uh…yeah,” I said, hanging my head down to hide my flushing cheeks.

“Anyways, do you want to hang out a little more in my room?” he said before his eyes went wide and he started backtracking. “I-I…I mean you don’t have to if it would make you uncomfortable, I just wanted to hang out with you some more and I didn’t want to chance someone who knows who I am seeing and I know your friend is asleep so I just thought…you definitely don’t have to if you don’t want to.” I smiled as he became visibly anxious, hoping I didn’t take his invitation the wrong way.

“Sure, I’m really not very tired anyways.”

 ------

The mood was light and fun as Jiyong and I sat cross-legged on his bed playing Never-Have-I-Ever with our fingers. We had learned many things about each other, including Jiyong’s embarrassing mistake of getting in the wrong car and his concert being the first I would ever attend the next day.

“I cannot believe you have never been to a concert before!”

“Nope, you’re going to be my first,” I said, causing us both to laugh at my choice of words.

“Well, how about you and Ash come to the rehearsal, too? I can get you tickets and backstage passes, if you want.”

I stared at him in bewilderment and wondered just how I got into this situation, sitting in front of the one and only G-Dragon, being offered VIP tickets. “Uhh—yeah! That would be so cool! I mean, if you are okay with it, I guess,” I said, backing off when I heard my inner fangirl bubble at the surface.

“Okay, then. Now, it’s my turn I believe. Never have I ever…” he looked down at his one remaining finger and my two while strategically thinking. “Never have I ever ridden a horse.”

“What?! Oh, come on!” I cried as I held up one remaining finger. “You’ve seriously never ridden a horse? Not even when Youngbae rode one for the Bae Bae music video?”

“Nope, not even then. I’ve always wanted to, though!”

“Ugh, okay. Well let’s see…I’ve got to make you lose.”

“Wait! I have an idea. Loser grants winner one wish. Deal?”

I eyed him warily before nodding my head in agreement. “Okay, fine. I have the perfect one. Never have I ever made out with a dancer!”

He laughed and pointed his remaining finger at me. “Not true! You just kissed me!”

“You’re far from a dancer!” I fought back, making Jiyong fall back onto the bed in a fit of laughter.

“That’s fair, but also…” he said, sitting back up. “I’ve never made out with a dancer, either.”

He laughed again when my eyes widened and my mouth hung open.

“What!? Ugh, okay, lay it on me.”

Jiyong contemplated for a minute, tapping his finger on his lips, showing you every chance he got that he was still in the game. After a while, an evil grin took over his face, and I nervously awaited his statement.

“Never have I ever…made out with someone of the same sex. And kissing and making out is totally different, by the way.”

I gaped at him, eyeing him up and down before slowly pulling my last remaining finger down into my palm.

“What?! I didn’t really think it would make you lose.”

“It was a long time ago, I was drunk, let’s move on,” I said, falling back onto the bed.

“Okay, okay. I guess it doesn’t really matter, since I won! You owe me one wish, Y/N.”

“Okay, Jiyong, one wish. What is it your tiny black heart desires?” I asked, leaning up on my elbows to look at him.

Jiyong laughed and leaned forward slightly before whispering his wish.

“Kiss me.”

My head whipped in Jiyong’s direction as he made his wish, biting my lip when I found him already staring at my mouth.

“Well, I mean, I don’t want to be a sore loser,” I said before sitting up better to reach his face.

He slowly leaned into me, our noses barely grazing each other’s until our lips finally touched for the second time that night. His lips were still soft, his most still tasted intoxicating, but unlike the kiss before, this one was a little firmer, a little hungrier. He pulled away for a brief moment as a sort of test before he repositioned his lips back onto mine. I placed my hand on the back of Jiyong’s neck, pulling him into me more as he took it as a sign to deepen the kiss. His hands found my hips, pulling on me until I was straddling his waist as he sat flush against the headboard.

He sucked my bottom lip into his mouth, eliciting a small moan from the bottom of my throat. I could feel him smile into the kiss, and I decided to get a little revenge by biting lightly on his lip while gently pulling at the end of his hair. The groan I received in return was more than enough to set me on fire, subconsciously moving my hips slightly into his. As my clothed core made contact with his sweat pant-clad bulge, we both made an audible gasp, our lips parting for a mere second, and Jiyong pushed his hips further up to meet mine.

With our hips still moving together and his bulge growing bigger and bigger, Jiyong pushed his hands up under my tank top to caress my waist and slip his hands past the back side of my shorts. He soon left my mouth to trail his kisses down to the base of my neck, to the backside of my ear, and the top of my cleavage. All the while, the feeling of his rough fingers sent shivers down my spine, and I flung my rode across the room in one quick motion. Jiyong chuckled into my neck and continued to raise my tank top until it sat just above my bra, suddenly trailing his hands back down my side.

In frustration, I unhooked my bra and pulled it off along with my tank top in a rush. Jiyong’s mouth left my body to gawk at my chest, and I suddenly became very aware of my naked breasts, covering them with my arms as my face and neck turned red.

“Don’t, baby.”

Jiyong’s eyes were full of adoration as he peeled my arms away from my chest and rested them on his clothed chest. He reached up to take a breast in each hand, rubbing the pads of his thumbs over each nipple gently. I threw my head back at the feeling of him touching me, letting a small moan run past my lips.

Jiyong’s t-shirt soon became a barrier that needed to go, and he was more than happy to shed the material when I tugged on the hem. Our lips reattached briefly before he flipped us over, nestling himself comfortably between my legs. I moaned into his mouth as I felt his dick pressing against my core through our clothes, twitching my hips up in need of that sweet, sweet friction. His kisses began to travel once again down my body, leaving open mouthed kisses down my chest, on each of my nipples, and trailing down my stomach until he reached the hem of my shorts.

He looked up at me and I moaned as he hooked his index fingers into the top of my shorts, pulling them down slowly until I was left in my dark blue panties. He came back to my mouth, kissing me urgently as his fingers slowly outlined my lips through my panties. The slower he traced, the wetter I became, and I was soon pulling on his hair and wanting more. His lips left mine and he locked eyes with me as his hand slipped inside my panties, my mouth dropping open in pleasure.

“Damn, baby, you’re so wet. Who made you this wet?” The sweet, shy boy that had innocently invited me into his room was long gone, and all I could do was moan in response.

Jiyong’s body once again moved down my body until his mouth hovered over my clothed core. He placed an open-mouthed kiss to the outside of my panties, just south of my clit, before he vigorously tore off my panties in one swift motion. I thrusted my hips up with the new-found breeze, but Jiyong locked his arms around my knees to keep me in place as he kissed around my lips.

“Fuck, would you just—please baby,” I moaned as he finally plunged his tongue deeply along my slit. His tongue worked hard as I moved the little I could under his hold. He looked up at me as he came up to suck on my clit, driving me closer to the edge that I was already quickly approaching.

As I pushed my fingers through his hair, Jiyong circled his index finger around my opening, slowly pushing it in as I began to moan louder at my approaching orgasm. His mouth sped up to drive me off the edge, and his finger curled up to hit a sweet spot as I spasmed and crunched up with the intensity of my release.

I twitched as I pulled on his head, trying to pull his mouth away from my oversensitive lower half. When he finally made his way up to my mouth, he replaced it with the flat of his hand, slowly rubbing me in soothing circles.

Jiyong sweetly kissed my lips, as if he hadn’t just given me the best orgasm of my life, and I laid there trying to catch my breath.

“Oh my god.”

“Yes?” He giggled, the cockiness vanishing as a genuinely caring smile graced his face.

I pulled him by the neck to kiss him again when I noticed he was still in his sweatpants, a dangerously hard cock just waiting to be freed.

“Um, Jiyong? You need some help here?” I said, ghosting my hand over the outline of his hardness through his pants.

“Oh, please. I thought you would never ask,” he groaned as I slipped my hand inside his boxers.

I pushed him down on the bed beside me before kissing down his chest and pulling his boxers down along with his sweatpants. The sight of his erection made me tingle, and I settled myself between his spread legs. I looked up at Jiyong as I lightly licked the tip of his length, sliding my hand down the shaft towards the base. I slowly started to move my hand as I engulfed the head of his cock, watching as his face contorted in pure bliss. His hand came down to the back of my head, and I welcomed the slight thrust he gave for me to take more of him into my mouth.

As I moaned around his dick, he screwed his eyes shut, stroking and moving the hair out of my face. Suddenly, Jiyong pulled me away from him, causing me to look up in confusion.

“I want to fuck you, so bad.”

All I did was nod before Jiyong sprang off the bed in search of a condom he had seen in his suitcase. When he returned, I spread my legs in anticipation, rubbing my still-sensitive clit until he managed to roll the condom on.

Jiyong placed a pillow under my lower back and lent down to kiss me sweetly. As we kissed, I could feel his tip lightly pushing against my entrance, and it took all that I had to not buck my hips and force him to enter me.

“Are you ready?” He whispered against my ear.

“Yes, baby, please.” I would have usually hated that I sounded so whiny, but in the moment, all I could care about was feeling him deep inside of me.

He slowly entered me, giving me time to adjust to his cock, and paused when he was all the way in. I threw my head back in pleasure at the feeling of him filling me up, and in no time I was ready for him to move.

“Jiyong, please move. It feels so good.”

The moment the words left my mouth, Jiyong was drilling into me with more might and speed than I had ever experienced with any past boyfriend. He was set at a relentless pace, and I was going to cum any minute.

“I’m c-cumming, oh my god!”

Instead of letting up, Jiyong fucked straight through my second orgasm, and a few strokes later, he emptied himself into the condom. He collapsed onto my chest, keeping his weight on his elbows, as he buried his face into my neck, placing soft kisses there. He finally peeled himself away from my sticky body and threw the condom away, quickly making his way back to the bed.

“You can stay here, if you want?” Jiyong commented, not waiting for a response before throwing the duvet over our naked bodies and pressing himself up against my backside. I hid my face behind my hand and nodded, a smile taking over my pink-tinged face.

“Why not?” I said, turning to peck his lips one last time before sleep overtook us.

[writesandramblings]

The Captain’s Secret - p.7

“Bites the Hand That Feeds”

A/N: Two chapters in one day! What can I say, the fact that everything they do in the show feeds so perfectly into my fanfic is really very inspiring. When Lorca said "fortune favors the bold," I about lost it, since I titled one of the chapters "Fortune Favors the Brave."

Also very happy that Lorca and Cornwell's relationship is as I expected, because that means I can proceed with the Cornwell stuff I had planned with only very minor adjustments. So, you can expect to see more of Cornwell down the line... For now, please enjoy some total adventure time instead!

Full Chapter List << 6 - Out of Bounds 8 - The Illusion of Choice >>

Carver parked the shuttle between the two little hillocks with ease, and though this wasn't quite enough to shield it completely from view, it was better than leaving it totally exposed. Dartaran homesteads were large by design and being parked far at the remote edge of two such estates lessened the chances of discovery considerably.

"All right, Carver, you know the drill. Anyone gets within a klick, you take this puppy up and keep out of trouble until we make contact. We can worry about extraction when the time comes, so long as you're still around somewhere to pick us up."

Carver flashed Lorca a smile that practically shone against the dusky tan color of her skin. She really was quite pretty. "You can count on me, captain."

"I don't doubt it. Rest of you, on me."

As they approached the barrier of Margeh and T'rond'n's estate, the difference was profound.

From the air, the hunters' domain was visibly much greener, carpeted with trees and other plants, but from the ground, it looked even denser. Layers of foliage dotted with flowers and growths of various colors were visible over the wall.

The wall itself consisted of two components: a concrete base that rose three and a half meters from the ground and an energy barrier generated by a system of poles and suspended wires rising another five meters from the concrete. The energy barrier had a faint hum at a distance that became more and more uncomfortable on approach. Not only was the barrier designed to keep prey inside, it was also designed to repel them by various means so they wouldn't approach in the first place.

Lorca winced and covered his ears. Russo seemed to be taking it especially bad, visibly reeling, and Billingsley looked disgusted.

Noticing the discomfort of her human companions, Lalana slowed her step and gripped her hands tightly together. "I am sorry, I did not know it was like this. I did not leave the house area."

"It's fine," grimaced Lorca, but Billingsley was glaring daggers at him and Lalana. "Russo, Morita, Lalana, you can hang back."

"Oh, this does not bother me," said Lalana, and continued forward with Lorca and Billingsley. Morita also proceeded forward, but only to grapple up the ladder so that Billingsley could reach the technological components of the wall to disarm the section. Then Morita joined Russo back at a more comfortable distance and scanned around with her rifle at the ready.

Billingsley opened her tool box. Her tools were packed in some foam. She ripped off two chunks, wet them in her mouth to soften them, stuck them in her ears, and wrapped her scarf around her head for good measure.

"May I?" asked Lorca, indicating her tool box.

"Fine," she said sharply.

The foam helped a bit, but even softened with saliva, it was a bit scratchy. Lorca put a hand on the ladder to steady it just in case.

"You don't have to be here," Billingsley said, taking hold of a ladder rung just above her head.

"I put you in this, don't make me regret coming over here to help."

With the rest of the crew standing out of earshot while she suffered through the pain, Billingsley felt emboldened to speak her mind. "Next time you want me for an away mission, don't. Just, don't." She proceeded up the ladder.

"Exactly why did you join Starfleet?" Lorca shot after her, but she either didn't hear him over the noise and the foam, or ignored the question.

After a few moments, she called down for a synchronic meter. Lorca located it in her toolbox and passed it up to her. Lalana sat on her haunches next to them, watching attentively.

Billingsley worked carefully but quickly, as eager to get the job finished as she was to do it right. There was a crackling sound. The faint energy glow on both sides of the pole she was working at flickered and went off. So too did the sound from those sections, lessening its intensity, though the painful buzzing continued from the adjacent sections so it wasn't completely gone.

Billingsley started down the ladder, hyperspanner in hand. "I've rerouted the power to bypass these two—"

Her foot slipped through the ladder as she stepped down and she tumbled backwards into the air. She didn't scream, there wasn't time, but for a moment she saw her hands stretched out into the sky towards nothing and panic swept over her like a rushing tide.

She squeezed her eyes shut as she landed, the air rushing out of her on impact, but instead of the hard ground beneath her spine, she felt like the ground had given way. She opened her eyes.

Lorca's face was inches from Billingsley's. One arm was around her back, the other under her knees. He looked mildly bemused. "Chief."

Horrified, Billingsley squirmed and he let her down. Jittery and embarrassed, she practically jumped away, almost stumbling over her own toolbox for good measure. She quickly tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

"You're welcome," said Lorca. Billingsley was still too shocked to say anything. Normally, Lorca would have thought this reflected yet another defect of her character, but in this instance, he let it slide. She was very clearly still processing what had just happened to her.

"That was very impressive," said Lalana. "You really are very adept at saving people."

Morita and Russo arrived with their gear. "Up and over," Lorca told them. "Carefully. We can't afford to lose anyone."

Morita went first and extended the ladder down the far side of the wall, then helped Russo raise and lower his equipment. Billingsley's toolbox went next, followed by Lalana, who ignored the ladder and simply hopped up the wall and then down the other side with ease.

Billingsley hung back. "Captain, I..."

"You usually wear magboots and gloves, don't you?" asked Lorca. "Because you grew up in high-G?"

Billingsley's eyes widened. Her cheeks reddened. She hadn't thought Lorca paid that much attention to the people on the Triton, especially given how everyone knew the assignment was only temporary until the Triton's upcoming decommission. "Yes, sir, but... it's no excuse."

"Could've happened to anyone, high-G or no. You think you can get up there again?"

"Yes, sir." She went to the ladder again.

"And, Sarah?"

Hearing her first name, her hand tightened on the ladder. "Sir?"

Lorca's face seemed much gentler. Kind, even. "I'll be right behind you."

Billingsley hastily turned away. "... Thank you, sir." She went up the ladder and Lorca followed right behind her.

The jungle was lush and full of life. Everywhere they looked, plants and animals abounded. Strange bird and bat creatures darted through the air, while whooping sounds emerged from distant trees that might have come from some kind of bird, or perhaps something like a monkey. There were flowers and fruits of every color imaginable and insects lazily buzzed through the air.

It would have been heaven to a biologist or botanist, but since they had neither in their little party, the richness of the living tapestry was somewhat wasted on them. Arzo would have liked it, Lorca thought. But they weren't here to catalogue new and unknown forms of life, they were here to complete a very specific mission.

Lalana took to these surroundings like a fish to water. She leapt into the trees almost at once and ran across the branches above them, pulling off leaves and flowers and fruits and berries with her tongue to snack on as they advanced. She even snapped a few bugs out of the air.

Morita took point while Lorca brought up the rear. Both knew better than to let their guard down around such beauty. Both the undergrowth and canopy were so thick, there was no telling what was hiding even two meters away from them. Billingsley's tricorder was next to useless in this situation. There were simply too many living things for it to provide any sort of information on lurking dangers.

On the plus side, the abundance of lifesigns also provided cover for them. Even if someone had been looking or known about their intrusion, it would have been very hard to find them.

Though they had chosen the barrier wall closest the house, it was still a decent walk. Margeh and T'rond'n's tract of land extended so far, Lalana had used the travel time on foot as part of the planning for her escape, and Lorca now fully appreciated why.

Lalana suddenly landed in their midst from a branch a good six meters above them, colored green as the trees. "Sliggen!" she exclaimed, practically bouncing. "Get into the trees!"

"What's a sli—"

There was a faint rumbling nearby. Deciding it didn't really matter what a sliggen was, they rushed towards the nearest trees with any footholds, handholds, or branches within reach and began to climb. Lorca practically hauled Billingsley up with him, mindful that she had the least climbing experience and was most likely to fall. Russo struggled to draw his equipment up into the trees, too, but Lalana smacked him with her tail. "Leave it!"

The rumbling turned into a mini-stampede very quickly and something like a giant centipede burst out from the undergrowth, snapping four giant mandibles into the air. It was almost as big around as a human, about twice as long, and thundered across the ground on more than fifty pointy legs that looked razor-sharp. They struck the ground with such rapid force there was a sharp thudding sound, and this sound multiplied by the quantity of legs produced quite a noise. Its forelegs were four times as long as the legs it walked upon and even sharper-looking.

Lalana was still on the ground. She jumped, very quickly, away from the tree Russo was climbing and landed heavily on the ground some distance away. The sliggen immediately whipped towards her and charged, but she was already up into the air and into the branches of the nearest tree, stomping her feet as she did.

Undeterred, the sliggen rushed up the tree trunk, slithering around it like a snake in Eden. Lalana did not stop for even a moment. She ran across the branch she was on and leapt clear through the air, soaring across the small clearing and into Billingsley and Lorca's arboreal refuge. "Sliggens hunt by ground vibrations," said said. "They are very aggressive and sometimes come to the house. The only thing worse than a sliggen is..."

Something roared with such strength, the trees shook around them. The multitude of large insects and flying creatures that had been present in the area seemed to have vanished.

The sliggen, which had moments earlier seemed hungry and murderous, now seemed terrified. It twisted around the tree in such confusion, it ended up trying to walk over itself. It hastily slithered down to the ground.

Giant footsteps pounded and shook the earth. The sliggen splayed its many legs out in confusion, disoriented as its primary method of navigation became untenable.

The creature that burst into the clearing was enormous. Lorca thought it to be about the size of an elephant, but had never actually been in the presence of an elephant, so wasn't entirely sure. Four-legged and covered in shaggy black-brown fur, the creature was shaped sort of like a yak or bison, with shoulders far more massive than its haunches, but with its head set almost flat into those same shoulders rather than protruding forward. You wouldn't think something of its size could navigate a jungle of this density, but it was built like a battering ram. It didn't move through the jungle so much as bash its way through any obstacles with a long trail of trampled trees and plants behind it.

"I'm going to go out on a limb and say that," said Lorca.

"Captain!" hissed Billingsley, aghast at his propensity to make a joke given the danger of the situation.

"Ssss!" Lalana hushed them.

The creature rose up on its hind legs and brought its front legs down on the sliggen with such force, it liquified the sliggen in two places. Dark purple goo splashed out across the ground. The intact sections of the sliggen writhed and twitched death throes.

But the monster wasn't done. It wasn't enough that it had killed the sliggen. It began prancing around on the sliggen's body repeatedly, seemingly just for the joy of watching the sliggen's innards paint the ground. It stomped and stomped until the sliggen was nothing more than eggshell fragments and purple paste.

The creature did not leave the clearing immediately. It began wandering around, sniffing, and walked up to a leafy plant. It opened its mouth and began chomping down on the leaves.

Unbelievably, the monster was vegetarian.

They waited as it meandered around, eating leaves, butting its deep-set head against trees for some reason. Wanton destruction? Dislodging of ripe fruit? Looking for companionship? Lorca had no clue. What he did know was that they needed this creature gone if they were ever going to continue, and it seemed unwilling to leave on its own.

He signaled Morita. They both raised their phaser rifles.

"Wait!" said Lalana, but too late.

Their shots hit the monster squarely in its haunch. Neither gun was set to kill; the goal had been to drive the thing away with a smack on its rump. Unfortunately, this was not how it reacted. It whirled about, bellowing so loudly everything shook again, and charged.

It hit the tree Lorca, Lalana, and Billingsley were in with such force, the tree groaned and tilted. Billingsley wrapped her arms and leg around the branch they were on with a shriek and Lorca barely managed to keep both his seat and his phaser rifle.

The creature backed up.

"Aim for the eyes!" said Lalana.

Lorca got off a shot just before the creature hit the tree again, hitting near an eye, but not directly in it. The creature hit the tree again with such impact it knocked the rifle from Lorca's hands. The rifle's strap was around Lorca, so it didn't fall far, but the tree shifted another five degrees and he was unable to get hold of the rifle while holding on to the tree for dear life. Additionally, though his rifle had been set to kill, the creature seemed entirely undeterred by its wound.

Morita managed a better shot as the creature backed up for a third go. The eye she hit burst and dribbled milk-white liquid down the creature's face. This drew its attention to the tree she and Russo were in, which was much smaller. When the creature charged them, it knocked their tree almost halfway down.

"Draw it's attention!" said Lalana, whipping Lorca's rifle back into his hand with her tail.

Precision was impossible, but also unimportant. Lorca fired off three shots in rapid succession, hitting the creature in its massive shoulder and successfully returning its attention back to the bigger tree. It charged them again. Lorca let out an involuntary shout as the impact reverberated up the tree and into his shoulder. Billingsley sobbed.

The creature took a step backwards, preparing for another charge. Lalana dropped from the tree onto its shaggy shoulder.

Feeling something land on it, the creature immediately bucked, but Lalana flattened herself against its back, the tendrils of her epithelial filaments grabbing hold of its fur like a thousand million tiny velcro hooks. It bucked again and again, each time pounding its massive, flat feet into the ground with tremendous force, but to no avail. Lalana was attached to it as firmly as its own fur. It was like she was an extension of its own body.

Lalana seemed to slide across the creature towards its face. Her tail managed to find its way onto the creature's wounded eye. Then it disappeared into the eye, almost as if sucked inside.

The creature roared with even more fury and began to charge with Lalana clinging to its face. Lorca could only watch as the creature prepared to smash Lalana into paste against a tree trunk.

Half a dozen monstrous paces from its target, the creature shuddered and collapsed, its momentum flipping it over as Lalana scrambled free and leapt away. The creature thudded harmlessly against the intended tree trunk, dead.

Lorca realized he had been holding his breath and gasped. Beside him, Billingsley whimpered.

The humans carefully descended from their branches, glad to be back on solid ground again. Billingsley didn't make it very far. Her legs were like jelly from how tightly she had been clinging to the branch and she remained shaken, but otherwise she was fine. "Nice shot," Lorca said to Morita. Russo went to check the communications equipment. It had gotten thrown aside when the creature hit the smaller tree, but was carefully-packed and intact.

Lorca and Morita joined Lalana beside the creature. Lalana's tail vibrated, expelling the creature's ocular fluid in a cloud of white mist. Morita nudged it with the tip of her rifle. It was well and truly dead. "Its eyes are right next to its brain," offered Lalana in explanation.

Russo and Billingsley made their way over together, Billingsley leaning on Russo for support. They all stood around the carcass, awed. "What was it?" asked Lorca.

"A leskos," said Lalana. "From Fhtadero III."

Part 8

[thedeviljudges]

“So what if we move things around in your office?”

Liam pauses, throwing a skeptical look at Veronica as she adjusts a few books on the shelf across the room. They’ve toppled over onto their sides due to the extra space on the shelf, but with lithe fingers assisting, they’re right back where they initially rested.

“You mean spending time undoing everything I’ve done to make this room appear professional?”

Incredulity blossoms across Veronica’s brow like Liam’s just lied through his teeth.

“I think you mean keeping the same setting you’ve had in here since you moved in,” she corrects. “And you’ve been complaining about stuffiness. I think it’s time for a change.”

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Liam lets out a sigh and settles back into the leather of his chair. Veronica’s not wrong to some extent. Work’s been busier than ever, and being stuck in his office for hours finalizing business deals and contracts has left him to his wit’s end. A break would be nice, but Liam knows better than to complain because it could be worse, and he’d rather not think of what that worse might actually entail.

“’m afraid something like that would have to wait anyway,” he murmurs, tone dropping like he’s letting out all of the fight within him - that fight being resentment towards his schedule and the fact that nowhere in there is a set time for him and his bed. Sleep’s always been elusive, but Liam thinks he’s been up for nearly two days straight.

And besides that, he misses Veronica the most.

In the meantime, Liam glances forlornly at the stack of papers on his desk. The pen he’d been using sits on top of them, a pinnacle of success and progress he’s made through each signature that’s been dotted across numerous lines. Vaguely, Liam thinks he can feel his hand ache from overuse.

“We’ll find the time,” Veronica says softly. She’s leaning against the edge of the bookcase before she pushes off of it. Light on her feet, her shoes make no distinct sound even though she’s chosen boots over heels today. Liam’s mind absently flickers through a memory of watching her dress every morning, sitting at the edge of their bed and slipping her feet onto soles that would carry her throughout the day. It’s so normal, such a routine at this point, but Liam’s fallen in love with the simplicity of them coexisting together.

When he blinks, Veronica’s there with a kind smile, looking down at him with a look she reserves only for the two of them. Liam feels that feeling he gets in his chest, the one that bubbles and flips and reminds him that every time he’s near his partner, he’s lucky. Liam’s the lucky one.

And god, he’s missed her.

“C’mere,” he practically pleads, gently tugging Veronica down onto his lap. Liam buries his face into the crook of her neck, inhaling the gentle sent of clean skin and perfume she must’ve put on this morning. Immediately, he feels her fingers dancing at the nape of his neck, a soothing touch that drains away any tension Liam knew was beginning to build up within his body.

“You should come home.”

The statement is simple enough, and Liam’s first reaction is to argue. He’s slept on the couch in his office plenty of times, but lately it’s become of the bane of his existence.

But now with Veronica so close and the gentle touch she thinks he deserves, all of his reasonings to oppose her demand die on his tongue. How can he argue with such a simple request? Liam’s never wanted home to feel more tangible than in this moment right now.

“Okay,” he whispers, pulling back to catch the brown of Veronica’s eyes. “I don’t know how I’ll do it, but I’ll finish the rest tomorrow.”

Veronica nods, and that’s most likely not in agreement but more of an assessment that Liam has given her the answer she wanted, maybe even needed, to hear.

“Good,” she replies, ready to slip away from Liam’s grasp. She’ll probably head back to her desk to gather her things before leaving the office without Liam, and it’s with that thought Liam’s guilt hangs over his head.

The thing is, it’s not like Veronica’s complained of his absence. This is the first time in their relationship the company’s been this busy - which isn’t to say they normally aren’t, but at least it’s never an influx of interest from consumers back to back. Of course the company he works for is pleased, and Liam’s pleased, and well, everyone is pleased, but it did mean taking on a few more after-office hours to prepare paperwork and meetings with other department heads.

So, Veronica knows it’s not his fault; she’s not said a word, and rather be angry about not seeing each other as much, she’s understanding to a degree that Liam knows he can’t keep this up for much longer.

“Let me take you home,” he says before she completely pulls away from him. Liam ignores the flutter of paper on his desk to watch Veronica’s face pull a select set of thoughts before settling on curiosity.

“You don’t want to stay and finish?”

Rather than answer, Liam sits up straight, fingers gently squeezing at Veronica’s side as if she’s an anchor in a sea of letters and office furniture. Liam gently taps the line of her jaw with his free hand before leaning in and pressing his lips against hers.

His gesture isn’t subtle, not with the two of them here alone, but he waits for her to move, to curl into his action by pressing up against him with a longing Liam hopes won’t ever be replicated in the future.

Veronica’s the first to pull back, eyes a little brighter and chest heavier until she seeks enough breath. She hums quietly and nods, finally shifting away from Liam to toy with her skirt given its ridden up a few inches above her knees. Once she’s done, she holds her hand out for Liam, a silent request for him to take it and follow her.

“We’ll get something to eat on the way home then,” she says, the arch of her brow pointedly telling Liam that she knows he skipped lunch to sit in his office.

Sheepishly, Liam takes her hand, curling his fingers in between hers. He thinks he ought to feel the tension slide right off his shoulders, but he’s surprised to find that there’s none there at all. Maybe that has to do with Veronica’s presence the moment she stepped into his office a few minutes ago, aimed at tackling the overall stress littering his second home.

Together they leave Liam’s office, him trailing behind just a few paces and admiring the fact that despite Liam’s rough appearance, it never ceases to amaze him that Veronica’s clearly put together in all the ways he will never be. She’s on time, and she dresses beautifully, and generally, she takes time out for herself often enough that Liam thinks he should take a page out of her book. But he’s used to stress and long hours and relationships that were more like flings than they were serious, and he tries not to blame himself for not being who he ought to be for Veronica.

Then again, if he said as much out loud, she’d tell him he worries too much, and she likes him the way he is just fine. After all, she hadn’t spent months pining over a man she didn’t know.

“I love you,” he hears himself say, a surprise that isn’t bad. He means those words every time he says them, loves the way they feel warm and light on his tongue.

They walk in silence until they reach the elevators, and Liam’s never bothered when Veronica keeps him waiting. More often than not, it’s worth it, and just as they step onto the elevator to take them down to the first floor, Veronica shuffles closer to Liam and smiles. “I love you, too.”

-

Liam’s break turns into a full-fledged weekend off. It’s no surprise, however, given Veronica’s persuasive when she wants to be and that thing with her tongue is, well, Liam clears his throat before opening his office door and flipping on the light.

While his office has a beautiful view of the city, letting streams of sunlight into his stuffy office, it takes a moment for Liam’s eyes to adjust to the room.

And then maybe a little bit longer than a minute because when he looks around, everything is out of place.

Everything’s been moved around - his bookshelf, his table, the couch, the desk. It’s all been rearranged, looking just as neat and professional as it had been before except the layout is different.

Liam cautiously walks to his desk, removing his jacket and draping it over the back of his chair. It’s then that he notices the post-it note. It’s taped to the front of the computer screen on his desk, yellow with black ink scribbled across the page. Liam pulls it off the desktop only to rub the pad of his thumb over the text.

Veronica’s signed it like the superstar she is along with leaving a smiley face that winks back at him knowingly.

Unconsciously, Liam smiles before returning the note, leaving it on the edge of the screen where it won’t hinder his vision. It’ll serve as a reminder that Veronica still surprises him, and that always makes Liam happy.

Looking around the room again, Liam already feels better. It’s new despite the furniture being familiar, but he’ll have to learn where to walk and not stub his toe, and he’ll have space to walk in front of the windows when he needs a view of life other than his own.

“Sometimes I hate how right you are,” he says to himself. Liam knows he’d be saying it to Veronica if she were in at the moment, but even though she’s not, Liam realizes he probably wouldn’t have to say a word anyway.

Veronica already knows, and just like always, it’s taken Liam a little longer to catch up. And either way, Liam’s not complaining; he’s definitely okay with that.

[blacklister214]

Lines: Chapter 4 (No One Else)

It felt as though the frigid air from the storm outside had found its way its heart. The snow, which had seemed so fortuitous earlier, was now his enemy. The streets of Moscow had been closed on account of the raging blizzard and the forecast predicted it would not let up for at least the next 12 hours. The hospital and the famed Moscow doctors Konstantin Rostov had wanted for his wife’s delivery were impossible for her to reach. She would give birth this hotel instead and thus far he’d hadn’t been able to find a single medical professional to help deliver the baby. He’d bullied the concierge into cold calling guest rooms in the hope of finding someone qualified and had himself started knocked on doors. Some guests had been sympathetic, others had been irritated, but no one had been useful.

Raymond banged on what felt like the millionth door, ignoring the ‘do not disturb’ sign. After a minute, when he’d received no answer he pounded again. Katarina was giving birth and whether it was his child or not. fate had placed the responsibility of its safe delivery on him. He would not go back to that suite empty handed. The door was suddenly jerked opened and a tall blonde woman with a sour expression greeted him.

“Vy slepoy?! (Are you blind?!)” Raymond took in the woman’s silk rope and flushed expression and deduced he’d interrupted a rather intimate interlude. Unfortunate as that was, he couldn’t risk either she or her partner was the answer to his prayers.

“Mne ochen' zhal' preryvat' svoy vecher, no mne nuzhen vrach ili akusherka. Sushchestvuyet zhenshchina rozhayet, i ona ne mozhet popast' v bol'nitsu. (I am very sorry to interrupt your evening, but I need a doctor or a midwife. There is a woman giving birth and she can't get to the hospital.)”  The anger left the woman’s face and for a long moment she stared at Raymond, dueling emotions struggling on her face. Finally she shook her head.

“Mne ochen' zhal', ya ne mogu vam pomoch'. (I'm sorry, I can't help you.)” She started to close the door, but Raymond caught it with his hand. He didn’t know what was going on, but the woman knew something. He saw the wedding ring on her finger and noted her husband hadn’t come to the door. She was having an affair and the hidden lover was the one with the skills to help Katarina.

“Pozhaluysta, net nikogo. Pozhaluysta. (Please, there’s no one else. Please.)” After a moment a small robed figure appeared behind the blonde. It was a woman in her late thirties to early forties. Petite frame, shoulder length brown hair. Shrewd eyes peering at him from behind wire frames.

“YA budu s vami v minutu. (I’ll be with you in a minute.)” The door closed and Raymond could hear the sound of an argument taking place behind the door. Two minutes later the small woman emerged, wearing a dark dress, heels, and a serious expression.

“Spasibo. (Thank you.)” Raymond truly meant it. The two women faced far more than social disgrace if their relationship was discovered. Attitudes toward homosexuality may have become more liberalized following the death of Stalin, but homosexual acts were still considered a crime. She was risking a lot to help him.

“Otvezite menya k materi. (Take me to the mother.)” Raymond nodded and together they hurried to the elevator. Along the way the woman asked him questions about the contractions, and how far along Katarina was. When they reached the door to the suite she asked him him directly if he was the father.

That was the question of the hour. “YA delovoy partner yeye muzha. (I’m a business associate of her husband.)” A quick pause made Raymond think she had noticed he hadn’t answered directly ‘yes’ or ‘no’. Sharp woman.

The woman gave him a long list of necessary supplies that he was in charge of procuring. The second he nodded is understanding she dismissed him like a general who’d issued her orders and took him for granted they would be followed to the letter. She disappeared into the room and he ran off to assemble the list of requested items. It felt good to be doing something productive.

Raymond had little trouble rallying the hotel staff to his cause. Maids and butlers delivered everything on the woman’s list and a few things that weren’t, such as snacks and candles. Eventually there was nothing left to take care off and Raymond had found himself staring at the door to the suite. Should he go in or not?

Katarina probably didn’t want him there. He had only been her target and now he was her blackmailer. Whether or not the child she carried was technically his, he doubted his presence would bring her anything resembling comfort. There was also the danger for himself. If he shared this experience with Katarina it would change the way he saw her. It would affect how he felt about the baby. He’d already crossed one line by interrogating her about her past. Did he really want to cross another? The wedding ring on his finger was an unsubtle reminder that he already had a family he had committed to. Carla and Jennifer had to be his priority. Allowing him to get closer than he already was, was a mistake. Raymond put his back to the wall and slide down. He’d wait here, at a safe distance.    

Raymond didn’t know how long he sat there before he drifted off, but before he knew it he was being shaken awake. “Vstavay. U nas yest' problemy. (Wake up. We have a problem.)” Raymond blinked the sleep from his eyes. “Rebenok kazennoy. (The baby is breech.)” Breech? That meant backwards. That baby was coming out backwards. That was dangerous. “Ona v neskol'kikh minutakh ot dostavki. Ochen' vazhno, chto ona ostavat'sya rasslablennym, ili mogut byt' oslozhneniya. Vy dolzhny pomoch' yey cherez eto. (She's minutes away from delivering. It is essential she stay relaxed, or there may be complications. You need to help her through this.)” Reddington mind and body froze. Him? He was probably the last person in the world Katarina wanted helping her.

“YA na samom dele ne tot chelovek, chtoby ... My pochti ne znayem drug druga. (I'm not really the right person to...We hardly know each other.)” The small woman’s lips pinched together in an expression of grim determination.

“Tsitiruya sobstvennyye slova, Dorogusha: ‘net nikogo’. (To quote your own words, Dearie: ‘there is no one else.’)” Raymond nodded and forced himself to plow forward into the room. Katarina sitting in the room’s arm chair, legs spread wide. Her forehead was dotted with perspiration from the effort of labor, and her breathing was ragged. When she saw him, she grimaced and closed her eyes.

“Of course it’s you.” Not exactly the warmest of welcomes, but then he hadn’t really expected one.

“You were hoping for your husband?” Raymond glanced outside and saw the snow had actually let up a great deal. He’d called Konstantin himself hours ago and the expectant father had sworn he’d get the first flight out, it the weather was indeed clearing he could be in the air already.

“It was supposed to be him.” He crossed the room until he was standing by Katarina’s side. The woman wordlessly moved into delivery position.

“Too bad, you’re stuck with me. Now you need to relax and breath. Your child needs you.” Katerina managed a short, pained laugh.

“My child? You mean my curse. My punishment for every terrible thing I’ve ever done.” Her face pinched in pain. Raymond got onto his knees and wordlessly held out his hand to his ex-lover. After a split second’s hesitation she took it and squeezed. He tried valiantly not to wince. Her firm was quite a bit stronger than Carla’s had been.

When the contraction ended he took a towel and wiped her forehead. “A child is never a curse. A child, even an unplanned one, is a blessing. I speak from experience.” When Carla had become pregnant Raymond had felt trapped. His future felt fixed at 20 years old. Now he considered Jennifer one of the greatest gifts he’d received.

Katarina groaned in pain.

“Pora. (It’s time.)”

Sheer panic flashed across Katarina’s face. “No! I can’t do this. Not here. Not like this.” Her eyes were wild and desperate.

“You have no other choice.” Katrina’s grip on his hand tightened. He was probably going to need an x-ray when all this was done.

“I can’t be a mother. I only did this for Konstantin and he’d not even here. I can’t do this alone.” She looked so afraid that on instinct Raymond reached out with his free hand and stroked her hair.

“You’re not alone. I’m here. Together, we can do this.” In that moment he didn’t see his betrayer when he looked at Katarina, he just saw a woman. The same woman he’d felt connected to since the first moment he’d laid eyes on her. The only woman he’d ever been in love with. That she hadn’t felt the same didn’t matter. That she’d betrayed him didn’t matter. That he was married to someone else didn’t matter. He was certain it would eventually, but for now she needed him and he wasn’t going to let her down.

Raymond didn’t know how much of what he felt passed from his eyes to Katarina’s, but some of the panic seemed to leave her.

“Okay.” Katarina groaned in effort as she began to push. After about a minute, the small Russian woman looked up sharply.  

“Khorosho, dorogusha, mne nuzhno, chtoby rasslabit'sya i ne tuzhit'sya. (Alright, Dearie, I need you to relax and not push.)” Katarina looked at the petite brunette as though she were insane.

“Relax and not push? Are you kidding me?!” The woman shook her head.

“Rebenok vykhodit v obratnom napravlenii. Ona nuzhdayetsya v kislorode i vashi myshtsy budut zablokirovany. (The baby is coming out backwards. It needs oxygen and your muscles are locked.)” Fear once again flooded Katarina’s beautiful features. Raymond felt an echoing terror that he prayed didn’t show in his face.

“Look at me. Squeeze my hand as tight as you can. Focus on my voice. Breath.” Katarina nodded and tried to do as he asked, but Raymond could tell it was an effort. She needed to be distracted. “Have you chosen a name?”

“Konstantin likes ‘Masha’. It’s the name of his great aunt.” Masha. It was a girl.

“Nice of you to let him have a say.” Was it because she hadn’t wanted the baby that she’d acquiesced to her husband preference? Had she not cared?

“You didn’t have one?” Raymond smiled ruefully.

“No. Carla wanted the name ‘Jennifer’. I prefered ‘Elizabeth’. ‘Lizzy.’ However after nine months of carrying our daughter and twelve hours of labor, Carla had the last word on the subject.” It was only fair, really. He’d done his best to be there for Jennifer, but Carla was the one who’s sacrificed her own career to raise her. She had more than earned the right to be the final authority on all matters great and small concerning their daughter.

“I’m sorry.” Katarina’s words were thick with pain. Strange that she offering him sympathy on such a minor disappoint, especially at the present a moment.

“It was just a name.” Katarina shook her head, tears in her eyes as she looked at him.

“No. I mean...I’m sorry. For everything.” Raymond had no idea what to say to that. In that instant he would have bet his life that she was telling the truth, that Katarina was genuinely remorseful for her actions towards him. He believed her...he just didn’t know if he had it in him to forgive her.

“Khorosho, prishlo vremya. Ot sebya! (Alright, it’s time. Push!)” The woman’s voice broke through the moment, and once again Katarina yelled with the effort of labor. Seconds later the sound of a baby crying filled the hotel suite.  Raymond’s heart soared, his crushed fingers momently forgotten.  

“U vas yest' devochka. (You have a baby girl.)” The midwife...or doctor? Nurse? Funny, he hadn’t really asked...made quick work of cleaning and swaddling the infant. She gently laid the child into Katarina’s arms. He and Katarina both peered into the tiny bundle.

“She’s so small.” Katarina’s voice was filled with the wonder Raymond was feeling, staring into the beautiful blue eyes of the baby.

“She’s perfect.” An overwhelming swell of love swept over Raymond as he reached down for the tiny hand poking out of the blankets. Small delicate fingers latched onto his index.

“Yes, she is. Hello Masha. I’m your mother. YA tvoya mat'.” He looked over at Katarina and found that she was beaming at the newborn. Her exhaustion did nothing to dim her radiance as she gazed at her daughter with undiluted adoration. Katarina’s looked up at him, tears of joy in her eyes, “You were right. She is a blessing.” He found himself smiling softly back at her. Every drop of anger or bitterness had fled him. It was as if his heart felt had forced out every negative feeling to make way for the overwhelming joy he was experiencing.

“Hello Masha. I’m Raymond. Raymond Reddington. So nice to meet you.” Raymond glanced up  at the small dark haired woman who had been silently observing them. He’d expected her to be sharing in the moment’s triumph, but her expression was solemn. Almost fearful. Was she worried he was going to expose her after what she’d done for him? For Katarina? For Masha?

He took a step toward her and the woman took a small step back. A dark tendril of unease wound through him.  Something wasn’t right. The woman hadn’t been afraid of him before, when he’d been a strange man knocking on her hotel room door, or when she’d found him in the hallway. What had changed?

Raymond reviewed the last few minutes, everything she’d seen him do and say, trying to identify what had spooked her. It didn’t make sense. He certainly hadn’t done anything violent. He’d hadn’t threatened or bullied or cursed. Everything he’d said had been in English so it wasn’t like she would have even known what he was saying...But she had understood. He was certain of it. Katarina had yelled at the woman, in English, and the woman had responded.

Panic began to fill him as he realised that he hadn’t just spoken English, he’d spoken American accented English. And just now he had used his real name, not the name of his cover identity. He’d never given her his alias, but Katarina had been in the room for hours, not to mention the floor manager, the hotel manager, or any of the other dozen people who’d been in and out while he’d waited outside. If someone had told her he was a British businessman named Phillip Morris and then she’d heard him with an American accent call himself Raymond Reddington it wouldn’t take a huge leap for her to realise the truth. God how could he have been so stupid?

“Mne nuzhno idti. (I have to go.)” The woman moved purposefully to the door and Raymond followed only a step behind.

“Wait..Thank you....I’m sorry I never asked your name.” He held out a hand for her to shake, seeing if she would take the bait. She paused a moment before taking it.

“Katya.” Damn it. He hadn’t wanted to be right. He couldn’t let her leave, not when everything in her body language was screaming the she was terrified of him. If she exposed him, he and Katarina would die. Masha would lose her mother. From the moment Raymond had looked into little girl’s eyes, he had known he was willing to do anything for the new life that he had witnessed entering the world. Katya hadn’t done anything wrong, the opposite really, and yet that didn’t matter. She was a threat to Masha, therefore she had to be contained.