#its in order from my first hand spun to my latest!

[falling-mist]

Its washing day tomorrow!

[dollerinna]

I WANT TO F**K YOU LIKE AN ANIMAL .

( black noir x fem supe!reader )

summary: the not-so-innocent things that go on in noir’s head abt you during The Seven meetings (wc: 1.8k)

warnings: MDNI, dub-con, rough p in v, doggy style, primal play themes, size kink, gagging, sobbing, corruption kink, Homelander being a weirdo at the end… just a lil’

first fic on this blog and I lowkey hate it- ughhh sorry if it’s all over the place!

The morning sun cast its golden glow upon the Manhattan skyline as The Seven assembled in their meeting room.

Homelander paced before them, detailing some new initiative he had conceived, but his words rang as emptily as the void behind his eyes. The Deep hung on his every syllable, eager as ever to prove his ass-kissing self with poorly-timed quips. This earned him nothing but a withering side-eye.

A-Train and Maeve listened with feigned interest, checking out of the conversation all but in body. Noir sat apart, idly fidgeting with a pen as his mind wandered. But his attention was drawn not to the usual faces, for there was a new supe among them—you, the latest fresh-faced recruit to their team.

On the surface, you appeared the absolute picture of attention—eyes forward, laser focused on Homelander as he tiresomely outlined the team's objectives.

It was cute, really, how focused the newbies always strived to be. Yet beneath the facade, you were actually anything but so, not when you felt an unseen gaze assessing you, weighing you.

Flicking your eyes discreetly aside, you confirmed a suspicion you could smell from miles away: Noir watching from across the table, his expression shrouded as ever behind the visor of his helmet.

Ugh, talk about creepy.

A subtle flutter of your eyelids shifted your line of sight, choosing to trust that his thousand-yard stare just so casually happen to drift your way and not an attempt to burn his gaze into your very soul.

Besides, what else could the guy possibly think about? Training, orders from Vought, simple pastimes—usually, such painfully mundane, run-of-the-mill thoughts occupied him.

But little did you know in this moment, as he studied your presence from afar, his mental reflections took a turn less… innocent.

─────────────────

“N-Noir… mmph-… please…”

It wasn’t his doing, he didn’t ask to be plagued with this sickly obsession; but every time he heard your voice, it was as if sweet, smooth-spun sugar had come alive.

An alien lust scorched Noir’s consciousness, catapulting his fevered mind into unfamiliar territory. Try as he might, he couldn’t shake the sinful thoughts that stubbornly stuck to him like glue. Just the mere notion of ever being responsible for those pretty little sounds was enough for arousal to creep through his veins like a nasty virus, sapping what was left of his crumbling self-control.

Your every whine, your every moan, would be a siren's call that beckoned him to claim you, to strip away your composure until you were utterly, helplessly his. All he craved was to watch the light in your eyes dwindle, to witness your breaths dampening into shallow puffs of air that blanketed your gaze in a veil of fog, gradually muffling you into a stillness even quieter than he was.

And truthfully, it wasn’t a matter of whether you liked it or not.

Noir would ensure his touch left no room for refusal, his grasp iron-hard as he positioned your trembling, naked body on the floor to his liking—face pinned down, ass arched up, just as it should be. Yet even as he held you fast with a palm braced against your sweat-slicked spine, his other hand moved with a surprising tenderness, gently teasing loose and brushing apart the knotted strands of hair clung to your ruddied features.

He imagined the merest of touches would set your blood aflame, rumbling up a ripe groan from your core. “…Oh m-my god… fuck…” words fled your mouth on airless breaths, nearly inaudible but still enough for him to catch. In response, he’d slowly lift a finger to your glistening lips, accompanied by a soundless ‘shh’—a signal for you to behave.

After all, good girls should never cuss.

Large, strong hands would then greedily paw at the lush fat of your ass cheeks, the scratchy textured fabric of his gloves leaving blooms of red across your flesh. Spreading you open, he’d admire the way your juicy, moist folds parted slightly, the aching emptiness within your entrance eliciting an involuntary clenching—your muted moans, trapped in your throat, acting as a wordless plea for more of his touch, more of him.

He liked to think you’d be mere putty in his hands, before he was even close to fucking you.

Noir would take his sweet time exploring you, his curiosity of the human form eclipsing the immediate need to quell a white-hot carnal desire every red-blooded man gets. He was good at rearranging people’s insides, literally, but what if he flipped the script in a much different way?

Experimentally, he’d run the very tip of his gloved finger along the weeping slit of your sex, ghosting ever so lightly over your swollen, hypersensitive clit to collect your slick arousal. Then, without warning, he’d dip an entire digit into your quivering depths, reveling in the way your spongy muscles squeezed and welcomed him in.

Your breath would hitch at the intrusion, skin prickling with a visceral need as you eagerly shoved your rear back against his palm, craving more. However, just as swiftly, he would withdraw his hand, bringing it close to his face to observe it covered in your juices, inspecting how the slimy, milky-white essence connected a trail between his fingers.

Who knew light fondling and agonizing silence was all the foreplay you needed? (or at least, in Noir’s fanciful pornographic depictions of you)

Once done playing with his food, he’d drag his knees closer to your body, his hips flush against your ass, leaving your peripheral vision filled with nothing but his imposing, darkly-clad figure dwarfing your own. Without hesitation, he’d reach down to remove the codpiece off him, freeing his hefty cock which sprang forth in the air, where it stood rock-hard, veiny, and impossibly large.

Wrapping a hand around himself, the thickly-roped, buzzing veins were betrayed by each gritty pull of his glove, drawing a guttural grunt from behind his balaclava. He’d guide his erection between your warm folds, the engorged ridge of his tip prodding against your bundle of nerves, sending electric jolts of pleasure to crackle through your core, before he began to sheathe himself inside you with a push that drove him home.

With a grip possessive and firm around your waist, Noir quickly fell into a steady, almost robotic rhythm of sturdy pushes and pulls. Each punishing collision of your bodies was answered by the lewd, rapid sounds of skin-on-skin, making damn sure you felt every single inch of him as he rutted into you like a man possessed.

He’d only hope to see you struggle taking him all in, envisioning how the sheer scale of his size forced the very air out from your gasping lungs.

“P-Please Noir!… ngh-… my body can’t handle this much,” your once-lovely voice now ragged and frail, scraping sobs grinding your vocal cords near silence as you churned and coiled like a fawn caught in the clutches of a big, bad wolf. “Be gentle, I’m begging you!—-” You choked out weakly, bordering on a soft, pitiful whine.

Expectantly, a weighted silence followed suit from Noir. In his typical, unsparing fashion, he slipped a glove from his hand, jamming it into your mouth and effectively gagging you into silence, as if to say—pipe down, be a good girl, and take my cock like you’re supposed to.

Even without a single word uttered by him, it worked like absolute fucking magic.

Your torso would practically collapse under the onslaught, wobbly limbs giving way as you let Noir use your arched up, offering form like a personal fleshlight. His hips would retract further back in an excruciating slowness, simply marveling at your wetness coating the base of his member like a second skin, only to slam back into you with raw vigor.

Your tight, gummy walls would be offered absolutely no time to adjust to the relentless invasion of his girth, the sheer thickness of his cock forcefully stretching out your cunt to shape him, to the point it felt like he was trying to split you into two.

He’d yank your flexing thighs back to meet his brutal series of thrusts, burying himself into you to the very tilt as the fleshy head of his cock kissed your cervix, igniting a searing white bolt of static to lance through your vision, momentarily fracturing it.

The all-consuming, dizzying sensation hit you like a ton of bricks, toppling your senses and wrenching a strangled sob out from your slack jaw once more. This earned you another biting touch from Noir’s thumbs pressed into your sides, as if seeking to wring every gasp out of your chest, to hear your moans rattle through your ribcage.

However even your rawest cries were swiftly muffled, swallowed by the balled-up glove shoved roughly between your teeth, which reduced you to nothing more than a gagging, pleasure-drunk whore for him to claim.

─────────────────

Meanwhile…

“Welp, that about covers it for today,” Homelander announced with a thunderous clap, loud enough for it to ring through Noir’s ears and bring him back to the present.

Slowly, Noir spun his head back towards Homelander, who had just finished addressing the team while his own thoughts drifted to places where even the pearly gates of heaven wouldn't give him the time of day.

“Now shoo- and no more sloppy behavior. I’ll be keeping an eye on each and every one of you.” Homelander dismissed them with a casual wave and a chuckle laced with another one of his thinly veiled threats.

As everyone, including little-miss-oblivious-you, got up to leave the meeting room, Homelander sauntered over to Noir, heartily slapping a heavy hand onto his back. “Earth to Noir! I know that look—thoughts a million miles away behind that sphinx-like mask of yours,” giving a sly little shrug, he slanted a meaningful look towards Noir’s codpiece. “But methinks, someone here isn’t as impenetrable as I thought…” A thin wry smile played his lips, a subtle hint at his x-ray vision allowing him to see a particular something-something of Noir’s that was currently just as hard as his body armor.

“It might do you good to line that suit with zinc. Wouldn't want any unwanted eyes peeking where they shouldn’t, do we?" An amused exhale, part sigh part snicker, slipped out of Homelander as his gaze swept over Noir once more.

True to form, all he received in turn was Noir’s standard muteness, as soundless as a grave.

Homelander eased the quiet with a huffed laugh, rocking back on his heels as he tilted his head in playful study of Noir. "But don't worry," he added with a knowing smirk, "it happens to the best of us. But do try to keep your head in the game! And not with your other one, ‘kay buddy?” Homelander jested in mock-reproach as he landed one last waggish, firm slap between Noir's shoulders, flashing his gleaming white yet eerily pointed grin.

Noir remained statue still, no hint of feeling betrayed by his rigid posture despite the toe-curling awkwardness of the encounter, or perhaps he'd yet to fully realize Homelander had peered within and seen his aching, raging hard-on behind the suit's facade.

Noir silently watched Homelander shoot two playful finger guns, his cape swirled shut behind him before leaving the room.

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Pssst- Likes, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated in this household and keep me motivated! <3

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Apologies if there are any grammatical errors here, cuz I’m alr so done with this fic 😭😭😭

[cheynovak]

Sheriff’s Bargain - Part 2

Characters: Beau Arlen x F/Reader Y/N     

Summary:  Y/N, a seasoned con artist, is arrested after returning to Montana, where her past comes back to haunt her in the form of Sheriff Beau Arlen—the man she abandoned five years ago. Facing charges linked to a drug lord, she’s offered a deal to work as an informant. Torn between her criminal life and lingering feelings for Beau, Y/N must decide whether to help him bring down the crime ring or continue running from her past.

Warnings: Mentioning of breaking the law

English is not my first language 

*Please do not copy my work, reblog/comments/likes are appreciated* 

I worked with Beau and the sheriff's department as best as I could, but every day felt like walking a tightrope. No matter how much I helped, I couldn’t shake the feeling that they saw me as the devil in disguise—a criminal wearing a thin mask of cooperation. Beau, especially, kept his distance. Professional, detached. Like I was just another asset in his pursuit of justice. Maybe that’s what I was now.

The latest task was more difficult than I expected. I’d already given them all the intel I had, but most of it was old, whispers on the street, fragments of conversations from six years ago when I was doing jobs for Declan King. And in the criminal world, six years was a lifetime. They needed more than whispers. They needed something concrete.

So they wired me up and sent me back in. My target: King’s right-hand man, Grady. A dangerous guy with a reputation for sniffing out rats. I thought I could handle it—I’d slipped into and out of tighter situations before, but this one was close. Too close.

Grady wasn’t an idiot, and I felt him watching me the entire time, waiting for me to slip up. He got suspicious. Real suspicious. And he was right, all of the sudden I asked to meat pretending to be in trouble needing to loan money, I never asked my clients for loans, and they knew, but I played my part.

Things almost went south, but I kept my cool, spun a story about old times, and managed to walk out of there with a new bond, they would call me whenever they had a job for me. Whatever that may be.

I was shaking when I left their place, in desperate need for a drink.

But now, sitting alone at the bar, I could still feel the adrenaline coursing through me. I was shaking inside, no matter how calm I’d appeared on the surface. I’d been one wrong word away from being found out, and that scared me more than I wanted to admit.

The whiskey in front of me wasn’t helping. It wasn’t chasing away the cold fear that had settled in my bones, but I kept drinking anyway, hoping that eventually it would. The bar was dim, full of noise and life, but I felt distant from it all, lost in my own head.

That’s when I saw him.

Beau walked in, scanning the room like he always did, his eyes sharp and focused. He spotted me instantly, and I could see his jaw tighten as he made his way over. He didn’t belong here, not in this seedy dive bar with its sticky floors and cheap liquor. But then again, neither did I. Not anymore.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice low as he slid onto the barstool beside me. He didn’t order a drink. He just sat there, watching me, his eyes darker than usual.

I glanced at him, then took another sip of my whiskey. “Didn’t realize the sheriff was making house calls to dive bars now.”

“You should be more careful,” he said, ignoring my sarcasm. “Grady’s men hang around places like this. You don’t want to attract the wrong kind of attention.”

I laughed, but it sounded hollow even to my own ears. “I think I’ve already attracted all the wrong kinds of attention, don’t you think?”

Beau’s gaze didn’t waver. “What happened back there?”

I swallowed hard, my grip tightening around the glass. “I handled it. Just like I always do.”

“Barely,” he said, his tone sharp. “We were listening, Y/N. You were one step away from blowing your cover.”

His words stung, more than they should have. “What do you want me to say, Beau? I got in, didn’t I?”

Beau leaned closer, his voice dropping. “This isn’t a game. These people aren’t going to let you walk away if they find out you’re working with us. And if you go down, we can’t pull you out in time.”

I met his gaze, feeling a surge of frustration. “You think I don’t know that? You think I haven’t been living with that reality for years now? I tried to stay as far away from King as possible, I know what he is.” I set the glass down a little too hard, the sound sharp against the noise of the bar. “I’m doing this for you. For your case. Don’t forget that.”

There was a moment of silence between us, the weight of everything unsaid hanging in the air.

“For me? I didn’t start a life in crime, did I?” Beau finally said, his voice softer but rough. “No,” I said, my voice quieter now too. “But you asked me to help, didn’t you?”

He didn’t respond, just stared at me with those eyes that made it hard to breathe. I wondered if he saw it, the fear I was trying so hard to drown in whiskey, the exhaustion that came from years of looking over my shoulder. Or maybe he just saw me for who I really was, a criminal trying to play at redemption.

Beau sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Look, Y/N, I get it. I know this isn’t easy for you. But we’re in deep now. You keep going, and we’ll get King. But if it gets too dangerous, you need to tell me. You need to let me pull you out before it’s too late.”

I looked down at the glass in my hands, turning it slowly. “Look, don't pretend you even care for me after what I did.” Beau was quiet for a moment before he spoke again. “Maybe I am.”

There was something in his voice that made me look up at him, something I hadn’t heard in a long time. Concern. Real concern. For me. And that was what scared me more than anything.

“I can handle it,” I said, though I wasn’t sure who I was trying to convince—him or myself.

Beau’s eyes softened, but he didn’t push me further. Instead, he stood up, sliding some cash onto the bar. “I’ll drive you home. You’ve had enough for tonight.”

I wanted to argue, to tell him I didn’t need his help, but the truth was, I was too tired. Too tired of fighting him, of fighting myself. So I nodded, letting him guide me out of the bar and into the cool Montana night.

As we walked to his truck, the silence between us felt different. Not heavy with tension like before, but something else. Something almost… familiar. For the first time in years, I didn’t feel like I had to run. At least, not tonight.

But as Beau opened the truck door for me, the memories of last time I hopped in his car lingered in my mind.

The drive started off in silence, the only sound the steady hum of the engine and the occasional bump in the road. I stared out the window, the dark Montana landscape blurring by, trying to piece together the tangle of emotions that had knotted up in my chest since Beau walked into that bar.

I wasn’t sure how to explain it to him—or if I even wanted to. Finally, Beau broke the silence. “Why?” I blinked, caught off guard. “Why what?” He glanced at me, his jaw tight. “Why do this? Work with me. Was it just because I asked?”

I sighed, looking back out the window. “Yes, because you asked. What else was I supposed to do? It was either help or rot in a cell.”

He shook his head, like he was upset with the truth, gripping the steering wheel a little tighter. His voice dropped, more raw now. “Why date me back then? Was it just for the money? Another job?”

The question hit me harder than I expected. My stomach twisted, and I knew this conversation was inevitable, but I wasn’t ready for it. I could feel his eyes on me, waiting for an answer, and I stayed quiet, hoping that maybe if I didn’t respond, the question would disappear. But my silence spoke louder than words.

I owed him an explanation. After all this time, he deserved at least that much. “At first... yeah,” I admitted softly, the words heavy in my throat. “It was about the job. You seemed like someone I could get intel from, maybe sell it and make a quick score.”

I could feel him tense beside me, his grip on the wheel tightening. “Figures,” he muttered under his breath, but he didn’t interrupt.

“But then…” I continued, my voice almost a whisper, “I realized you were a good man. Different from anyone I’d ever met. And that’s why I left.”

Beau gave a short, humorless laugh, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, but it wasn’t a smile that reached his eyes. “I’m sure you’ve stolen from good men before. What made me different?”

I looked down at my hands, fidgeting with my fingers, the weight of his question hanging between us. “You were different, Beau. You didn’t deserve to be dragged into the mess I was in. You were too… good for me... You still are.”

He was quiet for a moment, his eyes fixed on the road ahead. I could feel the frustration rolling off him in waves, the unsatisfied tension in his smirk. “Good men get conned all the time, Y/N. It’s not about deserving.”

“I know that,” I said, my voice trembling slightly. “But with you, it felt different. You made me see something in myself I didn’t want to face. That’s why I left, not because I didn’t care… but because I cared too much.”

Beau glanced over at me, his eyes softened, though the hurt was still there, just beneath the surface. “You could’ve stayed. Maybe we could’ve figured it out.”

I shook my head, tears prickling at the back of my eyes. “No, Beau. You deserved better than the mess I was, better than someone who couldn’t even be honest with you.”

He didn’t say anything for a long time, just drove in silence, and I wondered if I had said too much or not enough. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he sighed deeply.

“You know,” he said, his voice low, “ I was angry when you left. But what hurts more now is that you didn’t trust me enough to let me help you. To see who you really were, to get you out.”

I swallowed hard, feeling a lump form in my throat. “I didn’t what to get out, Beau." He looked at me, "And now?" "I-I, I don't know… at least I’m trying to, I guess.”

We didn’t say much after that, the silence between us heavy but not as suffocating as before. There were no easy answers, no way to fix the past. But maybe, just maybe, there was a way forward, even if it was messy and uncertain.

As Beau pulled into the driveway of the safe house where I’d be staying for now, I took a deep breath. This wasn’t over—neither the case nor whatever this was between us. It felt like we were standing at the edge of something, and I wasn’t sure if I was ready to step off or if I was going to fall.

I asked if he wanted to come in. He hesitated, his hand hovering over the keys still in the ignition, eyes locked on the house ahead. For a moment, I thought he might say yes. But then he shook his head, his jaw set. “Not tonight,” he said quietly, his voice rough, as if it took more effort to say those two words than he wanted to admit.

I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat. “Okay.”

The air between us felt heavy, weighted down by everything unsaid, everything I couldn’t fix. I jumped out of the car and started walking toward the house, the cool night air biting at my skin. With each step, I felt a strange mix of relief and regret—relief that we had finally talked, that we’d gotten more out in that car ride than we had in all the weeks working together. But regret… because I’d hurt him. And seeing the hurt still lingering in his eyes twisted something deep inside me.

The porch light flickered as I reached the door. I fumbled with the key, but my mind was still back in the car with Beau. He’d been distant, cold even, for most of our time working together. But tonight, for the first time in years, he let some of that guard down, even if just for a moment.

I should have felt good about it. I should’ve felt relieved. But the truth was, knowing I had caused him that pain… it felt horrible. Worse than I’d imagined it would.

Once inside, I leaned against the door, closing my eyes for a moment, trying to calm the storm of emotions swirling inside me. I wasn’t used to this—feeling this way, caring this much about someone other than myself. It was easier when I was just a con, slipping in and out of people’s lives without looking back. But with Beau… I’d let myself care. And now I couldn’t escape the consequences of that.

I hurt him, and I didn’t know if I could ever undo that.

I opened my eyes, my heart pounding as I took in the sight of the trashed room. Furniture overturned, papers scattered, and the uneasy silence that followed the realization that someone had been here—looking for me. The blood drained from my face. I fumbled for my phone, my hands trembling as I dialed Beau’s number. He picked up on the first ring.

“Beau, someone’s been here. The place is smashed—”

“I’m still close. Stay put. I’m on my way.”

Minutes felt like hours as I stood in the wreckage, waiting, every sound making my pulse spike. When Beau arrived, he rushed to me, his eyes scanning the room before settling on me, his jaw tight. He didn’t say anything at first, just placed a hand on my arm, grounding me in the chaos.

His colleagues from the department showed up soon after, combing through the place, searching for clues, for any sign of who had broken in. But I already knew who. Kings men. He must’ve gotten wind that I was here. I was on their radar now, and the realization sent a chill down my spine.

Beau stood next to me as his team worked, his presence steady and solid in the middle of my spiraling fear. When the search was over, and the immediate threat cleared, he turned to me, his brow furrowed with concern.

“You can’t stay here,” he said, his voice firm. “We’ll find a new safehouse, but for tonight…” He hesitated, his eyes searching mine. “You’ll stay at my place.”

I didn’t argue. The fear gnawing at my insides left no room for pride. I nodded, my voice barely above a whisper. “Okay.”

--

At his house, the tension still clung to me like a second skin. I sat on the couch while Beau moved into the kitchen. He returned a few moments later with a cup of tea, setting it down in front of me. His eyes stayed on me longer than usual, a mix of worry and something deeper swimming in them.

“You’re scared,” he said softly, leaning against the counter.

I didn’t deny it. “I am.”

He didn’t say anything, just turned, rummaged through a drawer, and came back with a gun in his hand. He held it out to me, his expression serious. “Do you know how to work this?”

I nodded, my voice steady despite the fear. “Since I was five.” His eyebrows shot up, his concern deepening. “Five?” I smiled, but it was bitter. “Girls with normal childhoods don’t grow up to be criminals, Beau.”

He watched me for a long moment, the weight of my words sinking in. His shoulders sagged slightly, and I could see it in his face—he wanted to ask more, to dig deeper into the past I rarely talked about. But he didn’t. Instead, he sat down beside me, the space between us charged with unspoken things.

“You don’t have to be that girl anymore,” he said quietly.

I looked at him, really looked at him. But no matter how much I wanted to believe him, the fear, the darkness of my past, still felt too close, too much a part of me.

“Maybe not,” I said, forcing a smile.

Beau didn’t respond, but the look in his eyes said enough. He wasn’t going to let me run this time. And for the first time in a long time, I wasn’t sure I wanted to.

“Tell me about her.”

I looked up, meeting Beau’s steady gaze. “Really?” I asked, a little surprised he wanted to go down this road.

He nodded, leaning back slightly. “I presume the stories you gave me on our dates were... false?” There was a hint of amusement in his voice, but the tension between us lingered.

I smiled, a little apologetically. “Most of them, yeah.”

“Come on,” he said with a teasing glint in his eyes, trying to lighten the mood. “You’ve got dirt on me too.”

I shook my head, my smile fading. “Yeah, but you’ve got dirt on me to put me in jail.”

His face softened, and he didn’t deny it. Instead, he leaned back in his chair, watching me, waiting. The easygoing sheriff was gone, replaced by a man who wanted to know the truth. I could see the weight of the years between us, the unsaid things that were about to come to the surface.

I took a deep breath, staring at the floor for a moment before looking back up at him. “You really want to know?”

Beau didn’t move, just nodded once. “Yeah. I do.”

I leaned forward, clasping my hands together, trying to figure out where to even start. My life wasn’t a story with a clean beginning or an easy ending. It was messy, full of jagged edges and broken pieces.

“I grew up in a place where trust got you hurt,” I began, my voice low. “My dad… he wasn’t a good man. He ran with the wrong crowd—gamblers, lowlifes. He was a con artist, too. I guess that’s where I got it from. But he wasn’t careful. He owed a lot of people money, people who weren’t too happy when he couldn’t pay.”

Beau stayed quiet, his eyes never leaving mine, but I could tell he was taking it all in. He didn’t interrupt, just let me keep going.

“I was five when I learned how to handle a gun,” I continued. “Because he wasn’t home most nights, and when he was, it wasn’t safe. My mom left when I was a kid, so I didn’t have anyone to teach me what normal was. I learned survival from the people around me—thieves, liars, con artists. By the time I was twelve, I was running scams with my dad. He called it ‘teaching me the family business.’” I laughed bitterly at the memory. “But really, it was just survival.”

Beau’s face hardened, but he didn’t say anything. I could see the way his fists clenched slightly at his sides, like he was imagining that little girl growing up in that world.

“Eventually, I got good at it. Better than my dad. I moved on from his small-time schemes to bigger things. By the time I was twenty, I was on my own, pulling jobs for some very dangerous people. And once you’re in that life, it’s not easy to get out. You know too much, and people don’t forget that. You don’t get to just disappear.”

I looked down at my hands, feeling the weight of all those years press down on me again. “That’s why I left you, Beau. I didn’t want to drag you into the mess I was in. I thought if I just disappeared, maybe I could protect you from all of it.”

I glanced up, searching his face for some sign of what he was thinking. For a long moment, he didn’t say anything. Then, finally, he spoke, his voice quiet but steady.

“I knew you were running from something, but I didn’t realize it was all that.”

I shrugged, trying to play it off, but the truth was, telling him all of this felt like exposing a part of me I’d kept hidden for years. “It’s not exactly first-date material.”

He gave a small, humorless smile. “No, I guess not.”

Silence settled between us again, and I could see the wheels turning in his head. He was piecing things together, seeing me in a way he hadn’t before. And I wasn’t sure if that made me feel better or worse.

“You’re not your dad, Y/N,” Beau said after a moment, his voice firm. “You’ve made mistakes, yeah, but you’re not him. You don’t need to be like him.”

I let out a long breath, my eyes drifting back to the floor. “Sometimes, it feels like I am. Like I’m stuck in this cycle, doing what I know best because it’s the only thing I’ve ever been good at.”

Beau leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees, closing the distance between us. “You’ve been trying to survive your whole life. That’s not the same as being a bad person.”

I looked up at him, his words sinking in, but I wasn’t sure I could believe them. Not yet, anyway. “I don’t know how to be anyone else,” I whispered.

Beau reached over, gently placing his hand on mine. “Then maybe it’s time you learn.” I stared at him, the warmth of his touch grounding me in a way I hadn’t felt in years.

“How?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. “You’re doing it already,” Beau said softly, his eyes steady on mine.

For a moment, the air between us shifted. The tension that had been simmering for weeks boiled over. My eyes drifted to his lips, and before I could think twice, I leaned in, crashing into him with all the pent-up emotions I’d been trying to ignore. His lips were warm, familiar, and for a second, he let me. He kissed me back, and it felt like the world was slipping away.

But just as quickly, he pulled back, his hands on my shoulders, gently but firmly pushing me away. His eyes were conflicted, full of emotions he wasn’t ready to act on. “Bad idea,” he muttered, standing up and running a hand through his hair.

I sat there, my heart racing, feeling the sting of rejection, but also knowing he was right. This was too messy. There was too much between us now.

Beau walked toward his bedroom, not looking back. “Goodnight,” he said, his voice low and strained.

I watched him disappear down the hall, my mind spinning. I wasn’t sure what I expected when I kissed him, but this—this felt like a deeper kind of hurt. One that came with the weight of everything we’d been through, and everything we hadn’t said.

I sat there for a long time after, the house quiet, the warmth of his touch lingering on my skin.

--

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Taglist:

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[chiefdirector]

Photographing | Tim Bradford | The Rookie

Act One | Chapter 16 | Chapter 17 | Chapter 18 | Chapter 19 | Chapter 20

(Y/N) spun on her chair, waiting for the computer to make its move in the latest of a string of chess games. The Sergeant in charge of the detectives, Caradine had been drying her out when it came to cases, leaving her nothing but time. The computer moved its King to B7. 

Rolling her eyes, (Y/N) debated moving her bishop only to be cut off by Grey approaching her desk, a small box neatly tucked under his arms. 

“Are you really playing computer games right now?” He asked incredulously. 

She quickly closed the tab. “No…?”

“Don’t you have a job to do? Or are you still left behind? Because if you are, I can speak to Sergeant Caradine, get him to ease up on you.”

“No. Thank you though,” She shook her head, turning in her chair to fully face Grey, “As much as I appreciate it, I don’t need special treatment. Especially right now. I need to earn Caradine’s trust again…. Not that I had much of it in the first place. But onto another subject, what brings you over? Super cool secret crime to fight?”

Wade laughed, placing the box down in front of (Y/N) “Not quite. This was dropped at the front desk for you. Smitty tried to open it, so I rescued it.”

“I didn’t order anything.”

(Y/N) carefully picked up the box, examining the outside for a return address. The only text was her details for the postage. No stamps, no indication of where it came from. 

“Who dropped it off because clearly it didn’t go through USPS.” She stood up, taking a step back from the desk. 

“Right,” Grey said, reaching for his radio. “I’m calling the bomb squad.”

“Don’t!-“ she cut him off before the order could be given. Instead, she moved for the second drawer in her desk, pulling out a pair of latex gloves. “You held it. It’s far too light to be any form of explosive. It felt almost empty.”

Grabbing the Swiss Army Knife from the pocket of her jacket, she flicked the blade open, slicing through the top layers of tape, leaving the flaps of the cardboard loose. Gently, she opened both at the same time and peered inside. 

The box was empty save for a single photograph. It was a polaroid image of (Y/N) and Tim leaving their home for work yesterday morning. He held her hand, shielding her from the outside. She was almost invisible save from her hair flowing out from behind her. 

Flipping it over, (Y/N) silently read the message inscribed in red ink. All my love, R.D. 

“‘R.D.’ Regina Diaz. She’s trying to mess with me.” (Y/N) passed the photo over to Grey, “she also sent me the other photos using polaroid.”

“This was yesterday. Look, you’re wearing the same thing. Did you see anything when you left?” He asked, pacing the photo back into the box. 

“No, Tim might have. I’ll call him now.”

Grey raised his hand, moving to take his radio out. “Don’t. You’ll only panic him.” He lifted the radio to speak into it. “Officer Bradford, it’s Sargent Grey, I need you to report back to the station A.S.A.P.”

The radio buzzed with static as Tim replied. “We’re about fifteen minutes out. What’s up?”

“Just need an opinion on something. Meet us in my office. Have Chen go to help on the front desk.”

As Grey spoke to Tim, (Y/N) gestured to her empty cup, signalling that she was going to get a coffee. She rolled her eyes once again as Grey nodded at her, knowing that he wanted one too. 

----------

(Y/N) sipped on her coffee from her pink mug, closing her eyes to relish the taste. There was little she enjoyed more than coffee. 

“You look like you’re about to propose to the cup there.” Grey said, looking at (Y/N) over his own mug. 

“What happens between me and the contents of the mug is none of your business,” she smirked, resting the mug on Grey’s desk in front of her. “Besides, you look just as invested.”

Greg looked like he wanted to respond when he looked up at the sound of knocking on his office door and someone entering. “Bradford, come in. Take a seat.”

Tim complied, sitting down next to (Y/N), sending her an inquisitive look. He reached forward for her mug only to have his hand slapped away. 

“What’s going on? Is everything okay?” Tim asked, looking back and forth between his wife and the watch commander. 

“Did you see anything strange yesterday morning when you left the house?” Grey asked, picking up the Polaroid picture, passing it over to Tim to look at. “This was delivered to the front desk this morning. Smitty tried to open it.”

Tim rolled his eyes, “Of course he did. But I didn’t see anything. Any idea who sent it?”

“I’m having Lopez look at security footage now. But the back says it’s from an ‘R.D��.”

“Regina Diaz.” 

“That’s what I thought,” (Y/N) said, reaching for her coffee again, “but I had a look at the other Polaroids. It only matches the handwriting of one of the pictures. The other is completely different.”

Tim placed his hand on (Y/N)’s thigh, squeezing it softly in reassurance. “So you think that this could be the other person, posing as Diaz?” 

“It’s a possibility. But until we figure it out, I want you two to be careful. Who knows what’s waiting out there for you. But at least we know that there is a threat now, we have something to look out for.”

“So what now?” Tim asked.

“I’m going to make a few calls, update the case file with this development. See if I can figure anything out.” (Y/N) said, finished off her coffee, placing the empty cup back down on the desk. “Then go see where this photo was taken, see if any cameras could’ve picked up who took it.”

“I can do that. I’ll take Chen when she’s done with the footage.”

“Take her now,” Grey said, standing up to guide the two Bradfords out of his office. “I’ll have Lopez check the cameras. We can all report back here when we have something.”

(Y/N) nodded, moving out of the door, Tim hot on her heels. She weaved in and out of the officers to go back to her desk. Sitting down, she gestured for her husband to perch on top of the surface. 

“I don’t think this is anything.” She broke the silence, watching Tim’s expression change to confusion at her words. 

“How so? This is clearly a warning, if not a threat.”

(Y/N) hummed, leaning across to take one of Tim’s hands in hers, using the  moment to find the right words. “No. I think it was meant to throw us off our tracks. Have us chasing our tails. Psych us out, you know.”

“I know,” he said, getting down from the desk, before leaning over to give (Y/N) a quick kiss. “Just be careful anyway. I can’t let anything happen to you.”

“Okay. I promise, but only if you do.”

“You know me, Mogs, always careful.”

(Y/N) looked down before nodding, watching as her husband left to find his Rookie. Tim hadn’t called her ‘Mogs’ in years, he only did when he was worried, not that he would admit it. 

Chapter 20 | Chapter 22

Series Masterlist | Masterlist

Tags: @xceafh @kmc1989 @buba424 @salty0cracker @iamasimpingh0e @malindacath @agentred27 @hufflepuffwhore13 @tessalynni @anaferreira-4

Tags are open :)

[mischiefandmedicine]

Very Full - Chapter 18: The Story

Summary: Saoirse makes a shocking discovery at the end of Loki's story.

Word Count: 1,456 words.

Chapter Warnings: Pain, angst, sadness, fire, a fight.

Soundtrack Link

This Chapter's Music Inspiration:

God is a Woman by Ariana Grande

Very Full MASTERLIST

Previous Chapter

A/N: Here's the end of Part One of this story. Unfortunately, I have to spend the next couple months working on the first couple chapters of my doctorate project. Once that's done, I'll be working on the next installment of Loki and Melara's story.

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Let me know if you would like to be added to the taglist for the next part!

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In the quietude that followed the fiery climax, a hush fell between Loki and Saoirse as they sat across from each other at the end of time. Saoirse, with her heart pounding against the cage of her ribs, stood defiant before Loki, the god of chaos, and her father. Her voice, once soft and childlike, now bore the edge of a warrior forged in the fires of her mother’s legacy.

“Wait, are you saying that mom…?” Saoirse’s voice cracked, the question hanging in the air like a sword of Damocles.

Loki, the silhouette against the annals of time, remained silent, his gaze fixed upon the daughter who was both his greatest joy and his deepest regret.

“She would not have just left me like that! There is no way that she would survive outside of time like that! Besides, she’s not like you at all!” The accusation flew from Saoirse’s lips, a burning arrow aimed straight at the heart of the god before her.

Loki, once unshakable, now seemed to waver, the lines of his face softening with a sorrow that spanned eons. “There are a lot of things your mother is capable of that no one knew about, not even her. How else would you, a powerful princess of New Asgard, be born to your ‘merely human’ mother?”

The air between them was electric, charged with the tension of unspoken truths and unresolved histories. Saoirse’s hands trembled, not with fear, but with the weight of the power that surged within her, a power inherited from the very woman whose absence now carved a void in her universe.

“Loki…please, say something. How could you just end it there?” Her plea was a whisper against the storm that raged within her soul.

His eyes, like pools of infinity, met hers, gleaming with mischief as he smirked arrogantly at his daughter. “It’s my story, I can end it how I want to.”

The air thickened, the moment stretching into eternity. And then, Saoirse moved, her actions a blur of rage and grief. Blades materialized from the ether in a flash, their edges glinting with the promise of retribution. With a swift motion borne of pain and betrayal, she placed them against her father’s throat.

“After all this, that’s how you’re going to leave it?!” Her voice was a thunderclap, shattering the fragile silence.

The two stood locked in a tableau of conflict, the daughter challenging the father, the past confronting the present. Loki, the master of stories, found himself at the mercy of the narrative he had spun, his daughter the unexpected author of its latest twist.

Grabbing Saoirse by the wrist, he spun her around, locking her in a grip as fierce as the anger that burned within her. “Daughter, what have I told you of patience?”

Kicking Loki’s feet out from under him, they began to fight, a dance as old as time, a struggle of wills and magic. Saoirse, fueled by the love for her mother and the fury of abandonment, fought with a ferocity that matched the tempest in her heart. Loki, seasoned by centuries of battles, parried and dodged, his own powers a counterpoint to his daughter’s wrath.          

The clash of steel and spell echoed through the expanses, a symphony of chaos and order entwined. But it was Saoirse who prevailed, her strength a testament to the union of her parents, her resolve unyielding as she grabbed her father one last time, flipping him onto his back. She stood over Loki, panting, the blades in her hands a declaration of her indomitable spirit.

Just as Loki was about to open his mouth to express his pride over his daughter’s strength, a voice rang out in the darkness. “What is going on down there?”

In the realm where time holds no dominion, where eternity stretches out in an infinite expanse, the reunion unfolded like the final act of a grand, cosmic play. This time authored by Melara and not the god of stories himself. There, amidst the swirling nebulas and the echoes of creation, stood Saoirse, her breath catching in her chest as a voice she thought lost to her forever cascaded down the marble stairs.

“Mom?!” Saoirse’s voice was a mix of disbelief and yearning, the single word carrying the weight of years, the aches of separation.

Melara descended the stairs carefully, her presence a gentle gravity that pulled at the very soul of her daughter. “Hey, kiddo,” she said, her voice a balm to the festering wounds of time.

Saoirse ran, her feet barely touching the celestial ground, and flung herself into her mother’s arms. “Mommy,” she sobbed, the dam of her composure breaking as the rivers of tears flowed freely.

“I’m so sorry, my Runa,” Melara whispered, her own tears mingling with those of her daughter, a sacred confluence of love and regret.

 “What are you doing here? You…I missed you…I-“ Saoirse’s words tumbled out in a torrent, each one a piece of her shattered heart seeking wholeness.

“Your father didn’t tell you?” Melara’s gaze shifted to Loki, a playful reproach in her eyes.

Saoirse’s confusion was palpable, a question mark written across the cosmos. Melara’s hand met the back of Loki’s head with an affectionate smack. “How could you toy with her like that?”

Loki, unabashed and irreverent as ever, smirked with the confidence of a god who danced along the knife-edge of chaos. “Oh, come on. Do you even know who I am?”

Melara’s expression softened, but her hand was unyielding against his arm as she smacked him again. “Loki, she thought she lost her mom, and that you abandoned her. Why would you…?” Another smack punctuated her sentiment.

Saoirse’s laughter rang out, clear and bright against the void, her tears now a memory. “How could you both let me grow up without this?”

“Runa, there was so much I had to learn, and there was no…time just wasn’t on our side,” Melara explained, her eyes holding years of wisdom and secrets yet untold. “I can tell you about it all.”

Saoirse shook her head, a small smile playing on her lips. “I think I’ve had enough of stories for one day.”

Melara’s laughter was a melody that danced among the stars. “Well, you are always welcome to come back and visit me, and I can tell you my side of things, sweetie.”

 As Saoirse embraced her mother once more, Melara turned her gaze to Loki, a playful yet pointed stare. “And do me a favor, hang out a while and get to know your dad a little,” Melara narrowed her eyes in Loki’s direction. “And stop playing with your daughter and get to know her better,” she admonished, her hand finding his arm for another affectionate smack.

“She scolds you too?” Saoirse asked, amusement coloring her tone.

Loki’s face warmed with a blush that belied his immortal façade. “Since day one,” he shrugged, huffing out a laugh. “It’s probably what I love about her so much. She reminds me of Frigga, your grandmother,” he said, guiding Melara to sit on the throne-like chair he had conjured to speak with Saoirse.

“I’d say you have mommy issues, but that’d be the pot calling the kettle black,” Saoirse teased, nudging Loki with her elbow.

“That’s an odd expression,” Loki retorted, returning the playful jab at Saoirse.

Giggles filled the space, the sound more precious than the chorus of a newborn galaxy.

“Will you two just stop and enjoy each other’s company?” she called over her shoulder. “I swear you’re more like siblings. What the hell was I thinking?” Melara exclaimed, her exasperation lined with affection.

Loki looked to Saoirse, his arm encircling her shoulders. “She’s great, isn’t she?” he said, a hint of pride in his voice.

“Yea, I know,” Saoirse replied, leaning into the embrace that spoke of new beginnings and old bonds rekindled.

There, at the end of time, a family found their denouement, not in the pages of a story, but in the language of their hearts. They settled into the chairs that seemed to cradle the very essence of their saga, a tableau of love that transcended the bounds of time and the pages of any epic.

Loki had found himself a companion. Melara had found peace. Saoirse had found both her parents, alight with the love for each other and the daughter for whom they had sacrificed so much.

As the laughter died down, they sat together, a family reunited, the heartbeat of their love echoing through eternity, a lullaby for the universe. This was their story, their song, a tale written in the stars that began a long time ago, on the sacred timeline in a realm that sparkled with the resplendence of gold.

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Taglist: @mischief2sarawr

[lonelypond]

Warning Shot

NicoMaki, Love Live, 1.8K, 1/?

Summary: An injured Yazawa Nico finds herself on the run from the notorious A-Rise gang. Headed toward Otonokizaki Falls, she first meets two children who will change her life.

The bullet pinged off the boulder to Yazawa Nico’s left. A chunk of granite flicked her cheek, liquid warmth telling her blood had been drawn. She spun, reaching for her Colt, but froze as she watched Tsubasa Kira hand her rifle to Todo Erena.

“You left the Wells Fargo driver alive.” Tsubasa spit, her right hand hovering over the grip of her pistol. “You’re that damn undercover marshall.”

“Nico is the Number One Bandit.” Nico couldn’t help the proud swagger as she posed.

A movement to Nico’s right showed her that Tsubasa’s other lieutenant, Yuki Anju, settling into a sniper’s position.

“That was your warning shot. The next one…”

Kosoka Honoka stepped in front of Tsubasa, arms up, “I was there too. We got the money; no reason to kill the stagecoach driver.”

“I ordered it.” Tsubasa stepped forward, “Out of my way. You’re cute, Kosaka, and new so I’ll forgive you for not knowing we take traitors seriously here.”

Honoka’s distraction had given Nico a minute to calculate an escape, the minute she needed. But a minute was all she needed. Yazawa forced Anju back into cover with a quick shot that kicked up dirt in her face. 

Nico rolled over the rock, tossing a smoke bomb behind her, a high pitched whistle summoning her horse. She sprinted toward where Smiley would be approaching, determined to leave shouts behind her. Another shot, and a bulllet rushed by, too close for any ease. Grimacing, Nico continued in the direction where her horse should be running her way. She needed a bridle and a blanket saddle. Nico paused, small against a night full of danger. She’d need her rifle too. Tsubasa shouted confusing directions. Nico headed for where she had her saddle.

A quick close sound, a pinch in her side, an explosion of pain. Not a warning shot. Erena’s narrowed eyes looked surprised that Nico still stood. And then Erena was tilting, the tiny ginger speedster, Hoshizora Rin having clocked her with the butt of her Winchester. Nico’s horse, prepped with saddle and head bridle, neighed a greeting.

“Mount up and go, Nico-chan. I’ll send ‘em in the wrong direction.”

Nico nodded, hand pressed against the wound in her side. She’d do a more proper bandage once she got on horseback but for now a bandana and hard pressure was all she could manage. Mounting was one smooth motion. With a nod to Hoshizora, Nico headed Smiley toward the North. She’d heard rumors of a quiet town, immigrant built, near a cluster of waterfalls.

###

Sheriff Sonoda Umi sighed, tacking another wanted poster to the wall outside her office. These criminals were getting younger and younger. The latest, Nico Yazawa, looked like a teenager. How could someone with a face like that have committed crimes worthy of such a bounty. Umi squinted at the signature. Some bank manager who’d hired a rider to deliver the posters to all the towns in a 200 mile or so radius. Umi couldn’t imagine a criminal making their way here to the quiet of Otonokizaka Falls. There wasn’t even a full time banker. Three saloons, one general store, a seamstress, a blacksmith, a doctor, a barber, a laundry, livery stable, dry goods, carpenter, community hall, school house. Another town was closer to the mines so most of the shameless activities and businesses miner’s money attracted had grown up there, leaving the Falls a quiet, friendly town surrounded by ranchers and natural beauties, most of the visitors riding in either to see Doctor Nishikino or stay at the hotel and have their pictures taken at the Falls.

###

Daylight was louder, Nico Yazawa realized as she scrunched deeper into the bare warmth of her lined duster. The sun always seemed to give off its own music, a cloud driven rhythm that drove the harmony of creatures living their lives in full daylight. Nico was a nocturnal creature, here, under the silence of the slicing moon, a lone owl hooting, his baritone note a call for companionship. Nico’s horse shifted suddenly, Nico biting back a curse as the movement jostled her. The gunshot in her side needed attention. She didn’t need the pain stabbing her a reminder of that.

In the silence, she could almost hear hooves in pursuit. Surely her picture had been circulated by now, her betrayal complete, cut off by the A Rise gang as an easy target to cover their escape with two train cars worth of gold bullion. 

Nico sighed. She needed food, rest, a place to water Smiley, a place to hide. She’d ridden out this far, searching for Otonokizaki Falls. Nico smiled at the thought of water rumbling, rushing, as a soothing wind rustled rough against cool green leaves. Must be a fever, Nico realized, water wouldn’t seem nearly so soothing otherwise. Tugging the reins gently, Nico guided Smiley to the easiest path down this mountain. Maybe by dawn they could be tucked into an unused outbuilding on some ranch.

###

“Slow down, Ruby!” 7 year old Dia Kurosawa worried about the speed at which 5 year old Ruby Kurosawa was racing toward a large black horse. What if her sister fell again? Their new mama, Doctor Maki, wasn’t due back for a day or two. Koizumi Hanayo was sweet and cooked much better than Mama, but if Ruby got hurt, Dia wanted Mama right there. At least until Mama let Dia have her own surgical bag.

Ruby stood in front of the large black horse now, bouncing on her toes, gingham dress flitting in the breeze, hand open, a contraband sugar cube on her palm. She must have pocketed it at breakfast. Dia dressed like her new mama most days, button down linen shirt and corduroys tucked into boots, a matching vest her only vanity. Mama wore wrinkled jackets and kept an open collar. Dia thought it looked messy. But Mama was always in motion, rolling up her sleeves, measuring out medicines, examining patients.

“Sis!!! He’s new. And so pretty.” Ruby was petting the horse’s neck, its head lowered.

“Be careful.” Dia walked quickly to her sister’s side. “He’s not from the herd.” Hanayo had a small herd of horses as well as sheep wandering her ranch, along with Juniper, her sheep dog.

“No. But he’s so nice.”

The horse took Dia’s sleeve, pulling her a little.

“I think he wants you to go with him, Sis.”

Dia was a little scared. It was a very big horse. But Ruby kept looking at the both of them with a total faith that Dia could not disappoint. She gently patted the horse’s neck as she leaned near an ear, “You better not bite me. My mama wouldn’t like that.”

The horse nickered, then snorted, continuing to pull.

“All right.” Dia nodded, her tone decisive.

“Are we going to ride?”

“No, Ruby. We don’t ride strange horses. Mama warned us.” Dia tapped the strange horse’s neck in an encouraging fashion and it took off at a trot.

“He’s taking us to the south barn.” Ruby said.

“There’s nothing there.”

“There’s some hay. Maybe he wants to eat.” 

“Bzzzttt. He can’t steal hay.”

“What if he’s really hungry?”

“We’ll have to ask Hanayo.”

“Do you think he’s lost?”

Dia shrugged, hurrying to keep up with this visitor, Ruby’s hand clutched tightly in her own.

###

Voices. Children? Cotaro? Where was Nico? Nico opened her eyes to sunlight bright enough to make her groan. She remembered. She’d crawled into a small barn when the pain had become too much for riding. She was supposed to be gone by dawn so no one would discover she’d hidden out here. No sense bringing threats to some innocent rancher. 

Nico sat up, her side throbbing, her head aching. She needed water. Where was Smiley? She’d left him with a loose tie; he must have worked himself free. She could see where he’d helped himself to hay. She’d have to leave some money.

“Smiley?” Nico winced at how raspy her voice sounded, as she pulled herself up to stand in the stall she’d fallen asleep in, under her saddle blanket, the Sharps rifle by her side. She picked it up to check. Unloaded. Nico wasn’t going to take chances around children.

“BZZZTTT!” A hissing sound, “Drop that. Now.”

A very young, very determined voice shouted at Nico, who slowly placed her rifle to the side, then raised her hands in the air. Two children stood in front of her, a tiny one with red hair hiding behind a dark haired one dressed like a junior banker.

“Nico is a friend.”

“Is that your horse?” The redhead asked.

“Yes. He’s very friendly. Just like Nico.”

“He’s pretty. I fed him sugar.”

“He likes sugar.” The junior banker interrupted, “Why are you here?”

“Nico needed a place to sleep. And Smiley needed breakfast. We’ll be going now.” Nico could feel her energy fading. Where was Smiley? She could use his solidity right now. “You look pale. When Mama sees people like you they have to stay in bed.”

Nico didn’t have time to make sense of that statement. Or the time for it to be true. “Nico can’t stay in anyone’s bed. No matter how nice your mama is.” “Mama’s a doctor.” The banker said, each word carrying serious weight.

“Oh.” Nico cringed at any implication that might have been…but surely that child couldn’t be more than six or seven. “What’s your name?”

“Dia Kurosawa. This is my sister, Ruby.” “Hi!” Ruby squeaked cutely as she got nudged from behind by a Smiley who’d decided to join them.

“Nice to meet you, Dia, Ruby. Nico has to go.” Nico, using the top edge of the stall as an aid, pulled herself toward her wandering horse, “C’mere, boy.” It felt like only two more steps and then she would collapse.

“Sit.” Dia pushed her, knocking Nico’s side.

“Ksssshhhh” Nico hissed through gritted teeth, hitting the ground, letting the stall wall hold her up. She’d have to get help. The wound needed tending to. Maybe this doctor could actually do something. Nico heard rumors about women doctors coming West after graduating with actual medical degrees, unlike some of the frauds who’d mistreated people she knew.

“Go get your Mama.” 

“She’s not here.”

“Is there someone else?” “Hanayo. She lets us stay here when Mama’s busy. Do you want to stay?”

“Thank you, Ruby. Nico does.”

“Ooh!” Ruby started to run off.

“Wait for me!” Dia shouted after her sister, then turned back to Nico, “You wait.”

“Nico’s not going anywhere, kid.”

Serious green eyes considered Nico’s statement, examining her expressions, then Dia nodded. “We’ll be back.”

Leaning her head back, biting her lip to swallow a pained shout, Nico groaned, “Nico’ll be right here, kid.”

A/N: Does Time surge or swirl? Doing some Yeehawgust prompts to jumpstart writing and because I've always loved Western themes. Cheers.

[sesshy380]

Tagged by the amazing @alectoperdita Thank you for including me!

Rules: post the first lines of your last 10 fics posted to ao3. if you have less than 10 fics posted, post the first lines of all your fics.

What a coincidence. I currently only have 10 fics on AO3 lol. Number one is my long fic. Two through five are one-shots. Six through ten are all part of my crackfic series.

It had been a month since the conclusion of Battle City, and school was now resuming for the students of Domino High. The schoolyard was full of students broken off into their respective friend groups, talking excitedly about events that had taken place during the break. One group in particular had a new addition.  (Yu-Gi-Oh: Tangled Web of Fate)

Seto stared at the blond lying bandaged in the hospital bed. Joey had been unconscious since the accident, which had been four days ago. (Don't you...have a company to run?)

Slot machines spun and coins fell into metal trays throughout the casino. Someone cheered in one corner, a person fell to the floor in tears as they lost their last few dollars in another. Bakura couldn’t have cared less who was winning and who was losing. His ash-violet gaze was focused on the woman at the roulette table who was gambling away his employer’s fortune out of spite. (Task Failed Successfully)

4.

The sterile corridor filled with manic screams.

“No!!! I won’t go back! I won’t! I WON’T!”

Kat opened her sapphire eyes wide. It was him. The boy with the ghostly complexion. (Crazy for You)

5.

~Northeastern provinces of Hungary, early 1600’s~

A figure wrapped tightly in a crimson cloak with a wide-brimmed hat of the same color urged its steed forward in the rain, both shaking from the cold. Ash-violet orbs scanned the buildings as they came into view, searching for the telltale sign of an inn. Bakura knew that on a night like this, any inn he came across would probably have no vacancy. He didn’t care, he just wanted out of the rain. He would pay well just to be able to sit at a table all night with his fill of hot food and ale. (White Lady)

6.

[Yami Bakura sitting in random white space, giddily scribbling on a piece of paper with a red crayon]

Dear Author,

I have marked several points in your plot where I can kill the Pharaoh things can be improved.

Sincerely, Murder Fluff

P.S. What’s up with that bullshit nickname? I get the ‘Murder’ part, but ‘Fluff’??? Unless you are referring to the mass of white on my head, there is nothing ‘Fluff’ about me.

P.P.S. I need more red crayons. One in a pack is not enough. Like, can’t you buy a whole pack of JUST red crayons on Amazon or something? Seriously, more RED. (Talking with Myself)

7.

[Yami Bakura casually approaches Author’s desk, his latest ‘edits’ in hand]

Y.Bakura: Uh…Author? Are you okay?

[Author’s head is laying sideways on the keyboard, her eyes appear as empty sockets, and there is drool coming from the corner of her mouth]

Author: * unintelligible zombie moan * (Talking with Myself...Again)

8.

[Yami Bakura comes storming up to Author’s desk with the draft of one of her future longfic chapters, seething with rage]

Y.Bakura: What the fuck is this bullshit?!?! I thought I made myself perfectly clear that I didn’t want any of this Hateshipping crap!

[Author smirks and keeps tapping away at the keyboard]

[Yami Bakura peeks at what’s on screen, his face becoming frozen in a silent horrified scream] (Talking with Myself...and WINNING!)

9.

[Yami Bakura sitting in random space, giddily coloring with his red crayon while humming the tune of ‘Jingle Bells’]

Author: Whatcha doin?

[Yami Bakura continues his scribbling without looking up]

Y.Bakura: Letting the fat man know what I want for this ‘Kiss Miss’ thing. I’m all for hot chicks, but I prefer a new knife…and maybe some more red crayons. Seriously, just order a warehouse full next time. I go through a lot. (Talking with Myself...'Kiss Miss' Edition)

10.

[Yami Bakura is doing what he does best: Creating vivid scenes on paper in various shades of red]

[Yami Bakura suddenly senses something disturbing: Silence]

[Yami Bakura slowly makes his way over to Author's desk. Strangely, there is no Author] (Talking with Myself...Attack of the Kudosbot)

I think most of everyone I know has been tagged. If I tagged you again you can obviously disregard. Also, no pressure if you are tagged and don't feel like participating. @resuri-art | @x-atlas-x

Quick edit because I keep forgetting that when I copy/paste it doesn't carry over the strikethrough on #6

[whump-a-la-mode]

Hi! First of all, your writing is ASTOUNDING. I adore how you characterize. Secondly, I have a prompt idea:

A Villain who is falling in love with a Hero, but won’t admit it to themself. They stop being able to effectively fight Hero because they don’t want to hurt them. But Supervillain notices, so they capture Hero and use them to lure Villain in.

-Wicky

🥺🥺🥺 Thank you so very much! You just made my day. I thank you for the compliment and the prompt! I sure hope I did it justice, and I hope you enjoy!

CW//Injuries, threats, implied torture

Villain’s world spun as their skull cracked against the rough concrete of the roof. Opening their eyes, their field of vision was filled with only an array of stars.

Everything hurt.

They were convinced, in that moment, that there was not an inch of their flesh that was left unbruised, not a rib left unfractured. Breathing on its own was an ordeal, an ordeal that they endured only out of pure necessity.

Pain rippled through the stocks of jelly they had once called limbs as the villain scrambled first to hands and knees, and finally to their feet, even as unsteady as they were. They could do nothing but gasp as they faced down their opponent.

There was something in Hero’s eyes. Something that even their nemesis, their sworn, life-long foe could not quite name. It was not quite sympathy, no, but it was not quite pity, either. Something inbetween, perhaps, with only the slightest garnishing of regret.

“Come on, Villain.” It was with a pleading tone that the hero spoke, as though attempting to coax a frightened cat down from the top branches of a Redwood tree. “Just stand down! You can’t win this. We have you surrounded. No harm will come to you- No more harm.”

Yet, the villain only shook their head.

For any outsider, the matchup would have looked more like a massacre, waiting to happen. Villain themself was perhaps not the picture of musculature, but what villain was? No, they may not have been the strongest. But everyone knew what power they held in their palms, the lightning they could unleash at will. Enough to topple the building upon which they stood. Enough to topple the whole city, perhaps. The city had yet to so much as see their full potential.

But it was their potential that the villain now refused to use.

Hero, on the other hand, was... well, they weren’t much. As strong as they were, as clever, as smart, superstrength could only do one so much good. Villain could have destroyed them in passing, with the snap of a finger!

Why wasn’t the hero in the nearest emergency room? Even Villain themself wasn’t entirely sure.

“I’m not giving up, asshole!” They snarled, balling their hands to fists. It would be so easy. So very simple to send a torrent of lightning forth, to shock Hero within an inch of their life. Hell, Villain used their powers to make popcorn on the weekends!

But, they couldn’t. They couldn’t imagine Hero, the poor thing, the pitiful little fool, fallen to the ground. The very thought of using their powers against their opponent made them feel sick.

“I don’t want to hurt you.” Hero spoke, eyes wide and glimmering with that same mix of sympathy and regret.

“Too bad.”

And, with that, the rooftop once more became a battleground. Villain surged forward, met in the center by their nemesis. A blow to the side of their head sent them stumbling.

They couldn’t go on like this, they knew as their vision clouded once more with stars. Another hit and they would be unconscious, in the custody of the so-called good guys. They couldn’t do that.

They had two choices.

Three. Three choices.

The first? To take the hit. To bite the bullet, to find themself behind bars.

The second? To hurt Hero. To wipe that oh-so-innocent quiver from their lips. To destroy-

No. They had two options. That wasn’t even on the table. Villain could be beaten, or they could flee.

It was with a shivering gasp that they chose the second.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ 

Sidekick placed down their fork with a resounding clack. In the silent room, the sound resembled the ring of a gong.

“Are you absolutely certain you’re alright?” They asked with a quirked brow. With the day turning to evening, they had left their sidekick’s uniform behind, replaced now with a casual set of garments. After all, the restaurant at which they were eating was far from fancy. That wasn’t the type of villain that their mentor was.

“Of course I’m alright. Do I look like some kind of ailing senior citizen?” Villain muttered under their breath as they looked over in displeasure at their sidekick. For someone so young, they certainly had a mouth.

“Not now. But on the battlefield last night-”

“I’m fine. I’m up and walking, aren’t I?”

“It’s not about that.” Sidekick shook their head. “It was in the battle. You could’ve taken out Hero easy-”

“Keep your voice down, we’re in public.”

“Sorry.” They lowered their tone. “But, I’ve seen you take Hero out dozens of times. Recently, though, you’ve been all over the place. You can’t even land a single hit! I’m worried. You’ve lost your edge. Up on that rooftop, it was like you were somewhere else entirely.”

Villain had been somewhere else entirely, not that they would ever dare to admit it. They had been lost, hopelessly lost- Lost in the eyes of their damn nemesis.

“I just wasn’t on the ball. Everyone has off days.” They grumbled, turning their embarrassed gaze away.

“Everyone has off days. But you’ve been having an off month! Don’t think I haven’t noticed that it’s just them. Just Hero.”

“They’re getting better.”

“So are you.”

“Really, I’m fine.”

Sidekick reached across the table, placing their palm upon the back of their mentor’s hand, which had unconsciously been balled into a fist.

“You nearly got captured, last night. I don’t know what I’d do without you, Villain. If you’re sick, if something’s wrong, anything at all, you need to tell me.”

Villain suddenly spotted something very interesting on their shoes, and kept their gaze fixed there.

“It’s stupid.”

“Are you sick? Everyone gets sick sometimes, it’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

“Not sick.”

“Then what?”

Villain gritted their teeth.

“Lovesick.”

Sidekick withdrew their hand in shock.

“What?”

“Look, it’s stupid! I don’t know. I shouldn’t be feeling that way about a hero, but- They’re a good person, I swear it. They want to help, and they’re kind, and I just can’t bear the thought of hurting them. What if I changed them? What if I hurt them, and that was what made them lose hope, lose faith? Then that’d be on my shoulders!”

“You’re saying...” Sidekick’s jaw was still ajar in shock. “You’re saying that you can’t fight Hero, because you’re in love with them?”

Villain looked up with a sigh.

“To put it shortly, I suppose.”

The both of them were shocked as a figure appeared next to their table. A sharply-dressed figure with a notepad.

“Are you two ready to order?”

“Yes, my apologies.” Villain cleared their throat. They and their sidekick presented their orders, which the waiter scrawled down with a series of understanding nods.

It was not until that particular waiter disappeared from the dining room that they slipped out of their disguise, and dialed a number into their phone.

“Hey, Boss? You might wanna hear about this.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

To say Villain was in a bad mood would have been an understatement.

The injuries covering every last inch of their body, too, ached with every step they took. Bruises and beatings rippled, forcing them nearly to limp. Yet, they forced their gait to remain normal, even if it meant pain.

They couldn’t call attention to themself. Not when they were in civilian clothes like this, and not when they were on the streets. Still, they kept their head low and their sweatshirt hoodie up as they went along. No need to stick out in the crowd.

This was the only solace they ever got, after all. When some got frustrated, they would go for a drive in the night. But their vehicle was distinctive enough that that wasn’t an option for the villain.

Instead? They walked, moving along with the crowd as though they were a single fish in a school. Usually, this helped them calm down. Now, however, every step they took only made their thoughts spin more wildly.

First, it was Hero. Hero and their stupid eyes. Then it was Sidekick. It wasn’t that Sidekick had confronted them that made them so worried, it was that they’d noticed at all.

That meant that other people out there might spot their weakness. Might use it as an advantage. Who would it be, though? Hero themself? Or, even-

A gasp rippled through the crowd around them in a wave. Voices shouted and fingers pointed, all in the same direction. Villain wiggled their way out of the crowd in order to see what had caused such fuss.

A billboard. An electronic billboard.

An electronic billboard that no longer housed an advertisement for the latest cellphone or insurance scam. No. Upon the massive thing, multiple stories in height, surely, was broadcasted a video.

“Good evening, and I do apologize for interrupting. But I just had to get my friend’s attention.”

Villain’s breath caught in their throat. They would know that voice even if they had to pick it out of a crowd of thousands.

Most would have expected that two people so similar as Villain and Supervillain would get along, but the reality was just the opposite. Villain couldn’t call themself a good guy, no, but they had ethics. Morals. Real aims to work towards, rather than burning the city down and laughing among the flames.

Supervillain, on the other hand? There was a reason that they were so feared. Their goals were far grander than Villain’s.

To say that they had never been very good friends would be an understatement.

And, now? Now they were enemies. The video projected upon that billboard made that fact certain.

Supervillain themself was not visible in frame-- Perhaps that was lucky for Villain. Seeing that stupid face would have certainly goaded them into destroying the projection outright. Instead, the video displayed a room.

A concrete room, with a chair in the center. A chair that was far from empty.

It was always Hero’s eyes that they could not help but get lost in. Now, that wasn’t a factor. Not when the hero was so tightly blindfolded. Their soothing, calming voice, too, had been eliminated-- the cloth gag in their mouth was already soaked-through with spittle.

Tied to the chair, bound, gagged, and blinded, sat Hero.

“Now, I don’t want a ransom. No, no. I only want to see a dear friend of mine. And it has been oh, so hard to track them down.

So, Villain, dear?”

They shivered at the sound of their name. Their name.

“How about you come to my base, and pick up your little friend, here. Or else, I might just have to do something drastic.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ 

For six hours, Villain did not move.

As soon as the broadcast had left the billboard, it had repeated itself upon every news channel that gave half a crap about the metropolis. National news, even international, with subtitles in two dozen languages telling of Supervillain’s threat.

They’d found out. Of course they’d found out.

Villain knew they  should have been furious. They should have strangled Supervillain, strangled Hero, strangled themself! After all, this was all their fault. Falling for a hero, how could they have possibly been so stupid?

Now, they stared. Hands balled to fists in their lap as yet another newscaster explained the same events, over and over again.

“Boss?” Sidekick’s voice was soft, nothing like their usual, nosy self. They sat in a chair behind their mentor, who was seated criss-cross on the floor.

There was no answer.

“Boss... What are you going to do?”

“I can’t leave them.”

“Leave who?”

“Leave Hero. You know what Supervillain is like! They’ll destroy them. Destroy the last good hero in the city.”

“You didn’t want to hurt them.”

“And I don’t want to see them hurt, either.”

“I know you don’t. But it’s all Supervillain has over you. You can just... Leave them, right? It’s not like Hero has any real power over you.”

“No.”

“No?”

“I have to.”

“You don’t!”

Villain stood.

“Yes, I do.” They spun around, stalking towards the room that held their costume. “And I need to wipe that damn smile off Supervillain’s face.”

[wandsandwheezes]

Fake It | Weasley Twins | CH2

one //

Warnings | Mature themes, fake relationships, secret relationships, love, sex, drama, angst, fluff, other chapters include smut 18+

Summary // Fred Weasley has been set up to publicly date Y/N, London's best Quidditch Seeker in order to drum up some publicity. Y/N however has a different ginger man on her mind; George Weasley.

creds to @vogueweasley​ for the moodboard<3

The warmth on your skin as George's arm lazily draped over your side, truly was a feeling you could get used to. Shamelessly it was your fourth night in a row you'd spent in his bed, a part of you longed for you to wake up in his arms every morning. George was not a heavy sleeper, easily disrupted by anyone and anything, perhaps the only way he'd ever sleep through the night was when he'd passed out drunk. Having seen just how affectionate he gets after a few too many shots, you were glad you hadn't been at the fire whisky fuelled celebrations. 

Sneaking around with George was much easier at Hogwarts, no cameras, no fame, no interruptions; just kisses and evenings together. Part of the reason you and George had such a good time together in Muggle London was that more often than not, you were just a normal couple, free to kiss and hold each other in front of everyone. He pulled you from bed early that morning to take you on a surprise trip before your training that evening. 

He'd gotten you to wrap up warm and comfy in an attempt to block out the freezing British winter winds. The ten minute walk from your home to the Embankment was full of conversations about all of the gorgeous Christmas displays, you even begged him to let you put up the Christmas tree early in the house, giving in when you looked at him with your puppy dog eyes, "I'm so whipped, aren't I?" he laughed, fingers interlocking with yours as you walked. His eyes trailed across the river before an Idea popped into his head, he nodded towards the London Eye, sat proudly across the river in all of its glory. "What do you say, Princess? Fancy heading up there for a bit?" 

Your eyes were beaming the minute the wheel started spinning. You'd managed to get a pod all to yourselves, a rare opportunity, but one you grasped with two hands, laughing as he picked you up and spun you round and around. "We should run." you spoke softly, hand running through his hair gently as you looked into his eyes. "For you, I would." he murmured, catching your lips for a long kiss, it wasn't quick or fiery, just a deep, long passionate kiss. He took his time with you because he had it, there wasn't any rush here, no chance of being caught or stopped. His kiss said a thousand words about the way he loved you.

Looking out over London's bustling city with your head in George's chest made you realise just how perfect a life with him was. When there were no cameras, no press, no fakery and especially no Cherry in sight, It was easy to feel every beat of his heart, as they synced together beating as one. You were tracing circles on the back of his hand taking in every curve of his knuckles and the beauty of every sporadic freckle. Only you could differentiate the touch of your lover so distinctly, you felt him in the way he curled his fingertips up when he cupped your jaw, or how his arm would wrap around your waist with enough strength that made you feel protected. 

"Where would we go if we ran?" You mumbled softly, your small fingers slotting through the gaps between his own. "Remote Indonesia…" he joked, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. "I'd go anywhere with you, My Love, one day we won't have to run, I Just wish eighteen year old me had enough balls to say he loved you and then we wouldn't be in this mess." you shook your head, pulling his arms around you tighter as you snuggled into his hold, "Don't you dare, George, It's you and me forever, no matter what, right?" he hummed contently, pulling your hand up to press a gentle kiss to your knuckles, trailing kisses up your arm to your neck between every word. "Forever, and ever, and ever, and ever…"

 //

You'd just stumbled your way into your dorm, arm still in a sling after a pretty nasty accident, a bludger to the ribcage never did a girl any good. A box of chocolates lay on your bed, as well as a note. 

Words aren't enough to tell you how sorry I am, I'll make it up to you, I promise . Get well soon, Y/N <3

-G

Locking eyes with George from across the great hall as you sat with your friends and he with his, he was looking at you with pleading, guilty glances. It really wasn't George's fault that the bludger hit you, sure he hit it, but you were on rival teams and that was the danger of the game. If the fact that he was the first at your side when you struck the floor should've made it obvious, but the fact that you were struggling to breathe and you couldn't move much really over shone the moment. 

You were sat in the room of requirement, in front of the roaring fire, staring directly at each other. You were only a month into the relationship and It wasn't awkward, just unfamiliar, he wasn't sure if he could touch you or hold you, let alone kiss the pain away. Instead he settled for holding your hand, thumb brushing over the back of it comfortably. 

"You need to stop blaming yourself George," 

"But I hurt you, and I-" 

"Shh, baby, the massive Iron ball hurt me… It’s all part of the game." You had now leant forward to crawl onto your knees, kneeling before him, you pressed your lips to his, making him forget about his bewitching thoughts, now only focused on you. 

"I'm going to protect you." George stated so matter-of-factly, that it made you recoil slightly. It was tough words from a 16 year old. He caught your expression, "I'm serious. It's going to be me and you, Forever." You were blushing, he made you feel like the only girl in the world. 

"No matter what?" You questioned. 

"Forever, no matter what."

//

After your impromptu date, George made his way to the shop and you went back to his to grab your phone, and get ready for practice. You'd left it there, the time away from the pinging and buzzing from Cherry's latest update

 or her next best opportunity. You were unsurprised by the 30 odd messages from your Publicist rambling on, but one stuck out like a sore thumb. Fred. 'shit' you thought, 'I've gone and missed something.' hesitantly opening the message to see just one message. 

>> are you gonna head by the shop today? No worries if not, I know you're busy x

<< I’ll try and pop in before practice, if not… coffee tomorrow? :)

You contemplated how your reply sounded while you stripped from your clothes to pull on your branded activewear, a picture caught your eye, the Gryffindor quidditch team, captained by Oliver Wood in Harry’s first year. They all looked so young and eager to get out onto the field. A devilish idea crept into your mind and you found yourself rooting through George’s drawers, finding exactly what you had set out for. You pulled on the old Gryffindor quidditch sweater, observing yourself in the mirror, It was odd to see yourself in the deep maroon and orange after years of donning the silver and green. You picked up your phone, sending George a quick text. 

<< Meet me down the alley by B&B… I need to show you something. I’ll be 5 x

>> I won’t ask ;) x

You wrapped your coat around your shoulders, slinging your duffel over your arm before grabbing your wand, apperating just up Knockturn Alley. you checked over your shoulder, hoping not to be caught, you passed Bourgin and Burkes, spotting the boy with fiery red hair standing down the secluded alley. 

“What did you need to show me then, trouble?” he joked leaning against the wall, steam billowing from his lips from the bitter cold. You smirked, unzipping your coat to show him the knitted sweater. “Is that-” you cut him off with a nod, fingertips reaching to zip your jacket back up, but his strong hands catch your wrists, pinning you against the wall. “Take it off or I’ll rip it off.” he was half joking, smirking down at you as you rolled your eyes. He caught your lips in a hurried kiss, his hand leaving your wrist to cup the side of your face. 

Even with your eyes closed you noticed the bright flash, a flash you knew all too well. You’d been caught. Thinking quickly on your toes, you put on your signature giggle, pushing George’s chest away while whispering a soft ‘play along’, as your eyes caught his, you bat your eyelashes. “Freddie, stop it will you?” he tried his hardest not to laugh, as he backed up holding his hands up in defeat. “I can’t hold my girl from her practice any longer.” the small group of paparazzi were begging for another kiss, or at least more interaction, you dragged George away from the scene, “show’s over I’m afraid folks!” the cameras continued to rapidly flash as you  quickly apperated him away from the scene to his office. 

“That’s gonna be the front page tomorrow,” you sighed as you slumped into his desk chair, throwing your bag to the floor, “Cheryl is going to murder me in broad daylight,” He was gently rubbing your shoulder, before he leaned down pressing a kiss to your forehead. “We’ll fix it, baby.” he reassured you, tilting your chin up to look at him. “Forever.” the word that quickly became your ‘I love you’. You stood and pulled off the jumper, as well as your jacket, handing him back what was his. “Make sure to take it home will you? We can have some fun later with it,” you smirked, picking up your bag and sending him a wink before apperating to practice. 

Cherry’s deep red car was outside of the stadium, you dreaded the conversation that was about to happen, contemplating just bolting out of there. ‘Better to face her head on than piss her off’ you thought, taking a deep breath to calm yourself down before opening up the door and climbing into the passenger seat with a smile. “You should’ve said you were swinging by and I would’ve showered, I feel bad stinking up your car!” you joked, trying your best to sound surprised by her visit as you pulled your duffel onto your lap. 

“Good news, You’ll be the front cover of the prophet tomorrow.” you gasped, a smile on your lips, “I am?” she laughed, tapping away on her phone, pulling up a picture, “Yeah it’s you and Fred… locking lips. Care to explain what happened to the ‘no kissing’ rule” You took the phone thrust into your face by your publicist, looking at the picture snapped just a few hours prior. You had to admit George did look pretty sexy in the position he was caught in, you looked over at her with pleading eyes. “I’d love to congratulate you, but that’s not Fred you’re kissing, is it?”

You cocked your eyebrow at her, “Who else would it be? Of course it’s Freddi- wait you don’t think that’s George do you?” you laughed, pressing your lips together, to stop the full laugh erupting. “Don’t let Fred hear you say that, he gets funny about people mistaking him for George, you know.” she looked back at you blankly, clearly unappreciative of your laughter. “Come on Cherry, what reason would I have to be kissing George?” you tried to think of a reason around the ‘no kissing rule’ “The only reason I don’t like kissing Fred at events is because I don’t want it to seem fake, I’m obviously not adverse to kissing him, I just like to do it in private, He is an attractive man after all.”  Cheryl was now squinting at you, she sighed however, pulling her phone back out of your hands. 

“You’re right, why would It be George?” she adds, pulling the car out of it’s parking space, “Here, I’ll drop you home, you need a shower desperately.” you laughed pulling out your phone, seeing a text from both of the twins. 

>> Let me know when you’re on your way home, I’ll stick the shower on for us ;) x

>> Coffee tomorrow it is! :) 

When you jump out of the car, Cherry rolls down her window, to speak to you. “I want a nice kiss like that for the product launch.” you go to protest but she cuts you off. “Make it happen.” and with that she was away in the wind.

Today was a close call, almost too close for comfort. You and George needed to be more careful, and harder yet, you had to keep that copy of the Daily Prophet out of Fred’s eyeshot. 

// TO BE CONTINUED // Chapter Three >>>>>

taglist //  @starlightweasley​ @slytherinsunrise @gcdric @theweasleysredhair @whiz-bangs78 @weasleysflowr @vogueweasley @minty-malfoy @vivianweasley @feetoffthetablee @thisismynerdyself @rip-us @witch-and-a-half @sarcasticallywitty15 @pandaxnienke @loony-loopy-lupinn​ @pigwidgexn​@starkidpotty​ @mrmoonyy​ @mackaywhore​ @softlyqoos​ @colorfulprofessornickelangel​ @fandomscombine​ @satellitespidey​ @txtdreamss​ @aaannabbanana​ @kaylahmarie​

[hyunjilicious]

the premiere [chris evans]

A/n: This was requested and it took me TWO AGES to write, so I’m sorry. The anon mentioned I should make it as smutty as possible, but I thought that since this is my first ever Chris Evans fic, I shouldn’t go too far..? I still hope you’ll like it, and if you do, please don’t hesitate to tell me!! It makes my day!!

Summary: You and Chris are friends with benefits. When he takes you the premiere of his latest movie, a series of events leads to a meet-up in the bathroom, where things get heated. (SMUT) 4.1k

Warnings: unprotected sex, dirty talk with a hint of degradation (Chris is a liiiiiittle bit of an asshole but he makes up for it, I promise), daddy kink, choking + breath play and if you squint there is also some size kink there!

-

The amount of nervous sweat that had pooled inside your pores was threatening to pass the threshold of common sense. Tens of cameras and hundreds of eyes pointed at you, the uncomfortable high heels you regretted wearing and the amount of Hollywood A-listers around you, were all getting too much for you to bear.

Initially, Chris remained glued to your side; never allowing even the tiniest bit of space to be put between your bodies, but now things have changed.

You missed his presence by your side as it was literally your safe net, especially in situations like these. That was why every time you felt a conversation with some random attendee had run its course, your eyes would instantly search for Chris. Just knowing he was in the same room, calmed you down. 

Afraid not to seem too clingy, you did your best to stay away from him. But that only proved to be more difficult as more and more minutes passed. He always had a devious grin plastered on his lips whenever you looked at him from the other side of the room.

At one point, alone and away from any group of people that were only looking to make small talk, you retreated into a corner, and took out your phone. Among the tens of notifications on your lock screen, there was also a text from Chris, which arrived about 2 minutes prior. It only read an "😏" next to the name you saved him under, 'Daddy x'

Unable but also unwilling to hide your blush, you raised your gaze and found him, along 3 of his friends about 10 meters to the side. The group seemed to be in the middle of a ravenous conversation, everyone frantically gesticulating. Everyone but Chris. His eyes were trained on you, and remained like that as he took a sip of his whiskey. He watched you over the rim of the glass, and then proceeded to lick his lips suggestively.

You knew what that meant, and before your mind even got a chance to process it, your core already started to ache in anticipation. Busying yourself around the venue, you did your best to make the night pass faster. You wanted to get home, you knew Chris wanted you and that was not a mood of his you ever wanted to miss.

Things seemed to be going well until you found yourself at the bar, ordering another cocktail. As you waited for the employee to prepare your drink, you felt a strong hand caress your side, before shamelessly slapping your ass. You jumped, surprised and offended, only to see Chris as he walked away.

At this point, watching his muscles flex under the navy blue suit he wore, you were basically dripping.

When the announcement was made for everyone to take their seats as the movie was set to begin in a couple of minutes, you breathed out relieved, happy you'd finally be able to spend two hours in his presence without anyone asking any questions. 

Or that was what you thought. When you took your seat, you couldn't have been more disappointed to see Chris was nowhere around. After contemplating how bad of an idea it would be to call and ask, your phone buzzed in your hand.

"3b exit. 2nd door on your left. Now"

As you read the text, you couldn't fight the urge to rub your thighs together. But it didn't help. At all. You knew what was waiting for you so your pathetic attempt to alleviate the pain between your legs proved to be entirely in vain.

When you stood up, the lights went down and the movie started.

Slowly making your way down the hallway, you could already feel your heart beating out of your chest. When you reached the door he mentioned in his text, you saw that it was supposed to lead to a bathroom. A small pang of disappointment enveloped you, as you wished you were actually going to meet him outside and head home. Still, you took a deep breath and pushed the door open.

The light inside was a heavy shade of red, making the anyway overly exotic bathroom look downright erotic. You took another deep breath and looked to the side, your eyes landing on Chris’s frame.

He was standing in front of the mirror, his suit jacket missing from his shoulders. He had his sleeves rolled up, his shirt still neatly tucked into his pants. A sight for sore eyes, you thought to yourself as your eyes traveled down his frame.

Chris raised his head, his gloomy gaze meeting yours through the reflection in the mirror. 

"Hey" you smiled, only now closing the door behind you.

In a matter of seconds, he turned around with a devious grin on his lips. "Glad you listened to me, doll. I was afraid you wouldn't" he said, taking hurried menacing steps in your direction. 

"Why?" you giggled.

His grin only widened at your cluelessness, but only until he reached you. Chris didn't waste any time before grabbing your cheeks into his massive hands and slamming your back into the door before he kissed you.

The air was punched out of your lungs. His lips effortlessly engulfed yours as he pushed himself against you, consuming you.

Eventually, he went on to kiss along your jawline, traveling down your neck as he spoke greedily against your skin, "Teased me all fucking night long, baby"

"I didn't do anything" you breathed out, melting under his touch.

In that moment, you knew he was serious as his hands trapped your waist, his fingers burning through the material of your dress, "Don't play dumb, angel, we both know where you stand"

"Chris-" you whined, holding onto his shoulders for support as you arched your back, your breasts rubbing against his rock hard chest.

He hummed, as a signal for you to say what was on your mind.

"Come on-" you panted, enjoying the way the pain of his teeth sinking into your skin turned into pleasure. "Let's go"

To that, he stopped. Chris pulled away from you with a look of pure confusion in his eyes, "Go where, Y/n?"

"Home..? To your apar-"

"Oh" he chuckled, eyes dark as devious new ideas popped into his mind, thoughts materialising, "You're not going anywhere until I fuck the slut of you"

His words, although crude and delivered in a malicious tone, fueled your senses and made your core buzz. "Hell no" you said, against your gut, "I'm not-"

"You know how things work" he shook his head, forcibly grabbing your forearm and pulling you until you were facing the mirror. "Don't turn all good girl on me right now"

As if you weren't already shamelessly riled up, the reflection in the mirror seriously did the job. You watched your frame, delicately wrapped in the almost see-through material of your dress, and then your eyes slipped to the side, where Chris was towering over you. Shoulders significantly broader and almost a head taller than you, his presence forced your heart into overdrive.

He looked down at you, bringing his left hand up to wrap his fingers around your neck. Instinctively, you allowed a soft moan to escape your lips as you fell back against his stone solid chest. 

"Look how gorgeous you are" Chris grinned, rubbing his thumb up and down your jugular, "And I trained you so fucking well, don't disappoint me"

Heaving, you arched your back, unconsciously rubbing your ass against his already rock hard cock. "I didn't- I didn't lock the door. What- what if someone comes in?"

"Then they're gonna see me fucking my girl. So what? Isn't that why we're together? I have a slut to fuck whenever I feel like it and you, like the whore you are, actually fucking love it?"

"Shit-" you gasped, feeling his grip tighten around your neck as he spoke.

"Isn't it? Am I wrong?"

You fervently nodded your head, and as you gasped for air once again, he released you.

"I didn't hear that?" Chris taunted, leaning down to whisper in your ear.

"Fuck, of course" you said, your own words worsening the pain between your legs. "Yes, you're right"

"Now you're not just saying that, are you, angel?"

"No!" you said, with a kind of eagerness you didn't know you owned. Turning around in his hold, you placed your hands on his chest before looking up into his darkened eyes, "You know I'm all in, I'm sorry. You know I always do what you tell me, Daddy, I don't know what's gotten into me"

"That's what I wanted to hear, pet" Chris said, roughly rubbing his thumb across your bottom lip, "Now turn around and open that pretty mouth for me, princess, hm?"

Obediently this time, you spun around to face the mirror and parted your lips, eagerly awaiting his next move.

After enjoying the view for a few brief seconds, Chris sunk his right hand into the pocket of his trousers, fishing out his phone. Your heart rate picked up as his left hand returned around your neck, this time only teasing its way up to your lips. He shoved two fingers into your mouth and your muscle memory kicked in as you instantly started to suck on them.

"Oh my god!" Chris exclaimed. You felt him move around a bit, his cock pressing into your ass, "You're fuck toy material, you know that?"

With his fingers still knuckles deep inside your mouth, you nodded, eyes trained on his reflection.

"Now open wide, you little slut. Poke that tongue out for Daddy" he commanded, and then forced his fingers deeper, reaching the back of your throat.

You coughed softly, your gag reflex threatening to kick in. But he kept going, "Choke on my fingers, angel. Come on, I wanna see a sweet little tear."

A low moaning sound escaped your throat, followed by another cough which signaled your air supply was running low.

"A little more, pet. I know you can do it, show me what I want to see"

But it was him who pushed your limits once again. Chris pushed his fingers down harder against your tongue, triggering another cough. This one was rougher however, as tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, while you struggled to catch your breath even after he pulled his fingers away.

The pressure between your legs kept increasing, becoming almost unbearable when you felt his hand against your side, soothingly rubbing your waist.

In just about a few seconds, you came back to your senses and immediately turned around, eyes desperately searching for Chris's.

"That's my good girl" he smiled proudly, looking down at you in awe.

You nodded obediently, rubbing your thighs together.

"Wanna see how hot you are, angel?" he grinned, unlocking his phone and opening up the gallery. The ease with which he scrolled down through the app and typed in the password to his secret album, proved just how often he accessed your pictures. It made you beam.

Once the shots he just took popped up on the screen, your mouth watered. You didn't even look at yourself, just him - admired his immense frame, the proud smirk on his lips and the pure lust in his eyes.

"You’re such a good slut, baby" he spoke against your temple, "You love listening to me, don't you? Having no say whatsoever, no control over what's gonna happen to this sweet body of yours. Being at my mercy? I told you you don't get to breathe right now, you didn't even fight, darling. You're just too eager to please me, aren't you?"

"Yes, Daddy" you nodded, his grave tone of voice sending shivers down your spine.

"Good, good" Chris sighed.

Then, effortlessly and in one swift motion, he spun you around, to face the mirror again. Placing his big hand on your upper back, between your shoulder blades, he forced you down, bending your body over the sink.

With his foot, Chris forced your ankles apart. The sound of his belt buckle being undone made all the hairs on your body stand up, but the zipper was the last drop, forcing a sweet moan to escape your lips.

"Be patient, baby" he spoke, pulling your dress up, over your hips. Curling two fingers around the waistband of your panties, he pulled them down your legs, until they fell around your ankles.

Now, being completely exposed in front of him, you couldn't take it anymore. "Come on, please, I need you"

"I know you do, darling" Chris said with a sweet but still condescending tone, "but I'm not done yet"

It was clear what he meant when you heard the camera of his phone click again. The sound made your walls clench. All your buttons had been pushed, you couldn't wait anymore.

"Please" you whined, wiggling your body to get his attention.

A few seconds of silence followed, and then he threw his phone on the edge of the sink, mere inches away from your face.

His right hand connected to your ass, his fingers sinking into your skin until you couldn't feel the pressure anymore, just a stinging sensation. Nibbling on your lower lip, you tried your best to be good, and you succeeded, at first. When the first slap was delivered however, you couldn't help yourself.

Whimpering, you enjoyed the feeling of pain as it dissipated and turned into pleasure. Chris kept going, decorating your cheeks with countless red hand marks, each more painful than the other.

"You good, baby?" he asked, caressing the inflamed skin of your ass, "Does it hurt?"

You nodded yes.

"Good, angel, it has to. Can you take more?"

"Y-yes"

And that, that was your wrong doing. What followed turned out to be much more than you ever thought you could handle. He showed no mercy or remorse as you whined and struggled, your legs shaking uncontrollably. It was unclear why he stopped when he did, but you were grateful.

"You’re fucking dripping down your thighs" Chris said, moving his hand between your legs, "I wanna see how far I can push you, how long I can keep going until I break you, doll."

You remained silent, fighting the urge to tell him to do it. 

"But I won't, not tonight. Wish we were home, I don't want us to make the headlines for something like this"

"Fuck.." you chuckled, "God, no"

"Of course I won't anything like that happen" Chris assured you. 

A wave of warmth and safety threatened to overcome you as you took in his words, but then, less than 10 seconds later, you felt a nudge against your opening. Your mouth instantly watered as he pushed himself in, his massive cock forcing your walls to spread beyond what you considered comfortable.

He filled you up in an instant, slamming himself balls deep into your pussy. The feeling was earth shattering, just like his heavy breathing. You knew he was in 7th heaven, and you absolutely adored being the source of his pleasure.

At first he didn't move, proceeding to rub your hips and reddened ass, while allowing your pussy to adjust to his size. You felt yourself pulse around his member, every indentation and vein amplifying the sensation.

"I'm sorry, doll, but I think you were made for me. Don't think there's any other pussy in this world that can take my cock like you do"

"Maybe I was" you teased as you rolled your hips back and forth, creating a minimal amount of friction.

Chris grunted, "Fuck-"

He grabbed your hips with force, suddenly his patience dissipating into thin air. It took you aback - the way he controlled your body. Chris picked up his pace, slamming his hips into you without holding back. The momentul had your body rocking back and forth, your hair falling over your face as you didn't have the energy to even keep your head up anymore.

"Fuck yourself with my cock" Chris commanded, letting go of your hips.

He slapped your thighs one more time, as your cue to start, and then gathered his hands behind his back.

That wasn't what you wanted. You loved it when he did all the work and you had no effort to make, and just allow yourself to enjoy the moment. 

Barely managing to maintain your balance on your wobbly feet, you started grinding, slowly moving back and forth against his cock. You were doing a pathetic job and he was quick to object.

"Come on, Y/n-" he scoffed, slapping your ass with anger, "Ride my cock like you fucking mean it. Milk my cock like the slut you are"

His words went straight to your core, accentuating your arousal.

"Oh, oh!" Chris laughed, slapping your ass again, "Did your cunt seriously just clench around me?"

"Holy- urgh maybe" you grunted.

"Make me cum" he commanded.

This time, you didn't hold back.

White knuckling the edge of the sink, you found leverage and balance, now allowing you to move with ease. Slowly at first, but picking up your pace by the second, you rocked your body against his cock, your determination noticeable in the vigor of your movements.

And it was obvious that this time you were doing it right. So on point that Chris's heavy breathing and low grunts echoed above the redundant sound of your skin slapping into his. Catching a glimpse of his expression on the mirror, was proof that he was drowning in pure fucking pleasure. The ecstasy and awe was readable on his features.

And you kept going. Blocking out all sounds and surroundings, until a harsh buzz broke your concentration.

Looking down, next to your right hand, you saw Chris's phone ringing.

"Who- who the fuck is Elle N.?" you panted.

But he didn't care. It was as if your words never even reached him.

"Chris!?" you called again, this time stopping.

"What are you-" he began asking, but stopped when you shoved the phone into his hands.

"Who is that?" you asked.

"Publicist, who gives a-"

"Chris-" you said, "And I mean this with absolute seriousness, if TMZ bursts into the bathroom, cameras pointed at us, you're fucking done with me. It's all fun and games, until we show up on national TV"

He rolled his eyes, pure annoyance shining through his eyes. "What?" he yelled into the phone after accepting the call.

As he listened to the person on the other end of the line, his hand roamed over the curve of your ass, his fingers purposely applying pressure to the most inflamed areas.

You bit your lips in order to not make any sounds, but eventually started rolling your hips, determined to give him a piece of his own medicine. 

Chris closed his eyes, and threw his head back, murmuring something under his breath that you couldn't quite make out. About 20 seconds later, he ended the call with a harsh, "Bite me"

"The fuck was that?" you asked.

"You have about 3 minutes to make me cum, otherwise you're in big fucking trouble"

"What?"

He nodded his head, somehow looking amused, "And you'll also end up on national TV"

"Jesus Christ-" you scoffed, determined to pull away and leave.

"Oh fuck no" he stopped you, slamming you back down. "I came here to fuck you, you best believe I'm gonna do it. Work that magic cunt and drain my balls now, Y/n"

"Chris-" you wanted to protest.

"None of that, you hear me?" he growled, grabbing a fistful of your hair and pulling you up, "Your time is running low. You've never fucking seen me actually angry. If we get to that, you're gonna regret it. Now, be a good little whore, and make me cum"

For the first time, you actually felt a surge of fear course through your body. "Ok" you muttered.

When he released you, you leaned back down, resumed your previous position, and started pumping yourself into his cock again. For you, it was doing the trick. The angle and the fear of getting caught fueled your senses, driving you closer and closer to the edge. 

But for Chris, it didn't seem to be enough. As only a few seconds passed before he took control, framing your hips into his hands and handling your body to fit his needs. His pace was much more aggressive than what you had been doing, but it was also much more effective.

It was all a haze. Chris managed to send you falling down an endless spiral of pleasure, everything around you turning to blur. Your ears buzzed and your body was out of your control, muscles spasming unreasonably as you allowed yourself to get drunk with ecstasy.

When Chris finished too, mere seconds later, you thought you couldn't ever feel any better. He was quick to pull out, and move to the side to clean himself, but not before giving your ass a rewarding slap.

"Gotta go now," he said, fixing himself up.

You were still out of it, catching your breath as his cum dripped out of your pussy. "Yeah, I know, go"

As he did his belt, Chris involuntarily did a double take, "I'm sorry-" he said, his demeanor now unusually soft. "I wish I didn't have to-"

"It's fine-" you giggled, your voice low and breathy, "I'm still not 100% back, but I know you have to go, don't worry"

"Are you sure?" he asked, walking over to you and tilting your chin up, "I kinda feel like an asshole"

"I mean it" you said with a smile, "Plus, this is how we usually do it anyway, so it's nothing new. I don't know why you're so worried all of a sudden"

"Damn.. I really am an asshole.."

"Chris!"

"OK, I'll go" he said, advancing towards the door, "But I'll call you later, ok? I wanna talk to you about something"

"Yes, call me whenever you want. Now go"

"Bye" Chris spoke hurriedly as he rushed out, closing the door behind him.

Confusion seeped through your veins as you were left alone in the room. You studied your reflection in the mirror, and although looking disheveled with your hair a mess, you really did feel pretty. There was life on your features and it wasn't from the expensive makeup you had on.

But all that came in perfect contrast with how you were actually feeling. You felt alone, clingy, in need of cuddles from a person who has never actually given you any. It shook you, how this time, you felt entirely different from how you usually feel after your hookups with Chris.

But there was nothing to be done. You straightened your back and started rummaging through your purse, hoping the spare powder you always had on you would be able to cover the after sex glow you had going on.

As you worked on reapplying your face, the door opened and you instinctively turned away from it. You weren't in the mood. 

"Y/n" a familiar voice called.

You looked up to see Chris sprinting towards you.

"What are you-"

"Fuck 'em. Fuck the cameras, fuck the interviews, fuck the labels, fuck the reporters"

"Wait, what-" you cringed, "Slow down, I don't understand"

He took a deep breath, "Fuck 'em"

"What happened?"

"Come on" he said, grabbing your hand, "Come with me"

"Um.. Chris? I don't think that's a good idea. My hair is all fucked and I'm pretty sure the eye shadow-"

"I don't know what you mean, you look absolutely gorgeous, perfect even-" Chris said, his eyes wide open and fixed on yours, "But that doesn't even matter, let's go home"

"I don't get it. People were looking for you"

"Who gives a shit? Do I give a shit? I don't give a shit!"

"Chris…"

"Seriously, Y/n-" he said, cupping your cheeks and bringing your face inches away from his, "I wanna make you dinner. I have that gross white wine you like so much even though I don't understand how you can drink that shit. And I'll run a bath, I don't have bath bombs but I think conditioner works too-"

"It doesn't"

"Eh then we'll just smell nice" Chris said in a heartbeat. "And then I'll eat you out into fucking oblivion, yeah? Doesn't that sound good? Better than boring interviews and that movie I'm barely even in"

It was all just too much to process. "What changed? I-"

"Nothing changed" he shook his head, "I always wanted to do this. I thought that if I brought you to this event things would develop between us somehow. I don't know why I thought that. Don't ask. And that's why I told you to come into the bathroom. But then I was too shy to say anything and then I left and things were exactly where they were when we got here and I said that-"

"Chris?"

"Yeah?" he sighed, catching his breath.

"Shut up and let's see how good you can cook"

[shaynawrites23]

For Family Or For Love

Pairing: adult!Remus Lupin x reader

Word count: 2492

Prompts: “Are you scared of me?” “No. Never.”

“It doesn’t matter what they think. I love you, and that’s what matters.”

Written for @johnmurphyisbisexual’s writing challenge!

Special thanks to @the-moon-and-the-book for both beta reading and coming up with the title!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The heavy door to your private chambers creaked open to reveal the room’s other occupant; your husband, Remus Lupin. He carried an enormous stack of tests to grade in one hand, two cups of coffee in the other, and he held a newspaper clenched between his teeth. He shut the door the same way he opened it; with his foot.

You leapt forward to help him, taking some of the items from where they balanced precariously in his hold, constantly on the verge of falling. He breathed a sigh of thanks, pressing a kiss to your temple as you made your way to the bed.

Upon closer inspection, you realized half the papers he had brought in were actually yours. You taught Herbology and had recently assigned an essay. You hummed in gratitude when Remus handed you a pastry and a couple of colored muggle pens. You knew the older members of the faculty preferred quill and ink, but you chose pens. They were easier to use and much less tedious to maintain.

He smiled softly, humming in acknowledgement as you both sat down to mark papers. The room lapsed into silence, the only sound being the clicking of pens and the occasional mutters of disapproval when either of you saw something you didn’t particularly like.

A tapping on the window broke you out of your concentration. You spun around, eyes searching for the source of the sound when you spotted a small brown owl perched on the windowsill, rapping its beak against the glass.

A messenger owl.

You jumped up, hurrying over to fling open the window and welcome the creature inside. The poor thing was soaked through; it was pouring outside.

“Rem, will you get me a towel for the owl?”

“Sure thing, love.” He disappeared into the adjoining bathroom and emerged moments later with a navy blue towel.

You gently wrapped the owl up in the cloth, hoping it would help the animal get warm and dry.

There was a small cylindrical vessel strapped to the owl’s back, colored a deep red, like the darkest red visible during a sunset. You undid the clasps holding it in place, popping off the cap and peering inside. The case held a sheet of paper, rolled up tightly in order to make it fit.

“Who’s it from?” Remus’s gentle voice inquired.

You didn’t reply immediately, unfurling the note and letting your eyes fly over the words first.

“My parents,” you finally answered. “They want to have us over for dinner tomorrow evening.”

“That’ll be a welcome distraction from marking papers,” he remarked.

Remus was on relatively good terms with your family. They were somewhat sceptical of his background at first, but decided they would be happy as long as you were. Your father gave a very nervous and jittery Remus his blessing shortly before he proposed, and you had been happily married ever since.

You laughed. “Definitely.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When you awoke the next morning, your hand searched the bed for Remus, for his warmth. You found nothing. Only when your fingers reached the edge of the bed, the precipice between the sheets and the floor, did you open your eyes.

You blinked blearily, letting your eyes get accustomed to the light entering through the small gap between the curtains. Remus was nowhere to be seen.

Throwing on your robes, you shuffled over to the bathroom and peered inside. Where was he? He was indeed a morning person, but there was no reason for him to be up this early in the weekend.

Your incessant internal questions were soon answered when you heard the telltale creak of the heavy wooden door. Remus entered; you could tell from his hunched shoulders he was deep in thought. The dark circles under his eyes told you he had probably not slept much the past few hours.

“Rem? Remus, is everything all right?” You placed a gentle hand on his shoulder.

He wouldn’t meet your eyes, simply holding up a newspaper and muttering, “See for yourself.”

So you took the paper from him, sitting on the bed as you turned the pages in an attempt to find out what exactly was troubling him so. The sound of the paper crackling under your fingers which usually held so much satisfaction for you, gave you no pleasure this time.

“Oh no.”

You now knew what it was, you knew what had upset him. The fifth page of the paper held a picture of him; it depicted him perfectly, there was no chance of anyone not recognize him. And on the off chance someone didn’t connect the dots, his name was printed right below it. The article revealed his true nature, his lycanthropy, informing everyone who didn’t yet know that Hogwarts’s Defense Against the Dark Arts professor was a werewolf.

You glanced up. Remus stood at the open window, both hands leaning on the windowsill as he looked out over the school grounds. You could tell from his posture he was incredibly worried, and he had every right to be. No one would hire a werewolf, much less send their child to a school which had one employed as a teacher.

“Remus?”

“How could this happen?” His voice cracked and you knew he was trying his very best to keep control of his emotions. “We were so careful, how is this possible?”

“I don’t know,” you murmured. “But we’ll handle this the way we always do; together.”

“There’s nothing left to handle.”

“Remus, my love, don’t give up hope. There’s always something. Perhaps my family can help; they have a well-respected name.”

He didn’t reply immediately, instead gazing out over the field where students were playing, studying, or just hanging out.

“They don’t know yet, do they?” It was not a question, more like a statement, as you both knew it to be true.

“They don’t- they didn’t,” you sighed. “But my family knows you. We’re married, for Merlin’s sake. They’re not going to shun you.”

“We shall see about that,” he muttered, straightening up nevertheless. “In the meantime, I should probably have a talk with Minnie. I’ll see you later for lunch?”

You nodded. “As always.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Fastening your hairpin, you gave yourself a final once over in the mirror. You were dressed to the nines, and yet you wouldn’t classify your attire as too fancy for the occasion. Satisfied with your appearance, you exited the bathroom adjoining your shared bedroom to go look for Remus.

“Rem?” you called. “You ready to go?

You opened the door separating your bedroom from the hallway with its incredibly high ceilings, as could be expected from any old building. Your husband stood outside, leaning against the wall as he waited.

He hummed in confirmation, a soft smile spreading over his face at the sight of you. He reached for your hand, entwining his fingers with yours as he twirled you around slowly, admiration plain in his eyes. Pulling you close, he pressed his lips to yours, gingerly, as though you were the most precious treasure one could possibly imagine.

“Rem!” you laughed, “We have to go! You know my mother hates when we’re late!”

“As my lady wishes.”

With that, he waved his wand and you disapparated, reapparating right outside your parents’ large house. Walking up the cold stone steps, you felt Remus stiffen slightly, and you squeezed his hand. A comforting gesture, one he immediately returned.

The doorbell sounded loudly, chiming once, twice, three times before falling silent. You waited as quick, light footsteps approached, flinging open the door.

“Auntie (y/n)!” the young girl cried, jumping up and down in excitement. It was your young niece Ada, dressed in a pretty pink skirt and with her hair coiffed in cute, bouncy curls. “It’s auntie (y/n)!”

Another set of footsteps approached, slower and calmer than Ada’s. Your mother appeared in the doorway, smiling and greeting you and Remus as she ushered you inside.

“Dinner’s not ready yet,” she remarked casually as she returned to the kitchen, presumably to continue preparing the meal.

Little Ada remained by your side, dragging you by your hand to come look at her latest drawing. Remus still stood in the hall, but the young girl kept you so occupied you could do little more than glance at him every few minutes.

Your father and your brother soon entered, laughing loudly at what must have been an incredibly funny joke.

“Ah, (y/n)!” your father exclaimed when he spotted you sitting in a corner with Ada on your lap and a children’s book in your hand. “I see Ada’s gotten to you already.”

“Yes, she has. I didn’t remember her having this much energy the last time,” you joked, but Ada tugged on your arm to remind you you were supposed to be reading her fairytales.

“Ah, and Remus.” You couldn’t help but notice how much less enthusiastic your father’s greeting was when it was addressed to your husband.

“How’s Edward doing?” your brother cut in. “Not causing too much trouble, I hope?”

Edward was your brother’s eldest child, older than Ava by six years. He started his first year at Hogwarts that year, and your brother was rather anxious about his progress.

“He’s doing very well in his classes,” Remus replied. “Naturally, he’s pulled a couple of pranks here and there, but that is to be expected from such an energetic young lad like him.”

“I see. And no issues with… supernatural creatures?”

Your head snapped up at that. Ada whined for you to continue reading, but you simply told her to wait a moment. You were certain there was a venomous serpent hiding somewhere in your brother’s words, and when it would jump out to ambush you, someone was sure to get hurt.

Remus remained perfectly calm. “None that I am aware of. The boy’s a very talented wizard; he has proven himself very capable of defeating any creature we presented him with.”

Your brother’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly, and as if struck by a lightning bolt of insight, you know this was heading downhill. It was only a matter of moments before he’d attack Remus about his lycanthropy.

You were right.

“Lupin, you’re a danger to the children! It’s not safe for them to be around you.”

“He is not!” you burst out. You stood up and stalked over to them, the fairytale long forgotten.

“He’s a werewolf.” Your brother spoke in the same tone you’d heard him use when explaining things to Ada; things that one would expect to be obvious.

“He’s also a professor, and has been for years. Nothing’s happened.”

“Maybe not yet, but that doesn’t mean it won’t happen.”

Your mother emerged from the kitchen, clearly wondering what on earth was going on. Rather than engage herself in the argument, she stood in the doorway, arms crossed and leaning against the doorframe.

Remus’s hand searched for yours, entwining his fingers with yours as soon as he found it. You noticed your brother’s gaze fly towards the gesture, as if he feared a more nefarious action. But Remus was simply holding your hand, squeezing gently as if to say, ‘calm down, love.’

“(y/n), get away from him.” Your brother’s order hung in the air like a sword dangling above both your heads, waiting to see who would give in first. Your parents seemed to want to intervene, but you could tell they didn’t know what to do.

“No.”

“Excuse me?!”

“No, I won’t.” You felt like a defiant child arguing with a parent, but that didn’t matter to you. “He’s my husband and I love him. Werewolf or not.”

“It’s okay, darling,” Remus whispered to you, tone low enough that no one else could catch his words.

“What, are you threatening her now?” Your brother was clearly beyond seeing reason, too angry to think logically.

Remus was caught off guard by that accusation, and unfortunately for him, his split second’s hesitation was plain to see. “I merely told her it was okay, that she doesn’t need to fight for my honor.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“I am not in the habit of lying. I am an honest man and am telling the truth.” There was a stark contrast between your brother’s wild accusations and Remus’s calm demeanor. You only hoped it would not simply pour more oil onto the fire.

“You’re a monster,” he finally spat, as if the words themselves were pure poison. “How do we know it’s not only a matter of time before you hurt (y/n)?”

That was a low blow and you all knew it. Your mother gasped, hand flying to her mouth in shock.

“I would never hurt her.”

“Maybe you wouldn’t, but what about the wolf?”

Neither of you could answer that, both fully aware he didn’t have that much control over his other half.

“Please excuse me,” Remus muttered, glancing at your parents before grabbing his coat and leaving the building.

“There. Look what you’ve done. That was low and we all know it,” you seethed.

“(y/n), he’s dangerous! He could kill you!”

“So what? So could any other wizard. So could you, or mom. So could Ada, if she were determined enough.” You crossed your arms as you reached deep inside yourself, attempting to maintain your composure.

“But you can trust we won’t.”

“What? I can trust the same of him. He wouldn’t hurt me, I trust him.”

“So you would trust a wolf not to attack?” Your brother took two steps forward, as if his subconscious wanted to intimidate you into losing the argument. Nice try. You weren’t easily intimidated.

“He’s not a wolf! He’s Remus. My husband.”

You saw the surprise on his face when you emphasized your relationship with Remus, and you took that opportunity to continue.

“Now if you’ll excuse me, I have business to attend to.” With that, you stalked out as well, waiting until you disappeared behind the hedge outside to run after Remus.

He probably heard you coming, because you found him standing around the corner, as if he were waiting. The look in his eyes told you he had probably fought with himself to decide whether or not to wait for you to catch up.

“Rem, please ignore what he said. I know it’s hard, but he’s spewing nonsense.”

“Love, are you scared of me?”

“No. Never.” He had barely gotten his words out before you replied, without a moment’s hesitation.

“Your family seems to think you should be.”

“Remus, it doesn’t matter what they think. I love you, and that’s what matters.”

His eyes glistened with unshed tears. He stepped closer to you, cradling your cheek gently, as if he were afraid you’d shatter like glass if he was just slightly too rough with you.

Leaning in slowly, he captured your lips with his in a sweet kiss. And that alone conveyed all he needed to say.

“I love you too.”

taglist: @the-moon-and-the-book @decalcomanei @emcchi

[sonoftatooine]

Whumpay 2021

DAY 12: ALT DAY - NOT BELIEVED

Characters: Anakin Skywalker, Obi-Wan Kenobi, Mace Windu, Sheev Palpatine

Summary: Instead of being accepted into the Jedi Order after the Battle of Naboo, Anakin is rejected by the Council and given to Palpatine as an adopted son. Three years later, he reveals to Anakin that he is a Sith and that he will be his apprentice. Horrified, Anakin escapes from under his master’s watchful eye and runs away to tell the Jedi the truth.

***

“Master Kenobi, please!,” Anakin cried, twisting the long, voluminous sleeves of the Naboo robes his adoptive father had gifted him tightly in his hands, staring up at the Jedi Knight before him through messy blond curls disarrayed from his dash to the Temple. “Please don't send me back to him! I'll do anything! You don't have to make me a Jedi, just don't make me go back—”

“Young Skywalker,” Mace Windu interrupted him before the knight in question could reply. He was pinching the bridge of his nose, with a look of intense irritation on his face that had worsened and worsened ever since Anakin had given Palpatine's guards the slip and run to the Temple to tell the Jedi of the terrible truth he had discovered about the man who had taken him in after his rejection by the Order. “Your father is worried about you. Do not make this more difficult than it needs to be.”

It wouldn't be difficult if you would just believe me, Anakin wanted to shout. Of all the problems he had imagined—being caught, being unable to escape his minders, getting to the Temple from Palpatine's apartment in 500 Republica undetected—it somehow hadn't occurred to him that the Jedi might not listen to him. But if Palpatine had proved anything in the months after he revealed that he was a Sith Lord intent on reshaping the Galaxy to his will and that he, Anakin, would be his apprentice—whether he wished it or not—it was that he was cunning and manipulative in a way that Anakin was not, with a watchful eye that was extremely difficult to escape from under. The Senate guards had informed him of his adoptive son's disappearance not long after he had left, and he had acted quickly to mitigate any damage Anakin might do in his escape. As such, by the time he ran into Obi-Wan and Windu at the entrance to the Temple, instead of being listened to and believed , he had been pulled into an empty conference room, his warnings lost beneath stern lectures about running away on his own and the severity of telling lies about his father. Palpatine had contacted the Jedi before he arrived, it seemed, and spun them a web of lies—lies about him being a troubled child who made up fantasies to deal with his past—that they had readily soaked up like a sponge. Twelve is a difficult age, he had probably said, in those kindly tones that everyone swallowed hook, line and sinker. And Anakin can be a difficult child. He feels the need to push back against my authority, and so of course he sees me as a villain. In truth, Master Jedi, I fear he has never really recovered from your rejection of him. Perhaps these...fantasies are a way of proving his worth to you. Whatever it had been, neither Obi-Wan nor Master Windu doubted it, and no matter what he said, it only earned him more disbelief from the two of them.

“He's not my father!,” he exclaimed in anger and frustration. Palpatine wasn't his father. He was his master, his owner. His mother's owner. He had only taken them in so that he could use him, possess him, make it so that he would have no choice but to follow the plans he had for him—bend to his will and his alone. No matter how kind he had seemed at first—and he had seemed kind to Anakin in the beginning, despite the monster that he was—his true colours showed it to be nothing but an act. “He's evil!”

The two Jedi, exchanged a glance, one exasperated, one pained. Then, Obi-Wan turned back to him, sighing sadly.

“Anakin, I know this is hard for you, but Chancellor Palpatine only wants what's best for you,” he said. “He took you in, freed your mother from slavery. He cares for you, and he was clearly very worried for you when he found you missing.”

“Only because he doesn't want me to tell you the truth!,” Anakin shot back. Palpatine didn't care for him, nor for his mother, nor for anyone but himself. He may have taken them away from Tatooine—a small, bitter part of him that seemed to be growing bigger and bigger with each day that he spent under the old Sith's thumb, like a speck of rot at the heart of a shurra fruit, hissed that it was more than the Jedi had ever done for them—but it was not freedom. It had been nothing more than a transaction—passing them from one master to another. A master that the Jedi had given him to without a second thought. Tears sprang to his eyes. “Why won't you believe me?!”

He didn't know why it hurt so much. Why he had placed so much faith in a group of people who had been ready to cast him off like a desperate droid once they had deemed him to old and too dangerous for them, and whose sole attempt to help had landed in him in a situation that almost made him think of his life on Tatooine with longing. But despite that bitter part of him that his master had taken great pains to nurture in him, the part which remembered his innocent hope upon seeing Qui-Gon Jinn's lightsaber clipped to his hip at Jira's stall—that still thought of the Jedi as the heroes the legends spoke of—had felt, somehow, that if he could just tell them the truth, that if the Jedi knew, it would all be alright. Their refusal to believe him was a crushing blow.

“Anakin—” Obi-Wan said. He sounded pained. Anakin didn't want him to be pained, but he also wanted to be understood and believed. He needed Obi-Wan to help him and he wouldn't— Why wouldn't he—?

“He's a Sith!,” he exclaimed, his voice shaking from anger and frustrated tears. “He's the reason Padmé's planet was attacked! He's the reason Qui-Gon's dead!”

“Skywalker!” Master Windu barked sharply.

Obi-Wan had gone very white, his eyes wide and shocked, and Anakin knew he had gone too far. But it was true. Even if he didn't want to hear it, it was true, and he needed him to believe it, because if he didn't, Palpatine would punish him and his mother and then the Sith would continue on with his plan until it was too late and the Galaxy would be enslaved to him and the Jedi would be dead. He opened his mouth to continue but—

“That is quite enough, Anakin.”

Anakin froze at the sound of the familiar voice. It was the kindly Chancellor Palpatine voice rather than the foul croak of Darth Sidious, but it made Anakin shrink away and hide behind Obi-Wan's billowing robes all the same. From behind the Jedi Knight, he saw Palpatine come down the steps to the conference room from where he had been standing in the doorway, flanked by two senate guards, and adorned with his black and red robes of state and an expression of mingled displeasure and concern that he might have been convinced by had he not known the truth. But he did know the truth, and he could see the rage glinting in the Sith's eyes behind the benign veneer that had so fooled everyone else.

“Your Excellency” Windu said with a brusque nod of greeting. He couldn't see it, wouldn't see it—the evil behind the mask. Why couldn't any of them see it?

“My apologies, Master Jedi,” Palpatine said with a regretful sigh as false as his concern. Anakin knew well enough by now that Sidious would never apologise to a Jedi and mean it. “I knew this was a problem, but I had no idea—”

He cut himself off, turning sharply away and pinching the bridge of his nose. Taking in a deep breath, he lowered his hand and turned his attention back towards Anakin. He looked worried and tired, the very picture of a concerned and overworked father struggling to deal with an unruly son's latest stunt.

“What in the Galaxy were you thinking, Anakin?!,” he cried. “Running off like that? Anything could have happened to you!”

It couldn't be worse than anything you want to do to me, Anakin thought bitterly. He shrank further behind Obi-Wan, one small hand clutching tight at the back of his cloak. Obi-Wan glanced down at him, a small frown on his face, and despite his refusal to believe, Anakin felt a sliver of worry slip through the man's shields.

“I really am very sorry about this,” Palpatine said, his attention turned back towards the Jedi. He had drawn back when Anakin shrunk away from him, mindful to maintain his carefully cultivated persona—the pained father who only what was best for his son even as said son was convinced that he was the ultimate evil in the Galaxy. The smile he sent Master Windu was tinged with melancholy, even as he plotted Anakin's punishment for trying to expose him, even as he plotted the man's death and that of the entire Jedi Order. He hated him. Hated him. Hated him with the strength of a thousand suns— “I had best take him home. I'm sure he has troubled you enough already.”

No. No, he couldn't go back. He couldn't go back there. His master would be furious with him. He would hurt him. Punish him. He would hurt and punish his mother. He couldn't go back, couldn't let him— He needed the Jedi to believe him and then they could rescue her and it would all be alright. It had to be. It had to be— A gentle hand came to rest atop his head, suddenly stilling his wild thoughts. It was Obi-Wan's hand, he realised. Obi-Wan, who had made no move to send him off towards his adoptive father. Whose frown had not left his face since Palpatine arrived.

“Anakin is no trouble at all, Your Excellency” he replied. There was a hint of reprimand in his tone.

Palpatine smiled thinly.

“Of course,” he said, holding out a gnarled hand in Anakin's direction. “Come, my boy. We have taken up enough of the Jedi's time.”

Anakin did not move. He didn't want to go, couldn't go, not after what he'd done. He wanted to stay here with Obi-Wan. Palpatine would be watching him as intently as a bonegnawer did its prey, after this—it may be his only chance to get help, to find someone who would believe him and save them. No, he wouldn't go. He wouldn't, he wouldn't, he wouldn't—

There was a long pause where nobody spoke and nobody moved, and then Palpatine's face hardened.

“Come along, Anakin” he repeated. His voice was stern this time, though to the untrained ear, it did not sound unkind. Anakin, however, could hear the warning beneath the act loud and clear.

If you do not come with me right now, a cruel, croaking voice hissed inside his head through their bond, I will visit such pain upon your mother that she will be left with nothing but a half-life and a tattered soul. You think the Jedi will protect you, save her? They will do nothing, as they have always done, and your mother will curse your name for inviting such suffering upon her.

Anakin trembled. He wanted to cry. He had been so close, so close. Obi-Wan was still frowning, but he made no move to intervene, to give him an excuse to stay. Swallowing thickly, he pulled away, balling his shaking hands into fists beneath his sleeves, and headed slowly over towards his master. Palpatine's hand came to rest in-between his shoulder blades, arm blocking his route back to the Jedi like the door of a cage swinging shut.

“Thank you once again, Master Jedi,” Palpatine said, a triumphant gleam in his eyes. “We shan't impose upon you any longer.”

Come, boy, the voice hissed in his head again. Do not try my patience any further, unless you wish for a worse punishment than you've already earned. The pressure of the hand between his shoulder blades increased in warning, and Anakin had no choice but to follow along where his master led. Just as they reached the door, however, he turned, glancing back to catch Obi-Wan's eye. The frown was still on his brow, and as he met his gaze, Anakin couldn't help but imagine that there was something a little suspicious, a little unsettled in the expression on his face.

Well, Anakin thought as he was led away, perhaps there is some hope after all.

[ohtobealady]

Love your latest drabble 🤗😊Any new drabble soon? Love your Tumblr 😀

Hi, darling anonny! This was inspired by @cobertaddict :) It was fun to write, and gave me a new headcanon . . . It borrows lines from S3E8.

Mary Confides in Cora

It was the images that flashed through her mind, really. Images of the bisection anatomical diagram that the doctor had pointed to, to explain to her what he’d seen. What he could do to mend it all. It was these images that she kept seeing, the curves and bends and hidden places that lived inside of her, and they preoccupied her thoughts.

Mary wasn’t sure how she’d hide it from Matthew. She was obviously distracted by it all, Papa even noticing in the library moments ago. Darling Papa, who seemed to notice very little, especially in that regard. Matthew would be sure to notice if he had. Her thoughts raced faster. Likelihoods and next steps going round and round in her mind. Worst-case scenarios screaming out at her, her pessimistic nature betraying her hopes.

Absent-mindedly, she turned her wedding ring with her thumb, just as her thoughts turned around her mind. It was a habit she’d had since she was small: a tiny fidget of her sleeves or necklace or earring when she felt nervous. The pad of her thumb hit her diamond and, unbidden, a distant memory of her mother gently placing her soft gloved hand on Mary’s came to mind. She remembered how Mama grasped her twiddling fingers in their carriage, her mother’s own wedding bands pressing against her little fingers, stilling them.

Mary took a deep breath in and calmed her nerves. The fidgeting stopped.

The worst of it was over, she reminded herself. Well. The worst of it was nearly over. There was a sense of control in knowing what to do next. And she needed the feel of control.

She heard her bedroom door sweep across her carpet and she closed her eyes, knowing it was Anna to ready her for dinner. She’d collect herself for her maid. It wasn’t that she couldn’t confide in her, but Anna was so happy just now, with Bates home again and now the cottage. She wouldn’t dare let her fear cast a shadow. No. Everything would be fine.

“May I come in?”

But it wasn’t Anna’s voice who called.

Mary looked up into her dressing mirror to see her mother’s familiar reflection. Her dark head angled around the door.

And Mary rolled her eyes. Of course. She should’ve known. Mama had given her that look in the library downstairs, the look Mary knew too well. Mama’s knowing, sympathetic pout of a smile, the darkening of her bright eyes.

She slowly turned to her mother. She hadn’t waited for an invitation as she shut the door behind her.

“How are you feeling?”

Mary lifted her brows. “Fine. How should I be?” She turned back to the vanity and busied her hands.

But Mama now came to stand beside her. “Mary. I’m your mother. I know when when something is amiss.”

“Really?” The word came out sharp and less teasing than she’d meant. “Well, I’m not pregnant, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

Mama stayed quiet. And Mary felt a weight grow upon her chest. She hadn’t deserved that.

“I’m sorry.” She looked down at her ring. It sparkled up at her. “The truth is, I’ve seen a doctor. In London. Like you suggested.”

“Oh? And what did he say?”

She couldn’t say more aloud. Mary turned her eyes slowly to her mother standing there, and tried to tell her as best she could. No sound would emerge.

Mama, though, took a breath in through her nose, and sat on the seat beside her. “I see. So he’s discovered something.”

Mary let her eyes retreat, but she nodded. “Apparently there’s something … wrong … with my —“ again, no sound. “Honestly, I can’t bring myself to say it.”

“You needn’t try,” Mama’s voice was soft and lilting. “I’ve had plenty of practice skirting medical details with your papa.”

Mary smiled, gratefully. “Well, it apparently means a small operation. To mend the … blockage.” Her thumb returned to her rings, and she spun them. “I’ve arranged it for next week. Tuesday. I’ll stay overnight.” She saw Mama nod. And then, it slipped: “To be honest, I feel quite nervous.”

“Oh,” Mama’s coo wrapped her up tightly and warmly. “The procedure is quite quick. And it’s for a rather good cause?”

Mary exhaled. “Yes.”

“Would you like me to come with you?”

But Mary shook her head. “No. No need to raise suspicions.”

She felt her mother’s head tip toward her. “We don’t have to tell your father.”

“No.” Mary repeated. She closed her eyes. “It’s that I can’t bear to tell Matthew. I suppose you think it very wrong of me, but I simply cannot find the words to say it.”

Mama’s soft fingers grasped at Mary’s, stilling the fidgeting. Her heart returned to its normal rhythm.

She looked at her mother. The blues of her eyes did not look at all shocked or judgmental or even the least bit unnerved. And looking into them made Mary feel as if the weight from earlier lifted from her chest.

“Then don’t tell him. Not yet.”

“But doesn’t he deserve to know?”

Her mother’s grin tickled one corner of her mouth. “If he’s anything like your father, it’ll worry him endlessly. Believe me. If you feel you should tell him, it’s better to tell him afterward, when everything is put in order. Though your father never knew at all. I found no need to upset him.”

Mary saw the sense in that, and gave a small smile.

“Who is the doctor? Is it Doctor Ryder?”

“Yes,” Mary let a small laugh escape. “Actually, I gave him your maiden name as my own.”

She was somewhat surprised when Mama laughed. “He must be used to that.”

She looked again at Mama’s face. “Do you think it will work?”

“It worked for me,” Mama shrugged a shoulder. “Once he removed the scarring from Sybil’s birth, I fell pregnant eventually.” She paused a beat. “It took a year, and then of course it —“ Mama stopped. “But. That wasn’t the doctor’s fault.”

Mary felt her face flush hotly, and she looked down at her lap. She hadn’t appreciated the pain of it then, years ago. She’d been too wrapped up in her own world. But now? She gently squeezed her mother’s thumb.

“He does seem quite experienced.”

Her mother’s face blossomed into a smile. “Yes. And very nice.”

Mary let her eyes move back to her mother’s and she saw, perhaps for the first time, a similarity between the two of them. And suddenly everything hurt.

“Oh, Mama. What if it doesn’t work? Who knows who the next heir is.” She looked at her dressing table, the necklace and hair pins lying on the top. The glass jewelry dish twinkled in the afternoon light. “After everything we’ve been through, with the war and Lavinia. For it to be my fault we lose Downton —“

Mama returned the gentle squeeze from before. “Of course you’re worried, but darling, none of this is your fault. If anything, you’re being very brave about it all, taking steps, facing your fears.” Mama leaned closer. “And there’s something else …” Mary looked up at her soft pause. Mama was smiling. Gently, gently smiling up at her. “… You and Matthew love one another. Yes?”

Mary blushed again. “Yes.”

Mama shook her head, happily. “I’ve always found that love helps a great deal, especially where babies are concerned.”

Mary sighed. “Oh, Mama.” Mama, who had had three daughters. Mama, who had lost a daughter only months before. Mama, who had called her brave, but seemed suddenly to be the braver of the two of them. Braver than Mary ever really knew.

“You couldn't be in better hands than Doctor Ryder's. Truly.” Mama’s voice was so sure, and Mary needed that. She needed to be sure.

“I hope to God you're right.” And she meant it.

“Anna's worried you're getting late.”

Mary startled at Matthew’s voice. She hadn’t even heard him come in.

“Heavens. You made me jump.” She took one last glance at Mama, who squeezed her hand, and then let go.

“I must go. O’Brien will scold me.”

Mary watched her mother leave in her dressing mirror, and then felt as Matthew sat down beside her.

“What were you talking about?” he asked.

But Mary lifted her chin. “Nothing,” she lied. The feel of Mama’s hand lingered on her own, and Mary smiled. “Women's stuff.”

[crystalgirl259]

The Flame and the Dragon Chapter 36

Chapter 36: Let Him Go

The next morning, Kai wasn't sure whether to be relieved or disappointed that Cole was still holding him. The chill of his nightmares was still in his system and as long as they were with nothing to confirm or disprove them, any emotion other than worry made Kai sick with guilt. Carefully he unwound himself from Cole's arms and tail and sat with his feet dangling over the side of the bed. The bedsheet wrapped around his shivering frame.

"Are you still thinking about those nightmares?" A voice suddenly asked and Kai jumped and whirled around. Cole hadn't moved from the spot he was lying in but met the teen with an expression that read Kai's thoughts like they were the opened pages of a picture book.

"When did you wake up?"

"The second you started moving," He answered and positioned himself so he was next to his consort. "You're still thinking about those nightmares aren't you?" He asked, but in his mouth, it was a statement not a question and Kai knew it. Kai confirmed his suspicions with a nod.

"I just wish I knew how they were doing; I know they'd both love it here, just like I do." He smiled warmly as he thought about his family living here with him and Cole. Lloyd would be ecstatic to have a whole castle to explore. Kai knew Nya would love the architecture. Kai chuckled at the thought then sighed. "But I have no idea what's happening to them if I could make sure they were alright." He sighed as his voice trailed off. He turned baffled when he felt Cole take his hand.

Cole's eyes suddenly lit up with pride like a child who couldn't wait to share their accomplishment with their parents.

"I know how to do that." He smiled before he hopped off the bed and scooped up a handful of clothes. Harumi must have placed there while they were asleep. "Get dressed." He ordered and Kai obeyed. Once they had donned Griffin's latest creations, which were surprisingly simple compared to the other clothing he had created for them not a few nights ago, Cole took Kai's hand and brought him towards the far side of the room. The magic mirror Cole sometimes used sat peacefully on its pedestal glittering in the morning sun seeping through the cracks in the curtains.

Cole cupped it in his hands, his face beaming, looking like a child with a secret. He then picked up the mirror and placed it in Kai's hands.

"If you ask this mirror anything that you'd like it will show you anything, anything you wish to see; I can't leave this castle so this is my only window out."

"It does that? How?" He asked as his eyes widened.

"I'm not sure how, but my mother always said it was special."

"And how do you know it works?" Kai asked the dragon hybrid, his voice skeptical. A flash of guilt lit across Cole's eyes for a moment. He cleared his throat and muster as much dignity as he could.

"I used it to check up on you during your first month here." He admitted and Kai felt his veins bulge at that information.

"You used it to spy on me?"

"Only temporarily!" Cole protested, defensively and quickly changed the subject to avoid another spat. "Do you want to use it or not?" He asked and Kai stared at the object skeptically. It wasn't like he had anything to lose.

"I'd like to see my siblings, Nya and Lloyd." He told the mirror. He watched as his reflection was swallowed by a sapphire mist that made him feel light and safe. Suddenly the mist in the mirror's glass changed from light blue to dark red. Lights in the red smoke spun in a hazy, milky spiral. Kai's eyes widened as shapes and shadows started to form. He felt Cole at his side, no doubt feeling that Kai would need support after witnessing this. Colors and images began to become clear.

Kai recognized the interior of his home and the figures that began to form until Kai recognized the figure of Nya.

Except it wasn't the Nya he knew. This Nya was wild with distress, her hair and clothing haggard like she hadn't slept. Her once beautiful eyes were filled with anger and fear, red-rimmed from tears, and clouded by heavy black bags of insomnia. The image suddenly changed and he watched as Nya and Lloyd crawled their way out of a small cave. Lloyd was coughing and wheezing and holding his mouth to keep himself silent. Horror and fear froze Kai in place as he watched Nya struggle on weak arms to pull him up, only to stumble, and both roll to the ground.

Sickness running deep into their bodies rendered them unable to properly move.

Lloyd suddenly collapsed to the ground, coughing loudly and rasping. It didn't even sound like coughing. It sounded like Lloyd was choking on air. He squeezed his chest like doing so would loosen the constriction of his throat and help him breathe. Nya try to help, but she was too weak to do anything. Tears of anguish streamed down their faces. Lloyd's eyes were wet with the pain of his illness and the terror of his situation. It took Kai all but a few moments to register what they were doing and why, and he brought his voice horrifyingly back to life with a scream.

Cole remained frozen while Kai screamed.

"This is all my fault!" The brunette shrieked, forcing Cole back to reality.

"What?" He gasped in horror, hearing his consort take the blame for what he knew was the hybrid's mistake.

"You don't understand!" Kai turned to him with a face full of terror and eyes bright and wild from dread, the mirror clutched in his shaking hands. "Lloyd's sick! He can't get sick in the winter! He can't handle it with his chest!" He sobbed as a lone tear fell from each eye and began pooling at his chin. "This is all my fault! I promised when my parents died that I'd take care of them! I'm here living a fairytale while Lloyd's dying and it's all my fault!"

Cole just watched Kai have a fit of his own.

He threw his hands over his head and screamed while he shook it back and forth with such force it was a miracle he didn't break his neck. A new dread froze Cole's being to the core. His eyes fell to the candle at the other side of the room. Its light dimmed as it counted down to the end of the month. The candle was now under ten centimeters in length and the flame was extremely dull. It was unlikely to continue burning in the next few days and once the purple flame went out, his fate would be sealed.

Now, for the first time in his life, Cole had a choice.

He was well aware of his feelings and Kai's. All he needed was time, and he did not doubt between now and then that Kai would eventually say those words that would once again make him human. His staff would be free, and Kai could stay with him, rule by his side, and together they could return his castle to all its magnificent glory. The only price would be the removal of the only two people Kai could love more than him. Or he could set him free, send Kai back to his old life with his family who loved him, safe and free.

Let his siblings be saved and return their lost brother to them, and let them return to their peaceful lives before he meddled in it with his selfish desires and wishes.

He knew the chances of Kai returning before the needed time were slim. The chances of him saying what needed to be said were even slimmer. Both choices brought life and death, brought hope and despair, but only one truly promised Kai's happiness. The choice was clear.

"Then what are you waiting for? Get Flame and go after them." He ordered and Kai's entire world shifted at Cole's words.

"What?" He asked in a whisper and Cole offered a sad smile, his eyes shadowed by rave bangs. "Your brother and sister need you, Kai, you have to be there for them now; I can't leave the castle grounds but you can," he explained and the truth in Cole's words crashed against the realization that he had the option, rendered Kai incapable of speech.

"But what about our deal?" Kai choked, barely whispering that last part. His face fell to the ground unable to meet Cole's face. The Dragon Lord didn't give him the luxury and knelt on one knee so he was looking up at him.

"I told you, you aren't a prisoner anymore, I've never thought of you as one, and if memory serves, I freed you less than a week ago; so you're free to come and go as you like." He chuckled lightly and tears poured from Kai's cheeks. Before Cole could wipe them away, Kai threw himself into his arms and wrapped them tightly around Cole's neck and shoulders, and buried his tearful face into his chest.

"Thank you, Cole." Kai sobbed as he poured all of his happiness, love, and gratitude into those three words. He was thankful to Cole for loving him enough to let him go. Cole returned the gesture, holding Kai tight like the brunette would vanish if he didn't. He barely felt it when Kai pulled away from him and rubbed his eyes with his sleeve.

"I'll come back; once Lloyd and Nya are better, all three of us will come," Kai promised with hopeful eyes, so much so that Cole wisely kept quiet.

"I know you will," He nodded. Kai rushed to leave then stopped when he realized the mirror was still in his hand. Quickly, he turned around, motioning to return it, but Cole only smiled and curled Kai's fingers over the box. "I want you to keep it."

"I can't keep this!" Kai immediately protested.

"I'm giving it to you so that way you'll always have these to remember me by." He smiled as his claw tapped the heart-shaped ruby jewel of the chocker still clasped around Kai's throat. He had forgotten he was wearing it and dared not take it off. Kai nodded graciously. Words could not express his gratitude.

"I will come back," He promised again before he turned and gave Cole one final smile before bursting from the room and down the hallway. Only when he was alone, did Cole finally collapse against the table with such force that the glass screamed its protest against his weight. A clawed hand gripped his dark locks. The silent tears pricking his eyes were all he could do to keep from completely breaking down. Part of him still screamed to run down the hallway take Kai in his arms and beg him not to go.

He steadied himself to do just that.

But his mind burst with the memory of the sick little boy Kai loved so much crying out for him. A lone tear streaked down Cole's scaled cheek. At that moment, Ronin entered the room. He had passed Kai running down the half, but he just assumed that the brunette didn't want to be caught sleeping in the same bed as Cole again. If that did happen, Kai would probably be teased by some of the least mature staff members. Ronin wasn't ashamed to admit that he might be in that group.

When he entered the bedroom, however, he was a little confused to see the sorrowful Cole and to feel the depressing tension in the room.

But the troll decided to shrug it off. He thought they might have just crashed from the excitement from last night.

"Well, well, your highness, I must say everything is going just right! I knew you had it in you!" He cackled loudly, but Cole didn't even glance at him.

"I told him to go home." He said with little to no emotion in his voice. Ronin stopped in mid-sentence as he realized what the dragon hybrid just said.

"You WHAT?! How could you do that?!"

"I had to."

"Yes-yes-yes, but why?!"

"Kai's little brother is ill and he and his sister are lost in the blizzard, and they need his help, so I let him go because I love him." Cole declared and Ronin stared at the calm, expressionless, yet teary-eyed face of the Dragon Lord. He stared for a few moments before he ran off to tell the others that they could kiss any hope of being human goodbye. Almost all the staff were finishing cleaning up and preparing breakfast. The darkening clouds outside alerted the entire staff of the approaching blizzard that was practically at their door.

Jay was peeking through the curtains.

At the table, Tox was quick at work, gathering whatever Shade was cooking onto a tray for Kai and Cole. No one had disturbed the pair because the not so innocent minded members of staff thought it would be best to leave them alone. They couldn't stay in bed forever, though. Echo made to go upstairs, only for the door to slam into his face when someone opened it from the other side. All eyes rose and blinked when they spied Kai standing there panting and flushed like he had been running.

His eyes clouded with panic and rimmed with red like he had been crying for hours.

"What the hell happened to you?" Shade gaped, lowering the flames of the hearth. He hadn't failed to take in Kai's haggard appearance and immediately his thoughts became dark. "Where is Cole?" he demanded darkly. The phrase sent a silent child of dread through the staff, horrified at the thought of their Master being the cause of the boy's distress.

"He's upstairs," Kai spoke quickly. He rushed to sprint to his room before anyone could stop him. Before anyone could say anything, Ronin suddenly ran into the room and gave his friends a devastating look. Regretfully, he told them what Cole had said to Kai and their reactions were what was expected.

"He did what?!" They all screamed in horror and despair. Ronin slumped back while the others crowded around him. Judging from the sorrow in Kai's apologetic eyes and his limbs twitching with hastiness, they knew there was more to it than that, and that nothing was fine. They could already hear the thunder of Kai's steps as he finished gathering his things before running to the stables to get Flame. Harumi couldn't believe that this was happening.

Ultra Violet collapsed in a chair gazing at the ground as if she were a frozen doll.

They didn't want to let Kai leave. He didn't know about the deadline. They wanted to tell him but they knew they couldn't. Pixal reminded them that Kai had to figure it out himself. The banter continued, screaming and curses, ideas and arguments and protests and no one said anything that hadn't already been said. No one noticed the youngest and smallest of their group slip away unknown amongst the chaos.

"I'm afraid it's true." The troll sighed sadly.

"Kai's going away?" Echo whimpered as tears welled up in his eyes.

"But they were so close!" Harumi shrieked and everyone couldn't help but agree. After all this time, Cole had finally learned to love and their curse was so close to being broken. Now all that hope and hard work were down the drain. Jay suddenly gasped when he came up with a last-minute idea.

"That's it, then! That should break the spell!" He grinned like a madman, but no one was convinced.

"But it's not enough, Kai has to love him in return," Zane told his friend.

"But he does! Everyone can see that!" Ultra Violet exclaimed and Zane gave her a cold look.

"Do you though? Has Kai ever actually said that he loves Cole?" He asked them and they all thought about it, but none of them could recall a time Kai ever told Cole that he loved the Dragon Lord. "No, he didn't, and now it's too late," Zane explained and everyone slumped in grief and despair. Back upstairs, Cole watched as Kai left on his horse from above on his bedroom balcony. He roared in sorrow and anger but his anguished roars were lost in the sound of the violent, icy winds...

[aestheticallyholland]

NEVER NOT | AFTER YEARS . . .

❃ PAIRING tom holland x fem!reader

❃ DISCLAIMER i do not own the artists (and the reader) that are going to portray the characters, but i do own some of the their names. the plot of the story is inspired to the book and movie 'to all the boys i've loved before' but with changes. the gifs and photos used in this series are edited by me but i get credits to the originals. also, this series is first posted in wattpad by me. PLEASE DO NOT REPOST IT SOMEWHERE ELSE !

❃ WORD COUNT 2.8k words

❃ AUTHOR'S NOTES you have reached the final chapter of my tom holland series, never not! for those who have reached this part, i would like to say thank you so much for taking your time to read this cliche story that i wrote originally on wattpad, and hopefully, you enjoyed and loved it. thank you also for the constant reblogs and likes for each chapter in this series. i truly appreciate every reblog and like you gave. i also hope that you are satisfied with the ending of this series. with lots of love, lei <3

NEVER NOT MASTERPOST | LEI'S LIBRARY

"All love stories are tales of beginnings. When we talk about falling in love, we go to the beginning, to pinpoint the moment of freefall." - Meghan O'Rourke

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

"ONE MORE POSE FOR ME!"

Flash.

"And another one!"

Flash.

"Alright!" Y/N exclaimed and removed her Canon 90D DSLR camera from her right eye. "That's it for today, guys! Great job everyone!" shouted once more and looked at the photos that she took from the monitor of the computer.

She was doing a photoshoot for one of the famous magazine companies, The Hollywood Reporter. She was one of the photographers for the magazine company for almost a year already. She surely was so happy to receive a call way back a year ago before that she was hired. And, she surely was so happy to pursue what she dreamed of.

"Great shots, Y/N. Great as always." Someone said from behind her and Y/N could just smile at the compliment.

"Thank you, Millie." She said and looked at Camille. Camille became a fashion designer like how she always wanted to be. She worked alongside Y/N in several photoshoots just this year, coincidentally.

"Want to grab some coffee on the way home?" Camille asked as she prepared her purse and placed it on her shoulder.

"Sure," Y/N said and got the hard drive that was plugged into the computer since all of the photos were there. Not only was she a photographer but also one of the editors for the magazines. "But after that, I gotta go somewhere."

"Are you gonna go to that place again?" Camille asked and Y/N looked at her and nodded as an answer. They walked out together as they were the only people left there.

"I'll probably call Erika after you go. Just gonna remind her about the reunion that our family had planned for this weekend." Camille said while walking beside Y/N.

"But she'll probably be with Harrison right now," Y/N said.

"They're still together all these years? Never knew she was a relationship person honestly." Camille said.

"Me either. But, she's happy so I'm happy for her." Y/N said.

They entered the coffeehouse that was packed with busy people. The scent of coffee went to their noses as soon as they got in.

"I totally forgot that it's still Friday today," Camille said. "So many people."

They lined up in the long line since there was only one cashier available.

"By the way, have you seen the latest movie?" Camille asked Y/N and she gave a confused look.

"Which one?" Y/N asked back.

"I think it was the— erm— The latest Spiderman movie. I don't know the full title but I heard they just released a new one this month." Camille said. "Tom is in it right?"

Tom.

That name that Y/N will never forget.

Y/N smiled under her breath before answering her. "Yeah, I guess."

After that, they just waited for the line to be shorter and shorter until they were the next one to order. After they ordered, they stood in the corner waiting for their coffee to be made.

"One cappuccino and latte for Y/N!"

"I'll get it," Camille said and walked fast to get their orders. She mouthed thank you to the lady and went to Y/N's side again. "Here's your cappuccino," Camille said and handed Y/N her drink as they made their way out of the coffeehouse.

"So, I'll see you on Monday at work?" Camille asked.

"Always." That was what Y/N answered. "Take care!" She added before waving goodbye to Camille and went in the opposite direction as her with her drink in her hand.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Y/N parked her car on the side of the empty road. After how many months, almost a year, of driving lessons, she could finally drive for herself.

Before she got out, she got her drink and her other things first and removed her coat. She got out of the car with her things and shut the door and locked it.

The wind suddenly blew her hair and she smiled at this great feeling. As she walked towards the sand, she took off her shoes and placed them in the same spot that she would sit on. Luckily, no one was in the place other than herself.

The sun was almost setting and the waves were still moving in the ocean. She had come to this place almost every day or at least most of the time. The light of the sun reflected on the sun symbol on her bracelet that he gave her a few years back. She sighed at the thought of him.

She had lost contact with him just almost a year ago because of his busy schedule but Harrison would be the one to tell her how Tom was doing and all. Well, not really lost contact but they rarely contacted each other for the past few months due to their work.

Although those had happened, she never stopped going back to this place that Tom wanted her to always go. This was the place that kept her alive and stress-free.

Their relationship had its ups and downs.

Tom became one of the most famous celebrities in the world ever since he got the role of being Spiderman. After that, he had more upcoming movies for the past years later on.

Although there may have been rumors about him being in a relationship with one of his co-stars, Zendaya, because of their roles in Spider-Man, her trust for him remain. Although at some point, it hurt her but that just passed away.

Overall, she was happy for him and for what he has achieved. She was so proud of what he had become. It didn't stop her from visiting his family's house and spending time with them.

"I wish you were here right now." She whispered to herself as the wind could not stop making her hair fly.

"And I'm here." A voice said from a distance but loud enough for her to hear. Her eyes widen at this very familiar voice and her eyes began to water.

She slowly looked in the direction of the voice that she heard and there stood the person that she has been waiting for.

He gave her the same smile that she would never forget. He still looked the same as before but he was more muscular now. He looked better in person than on the big screen or in his interviews. His brown hair is now shorter but still had curls on.

"Tom?" She whispered and he could just easily read her lips calling his name. He opened his arms widely for her. She then ran up to his open arms and did not think twice about wrapping her arms around him. He spun her around as soon as he closed his arms around her.

Her tears fell from her eyes while hugging him. When Tom heard her sob, he placed a hand on her head and stroked her hair. "I'm home, love." He whispered to her.

She pulled away for a while and admired him. His face features, his hair. Everything about him. She suddenly pinched his cheeks with both of her hands that surprised Tom.

"Ow! What was that for?" He asked as he felt the slight pain from the pinch. His voice is deeper than before and his British accent is kind of mixed with an American accent.

"You are real," Y/N said that made Tom chuckle.

She was still as adorable as always. Tom thought

"Of course I am. You thought you're hallucinating?" Tom asked her and she nodded.

"It's been so long to finally see you personally," Y/N said and she slapped him on the chest. "You kept me waiting you know!"

"I'm sorry, love." Tom apologized and kissed her forehead. "Four years, huh?"

"And three months," Y/N added while looking at him and grinned.

"You have been counting," Tom said that made Y/N nod. "I missed you so much." He said and pulled her for a hug again. "God, I do miss you."

"I missed you too, Thomas." She replied and noticed the scrunchie that was on his wrist. The same scrunchie that she gave him before. "You kept it." She said and held to his wrist where the scrunchie was and smiled at him.

"Of course. It really reminded me of you." He answered.

They decided to sit down and talked about each other's new life. Tom was surprised about Y/N's career since he never thought she would be into photography like his brother, Harry.

"Your mom really influenced me to go to that," Y/N said. "That's why I'm so grateful for her."

"I had a photoshoot in that company actually," Tom said and that made her eyes widen. "Really?" She asked.

"Yeah, but that was like two thousand seventeen or something." He answered.

"Your American accent is really showing up," Y/N said and smiled at him.

"Well, most of my roles required this accent which I'm good at, surprisingly." He answered.

"How long have you been here already?" She asked him, curiously.

"Just today. I told my family first and Harrison that I was coming back for a week's vacation. And, I wanted to surprise you." He answered and placed his arms around her shoulders. She placed her head on his shoulder and gave a relieved sigh. Her happiness cannot be measured right now.

"You wanna go to the water?" Tom said and Y/N suddenly ran away from him and giggled.

"If you could catch me first!" Y/N said and ran which made Tom scoffed a laugh.

"I will!" Tom said and chased after her. After a few seconds of running, Tom was a few inches away from her and scooped her legs and carried her bridal style and he walked towards the water.

"No! Put me down! The water is gonna be so cold!" Y/N said but Tom ignored her and laughed. Then, Y/N wrapped her arms around his neck and forcefully pushed both of them down together to the water.

"Holy shit, the water is so cold," Y/N said as she raised her head up from the water as well as Tom. "Damn you, Holland!"

"You're gonna pay for that," Tom said and splashed her with water and Y/N did the same. Basically, the couple had a water fight. They kept laughing and splashing on the water to each other even as they stood up.

Tom then grabbed Y/N's arm and pulled her closer to him. They both wrapped their arms around each other and Y/N just gave a light laugh.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

"Do you have a towel in your car?" Tom asked as they got out of the water, their bodies and clothes soaking wet as they stayed there a while ago to watch the sunset.

"Yep. It's on the back. I came prepared." Y/N said as she gave Tom the keys and walked towards her car. Tom could just laugh.

Tom got the towel and wrapped it around Y/N's body and continued to hug her from behind. They decided to stay on the beach a little longer until they dried up. After a few minutes, they then went inside the car with Tom as a driver although Y/N insisted that she would drive.

They went directly to Y/N's apartment that she rented ever since she got her work. Tom parked in the basement of the building. As soon as they got out, Tom locked the cars and gave Y/N back her keys. They walked together and got to an elevator going to her apartment.

"How's your dad and Aria?" Tom asked as Y/N shoved the key on the doorknob.

"They are doing great actually," Y/N answered. "Aria got a job in New Zealand in tourism. And, will you believe that my dad actually got married a year ago?" Y/N said happily and opened the door.

"Really? I never heard of that." Tom said.

"Because we made it a private wedding so it's only our relatives and Mom Trina's family too," Y/N explained to Tom. "Mom Trina is an amazing woman and I'm glad they got to meet each other."

"Your mom will be happy that your dad is happy," Tom said and Y/N could only smile.

She placed her things down the counter table. "This is my home." She said to Tom who was looking everywhere in the apartment. "It's not that bad." He said.

"Yep. In my room, I get to see the city and the sunset and sunrise too." While Y/N was talking. Tom just kept staring at her, admiring her. He couldn't explain how happy he felt when he finally saw her again. He walked closer to her and wrapped his arms around her from behind. This startled Y/N a bit but she held his arms and leaned her back to his chest.

"How did I get so lucky to have you?" Tom whispered and moved her hair away and gave a peck on her neck.

"Destiny, I guess." She answered and turned around to face him. She saw him looked at her lips and decided to close the gap between them by pressing her lips to his. Tom responded to the kiss and pulled her closer to him. As soon as the kiss became heated, she jumped and wrapped her legs around Tom's waist and he was carrying her. He then walked towards her room and shut the room by kicking his foot at the door while kissing and carrying her.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

The ray of light hit Y/N's eyes as soon as she woke up. She felt strong arms around her bare waist and she smiled. She yawned and stretched her legs before she tried to move Tom's arm around her. She could still hear his soft snores beside her. His curls are really showing off when his head was on the pillow. She tried to get up but was stopped when she felt a hand grabbing her wrist and pulling her back to the bed. Strong arms wrapped around her again but this time tighter.

"Tom!" She exclaimed.

"Don't leave me here," Tom mumbled while his eyes were still closed and snuggled his head to her neck which tickled a little.

"Alright, baby," Y/N said and snuggled back at him. "But I have to cook breakfast. It's like almost lunch already."

"That was a long long night." Tom teased and Y/N felt her cheeks heat up as she remembered what happened last night. She slapped Tom's arm playfully who just laughed at her. "Let's do it again," Tom whispered in her ear with a husky voice and attempted to kiss her again but Y/N covered his mouth with her hand.

"Nope, nope. Not happening." Y/N said as she shoved his arms away from her and stood up with the blanket wrapped around her. "You better go and shower, Holland!" She exclaimed as she exited her room.

"Join me, then!"

"Shut it, Thomas!"

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

"Alright, we're on our way now, mum," Tom said through his phone as he drove in the road. "Love you too. Bye." He ended the call and placed his phone down. His eyes focusing on the road.

"What did she say?" Y/N asked.

"Harrison and Erika are already there and there done preparing." He answered and she just nodded as an answer. He glanced at her and smiled, taking her nearest hand and intertwining their fingers together. Y/N looked at him and smiled back. Tom decided to stop driving for a while which made Y/N confused. He parked the car on the side of the road.

"What's wrong?" Y/N asked, concerned.

"I just..." Tom paused for a while. "I'm just so happy that I got to see you again," Tom said and looked at her deep in her eyes.

Y/N placed a hand on his cheek and smiled. "Me too, Tom." She said.

"I'll take you with me once my vacation is over," Tom said and her eyes widen.

"But I have work—"

"I already talked to your manager and he's fine with it. He's gonna give you a break for a while." Tom said.

"How is that even possible?" She asked and giggled.

"Secret," Tom said and grinned. "I want you to see my work and some of the co-stars want to meet you."

"Seriously?" Y/N asked. "You talked about me to them?"

"Yep." Tom answered, emphasizing the 'p'. "Even the Avenger cast wants to meet you."

"Alright, then. I'll get to see celebrities." Y/N squealed and smiled at him. "At least I get to see my boyfriend work. This is exciting."

Tom placed a hand on her nape and pulled her head closer for him to kiss your forehead and lips.

"I love you, my love." He said. "You are my world and my everything."

Oh, how lucky they were for each other.

"I love you, too, Tom."

Always.

Forever.

Fin.

❝ WE WERE SO BEAUTIFUL

WE WERE SO TRAGIC

NO OTHER MAGIC

COULD EVER COMPARE ❞

❃ ANOTHER AUTHOR'S NOTE to add, feel free to also comment or reblog how this series was. i would lovre to read your thoughts and feelings about this series. once again, thank you for reading NEVER NOT, by yours truly 🦋

❃ TAGLIST @allthisfortommy @kait4073 @lovebittenbyevans @l0ve-0f-my-life @spiitfiires @robertpattinson-th @jackiehollanderr @butterflies-glitter

[baepsaesbae]

Heal Me, Kill Me Ch.3

Pairing— Kim Taehyung x reader

Genre— Vampire! Tae x Vampire Hunter! y/n, ANGST, Smut +18, fluff

Warnings— Oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, being tied up, Dom!Taehyung, ass eating

Word Count— 6.6k

Summary— You’re one of the best vampire hunters in the world. That’s to be expected when your parents are the best of the best. Your life had solely revolved around ruthlessly killing vampires. You were essentially a cold blooded machine. However, things take a turn once you meet Kim Taehyung, your latest target.

“When will I see you next, dear?” Taehyung asked as he walked you back to your car.

“When would you wanna see me?” you replied.

“Honestly, I’d never want you to leave. I’d selfishly keep you all to myself,” Taehyung lightly pinned you against your car door. 

“Maybe one day you could,” you say, wrapping your arms around him.

Taehyung planted soft kisses on both of your cheeks. You pulled him in for a deep kiss right as he began to step away. One hand cupped his cheek while the other got lost in the tresses of his long dark hair. Taehyung reciprocated your neediness as he roughly grabbed your ass. 

“I still need to repay you for the other day,” he seductively whispered.

“I’ll remember that for the next time,” you winked, “Meet at the flower shop tomorrow?”

“Sounds like a plan,” Taehyung gave you a final goodbye kiss.

The drive back was awful. You were torn. Torn between duty and passion. It was your duty to kill Taehyung, but your newfound empathy kept you from doing so. Even when Taehyung was on the brink of death, you couldn’t commit to your plan. 

Telling yourself that you needed to know the truth behind your parents’ death was just an excuse. Of course you want to know the details of what happened, but that’s not what stopped you from killing Taehyung. 

You just...couldn’t. You didn’t want to. Maybe there could be a way to fake his death? It could create the perfect cover to run away together. Maybe he could live with you in secret. Well, he probably wouldn’t appreciate the fact that you kill his brethren for a living. 

You have a month before Yoongi contacts you again. He’d know something is up by then. You’ve never taken longer than a month on a mission. Thinking about all this gave you a headache. 

You decide to do the responsible thing. You’re going to enjoy the month you have with Taehyung and worry about all of your problems when you can no longer run from them. Aside from the moral dilemma of having to exterminate your boyfriend, you actually felt happy. It felt nice having someone by your side. 

You fantasized about seeing the world with Taehyung. You wanted him to teach you more about plants, cook for you, and maybe most importantly, love you. The concept of love had been completely foreign to you. However, being with Taehyung sparked something you’ve never quite felt before. Was it simply the mortifying ordeal of being truly known by someone else? Or was it the acceptance and appreciation for the real you? Maybe it was a combination of both.

You hopped into the shower before your thoughts became too philosophical. You set your phone’s speaker on full volume and sang along to your favorite songs. TWICE had the best songs to sing and dance to in the shower (dancing in the shower can be dangerous, but you like living life on the edge). 

Being emotionally exhausted allowed you to fall asleep quickly. You woke up the next day feeling refreshed after a much needed good night’s sleep. Pairing a black maxi dress with a knitted cardigan, you felt cute and comfy. 

Biking to the shop was a simplicity that you enjoyed. It was relaxing, the scenery was gorgeous, and the simple act of biking to work made you feel like a normal person. There was a new shipment of flowers that arrived, along with a fresh set of bouquet orders. 

‘To keep you busy while your target takes his time, thanks flower girl :)’ was scribbled on a note atop the orders.

You rolled your eyes, silently cursing Yoongi. Thank god Taehyung was coming today, you could put him to work. You began to fill up multiple vases with water and plant food, humming as you worked. 

“Good morning ___,” a deep voice sang out as soon as the door opened.

“Morning dear! You’re in a good mood today,” you spun around to greet him.

“Of course, because I get to see you! I see you’re prepping vases. Do we have more orders to fill?” he asked excitedly.

“Indeed we do! I’m glad you’re excited about it,” you handed him the stack of orders. 

You admire Taehyung’s sharp yet delicate features as he glossed through the orders. His mouth moved silently as he read the order descriptions to himself.

“Do you only take orders for funerals?” he asked when he finished.

“Huh?” you were taken by surprise.

“It just seems like all of the bouquet orders contain flowers that symbolize sympathy in some way. Lilies, carnations, and especially chrysanthemums. In most European cultures, chrysanthemums are only used for funerals,” he explained. 

“I have no idea what these bouquets are for. I, well I guess we, merely fulfill the orders,” you shift uncomfortably. 

Taehyung was remarkably sharp. You remembered that Yoongi said these flowers are for the families who have been victimized by vampires. 

“Ah, okay. I was just curious. Let’s get to work, love. Can you bring me pink carnations and lilies please?” he asked.

The day was filled with nonstop preparations. You tied decadent bows around the vases that were finished as Taehyung arranged the most beautiful bouquets you’ve ever seen. He shyly explained that he loved art in all forms, and bouquet making was its own special artform.

“I used to paint a lot as a hobby,” Taehyung admitted.

“Why’d you stop?” you asked.

“I had no more inspiration. No muse, I guess you could say,” he said sadly.

“Do you still have your paintings? I’d like to see them.”

“They’re hidden away somewhere in my house, but I’ll dig them back up for you. It might make me a little sad though. I miss painting.”

“Why don’t you pick it back up? It doesn’t matter if you have a muse or not, just paint whatever comes to mind,” you shrugged.

Taehyung looks at you, visibly amused, “What do you think I should paint?”

“A dick,” you deadpanned. 

“A what?” Taehyung was shocked.

“A penis,” you cracked a smile.

“___! You’re so vulgar,” Taehyung blushed.

“I’m just kidding! But just for the record, I think your dick is pretty enough to paint,” you smirked.

“You think so?” Taehyung’s voice lowered.

He reached over to cup your cheek before leaning in to give you a quick kiss. Feeling playful, you lightly bit his bottom lip as he pulls away. Taehyung’s eyes darkened as soon as you did that.

“Someone is feeling bold,” Taehyung tsked before pulling you into him.

Grabbing you by the ass, he hoists you up and sets you on the counter. He harshly kissed you as you wrapped your legs around his waist, begging him to get closer. Taehyung kissed up and down your neck, before harshly sucking on it. The sudden pain caused you to cry out and squirm, but Taehyung’s firm grip prevented your escape. Taehyung chuckled at your response.

“Don’t think you can get away with being cheeky with me, darling,” he cooed in your ear.

His hand slipped between your thighs, his cold fingers lightly inching closer to your core. 

“Taehyung…” your voice trailed off.

“Yes, darling? What do you need?” he teased.

“I need you to--”

The front door chimed, interrupting you. Taehyung dragged you off of the counter with inhuman speed, spinning you back to your spot with the bows. The quick force made you dizzy, but you were grateful for it. It would have been embarrassing for a customer to catch you in such a compromising position.

“Hello again dear,” a familiar voice called out to you. 

You turn to see elderly couple smiling at you from the front of the shop. The elderly woman was waving at you.

“Good morning! How are you two? Here for your roses again?” you politely welcomed them in.

Taehyung is smirking to himself as the conversation continued. You wanted to hit him for being so brazen. The elderly couple updated you on their bakery, saying that next time they’ll bring you fresh goods. You laughed and told them you would gladly trade flowers for their baked goods. 

“Who is that handsome boy over there? Is that your lover?” the elderly woman whispered to you. 

“Oh, I uh, I guess you could say that. That’s my boyfriend,” you blushed, suddenly becoming shy.

“Wow you hit the jackpot, girl,” the elderly man remarked, “That boy might very well be the most handsome young man I’ve ever seen in my life. Besides myself of course.”

The couple laughed and you couldn’t help but join in. Taehyung shyly looked over and respectfully bowed. You could tell he reverted back to his timid and stoic state. You had forgotten how standoffish he was around new people. 

The elderly couple happily left with their regular bouquet of roses. Taehyung’s tension melted away as soon as they left the store. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t introduce myself, they seemed sweet,” Taehyung apologized.

“Don’t worry about it. They’re the only customers I’ve ever had here. I guess the shop makes its money from all of these orders,” you resumed tying bows.

Taehyung’s smirk crept back onto his face as he snuck a glance at you.

“What?” you asked with annoyance. 

“Nothing.”

“Taehyung.”

“That’s me.”

“What are you smirking at?” you asked.

“Maybe you should look in a mirror,” he suggested. 

Horrified, you whipped out your phone. At first, you didn’t see anything out of the ordinary. There was nothing weird on your face. But then you saw it. A huge hickey was showcased in the middle of your neck. It was impossibly dark and its sheer size had you in awe. At first you were impressed, but then the dismay set in when you realized that the elderly couple must have seen it. No matter how blind they were, there was no way they could miss that. 

“Taehyung, you asshole!” you scolded him.

“Did you not enjoy receiving that?” he questioned.

“I did, but I didn’t want to show it off to my only customers!” you cried out.

“I’m sure they had their fair share of fooling around when they were younger,” Taehyung teased as he took your hand and pulled you closer, “Should we resume where we left off?”

“Can you remind me where we were?” you nipped at his ear. 

“Certainly,” he growled, hoisting you back onto the counter.

Planting kisses across your jawline, his hands spread your legs apart. Again his fingers flitter a trail in your inner thigh. Your neediness caused you to roughly press your lips against his while weaving your fingers in his hair.

His fingers grazed your clothed pussy, causing you to shudder. He lightly teased you, slowly rubbing your clit in a circular motion. 

“Faster,” you begged.

Taehyung obliged, picking up his speed. He applied more pressure, bringing you closer to the edge. Pulling aside your panties, his long fingers ran between your folds. You threw your head back in pure bliss.

He slowly inserted a finger into you, relishing your moans as he got deeper. You were so wet that he easily added a second finger. He took his time entering your pussy.

“You’re so warm, darling. And so wet. Is this all for me?” he gazed into your eyes.

“Yes, Taehyung. Oh mm,” was all you could say before trailing off into a moan when his pace picked up.

His fingers curled to hit your g spot with each pump. It was getting too intense, and your breaths became quick and shallow. You were right on the edge when Taehyung removed his fingers entirely. Your pussy clenched around nothing, and you whined at the sudden emptiness.

“Can I taste you, dear?” Taehyung asked.

You quickly nodded, desperate to get to your high. If Taehyung reduced you to this much of a mess with just his fingers, you could only imagine what his mouth could do. 

Taehyung buried himself under your dress, draping the fabric around his head. At first you couldn’t help but giggle. It looked a little silly, like he was hiding under your dress. Your giggle was replaced by a gasp when his tongue made contact.

He began lightly licking stripes through your folds, flicking your clit with his tongue each time. His tongue took its time exploring your intimate area, flattening out in order to gain the most coverage. 

His attention was then focused solely on your clit. He circled it with his tongue before gently sucking on it. The new sensation made you cry out even louder, but your voice hitched when he plunged two fingers back into you. 

The knot in your abdomen returned as your grip on Tae’s hair tightened. His free hand kept your legs spread open as you began to thrash around when your climax got closer. Taehyung was now moving his fingers at an inhuman pace, and his tongue was getting rougher on your clit. 

You let out a final cry as you release all over Taehyung, the intensity hitting you like a truck. You’ve never had an orgasm like this before. You were panting hard to catch your breath while Taehyung appeared from under your dress.

His face was glistening with your juices. He shot you a smug smile before wiping his face with the back of his hand. He seductively licked your essence off of his own hand. If you weren’t so spent, you would have immediately jumped on his dick after seeing that. 

“Did I satisfy you, ___?” Taehyung questioned.

“I believe so,” you exhale, “The evidence is all over your face. Wait, I think it’s on your forehead?” 

“Probably. I’m pretty sure you squirted. The inside of your dress is a mess,” Taehyung shrugged.

You hopped off the counter and sure enough, there was a puddle on the counter. Your dress was also a wet mess. A random passerby would have thought you wet yourself. You were flustered by the thought.

“I made quite the mess, huh,” you sighed.

“That’s my fault. Should I never repeat that mistake?” Taehyung playfully jabbed.

“I never said that,” you replied defensively, “But now I have to clean that up.”

“Can I help?” he offered.

“You can help by finishing the rest of the orders. I can take a few days off when all the orders have been fulfilled,” you suggested.

“A few days? Would you be free to spend those days with me?”

“What else would I do?”

Taehyung got back to work quickly. You chuckled at his diligence. To your surprise, Taehyung managed to complete the orders by the end of the day. He loaded up the cart by himself and hauled it over to the post office in record time. No doubt the postal workers were in awe at his sheer strength when they saw him single handedly bring drag the full cart. 

“So, are you free tomorrow?” Taehyung asked shyly when he returned.

“I think my schedule just cleared up. Why do you ask?” you played along.

“Would you like to come over and have a day on the lake with me? I can fish while you nap alongside me,” he suggested.

“Lemme think about it,” you pretended to mull it over, “I guess you convinced me. I’ll come over around 10? Or is that too early?”

“It’s never too early for you, darling. The best fishing happens around dawn anyway,” Taehyung replied.

“You want me to come around dawn?” your eyes widened.

“That would probably be too early huh? We can do something else instead then. Wanna be lazy and watch Netflix?”

“I thought you didn’t like technology,” you teased.

“I don’t. But I enjoy lounging around with you. And you got me hooked on Marco Polo.”

“Hell yeah I did. Just wait till you see Peaky Blinders!” you beamed enthusiastically.

“Can’t wait. I’ll see you tomorrow then?” he asked as you both stood outside the shop.

“Yes sir. It’s a date,” you nodded.

You found yourself waking up early the next morning, the excitement of seeing Taehyung made you restless. Was his hold over you that powerful? Or perhaps it was something else that had him never leaving your mind? Those questions swam in the back of your head as you picked out your outfit for the day. 

With your laptop bag in tow, you hopped into your car. It was around 8am by now. It was by no means the crack of dawn, however it was early enough for you to lull back to sleep if Taehyung really wanted to go fishing.

The sun was blocked by a thick wall of dark clouds, which was the normal weather in this area for some reason. Even without the sun shining down on you, a faint warmth hugged your body as you approached Taehyung’s house (and no, it wasn’t humidity). This feeling was new, and you couldn’t quite place it. It was as if the sheer buzz from your romantic feelings kept your cheeks warm 24/7. 

The front door swung open immediately after your first knock.

“___! Good morning, my darling. You’re here early,” Taehyung greeted you.

“I woke up early and decided it wouldn’t hurt to show up a bit earlier. Do you still wanna go fishing?” you asked.

“We can certainly try, if you’d like. We can have fish for lunch if I catch anything,” Taehyung pondered.

“I can potentially try more of your cooking? In that case, I definitely want to try,” you piped up.

Taehyung nodded in agreement. He helped you put your stuff away before disappearing to gather fishing supplies. In his absence, you blankly stared at the table where you tried to poison him just a few days prior. Was it a mistake to change your mind? If it was wrong to let him live, why did it feel so right to be with him?

“I got everything! Did you want to fish too? I only have one rod, but we can share,” Taehyung called out, snapping you away from your thoughts. 

“I’m fine with sharing. I’ll take a nap if I get bored,” you smiled at him.

You carried the fishing rod to the lake alongside Taehyung, much to his chagrin. He argued that he was more than capable of carrying everything by himself, but you claimed that you would feel useless if you didn’t help him. He let you carry the lightest item as a compromise. 

 Taehyung easily guided the little boat to the middle of the river. The shores were barely visible in all directions. It would be incredibly easy for either of you to dispose of the other. His back was turned to you as he cast off his line. A simple flick of your wrist and Taehyung’s head would be lost in the lake. Your body tensed up at the thought.

“Isn’t this scene so serene?” Taehyung broke the silence.

Your gaze moved from his back to the calm waters. It was indeed beautiful. Fog rolled along the surface of the lake, making it even harder to see the shoreline. Normally this would be perceived as eerie, but it was oddly romantic to you. 

Your body relaxed as you rest your head against Taehyung’s firm back. This predicament you were in was silly. Maybe if you came clean to Yoongi he’d support you. Afterall, he wanted you to have a normal life. Being with Taehyung for the last few weeks has made you feel like that kind of life was possible. 

“It’s beautiful, Taehyung. Like you,” you responded, hugging him from behind. 

“You think I’m beautiful?” he was amused.

“Of course I do. But so would anyone who’s ever seen you.”

“Your opinion is the only one that matters to me, ___. Thank you. You are the most stunning creature I have ever laid my eyes upon,” Taehyung happily hummed. 

“You’re too sweet. I feel so at peace right now. I think I’m gonna fall asleep,” you yawned.

“Go ahead, darling. This may take awhile,” Taehyung chuckled. 

You succumb to slumber almost instantly. It was an enjoyable nap until your dreams turned odd. You were enveloped in darkness, shivering. You gasped for air but to no avail as you struggled to breathe. 

“I wish I didn’t have to do this,” you heard a faint voice say.

“Tae? Taehyung are you there?” you cried out.

You abruptly woke up with a gasp, your sudden movement rocked the tiny boat.

“___? Are you okay?” Taehyung turned around to comfort you.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I guess I had a bad dream,” you replied.

“What did you dream about?”

“I’m not sure. It was weird. I couldn’t see anything, but I was extremely cold. And there was this voice. It kind of sounded like yours but I can’t really remember,” you shivered.

“Well, you’re okay now, darling. I’ll make sure no one can ever hurt you,” Taehyung reassured you, “Good news, I managed to catch 3 fish! They’re a pretty good size.”

Taehyung triumphantly showed you his catches. He was right. The fish were pretty sizable. You couldn’t wait to eat whatever he cooks up with them. 

You tried to shake off the uneasiness from your dream. Luckily, Taehyung distracted you on the way back. He started humming a tune, which soon turned into a song.

“I still wonder, wonder, beautiful story,” Taehyung sang aloud.

  His voice was captivating. You’ve never heard a voice so angelic before. His song calmed your nerves almost instantly. 

“I didn’t know you could sing. What can’t you do?” you asked in awe as you entered his home. 

“I just dabble in it. I have many hobbies. Like painting, as I mentioned before,” Taehyung admitted.

“You say you like to paint, but as soon as we have a painting date, you’re gonna reveal that you’re the next Monet or some shit,” you shook your head.

“I’m happy you hold me in such high regard, darling. I’ll admit that I’m a better cook than I am an artist,” he chuckled as he began prepping the kitchen.

“Oooh I can’t wait! Do you need any help?” you asked.

“No, I think I can handle it on my own darling. You just relax and keep me company, okay?” he made eye contact with you.

You smiled and complied with his request. You never grew tired of conversing with him. Before you knew it, the dish was complete. The fish were filleted in the most ornate manner, with a skill level on par with Gordon Ramsay. The taste was even more exquisite than the appearance. You’ve never foodgasmed before, but this dish just did you in. Taehyung gave you a boxy smile when you praised his food. 

The remainder of the month was filled with days similar to this one. As promised, you helped Taehyung tend to his garden as he gave you advice on how to not be a plant killer. One day, you surprised him with a painting date. You brought over small canvases and paints, only to find out that Taehyung has his own studio set up in one of the many rooms in his humble abode. Nonetheless, he was delighted by the surprise (turns out he also really was the next Monet, his paintings were incredible). 

You also began to spend the night at his place. You made it a habit to bring an extra set of clothes to leave in your car just in case. Taehyung even got you your own toothbrush to leave at his place (how romantic). 

Tonight marked the two month anniversary of you two meeting each other. Taehyung wanted to commemorate this day instead of the day you guys actually started dating. You thought it was odd, but you didn’t argue against it. 

He surprised you with an extravagant bouquet that he arranged himself. Dressed up in a suit and treated you to dinner at the fanciest restaurant in town. You dressed up too, the clothing was reminiscent of how you dressed on previous missions. 

You honestly forgot that you were on a job. You were too busy living out the life of your dreams. A normal one with the bonus of being in love with a gorgeous man who happened to love you back. The thought that your month of peace was nearly over crept up on you while you were getting ready. You pushed the thought away immediately. You still had time to live out your fantasy, even if it was fleeting. 

Your red velvet dress dipped scandalously low on your chest, and it hugged your curves promiscuously. Taehyung’s jaw dropped and transformed into a smirk as soon as he picked you up. 

The meal at the restaurant was good, but you both knew that Taehyung could cook a better one. But it was nice to go out for a change. You could feel eyes on you during the entire evening, but you weren’t sure if people were staring at you or your date. After all, your date’s appearance rivaled that of the gods.

“Did you enjoy your meal, darling?” Taehyung asked as the waitress took away the plates. You noticed that she took every opportunity she could to interact with him, such as filling up his water every time he would take a sip. You were going to say something, but decided against it since you couldn’t really blame her. 

“I did! I’m stuffed,” you huffed.

“Not yet.”

“Hm?”

“You’re not stuffed yet,” Taehyung repeated himself, then continued to lower his voice, “You look ravishing tonight. You’re always stunning, but tonight I don’t think I can control myself.”

“Who said I want you to?” you teased, leaning over to further expose your cleavage.

“Where the fuck is the check? We need to go immediately,” Taehyung flagged down the waitress.

Taehyung sped all the way back to his mansion. Every bump in the road caused you to squeeze your legs together, increasing your horniness. You tried to get Taehyung to put his hand on your thigh, but he refused. He claimed that if he touched you now, he’d have to take you then and there.

You couldn’t wait to get to your destination. You and Taehyung shared some sexual encounters, but he insisted on taking things slow. He did not want you to feel pressured to have sex with him (even though you made it clear that you truly wanted it). However, tonight was different. Taehyung would finally have his way with you, just like you’ve been wanting since you laid eyes on him.

He carried you bridal style all the way up to his room. He roughly threw you onto the bed, causing you to giggle.

“Get your giggles out now, love. I promise you, you won’t be laughing for the rest of the night,” Taehyung growled with a tone you haven’t heard before. 

You pulled him into bed with you, your lips locking into a passionate kiss. Hands began to wander as the kiss deepened. As tongues delved into foreign mouths, articles of clothing were being stripped off. You tossed off Taehyung’s suit jacket and began to unbutton his shirt. Taehyung grew impatient and ripped your dress in half. You whined in protest since you actually liked that dress, to which Taehyung laughed and promised to get you another. 

Now both in your underwear, Taehyung stopped to gaze at your nearly naked body. Your matching black lingerie made you look sinful, and Taehyung was ready to indulge. Your hand lightly grasped his bulge before it was swatted away. 

“Nuh uh, babygirl. You obey me. You are only to do what you’re told. Understand?” Taehyung scolded as he tied your wrists together with a rope you didn’t realize he had nearby. 

“Yes sir,” you responded. His dominance made you wet before he even touched you there.

“Good girl. Flip over,” he demanded. 

You followed his order, rolling over to lay on your arms and knees. You propped your ass out for him, wiggling it around playfully. A harsh slap stung your bottom, causing you to yelp out in pain.

Taehyung pulled down your panties, running a finger through your slick folds. He teased your clit, rubbing it in circles agonizingly slowly. Before you could complain, he licked a long and flat stripe along your pussy. His tongue swirled and flicked at a euphoric pace that had you seeing stars. He inserted two fingers into your soaked pussy as his tongue traveled to your ass.

You gasped at the new sensation, you’ve never had your ass eaten before. You tingled in new places as his tongue explored the intimate region. His fingers curled in you as he pumped them into you. You felt your climax build up as your pussy began to clench.

“Cum for me, babygirl,” Taehyung ordered, increasing his pace. 

The control he had over your body was incredible. You had an intense orgasm as soon as he uttered those words. Your body shook under him as you released the knot that formed in your lower abdomen. 

Taehyung flipped you onto your back with ease. Your chest was heaving and you tried to catch your breath.

“I think you’re wet enough for me now,” Taehyung smiled as he finally tugged off his underwear. 

You eagerly spread your legs open for him, signaling that you were ready. Taehyung relished the sight. He rubbed his cock along the folds of your pussy, hitting your clit with every stroke. You were oversensitive from your orgasm, which made you cry out each time he played with your clit.

“Are you ready, baby?” Taehyung teased your entrance with his tip.

“Please fuck me already. I can’t take your teasing any longer,” you begged.

Taehyung happily obliged. He took his time entering you, enjoying your drawn out moans. He let out a low groan when he finally bottomed out. He filled you up perfectly. He lingered in that position for a little too long. You had the silly idea of being cheeky.

“I guess you could say that I’m stuffed now,” you smirked.

“You haven’t felt anything yet,” Taehyung scoffed as he finally began to move.

His thrusts were powerful, allowing his dick to hit you in all the right places each time. Your moans were getting louder with every second. Your tied hands reached between your thighs, but Taehyung harshly grabbed your wrists.

“Did I say you could touch yourself?” Taehyung admonished. 

As punishment, he pinned your tied up hands above your head as he began to pound into you mercilessly. You were lost in pure bliss when he did what you were trying to do earlier. He applied the perfect amount of pressure to your clit to make you go wild. Your body began to quiver again under him.

“Let’s finish together,” Taehyung panted. He was close. 

“Taehyung, I love you,” you made eye contact with him.

That sent him over the edge. The sincerity mixed with lust in your eyes was the final straw. He released his hot load into you as you also surrendered to your pleasure. 

“Now I would say that you’re stuffed,” Taehyung joked as he leaned over to kiss your forehead, “I love you too, ___. So much. More than you could ever fathom. In a way, you saved my life.”

“I did?” you were still out of it from your two intense orgasms.

“You did. But we can talk about that another day. I’ll get something to clean you up,” he chuckled. 

You were already asleep by the time he returned with a towel. He smiled to himself, wondering how you can go from sinfully seductive one second to downright adorable to the next. Taehyung happily cuddled up next to you and soon followed suit in slumber.

You had to return back to your house the next day. You stupidly forgot your laptop charger and Taehyung was whining because he wanted to watch Peaky Blinders. Taehyung dropped you off and waved cutely as you left the car. You promised that you’d watch the show with him the next day. 

The moment you stepped foot into your cottage you noticed something was off. The door gave way too easily, and the aura had changed. The once peaceful atmosphere of your safe haven had been replaced by an eerie stillness. It was akin to the silence before a major storm. 

You silently surveyed the immediate surroundings as you closed the door behind you. You knew you weren’t alone. Acting as if nothing was wrong, you casually walked to the bedroom. The intruder was watching you intently. 

You stretched nonchalantly, in hopes of luring the intruder out. It worked. A rustle of movement was heard behind you, allowing you to easily evade the attack. In a motion almost unseen to the human eye, you had your attacker pinned to the ground with a knife at their throat (it’s good practice to always keep a weapon on you in this profession). 

“I really thought I had you that time,” your attacker sighed.

“Jungkook? What the fuck are you doing here?” you angrily questioned, tilting his chin up with your blade. 

“I could ask the same thing,” he retorted, unfazed by the knife at his throat, “What the fuck have you been doing here for the past two months, ___?”

“I’m on a mission. Is that a problem?” you masked your alarm.

“It is if you refuse to kill your target. I’ve been tailing you for the past week. You’ve had so many chances to finish that thing off, yet here we are,” he replied smugly.

“Did Yoongi send you?”

“Who else?”

“Go back and tell him that I’m working on it.”

“You want me to lie?” Jungkook dramatically dropped his jaw.

That angered you, causing you to apply just enough pressure with the knife to break his skin. A line of blood trickled down the blade.

“Why did you choose to reveal yourself now?” you snarled.

“I got bored. Tracking you is boring. Watching you pretend to be in love with that thing is boring. I came to give you an ultimatum. Either you kill it, or I will. That thing killed your parents, ___. You have to remember that it’s a monster,” Jungook challenged you, “Guess little Miss Number One is finally slipping.”

“Fuck you. All those years of chasing after my ass finally getting to you? Second best isn’t such a bad thing.” you mocked.

“Fuck me? If you insist,” Jungkook winked, “You know, this position is kinda hot. You into knife play?”

“Shut up, Jungkook,” you say in disgust, finally releasing your hold on him.

You sit on the bed, watching Jungkook as he paced around your room. Processing his ultimatum had you in a trance. By now, you had no chance of killing Taehyung. You foolishly fell in love with him. 

However, you didn’t think Jungkook would be able to win in a fight against Taehyung. Jungkook is too brash, and Taehyung is too powerful despite his atypical behavior. Even if Taehyung killed Jungkook, that would only cause more problems. The VEC would be even more eager to exterminate him, and will probably send multiple teams in to do the job. Maybe you could convince Yoongi to call it off. Maybe, by some miracle, he would listen to you.

“___? ___? Yoohoo. If you’re gonna ignore me, you should at least stop staring at my dick,” Jungkook stood before you.

“Huh?” you were pulled out of your daze and looked up at him , “Oh. Don’t flatter yourself, Jungkook. I wouldn’t stare at your shrimp dick even if my life was on the line.”

“My Jungcock is the size of a jumbo shrimp, thanks for noticing,” Jungkook grinned.

“God, you’re so disgusting,” you rolled your eyes.

“And yet the vamp ladies can’t get enough of me. They’re willing to die for this dick,” Jungkook nodded.

“I don’t think they’re exactly willing, but sure. Do me a favor, go back to Yoongi and tell him that the job is done,” you say quietly.

“Oh? You’re gonna kill your lover boy?” Jungkook raised an eyebrow. 

“Duh. It’s my job. It’s just been hard to find an opening--”

“Bullshit. I told you, you’ve had numerous openings. You just refuse to take any of them for some reason. Don’t tell me that you’ve actually gotten attached to your target,” Jungkook said in disbelief.

You remained quiet, avoiding eye contact. There was no use in lying, Jungkook would see right through you.

“Holy shit, ___. You dumb bitch,” Jungkook laughed.

“I told you that I would handle it. Just go tell Yoongi that the job is done,” you pleaded.

“And get chewed out in your place? No thank you,” Jungkook sat beside you, “So, what happened?”

You tell him everything. Despite him being a dick, Jungkook was probably the closest thing you had to a friend. He was orphaned due to a vampire attack, so the VEC took him in. You’ve been rivals since you were kids. 

“Sounds like you might actually have real feelings for this thing,” Jungkook said after hearing you out.

“He’s not a thing, his name is Taehyung,” you admonished, “But yes, I think I actually am in love. I fucked up big time, Jungkook,” you exhaled in exasperation. 

“Feels bad man,” Jungkook shook his head, “Major F.”

“Ok thanks for your sympathy,” you huffed.

“You still have to kill him. You know that right?”

“I know. It’s just going to be really hard,” you fought back tears.

Jungkook watched you struggle to hold everything in. He pulled you in for a hug. You suddenly let it all out, crying into his chest. Everything came crashing down. You have to fulfill your mission. Even if you failed, the VEC would pursue Taehyung relentlessly. You owe it to him to give him a peaceful death. 

Your special poison. That’s how you’ll do it. Once he’s immobile, you’ll be able to behead him in one quick motion, making it virtually painless for him. But god, it’s gonna hurt like hell for you.

“Do it the next time you meet him. If you don’t, I’ll kill him myself,” Jungkook said after you finished crying. He said it in a tone that let you know that it’s not a threat, but rather a promise that he’ll back you up. 

You cried yourself to sleep that night. You tried to convince yourself that Taehyung was just a monster that charmed you to bend to his will. You tried to believe that he doesn’t actually love you. You tried to believe that everything was a lie. 

But you just couldn’t. 

You didn’t want to think about how tomorrow will be the last day you’d ever see him. It would be the last time he would ever hold you in his arms, the last time he’d gaze at you with his beautiful eyes, and the last time he would ever say that he loves you.

You drove to Taehyung’s house the next day, as promised. Taehyung waited for you in his usual spot on the fountain’s edge. His lips curled into a smile as soon as you drove in. God, you’d miss that smile.

He bounded over to you as you parked the car.

“Hello darling! Oh, are you alright?” Taehyung asked with a concerned look when he saw your puffy eyes, “Have you been crying?”

“I got emotional last night. It was stupid. Don’t worry about it,” you faked a smile. 

“It’s not stupid if you cried over it. What upset you?”

“The thought of losing you,” you answered honestly.

“Aw, that’s sweet. Don’t worry, my darling. You won’t be rid of me any time soon,” Taehyung pulls you into a tight embrace to reassure you.

“I hope not,” you quietly replied.

Published October 16, 2020. No editing, copying, translating, or reposting allowed. All Rights Reserved © 2020 Baepsaesbae.