#just realized I was supposed to make the pendant all black I’m sorry about that!! I made it more orange-y to reflect the light

[coyotesinew]

Could you please doodle a Mackenzie Valley wolf w/ the regular brown/grey coat, but wearing a black mjolnir pendant necklace, if it’s not too specific? For @lukanthropi :)

[talesofesther]

Hey Esther!! I was the anon that asked if I could ask some writing advice. I’m going to try to keep this short. I have been working on a writing project for over a year now. It’s sort of a mystery thriller. It’s about an all girls boarding school run by a very popular family (they gained nobility during the gilded age and made a family corporation) the school is notorious for teaching the best values as well as discipline in education. It’s been open since the 1900s and has seen many young girls through. My main character is related to the family of the school, her father is the son of the current headmaster. My main character has no knowledge of this because her father was never in her life. She was raised by her mothers parents. The school is suppose to be otherworldly, with different wings and very English and gothic architecture. Here is the interesting part. The school is actually funded by the government, and they pick the best well suited young girls and train them to be assassins. They have a group of young girls that have already been in the program scout the school for girls they think would make it through the program. They only admit a small number due to the fact that they do not want attention on them. It’s a very dark and twisted story. The main character is chosen not only because she is next in line to run the school after her father but she’s very smart, very knowledgeable. She got her fathers family genes. At the beginning of the story she’s introduced to the school and she has this gut feeling that something off. It’s perfect and idealistic in her eyes. But the feeling the teachers give off (they also know about the program) and some of the peers talk about the “ghost that roams the halls” a mere story about the daughter of the first headmaster (the main characters 4th great grandfather) who went mad and drowned in the lake outside the school. That’s another mystery. The questions I have for you, and you don’t have to answer if you don’t have any answers 😂 I realize this might feel bombarding. I write in third person, I’ve always done so. I tried first person but was never good at it. As for the family ties within the school are there any foreshadowing techniques that you try that works for you? The main characters father works at the school, he is a teacher of philosophy. He knows that she is his daughter, and it’s a sort of I don’t know you but you are my child vibes. He wants to get to know her, but also he knows the pain she will go through in the training. How would you describe the school? The haunting Atmosphere? The sort of subtle brainwashing of the girls? The manipulation?

My main character is a very gentle soul, she’s sweet and kind, but I want her character development to change. By the end of the story she’s very untrusting and very good at manipulation. Her love interest is actually the leader of the girls program, she’s got a haunting past and is just as messed up. My main character meets her early on. And the dynamic between them is interesting. My main character is naturally sweet and caring and she helps her, but the leader of the girls is sort of conflicted? Because she’s never met someone that sweet and kind. So she’s very mean and cruel. How would you write the leader of the girl becoming fond of the main character?

sorry if this was a lot of questions. Thank you in advance Esther!

Hello, first of all I wanna tell you that I absolutely love your storyline, omg that is such a cool ideaaa

Now, for foreshadowing, most of the time, I personally, prefer to do it subtly. Let's take an example from my latest story;

You had transferred to Nevermore a little over two months ago — adorning a pair of dark sunglasses you never took off and dressed in all black, save for the light pink pendant of your necklace — instantly getting into Wednesday's nerves the moment you stepped foot into the school and called her 'sweetheart'.

There I talked about Wolfie's sunglasses and her necklace; later on in the story it's revealed that she is the wolf and has caramel eyes that could easily identify her as such, so she wears the sunglasses to cover that up; this is a foreshadowing that gives the reader that moment of 'oh, that's why this happened'. A similar thing happens with her necklace, that later on is the reason Wednesday finds out she is the wolf, and even further on is explained that said necklace belonged to her mother.

Things like that are a simple example of subtle foreshadowing, something that at first was just an additional to the story and later on ties with the main plot. For your story, as you want to foreshadow the family ties, you could use a handful of things: mannerisms, get your main character subconsciously do something only her father does; you could have your character think/wonder why she sometimes feels similar or connected to her father and later on find out why; you can have other characters point out rumors about an unnamed kid the teacher once had... Just a few examples that can hint to what will happen in the future.

Another way to do foreshadowing is have the character say it. For example, if my character says "I've never felt at ease in the darkness" the reader will, even if subconsciously, keep an eye out for bad things happening in the dark.

For describing the school and atmosphere, I think that's something kinda personal to you, because it's your story; but generally, you said you want the school to feel haunting, yeah? Immediately remove most, if not all, of the colors. Your school should be mainly in shades of black or grey, maybe brown. No colors automatically gives any place an eerie feeling. You can also describe it as old, not old as in falling to pieces; but lived in, historical; give me cracks in the walls, one or two shattered glasses and cobwebs in the corners; give me rooms that no student dares walk in because no one knows what's inside it.

The brainwashing of the girls can be shown in many ways, but I think mainly, is when you see them slowly losing themselves; a girl who was once bubbly and talkative now is quiet and serious. You can show a few of the selected girls having almost the "same" personalities, all of them being the epitome of discipline and obedience. Have the teachers be aware of it, showing them as an example of the perfect student. You could also go a step further and show those same girls breaking when no one's watching.

As for the romance, I'd suggest a very slow burn. Show the love interest being wary of this newcomer and her gentleness, show her not really comprehending why this new girl is being kind to her. Show her trying to push it away, but also show her learning to like this kindness. I'm always one for the details, so I'd suggest small gestures that eventually mean more; like your character getting an extra fruit at breakfast for her girl, helping her out on class... things like that. Try to show their relationship developing, give them moments alone where they ponder over and over about the growing feelings in their hearts, give them moments of conflict that show that their trust is still being built, give them moments of sudden intimacy only for them to realize what's happening and pull away, give them moments where they hurt each other, and then realize how much they miss each other. Eventually, you can show how the love interest can't even fathom going back to a life where this kindness doesn't exist.

I really hope I could help, you can hit me up anytime to talk about writing or ask for advice. <3

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

wordless, m | jjk

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: A library is full of words and quiet. Jeon Jungkook liked to go to the public library a lot. It turns out, so do you. And that’s how it begins, from passing glances, to words on a screen, to Jungkook now sitting shirtless in his bedroom, heart racing as he presses the record button.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; smut (fem reader, filming of nudity and m-masturbation, semi-public dry humping); fluff; non-idol!BTS; the definition of “well that escalated quickly” but also not? lol; shy!Jungkook

hello again, @gowayyeonjun, ;)

–

He stared at the black screen, reflecting his nervous expression.

His hand shot out and flipped it down. His phone case faced upwards, a clear case with a carrot graphic on the bottom against the matte black of his smartphone. A reference to his childhood nickname because of his ever-so-slightly too large front teeth.

He took a deep breath and flipped his phone back up, leaning it against his windowsill.

“Am I really going to do this?” he asked his own reflection, who did nothing but repeat his question back to him.

He raised his hand, dropped it. Raised it again, chewing on his lip. Leaned forward and pressed his finger to his phone screen, unlocking it. Then he pulled up the camera app. Before, he had been staring at his reflection in the black screen, but now his face was in full color, curly dark hair over one eye since it was freshly washed, his tan chest bare, gray sweatpants slung low on his hips. Black tattoos on his right arm on full display, brown eyes wide and slightly terrified.

If you told Jeon Jungkook six months ago that he was about to film himself masturbating, he would have told you that you were fucking crazy.

He breathed out tensely, puffing his cheeks.

It was all your fault.

If he hadn’t seen you, he wouldn’t be doing this.

-

Jungkook liked to read and he liked to go to the public library. He knew libraries were becoming obsolete, but Jungkook loved libraries because they were quiet, they were full of books, and nobody tried to talk to him. That was it, really. He was a shy person and he really didn’t know what to do when someone approached him and tried to chat him up. When Jungkook was in front of a crowd doing public speaking, he was fine. But one-on-one interactions freaked him out. He was bad at talking and connecting with people on a personal level.

It didn’t really help that a lot of people thought he was attractive.

Jungkook didn’t think he was ugly, but he didn’t really think he was that crazy special either. He was just a guy and he was just trying to go about his everyday life without having a crowd of giggling girls following him for half a block trying to get his number.

That’s why Jungkook liked libraries. People didn’t talk at libraries. They were supposed to be quiet. He could be calm here. No one was going to try to pick him up at a library.

And then he saw you.

You were browsing the shelves, pulling a book out and reading the back. You had five in your arms already, and here was number six. You tilted your head, opening it up with one hand, reading the introduction. Jungkook could see how deft your fingers were with that single action. You were wearing a short-sleeved white crop top and high-waisted baggy black jeans with colorful patches on them. They looked sewn on, as if you had done it yourself.

He stared at you through the bookshelves.

You had the prettiest eyes he had ever seen. Lips that looked so soft they seemed unreal. Hair that cascaded down your shoulders, a little messy and not quite done. For some reason, you holding that book was such a beautiful action that he couldn’t look away, staring at your one hand spreading open the pages, tongue tucked in your cheek as you considered it. You nodded to yourself and began to walk out the aisle.

His eyes followed you.

From then on, Jungkook noticed you every time you appeared. Always holding over five books, returning them and getting more. Usually in a crop top and high-waisted jeans. Sometimes with a black denim jacket if it was chilly at night. Jungkook was at the library all the time and it seemed like so were you. He didn’t try to talk to you, but he did always stare at you, watching your movements. Jungkook was unaware that this was how a lot of people saw him and probably the reason why so many people tried to talk to him and ask for his number.

He wanted to ask you for your number, but he was too shy.

One time, you were reading and walking. This particular time, Jungkook hadn’t noticed you until it was too late and you bumped into him. He could smell you suddenly, the scent of peaches and honey. It must have been your perfume. You looked up to him and bowed apologetically, wordless.

His ears burned hot and his jaw trembled, almost blurting out an apology.

You turned away, continuing your reading.

Peaches and honey.

Jungkook wanted to say something to you. He really did. For three months, he tried to muster up the courage to say something. But you weren’t supposed to talk in a library. And what was he supposed to say? He didn’t know you. He wasn’t sure if you had anything in common other than books. You read lots of things. Crime thrillers. Sci-fi. Fantasy. Autobiographies. He noticed you never went into the romance section though.

He wondered why that was.

The next time Jungkook interacted with you, he had been reaching for a title at the front. The library put the newest releases here and one of the covers had caught his eye. And all of a sudden, your hand was reaching out too and his fingers touched yours.

You jerked your hand back, bowing apologetically, moving away.

He wanted to run after you and tell you that you could have it, but you strode into the library quickly and then you were gone, crop top and all. Jungkook stared at his hand, remembering that brief moment of your fingertips brushing against his skin, peaches and honey filling his nose as you neared.

The weeks dragged on.

It was getting colder and you wore the denim jacket a lot now. Sometimes you wore a fuzzy cropped sweater. One time, it was pink and tight, molding to your breasts. Your black jeans were tight too, shaped to your perfect ass and thighs. Plump and juicy.

They would look nice in his hands.

He walked past you on purpose that time. A little close, so he could smell the peaches and honey.

That time, Jungkook had gone home with an armful of books, dumped them on his bed, then dumped himself on the bed, shoving his pants down and stroking himself to climax, the scent of peaches and honey haunting him.

Another time, you were sitting on the ground, thighs spread, on your knees. A tall pile of ten books, tapping your cheek with one finger as your other hand shuffled through them, apparently trying to decide which ones to check out. Jungkook’s eyes went wide. He was watching you above the books, a full shelf between you and him. From this angle, he was looking down at you.

Staring down your V-neck white sweater, at the swell of your breasts, a silver necklace trapped between them. He only had a good view because he was looking at you from above. You reached between your tits and plucked the pendant out from your cleavage, a silver feather.

Jungkook had never gotten hard at the fucking library before, but his cock swelled and tented in his sweatpants instantly.

He couldn’t function, watching you on your knees, curve of your breasts on full display. Finally, you seemed to decide and got up, sighing softly as you put some of the books back. You moved out of the aisle, hoisting the ones you had chosen. Jungkook jerked his head away, realizing he was staring at you too much. And it was creepy, so he should stop.

Once he was home, he couldn’t and didn’t need to stop himself. He still remembered the peach and honey perfume. He wanted that peach and honey to cling to his clothes, stay on his sheets, invade his nose. Wanted your skin on his, wanted your body on top of him.

It got quite cold at some point, and you wore cropped hoodies now, the front tucked into tight black jeans. Still checking out books at the local library, a fuzzy pink bag strapped to your back with a cute bunny character on it.

Had that much time passed? Jungkook couldn’t believe it.

He still remembered the peaches and honey. He tried not to stare at you too much, because he knew it was getting too creepy and, now, he was jacking off to memories of your eyes and lips, thinking about that one time your fingertips brushed his skin.

He seemed frozen at the shelf, zoning out, contemplating if he should look up or not. Then the peaches and honey were right beside him. He could smell it, see your black sneakers with the pink laces. They matched your bag.

Your fingertips brushed against his right hand, plucking out the book beside it.

Jungkook started and whipped his head up, long black hair covering one of his shaking brown eyes.

You jumped a little as well, not expecting his reaction. Of course, you didn’t. He tried to calm his nervousness. Just open your mouth, Jungkook, he scolded himself. Apologize for scaring her.

You were holding your phone in one hand. It had a black case with a grinning smiley face with devil horns. You tucked the book in the crook of your arm and swiped at your phone, and then turned the screen to face him.

Sorry.

It was in your notes app.

He stared at the word. Then looked back up at you. You nodded, pointing to the screen.

He lowered his hand and fumbled for his phone, hastily typing into it and turning it around to show you.

No, it’s my fault. I’m sorry.

You smiled at him.

Jungkook thought he was going to die.

You typed quickly and flashed the screen at him.

I’m using my phone because we shouldn’t talk in a library.

Jungkook typed fast too to give you his reply.

That makes a lot of sense. You’re smart.

You beamed at him. Jungkook thought he was ascending to heaven. You typed eagerly, as if you couldn’t wait to tell him what next.

I see you at the library all the time. What’s your name?

Jungkook was pretty sure he was dead and in heaven already, seeing that response. You noticed him. Did you notice him as much as he noticed you? His fingers shook as he typed his answer.

Jeon Jungkook.

His lower lip trembled slightly as he added one more question.

What’s yours?

For some reason, these face-to-face text conversations did not bother him as much as a real chat. After that, you two exchanged small talk like this. Usually just a greeting in text before going on your way. You didn’t ask him for his number, not even to send texts. You always used the notes app, always in person, and it was short and sweet.

One day, he found some bravery somehow.

Jungkook was a very shy person. His fingers were shaking so much that he dropped his phone. You had bent down to pick it up, reading the question he wanted to ask.

I want to hear your voice.

You tilted your head, holding his phone out. He bit his lip and took it, placing it against his chest, somewhat ashamed for asking. Your hand suddenly appeared, your phone in his vision.

Why?

He lifted his head, looking at you. You shrugged, as if to add, does it matter? He typed slowly, inhaling deeply as he turned his phone around.

I’m curious.

Your eyes flickered down, reading it. You were close to him. He could smell the peaches and honey of your perfume. Wearing a cropped purple sweater with tight dark blue jeans and purple sneakers with white laces. The same pink fuzzy bag with the bunny character.

You leaned forward and Jungkook’s eyes widened, suddenly feeling your breath on his ear. Soft, warm exhales. His entire body shivered and tingled. His cock jerked his sweatpants, thankfully black and baggy enough that hopefully you wouldn’t notice. His breathing shallowed, wafting against your neck.

From this angle, he could see your phone in your hand with the little devil emote on the case.

You pulled back, blinking slowly. A small smile formed on your lips.

His cock swelled. That was not an innocent smile.

You lifted your phone.

Next time, I’ll have something for you.

The next time, you held your phone out to his. There was an app called QuickShare that allowed your phones to exchange files. You both pressed the button and Jungkook waited as the file downloaded. You held up your earbuds and pointed to him, as if to ask, do you have headphones?

Jungkook nodded, fishing out his earbuds and tucking them in his ears.

The file finished downloading and Jungkook held up his phone.

You smiled at him and gestured to him to play it.

Jungkook turned his phone back around and played it. It was a video file, but the screen was black as it the file began. Then your voice invaded his ears.

“Hello, Jeon Jungkook.”

His heart beat fast, finally hearing your voice after all this time.

“You asked to hear my voice, so here it is. Do you like it?”

He jerked his head up and looked at you, nodding quickly. You smiled at him.

“I hope you do.” A small, pretty laugh. Jungkook liked that little laugh a lot. “I guess it’s been kind of weird only speaking through text at the library, hasn’t it?” Jungkook made eye contact with you. “But it’s been nice too. I’ve enjoyed it a lot.” Your smile was becoming less and less innocent. Not mean, but a little teasing now. “I think you’re really cute.” He felt his cheeks flush hotly. “Why do you always wear sweatpants, Jungkook?” His brows furrowed. You pointed down to his phone. He lowered his eyes.

The black screen was changing. There was rustling, and the phone was lifted.

A bed.

A bed with dark gray sheets and a black blanket with stars wrapped around you. You smiled down at the camera. Jungkook’s eyes widened. Your lips opened, speaking softly, but clearly.

“You shouldn’t wear sweatpants, Jungkook. It doesn’t hide your erections very well.”

The blanket fell down your shoulders and Jungkook nearly dropped his phone. His cock instantly swelled. He jerked his head up from his phone, to your arched eyebrow and smirk, then back to his phone.

Staring at your naked body, tits out and nipples hard. Thighs pressed together, hands resting on them.

You tilted your head at the camera, giving him a similar expression to the one you had right now. He gawked, unable to look away.

“I wonder if you’re hard now, Jungkook,” the you in the video murmured. He was. Oh, fuck, he was. “Is it me?” Yes. It was you. Fuck. “I tried to see by getting close to you and breathing on your ear last time. You got hard because of it. I think.” He did. Fuck. He did. “I wonder why.”

You spread your legs and Jungkook gasped, staring at the space between your thighs, your glistening pussy barely visible. You leaned forward, breasts hanging down as you neared the camera, a small, smug smile on your lips.

“I wonder,” you whispered to the camera. “How do you feel about this, Jungkook?”

You flicked your phone with a finger, turning the screen to black again. Jungkook thought it was over. But there were still a few seconds left. Then all of a sudden, your moan filled his ears, breathy and erotic.

“Jungkoooooook….”

The video ended.

Holy shit.

Oh my God.

What just happened?

Oh my God.

Peaches and honey. All of a sudden, peaches and honey, close to him. Your body. Your currently clothed body, but he knew what you looked like naked now. I know what you look like naked! Jungkook backed up and you followed, all the way until his back hit the bookshelf. He made a small squeak, but your hand suddenly came up, finger pressed against his lips. His eyes rose, locking with yours.

You shook your head, placing your other hand by your lips and making a gesture to zip them.

You were touching him.

Oh my God.

You were touching him.

Your other hand lowered from your mouth. Lowered. Hovered over his hips. Waited. His eyes stared into yours. You removed your finger from his lips. Seemed to think better of it. Backed up a little. But his hand shot out, grabbing yours and pressing it to his crotch.

You studied him carefully. Jungkook sunk his teeth into his lower lip and chewed slowly. He didn’t know if this was right, but you showed him your naked body! You filmed it. And gave him the video file. You must know. You must know what you’re doing to him.

He lifted his hips a little into your hand, pressing his stiff length into your palm. Your fingers curled around it slowly, one by one. Not speaking. Wordless. He reached up to the strings of your black hoodie and played with them, breathing quietly but heavily, opening his mouth. You lifted your other hand and pressed your fingertip to your lips. He nodded.

Jungkook began to roll his hips into your palm. You didn’t move away. In fact, you held firm, maintaining your solid grip on his hard dick through his gray sweatpants. In the fucking library. He was humping your fucking hand in the library after you gave him a video of your naked body.

His eyes drifted down to your phone sticking out of the center pocket of your hoodie. The matter black case with the smiley face with devil horns. Jungkook looked back up. You seemed amused. Suddenly, your hand seemed to press back, meeting his hips every time he ascended, adding more friction. His shaking fingers pressed play on the video again and your voice filled his ears, speaking to him once again. Saying his name. Having your one-sided conversation. You rubbed him through his sweatpants in the back aisle of the library and he was getting close, close, your voice teasing him, but your current self completely silent, only giving him that slight smile.

Holy shit, Jungkook was going to explode in his underwear like a teenager.

You leaned in as the video moaned in his ears and he almost moaned, the sound dying in his throat as you hovered over him. You tilted your head, curving around his. Your hand stopped around his cock, squeezing him tight.

Thank God.

He was seconds away from completely embarrassing himself.

You reached up and took one of his earbuds out of his ear, your warm breathing tickling his earlobe. Lowered your hand and placed the earbud in his, tucking it safely before removing your hand from his sweatpants. Jungkook shuddered, gasping your name involuntarily. The first word he had ever spoken to you in person. The scent of peach and honey lingered around his nose.

Your murmured one word into his ear.

The first word you had ever spoken to him in person.

“Jungkook.”

His name.

You backed up, smiling gently. Backed up, turning away, leaving him there in the back of the library, clutching his phone, underwear soaked with pre-cum, now in possession of a video of you, naked.

-

Now Jungkook was in his bedroom.

Camera app open.

You didn’t ask for a video. You didn’t ask for anything, actually. You just gave, so he wanted to give you something back. Jungkook wasn’t the kind of guy to only give a little. He gave a lot. He always did. That was how he was. He knew what he wanted to do. He knew what he was going to do.

This has to be the craziest thing I’ve ever done.

Six months ago, if you told Jeon Jungkook that he was about to film himself jacking off to give said video to a young woman he met at the public library who had only said one fucking word to him the whole time they saw each other in person, the one fucking word being his name, Jungkook would have told you that you were insane and needed to see a doctor.

He reached over and pressed record.

Unlike you, Jungkook didn’t start off with a black screen. He started off with his face and bare torso, part of his gray sweatpants showing. Sitting on the edge of his bed, even remembering things like picking out his nicer black sheets and making sure he had picked up after himself. He wore the lighter gray sweatpants so his body would stand out amongst the black. The obvious center of attention. Jungkook nervously ran a hand through his long black hair, curly from the shower earlier. Lifted his dark brown eyes to stare straight into the camera. Pink lips quivering as he spoke your name.

“Hey.”

A small anxious smile that he couldn’t help.

“Ah… If you think this is weird, you can delete this right now and not watch it…” Jungkook swallowed, dropping his hand. He inhaled a long breath, trying to calm his nerves. “But… I…”

He looked straight into the camera, not at his reflection.

“I replay your video all the time.”

His heart was racing in his chest. He could feel it galloping like a damn racehorse.

“I can’t help it.”

The images came back, memorized now, but the reason he had replayed it all those times before was to hear your voice, over and over, saying his name. Moaning his name at the very end.

“What do you do after?” Jungkook breathed your name, softly, letting it fall from his lips. Said it again, forming the syllables with desire. “I’m so curious. Will you tell me sometime?” There was no way Jungkook could say this shit at the fucking library. But this wasn’t the library. This was his bedroom. He didn’t have to give this to you.

But he was going to.

“Will you show me, sometime?” Thump. “I’d love to watch.”

His fingers began to trail down his chest. Jungkook wasn’t actively thinking about it. He was imagining you listening, knowing his voice would fill your ears, his voice now smokey with lust and desire, several octaves lower than his usual tone. He couldn’t help it.

“Will you let me watch?”

His eyes shifted to the screen, watching his fingertips brush the waistband of his gray sweatpants, slipping under. He had prepared, practiced earlier, knowing the composition was correct. Making sure you would be able to see. He pushed them down, past his v-line. Thump. Licked his lips, stared into the camera again.

“Will you let me touch?” Jungkook breathed, black strands shadowing his left eye, lashes lowering as he pulled his hard cock out of his sweatpants.

His heart ricocheted in his chest. He wrapped his hand around it, moaning softly, feeling his hot, taut skin. Stroked slowly, staring into the lens. Jungkook already knew what he looked like. Muscles on his right arm rippling, black tattoos dancing on his tan skin. The lust built up inside him like a storm, ramping up and up, and he was swept up by the winds, tipping his head back a little as he stroked himself, whimpering out your name.

“Do you know how good you smell?” Jungkook panted out. “You smell like peaches and honey. It must be your perfume. It’s so nice. I wish I could smell it more. I wish I could stand next to you and breathe it in.” He was rambling, but it was genuine, so he didn’t try to stop himself. He didn’t want this to seem fake. He didn’t want you to think he was trying to play you. “I want it all over my clothes. I want it on my skin, your peaches and honey.”

Faster, harder, pre-cum leaking out and dripping down, adding to the pleasure every time his fingers closed around the throbbing head. His left hand reached back to support himself as he leaned back, staring at the camera with half-lidded eyes, his toned chest shuddering, sweatpants halfway down his thighs, his right hand furiously jacking himself off.

“I’m sorry if this makes you uncomfortable,” Jungkook gasped out, eyelids fluttering. “But I can’t help it. I really want you. It’s not fair how pretty you are.” He exhaled hard, heart beating fast. “And you gave me that video. All I wanted was to hear your voice.”

He threw his head back, nearing the end.

“You let me see your body.” His words were becoming moans, breathless with longing. “You let me see so much. You want me to want you.”

Jungkook lowered his head, catching himself in the phone screen, black hair all over his face, mouth open, his sharp jawline tense with his approaching climax.

“And I do. Fuck, I want you so fucking bad.”

His eyes shifted to the lens.

“And I’m going to cum. Thinking about you.”

Jungkook sucked in a breath and gasped out your name, his cock jerking in his hand, shooting white strings down his fingers, splattering onto his sweatpants, creating a pool of white. He had made sure to wait a couple days to let it build up so he could give you a good show. His orgasm spilled out of him, his torso quivering, enveloped with pleasure riding through him in waves. Slowly, he smeared it up and down his length, heightening the ecstasy. His chest was trembling, slowly coming down. Jungkook took his own cum and rubbed it on the sensitive head, whimpering softly at the spikes of pleasure it caused.

His lips formed your name once again, a low moan.

Held up his right hand, covered in his cum.

Reached over with his left and stopped the recording.

-

Jungkook had to wait a while to give it to you.

Holidays and all that. Then he got busy with work, but eventually he was back at the public library again, looking for you. The sinful video was saved on his phone, in a locked folder, buried in his photo gallery of family photos and pictures with his friends.

He looked for you, couldn’t find you.

Until one day Jungkook spied you at the check-in counter, handing the librarian your books. You had maybe ten or twelve, and the librarian checked them in one by one, having small talk with you. You seemed familiar with them. Of course, you were. You read so much. Not many people visited the library as often as you. Maybe himself.

You were wearing baggy black jeans with colorful sewn on patches, as if you had done it yourself. A cropped white puffer jacket to keep you warm. You nodded and smiled at the librarian before turning around to go into the main part of the library. A loose black crop-top with the slightest sliver of midriff showing, instantly reminding Jungkook of what you looked like without clothes on.

Your eyes found his.

You smiled at him.

Jungkook nearly dropped his phone. He probably looked ridiculous, wearing light gray sweatpants and a white hoodie, hood pulled up with his black hair sticking out of the sides. But he wore the gray sweatpants on purpose. At least, every time he came to the library.

He held up his phone with shaking hands.

You began to walk, but not quite towards him. Your eyes shifted and he followed, a little distance behind, slowly realizing where you were going. The same place you two were when you gave him the first video. The back of the library, where the older encyclopedias were. No one went there. The first time, Jungkook didn’t even think about it when you gestured him there to give him the video.

Now, he understood why.

He turned the corner and you were standing at the end of the aisle, next to the wall. Waved at him kindly. There was no way anyone could suspect you gave him a video of your naked body after saying a single word to him in person. Jungkook began to walk towards you, step by step. He didn’t have to give you the video. He had filmed another one of just his voice having an awkward one-sided conversation with himself.

You pulled out your phone with the little devil emote on the case.

Took out your earbuds, tucked them in your cute ears.

That smile, turning slightly less innocent now as Jungkook neared.

He held up his phone, pointing to the QuickShare app. You nodded, loaded it up. He stopped right in front of you and pressed the ‘send file’ button. Not the video of only his voice. The other one. His heart was beating fast, so fast. It began to download. The percentage ticking up. Thirty. Fifty. Eighty.

He felt a tap on his forearm.

Jungkook jerked his head up, staring into your eyes.

You gave him a concerned look, tilting your head. Wordlessly asking, are you okay?

He chewed on his lip and nodded slowly. Took another step towards you so he could smell it. The peaches and honey, wafting all over you, the sweet perfume. Now you two were close, so close. You smiled and patted his arm once again, reassuringly. You did not seem bothered by the closeness.

The file finished downloading.

Jungkook reached over to your phone and touched the screen. You tipped your hand to let him access the video file from the top menu. Your eyebrows shot up as you saw the beginning frame of the video, him shirtless. Jungkook swallowed hard next to you.

Pressed play.

He didn’t watch. Couldn’t really. He had re-watched it already, over and over, wondering if it was okay. Too little? Too much? Too forward? Too crazy? Jungkook stared at the top of your head, chewing his lip raw with anxiousness. Oh, shit, what if you ran and never spoke to him again? What If you thought he was super creepy? He shouldn’t have done that. He shouldn’t have given you that video. What was he thinking?

He felt you lean against his chest, breathing shallowly, your free hand gripping his white hoodie.

Jungkook’s eyes widened, finally looking down. You were watching him masturbate, not looking away, pressing yourself against his chest. His cock swelled at your closeness and the embarrassment of seeing himself come undone in that tiny screen in your hands, clutching your phone tightly.

You pressed your body against his, harder, and his hands automatically came up to hold your elbows, steadying you. He planted his feet so he wouldn’t tip over. Your hips touched his. Oh fuck. The front of your jeans rolled into the crotch of his sweatpants.

Oh, fuck.

Jungkook sucked in a breath as you began to dry hump him in the fucking public library, watching a video of him jacking off that he willingly gave you, your soft gasps against his chest, eyes glued to the screen, peaches and honey invading his nose. He didn’t make a sound, holding you close, his hard cock rubbing against the inside of his underwear, a patch of wetness forming as you provided the friction.

You lifted the phone slightly so it was at his shoulder, next to his head, eyes still on the screen, your breath suddenly on his neck and it took everything in Jungkook not to moan, because your breath was so warm and erotic, a feathery whimper gracing his ears as you watched him orgasm.

The video ended.

Your eyes shifted to his face.

Pupils dilated, soaked with lust.

You kissed him.

Full, on the mouth, those soft, soft lips pressed to his, inhaling him deeply. He had worn his nice cologne today, a mix of musky woods and sea breeze, and maybe you’d notice, maybe you’d want it too, on your clothes and on your skin. It seemed like it, the way you pressed against him so urgently, nestling yourself in his arms.

He drowned in the kiss, a kiss of peaches and honey.

You backed up, but only a centimeter, eyes slowly opening. He gazed into your eyes. He probably had the same expression. Uninhibited desire and longing.

“Do you… want to go somewhere that’s not the fucking library so we can talk?” you whispered against his lips quietly. Your tone was heavy with lust.

He did. Preferably somewhere with a bed.

“Yeah…”

You lowered your phone, the little devil smiling at him before it disappeared in your pocket.

Jungkook grabbed your hand. Held it tight. Took one step, then another, with you.

You smiled at him.

Not so innocent.

--

masterpost

[rainbow-spiral]

Of Course I Can

“Amandla,” Paige said, rolling her eyes, “you can’t actually do that.”

“Of course I can.”  Amandla sounded perfectly confident, and tapped her land cards one after another to lay down a monster card just as if she had been paying attention to the game and not their conversation.  “Your move.”

“No, but you can’t—actually—“

Amandla’s gaze was amused.  “You’re going to have to go ahead and say it,” she said, “if you want it.”

“Who says I want it?”

The gaze did not become any less amused.

Paige rolled her eyes again.  “It doesn’t matter if I want it or not,” she said, “because you can’t actually make me into your lesbian sex slave.”  She thought about it.  “And technically, I think it would be demisexual panromantic sex slave.”

“If you like,” Amandla said.  “I don’t suppose it matters much, so long as you’re mine.”

Paige shouldn’t feel a little flutter at the word mine.  Or should she?  Should, shouldn’t—she had gotten over enough of her childhood programming to realize that she should be able to date Amandla without a care in the world.  Childhood programming pushed back, insisting that she shouldn’t—that even dating a black person would have made her father disown her (although under some other pretext), and dating a black woman was not even to be thought of.

The first time that Amandla had started to take Paige’s shirt off, Paige broke down crying.  And kept crying when Amandla stopped instantly and asked her for an explanation, certain that she had destroyed the relationship—the only relationship she had ever actually wanted.

Which was when Amandla came up with this—wild scheme?  Whatever it was—of making Paige her sex slave.

Paige chose several flying cards and attacked.  “I would happily become your sex slave,” she said, “if it would get me out of writing an analysis of transportation economics.”

“That, I can’t do,” Amandla admitted, and pushed her blocking cards forward.  Only two points of damage got through.  Amandla was an excellent player, with a green and black deck that she had made herself.  “Now, I could make it so that finishing your economics paper was an act of service, and carries various psychological rewards for being an act of service.”  She began her turn.  “I would say that you might come to value those rewards more than you value orgasms, but I intend to be very free with the orgasms.  You deserve them.  You haven’t had enough in your life, and you deserve them.”

Paige was, in fact, uncertain whether she’d ever had an orgasm, which (according to Amandla) meant that she probably hadn’t.  “So how would you do this?” she asked.

“Sure you’re ready for it?”

“Well, not really, because it’s not going to work, but I—“  Paige sighed.  “If you could get me out of my head for even half a minute, I would kill for that, Amandla.  I don’t like this.  I don’t like this thing where we’re together but we’re not together because I can’t get my father’s voice out of my head.  I want to do all those things, I want to have sex with you, I want to hold hands in public, for heaven’s sake—“

Amandla folded her cards and came around the table.  “Shh.  Shh.  I’ll take care of you.”

Paige wiped a hand across her eyes.  “Promise?”

“I promise.”  Amandla unclasped her gold necklace.  “All right.  Focus on the pendant, here.  Watch it sparkle.  No, hold your head right there, as if you were looking at me.  Just look up with your eyes.”

“Hypnosis,” Paige said, “is lame as hell.  Can you hold that a little lower?”

“It’s best at this angle,” Amandla said.  “This pendant has a secret to it, in fact, a sort of optical trick, but you can only see it at a certain angle.  Concentrate on it, and see if you can catch it as it spins.”

“I don’t—“  Paige blinked.  “Don’t see it.  What am I looking for?”

“And as you concentrate on it,” Amandla went on, in soothing tones, “as you watch, and try to capture the exact play of light on the pendant, you may find yourself blinking a bit, and that’s fine . . .”

***

Paige had, she realized, been listening to Amandla for quite some time without registering a single thing that she said.

She startled.  “Sorry!  Sorry, miss, I think I sort of—zoned out.”

Amandla looked unaccountably smug.  “That’s the next thing we’ll fix,” she said.  “The apologizing.  How do you feel?”

“I actually feel—really good, miss,” Paige said, somewhat surprised.  “Kind of—light.  Airy.”

“Good!”  Amandla’s smile broadened.  “And is anything different?”

Oh.  Right.  Amandla had been talking about making Paige her—her—heat flooded through Paige, a sort of raw sexual surge that took her completely by surprise.  “Oh god, please let me suck on your tits, miss,” she burst out.  And then her eyes went wide.

Amandla undid her first button, very slowly, and then her second one.  “Since you ask so nicely,” she said, “you may.”

“You did it.  You actually, actually—mfff!”  Paige hadn’t realized she was going to lunge.

Her fingers went to her pussy as if pulled by a magnet, which was when she realized she wasn’t wearing a skirt anymore.  Or any underwear.

“Very good,” Amandla said, sounding far more calm than the situation warranted.  “In a little while, just sucking my tit will bring you as much pleasure as playing with yourself, but for now, I’m going to put you on a strict masturbation routine.  You’ll be able to come on command in no time.”

“Mff,” Paige repeated, eyes rolling back a little as the pleasure washed over her.

“And the best thing is, you don’t have to feel guilty for any of it.  I’m in charge of what you want, now.  If I say you want it, you want it.  Which means you don’t have to worry at all about what anyone would think, except me.  Isn’t that better?”

“Mff!” Paige agreed.

My buymeacoffee is at www.buymeacoffee.com/rainbowspiral.

[sweetyyhippyy]

Part of You. Spencer Reid x OC! Character. Chapter 17.

Chapter 17: Positive

(Not my gif)

Summary: Things haven’t been easy since Spencer’s arraignment hearing. Bridgett has been having a hard time without Spencer. When Penelope comes to check on her best friend, Bridgett realizes her timing is off.

TW: Mentions of murder. Spencer going to jail. Mentions of pills. Mentions of alcohol. Mentions of throwing up. Pregnancy. Putting pregnancy at risk.

Word Count: 3.2k.

A.N: The italicized paragraph in the beginning is a flashback..

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

It was the day...

The day of Spencer’s arraignment hearing. Nobody knew what he was going to plead, not even Bridgett… she didn’t even think Spencer knew. Once Emily got the call that the Mexican authorities had found the knife used in Nadie Ramos’ murder, everything went downhill from there. At first they were offering if Spencer pleaded guilty that he would do 5 years, if he chose to plead not guilty, he was looking at 25 years to life. Fiona gave him both of his options, but Spencer decided then and there that he was going to plead not guilty.

“Can I have a minute alone with him please?” Bridgett asked, turning to Emily and Fiona.

“Of course. We’ll both be outside.” Fiona says, grabbing her briefcase and walking out of the room with Emily behind her.

Bridgett stayed quiet, staring at Spencer, waiting for him to explain himself. His eyes stayed on the table between them, not wanting to have the conversation with his girlfriend.

“Do you know what you’re putting yourself up against by pleading not guilty? You could go to prison for a long time, Spencer. Think about all the evidence.”

“Scratch has been very thorough with making sure things don’t look good for me.”

“Yeah, and a jury isn’t going to see that you were set up. They’re going to see that all signs point to you. They don’t know Scratch like we do.”

“Do you think they’ll convict me?”

Bridgett sighs heavily, shrugging her shoulders. “I don’t know. But if you plead guilty… 5 years isn’t the worst. You can come out of prison and still have a life.”

“Yeah but not as an FBI agent. I’ll be a convicted felon.”

“But you would be free. You and I could still have a life together.” Bridgett replies, already tearing up.

“And while I do want that, you know that the FBI is where I belong.”

“But you don’t belong in prison, baby. If you want to roll the dice, and take your chances with going to trial, 25 years might as well be a life sentence.”

“If this whole thing has been orchestrated by Scratch, I know the team can get him.”

“Without a doubt we will. I know we will. But.... what if we can’t prove it this month, this year… or this decade. Spence, we can’t figure it out by tomorrow for your arraignment.” Bridgett lets out a sob.

Spencer shakes his head, sniffling and dropping eye contact with Bridgett.

“What do I do?” Spencer says, his voice straining to keep from crying.

Bridgett sighs shakily, wiping the tears from her eyes. “I don’t know, baby. I don’t know. But I’m here, okay? Whatever you decide, I’m going to be here either way.” She brings him in for a hug, letting him cry onto her shoulder.

***

The whole  team was in the front row on his side, watching as the bailiffs walked in with Spencer between them in handcuffs, walking him to the desk in front of them and helping him sit down. Bridgett was right behind him, giving him a warm smile when he turns around to look at the team.

“How do you plead, Agent Reid?”

Doctor.

“Not guilty.” He says sternly.

Bridgett’s heart jumps at his decision.

Okay… that means we’ll go to trial. But we can get through it.

Penelope held onto Bridgett’s hand while Fiona and the defense attorney went back and forth about why Spencer should and should not have bail set. At one point, both Bridgett and Penelope wanted to hop over the railing and beat the attorney up for the negative accusations he was saying against Spencer. Luke could tell Bridgett was getting agitated, but he took her other hand and gave it a squeeze of comfort. The judge was being less than understanding when Fiona offered the team as character witnesses to speak on Spencer’s behalf, not feeling “in the mood” to hear what they had to say.

“Bail is denied. Defendant will be remanded to federal custody pending trial.” She fires, banging the gavel.

Bridgett’s whole heart falls into the pit of her stomach, hearing that Spencer wouldn’t be coming home with her. She looked in horror at Spencer as he looked to her, just as scared as she was.

“How long until his case goes to trial?” Emily asks Fiona.

“It’s a complicated case. We’re looking at maybe 3 months.”

Bridgett reaches for Spencer’s hand over the railing, he takes it and pulls her in for a hug.

“I’m sorry. So sorry, Bridge.” He whispers.

“I love you. Please be careful.” She says back, trying to take in his embrace one last time, trying to commit to memory his smell and how he held her.

The two bailiffs pull Spencer back from Bridgett’s embrace, taking one of his hands behind his back. Before they get the other hand Spencer points to the top of his sternum and mouths “I’m right here.” Alluding to the necklace he gifted her years ago.

Bridgett sniffles and grabs the moon pendant and rubs it with her thumb, nodding her head.

Spencer turns around one last time as he’s being escorted out, looking at his family; lost and scared to be leaving them. After the door closes, Bridgett sobs, gripping the railing under her to keep her standing. Everyone’s worst nightmare just came true... Spencer was going to prison for something he didn’t do, and they still had no physical evidence of him being set up. Bridgett drops her head as she feels Luke grab her, bringing her in for a hug.

This isn’t really happening. He wasn’t actually going to prison. This was all just a big mistake.

“Bridge, come on, let’s go outside.” JJ says, rubbing her arm.

Bridgett lifts her head from Luke’s chest, wiping her eyes. “I need to go home. I can’t… I can’t be here.” She cries, scooting past Emily and Penelope and walking out of the courtroom.

***

Bridgett’s eyes flutter open, looking at the empty space in her next to her that Spencer always slept in when he was over. Her eyes filled with tears again as she touched the dark grey sheets next to her, feeling the tears go over the bridge of her nose and rolling onto the pillow under her head.

The muscle relaxer she had taken a few hours prior had knocked her out, it was the only way she was going to get sleep. She hugged the body pillow tight, wishing it was Spencer that she was hugging instead of the damn pillow. It had been 2 weeks since the hearing and Bridgett was going through a serious depression. She hadn’t been  back to work since the hearing, Emily said she needed time to get into the right headspace, which usually Bridgett would argue with being away from the job, but now it wasn’t a fight.

A possibility of 3 months. 3 months. 90+ days before his case went to trial. How was she going to get through 3 months without him? The prison wasn’t allowing him visitors just yet for whatever reason. Emily was hopeful that within the next week or so that they would allow them.

Finally, Bridgett grabs the throw blanket at the foot of her bed, wrapping it around herself before getting out of bed and walking into her living room. Her head felt fuzzy and dizzy as she shuffled out of her room, a definite side effect of the pills and alcohol she was consuming everyday for the past 2 weeks.

She stood in the middle of the room, closing her eyes to try to get the spinning to subside. The spinning made her feel nauseous, a bitter taste developing on her tongue, one of her queues that she was about to throw up. Bridgett hurries to the kitchen, going through her pantry to find some crackers to snack on, needing some sort of substance to fill her stomach. She chewed slowly through the saltiness of the cracker, sipping on a glass of water as she chews.

Bridgett’s phone chirps from the other side of the counter, she sees a text from Penelope.

Hey I’m less than a minute from your place, I just want to see how you’re doing.

Bridgett shuffles to the living room, opening the apartment door to wait for Penelope in the hallway. It was the first time she had been out of her apartment. Once she sees her blonde hair and the red as black patterned dress she was wearing, she half smiles, stepping back inside.

Penelope shuts the door behind her, embracing Bridgett right away. “I miss your beautiful face, Bridgy.” She says, squeezing her tightly.

“I miss you too. You know you don’t have to come check on me, right? I’m… fine.” Bridgett shrugs.

“How long have I known you?”

“10 years.”

“And don’t you think I know when you’re not okay? Your man being in prison means that you’re definitely not okay.”

Bridgett sighs, leaning back on the couch. “I feel like if I tell myself that I’m okay, at some point my mind will believe it and I’ll start being okay.”

“Eventually you will be. It’s just going to take a while. It’s been 3 weeks since the hearing, you’re still getting used to life.”

“3 weeks? It’s been 2.”

“No, it’s been 3. The hearing was on the 20th.”

“Wait, it’s really been 3 weeks?” Bridgett mumbles. She quickly sits up on the couch, trying to do math in her head, but she was already so scatterbrained at the moment that things weren’t making sense. She hops up from the couch, going to the calendar on her desk to try and figure it out.

“Bridge? Hey what’s wrong?” Penelope asks, following after her.

Bridgett puts her pointer finger up in her direction, counting the weeks for the fourth time. There was no way.

“Bridgett, what’s wrong? You look scared.”

Bridgett’s heart started to beat out of her chest as the realization sunk in that her math was spot on. She sinks down onto the chair, covering her mouth in shock.

“I’m late.” She mutters.

“Oh!” Penelope gasps, her eyes growing wide.

“I was supposed to get my period the week after Spencer got arrested, but it never came. I thought it was all the stress. It wouldn’t be the first time my period just doesn’t show because I’m stressed out because of the job. And I figured it still hadn’t come because I’m beyond stressed out, but it’s been almost 2 months since I’ve gotten it. Eventually my body is like ‘okay just give the girl her period now’.” Bridgett runs fingers through her tangled hair, her leg bouncing up and down feverishly. “Oh my god, I can’t be pregnant. Not now.”

“Yeah, probably not the best time, but it’ll be okay. You know you have all of us to support you.”

“Penelope, you don’t understand. I’ve been drinking everyday since Spencer’s hearing, taking pills to help me sleep. Oh my god, I’m an idiot. I should have known with how long it’s been since I’ve had my period. Shit.” Bridgett cusses.

“You didn’t know, Bridge. It’s not your fault.”

“Spencer and I were trying for a baby for almost a year and a half before he brought Diana to live with him. We put it on hold, but… what if now that we stopped trying, I really am pregnant?”

“Okay, here’s what I’m going to do. I’m going to go down to the drugstore down the block and get you a pregnancy test, and we’re going to find out if you’re actually pregnant before we panic, okay?” Penelope says, grabbing her purse and hurrying out the door.

Bridgett sighs, biting at the hangnail on her pointer finger. If she was pregnant, she was at least 2 maybe 3 months, but that was not likely. She hadn’t been careful with consuming alcohol, especially after the hell she had been through the past month and a half.

Bridgett being the overthinker and worst case scenario on her mind all the time type person she was, she got onto Google to ‘Risks of consuming alcohol during pregnancy’. Most of it was common knowledge, but it was almost as if her mind needed to punish her for the horrible thing she was doing to her possible child.

“You didn’t lock the door after I left?” Penelope scolds her, walking back in the door.

Bridgett turns around, sighing. “I uh… no sorry. Can I have the test?”

“Oh, yeah, I bought you this water in case but you do you. Think happy thoughts.” She says with a smile, handing her the plastic bag with the box inside.

***

“I didn’t know you and Spencer were trying for a baby.” Penelope says, sitting next to Bridgett on the couch, handing her a glass of water.

Bridgett takes a big glup, trying to focus on anything else at all. “Yeah we went through a scare about a little over a year a half ago. It came out negative but then we talked about trying. Nothing came of it… until maybe now. How much longer?”

Penelope looks at the timer on her phone, “45 seconds.”

Bridgett sighs, gnawing at the inside of her cheek. “What am I going to do if I am pregnant? I put this baby at risk by being so irresponsible.”

“You stay here, I’ll go get the test and then we’ll go from there before we panic.” Penelope says, getting up from the couch and walking to the bathroom.

Bridgett takes several deep breaths, trying not to give herself a panic attack as she waits for Penelope.

“Okay, so what we’re going to do is… uh, I have a friend who’s an OB, and we’re going to get you an ultrasound to check the baby out, okay?” Penelope says, holding a pair of Bridgett’s shoes in her hand and the test in the other.

Bridgett’s eyes grow wide, her jaw dropping. “Wait, I’m… it’s positive?”

Penelope nods her head slowly, offering the rest to her. Bridgett covers her mouth with her hand, gasping into it. The tears flow hot down her cheeks as Penelope hands her the test. She sobs as she sees the word “PREGNANT” on the screen, a cold shiver running over her body.

“Oh my god. Oh my god.” Bridgett says over and over, sniffling.

“Honey, everything is going to be okay.”

“This is my fault, Penelope! I should have known I was pregnant! And now… shit, how am I going to tell Spence?”

“We can’t worry about that right now. We need to worry about getting you to see someone to check on my future god child.”

***

“Miss Mendez?” A petite red headed lady walks into the room.

Bridgett smiles at her, still completely terrified. “Yes, you can call me Bridgett.”

“My name is Dr. Clark, I’m going to check you and your baby out, okay? Penelope said you were worried.”

“Yes, I… I went through a hard time the past month or two and I’ve been drinking and taking sleeping pills. I had no idea I was pregnant, I lost track of time and didn’t realize I was so late until today. I figured it was all the stress I’m under.”

“So what I’m going to do is first see how far along you are, and see if the baby is developing normally, the brain, heart, all the organs are developing normally as well, okay? And I’m going to tell you something, there are lots of women who don't realize they’re pregnant and drink, smoke, do a lot worse things that they shouldn’t do. You’re not the first, and you’re not the last. What matters is that now that you know you’re pregnant, you stop all of that immediately.”

Bridgett nods her head, fighting back tears. Obviously Bridgett was the biggest cry baby before pregnancy, but she couldn’t imagine how much worse it was going to be with pregnancy hormones.

The doctor squeezes a gel onto Bridgett’s belly, her body covered in goosebumps at how cold it was. Penelope was smiling from ear to ear next to Bridgett as she sees what actually looks like the shape of a baby on the monitor.

“Oh my god, Bridgy, look.” Penelope says with excitement.

Bridgett looks at the monitor in disbelief, it didn’t look like a baby, but like a large bean.

“So you’re measuring about 8, almost 9 weeks. And the measurements look spot on for where the fetus should be.”

“Oh thank god.” Bridgett says.

“With that being said, do you want to hear the heartbeat?”

“I can do that?” Bridgett asks, smiling at the doctor.

“Yes! Let me turn this on, and find it for you.”

The room is filled with a loud and fast rhythmic thumping. Bridgett’s jaw drops hearing how quickly the thumping was going.

“Healthy heartbeat.” The doctor beams.

“Oh my god.” Bridgett smiles, looking over at Penelope who was now crying too.

“Congratulations. I’m going to print some pictures for you to take home with you.”

“Thank you.” Bridgett replies, looking at the screen in awe. “That’s my baby. Mine and Spencer’s baby.”

Penelope smiles, “Baby genius on the way.”

***

Penelope and Bridgett go around her apartment, throwing away all the empty bottles of liquor that she had accumulated throughout the past few weeks, tossing them in a garbage bag.

“Can I ask you something? Are you going to tell Spencer you’re pregnant?” Penelope asks.

“Not now. I’m going to wait. I don’t want me being pregnant to be something he worries about while he’s in prison.”

“What if…”

“I don’t want to think about that. Worst case scenario, I’ll tell him before he goes to trial. I just want to be able to see him.”

“Emily told us this morning that they’re allowing visitors starting tomorrow. I took it upon myself to make a chart of who’s visiting Spencer and when, but obviously you get first priority.”

“Okay, I’ll go see him tomorrow. But I’m going to keep it to myself just for now. That means that you, Penelope Garcia, need to keep a secret. You can’t tell the team that I’m pregnant, okay?”

Penelope nods her head, crossing her heart. “I promise I’ll keep you and my future god child, a secret.”

“Thank you. We both appreciate it.” Bridgett rubs her stomach. “It’s crazy to think that I have a baby growing inside me. Even crazier to think it’s Spencer’s baby.”

“You two are going to be the best parents ever. I can’t imagine how much love this baby is going to be surrounded by.”

Bridgett smiles, getting a little emotional over the fact that her and Spencer were going to be parents. “Do you think he’s going to be happy?”

“Who, Spencer? Are you kidding? He’s going to be so excited. I’m going to get going, do you need anything?”

“No, I’m okay. Thank you so much for being here, Garcia.” Bridgett says, hugging the woman tight.

Penelope takes the garbage bags with her as she leaves the apartment, closing the door behind her.

Bridgett sits on the couch, taking the ultrasound pictures in her hand and looking at the black and white blob in the picture. Her hand drops down to her stomach, nowhere near a baby bump yet and rubs it.

“Hey in there. I’m mom.” Bridgett laughs. “Your dad is away as I’m sure you know with how much I’ve been crying over it. But you’ll meet him soon and he’s going to love you so much. I can’t wait to meet you. And I promise I’m going to take better care of you. I’m so sorry for hurting you before, but now that I know, I’m going to protect you.”

[all1e23]

Bad Habit [Prologue]

Pairings: Biker!Steve x Reader

Series warnings:  Drug use. Violence. Smut so 18+ please and thank  -- No smut this chapter. Sorry to disappoint

A/N:   I actually made it on time. I’m as surprised as you are. Just as a warning, Steve is a cocky little shit in this series and... let’s just say he loves women. Okay, that’s all I got. 

***My fics are not to be saved or posted on any other sites without my written permission. Reblogs are my jam, though! Thanks!****

It was hot. 

Grossly hot. Humid and sticky. The thin shirt you fell asleep in was stuck to your skin despite only sleeping with a sheet covering your lower half.

Why the hell was it so damn hot in your room? 

Even with your eyes closed, you could tell your fan wasn’t on thanks to the absence of the soft hums it filled your room with. You must have turned it off by accident.  It was unusually warm for this time of the year, and that was when you remembered. You went out last night. This wasn’t your bed, and you weren’t alone. Flashes from the previous night worked their way through the pounding in your head, and you cringed. The bar. Natasha’s place. All those shots. Steve. It was your get over Billy party, and apparently, you decided to get over him by getting under someone else. One-night stands aside; you had to get out of this bed before you melted. You could feel the source of all that heat wrapped securely around your waist. It seemed as though Steve was still warming your skin. 

You’d think after everything he’d be all out of heat. 

You slowly blinked your eyes open to find the man in question lying on his side next, pretty lashes splayed out on his cheeks and breathing steadily. His beard alone was enough to make your knees shake but mix that with that long blond hair, and it was no wonder you ended up in his bed. You tucked a stray strand of hair behind his ear and found yourself grinning when his brow wrinkled, and his arm tightened around you. 

It’s unfair how pretty he is. 

Of course, he was covered ink, too. He wouldn’t be your type if he wasn’t covered in tattoos and ready to break your heart without a second thought. Your eyes follow the black lines that started on his shoulder and worked their way down his arm. A large eagle with its wingspread sits on his shoulder, falling down to his bicep, where it meets a skull covered in smoke from the flame of a candle sitting his wrist. You could spend all day lying in bed watching him like this, tracing all that ink with your fingers. Maybe your tongue. It would depend on how much time you had to get to know him.

As much as you’d like to see more of him, you’re out of time. 

It was a shame you had to leave before he woke up. You wouldn’t mind getting to know more than just his name, and that was exactly why you needed to leave. You promised yourself, no more men like the last. You slowly untangle yourself, gently pushing the thick arm around your waist off and onto the mattress. It took longer than you hoped to find your clothes in the mess on the floor. You toss a pair of dark jeans onto the dresser, a white t-shirt thrown over that pretty leather resting on the chair, and quietly kicked a pair of boots to the side. 

From the look of things, he kept his room rather clean and organized -- not counting the mess you both made last night. That had not been your experience dealing with men like him. Your best friend’s husband was the vice president of some club, and he would fall apart without Natasha, though, Bucky was the exception. He was kind and soft under all that gruff. Your ex-boyfriend, on the other hand, the sweet was all an act. He wasn’t exactly dirty, but he didn’t play fair either. 

“Where’s the fire? You have somewhere you need to be bright and early?” 

Steve’s voice made you pause. Only for a moment. You had been so wrapped up in your head you’d hadn’t heard him moving around. You peeked over your shoulder, smirking at the confusion on his face and slipped on your boots from the night before. Black high heel ankle boots aren’t really the best Sunday morning attire, but you hadn’t thought to bring a morning-after outfit when you left the house last night. This wasn’t exactly how you thought the evening would go. You hadn’t counted on Steve charming you right out of your panties and certainly hadn’t planned to stay the night once they were back on. You don’t know what happened. He went all soft on you, and you couldn’t leave him.

That had been a mistake. A delicious mistake you quickly needed to rectify.

“Yeah, anywhere but a dirty ass biker club at eight in the morning.”

You needed to get away from him before you get hurt because men like Steve  always led to hurt, and from the look in his eyes, you didn’t think he was going to let you go so easily. 

Steve chuckled, and it made you grin. He thought you were funny. You liked that. Stop. Don’t even go there, your brain hissed at you.  Before you could make a break for the door, Steve swung his feet off the side of the bed, letting the dark blue sheet slide off him and onto the floor. Well, it looked like neither of you got dressed before bed. Why didn’t you remember that tattoo his lower abs? Your eyes traveled up to his, and the sultry smirk on his face was almost enough to get you to stay. 

“Let me take you to breakfast then,” Steve suggested, obviously realizing you had no intention of hanging around this morning.

Probably wasn’t that hard to gather by your frantic digging as you searched for your phone and purse. Ah! Found them! You tugged them out from under his leather and slipped your bag over your head, letting the strap settle across your chest. Steve was still on the edge of the best, but he was slipping his boxers on, and you knew he was going to get dressed and try to take you to breakfast. If he begged with those pretty eyes? You would be done for and having this man know any more about you was the last thing you needed 

You stood between his legs and cupped face, laying a few kisses on his lips before he could get a word in.

“Thanks,” You murmured between gentle pecks. “But no thanks. I’ve got to go.” 

“Can I at least get your number? Or maybe your name? Something to remember the woman that rode out of here with my heart.” 

You couldn’t help but grin at the stupid lopsided smile he was wearing. He was shooting for charming, missed by a mile, and somehow you still ended up with that dumb fluttery feeling in your chest. You’ve got to get away from this man before he steals what’s left of your heart and breaks that too. You slipped off your necklace, the one that Wanda gave you when you were kids. It wasn’t anything expensive. She got it at a pawn shop when you were teens, and you’ve kept it all this time. It was a simple round gold pendant with the northern star in the middle. So you could find your way, Wanda had said. You supposed it was time to find your own path without the help of childish whims. You slide it over his head and give a tug to the pendant to center it over his chest. 

It looked good on him; you had to admit. 

“There. A little piece of me to keep with you.”  

You pressed another kiss to his cheek.  You were going to miss the way his beard felt against your lips. 

“If you ever wanna go for another ride, you know where to find me, firecracker.” 

Something about the way he smiled when he said ride gave you the impression he wasn’t talking about his bike, but that nickname had you grinning and stealing one more kiss before you hit the road. Why did he have to be so damn cute? He straight out of a storybook or something; if princes wore leather and had blood on their hands. Out of all the men you could have picked to fool around with, you had to find the only one with half a heart. Didn’t mean it was the right half, of course.  Steve reached up to pull you back down for another kiss, maybe a half-ass attempt for something more, but you didn’t have time for either. You moved away just in time and strode towards the door. 

You were going to make sure this fairy-tale was over before it ever got started.

“See you ‘round, Charming.”  

The door closed behind you, and Steve flopped back on the bed with a huff, running a hand over his face. He had no idea what the hell just happened: last night or this morning. One thing was clear; you were running. From what he didn’t know, but you were running from something or someone. Steve had a feeling if he wanted to see you again; it wouldn’t be an easy road. Did he want to see you again? 

Shit. Yeah, he did want to see you again. Desperately.  

“Ah, fuck,” Steve said with a chuckle and slapped his hand over his chest, clutching the cool metal of your necklace in his hand. He was a goner. He was completely hooked on you, and all he’s had is a taste. 

As sweet as it was, he wanted more. 

Steve wouldn’t sleep till he did. His head was filled with all those pretty sounds you made for him, and all those delicious images of you writhing in his arms would be burned into his memory forever. You looked so damn pretty on his lap, panting and begging for more. He’d like to give you more if you’d let him, that was gonna be a hard road, too, he suspected. Despite your rush to get away from him this morning, there was something about you Steve couldn’t quite shake. He was addicted, and he didn’t even know your name, but if there was a chance you were feeling what he was feeling, then he was going to take it. 

All he had to do now was figure out who the hell you were. 

Masterlist // Next 

[fixxofvixx]

Stay With Me - Demon Leo AU - Chapter 27

Hello!! I finished a chapter! Woohoo!!! Haha it feels like it's been forever!! I'm posting this just before I go into work so I hope you all enjoy it and I will check for replies after I finish!

Please let me know what you think!!!💖💖

😈😈😈😈😈😈

Try as you might, getting up the next morning was difficult.  When you opened your eyes, Leo was gone.  Your hand went to the empty spot where he should have been and instead found a feather, black with a red tip.  Smiling, you picked up the feather and brought it closer.  You rose up, painfully, and took a look at yourself.  You had been fully clothed and suspected that Leo had worked his magic before leaving.  

It took you almost 20 minutes to get out of bed, walk to the bathroom, and finish getting ready.  You managed to put your hair into a loose bun and, as a finishing touch, attached Leo's feather to the hair tie.  

You desperately wanted to crawl back into bed but you wanted food.  You hoped Leo had placed something in the kitchen for you.  Otherwise, you'd be at the mercy of the fruit basket on the table.  

Once you reached the living room, you spotted Sabina pacing right inside the large glass windows.  

"Hello, Sabina."

*Oh good, you're awake.*  The lynx turned to you and then stopped.  She chuffed and moved closer to you.

*Staking your claim?*

"What do you mean?"

*The feather….*

"Oh!  Um….well, it was a gift so what better way than to accessorize?"  You reached for the pendant at your neck and held it up for Sabina to see.

*You people are so strange.*

You shrugged your shoulders and went towards the kitchen.  

"Have you seen Leo?"

*He went outside earlier and let me in.  He said something about the wolves.*

You thought for a minute and then you remembered what you'd said about the wolves hating you now.  Did he go to talk to them?  You felt a little sadness because you wanted to see them for yourself and make sure that they still liked you.

You thankfully found enough food to make some toast with jam.  You had only mentioned to Leo that you liked jam and suddenly every flavor was displayed on the counter.  

You had just swallowed the last bit of toast in your mouth when Leo appeared in front of you, causing you to scream.

"Leo!"  The look on his face told you that he was amused at your obvious surprise.

"Sorry."

"No, you're not but I supposed I should be used to you doing that."

"I like to keep you on your toes….almost as much as I like keeping you on your back."  He smiled sinfully and leaned forward for a kiss.  His words caused a pink blush to spread over your cheeks.  When he pulled away, you couldn't do anything but smile.  

"Devil."

"Almost...just a demon."  He winked and you rolled your eyes. 

*I'm going outside to throw up if you need me.*

Leo also noticed Sabina leaving and snapped his fingers as she went out the door.  A light thud hit the porch and you looked at Leo, concerned.  He shook his head and smiled.

"Sabina must have found her snack." 

"You're a total pushover when it comes to animals, aren't you?"

"It was a reciprocal agreement.  She watches over you and I give her snacks."

"If you say so."

"Did you sleep well?"  Leo usually changed the subject when you mentioned his soft-heartedness.  

You nodded before leaning your body against his and humming in satisfaction.  You had always wanted a simple life with someone to share it with.  You were in bliss.

"Sore?"

"Mmm...exquisitely so."  He laughed at your content words.  His hand found the small of your back and kept it there until the sore muscles eased away.  

His actions only caused you to melt into him further. 

"Better?"  You nodded and his hand started roaming.  "Anywhere else?"

"No, everything is fine."  You wrapped your arms around his waist and squeezed.  His hand came up to wrap around the back of your neck and then stopped.  

"I see you got my present."  His fingers touched the feather hanging from your hair tie.

"Yes, I did.  Thank you.  Are you sure it's okay to take out another feather?"  You leaned back and asked.  He said it didn't hurt to pull one out but was it really okay?

"They grow back, silly girl." He tugged on your earlobe and you shook your head to break free.

"But--"

Your protest was cut off with his lips covering yours.  You immediately lost all of your anxiety on the subject and pulled him closer.  He moved forward and soon your back hit the wall.  You held on tight with your arms around his neck.  His fingers buried themselves in your hair as you pulled him closer.  You couldn't get enough of him.  His tongue moved slowly against yours and you stood on trembling legs.  

He pulled away suddenly and you groaned in protest without thinking.  He smiled at your expression and gave you one more short kiss.

"Why did you stop?"  You pouted for a moment and then looked up at him.

"The wolves are close by and I thought you might want to see them."

"Really?"

"Yes, I talked to them this morning and they agreed that what you had was a horrible dream as they would never reject you.  Even their youngest offspring know of your existence."  He smoothed away a strand of hair from your face and then teleported you both into the forest.

You stepped away from Leo to see several wolves gathered around.  From the looks of it, Leo had brought you to the north side of the forest which was close to the village.  The wolves tended to patrol the borders during this time.   You smiled nervously and then froze when the alpha came forward.  Visions of your dream that had seemed all too real flashed in your mind.  

He moved forward until he was directly in front of you.  He suddenly bowed and you gasped.  You turned to Leo but he just smiled.

"He says that he apologizes for appearing in your dream and scaring you.  Also, he wants you to know that you never have anything to fear from the wolves."

Your heart sank knowing that the alpha was apologizing.  You went to your knees and held out your hand.  The large wolf raised his head and came closer.  He nuzzled your hand and you smiled.

"Please don't apologize.  It wasn't your fault.  You can't control what I dream about, right?  I'm honored that you came all the way here."

 

Just then, Leo laughed at something the alpha must have said and he nodded his head.

"Yes, I will."  

You looked at Leo and silently questioned him.  

"He told me to make sure and keep you.  I intend to."  He crossed his arms over his chest and smiled.  

Without warning one of the older puppy came bounding towards you and sat at your feet.   He was part of the offspring that were born when you had first begun to stay in the forest.

"Well, hello."  You squatted down and scratched the back of his head.  The alpha made a sound and the pup instantly stood at attention in front of you.  Like the alpha, he bowed his head.  

The alpha raised his head to look at Leo and he nodded.  Leo came forward and put one hand on the back of your neck and the other on the young wolf before you.

*Y/N, I have been given the honor to become your guardian.  As one of the keepers of this forest, you are under the absolute protection of the Wolf Guard.  I will do my best to protect you and become a loyal companion.  In order for the pledge to be complete, I require that you give me a name.*

You stared at the wolf, completely aghast at what had just happened.  You looked at Leo and he just nodded.

"It's your choice."

"D-Do you have one too?"

"Of course, I have the alpha."  In response, the alpha bowed and then stood proudly.  

"Oh...um,"  You looked back at the young wolf in front of you and thought for a moment.

*In the case that you are unwilling, that is also acceptable.  You will still be protected by the Guard.*

You smiled at the wolf, amazed at how his voice seemed so melodic and comforting.  

"How about Danté?"

*Yes?*

"Is that a suitable name for a guardian?"

*Of course, my lady.*

You blushed at Danté's reverence.  You thought anyone would call you that.  He bowed and you felt a rush of wind surge through the forest.  Leo removed his hand from you both and stood.

"I trust you will guard her well, Danté."

*With pride.*

You gasped lightly when you realized you could hear him.  

"I can hear you without Leo?"

*Yes, my lady.  It makes it easier to call upon me when you need me.*

"Just Y/N, please.  I-I don't think I could ever get used to anyone calling me that."

*If you wish it.*

You started to reach your hand out to Danté again but Leo suddenly grabbed you around the waist and hauled you up against him.

"Leo! What--"

"Several humans just crossed the border to the forest."  Leo looked at the wolves.  "Take your pups back to safety, I'll check it out."

The wolves moved immediately and rushed into the forest.  You stayed next to Leo as he looked around for any intruders.

"What could they be doing in the--ahh!"  You screamed when Leo's arm shot out and stopped an arrow just before it pierced your skull.  Leo pushed you behind him as a few villagers stepped through the trees and approached slowly, bows drawn.

"Step aside, demon.  We will rid you of the witch that has threatened the forest and the village."

[echotrinityme]

Regretful Chapter 9: Let Me Love You

After Rupert's outburst, his and Henry's relationship has been strained. Henry was avoiding Rupert at all cost, and that hurt Rupert. Rupert tried to call or text him but received no response. Everytime he saw Henry in the base, Henry would immediately bolt to a different direction.

Rupert felt so much guilt and regret for blowing up at him, he didn't mean the words he said about Henry. He was angry at the fact that Calvin kissed him and it wasn't him that was doing that to him. He either spent training or in his tent, away from everyone else to brood or contemplate his life choices.

One day while in his tent, he was sitting on his bed, playing with his pocketknife when Victoria walked in. She smiled at him and he smiled back but didn't reach his eyes, she sat next to him and patted his back to comfort him.

"How are you doing?" she asked, softly.

"Terrible." replied Rupert, lowly.

"I can tell."

"I feel so guilty. And I know I deserved it but I didn't mean to hurt him."

"Have you tried to explain?"

"Yeah but he wouldn't listen."

Rupert put down his pocketknife and put his hat down to hide his face, he was trying hard not to cry. Victoria felt pity and sadness for him, she knew Rupert felt guilty about hurting Henry. He said those things in a fit of repressed anger cause of Charles' death. She also knew Rupert and Henry were the ones that Charles' death hit the most.

"Hey, it will be all right." reassured Victoria, gently.

"How?" questioned Rupert, his tone still low.

"Henry can't stay mad at you, forever."

"Yeah, I guess."

Rupert sighed heavily and lifted his head to look at Victoria, "But this wouldn't have happened if I wasn't so jealous."

Victoria on the outside looked surprised but on the inside she was not, she had suspected Rupert was jealous and now her suspicions are now confirmed.

"Do you love Henry?" asked Victoria, gingerly.

"Uh...I." replied Rupert, hesitantly.

"Do your days feel better when with him?"

"Yes."

"Are you attractive to him?"

"Yes."

"Do you fantasize about him?"

"Ye-What the fuck, Victoria!?"

Victoria laughed at Rupert's reaction whose face was red in embarrassment, he never expected Victoria to ask that question. Yes, he fantasize about Henry...a lot. It also didn't help he had wet dreams about him which made him more red.

"Quit it." muttered Rupert.

"I'm sorry, it's just so funny to see your reaction." giggled Victoria.

"Please, don't tell anyone about this." pleaded Rupert.

"I promise."

"Ok."

They both stopped talking and just sat silently. Rupert exhaled sharply and he got out his phone to check his notifications, still no word from Henry. He groaned in frustration and he got up, startling Victoria in the process. He went to the entrance of his tent but Victoria stopped him.

"Where are you going?" she asked.

"Out." replied Rupert, tone clipped.

"Ok. Will you be okay?"

"Yeah."

Victoria let Rupert go but after a moment, she forget to mention to him about her mission to get him and Henry together.

Rupert was walking out the base and as he was walking, he stumbled onto the town that was near the base. He was walking around the town when he spotted a jewelry store, he peeked at the window and saw a black choker with a blue sapphire jewel at the center. It was so beautiful and perfect for Henry.

He contemplated for a moment, he misses Henry and he wants him back. He made a decision and went inside the store.

Meanwhile with Henry, he was in his bedroom crying and hugging himself. He was laying down and staring up at his ceiling, his head pounded and his eyes stung from the excessive sobbing. He groaned in sadness and got up to go get aspirin, he went to the bathroom to get the pills.

Henry's POV

My head hurts, I feel like crap. I'm tired of crying and I hate feeling vulnerable.

I thought my heart couldn't get more broken but I was wrong. Ever since Rupert's anger outburst, I had been avoiding him. I even been ignoring his texts and calls, I can't face him...not now.

I took the aspirin and went back to my bed, I lay back down again and stared up at my ceiling. I sighed sadly and began to close my eyes until I heard a knock on my door. I groaned in anger and went to answer the door, when I opened my door and saw the last person I want to see right now.

It was Rupert.

Rupert's POV

After I went to the jewelry store, I headed back to the base. I held an item in my right hand and put in my pocket.

Once I got back to the base, I waved to a couple of people and took out my phone to try to contact him again but decided to just go ever to his place.

I headed over to his place quickly and ascended the stairs to his apartment door, I knocked on the door and waited like a minute when he opened the door.

He did not look happy to see me...not that I don't blame him.

No One's POV  

Henry stared at Rupert for a moment and glared at him, before he can shut the door on him, Rupert stopped him with his hand and boot on the door. He gave Henry a pleading look, he needed to talk to Henry.

Henry saw the sadness and remorseful on Rupert's face, Henry felt pity but was still angry and heartbroken at him. Henry contemplated for a few minutes and decided to let Rupert in, he led Rupert to his couch and they both sat on the couch.

There was a heavy silence and the tension was so thick, you can cut it with a knife. Henry refused to look at Rupert while Rupert kept staring at him, he knew he screwed up badly. Rupert cleared his throat and Henry glanced at him blankly.

"I'm sorry for hurting you." started Rupert, his voice wavered. "I didn't mean to hurt you like that."

Henry was listening and observing Rupert's body language, he was trembling, he was clutching his fists, and trying hard not to cry.

"I took my grief out on you." he continued. "It's not your fault that Charles is dead."

"But..." spoke Henry, softly. He was finally using his voice, making Rupert's eyes widened.

"Oi." said Rupert, gently. He grabbed Henry to hug him before Henry can protest. "It's not your fault, it's the Toppats."

Henry leaned into Rupert's chest and he began to sob, Rupert hugged him tightly while he cried. Rupert felt his eyes blurred with tears and he also started sobbing.

They kept on hugging and sobbing, Rupert was whispering apologizes to Henry and whispering comfort words.

They both ceased sobbing and they both wiped their eyes. They both sighed heavily, Rupert cleared his throat making Henry look at him.

"Are ya ok? Are ya still mad at me?" asked Rupert, softly and gently.

"Yeah and no, I'm not mad at you." replied Henry.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"But I hurt you, real badly."

"It's fine...I don't blame you. You're just grieving like I am."

While Henry was talking, Rupert was listening to his voice. He never realized that Henry's voice was so...soothing.

Henry was never a talker, he has selective mutsim and prefer using sigh language to talk. However, he opened up and began to talk more.

"Yeah." said Rupert. He needed to tell Henry why he was angry in the first place.

"Oi, there's an another reason why I blew up at you."

"Oh, what is it?"

Rupert turned away from Henry, he was nervous about telling him the truth. Henry noticed Rupert's anxious state and raised an eyebrow at him.

"I...was...jealous." mumbled Rupert.

"What?" said Henry, quizzically.

"I was jealous." replied Rupert, firmly.

"Jealous? Of who or what?"

"I was jealous of Calvin for kissing you."

Henry was confused for a moment until he felt his face became warm, Rupert's face also became warm. It's now or never, he supposed.

"I have feelings for you." admitted Rupert, softly.

"Oh."

Henry bowed his head down, not letting Rupert see his red face. Rupert mistakenly took that as a rejection, "It's ok, if you don't feel the way same way." said Rupert, sadly.

"I still want to be friends with you." he continued. "It's fine."

Rupert was rambling until he felt a hand on his cheek, he turned to see Henry looking at him and smiled.

"I have feelings for you, too." whispered Henry.

Before Rupert can say anything, Henry leaned forward and kissed him. Rupert's eyes widened but pretty soon, he closed his eyes and kissed him back.

Henry's hand was still on Rupert's cheek and Rupert wrapped his arms around Henry's waist. They kept kissing until they stopped to breathe, then they went back to kissing.

Their tongues fought for dominance while they both moaned in pleasure, Henry wrapped his arms around Rupert's neck and started to play with his black, spiky hair until a noise interrupted their make out session.

Rupert growled in frustration and Henry whined from the absence of Rupert's lips. They both turned to find the source of the noise is from Rupert's phone.

Rupert checked it and he sighed in annoyance, it was Victoria who needed to talk to him about something.

"Ugh, I gotta go." said Rupert, still annoyed. "Victoria needs me for something."

"Ok." replied Henry, sadly. "I'll see you around?"

"Yeah."

Rupert got up to leave but almost forgot something, "Hey, I want to give you something."

"What is it?"

"Close your eyes."

Henry did as he was told, while his eyes were closed, he felt something being tied around his neck.

"All done." said Rupert, happily. "Go look in a mirror."

Henry opened his eyes in confusion and went to a mirror, he gasped as he saw a beautiful choker with a sapphire pendant in the middle.

"Do you like it?" asked Rupert, shyly.

"I love it." replied Henry, breathlessly.

He went to hug Rupert and he kissed him on the cheek, making Rupert blushed in the process.

They both said their goodbyes and they both had never felt so much happiness in a while now. A/N: I was gonna write smut in this chapter but decided to write in the next chapter.

[liannyeong]

Crimson (Chapter 5)

Summary: Yujin attempts to escape the mansion.

Word count: 3272

Pairing: Jaebeom X OC

Warning(s): None

Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16

A/N: An even longer chapter now... Whoops. As always, you can show your support by buying me a coffee! Follow me on Twitter for updates ~ See you next week!

No, Yujin tells herself, there is no way I will stay here any longer.

Sure, Jaebeom has informed her all the details regarding the wedding. But can she fully believe his words? What if there’s other things she doesn’t know? What if they're hiding something from her? What if everything Jaebeom said is a huge lie?

Yujin supposes those things can be pardoned, except for one: the fae oath. The fae oath that requires her life as a guarantee. Performing a fae oath will put her life at a cost. Her life will always be at risk. Furthermore, the fae oath will have her tied down to Jaebeom for eternity. There is no way she wants that.

There is no time to waste. She has to act soon.

When night falls, Yujin lays in bed and waits. She keeps herself very still, as if afraid that the slightest creak of her bed will be amplified down the halls. She remains attentive, ears open for any single sound.

An owl hoots and that's the signal for her to move. Everyone would be fast asleep by now. Yujin tiptoes to the balcony and climbs over the railing. She makes her way down the walls with bare hands, careful with each step so as to not get her limbs tangled with the vines. She’s thankful to be given the room on the second floor, so it wasn't a tiring descent. She’s even more grateful to be at the most secluded room, for no one would be able to spot her at all. She lands safely on her feet, muffled, then sneaks her way out of the mansion grounds.

The moment her feet step into the forest, Yujin speeds off. She goes as far as her legs could carry her, as much as her lungs could take. There is no way she will stay in the mansion forever. There is no way she will live her life as someone else's bride. Even though she can barely see a thing, she heads straight ahead. She nearly stumbles over, almost tripping on her own dress. So she forcefully tears the skirt from her knees down. It’ll be much easier to run like this.

Yujin continues pushing on, not once looking back. Adrenaline pumps through her veins, her steps not faltering. She desperately hopes that she'll emerge out of the forest, into the familiar town. Perhaps by some miracle, there'll be a traveller at this hour, from whom she can get a ride to her own home.

But suddenly, Yujin is knocked backwards, her whole body falling onto the bed of moss and fallen leaves. She groans in pain.

"Going somewhere?" asks a familiar voice, low and deep. Yujin freezes in shock. How did he know? The male fae looms over her, his glowing eyes a contrast to the pitch black forest. It sends shivers down her spine. His eyes trail down her body, as if she's a prey.

Yujin swallows a lump in her throat, mouth feeling dry. Maybe it's because of all that running. Or maybe, she's just scared of her wits. She sees the fae coming closer, then crouching before her. She can’t see what he’s doing, but she hears the rustling of a fabric in the dark.

"I--" Yujin's mind is reeling. She needs to think of something. And quick. "I just--"

She feels a cool material draped over her lap. What?

“Your skirt is torn,” Jaebeom simply states. “It’s not befitting for my betrothed to wear tattered clothes.”

“I-- I’m sorry I--” Yujin stumbles on her words.

"Where were you going?" Jaebeom asks straightforwardly, eyes looking straight into hers.

“I was--” An idea strikes in her mind. Almost immediately, Yujin forces tears in her eyes, letting her shoulders slump. "I just miss my old house. I wanted to go back for a while and come back..."

The Fire fae hums. His eyes are gentle now, and she’s certain he believed her words. "You could have told me."

"I didn't want to trouble you... You were already busy with the wedding and I just-- It just doesn't seem right of me to burden you with my trivial request..."

The Fire fae brushes a knuckle against Yujin's cheek. He uses his thumb to wipe off the tears that rolled down her face. She can’t see, but she’s sure that he’s wearing a warm smile on his lips.

"Nothing you ask will ever be a burden to me," he mutters softly, like a promise that is to be shared between just the two of them. Then, he slips his arms beneath her body -- one below her knees, another around her shoulders -- before lifting her up easily. Yujin herself is surprised by how her body snugly fits in his hold, how close she is to his sturdy chest. She can smell his scent more strongly in this position and something about it has an effect on her. Her breathing easily evens out, she realizes.

"I told you before and I will tell you again, Yujin. Anything you ever need, I'll make sure it's taken care of," he gently reminds. He holds her closer and leans his head towards hers.

"Hold tight. I'll take you there," he whispers to her ear.

There's a whirring sound all around her and the next thing Yujin knows, the forest just spirals away. It happens in a matter of seconds -- or even less than that -- because in a blink of an eye, they’re standing in her old room.

Emotions hit her all at once. This place is the only familiarity she has. It's the only place she can truly be herself, the only place she truly belongs. How long has she been away, that she feels like this? Just a few days ago, she was all alone in this house, minding her own things, until a certain fae appeared in front of her.

"Could you... leave me for a moment?" Yujin croaks, a lump in her throat, a few moments after Jaebeom sets her down. She keeps her back on him, avoiding any eye contact.

"Sure," he replies. "Take your time. I'll wait."

Out of the corner of her eye, she sees the fae leaving her room, then a click of the door. Yujin exhales deeply, trying to relax herself. She hadn't expected to feel so many things when she stepped in here. She thought there wouldn't be any difference. Looking around, the room has collected dust in her absence. The windows were left open, her bed unmade.

What can she do now? Her attempt to escape the mansion is now foiled. She will have to return to the mansion with Jaebeom. Is there truly nothing she can do? Will she be able to change her fate?

Yujin's eyes land on her wardrobe. The dagger!, her mind recalls. She can retrieve the silver dagger without Jaebeom knowing anything about it!

Hastily, she pulls open the wardrobe doors and searches for the weapon. It's hidden beneath piles of clothes that she rarely wears. It's still wrapped in leather, and Yujin unsheathes it a little just to take a peek that she's gotten the right object.

Wait, there’s only the two of us in this house, her mind whispers. Realization dawns on her. She can just end it right here, right now!

A silver dagger to the heart will kill a fae instantly, was what her father told her. Yujin will just need to aim for Jaebeom’s chest! But how will she do it without him knowing? Can she creep behind him and stab him? She’s not even sure.

Whenever the opportunity arises, she decides. So Yujin ties the dagger around her right thigh with a loose fabric that she found laying around. Albeit torn, her skirt has just enough length to hide the weapon.

Yujin grabs a bag from her drawer and stuffs her favorite dresses for good measure. She then pads to the dressing table and grabs a hair clip that her father gifted her, just to remember him. A silver pendant at the corner catches her attention. She clicks it open and there, staring back at her, are her parents. Her mother was a beautiful woman -- her hair is long and wavy, her smile is warm and gentle. Sadly, Yujin only knows her mother through her father's stories. In the photograph too, her father has his arm wrapped around her shoulder, his lips curled into the widest smile. Yujin doesn’t remember a time when he wore such an expression in front of her.

Deciding that she has all that she needs, Yujin exits the room. She spots Jaebeom at the dining table below, seemingly staring into space. She moves quietly, eyes not once looking away from the fae. He doesn't even react when Yujin reaches the bottom of the stairs.

Perhaps this is a good chance! Her mind supplies.

She creeps closer, and very carefully, Yujin slips her hand to her thigh. She curls her fingers around the grip of the dagger, ready to unsheath it. She holds her breath when she’s a few steps away, slowly sliding the weapon out--

The wooden floor creaks, snapping Jaebeom from his reverie. He turns, and Yujin quickly lets go of the dagger, letting her hand drop by her side.

“Hey,” she says, forcing a smile, pretending as if she didn’t just try to kill him. "I hope you don't mind me bringing back some of my things to the mansion.” She holds up her bag.

"You can bring whatever you wish," Jaebeom assures. "Are you ready?"

Yujin nods. She notices how the male fae takes one last glance at the dining table and the living room just ahead. Weird, she thinks. Why does he seem oddly nostalgic of this place?

"Let's go back." The Fire fae winds an arm around Yujin's waist. She hopes he doesn’t feel the dagger pressing against his leg. This time, she can see the black smoke surrounding them in a circle. The loud noise can be heard in her ears again, then the whirling sensation as they disappear from the house before reappearing in front of her room door.

Yujin tries to break apart from Jaebeom, but the male pulls her into a hug, much to her surprise. She can't explain it but his touch feels nice, her own body relaxing against his. For some reason though, she has an inkling that Jaebeom needed some form of comfort himself. He buries his face into the crook of her neck and inhales deeply. She wonders if something happened to him...

The fae finally pulls away, but he places his hand on her face. He rubs the pad of his thumb against her cheek, eyes full of fondness.

"Don't hesitate to ask me for anything next time, alright?" he reminds. His hand goes to cup the back of her head and he leans forward. Yujin shuts her eyes tight, afraid that he will do something to her--

Then, she feels something bumping her forehead gently. Taking a peek, Yujin sees Jaebeom upclose, nearly in a cross-eyed fashion, his own eyes closed. He has their forehead pressed together. His eyes flutter open, and the red glow of it is especially mesmerizing this time, as he whispers, "Good night."

He lets go and gestures for the female to go in. Yujin nods at him, rather blanking out, before stepping into her room. The door clicks shut behind her and only then did she let out a sigh of relief. She dumps her bag onto the floor at the foot of the bed before throwing herself onto the soft mattress.

Why does her heart feel unsettled, she doesn't understand. All she can think about is the warmth of Jaebeom's body against hers, his deep voice, and his red eyes. Burying her head beneath her pillows, she tries to shake it off but her mind is plagued with thoughts of the Fire fae. It's the only thing she thinks of, even as she goes to sleep.

---

Three days before the wedding, Yujin starts feeling anxious, pacing back and forth in her room. How will she now escape this place? She can’t seem to think of any other way, apart from using the dagger. Even so, how will she use it? When will be the right moment to attack him?

Well, it’s not as if she can do it now anyway. She hasn’t seen the fae around since that night. It’s been a week, and she doesn’t even know where he’s gone off to. Jinyoung was the one who came to her and explained rather ambiguously that Jaebeom is occupied with matters pertaining to the wedding. Deep down, though, Yujin suspects that it's a lie.

“Why won’t he let me help out with the wedding if he’s that busy?” Yujin argues, sorting a new collection of books into the empty bookshelves. Who would have thought that such a huge library still has room for more books? She swears that it was all filled when she browsed down the aisles a few days ago.

Jinyoung looks at her with an amused expression. A tentacle made of water is holding up a volume of books behind him, having been conjured by the Water fae himself. He grabs one of the books and slots them into the bookshelf. “Why, do you miss his presence so much?”

She flounders, taken aback. “I’m definitely not--!”

Her reaction has Jinyoung laughing out loud, the skin around his eyes crinkling. For some reason, an image of a cute rabbit crosses her mind. No, he’s definitely not a cute rabbit.

Over the course of a week, they’ve gotten familiar with each other to have a friendly banter. While Jaebeom always exudes a kind of tensed aura, Jinyoung is more relaxed. It’s probably because the other fae has a wedding to worry about, Yujin muses. Nevertheless, there’s something about Jinyoung that makes him seem dependable. Trustworthy even.

Now, now, Yujin, she reminds herself, let’s not get swayed.

“Jaebeom wishes to make it easy for you,” the fae says afterwards, when he’s done laughing. “He wants you to enjoy your time here as much as possible.”

Yujin scoffs. “Yeah, sure. What can I even do here apart from reading all these books?”

If not for Yujin’s insistence and Jaebeom’s absence, Jinyoung wouldn’t have let her help with the books. If Jaebeom finds out, Yujin is certain Jinyoung might not even see the light of day.

“You must know that Jaebeom has gotten these new ones for you.”

She groans. “Yeah, I read all day every day, nothing else,” her words full of sarcasm, earning a chuckle from the Water fae.

“He cares for you. I have never seen him like this before,” Jinyoung says. “All of us joked that his heart is made of iron. But ever since you came here, he’s all… soft. It’s nice, to be honest.”

Yujin keeps herself mum, feeling rather uncomfortable. Something about it doesn’t sit well with her.

“Say, Jinyoung,” she calls, trying to divert the topic, “how are you and Jaebeom related?”

Jinyoung is not fazed. If he notices her intention, he doesn’t mention it. He continues to arrange the books as he answers, “We share the same father, making us half-brothers. My parents had an arranged marriage, but he married Jaebeom’s mother in secret.”

“Then your eyes--?”

“My parents were Water faes, but Jaebeom’s mother was a Fire fae.” Seeing Yujin’s frown, the fae explains, “That makes him a halfling, though he dislikes being called that.”

“Is it bad being a halfling?”

Jinyoung purses his lips. He turns his body fully to face Yujin, stopping his work. “The strength of a fae depends on the purity of their blood. The purer the blood, the stronger the fae. In Jaebeom’s case, his powers are diminished because he has both Fire and Water blood in him. While other Fire faes can manipulate and project great flames, Jaebeom can’t. He can only control small fires like candles, nothing more.”

Yujin has only seen Jaebeom toying with the candles and the fireplace. She must admit, she did think that was cool. If that is not a fae’s fullest capability, she can’t imagine how powerful a pure-blooded fae would be.

“Because of this, faes see halflings as crippled, weak and a disgrace,” Jinyoung goes on further, letting out a sigh afterwards. He murmurs, “Coupled with the fact that our father was a royal fae...”

Yujin heard that sentence loud and clear. “What?”

“Our father was the advisor to the King of the Water court. We used to live in the palace together, though Jaebeom was hidden away from the eyes of the faefolk. When word got out that our father has a halfling son…” Jinyoung shakes his head, eyes downcast. “Faefolks labelled my father as a traitor to the Water court. They wanted him to pay the price of betrayal for tainting the purity of the Water court. They wanted him out, wanted him dead. In his effort to protect Jaebeom and his mother, my father sent them here, to this forest, to this mansion. Here is definitely far from the Water court and far from any faefolk because it’s in close proximity to the humans.”

“What happened afterwards?”

“Well, my father was sentenced to death,” Jinyoung answers. “Thankfully, my mother and I are still welcomed in the Water court. It was difficult to regain the trust of the faefolk, but Jaebeom has it worse. He is completely ostracized, unwelcomed everywhere, including the Fire court. It was a difficult time for him too. Shortly after our father’s death, his mother died. In a sense, he lost everything all at once.”

“At least he still has you by his side,” Yujin says, sympathetic.

Jinyoung smiles ruefully. “Still, I have to keep my bond with him a secret. If any other fae finds out, we’d be doomed for.”

Yujin and Jinyoung have settled on the floor, talking about Jaebeom and Jinyoung’s family history, stacks of books long forgotten. The Water fae has his knees to his chest, arms hugging it close. He looks like a child who needs to be consoled.

“Jaebeom is the only friend I have. My only brother,” he says with fond eyes. “I’m not like other faes who love a fight. I’m rather diplomatic, you see. When he was sent away, I wanted to follow him. I wanted to go wherever he went. But he stopped me. He didn’t want me to live like an outcast when I am a pure blood. I used to visit him occasionally, but with the wedding coming up, I end up staying here more often than usual. But truly, I’m more than happy to be part of it.”

After listening to Jinyoung, Yujin feels a turmoil starting in her. Their past -- especially Jaebeom’s -- is unexpectedly tragic. To think Jaebeom had gone through all those horrible things… Yujin can’t help but feel pitiful towards him.

“I understand if this all comes as a shock to you,” Jinyoung speaks again, shooting a small smile. “Jaebeom doesn’t like talking about his past, but I thought you should know. Maybe it’ll help you understand him better.”

“On a good note, Jaebeom is more tolerant towards other elemental faes, as compared to any other fae. That is why you see other faes in this house like Chan. He even employed Bam, a Water fae, as his couturier! They see him as family, as someone they can depend on and look up to.”

“So don’t you worry,” Jinyoung suddenly assures, “Jaebeom will take care of you well. I attest to it.”

[ithinkwehitametaphor]

unmarried!Steve Murphy (Narcos) x female Reader

The Sandwich Chronicles - Dinner for Two - Part 3 of ?

You eat breakfast in the living room, comfortably snuggled up on the couch but it’s hard to fully enjoy it alone. You’re not so sure anymore it’s a good thing that you have a whole day to yourself with no places to be. And as your mind wanders, you inevitably revisit last night, ponder what happened this morning. It’s that damn picture you cannot forget. Steve’s gentle touches you cannot stop thinking about. Oh, and did you agree to a real date earlier or will this simply be an evening with a friend? Steve said, “It’ll be fun.” Which makes you think that maybe that’s all it is supposed to be. He also said “Just you and me.” Just the two of you. It’s driving you crazy. If this is more, you want it. You want it desperately. But you’re scared as well because you don’t want to fuck it up, don’t want to end up heart-broken. There is a reason why you made that rule not to date anybody you work with ever again.

Your coffee is cold by now and the half-eaten French toast doesn’t look too appealing either. Yet, you still wolf down the leftovers because going hungry will only make you cranky. Maybe you should think about what to wear tonight instead of trying to fathom the nature of your dinner with Steve? It really wasn’t a joke when you asked him to put on a decent suit.

So a few minutes later you stand in front of the wardrobe and rifle through different options. A black dress. This one? No. The cut is too out of fashion for where you’re going. Ugh. The lacy pink and white one isn’t it either. The old bridesmaid dress makes you look like a cream cake... The next piece you pull out is a deep emerald green; its fabric is soft under your fingers. You have bought this dress a few weeks ago. Have never worn it since. It was something high-priced you saw in a store window and purchased on a complete whim. Actually, you only intended to try it on for fun to treat yourself. It fit so perfectly, though, that you went out of the shop with a designer dress, matching heels, a handbag and significantly less money in your bank account. Maybe today is the day? You put the green robe on and spin in front of the bedroom mirror. It still hugs your waist perfectly, the wide skirt is flowing as you move. The cut brings out your chest but not too much to be considered inappropriate in the context you intend to wear it tonight. Yes, today is the day.

You take the dress off again and put it carefully on the bed. That decision being made you realize you need something to do for the rest of the day to not go crazy. It’s only 11 am.

With a sigh you make up your mind to finally sort out your photo collection. Not the gruesome work stuff with the crime scenes but the art pieces you shoot in your free time. You’ve been asked, no pressed really, by an acquaintance to make a portfolio. She wants to show it to a business partner who owns a gallery or something like that. Not that you’re convinced anything will come out of it. But it will perhaps be enough of a distraction until it’s time to finally dress up for dinner with Steve. And if not, you can always squeeze in a few episodes of your favorite soap as well.

.

.

The doorbell chimes at ten past seven and when you open the door, Steve offers you a puppy-eyed look and an apology.

“Sorry I’m late! I got kept at –” He pauses just the briefest moment as his eyes scan your outfit, linger on the silver pendant around your neck, then flit down to your chest and waist, “– the office…”

You smile at him. “It’s fine, Steve. It’s only been ten minutes.”

As far as you can see, he has kept his promise. The suit he’s wearing is nice. Much nicer than those horrible beige summer atrocities that make him look like a shady insurance agent. No, this one is a dark maroon color, well fitted to his height and the width of his shoulders. Even the tie matches it.

“You look good,” you say because Steve still seems to be frozen in time, staring at you. “Why have I never seen this suit before?”

The question eventually registers and he blushes a bright pink. “Oh that. Yeah.” “Wore it to work once and Javi made fun of me all day. Asked if I had to give a speech in parliament…”

You laugh softly. “Of course he did. Probably jealous. Well, I think it’s perfect.”

Steve bites his lip. His eyes fix on yours. “You’re so beautiful,” he says eventually. “The dress is stunning on you.”

Now that he said out loud what his gaze already suggested, you feel a little self-conscious.

“Enough with the compliments,” you mutter. And add with more confidence than you really feel, “Shall we go?”

.

.

Never have you ever been to a place so high-class – and pretentious – before. This is the kind of restaurant that doesn’t have prices on the menu and where the waiter has to present the wine to you in a formal way. It’s a miracle if they let you inside is what you think but when you approach the entrance on Steve’s arm, your names are on the list and you’re led to a nice table with a splendid view from one of the large windows. The room itself is airy; there are few decorations apart from some pieces of what you understand to be modern Colombian art. Under the ceiling vintage chandeliers glitter and their light is warm and welcoming. It’s an odd but appealing mix.

The waiter politely pulls out a chair for you to sit and you follow his lead. Menus are being shown to the both of you and you’re only too happy to let Steve chose a wine.

Once the two of you are alone again, you lean over the table in a conspiratory manner.

“Do you need help with your food order?” you whisper, hard-pressed not to giggle.

Steve grins and leans closer, too. “Yes, please. You know I can’t read Spanish well. I bet even if I did, I wouldn’t know half of the food on the menu.”

“Okay. I see what I can do.”

You read through the options, deliberately making faces, then put the menu aside and fold your hands. There is a moment of silence.

“Are you going to tell me what I will eat tonight or is it a secret?” Steve inquires.

You smile at him. “Secret.”

“Thought so. I guess I just have to trust you.” He’s saying it to tease information out of you but it’s not going to work. Your lips are sealed.

Steve is just about to launch into some of his DEA interrogation techniques, when the waiter returns with the wine. The bottle is presented to both of you, then opened. As you take a sip from your glass, you cannot help but feel a little ridiculous. You know full well that it would be an affront to send the wine back, even if you disliked it. This is a sham tasting and Steve’s slightly raised eyebrow tells you he thinks the same. Luckily, the choice was an excellent one.

After the spiel about the wine, you order the day’s special dinner for Steve and yourself. One can never go wrong with that. You’ll get your five courses perfectly matching. The only choice you have to make is between fish or meat and you know full well what your companion prefers.

“You’re a cheater,” Steve mutters as soon as the waiter is gone.

“Am I?” You raise an eyebrow at him.

“Yes. You took the easy way out. I heard you order the special of the day. Smart move, Agent.”

“That’s why you like me, Steve Murphy. Because I’m smart.”

“Yeah, true.” He gives you a big smile, complete with tiny laugh lines around his sparkling blue eyes. It’s one of those smiles that never fail to make you a little weak in the knees.

.

.

You have finished the appetizer and are going for the soup when Steve suddenly puts his spoon down and excitedly nods his head at you.

“Look,” he mouths. “Look to the right.”

You follow his gaze and your eyes go wide.

“That’s her,” you mutter. “It’s Margarita from Café!”

“It is her, right? How is it possible that she looks exactly like in the show? Even I can recognize her and I barely watch except when I’m with you.”

You try not to be too obvious when you crane your neck to follow the woman’s path through the restaurant.

“Get an autograph,” Steve whispers.

This is an outright shocking suggestion. It’s also an enticing one. He is teasing you of course.

“I can’t just waltz up to her and ask for an autograph. In here. Where she wants to enjoy a meal in peace. What would I even say? Good evening, you don’t know me but my partner here works for the DEA and he smuggled me into this super fancy restaurant by cashing in a dubious favor and ANYWAYS, I really love your TV show, may I please get your autograph?”

“I’d leave the part about the DEA and the dubious favor out. Maybe say it in Spanish, too.” Steve laughs softly. “Besides, I was joking.”

“Don’t make fun of me, Murphy.” You mock-pout at him. “This is a serious dilemma I’m facing. Manners, yes I have them or no I don’t.”

Steve reaches out to take your hand in his and puts a small kiss on its back. The touch is just a brush of the lips really but you can feel your face flush. Shit.

“Maybe I should use my incredible charm and ask her? Seems like it’s working perfectly fine on you,” he murmurs.

Damn the man! An unchecked snortle bursts out of your nose and you pull your hand away to cover your mouth.

The old couple from the neighboring table gives you disapproving looks as you try not to make any more noises.

“Fuck you Steve,” you hiss. “If we get thrown out, I want it to be known it was your fault entirely.”

“Lies. All lies.” Murphy says. “My behavior has been impeccable so far.”

“’Tis not. You’re impossible is what you are.”

When you see the waiter approach with the main course you purse your lips and sit up a little straighter. Even Steve looks all serious and collected until man is gone again.

“Shit,” he chuckles. “We’re absolutely not good at this thing. You’re right!”

“Steve…shush.” You slip your right foot out of your heel and gently kick his shin under the table. “You gotta stop making me laugh.”

For a second, he freezes like a deer in headlights at the touch of your foot. “Alright, alright,” he brings out. “Let’s make a truce. For the main course at least.”

You nod your head and quietly retract your leg. “We’re just two absolutely serious grown-ups. Secretly ogling a Colombian soap opera star. Eating fancy dinner.”

“That’s us.”

.

.

 The food is delicious and you sip happily on your fine wine, not feeling drunk yet but definitely a bit tipsy. Steve doesn’t seem to be entirely sober anymore either. His face is a little flushed, his eyes rest more often on your form than on his food.

“Look, Margarita is going to the lady’s room,” you suddenly blurt out. Fuck that truce! This is your only shot.

You slip your neatly folded napkin into your handbag and nonchalantly walk to where you just saw the actress disappear. It all happens so fast, Steve can only stare after you.

About 10 minutes pass before you’re back with a triumphant smile on your face and place the folded napkin in front of him on the table.

“Behold the spoils of war, Agent Murphy.”

Steve takes a closer look at the piece of cloth and the writing scrawled across it.

“You didn’t!” he says in disbelief, still inspecting the signature. “You. Did. Not.”

“Did, too,” you reply, wiggling your eyebrows at him.

“How? Spill it.” He leans forward, face in his hands.

“A nice chat in the lady’s room. Powdering our noses, applying lipstick. Like cultivated ladies do. You wouldn’t know.” You cross your arms over your chest and lean back in the chair.

Steve cocks his head, squints at you. “Lie,” he mouths. “You know I can see your nose twitch just the tiniest bit when you bullshit me.”

“No you can’t. But…” Your smile widens. “…turns out she is having a terribly boring evening and when I very politely asked her if she would like one of my cigarettes, she said yes thank you very much. And gave me an autograph.”

He shakes his head. “Secretly smoking in the lady’s room. I believe that.”

“You better. I’m friends with a famous person now.”

“You’re not friends.”

“Yeah. Okay. I was incredibly lucky. And she was much nicer than she had to be. Probably because of the dress I wear,” you admit.

“A nice dress it is,” he agrees with a wink.

The waiter brings your dessert but enjoying your flan de coco doesn’t stop the two of you from bickering some more.

Steve shakes his head and grabs the napkin again. He eyes the signature intently. “Are you entirely sure you didn’t sign this yourself?”

“Oh, the insolence.” Once more you slip your shoe off and tap his leg with the tip of your foot. “Are you accusing me of lying?”

“Careful. Don’t promise things with your little feet you cannot keep.” Steve says and rubs his leg gently against you. The wine and your good mood have made him bolder.

“My feet aren’t little.”

“True, they are rather big.”

You stick your tongue out at him and the both of you start laughing. Screw the people at the neighboring table. But then Steve’s face takes on an inquisitive look.

Turning around you see a couple walk towards your table.

“Isn’t that your real acquaintance? What’s her name? Carolina?”

You nod. “Yes. That’s her. No idea who the guy is, though. And no idea what she’s doing here of all places.”

“I suppose we are about to find out.”

.

 Carolina introduces her companion as Alexander Miller, a European businessman currently residing in Bogotá. The name actually rings a bell and as Steve shakes hands with him, you realize this is the guy you were preparing the portfolio of your art for earlier.

Miller’s hand lingers in yours just a tad too long for your taste and the unwanted touch sends a shiver down your spine. His smile is a bit too wide and his teeth are a bit too shiny. You don’t like the way he stares at your chest with those beady eyes.

A quick glance at Steve tells you he doesn’t particularly enjoy it either.

Meanwhile, Carolina is making polite conversation, talking about how she was just telling Alexander about your photos again. They are here for a late dinner. Just a quick business meeting, really.

You didn’t know this was where your friend had business dinners, let alone quick ones but say nothing of it.

Miller laughs, quips about meaningful chance meetings. His chuckles seem exaggerated and sound fake in your ear. He keeps touching your shoulder “by accident,” so you instinctively lean away from him. Carolina doesn’t seem to notice or at least doesn’t show it.

When you look at Steve, however, you notice his right hand is clenched into a fist. His lips are pursed, the eyes narrowed. Uh, oh.

“Maybe you’d like to discuss art after dinner?”

Miller’s question hits you completely out of the blue. For a second you stare up at him from where you are sitting.

Oh the nerve! Maybe you don’t want to discuss anything with a touchy-feely guy like that while you’re on a date!

“I am so sorry Mister Miller,” you hear yourself say. “But actually. Today is our first wedding anniversary.” You reach out for Steve’s hand and he nods solemnly at you as if you had planned this route of escape all along.

Carolina’s face goes completely blank. Of course she knows you are not married but the lie has caught her off guard and she is at a loss for words.

“Yes, you know how it is with the missus,” Steve drawls in an exaggerated Southern accent. “It’s a special day. Very romantic.”

You bite your lower lip hard to force yourself not to laugh.

“Of—of course. I am so sorry for the intrusion. Another time then,” Miller says and he offers Carolina his arm.

“Another time,” you agree. “Have a nice evening.”

.

“Another time. Like when hell freezes over,” you spit as soon as the both of them are out of earshot.

Steve is still holding on to your hand. His fingers gently caress yours. “You okay?”

“Mhm. I don’t know. This is the guy who’s supposed to put my photos in an art gallery.”

“Ouch.”

“Yeah. I think I’m not going to be a famous photographer all too soon. Because I’m not meeting this guy ever again. I don’t know what Carolina thought when she suggested this.”

Steve nods. “As your husband, I feel the need to applaud your decision. And to kick him in the nuts for being an absolute sleazeball.”

“Aw, you’re really the best husband one could wish for. Always so understanding.”

You both laugh.

“How about we finish this wine, drink the mandatory coffee and then get out of here? I’ll call us a taxi,” Steve suggests.

“Sounds perfect.”

.

.

Out on the curb, waiting for the taxi, Steve offers you a cigarette and you pass the few minutes in comfortable silence, smoking. In the back of the car on the way home you feel the need to scooch closer to him. It’s not that late yet but somehow the encounter with Carolina and her businessman gnaws a little on you. It has also sobered you somewhat.

“Hey,” Steve whispers and wraps an arm around your shoulder. “You alright, honey?”

“Hey,” you lean your head against his shoulder and after a moment of hesitation add, “Say, would you like to go to my place and have a romantic anniversary beer before parting ways?”

Steve looks you over and presses the softest of kisses on your brow. “I’d love that.”

------

[Part 1]

[Part 2]

[Part 4]

[Part 5]

[Part 6]

[Narcos Writing Masterlist]

[straycat-writes]

Hiiii! I just want to say I recently found about your blog and have read so much nd love it!! Your writing and characterisation is so good! I wanted to put in a request if I could! I'd like to request a birthday scenario/headcanon (your choice!) with Chuuya and a fem reader, as its my birthday on the 20th this month! What they would get up to celebrate etc? Thank you so much!

[Thank you, and I’m sorry it took me so long to get to this! Also, happy birthday! 🥰🥰]

my undying love (nakahara chuuya)

It is nearly evening when you finally arrive back home. The day had been eventful, to say the least. Your friends had thrown you a surprise birthday party and had dragged you with them for an afternoon going around town, because, in their words, ‘it was your day and you need to be taught how to have fun’.

They had been right, it was very much fun. You had gone to so many places and tried so many fun things, and in all the hectic excitement you almost forgot that you hadn’t heard a word from Chuuya since yesterday. But now that you are home, with the tiredness finally catching up to you, you finally begin to wonder. Just where the hell is he?

You enter your house and kick off your shoes, then frown when you hear someone moving around inside.

“Chuuya? Is that you?”

The noises stop for a while as you walk inside. Sure enough, Chuuya’s coat and hat lie discarded on the couch, and you wonder what he could possibly be doing.

Just then, you feel slender arms gently snaking around your waist from behind you, and you smile when the familiar cologne invades your senses.

“Hey, sweetheart.” He nuzzles into the side of your neck, “You’re looking prettier than usual.”

You stifle a laugh, instead choosing to roll your eyes and turn around in his arms, “If you’re trying to sweet-talk your way out of this mess, it’s not going to work. Where have you been?”

He steps back with a sheepish smile and scratches the back of his neck, “I am so sorry, (y/n). I wanted to be here and spend the whole day with you, but Mori-san sent me out of town at the last moment…”

“And you thought some job out of town disposing off threats was more important than your darling’s birthday?” you ask with a pout.

You’re not that dense. You understand his job and everything it entails, and you understand how demanding it is. So, you weren’t really all that upset. Still, it was fun to mess with him. It isn’t often you get to see the great Nakahara Chuuya fumble with his words.

“Of course not!” he said quickly, “Nothing’s more important than my baby. It’s just that…Look, babe, I’m terribly sorry, I promise I’ll make it up to you, and…”

“…Yes?”

“Uh…happy birthday?”

You snort, “Sure. Can I ask why I found you loitering in my house? It’s breaking and entering, you know?”

“Well, technically, it’s just entering because you gave me your key…” He begins sheepishly, but then immediately changes tactics when he sees the look on your face, “But that’s not important! What is important is that I’m here now, and I’m going to make it up to you a hundred times over, I pro-”

“Chuuya…” you chuckle, “It’s alright, I’m only kidding. I understand.”

He had been waving his hands around, talking quickly and excitedly, but as soon as you say the words, he lets out a sigh of evident relief. He smiles, before slowly coming over to envelope you in a hug.

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart.” He murmurs into your hair, “But…what if I say I have something to make this up to you?”

“I told you, Chuuya, it’s alr – “

“Nonsense. Come with me.”

You look at him, his blue eyes shining and tentative smile on his face, before letting him pull you along behind him. He drags you into the kitchen of all places, and you briefly wonder why all the lights were turned out.

You didn’t have to wonder for long, though, because what you see takes your breath away. In the middle of the kitchen table, illuminated by candles, there sits a lone rose in a small, sleek vase. Beside it, there is a small but elaborate cake decorated with red velvet, and beside that is an elegantly wrapped present.

You stand there in mute awe, staring at it for a full minute with wide eyes before you’re able to articulate anything at all.

“Chuuya, I…this is…I don’t know what to say”

“You don’t have to say anything.” From behind you, he gently puts his hands on the sides of your shoulders, before closing the distance between you, “This is an apology. I just got back an hour ago, so I’m sorry I couldn’t do anything more elaborate, but – “

“More elaborate?” you look at him incredulously, “Are you kidding me? Chuuya, this is amazing, you didn’t have to go through so much trouble.”

He blinks, mildly confused, “Trouble? What are you talking about? I wanted to surprise you with so much more, take you to some fancy gourmet restaurant to have dinner and bury in more presents than you can handle. Unfortunately, this was all I could manage in an hour…”

He laughs at the look you give him, before excitedly leading you towards the table. Up close, you see that the cake is heart-shaped, embellished with red velvet roses, with the words ‘for my darling’ written on it in elegant swirling letters. What next catches your eye is the small box carefully wrapped in sliver paper and topped with a golden bow.

“Go on, open it.” Chuuya says enthusiastically.

Shaking your head at his excitement, with your own bubbling over in your chest, you pick it up and slowly pull the bow loose. Inside is a sleek black box, completely blank on the outside. It opens with a click, and if you thought you couldn’t be surprised any further tonight, you were wrong.

On the satin lined inside lies the most elegant necklace you have ever seen. It’s sleek and silver, with a bright, dark blue sapphire pendant. A pendant whose colour strangely reminds you of somebody’s eyes.

With wide eyes and lips slightly parted, you stare at it before looking back at him, “Chuuya…”

“Do you like it?” he asks nervously, eyes darting between the necklace and your face, “I had it shipped from Germany a week ago, but I can have it returned if you – “

His words are cut off abruptly when you put your hand on his mouth. “Chuuya. I love it.”

“…Really?” he murmurs, after slowly lowering your hand from his mouth and taking it in his own.

You nod, “I love it so much, it’s absolutely beautiful. But you really did not have to do this.”

“Why not?” he tilts his head, before smirking, “How else am I supposed to confess my undying love to you?”

Giggling, you hand him the necklace and turn your back to him, pushing your hair to one side. His hand circles around in front of you once as he gently fastens it around your neck.

“There.” He whispers, leaning dangerously close to your ear, “All done.”

A chill goes down your spine at the proximity and you desperately try to fight off the oncoming blush as you turn around to face him, “H-how does it look?”

“Better, now that it’s on you.”

You laugh, “Shut up, you’re too cheesy.”

He holds up his hands in mock surrender, before letting out a tired sigh, and you’re suddenly hit with the realization of how completely exhausted he must be, having only come back an hour ago.

Smiling, you grab on to the front of his shirt and place a kiss on his lips, and feel him melt immediately under your touch. When you let go, he leans his forehead on yours, clear blue eyes looking even brighter in the flickering light of the candles.

“I love you.” You breathe.

He smiles, “I love you too. Happy birthday, my love.”

[chasseurdeloup-retired]

A Pie for Help || Chloe and Kaden

TIMING: Current LOCATION: Kaden’s Apartment PARTIES: @chloeinbetween and @chasseurdeloup SUMMARY: Chloe visits Kaden for a baking lesson.  CONTENT WARNINGS: emotional abuse references, domestic abuse, terminal illness mention

More and more it felt like Kaden’s kitchen was the most used space in his apartment. And at this point, mabe the most visited, too. And if Abel’s barking was any indication, the kitchen was about to get another new visitor. One he didn’t know quite so well as some of the others. Kaden shushed the dog as he made it to the handle, attempting to quiet him down before letting anyone in. “Hey,” he said, swinging the door open and holding back Abel behind his legs. Looking at Chloe, something struck him. Putain. “Uh, hope you’re not afraid of dogs. I can crate him if you are. I’m sorry I didn’t check.” He really should have mentioned. Fuck. He wasn’t a stranger to causing awkward situations, but he’d really hoped he could avoid one right off the bat.

Chloe checked Kaden’s message three times before building up the courage to walk up to his door. Holding her iron necklace pendant tightly in one hand, Chloe raised her other to knock. She jumped high as a cat when out of nowhere, a dog barked. It was that slightly wide-eyed, hair-on-end look that Kaden was greeted with when he opened the door. “Hi,” Chloe squeaked. The tension trickled out of her like a faulty faucet as she looked at the big fluffy black dog behind Kaden’s legs. “Um, no?” She replied uncertainly. “As long as he doesn’t have wings.” She smiled wryly. “Who, um, what’s his name?”

One look at her wide eyes and Kaden was prepared to bring Abel straight to his crate. He’d seen that look of fear many times before in his job. As much as he loved dogs and animals and had a hard time being afraid of them, he understood for the most part. The teeth and claws, the unpredictability if you were unfamiliar with animals, there was reason for fear. Chloe had a lot of reasons for fear. He was hoping he could avoid those today. Keep today normal and easy. “Oh, okay good. You looked-- I never want to just assume since he can look a little, uh, you know, he’s bigger which some people--” Kaden really needed to stop talking. Thank god she cracked a joke. “No wings, as you can see,” he said with a half smile. “This is Abel. He’s very friendly. Big fan of treats.” He led her in and shut the door before quickly grabbing a small treat from a bag on the counter. “Here, make a new friend,” he said, handing the treat to her to give the dog.

“Oh! Um, yeah, sure,” Chloe said. The bones of Chloe’s knees clicked as she knelt down. It occurred to her a little too late that maybe this was a bad idea: getting up again might be a bit of a pain. Extending her hand with the treat on her palm, she let Abel snuffle her. Abel was surprisingly gently in plucking the treat off her hand before gulping down the biscuit. He licked the crumbs from Chloe’s hand. Smiling, she gently scratched under his chin, bringing her hand round to his ear. Abel enthusiastically leant into the scritches, his tailing thwipping across the floor. Chloe had no idea how big the grin on her face was until she suddenly remembered that Kaden was there, and that she couldn’t just spend all her time stroking Abel’s back. Even if Abel himself seemed to disagree with that theory. She slowly struggled back to her feet, clutching the counter as standing up made her a little dizzy. “He’s really cute. Bigger than most dogs. Um. So much fluff.”

Kaden leaned against the wall and crossed his arms, watching as Chloe crouched on the floor to be with the dog. He couldn’t keep the stupid smile off his face. He knew Abel was a good boy who loved meeting new people, but it was always nice to watch when others lit up around an animal. There was nothing like it. Hell, it was the part of his job that always brought him joy. A lot of it was difficult and turbulent, but helping pets reunite with owners or find a new forever home was worth all of it. “He likes you,” he said, still beaming. She wobbled and he reached out to help steady her, arm out in case she needed to lean on him. “You good?” he asked. “But yeah, I got him to be a hunting dog. He’s rotten at it, really. Runs away at the first sign of trouble but he’s still a great dog.” That wasn’t entirely true, though. Abel didn’t run when Kaden was truly in trouble. He saved him. A few times now. A pit dropped in his stomach at the memory. Deep breath. Pushed it away. “Kitchen’s this way,” he said and waved her over. “Uh, so I got all the ingredients out. And I have a few filling options we can do. I wasn’t sure what you liked. And I figured you should call the shots here.”

“It's a good thing I don't have to be good at conversation with dogs,” Chloe said with a nervous chuckle. His smile made hers all the wider, although her cheeks blushed red, embarrassed that this had been the ice breaker and that her communication had been so weak until now. She paused, waiting for the dizziness to fade to a manageable level before answering his question. “Yeah, I'm good,” her smile wavered. Chloe wasn't going to focus on the ache in her head or the wool behind her eyes now. Now was about chasing a simple kind of happiness. Making for the sake of making, rather than the sake of being good. “I think that makes him a smart dog,” Chloe said, ruffling Abel’s furs once more before following Kaden through to the kitchen. “Honestly, I'm open to experimenting. Apart from the pie you made me, it's been so long since I've had pie I kind of don't want to hold myself to any ... pie standards? Is that a thing? Apple, cherry, pumpkin, pecan, anything like that would be great. My taste buds have changed in the last few years, so ... happy to try more things.”

“Part of what makes animals great, if you ask me,” Kaden replied. They were much easier than people most days. Certainly easier than the supernatural anything. His brow pulled together for a second as he saw her blush. He couldn’t figure out what she was embarrassed about. Fuck, was he doing something to make her uncomfortable already? He tried to continue to offer her a hopeful smile, even as she seemed to pass on taking his hand for help. “Yeah, yeah. Smarter than his owner, surely.” Kaden swung the fridge door open and started pulling out the butter. “So I figure I’d show you how to start a puff pastry but it takes forever so I have some dough ready to go, too. You know, for the actual pie. Unless you know, you want to take the two hours minimum to prepare it. Which, uh, you can. There’s no rush but it’s a long time, you know and…” Kaden placed the butter on the reached back and rubbed the back of his neck. “Uh, anyway, I was thinking maybe we could make a tarte tatin. It’s apple. If you want. Less chance for decorating the top of the pie with the crust since it’s made upside down, but you can cut the fruit pretty. Up to you.”

“I don’t know, his owner strikes me as a pretty decent human- person,” Chloe replied quietly, dropping into one of the kitchen chairs to take the weight off her legs. Building up strength muscle by muscle where it was possible, but also making sure she was getting enough rest. Her physio would be proud, Chloe supposed drily as she watched Kaden pull the butter out of the fridge. “Oh, wow, this is really like daytime tv, huh? Here’s one we prepared earlier,” Chloe imitated the voice of some bubbly daytime presenter, holding up her hands as if she was offering Kaden a tray. Her smile did become more genuine as he told her the plan, looking over the counter. “Sounds good,” she replied, not realising how automatic and robotic her voice sounded. She was too used to telling people yes. “Cutting the fruit pretty sounds like a plan. Anything you think would work, as long as I can take the occasional rest break.”

“His owner tries, I guess,” Kaden said with a shrug. He wasn’t going to let his heart sink or his head dive straight into doubt as it was prone to lately. Today was certainly not about him or his bullshit. And if he could be a decent person for Chloe, maybe that was worth being. Let her keep the illusion, at least. Still he had to flash a smile at her jokes. “Right, yeah. Just call me…” Kaden couldn’t name a single daytime television chef. “Uhh, is Paula Deen one of those? Ari told me about her. I, uh, realized I have no idea.” The physical toll the whole ordeal took on her simply hadn’t occurred to him. He wasn’t sure why. Actually no, he could figure. There was just so much to unpack that sometimes things got left in the box up until they were right in front of you. “You know I can grab you a barstool if you want and you can work that way. No shame. This isn’t retail or something where you have to stand for eight hours.” Or anything worse. He flashed her a smile as he prepped the counter with flour. “Apple tarte tatin it is, then,” he said as he pulled out the apples and started lining them up to wash and peel them. It was then it  struck him that he was calling every shot. Fucking hell, that didn’t sit well. He turned and leaned against the counter, arms crossed in front of him as he faced her. “Wait. No. I’m making you make a decision. This is your pie. What do you want? Pie crust on top or no top? Let’s start there.”

“Ha, yes, Paula Deen, but even you don’t have quite the hair to match her,” Chloe chuckled. She looked up at his offer, hesitating for a second, shrinking into her chest before nodding quietly. “Yeah, a barstool is probably easier, actually,” she admitted quietly. “I won’t need it the whole time or anything.” Chloe smiled gratefully. Then promptly froze like a deer in headlight at his question, casually posed as he turned to her.

“Um….” Chloe stared at him, trying to remember what he’d just said about tarte tatin. Was it that there wasn’t a pie crust at all? Was it that because it was made upside down there wasn’t as much to do with a top pie crust? The question, like it or not, felt like a test, and all of Kaden’s goodwill might vanish in a second. On the other hand, if she didn’t answer at all, she might end up delaying the whole process. Maybe Kaden wanted her in and out as soon as possible, which was why he’d premade the pie crust anyway. Maybe he was hoping she would choose the least work. Maybe it would insult Kaden if she didn’t make a decision. She didn’t know anything about French culture, maybe he would be offended if she didn’t already know what the right answer was, or if she didn’t have an answer at all. Chloe looked down at Abel, who was casually sprawled on the floor, watching the both of them curiously and hoping one of them might drop a treat by accident. Abel, it seemed, did not have the answer either. Several seconds had passed since Kaden had asked the question. “Um. Pie crust on top? Yeah. Let’s… let’s go with that.”

“Right, note-- Wait. Did you just insult my hair?” Kaden said, turning to her. “That’s not very nice,” he started, holding back some laughter as he feigned hurt. “You might give me a complex or something.” He really hoped she caught on to the joke. Things didn't need to be more awkward, that was for sure. Still he went around to the other side of the kitchen and pulled in a barstool for her, placing it next to the counter.

For a second, Kaden wondered if he made a mistake. Was this too much pressure? Maybe he shouldn’t have pushed it. He breathed a sigh of relief as soon as she made one whole choice. It didn’t even matter what she picked, he was just happy she chose something and a smile broke out on his face. “Crust on top it is. We can attempt to make it pretty if we want but I make no guarantees on it turning out that way.” He gave her a small shrug and added, “still, might be fun to try.” He started placing butter and flour next to what he had set up as her station. “Fruit is all up to you, too. Or nuts if you want. I have just about everything.” Partially because he practically had a pie making assembly line at this point but mostly because he wanted to make this as nice as possible. Not that he wanted to let onto that. No need to overwhelm her with how ridiculously prepared he was. “Unless you don’t want to decide. We can stick with apple, of course. This is your lesson so whatever you want.”

“No, I would never,” Chloe laughed, pulling up a picture of Paula Deen to show him her silver fox luscious locks, sure he would agree that while he had great hair, he did not have Paula Deen hair. She smiled gratefully, the words of gratitude catching in her throat once more as she shifted into the barstool, leaning her elbows onto the counter.

As soon as she answered, she was watching for his reaction. Reading into the smile, the soft sigh of relief, like it might be revealed as a grimace of frustration if she just noticed the right twitch of a muscle, some clue to reveal his real opinion. But the smile looked genuine enough, so she relaxed a little as he started handing her ingredients. “Let’s… let’s not push this too far,” she said quietly as he started to ask her another question, the feeling of having to make yet another decision terrifying. “Apple sounds like a safe bet, and it would be… it would be cool to do a little bit of a cool pattern with the apples. Do you… do you make a lot of pies? You have so much… stuff available.”

Kaden glanced down at her phone with some skepticism. “Alright fine, point made. I don’t spend that much time on my hair, you’re right,” he said with a small scoff. Not that he’d admit to just about anyone how much time he actually did spend on it. Or how much money. “Fair enough. Let’s stick with the apple in that case. I agree, it’s pretty hard to go wrong with them,” he said, offering her another smile as he set up to get the apples ready to go. “Fruit’s already sweet, you know. So you don’t have to worry too much about really screwing it up. Sort of can let good fruit do the work for you. I mean not that there’s no work, uh, but you know what I mean.” Putain. He realized he was probably talking too much about nothing for no reason. She’d agreed with him and here he was rambling about fruit. He let out a sigh and rubbed the back of his neck again. “Oh, uh, yeah I end up making a lot more than I ever thought I would, that’s for sure. But baking is good for stress relief, passing the time, all that. So I make a lot of pies in this town.” His smile wasn’t as full this time, try though he might to make it otherwise. “Anyway, we won’t have any pie if we don’t cut fruit or make some dough. So what do you say?”

“Right. The fruit’s sweet. Don’t need to put too much extra special effort in, got it.” Chloe matched his awkward smile with another, even more awkward one of hers. It didn’t seem possible, really. This didn’t feel like reality, more like a feverish dream that was maybe what her dying body was clinging to in its deathbed. Making pies with the man who Lydia had hated more than anything else, it was just the kind of thing that a dying brain might invent. Although Chloe hoped that if this was the imaginations of a brain trying to escape the horrors of its demise, it might make her less awkward. “Maybe let’s… start with the dough. Is that sensible? Or the apples will brown before we get everything assembled… although I guess you have lemon juice, which would solve the problem of browning entirely, which you probably thought about before I did, so….” Chloe swallowed down her nervous flurry, rubbing the back of her head. “I’m trying really, really hard not to be like this, you know,” she admitted quietly.

Kaden wanted his smile to reach his eyes, really did. But he knew Chloe hadn’t been in control of damn near anything for years now. The last thing he wanted to do was to shout out orders or take away any more of her choice. At the same time, there was no denying that she was struggling to make any decisions. He supposed that made sense but it was still hard to reconcile. “It’s a pie, not a rocket. There is some room for error here. Breathe.” He handed her a bowl and slid the flour and butter towards her. “You made a good point, though. Let’s start with the dough. Plus, it’s pretty fun to use the pastry blender.” He leaned into the counter with his side and crossed his arms in front of his chest. “You can be however you need to be though. Really. I’m, uh, the whole…” He sighed and dropped his hands back to his side before pushing his hair back out of his face. “Look I clearly don’t know how the hell to act normal either. Don’t worry about it.”

Chloe nodded, taking a deep breath. A pie, not rocket science. A hunter, not a fae, and this was for fun, not out of the expectation of perfection. That last thought hit her the hardest. Chloe looked up at Kaden and made herself meet his eyes. “I appreciate that. I really do.”

“I remember how charismatic I used to be and how easy I used to find social interactions and… it’s really hard to not make those comparisons. Everyone says these things take time,” which was the one thing Chloe didn’t have, “but I guess I’m a bit too perfectionistic now. Anyway.” She started to combine the flour and butter carefully with her finger tips, following Kaden’s instructions. It was laughable that Kaden could be considered as awkward, not when he was so many good things. Chloe just straight up didn’t believe him.

Kaden listened and gave her a small nod before working on his own dough. He barely had to think about what he was doing at this point, it was second nature by now. Still he should slow down, he was trying to teach her, right? Putain. “I know it’s not the same, but I used to be pretty different, too. Before moving here and--- Just before,” he said, keeping his eyes pinned to the counter, focus on the ingredients combining to make the dough. Something out of nothing. It wasn’t magic like what a spellcaster could do, it was far from supernatural, thankfully, but it had its own magic. “I try not to compare. It’s pointless. And just, I don’t know. It feels bad. So I don’t.” Kaden gave a small shrug before leaning a little more into the dough, maybe more aggressively than he needed to. Pausing, he looked over at what she had started on. “So far so good. Make sure the butter isn’t clumped,” he said, small smile and pointing out the one spot. “No one was ever perfect on a first try. If ever. And you’re still pretty charismatic. Definitely endearing. At the very least.” This time the smile he flashed was wider, warmer. The fact she was still able to hold up and joke after everything she went through? Definitely endearing.

“That’s hard to imagine. I figured you would have been doing the hunting thing for a while with the whole being an expert thing,” Chloe replied quietly, slowly working the dough over in her hands, trying not to overheat the butter between her fingers. She watched Kaden, trying to copy how he did it, as much as anyone could. “I’ve spent the last four years having to be the most perfect at something I’m capable of being,” Chloe admitted below her breath, “I know it was all her, but it’s just… part of me now. Still trying to be better at things. A better version of me.” Previously, more acceptable to let live. Now just more likeable. Definitely different stakes, but the mindset was still the same. She nodded, fixing the issue he’d pointed out and looking around the rest of the dough for more clumped butter. “Oh, trust me I know. And… glad you think I’m endearing, I guess? I think that’s not the word most people would use.”

“Yeah,” Kaden answered, voice small, “I have.” That was the problem. That’s all he’d done. And he wasn’t sure-- He paused. Inhaled deeply. He was baking. The kitchen was off limits for bullshit thoughts about his bullshit life. He’d decided that at some point in this stretch while Regan had been in her cabin. Morgan very rarely let that rule stand while they were baking, but he had control right now. No bullshit thoughts right now. Just baking. “Just trust me. I never would have done shit like this a year ago. I can’t remember the last time I lived in one place this long, to be honest with you.” He listened carefully as he folded the dough over, setting it aside once it was ready and watching her progress. “Guess that makes sense.” It’s not like he was great at being bad at things, either. “Yeah, well. I said what I said. Looks good, by the way. Now you just have to fold it. Roll it. Then turn it. And then there’s apples.”

“Oh.” Chloe replied softly, unsure if she could, or should reply. Was moving a hunter thing? Chloe distantly remembered Lydia’s sister, the one who had been killed so unjustly by those monstrous beings known as hunters. It had been reported as a murder. She supposed you would have to run, in a situation like that. What a thankless life indeed. And he’d joked before about her being braver, when Chloe was content to curl into the remnants of her life, doing nothing brave than posting about fae on main every once in a while. “Roll it. Fold it. Turn it. Wait,” Chloe smacked her wrist against her forehead, repeating the instructions in the right order this time. “Like this?” Chloe asked eventually, her hands beginning to throb from the work. “Does... this town scare you?”

It took Kaden a second to realize she’d even said it in the wrong order. “Wait, first-- yeah, you got it,” he said with a nod of approval as she manipulated the dough. He gathered both sets of dough and put them on a tray and into the fridge to chill. His fingers had wrapped around the handle when her question stopped dead in his tracks. It was something he’d never really considered. A looming question he never actually asked or answered to himself. Blinking, his mouth opened and closed a few times over, no words spilled out. He placed the tray in the fridge and closed the door before turning back to her. “I don’t know,” he managed to say. “It-- Maybe. It’s, uh… It’s definitely the most complicated place I’ve ever lived.” He rubbed the back of his neck, hoping he could find the answer. “You?” he hazarded to ask. Stupid question most likely.

“So… apples.” There couldn’t be any difficult decisions there, could there? It was just slicing and arranging and nothing else. Not that it mattered either way. As Kaden made clear, it wasn’t a big deal. “The most complicated place? What does that mean?” At his question, Chloe nodded, with a weak, wry smile. Of course he knew. “So afraid. All of her friends still live here. But…. I think I’m scared of out there even more.” Chloe gestured out towards the front door, frankly with no awareness of which was to point to other towns. She might have just pointed in the direction of the ocean for all she knew.

“Apples,” he repeated, grabbing the bag and setting up in the kitchen by the sink to wash them. “Uh, I mean, just that I’ve had more questions about my fucking life choices here than I have anywhere else. Maybe that’s not fair to blame on the town, though. Maybe I’m just old,” Kaden said and tossed the washed apple to her. He kept washing as she talked. She wasn’t fucking wrong. He wrung his hands in between placing one apple to the side and grabbing the next. “Makes sense.” He didn’t even know what to say to that. Morgan frequented that very kitchen. And she hadn’t been able to let Lydia go completely, even after. And as much as Regan detested Lydia, she was still fae. Hell, there was a pixie hidden in his apartment. He was surrounded by fucking fae and fae apologists and he was wondering if he was one at this point. When he had no goddamn reason to be looking at her and the effects a fae had on her. “Well, you have friends here now, too,” he said plainly, going back to washing the apples. “And she’s fucking dead.” No thanks to him. “So it’s a little safer now.” Small comforts, surely.

“You’re not that old, right?” Chloe had thought he was around her age, maybe even younger. Were hunters like fae in terms of looking young forever or… was he just being sardonic “No, I guess that makes sense.  Sort of. This place is so weird maybe it does make everyone question stuff.” She caught the apple, looking it over before carefully beginning to slice it. The knife slipped as he answered her, Chloe jerking away so she didn’t cut her hand. Friends. Something tightly wound inside her began to unravel a little there, like she’d tied down some part of her all those years ago so that it was too small to be seen by the monster she’d live with. The part of her that sought companionship, friendship. For years, she’d been hard and abrasive to everyone in the house because Lydia would have used anything else against her. But Kaden considered them friends. Or something similar. Chloe almost sobbed, blinking away the heat in her eyes rapidly. “She’s fucking dead,” Chloe echoed, taking a new apples from Kaden’s hand, still dripping with water as she put in on the board. “So I’m a little safer now.” Chloe cleaved the apple in two right through its heart. Some day, that might even sound true.

[inosuketingz]

the sheets are stained with blood [p.4]

PART ONE PART TWO PART THREE [ PART FOUR ] Victor Zsasz x fem!Reader Warning: language, violence, blood and BOP spoilers Word Count: 1687 Tag: @itsknife2meetu @yourlocalghoul​ @im-just-one-of-the-avengers​ @fillechatoyante​ A/N: im sososoosossososos sorry this took so damn long I promise u guys my reasoning wasn’t too bad, i just got busy with school and then right after became really unmotivated w/ the blm movement. as a black woman, it has always affected me a lot and i really couldn’t stop stressing over it for weeks. of course im still stressed over the protests and stuff, but i did want to get back to writing. if it makes you guys feel any better, you guys are getting your guts rearranged in the next part.

“Holy shit!” You yell the minute the quarrel crashes into he window. It lands only inches away from your face, too short to reach it. And whoever shot the arrow knows that. They aren’t trying to kill you. They only want your attention.

 “Since when did Hyunwoo have shooters?” You ask. For the most part, you know Hyunwoo was a very independent person when it came to the shady business he dabbled in. He was never the type to have any guard dogs.

 Victor shakes his head, forcing his car door open at a frantic speed. “They’re not with him.” 

 You narrow your eyes, searching for anything in the distance. There’s a flash of purple within the trees next to Hyunwoo’s house and you look over to Zsasz. He’s standing in the open, a grim look on his face.

 “Zsasz, get back in the fucking car before you get shot in the forehead!” You bark your order. 

 “Don’t tell me what to do,” he replies and you sigh in annoyance, slamming your head back into your seat’s headrest. Dealing with him was like dealing with a four year old. You reach into your pocket for the Blood Pendant. If he won’t do what you say voluntarily, you’ll just have to force him. But, when you dig through the fabric, you realize it’s gone.

 You glance toward him and see the silver chain hanging out of the back pocket of his cargo pants. That sneaky asshole.  You didn’t even notice when he managed to snag it off you.

 “Victor Zsasz!” A feminine voice calls out. It echoes around you and you have no clue where to look. You slip out of the car, mentally readying yourself for any of the spells you can conjure. 

 Zsasz looks even angrier now, his face is painted red with fury. 

“Get back in the car!” You try to advise him. You have no clue why you’re so concerned with his safety.

 “No, I want to kill these bitches by myself.” He pulls his token knife from his pocket, the one you’ve seen referenced all over the news with his murders.

 As he toys with the sharp edge of the blade, you sigh. “No offense, but I don’t think your tiny ass knife stands a chance against a bitch with a crossbow.”

 Behind you two, there is a soft crunch of leaves as someone takes a step closer. Like partners in a waltz, you and Victor whirl around. His grip on the knife’s handle grows tighter and you can feel your power tingling at your fingertips.

 “Hi, Zsasz.” The two of you face a young black woman, her blonde hair styled in loose locs. You can’t help but notice how pretty she is, despite the cocky grin on her face indicating she wouldn’t hesitate knocking the both of you out cold. “Since when did you start working with the Night Hex?”

 “We’re not working together,” You shoot back. “Which is why I think it’s in our best interest that I leave, and let you two hash it out.” You begin to take a step back, ready to bolt out of sigh, when you feel a cold metal against your neck. It’s something sharp, and you hiss as it slightly stabs into your skin.

 “Yeah I don’t think so,” A feminine voice behind you says. You look over your shoulder and see her standing there with a crossbow in her hand. She nudges the crossbow closer to your face and you flinch back. “Consider yourself guilty by association.”

 Another woman approaches you and you roll your eyes. “God, there’s more of you?” 

 “Yes. And it looks like you guys are outnumbered.”   She mocks you, her inner-city accent evident.

 Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fucking fuck. These are those Birds of Prey chicks aren’t they? And you remember hearing somebody say they had something to do with Roman Sionis’s death. That’s why Victor looks so pissed. 

 This isn’t fair. You came to Gotham to relax, and stir away from any of those fuckers in spandex that swear they’re vigilanties. But of course the second you decide to make some hard-earned money, you suddenly have these little birds on your ass. 

 The one with the crossbow sidewalks to stand in front of the pair of you and turns slightly to aim the weapon at Zsasz. “You’re supposed to be dead,” she tells him flatly. The other two birds step back, seemingly to let her at him. Your mind flashes back to the ugly scar on Victor’s neck. It’s shaped perfectly for a crossbow. Whatever Victor had with these women, it seems to be about more than just his dead boyfriend. “You’re supposed to be dead, like the rest of those sons of bitches,” she insists. Her voice cracks as she says this, and her eyes grow wet.

 “And yet, I’m not.” Zsasz practically growls. The words came from deep within his chest. His rough hands twirl the knife between his fingers, anticipating what is to come.

 The air is thick with tension, and you are standing in the midst of it all. Times like this are when you especially become grateful for your witchcraft. 

 A beat passes before Zsasz lashes. He raises the knife, aiming for her face. It’s almost like time slows down for you as you notice the woman’s finger reach for the trigger. You rush to latch onto Victor’s empty hand and close your eyes, picturing your small apartment in as vivid detail as possible. You whisper in Hebrew a teleportation spell you learned in Israel that translates to “Bring me there.” 

 It hardly ever works. Time after time you’ve tried to disappear mid-fight with Wonder Woman, only for you to remain where you are and get her fist in your face. The fact that you’re trying to do it with two people is insane, and you would’ve called yourself an idiot for even considering it any other time. However, for some odd reason, you can’t fathom this encounter ending with a bow down Victor’s throat.

 You’re not sure if you managed it or not until you hear Victor mutter “What the fuck?” and you hear the hum from your studio’s A/C kicking on. You let out an audible sigh of relief and let go of Zsasz’s hand. Your moment of relaxation is cut short when he shoves his hard hands against your shoulders, causing you to stumble back. Out of instinct, you step forward and swing your fist at him, but he ducks back.

 “What the fuck did you do!?” He yells so loud that you’re sure the entire floor hears him. “I was going to fucking kill her! Are you stupid?” 

 It takes you a minute to process his words. You just saved his life and he has the nerve to be mad at you? “Are you stupid?” You echo, your voice even louder than his. “She was holding a fucking crossbow, dumbass! She would have killed you long before you could even lay a hand on her! You should be thanking me, you piece of shit!” 

 He brings his knife to your neck and you clench your teeth, expecting him to bark some new insults your way. Instead, he swallows down and digs his hand into your pocket to take out the keys. “I’m taking these to Hernando myself. Do whatever the fuck you want.” And with that, he turns to the door to leave.

 But you’re not going to let this argument go down so easily. With his back now turned to you, you push him, and he stumbles a bit. “And when you’re done with that, leave me the fuck alone! Stay as far away from me as possible, and deal with the bounty the Birds of Prey have on you by yourself!”

 He stares at you from over his shoulder as you wait for an answer. Adrenaline rushes through your veins as you hype yourself up for a fight with him, but Zsasz already looks like he’s calmed down. “Go drink some water, you look like you’re gonna pop a vein.” And then he turns and leaves. 

 Your face twists as your door slams shuts, the million words you wanted to throw at him still tingling at your tongue.

~~~

 Hot water hits your back and you yawn. It took you an hour to finally calm down, but when you did you ordered some pizza and watched TV for the rest of the day. You aren’t too sure how long Hernando wants you to work on this expedition with him, but when it’s all over you’ve decided you're ditching Gotham. 

 The first few months here have been peaceful, sure, but too many dangerous people know that you’re here. Your little vacation spot has been ruined. So, you’ll probably head somewhere else, like Orlando or Los Angeles. Maybe you’d move to a small town without any crime-fighting heroes, and live out your Hallmark-movie romantic fantasy after all.  

 Whichever it’ll be, you’re sure it’s not anywhere near this city. Or Boston, either. 

 You scrub your body with a soapy loofah to make sure all the dirt is off your body. After a few more minutes you finally turn the water off and pull a towel over your body. Something about Victor Zsasz drains the energy out of you. After all your encounters with him, you remember always feeling beyond tired by the end of it. 

 Whatever it is, it’ll be gone once you leave Gotham.

 You lotion yourself and apply your facial creams, pulling on your panties and an oversized shirt you sleep in in the process, all before slipping into your bedroom. 

 Your room is oddly quiet, the hum of the TV you normally keep on muted and your fan turned off. You flip on the light switch and freeze at the sight before you.

 Victor Zsasz waits for you at the end of your bed. The sheets are stained with blood and you can practically smell the reek of death coming from him. He looks at you with those fake innocent eyes as he says a soft, “Hey.”

[olivyh]

Into Wonderland Chapter Four: Scarabia Part One

They squint against the sun that blazes overhead, coughing up sand every once in a while. They lay there for a few moments, trying to get used to the suddenly very dry air.

Until they feel a pair of paws on their face. They jolt and move to shove whatever was on them off. Something yelps and snacks them with it's tail. They sit up, allowing their eyes to get used to the brightness. They see a small black cat?-... Raccoon? -sitting there, tail swishing angrily and glaring at them with it's almost flowing blue eyes. It's tail ends in a split series of points- resembling more of a pitchfork than a tail. It's ears spew out bright blue fire, which only adds to the heat of the desert that suffocates them.

"Where do I know you from?" They mumble out loud. The cat's ears twitch and it glares at them, shoving at their face. They jump up at the realization.

"You're from Wonderland! Or... a version of you... you can't talk, can you?" The cat stares at them as if they were insane, tail thrashing and smacking their knee.

"Right... right..." They mutter. They stand fully, stretching and walking towards what looks like a busy town. They duck between the busy stalls and try their best to blend in with the bustling crowd. The cat... Grim... they remember his name being, paws at their foot and they jump back, almost knocking into someone who was looking at a stand.

"I'm sorry!" They apologize, turning to face the stranger. The boy's hood covers most of his face but they can see the shadowed smile at them.

"It's okay!" The boy chirps, helping a child grab a piece of fruit from the stand. The child beams up at him and runs off.

"Hey!" The shopkeep shouts. The boy freezes and Mc internally curses themselves for finding trouble wherever they go. "You gonna pay for that?" The man snarls.

"I-" The boy stammers. "It's just an-"

"I'm sorry about him!" Mc intervenes, grabbing the boy's arm. "He's uhm..." The pause. "The heat's getting to him. Y'know... I told him to drink something before we left so he didn't get delirious!" They stammer, offering nervous laughter. The boy tries to play along, acting as if he was overheating and on the verge of passing out. A little overdramatic, Mc thinks nervously, but the shopkeep seems to buy it. "Y'know, desert... things..."

"I'll just get him home now- I'm terribly sorry about that-" They grab his arm and try to pull him away. They call out to Grim, who scampers past them. Someone shouts after him, pointing at the cat that was ducking between people's legs.

"That animal's a thief!"A townsperson yells. Mc looks down to Grim, who smiles nervously, a pocket watch and a few coins dangling from his neck.

"Seriously?!" Mc shouts, as guards duck between the busy crowd and head towards them. They grab the boy's hand and scoop up Grim and run in the opposite direction, weaving between people and going through buildings. They wheeze as they run, struggling to take in the dry air that the boy was clearly more used to. He takes the lead and drags them up a flight of cracking stone stairs. They can hear the footsteps thundering behind them and it makes them shiver, gulping.

They thud against the boy's back when he suddenly stops, grabbing onto their arm to stop them from going any further.

"There's no way out...!" The boy pants.

Mc looks around, realizing that what they were about to do is a very bad idea. They grab a nearby pole from a pile of materials left behind, likely for construction, and pray the amount of action movies they watched will pull through. They sprint towards the edge, wedging the pole in between the cracks in the stone and launching themselves at another rooftop. They roll across the ground, holding Grim to their chest as their back slams against a wall. They groan, ready to shout to the boy to do the same as them when a body slams against their own, knocking the breath out of their lungs.

The boy on top of them climbs off and leaps, laughing and jumping.

"That was-!" He stammers, breaking into laughter again. His hood is down and Mc can make out his messy white hair, tied back with a patterned headband. His ruby eyes gleam in the sunlight as he beams down at them, offering his hand to help them up.

"Amazing! It was amazing-!" He laughs again, spinning. "What you just did was amazing!"

"Thanks...?" They mumble, watching the boy curiously. He stops and pauses, mouth slightly open as his eyes widen as he looks over the city.  "What is it? Is something wrong?"

"No... it's not that at all-" He says breathlessly, a smile making it's way to his face. "I've just never seen Agrabah like this before..."

Mc looks across the city, across the rows of houses and lights, highlighted by the setting sun over the far off desert. Clouds glow a light orange and blue, making the city seem like a place out of a fantasy.

Which it might just be, Mc thinks.

"I uhm... don't leave the house much," The boy chuckles nervously, leaning against the stone wall and holding his face in his palms. "It's so pretty..."

"Yeah..." Mc stands next to him. Grim is fast asleep on the ground next to them as they sit in silence for a few moments, watching the sun set over the vast desert. Soon enough, the sly turns into a deep blue, speckled with stars and a full moon rising from behind them, shrouding the city in moonlight.

"You're not from here, are you?" The boy breaks the silence, motioning at the thick wedding clothing they still wear from the fake wedding with Prince Deuce on the ship.

They shake their head. "Not at all."

"I hope you like it here, if you decide to stay." He smiles up at them, jumping up in a panic. "I need to get home! Jamil's probably worried..."He shouts suddenly, making Mc jump and waking up Grim. The cat grumbles at the boy, who scrambles towards a broken set of stairs. Mc follows close behind taking a mental note of the location of the building because, chances are, that will be where they sleep.

Unless the boy offers to bring them home.

But, with his worried mumbling as Mc follows him down the empty streets.

"I-I'm sorry I kept you for so long-" He whispers as they turn another corner, bumping into another boy.

"Where have you been?" The man- Jamil?-asks, steel grey eyes staring Mc down.

The boy hesitates, stepping in front of Mc. "I-I know I wasn't supposed to sneak out but I really, really wanted to see the town today and-"

"Did you forget that you had a suitor coming today?"

"A... what?" The boy pauses before grimacing. "Oh...."

"You're lucky I was able to convince your father  that you were ill." The brown haired boy scolds, glaring at the other boy. "Now-" He pulls the white haired boy behind him, striding towards Mc, who shakes a bit under his intense gaze. "Who are you and what were you doing with Kalim?"

"I-"

"They helped me! I messed up in the town square and they saved me from the guards-"

"Saved you?" The man asks, annoyance lacing his voice. "They could have killed you instead!" Taking a breath, he shoots the smaller boy a look that says 'we'll talk about this later', which makes him awkwardly shuffle his feet.

"Stay here." The man orders them. They freeze and nod curtly, noticing an apologetic look from Kalim as the taller boy takes him away.

Am I going to die? Mc thinks as they disappear behind the corner. Suitor? Is Kalim a prince? Why is everyone I meet royalty doing something they aren't supposed to? Lost in their thoughts, they don't notice that the man with the ponytail returned until they feel a firm hand on their shoulder.

"With me," He says, motioning them to follow him. They walk further and further away from the town and into the desert. The sand shifts under their feet and they slip a few times while the man continues to walk in a straight line, used to walking through the desert.

Their mouth is dry and chalky, any attempts to make it better being snuffed out by the anxiety of the long walk.

"Uhm..." They choke out. "Where... are we going?" They're out of breath and feel as if their legs are going to give out.

"Do you know about the Cave of Wonders?" The boy asks quietly, stopping when they get to a large dune. Mc gives themselves a minute to breathe, fighting the urge to lay down in the sand and sit there until they get sent to a different world.

"No...?"

"It's said that it holds great treasures, unlocked with a scarab beetle pendant." He pauses and looks down at them, as if to make sure they're listening. "Hold this-" He gently passes the cold metal bug into the hands, the two pieces clinking against each other softly.

"What does this...?" They trail off, shifting their palms to connect the two pieces. They both hold their breath as the pieces click together.

But nothing happens.

Jamil sighs, extending his hand to tale the beetle back. Mc raises their hand and it begins to shake, the ruby eyes glowing as it's metallic wings begin to buzz. Jamil's lips quirk into a small smile as it flies away, disappearing into the sand nearby.

"I was right about you," He whispers.

"What?"

"The cave can only be entered by a... diamond in the rough, so to speak." He explains, leading them towards where the beetle disappeared. "It's you."

The sand shifts underneath them and they both struggle to stand, with Mc falling and landing on their back, nearly crushing Grim in the process. The sand shifts as it rises, forming a lions head that stands with it's jaw wide open, revealing a pitch black path that goes down it's throat.

"Only one may enter here," The cave roars. "One whose worth lies far within. A diamond in the rough."

"I need you to go in there," Jamil says suddenly, walking towards the cave. "There's a lamp in there that holds more power than you can imagine. I need you to get it."

"So I go into the mysterious murder hole and grab a... lamp?" Jamil nods. "And get out. Somehow."

Jamil ignores their sarcasm and nods. "You mustn't grab anything other than the lamp."

They take a few hesitant steps forward. "...what happens if I do?"

"I'm not sure." Jamil admits, staring into the mouth of the cave.

"Okay, I'll do it-" They pause. "But only if you help me find a way home."

Jamil ponders this for a moment and nods. "That's a fair plan. I'll be waiting here."

They take a few steps into the cave, already feeling the cold from within creeping into their bones. They walk through the long hall, slipping on the sand that covers the steep slope of the throat. They hold Grim to their chest and he squirms in their grip.

"Stop that!" They scold, losing their footing and slipping down the path. They scream, sliding across the sand and tumbling when the floor finally evens out. Grim yowls as they roll off of him, accidentally stepping on his tail. "Sorry! Sorry!"

They stare around them at the gold and jewels that cover the expanse of the massive cave. They find themselves staring into a gold lined mirror, reaching out for the delicate necklace that hung from one of it's carved branches. Grim scratches their arm, leaving a red streak and they wince.

"Hey!" They glare down at him. He looks back up at them knowingly. They rub at the scratch on their arm and nod. "Right. The lamp."

They walk for a bit, struggling to keep Grim isolated to the small walkway that is dug out through the mountains of treasure. They find themselves at the base of a small mountain of treasure, noticing the glistening lamp overhead. They take a break and begin the climb, ignoring the painful scratching of the sand that's stuck in the folds of their clothes as they climb higher and higher, finally grabbing a hold of the surprisingly warm lamp.

They smile and get ready to climb down when the cave suddenly begins to shutter and crack. "What?!" They yell, looking down at Grim, who drops the ruby he was pawing at. They feel annoyance rise in the chest and they scowl, tumbling to the floor in a flash. A wave of heat surrounds them, making the air harder to breathe as they scoop up Grim and sprint away from the source.

Cracks open in the walls and they panic, launching themselves onto a hill to avoid the magma that rapidly pools around them. They gulp, sweat dripping down their face as they hold onto the cat for dear life.

"Help!" They yell, anxiety pooling in their gut. Granted, they're likely to wake up in another universe again, but they'd rather not burn to death beforehand.

Wind spirals above them and they jolt, looking up to see... nothing. The sigh, clutching Grim and the lamp closer to their chest as they screw their eyes shut, praying that this wasn't the last world they travel to.

They're quickly thrown into the air and land on a soft carpet. Mc slowly opens their eyes when Grim paws at their face and they smile nervously, looking down at the magma that flows beneath them. The carpet seems to respond to this and wiggles a bit, sending them off balance. "T...thanks?" They whisper, unsure if it can understand their language. They give it a few nervous pats and it wiggles more, seemingly pleased with their actions. They point it towards the entrance to the cave and fly as fast as they can, dodging falling rocks and jewels as they zoom towards the mouth of the cave, which closes slowly.

"Jamil!" They yell as they get close to the entrance. The boy looks for the source of the voice and, with a look of both panic and relief, his eyes land on them.

"Just drop everything!" He yells as they get closer. The sand shifts so he can't get any closer to the mouth of the lion. "Get yourselves out!"

The carpet veers suddenly and Mc screams as the lions mouth suddenly clamps closed with a bang, a gust of wind sending everyone to the ground. They hold onto Grim and the Carpet as they fall, hitting the ground with a thud. They hear a few cracks and pain shoots up their back for a moment, but they open their eyes.

"I'm still alive-" They whisper. Grim rolls over and huffs and the carpet slouches against a wall, defeated. "It's okay," They pat in between the cat's fiery ears. "I'll get us out of here."

They shuffle for the lamp, turning it over in the dim light. The side seems to have some sort of messy engraving on it, coated with sand and dust. They wipe at the spot with their thumb and it shakes, making them drop it at their feet. They grab Grim and the carpet and walk backwards, anxiety bubbling in their stomach as smoke pours out of the open spout.

A tall figure stretches and yawns, followed by two others who groan as they leave the vessel.

"That sucked!" One of the figures says in a familiar voice. Floyd?

"How do you think we felt? Trapped in there for thousands of years with you." Another voice argues. Azul!

"Just one moment- let us properly thank whomever released us first-" Jade! They think gleefully.

"Little human~ Come out come out wherever you are~!" Chills run down their spine and they think that they'd be used to the way the eel talks but no, it just gets more terrifying the more they talk to him.

They set Grim down and place a finger to their lips before stepping into the open cavern. "Oh?" Jade floats a little closer to them, tail swaying ominously. "This little thing?"

"Little?!" They jump as something pokes the small of their back.

"Yep! You look pretty small to me-" Floyd laughs.

"Okay okay whatever-" They step back. "What are you?"

"Oh? I thought you heard if us considering you came into the cave and rubbed our lamp-" Azul hums, tentacles picking up and flicking small coins everywhere.

"No! I was told to come down here!"

"Told? By who?" Jade inquires, picking up Grim and the carpet out of their hiding spot, dropping them on the ground.

"Can we figure out how to get out of this cave first?"

"Of course. You just have to wish to leave!"

"I wish to leave this dumb cave!" They shout, grabbing Grim and the carpet. They're rocketed back outside into the sand. The sun is high in the sky at this point and makes everything on their body burn, the sand on the ground hot to the touch.

"Floyd..." Azul warns, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You forgot to tell them the rest!"

"Don't feel like it."

"My apologies about my brother. As I'm sure you're aware of by now, that's Floyd and I am his twin brother, Jade. The octopus is our colleague, Azul. We are genies." Jade introduces, nothing Mc didn't know already. "Considering you were the one who rubbed the lamp, you are our new master. You will get three wishes, so long as you rub the lamp while making the wish."

"So that one didn't count?"

"Correct. There are quite a few rules on wishes you cannot make, for example you cannot make anyone fall in love with you, bring back the dead, or wish for more wishes." Mc swears under their breath at the last one, which makes Jade chuckle.

"However, considering how we've been unfairly taken advantage of earlier, in exchange we ask that you use one of your wishes on us." Azul floats in front of them, upholding the same businessmanlike aura that he was able to keep up underwater. Their mind flashes to their final moments under the sea- Floyd injured, Jade being thrown to the side, a metal rod headed towards Azul. They shake their head and nod, motioning for the octomer to continue.

"We ask that you set us free from the lamp forever."

"That sounds easy enough," Mc nods. "Okay, I'll do it."

"It's a deal, then." Azul smiles.

"Now, what do you want for your first wish?" Jade inquires. They think for a moment, mind tracing back Jamil's fearful expression as the cave closed and Kalim's sad expression when he looked over his city for the first time.

I can help them both. They think.

"Okay, my first wish is-"

"The lamp," Jade reminds, holding it out to them. They take it with an apologetic smile and begin to move their hand along the side.

"I wish to go to the palace of Agrabah!"  They announce. Floyd laughs.

"I got this one!"

[i-stan-nct-and-satan]

Not Broken (Jaehyun Mafia AU)

Not Broken Masterlist 

Jaehyun X Reader

Y/N is a burlesque dancer living in Seoul. Jaehyun is one of the most powerful mafia men in Seoul. How will Y/N survive when Jaehyun suspects that she is involved with a rival gang?

Reasons to read this story: Ten's a cross-dressing madam so..... yeah read it ya freaks.

Trigger warning for this chapter: mentions of non-consensual touching. 

Bold means it’s being said in English

A/N: This story will be released in several parts and each part released will have its own trigger warnings. It’s a slow burn story but there will be smut in later parts. Jaehyun won’t actually be introduced in the first two parts, but I hope you’ll read anyway. This story is actually inspired by my year preforming as a burlesque dancer in Seoul. The burlesque group was actually an inclusive group that frequently featured drag kings and queens.

"Kakao!"

I opened my eyes and groaned as I looked at my phone.

8:37pm. I'm late.

"Fuck"

Kakao alert from Jungwoo: "Dude, where are you? The Madam is gonna be here soon. If you're late again, she's not gonna let you preform."

I grabbed at my aching head as I read the message.

Why does it hurt so bad?

I looked over at my nightstand and saw the answer in the form of several empty bottles of soju. I could barely remember anything from the previous night, but from the looks of my bedroom, I seemed to have been by myself. I stood up to grab some water, ignoring the message from Jungwoo. Apparently he must have seen that I read it since my phone soon started vibrating and spewing out kakao talk notifications at an irritatingly fast pace.

After chugging a full bottle of water in an attempt to sooth my throbbing head, I walked to the bathroom to brush my teeth and washed my face. In the mirror I saw that I hadn’t even attempted to wash the eyeliner from the yesterday off before passing out. What was originally a subtle thin black line had now smudged over the entirety of my lid and the concave of my under eyes. I looked trashed, no, dead was a better way to put it.

I roughly rubbed the smudged mess off my face with a washcloth. I didn’t bother applying a new face of makeup since I knew that I'd be expected to put it on at the venue anyway.

I quickly gathered up my make up supplies and shoved them into my backpack. I grabbed the tote bag containing my costume along with my phone and left the trashed one-bedroom apartment, not bothering to change out of the black sweatshirt and torn jeans I woke up in. It wasn't unusual for me to fall asleep or "pass out" in my day clothes.

It wasn't that I didn't have any pajamas to change into, it was more an issue of being too drunk to care. Right now, my reasons for not putting on a new outfit was that I was too hungover not to mention the fact that I was very late.

I walked down the halls of my building, choosing to take the stairs instead of the elevator. Although anyone who stepped foot into my room would believe that I must have lived in the ghetto, my building was actually quite nice. I just happened to be a very messy person and it must show in how I present myself because my neighbors often go out of their ways to avoid me. The only person in the building who I'm actually close with is the doorman.

"Goodmorning Hyuck." I say as I grabbed my headphones out of my bag.

"Hello, Miss Y/LN." He greeted me as he held the door open for an elderly couple as they exited the building.

I chuckled at his formality. As the elderly couple walked out of sight, I turned to the short male.

"How do you do?" I said mockingly to the uniformed doorman.

Donghyuck looked up at me and rolled his eyes.

"You know that I have to keep up appearances when I'm on the clock,” He scowled.

“Hey, do you have a show tonight?" He asked.

"How can you tell?"

"Well you said good morning to me and it's nighttime so... I just assumed that means you're planning on staying up."

I looked at him sheepishly. Donghyuck knew about my nighttime activities, yet he still treated me with the same respect he gave to all the other people living in the building. That didn't mean that he didn't use casual language with me every chance he got. His reasoning being that we've drank together so many times that it shouldn't matter that he's a few years younger than me. I don't mind, in fact, I think it would be weird if he spoke politely to me since I've never been polite to him a day in my life.

My eyes buldged slightly due to the sudden realization that I only had an hour to get from Hongdae to Ittaewon.

"I gotta go. I'll see you later DongFuck!" I yelled as I ran out the door.

"HEY!!!" He screamed back at me.

I ran to Hongik exit 9 and into the sea of people trying to get to where they needed to begin their own nighttime activities. As I stepped onto the subway, I noticed that some people were already drunk. I spotted some drunk ajushi's yelling at this blonde girl asking if she's a Russian prostitute. I roll my eyes and walked over to her.

"Are you okay?"

She looked up at me and nodded. The old men started directing their comments at me instead of her.

It's better that they act this way towards me. They're comments will be justified if they talk about me.

The girl snuck away without giving me another glance and I started to feel relieved until a hand landed on my shoulder. I kept still but my eyes glanced at the screen displaying the stops.

Only 3 more stops. I just have to cope for 3 more stops.

The hand moved toward my chest and I continued to stay still. 

If I move away, they'll just keep doing it to the other girl. 

The hand felt slimy, coated with a thick layer of sweat. It was disgusting. I tried to brush the hand away to prevent it from sliding further south, but my attempts were futile as the man continued to touch me.

It wasn't until the old man caressing me grabbed at my necklace that I turned to face him and pulled my fist back.

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

I ran out of the subway gripping on to my broken necklace and bags. When I had punched the stranger he fell back taking my necklace with him, breaking its clasp in the process. The only thought in my mind was to get as far away from the subway exit as possible. It was my fourth year living in Seoul and I knew how things worked. The man could have had his dick out, but there was no way that the police would believe a foreigner like me over him.

After arriving at the venue, I greeted the girls at the door and quickly found the bathroom to collect myself. My hair was sticking out of my ponytail and slicked to my face with sweat. I checked to make sure I still had all my things, most importantly, the necklace.

I looked down at the green emerald pendant. It was about a 3 centimeters long circle wrapped in a gold-plated setting, strung on a matching gold chain. Everything about the necklace was beautiful except for the broken clasp.

"Oh my god Y/N! You are so late."

I jumped at the sudden voice.

"Sorry Snoopy."

It was Jungwoo. I hadn't noticed him come in despite the loud clacking of his heels.

"I guess it's no big deal. To be honest, I'm pretty sure that the Madam hasn't even noticed that you weren't here earlier. She was just going crazy backstage looking for her wig. You should have seen her. It was so funny."

Jungwoo started speaking in a high pitched voice trying to imitate the madam.

"Where's my hair? Where's my hair?"

We both started cracking up at the impersonation.

"Come one!" Jungwoo said as he grabbed my hand, still laughing.

"You're the only one who’s not even close to being done with makeup," He continued.

As he walked me out of the bathroom and towards the dressing rooms, I examined his costume. He wore a long burgundy red velvet dress with long white sleeves. On his head, he adorned a long brunette wig. It seemed to be a very cheap wig as it was already starting to knot into a rat’s nest. Overall, it was a very modest outfit compared to the blue latex mini skirt with neon green tassel pasties he wore during our last show.

"What's your act tonight?" I asked.

"Wonho and I are doing a titanic theme tonight. You would know this if you actually came to our last practice."

Jungwoo was one of the burlesque queens. There were many in the group as they made up almost half of the dancers. Since Ittaewon was filled with foreigners, the queer scene was thriving here and it really showed in our burlesque group.

"What happened to your necklace?"

"Oh I broke it on the subway." I replied hoping Jungwoo wouldn't inquire further.

Luckily for me, he didn't.

"Want me to fix it for you?" He said as he examined the jewelry in my hands.

"It's just a broken clasp right?"

"You would fix it for me?" I asked as I hand the necklace to the feminine male.

"Yeah of course! My costume jewelry breaks all the time. Damn the heavy things. This should only take a few minutes. I'll go get my tools."

Without another word, Jungwoo left, allowing me to get started on my makeup. Tonight I was supposed to be the final act, as per usual, which meant that my costume was the most extravagant. 

For my makeup, I applied gold lipstick along with gold eyeliner, and a glitter highlight. The theme of my act was, you guessed it, gold. Even my costume was brimming with gold detailing. All fake of course, but it was still dripping with elegance. I quickly wrapped my hair into a hairnet and put on my white-blonde wig.

I had been preforming for around two years now. I found the group through a friend who had ended up leaving Korea. I quickly proved myself to be one of the best dancers in the group although some people liked to focus on my lack of attendance even though my acts often recieved the most praise out of every show.

It's not that I thought I was better than my fellow dancers. It's just that I happened to do quite well for myself as a dancer. Through dancing alone, I've been able to pay for my apartment in Hongdae, pay off my student loans, and my other debts, all while being able to afford a few luxuries here and there.

I began to take off my day clothes before I was interrupted when a familiar face entered the dressing room.

The Madam.

"Haven't you ever heard of knocking?" I sneered at the short figure that approached me.

"Haven't you ever heard of coming on time?" The figure snarkily replied, taking a drag from her cigarette.

The Madam, or Madam Ten, as some of us called her, was the leader of the group. She directed the show, organized it, taught choreography, and had final call on every detail of our preformances. 

The thing about The Madam, was that she wasn't exactly a madam. Like Jungwoo, she was a drag queen, but she committed to the role more. None of us had ever actually seen the older out of drag. Some assumed that she may have identified as a woman, since anytime anyone said differently, she would scoff and often would reply with the same two answers.

When it was a woman addressing her as a man, she would say something like,

"Darling. When you refer to me as a he, you are merely pointing out the sad truth that even a man can easily be prettier than you."

When it was a man, she would walk up to the poor soul and say something vulgar, such as "You won't be calling me a he when you are screaming my name later."

Madam Ten was roughly in her 50's yet she was still dripping in womanly charm and beauty. Her face was wrinkled from all the years of smoking cigarettes, but she had more knowledge about seduction than all of us, so her age rarely mattered to the men around her.

She wore her hair in a sort pixie cut. Her red dress draped to the floor. She had an array of colorful scarves wrapped around her neck and shoulders. Heavy jewelry adorned her fingers and neck. Her ruby lips wrapped around the long black straw that was encasing the end of her cigarette.

"On a normal night, I would have given your act to Eunwoo as punishment for your... tardiness."

I raised my eyebrows.

"But...?" I questioned anticipating her to continue her explanation.

"But despite Eunwoo's ability being equal to yours, in my opinion even better..." She continued, snarkily mumbling the last part.

"He's lacking your certain assets, which I believe our special audience members would prefer tonight." She cooed, not even trying to be subtle about staring at my undressed body.

"Special audience members?" I asked as I turned away to find my costume.

"It seems as though our venue has been...reserved for a private party this evening."

"The whole venue?" I gasped.

"Yes. And it seems as though I've had to make some last-minute changes to the show tonight in order to appeal to our audience's specific tastes."

"What kinds of changes?" I inquired, continuing to dress myself.

"Sadly, tonight is going to focus on the more traditionally feminine tonight. It's such a shame that men nowadays are still so afraid to explore their sexualities." She rested her hand on her face as if she were genuinely contemplating something.

I started zipping up my costume before I realized what she was implying.

"Jungwoo's not going to be allowed to perform tonight is he?"

Madam Ten walked up behind me and pulled the zipper of my costume up the remainder of my back.

"We are all expected to make sacrifices sometimes."

This wasn't fair. Jungwoo worked harder than me at everything he did. It wasn't fair that I should get to preform while he's expected to roll over just because some last-minute guests didn’t want to see a drag queen preform burlesque.

 And what about the Madam? Madam Ten would never change the line-up for a show just to appease the preferences of some rich snooty straight assholes. In the past, whenever an audience member complained about the less conventional dancers, it would end with her having the source of the complaint swiftly thrown to the curb. The Madam often referred to these men as lacking taste or ability to appreciate the real artistry of burlesque, but tonight she's acting as if her submission isn't even something to be questioned.

Whoever could afford to rent out the whole venue must have a lot of both money and power to cause the Madam to act this way. Who could these guests be in order for the Madam to choose to compromise the show's integrity?

"I should go talk to Jungwoo." I commented as I turned to leave the room, but Madam Ten stops me, grabbing my hand.

"I already sent him home." She explained reaching into the pocket of her dress.

"But he did leave me this to give to you."

She turned me so that I was facing the full length mirror and wraps my newly fixed necklace around my neck. I was unable to examine the fixed clasp, but it's ability to stay on my neck reassured me of it's functionality.

Madam Ten started walking out of the dressing room, motioning for me to follow. She walked towards the backstage curtains. Once we arrived Madam Ten slung her arms gently around my shoulders and brought her lips closer to my ears.

"Tell me Y/N, are you familiar with NCT 127?"

My eyes bulged upon hearing the name. NCT 127 was one of the most infamous Mafia gangs in Seoul. Specializing in drug trade and weapon imports, NCT 127 was known for it's ties with the police, making it the gang untouchable. Besides that, most people don't know very much about the group. People know that it exists, but most of the group's actions completed with such secrecy that no one outside of the group is completely sure about the how far their reach is. Some have specified that they have so much power in Seoul that even the president had been accused of being in the leader's pocket.

I turned to face the Madam.

"It seems as though they will be making up our audience this evening."

Madam Ten lifted back the curtain ever so slightly revealing the faces within the crowd. Missing, were the familiar faces of our loyal regulars, only to be replaced with more intimidating facades. Tough looking men wearing dashing suits littered the tables and bar areas. Many were sitting down in an organized manor, but even more were standing in small groups, wondering around, probably to get a drink, or worse, to harass the waitresses.

It was in this moment that I felt somewhat relieved that Jungwoo was sent home. I couldn't even imagine how these men would treat a man in drag if this was how they treated the female staff.

Cat calls made up most of the noise in the room, yet it seemed as though they were all coming from a small group of men seated at the main table. 

It was normal for us to seat astonished guests at the table closest to center stage. This way, whoever was deemed important enough to be seated there, could have the best view of the performers. Also, since the stage wasn't elevated, the performers would often walk into the crowd attempting to raise audience participation. Sometimes it would be asking an audience member to help remove an article of clothing. Other times it could be a full-on lap dance, depending on how wild or trustworthy the audience was that particular night. Either way, audience participation was always centered around this table.

Seated at/surrounding the table were five men. They all looked to be in their early or late twenties. Although everyone else in the room seemed intimidating in the conventional "thug" way, these men were intimidating in different way.

"Handsome, aren't they?" Madam Ten cooed almost as if these men were celebrities' whose presence should be appreciated, instead of ruthless mafia members who intimidated their ways into the audience, but I couldn't disagree.

Each of the men varied greatly in image, yet to say that any of them were less that godly would be a obvious lie.

Two men were standing up at their seats trying to control their obviously drunk colleague who kept making passes at the waitresses as they walked by. The drunk one was short but still very handsome with his golden bleached blonde hair and charming laugh. It seemed as though he would have no trouble picking up women if it weren’t for his brazenly drunk behavior.

As a waitress went to check on their table, the blonde man had slapped the poor girl's ass as he spoke to her in English.

"What do you say me and you get out of this overpriced bar and get ourselves a real drink?" He said as he put his hand on her waist and pulled her closer to him. The poor girl let out a small shriek.

I recognized her as one of the new girls on staff. Really innocent and sweet, but she normally did well when dealing with drunk costumers when they got out of line, but this time our customers were irregular compared to what she was used to.

The girl froze.

"Come on baby. Don't you wanna have a little fun? What's wrong?" The blonde asshole continued.

"Mark, Stop making a fool of yourself and it down." A tall brunette grabbed him and plopped the blonde back into his seat as if he weighed nothing. "She probably doesn't even speak English." He continued as he whispers something into the waitress's ear and hands her what appeared to be four 50,000won bills. As she quickly moved away, I put two and two together and figure that he was probably asking her to forget about his friend's indiscretions.

"I wasn't even...hiccup...speaking English Johnny." The blonde drunkenly continued mumbling in English as he tried to get up to follow the girl, only to be set back down again by the third standing party.

This third party stayed silent but nodded at the tall brunette previously referred to as Johnny.

Huh. It seemed like maybe this guy is either the strong silent type or he doesn't speak English. Whereas the other two seemed to be American like me. I noticed how the two spoke English in an accent very similar to my own along with the mentioning of their English names.

"Maybe when you were working with the Dreamies in the Canadian unit, getting drunk and harassing waitresses was acceptable, but now that you're working for the big boss, you have to keep up appearances. Okay Newbie?" Johnny lectured.

I started mentally cursing myself for assuming that the two English speakers were from America, not even considering the option that they could be from Canada, only to have my thoughts interrupted by the Madam.

"They might have used their power to influence the program of tonight's show, but I cannot tolerate any ruckus they make." Madam Ten gestured toward Mark.

Madam Ten started walking towards the doors leading out to the audience, but before leaving, she glanced at me and raised one ring covered index finger towards me, as if queuing me to stay put while she dealt with the unruly audience member. Then without waiting for me to confirm that I understand her silent request, she started to approach the three men, hips swaying ever so seductively.

Even though Madam Ten may have let the Mafia gang intimidate her into going with whatever changes to the show that were demanded by the irregular guests, I was relieved to hear that she still wouldn't tolerate disruptions within the audience.

I lifted the curtain up again and watched as Madam Ten made her way to the bar where the noisy blonde and his silent colleague had wondered off to.

"Hello boys," The Madam greeted the two suited men in a strict yet somehow still flirtatious manner.

Both men raised their eyes to meet the Madam's.

Stressing a smile, she continued. "It seems as though you are making my staff feel uncomfortable."

Madam Ten placed a hand on the lapel of the silent man's jacket hoping to incite a response.

"When young boys don't know how to play nicely, that's when they get placed in time out."

Mark looked up at the hand places on his hyung's chest and scoffed, further proving that the comparison of him to a toddle might not be that far of a stretch.

The third man looked at the madam with kind eyes and smiled. For a split second I was relieved that the situation didn't seem hostile. That was, until the third opened his mouth.

"Well what happens to old bats when they don't know when to fucking shut their traps?"

I couldn’t help but let out a gasp.

The third man had black hair with vibrant blue highlights. Despite the obvious fact that he was a member of the most ruthless gang/mafia in Seoul, he had somehow been born with an extremely innocent looking face. One could even allude his facial features to that of a baby rabbit. Yet he spit out his response like venom proving that one shouldn’t judge a bunny by it's adorable features, but by how hard it bites.

Madam Ten's jaw dropped, her confident facade having been completely shattered. Anger visibly erupted from her foundation covered pores. I watched her as her hand balled up into a fist, but before she could raise it even an inch, Johnny inserted himself in between the madam and his formerly silent colleague.

"Doyoung! How could you say that to such a beautiful young lady?" Although he was speaking to Doyoung, he didn't break eye contact with the Madam for even a second.

"Don't you realize that we are guests in this lovely establishment and should be thankful that we are blessed to have such a beautiful hostess?"

Johnny grabbed the Madam's hand melting away her fist as he planted a kiss on her ring covered fingers.

"Normally, I like to kiss a woman's hand without being obstructed by the presence of rings." Johnny looked up at the Madam while Doyoung rolled his eyes at his colleague's over the top mannerisms.

"Do any of these rings signify that I should address you as Mrs. instead of Miss?" Johnny slightly inquired as he winked at the Madam.

Ugh Barf. There is no way that the Madam is buying this.

An annoyingly long string of giggles escaped from Madam Ten's mouth.

"You can refer to me as Madam Ten, and no, there is no Mr. Ten." She responded as she wrapped Johnny's arm around hers. 

"Instead of playing with such immature young boys, you should accompany me for some drinks in my private room before the show," Madam ten stated shooting a glare toward Mark and Doyoung.

Before Johnny could even respond, the Madam started leading him to her private quarters backstage. Realizing that he may have laid on the charm a little too strong, Johnny glanced towards his colleagues giving them a desperate "Help me out of this" look, only for it to be returned with a smirk from Doyoung and an empty concerned look from Mark.

Once Madam Ten and her new boytoy left my vision, my eyes followed the two  men as they returned to their original table.

Still sitting at the table were two other men. 

Both men were wearing navy blue pin striped suits, and both were sitting silently, but that was about the only thing they had in common visually. One was leaning so far back in his chair it seemed as if sliding down one more inch would end in him slipping onto the floor, yet he seemed perfectly relaxed in his posture as he rested his left foot on top of his left knee. The other man was sitting up so straight that physical therapists could use a picture of him as a guide for perfect posture.

His hair was styled in a side swept undercut. A style that suited the man's angular face. He was handsome, but he didn't have any strange features that stood out. No piercings, no crazy colored hair, no flashy jewelry except for a Gucci watch on his left wrist. Even though the watch was flashy in of itself, it still would have probably been considered to have been one of the plainer Gucci watch designs.

He was dressed like an accountant. The most attractive accountant in the world, but still it was hard to describe how little he stood out. Which is almost sad because when examined, some would probably place him above the rest of his colleagues in terms of visuals.

Upon closer inspection, I was able to make out that the slouching mean's hair was a dark shade of purple that looked almost black under the dark lighting of the room. Two small loop piercings adorned the ear that I could see, and bold purple eye makeup was smudged around both his eyes. Well, at least I thought it was makeup. With how dark the room is before showtime, it's possible that he had two black eyes, but it doesn't seem likely that a man can look so mesmerizingly gorgeous with two black eyes.

Compared to his striped suit seat neighbor, he looked like a rebellious teen. In fact, he looked the most like a gang member out of all of them.

God, I wonder how I didn’t notice him before.

The way they dressed was so professional looking that it would be understandable to forget that these were horrid men that committed violent crimes on the regular.

I looked up at a clock on the wall and realized that it was almost showtime. I started heading back to my dressing room for a drink before the show, but as soon as I passed by the Madam's personal quarters I heard muffled voices. After realizing that nothing too adult was taking place, I couldn't help but press my ear against the door hoping to eavesdrop on the unlikely duo.

"Ummm I..I.. Umm don't you think that we should get back before the show starts?"

The confident flirt that I watched shamelessly flirt with the Madam earlier had dissipated and been replaced by a scared baby deer being hunted by a hungry lion.

"Come one lover boy, this won't take long at all."

Eck! I could almost hear her wink through the door.

My thoughts are interrupted by a sudden voice.

"Isn't it considered rude to eavesdrop?"

I suddenly jumped back and let out a small shriek. I turned towards the voice only to see the purple haired an from earlier leaning on the wall right next to me with his arms crossed,

"Oof," He said as he brought a finger to his ear as if responding to my scream.

"I didn't mean to scare you." He took a step closer towards me before resting an arm on the wall above my head.

"I heard that one of my colleagues needed to be collected from backstage, but that doesn't explain why you are here....Unless....Perhaps you were hoping to hear something besides conversation."

He looked down at me and smirked causing my face to flush. Even in heavy stage makeup I could tell that he noticed the new blush on my cheeks. I just stared at him, terrified, or maybe mesmerized, probably both.

"Okay so I guess you aren't actually as perverted as I originally suspected. It's okay though. I like good girls, but judging from your getup, you must have a bit wild side."

I looked down at the floor and realize that I was wearing my burlesque costume. Even though I have worn much more revealing clothing in front of hundreds of audience members, there was something about this guy that made me feel like I was naked in the most uncomfortable way. His eyes burned holes into my body.

"Yuta, did you find the boss?" The man with the undercut hairstyle from before walked around the corner and stopped when he saw us.

Yuta rolled his eyes before taking his arm off of the wall and turned to face the man.

"Always one to pop up during the most inconvenient times. Right, Taeil?"

Taeil looked at me with visible concern showing on his face.

"Leave the poor girl alone. I swear to god, sometimes you're worse than Mark."

Suddenly, a high-pitched scream arose from behind the door and Taeil hurriedly opened it while Yuta merely let out a bored yawn.

My body stressed with worry for the Madam.

This Johnny bastard could have just left the room if he didn't want to do anything with the Madam. He didn’t have to hurt her.

I looked inside the room expecting a bloodied Madam only to be struck with the sudden realization....Ten wasn't the one who screamed.

Johnny was lying on the bed, face covered with heavy lipstick marks, and the Madam on top of him.

You could tell that Johnny was not having as much fun as the Madam was, but she was as oblivious as always.

Having noticed his colleagues had come to his rescue, Johnny sat up. The Madam lifted herself up off of the bed and in turn, off Johnny.

"Johnny... Umm" Taeil stuttered.

Yuta entered the room and tossed a handkerchief to the lipstick covered man.

"Clean yourself off. The boss will be here any minute." Yuta stated calmly. The smirk on his face even more prominent than before.

There are more of them?

"What a shame it is to have such a..." Ten looked at us, "unfortunate interruption," she continued.

"Don't worry Madam. We'll bring him back to you after the show," Yuta winked and Johnny, who was wiping his face freezes in fear, making me feel almost sorry for him. 

Sadly, due to the power dynamics in gender roles, Madam Ten's lack of consent was being played off as a joke by his friend, instead of an actual close call for a possibly traumatic event. A kind of event I almost went through myself.

"I should probably go to greet the young man." The madam fixed her wig. 

"I should at least see the man responsible for tonight's sudden change in theme."

[mxliv-oftheendless]

Lovers Eye

Happy Valentines Day, everybody!! Hope you’re having a great day and finding great ways to celebrate love even if that love isn’t the romantic kind of love that society pushes is the only kind of love worth celebrating. Ironically, that’s what I’m doing here lol. But I’m also celebrating the platonic kind because IT’S @cosmicrealmofkissteria​‘s BIRTHDAY!!!! So I hope you like this humble birthday present I wrote for her! 

So a fun fact for everyone: in the early 1800s during the Regency Era in England, there was a trend where a person would give a loved one, usually a romantic partner, a necklace that had a close-up picture of their eye. It was called a “lovers eye”, and it was a way for their identity to stay a secret because only their eye was shown. It’s pretty dang romantic, if you ask me, and that’s how this story was born! Enjoy!!

Was it possible to feel like you were floating even though your feet were firmly on the ground? Because that was how Tomaziel had been feeling lately. 

He just couldn’t help feeling so happy, especially when Starchild was there. They had exchanged so many letters by now, so much he had lost count. But all of them were saved, tucked away in a dresser drawer if he ever wanted to reread them. And he had, many times. 

Even after months, a part of him still wondered if he was dreaming. He never thought in a million years Starchild would ever take a chance on him, and had been happy to simply be good friends and nothing more. He had even cherished that good friendship. And now, to have them become something more... it still felt like a dream. 

But it was real. The Spark was real. The romantic words Starchild wrote in his letters were real. The sensation of his heart fluttering whenever Starchild laughed was definitely real... and he knew because he was experiencing it right now as he watched Starchild clap a hand over his mouth to control the laughter threatening to burst out. 

It was late at night and they were in Tomaziel’s chambers, sitting on his bed and talking. Starchild was on a rather impromptu trip to Jendell, due to Princess Monique practically begging Ace to ask if he would visit on her birthday. It was only a day-long visit, and he would be leaving in the morning, but Tomaziel was willing to savor the time he could spend with him. 

Tomaziel couldn’t help smiling at Starchild and quipping, “You do realize it sounds like you’re laughing at Eric being hit on, right?” 

“I’m not laughing at that,” Starchild sniggered. “I’m laughing at what ended up happening.” 

“Well, what happened?” 

Starchild pushed back his hair and tried to control himself.  “Okay. So Eric told Ace that the man was trying to come onto him, and Ace said—” he wheezed and doubled over. “He said—I’m sorry,” he snickered. 

Tomaziel couldn’t help laughing himself. “Come on, tell me! What happened?” He wanted to know what was so funny. 

“Sorry, sorry,” Starchild giggled, pushing back his hair and trying to control himself. “Ace said, and I quote, “Let’s make out so he thinks we’re together and he’ll leave you alone.” And they did.” 

Tomaziel’s jaw dropped open in disbelief. “They made out?” 

“They made out.” Starchild looked like he was going to burst from the laughter he was holding in. 

“Right there in the club?” A wide, incredulous smile was forming on his face. Honestly, it did sound like something King Ace would do, but it was still a bit of a shock to hear. 

“Right there in the club!” Starchild finally gave up and burst out laughing, doubling over to hide his face in his knees. 

Tomaziel threw back his head and started laughing. “Was there—” he had to take a moment to contain his laughter long enough to finish. “Was there tongue?”

“I didn’t see, but I’m pretty sure there was.” Starchild giggled at the memory. “Oh, you should have seen Eric. He was shocked speechless. And Heather...” His smile faded for a moment, then reappeared with a light laugh. “She was laughing so hard.” 

“Ace just went for it, didn’t he?” Tomaziel asked knowingly. 

Starchild laughed again. “He did. He just swooped in and made out with him right there.”

“I wish I could have seen that,” he snickered. “Should we tell the Queen what Ace did?” 

“I’m not sure... Do you think we should?” 

“Oh, definitely. She would have a field day with this.” 

Starchild giggled. “I can tell her at breakfast tomorrow before I leave,” 

At that, Tomaziel’s smile faded a little. He didn’t really want to be reminded that he couldn’t spend more time with Starchild, not until he either went to KISSteria or Starchild found a reason to go on another trip to Jendell. 

He couldn’t help sighing and reaching out to graze Starchild’s fingers. “I do wish you could stay longer,” he said aloud. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m so happy to see you, but I just wish you didn’t have to leave tomorrow.” 

Starchild took his hand with a sympathetic look and squeezed it. “I know,” he agreed. “I’m sorry I never get to see you as often as I would like. Do you... Do you want to keep writing letters?” 

“Of course I do,” Tomaziel nodded immediately. “I love writing to you.” 

The smile that graced Starchild’s face made his heart flutter again. “So do I... I do understand wanting to see each other more.” He let out a sheepish laugh. “I keep sketching pictures of you.” 

Tomaziel grinned widely. “Really? Can I see them sometime?” 

“Of course; I can send them with letters.” Then Starchild’s eyes suddenly lit up. “Oh, that reminds me! I wanted to give you something before I left.” 

“Starchild, the Princess is the only one that’s supposed get gifts today,” Tomaziel reminded him jokingly as he swung his legs to get off the bed. 

Starchild laughed as he went over to his jacket, which was hanging off a bedpost. “I don’t think she’ll mind. Besides, it’s a special gift.” 

Tomaziel leaned in curiously as he moved to take something out of his jacket pocket. “What is it?” 

He took out a small black box and moved to climb back onto the bed, then handed it to him with an eager smile. “Open it,”

When Tomaziel opened the lid, he found a gold chain necklace sitting on a bed of dark blue velvet. The pendant was a simple gold oval shape, and contained an image of a beautiful brown eye with strands of dark hair falling over it. It suddenly occurred to him that the eye looked familiar...

He held up the necklace beside Starchild’s face and looked between the two. “Is this your eye?” he finally realized.

Starchild smiled and nodded. “It is. It’s called a lovers eye necklace. I had it made with an image of my eye for you. I thought... well, I thought it would be a nice gift. Do you like it?”

Tomaziel’s heart swelled as he gazed at the necklace. Somehow it was made even better by how it wasn’t too extravagant; just a simple gold necklace. Starchild knew he wasn’t the extravagant type. No one had ever given him a gift this meaningful before.

“Starchild, this... this is wonderful.” A touched smile bloomed across his face as he looked at Starchild. “I love it.”

Starchild smiled happily back, then laughed as he unfastened the clasp on the chain. “Are you putting it on right now?”

“Of course,” Tomaziel grinned at him. He fastened the clasp around his neck and turned the pendant around to look down at it with a smile. “I’ll never take this off.” 

His smile widened a little when Starchild’s cheeks turned pink and he let out a giggle. “Smooth talker,” 

Tomaziel chuckled. “Really, this is amazing. Thank you...” He gave a sheepish laugh. “I don’t know how I can repay you for this.”

“You don’t have to repay me,” Starchild shook his head. “It’s yours; don’t worry about repaying me.”

“But it’s beautiful... I feel as if I should.”

“Well...” Starchild’s smile turned impish. “If you insist... you can repay me with a kiss.”

Tomaziel laughed. “I can definitely do that.” He cupped Starchild’s cheek and leaned in to give him a soft kiss. He could feel the necklace around his neck and smiled into the kiss. Starchild probably thought he was joking, but he meant what he said; he was just so touched by this gift that he really never wanted to take it off. 

-KISSTERIA-

MANY YEARS LATER

It was early in the morning, too early to get up just yet. And yet, Starchild was awake and sitting up in bed. His head was leaned back against the headboard and his eyes were closed, savoring the quiet and calm before he had to get out of bed and be King for the day. 

At that thought, his eyes opened and he looked down at the man lying beside him and his lips drifted up in a faint smile. Tomaziel lay in bed, still sound asleep, and Starchild simply observed him, not having the heart to wake him up. He couldn’t help admiring his face in the daylight seeping through the windows, and almost wanted to get out of bed to grab his sketchbook so he could capture the beautiful, tranquil image. Even after being married to Tomaziel for many years now, the sight of his beautiful husband still took his breath away. 

His eyes traveled from his face down to his bare chest, and he smiled as his own eye gazed back up at him. The necklace showed signs of age; the gold had darkened, even after being polished many times, and if he looked hard enough he knew he would see a couple small dents. But there it was in the same place it had always been, still around Tomaziel’s neck and resting on his chest like it really did belong there.

He watched the necklace rise and fall with Tomaziel’s breathing with a fond smile. He had always figured Tomaziel would at some point take off the necklace. Maybe there would even come a day where the necklace was taken off and never put back on again. But that day never came; the necklace stayed around his neck, never taken off. Even after years, whole decades, Tomaziel really had kept that innocent little vow he’d made when Starchild first gave it to him. 

Starchild reached out and gently brushed away a few strands of hair that were stuck to Tomaziel’s mouth. At his touch, Tomaziel stirred, and after a few moments he turned his head and slowly opened his eyes. Starchild smiled at him when he met his eyes. “Good morning,”

“Mmph... Good—” Tomaziel was interrupted by a wide yawn, making Starchild smile affectionately as his entire face scrunched up. “Mmm, good morning,” he finally said, his voice low from sleep. “Is it time to get up?” 

“Not yet,” Starchild smiled playfully. “Have I ever told you how pretty you are?” 

Tomaziel gave a snort of a laugh. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say the King of KISSteria was flirting with me.” 

“Oh, I only flirt with my husband.” He grinned at him and tapped his nose. “Oh wait, that’s you.” 

“Lucky me,” 

They shared a laugh, then Starchild fell quiet again as he looked back down at the lovers eye pendant. 

“I’ll never take this off.” His heart fluttered at the memory of Tomaziel saying the words. It was an innocent little promise, said in the heat of the moment, and yet... 

“What’s on your mind, love?” Tomaziel asked softly.

Starchild couldn’t help smiling at the tiredness in his voice. “Just thinking...” he delicately picked up the pendant. “I can’t remember the last time you took this off.”

“Neither can I,” Tomaziel smiled. “Have I ever taken it off?”

“You might have...” Starchild chuckled. “But I can’t remember.”

Tomaziel chuckled softly. “Well, I did say I would never take it off.”

Starchild smiled lovingly at his husband. “You did.” He kissed his forehead. “Why don’t you sleep a little longer?” 

His husband’s eyes were already drifting closed. He settled back into the pillows with a sigh, then mumbled, “I never did repay you for the necklace,” 

Starchild couldn’t help rubbing his thumb over the edge of the pendant. “Don’t worry, my Knight,” he murmured. “You’ve more than repaid me.” He smiled down at his husband as he dozed back off to sleep and kissed his forehead again. “I love you.” 

A smile crept over Tomaziel’s face. “I love you too,”