#like i was able to somewhat let my guard down at the store while christmas shopping last night

[deceptive-daydreams]

this is kinda dumb but its almost been a month since ive had any alcohol and ive only had one edible on like a friday night which is...an accomplishment i guess

[kinktae]

beyond the story: bitchin’

Hi friends! I hope you are all staying safe and healthy during these tough times! I really wanted to put something out there as a thank you to just how much support Bitchin’ got. You guys really are incredible. So, although this story has come to an end, I wanted to properly close the Bitchin’ chapter by giving you all a behind the scenes look at Bitchin’ and everything that went into writing it. This includes hidden easter eggs, backstories, alternative plot-lines, and a short drabble of the Bitchin’ cast 10 years after the story’s end.

Without further ado, please enjoy and thank you again for all your love. You have all of mine.

CHAPTER ONE – PARTNERS

Ah, yes, the start of this whole wild ride. I’ve always loved the whole nerd/popular person trope in fanfics, so it was only a matter of time before I tried my hand at it too. One thing I was adamant about was not making this a “popular person turns nerd hot/confident/better” fic as its kind of one of my least favorite cliches. With that in mind, and knowing that I was going to allude to TATBILB’s contract, I decided that I wanted Y/N to gain as much from the deal as Jungkook did. No blackmail, no just agreeing for the hell of it – Y/N was going to further herself and her dreams given the opportunity.

The beginning of the chapter is where the two are most separated and dissimilar throughout the whole story. It wasn’t that they were fundamentally different, it was that they approached life differently. Y/N was frustrated at how superficial Jungkook seemed, because she believes there is much more to life than just kicking your feet up and cracking jokes.

On the other hand, Jungkook didn’t understand why Y/N was so tense and on guard. To him, life was meant to enjoy and not take so seriously. Which makes sense, given that he grew up with minimal rules and minimal worries (bare minimum partners wassup !) 

“So, do we have a deal? Partners?” There was mischievous timber to his words, the kind that made you feel as if this would all later come back to bite you in the ass.

Pushing that pestering thought away, you took his hand into yours, holding his eyes as you gave it a firm shake.

“Partners.”

God, this bit. I knew from the minute I wrote it that I was writing the ending of bitchin’ along with it. I knew this was exactly how I was going to end this story, bc the word partners has multiple means right? In chapter 1, this meant business partners, but in the final chapter… it means life partners. Idk, I’m just still really happy with this writing decision :D

CHAPTER TWO – THE CONTRACT

Dearest Yara. We meet her in chapter two don’t we? Yara is completely based off of my irl best friend Yara who is a writer and who helped me A LOT with this story. She was my biggest supporter throughout figuring out this crazy plot. It was initially only about seven parts, but with her help I managed to bump it up to 10! Everybody say thank you Yaraaaa.

You were angry, that much was evident to her. Yara was sat in your shared dorm’s living room, a thick blanket engulfing her small frame. You briefly glanced towards the TV, it was tuned into MTV, the familiar music video of Every Breath You Take by The Police playing, before directing your glare back onto the copper-haired girl.

The song reference is a direct allusion to writer Yara’s fic, which is one of my favorite fics by her. She was actively writing it around the start of our friendship so it only felt right to pay respects to her. The introduction of her character felt necessary imo bc I wanted to make sure Y/N had a life outside Jungkook. Plus, I got to use the scenes between the two girls as a way to reference the music and culture scene. Yara is especially a fan of the powerful women in the music industry at the time, i.e., Madonna, Annie Lennox, Cyndi Laupner, etc.) Yara is a raging feminist and believer in sexual freedom and libery for women, we do in fact have to stan.

“How old do you think your sister is?”

“Hey, don’t sass me. For your information, Lyanna still has all her Care Bear tapes. She threw a hissy fit when my mom tried to give them away last Christmas.” Yara recalled.

Lyanna is one of writer Yara’s past pseudonyms. She always used to joke about how whenever she read it, it was confusing because there was Y/N, Yara and Lyanna, which were technically all her lolol.

FUNNY STORY ABOUT THE CONTRACT I INSERTED INTO THIS PICTURE… Twitter found it and made it into somewhat of a meme because no one knew it came from a fic rip. I was actually rly embarrassed and even wrote some posts about how much twitter scared me on my blog LMAO. but THEN weirdly enough, I actually stumbled upon a small community on twitter who actually found my fic and would TWEET ABOUT IT!!! LIKE REACTIONS TO EACH UPDATE!!! I wish I could go back in time and remember how giddy I was the first time I found a tweet about my fic. The fanfic community on twitter gave me a new love for the site (which I had previously had removed myself from because of its toxicity) and I have met so many wonderful people because of it. People even made themselves a little twitter group chat to talk about my fics, and now we are all friends! I miss posting a chapter of bitchin’ and refreshing my twitter feed as all my mutuals would post memes and live tweet their reactions. God that made me so fucking happy.

CHAPTER THREE – THE ROLLERSKATING DATE

I love the bickering in this chapter, because unlike the bickering in the first chapter, it’s actually less hostile and more playful. Y/N is slowly letting her guard down to the very persistently charming Jungkook.

“Woah. Family of six, huh? So you have siblings then.” He noted.

“Yep. Three.”

“Tell me about them.”

Looking up from where you were slipping on your second skate, you met Jungkook’s eyes, surprised to see genuine interest in them.

I actually originally had Y/N brush him off here. I was going to wait until the drunk party scene for Y/N to open up about her family and relationship with her sisters. But then I kind of thought to myself… Why? Y/N made peace with it and doesn’t hold onto those insecurities anymore. And objectively, Jungkook hasn’t proven himself to be a bad person so… I let Y/N open herself up to him.

“Then there’s the twins, Rosa and Lia.”

“Hold on. Twins? Wait… did they go to our high school?” Jungkook asked, his interest in this conversation doubled.

“Yep. They were two grades above us.” You confirmed.

“Oh shit, yeah, I remember your sisters, they were mad hot.” Jungkook let out a low whistle, before stiffening, flashing you an apologetic look. “Uh, in a totally non-meathead way.”

You offered the scared-looking boy a small smile, shaking your head.

Some of y’all notice but, Rosa and Lia are a blatant homage to my name: Roselia. ACTUALLY some form of my name can be found in every one of the rewind series fics, including upcoming ones. I’ll give a cookie to whoever can find every single mention hehe.

“I told you it was dumb.” You laughed nervously.

It wasn’t that you cared much about what Jungkook thought but you had a feeling a guy like him, who was popular and carefree, wouldn’t be able to sympathize in the way you would like him to.

“No, I’m just… surprised, that’s all.”

Jungkook certainly was surprised. You had built up quite the impression on him from the very moment you two met. It was hard to imagine that the girl who was so unapologetically herself was ever unsure or insecure.

Somehow, the idea tugged at his heart, as if he understood you more if only just a little.

From the get go, Jungkook was extremely drawn to just how confident and secure Y/N was in herself. I knew I wanted Y/N to be unapologetically sure of herself and in her abilities. Something I didn’t want, however, was for frat boy!jungkook’s only personality traits to be liking sex and being a cocky bastard (although I am a big consumer of that trope heh). Jungkook is actually canonly incredibly insecure. He lacks a real sense of self, which is why he is so desperate for Kiri back. His relationship with Kiri at that time was a big part of what he thought was himself. He has somewhat of low self esteem tbh which is why he’ll go back to a woman who treated him unfairly. That’s why he comes off the way he does in the first chapter and why Y/N thinks he has a big ego... he’s overcompensating. He finds it so endlessly fascinating that Y/N, in all her confident glory, was actually once super insecure. He admires her all the more once she opens up about her past.

“Oh, Rosa is an intern for our hometown’s newspaper but between you and me those assholes don’t even let her write. She does coffee and burger runs for men in charge. And Lia sells ice cream at the mall.”

“What about your brother?” Jungkook asked.

“He’s training to be a cop just like my dad.”

“And your mom?”

“She works at a convenience store.”

All their careers resemble people in the latest Stranger Things season (Nancy, Steve, Hopper, and Joyce). Fun Cameo there.

“What’s wrong?” You wondered, following his eyes.

“October 16th, 1985. 6:48PM.”

“Yes. That’s today’s date and time. What about it?” You pressed, growing confused.

“Remember it.” He warned.

“Why?”

“It’s when I fell in love with you.”

This iconic line I actually got from the real Jeon Jungkook himself. While Jungkook wasn’t actually in love with Y/N here, it certainly was a cute way for him to express his admiration for her.

OH HERE’S A FUN FACT: the hickey scene at the end of this chapter where JK and Y/N kiss for the first time was actually supposed to be Yara giving Y/N the hickey like the best friend she is. Ultimately I went with JK giving it for... smut purposes... ≖‿≖ 

CHAPTER FOUR – THE HALLOWEEN PARTY

The decision for Y/N to be Freddie Krueger came from me planning to be him for Halloween. And I was! JK as Glen Lantz just followed naturally. I’ve seen some great edits of him as the character. Truly chef’s kiss.

I really liked that Jungkook came over to the girl’s dorm to get ready. I didn’t want a scene where Y/N was thrown into a situation she was uncomfortable with which is how much Nerd At A Party Scene go so made sure Jungkook stayed by her side throughout the part, going out of his way to introducing her to the people he cared about.

Tae’s character came in when I realized I needed a way to actually put Y/N’s event in motion. He was the missing link and BOY did you guys eat his character right up huh. Love that for me.

Another thing, the confrontation with Kiri was so hard to write guys, I reeaaaally struggle with girl conflict. GIRLS SHOULD SUPPORT GIRLS. However, not everyone gets along in real life so I went with Kiri being more along the lines of petty rather than outwardly a cunt to Y/N. Realistically, Kiri is popular and well liked among the greek life so being unkind to someone she hardly knows wouldn’t make sense. There’s definitely tension between these two but I tried my best to steer away from the typical cat fight/revenge porn/public humiliation trope most movies seem to follow.

CHAPTER FIVE – THE FIRST TIME

Introduction to Erik!!!! It was really important to me that Y/N had a life before Jungkook. That's why I wrote in Y/N having a fiancé. She’s not opposed to love, she just has reshifted her focus. She knows what she wants and is choosing to focus on that, which why when she realizes she’s falling for Kookie she’s so hesitant to admit it because she’s fallen down that road before. Even though Jungkook treats her with respect and acknowledges the parts of her she’s most proud of, she just isn’t willing to possibly give up her passions for love. Which is why she doesn’t immediately confess to him, even once she’s sure she loves him.

“I’m serious, nerd. You’re like… um… the sun!” Jungkook marveled, eyes growing full as the realization dawned on him.

“The sun?” You laughed.

“Yeah, like… you’re this bright, beautiful thing that seems like it’s here in front of me but is really light-years away.”

Jungkook was drunk, and although you were sure he was making more sense in his head, you couldn’t help but feel your face grow hot, unsure of how to react to his drunk analogy.

“You’re the sun, Y/N. You make the world turn for you. Never orbit for anyone else.”

And suddenly, you were kissing him, for no other reason other than you wanted to and that it felt like the right thing to do.

No real commentary here. Just love this bit. It’s probably my favorite interaction between them two ‧⁺◟( ᵒ̴̶̷̥́ ·̫ ᵒ̴̶̷̣̥̀ ) 

“Also… She’s, uh, currently dating Eunwoo.” You told Yara.

Your best friend blinked, silence falling over her.

“Yara?”

“Good for her.” She perked up almost forcibly. “Let her put up with his annoying ass.”

Yara could see the way your expression had turned dubious as if you didn’t believe her nonchalant act.

Yara turned up her nose defensively, “What?”

Ugh yes, some character development from Yara.... the flavor ! Yara (much like Y/N and JK) also struggles with love. She has a real fear of commitment and if far more comfortable with casual sex than relationships. She did develop actual feelings for Eunwoo, she just wasn’t ready for that kind of commitment so she cut him off. Fleed the scene if you will. Typical gemini smh my head.

"I don’t think the contract mentioned orgasms.” Jungkook smirked as you released his thumb.

“I say we let it slide.” You shrugged, leaning into him casually.

“You think?”

“Totally. Think of it as… a bonding activity.” You joked, resting your chin on his shoulder, peering up through your lashes.

“Damn, we’re really committed to this fake dating thing, huh.”

You laughed in the way that you hated, but Jungkook loved; it was loud and abrupt, but it genuine, and it was you.

“What can I say, I’m a method actor.” You sighed dramatically, causing Jungkook to grin before pressing a kiss to your nose, simply because he liked the way it always seemed to make you smile.

GOD THEY’RE SO WHIPPED FOR EACH OTHER ITS DISGUSTING!!!!!! I’m really happy I decided not to make sleeping together a big deal and I got a lot of feedback from you guys agreeing! I had a lot of fun with these two’s sex scenes knowing they could do it whenever they wanted.

CHAPTER SIX – THE STEM EVENT

I started the scene with smut BUT I wanted to point out that much of their time spent together is at Y/N dorm, Jungkook either napping, hanging out or doing work as Y/N would study like she always did. I liked the idea that Jungkook would get bored and would want attention from Y/N because she was so focused. Idk, I just wanted to write a love story about two people spending time together and figuring out how they fit in each other’s lives as opposed to some dramatic I mEeT HiM aNd mY LiFe bEcAmE cRaZy. There’s nothing wrong with that plot line, I just didn’t want that for these two dorks. I wanted Y/N to interact with JK’s scene and crowd but not give up her own which is why most days JK and her just lounged around in her dorm studying.

Also, I don’t know how the teacher/student roleplay made it into the smut, it just did, no further questions (ʃ⌣́_⌣́ƪ).

Then the event scene.

“You’re whipped, dude! Seriously.”

Jungkook felt his face go red, “Shut up, no, I’m not.”

“Hey, I’m not judging. I get it. That’s your girl.” Taehyung shrugged. Jungkook placed a hand on the fold up table in front of him, staring down at the information pamphlet you had worked so hard on.

“She’s just… so fucking driven and passionate about everything she does. Sometimes I look at her, and I’m just like… holy shit, what am I doing with a girl like her? I feel like she’s totally out of my league and being with me is holding her back but— I dunno, man. I just… really like her.” Jungkook revealed, voice growing small.

An unexpected wave of tenderness fell over the two boys, Taehyung throwing an arm over his little brother’s shoulder.

“I’m happy for you, bro.”

Jungkook didn’t know it just yet but dude was talking from the heart and, is in fact, totally whipped :’c

I loved the confrontation scene between the boys and Eunwoo because the boys standing up for Yara really did make everyone feel like a friend group, not just some character who happen to exist at the same time. It wasn’t just Y/N and Yara and one side and the boys on the other. They would all become friends, which is ideal to me. A boyfriend who likes your best friend and considers her a friend so you can all hang out??? Yes please.

Initially, irl Yara and I had noooo clue if Yara would end up with Eunwoo or not. That was actually the original goal actually. But after this chapter four, you guys made it ABUNDANTLY clear that you guys wanted to see Taeyara, despite the two never even meeting! Honestly, it wasn’t until this chapter was written that we decided for sure that Eunwoo was out of the picture for Yara. Part of me really wanted to keep Yara single, but irl Yara insisted on dick and frankly, she’s right. Bitchin’ Yara deserved a shot at love. She definitely has her own story outside of Bitchin’ and will experience a lot of growth in the future.

“God, I know. I do not miss that temper of his.” She chuckled, her words piquing your interest.

“Temper?”

“Oh, yeah. Have you seriously not experienced it yet? He’s got some gnarly anger issues. Not to mention all the lying…” Kiri paused suddenly, straightening up as she flashed you an apologetic look. “Yikes, I’m sorry. I totally should not be telling you this. I’m not trying to be that gross girl that shit talks her ex to his current girlfriend.”

Miss Kiri, Miss Kiri. She really acted up this chapter didn’t she. There was a lot of discussion about whether or not those things she said about Jungkook were true. Which was exactly what I wanted hehe. We come to find out that Kiri had definitely stretched the truth. She really is good at manipulation and understanding how people think and it’s why she is in the role that she is in. Messy queen.

CHAPTER SEVEN – THE ROOFTOP DATE

This entire chapter was inspired by High School Musical with Troy and Gabriella’s rooftop garden scenes. This was my shortest chapter and honestly, probably not my strongest. I definitely went into writing this with zero concept of what I actually wanted to happen. Usually when I write my chapters I have a 4k long outline of it beforehand that I go off of. Not this one though. I really just winged it and I tried my best to write a chapter that really showed off (dialogue wise) just how this couple bounces off each other. I do really like some of the banter they have in this chapter.

You had taken note a little wooden popsicle stick poking up from the soil of the yellow flowers. Acacias, they were marked. Pulling your knees up to your chest, you considered his words.

Yellow acacias stands the value of true friendship and can indicate a secret love! I thought that was very appropriate given these dummies' relationship.

“So, you probably know why I brought you here.”

You nodded.

“You’re proposing, right?”

“Yeah, I– oh, shut up.” He laughed, the serious mood shattering as you joined him.

Even though I knew they were going to have a semi serious talk, what with Y/N asking about what Kiri had told her, these two dufuses realistically are just too comfortable with each other to stay serious for too long.

“Hey, I said that out of frustration, I didn’t really mean it. I’m sure she’ll come crawling back soon.” You attempted to comfort him, hoping to sound sincere.

“Even if that’s true, I’m not entirely sure I want that anymore.”

“What?” You blinked. Jungkook shrugged.

“What about us?” He met your eyes, causing your breath to hitch.

“What about us?”

Jungkook stared at you for a moment, noting the way the timber in your voice had become higher pitched as if panicked.

MORE FUN FACTS LMFAO: I typically do this thing with unplanned chapters where I just go for it and write and usually it works out. But when I wrote this down I remember stopping and being like ??? WHY DID I JUST WRITE THAT ??? I don’t like deleting my writing so I had a serious think to myself about whether this was going to be the moment Jungkook confessed or not.

Canonly, I decided that Jungkook did in fact mean ‘us’ in a romantic sense, but because of the way you perceivably panicked at that possible meaning, he decided against taking the conversation in that direction, instead speaking about ‘us’ in a platonic sense. Poor kookie :(

“Stop. Listen to me, Jungkook, you’re a fucking great guy, okay? You’re charismatic and funny and care about your friends… sure, you almost ruined my event, but it was mostly to defend my best friend when Eunwoo got too pushy, right? You’re a good guy, meathead. I know I joke about your ego, but I really believe you’re capable of more than you think you are. Seriously, Kiri is so lucky to be the object of your affection.”

Jungkook watched the way the sun’s orange light kissed your face, a bittersweet feeling growing in his chest as he contemplated the object of his affection. Just a couple of months ago, he would have had no doubt about who held his heart, but as you held his stare, he found himself unsure and yet, entirely sure all the same.

“Jungkook? You okay?” You frowned, catching in the sadness in his eyes.

“Hm? Yeah, yeah. I just… realized something.”

“Oh? What’s that?”

“…It doesn’t matter.” He smiled, the gesture hardly reaching his eyes.

It’s in this moment that Jungkook decides that there is no way you hold the same affection towards him that he does to you. He mistakes your words of comfort as you pushing him away. You are so kind and encouraging and Jungkook loves you so much that hearing you insist about him ending back up with Kiri hurts him so bad.

But you are still unsure about your feelings and genuinely believe that's still what Jungkook wants. You’re just being a supportive friend!! :( It isn’t until the end of this chapter when Y/N has her talk with Yara that she realizes, oh man, she’s in deep.

CHAPTER EIGHT – THE MISTAKE

BLAH. This chapter is so BLAH, you know? Having to write this chapter was SO HARD. I texted irl Yara complaining about how much I hated having to put my characters through this and that I wanted to just end the story on chapter 7 and keep them happy forever. BUT ALAS! I had planned for this to happen from the start.

You tasted like the mint of your favorite brand of toothpaste. He imagined if he had caught you any later then the mint would have been accompanied by the taste of coffee, knowing the way you rarely started a day without a cup.

God, he had missed the taste of you.

What you guys didn’t see is Jungkook spending the night with Kiri, and immediately kicking her out, freaking out as the weight of guilt washed over him. He knew he had done nothing wrong, that you weren’t his real girlfriend, and that getting back together with Kiri was exactly what he had signed up for. It was what he should’ve wanted. But it wasn't… because you were what he wanted. And that was exactly what he was going to tell you as he marched over to your apartment.

But he panicked. His mind already decided that your answer to him would be no– that you didn’t feel the same. So he kissed you. He had you in the only way he was allowed to. He was selfish and impulsive and so incredibly scared that he ended up hurting the person he loved the most.

Initially though, I had Jungkook get back together with Kiri, not that he slept with her right before sleeping with Y/N. But I decided TEEHEE let me just make everything erupt into flames. However, I didn’t realize just how angry with Jungkook you guys would get. I remember thinking DAMMIT WAS THAT TOO SCANDALOUS?? I knew I was going to have to work hard for Jungkook to redeem himself to my readers.

“She wants to get back together.” Jungkook swallowed dryly, eyes wavering between yours as if to gauge your reaction.

“…Oh.”

You shook your head.

“I mean, wow! That’s… That’s great!” You smiled, something tearing apart inside you as the words left your lips.

“Y/N–”

“Seriously! This means it worked, right? This is exactly what you wanted to happen.” You enthused, turning your head so that he couldn’t see the way your eyes had welled up.

Jungkook’s heart was pounding in his ears, fighting the urge to wrap his arms around you.

“Yeah… yeah, no, you’re right. We did it.” He replied monotonously.

GOD THIS PART IS SO UNBELIEVABLY FRUSTRATING! JUST ADMIT YOU LOVE EACH OTHER YOU MORONS! This entire situation is so convoluted because there's so much information missing and not being expressed, I seriously want to ring my own neck rereading this bit.

“Are you mad?” He called out cautiously, a heavy feeling falling onto his chest.

“Why would I be mad?” You quipped back sharply, causing Jungkook to flinch. He shifted in his seat uncomfortably.

“I just thought… I mean we’ve been fooling around a lot lately, so I didn’t know if—”

“If what? I had feelings for you?” You scoffed. “Please, as if I’d ever fall for you.”

And there it was— everything Jungkook already knew but had been so afraid to hear. Of course, you didn’t feel for him what he felt for you. How could he have expected anything different?

IDIOTS!!! THEY'RE BOTH IDIOTS!!! I don't know how y'all put up with this for so long. Forgive me.

CHAPTER NINE – THE BREAK

Okay I actually love this chapter. And for many reasons. Let me break down the three scenes for you guys.

Scene one: Kiri confrontation

Kiri is definitely an opposing antagonist. She is constantly working against Y/N because of their interests directly conflicting. BUT. I would argue that the biggest antagonist to this story is the inner ones – Y/N and Jungkook's lack of ability to admit their feelings constantly holding them both back from their happy ending. That being said, a confrontation scene between Y/N and Kiri was MUCH needed. While I suppose I can understand why Kiri doesn't like Y/N, that doesn't change the fact that she has been disrespectful and catty. So miss Y/N had to put Miss Kiri in her place (•̀ᴗ•́)

Scene two: Yara and Tae at the library

Fanservice. That is all. LMFAOOO y'all reallllyyy wanted it to happen and who am I to deny my people what they want. It was really fun getting to explore my side characters and develop them through interactions outside the two main characters. IRL Yara also mentioned giving bitchin’ Yara and Tae their own chapter as a joke and I was like LOL BET. I fully was going to but then I got the idea for the next scene and was like ahh ok maybe not the whole chapter.

Scene three: Meeting with Erik

So. This was a SUPER last minute decision. Like, it wasn’t until I was writing this chapter that I planned on Erik making an appearance. I saw a tweet with someone saying their bitchin theories and they mentioned Erik appearing out of nowhere and I was like,,, HOLD ON!!!! That could be kind of spicy ≖‿≖ 

I knew for a fact JK was NOT going to be forgiven in this chapter; I needed a way to lay the situation out between the two dorks without trying to seem like I was trying to sway my audience in a way that didn't make sense to the story. Y/N was rightfully angry. But she wasn't only angry about the timing of the sex. She was angry that Jungkook went back to Kiri at all and there was no way she was going to admit that. So who better to lay it all out than calculated, unbiased third party Erik. He deserved some character development after all.

I also liked the idea that Y/N had, in theory, “romantic options.” Losing Jungkook didn’t mean the end of her life. Having my female lead stand on her own was very important to me.

CHAPTER TEN – THE END

RIGHT OF THE BAT I needed Jungkook to suffer. So that whole scene where he tries to interact with his old group only for his presence to make everything awkward MMMM yes, sweet revenge on my part.

You were surprised. His hair was no longer shaggy and long like you remembered it. Instead, it had been freshly cut, looking healthy and neatly styled for the first time since you met Jungkook.

THE WAY SO MANY PEOPLE COMMENTED ON THIS LINE “but Y/N liked it long?!?”  IS SO FUNNNYyyyy. So let me clarify a thing. Jungkook had always wanted to cut his hair right. The only reason he didn’t was because Y/N told him not to. With Y/N no longer in the picture to convince him out of it, he cut his hair. That’s really all there is to it skfjsjf.

You know, I had written this part around the time I had just finished up the third ch believe it or not. And it was COMPLETELY different. I had it planned that Yara and Y/N ignored him throughout class and Yara had gone back after the bell rang to go verbally assault JK. And as the two hashed it out, only then was that when Jungkook would realize that he liked Y/N after Yara literally spelled it out for him.

“You like her, dumbass!” Was what I had written Yara saying. I really had written him in denial for ten chapters, I was a whole sociopath (╥﹏╥). But ultimately, I decided that Jungkook came to that conclusion on his own and the decision to apologize to Y/N would have been made over winter break.

“You said Kiri came over asking for you back, yet you still came over and slept with me the next day. Even though the two of you had sex the night before. Do you understand how that makes me feel?”

“I’m—”

“Like garbage!" You emphasized, the white paint of the door somehow irritating you further. "I felt like I was something you threw away and picked back up whenever you felt like getting your dick wet.”

Your chest was rising and falling rapidly, and you tried your hardest to not let your emotions get the best of you.

“Not to mention to everyone else, it looks like you cheated on me. Which makes me look like a fucking idiot." You scoffed.

Jungkook said nothing in reply, which somehow made it easier to say all you should have said that day in your room.

“It just sucks to realize that someone you once cared about sees you as nothing more than a toy. It fucking sucks.”

Man :( writing this hurt my heart. I really, really, love bitchin!y/n and writing her hurting freaking stinks. But she had to speak her mind. She deserves the chance to get everything off her chest with the way Jungkook hurt her.

Your heart and mind were in constant paradox, torn between wanting him back and wanting him to know just how much he had hurt you. Your mind ultimately won the battle, of course, but as Jungkook stood just a few inches of drywood apart pouring his heart out, it was hard to say which major organ was responsible for your next words.

The creak of the door being pushed open sent Jungkook's eyes wide, revealing your hesitant form. You had your arms crossed over your chest as if to guard the contents inside of it.

You looked like an angel underneath the bathroom's blue fluorescent lights, beautiful and lovely, a stark contrast from your next crushing sentence.

“I slept with Erik.”

Hehe. Ofc my girl Y/N had to have a rebound!!! She knows that life goes on. However, as I wrote in, she definitely regretted it. It was kind of the same situation that Jungkook was in where he pursued something just because it was familiar and a distraction and not because he really wanted it. Both Y/N and Jungkook are flawed characters but that’s okay! If anything, Y/N’s mistake of sleeping with Erik is what allows her to forgive Jungkook. Knowing first hand how complicated their entire relationship really was.

“I don’t need you… but I don’t think I want a life without you.” You finished shyly.

Your eyes were locked with his when suddenly a small noise escaped him, eyes pulling away from yours as his head moved to attempt to hide the way his eyes had grown wet.

I got this line from one of my best friends after her ex broke up with her. It made me physically sad and really sympathize with her so I quickly wrote it down into my notes app to save for later LMAOOOO. Knowing that you are your own person and life will inevitably go on after losing someone, but that your heart still wants and is pleading for the one person you can’t have. SO SAD. I’m happy I got to use this line in one of my fics.

The note Jungkook wrote Y/N,,, imagine him not being able to sleep one night over winter break so he just writes down everything he should have told Y/N while he still had the chance…. I’ll for real cry dude, he’s so cute. Also, the line about him buying you fluffy Halloween socks for Christmas went over people’s heads I think but HECK I THOUGHT THAT WAS SO FUNNY AND SWEET (because Y/N bought Christmas socks when it was Halloween teehee).

"Are you two dorks done crying?" Yara’s voice rang out suddenly, causing both of you to jump apart.

"Yara, you creep! Privacy, dude! Ever try knocking?" You sniffed, wiping at your face hurriedly.

"What? Like you were peeing with Jungkook in the bathroom? Please." She waved you off, walking back into the living room to give you two some privacy. She did say Jungkook had 15 minutes before she’d have to come back in after all. "Anyway, Tae will be over in 10 minutes for the Saved By The Bell marathon that’s on so you guys are more than welcomed to join." She called out from her newly seated position on the couch.

I included this scene with Yara because things were getting too serious for my liking ngl. Plus the idea that the four of them would all come together at the end for a much needed reunion made my happy bitchin heart soar.

Jungkook let out a laugh, his palm finding your cheek, eyes locked on your lips. You were preening for his kiss, mouth parting slightly as you anticipated it.

“Partners?”

The question took you by surprise, eyes widening at your not so pretend lover.

Idiot.

“Partners.” You smiled softly, eyes shiny and brimming with tears as he kissed you for what must have been the millionth time, but still somehow felt like the first.

UGH I LOVE THEM I REALLY DO. I was so happy with how this final scene came out :( They’re partners, they really are I miss these boneheads.

AND NOW, I PRESENT THE CANON FUTURE OF THE BITCHIN UNIVERSE...

10 YEARS LATER

Let’s be honest, Jungkook popped the question the day of graduation, he can’t imagine a life in which you wouldn’t be beside him

You said yes (shocker)

Cue Jungkook being the most wonderful partner and respecting your wish to finish your residency program before having the wedding

You absolutely kick ass at being a neonatal surgeon

Also, Jungkook started a film company! It’s small but he loves what he does and works with colleges and helps out the film majors with resources and equipment <3

SO IT'S THE DAY OF YOUR WEDDING RIGHT

Yara and your sisters are helping you get ready, with your best friend as the ever so reassuring maid of honor

And by that I mean you’re as calm as a cucumber and Yara is one wrong move away from having a stroke

“Y/N… Don’t freak out....The catering company put in two orders of shrimp instead of chicken and steak.”

“Yara, it’s okay.”

“NO ITS NOT???? THIS IS YOUR WEDDING DAY AND YOU’RE GETTING CRUSTACEANS.”

Y/N making Yara take a seat and practice some breathing exercises so she doesn’t upset the baby

Oh yeah, Yara is 10 weeks pregnant

Taehyung is the dad lol

Yara and Taehyung have been together ever since that day at the library hehe <3

They moved in together and adopted a cat and everything (sweet boy Tae wanted a dog but Yara’s afraid of dogs and Tae would do anything for that woman so Yeontan the cat it is)

Yara refuses to put a label on their relationship even after all this time, and Tae doesn’t ask for one. They’re happy and dedicated to each other and don’t feel the need to put pressure on something that’s already so perfect

Yara is actually violently in love with Tae but still scoffs when Y/N tries to bring it up

“Oh my god, you’re so in love with him”

“Huh??? you must be sick or something. Get well soon, damn :/”

Yara likes to come up with different labels for Taehyung every time she has to introduce him. Among her favorites are roommate, rent sharer, baby daddy and penis lender

Speaking of Taehyung, he’d have a hand on Jungkook’s shoulder as he tries to calm down the panicking groom to be

“JK, breathe.”

“What if she doesn’t show up? What if she doesn’t want to marry me? What if I pressured her into this and— and I’ve freaked her out and now she hates me?”

“Dude, you guys have been engaged for eight years. She’s had her opportunity to run. She’ll show up.”

Taehyung scruffing up the younger man’s hair reassuringly, which only flusters him more because DAMMIT he wants to look perfect for you and now his hair is messed up >:(

(You like him no matter what his hair looks like though)

Jungkook literally swallowing down a sob as you walk down the aisle and he lays his eyes on you for the first time

You having a dumb smile on your face the entire walk over because your husband to be is crying and you haven’t even exchanged vows yet

The entire audience going all sobby when you finally do exchange vows because they’re so beautiful and real

The ten years together has not been easy— from financial struggles as you tried to support yourself through med school, to personal conflicts when Jungkook wanted to start a family already

But you guys figured it out

You always do

He’s your person. And you are his.

Y/N’s sisters Rosa and Lia are a WRECK— even your dad is tearing up

Your family loves Jungkook and have been counting down the days until you guys married, let’s be honest

“You may now kiss the bride.”

Jungkook punching the air with a “FINALLY!” before kissing the hell out of you

The cutting of the cake inevitably turning into a food fight

The shrimp entrees turning out to be pretty damn good

Yara catching the bouquet and wagging her brows at Taehyung suggestively

Jungkook pulling you aside to take photos of you outside the venue because you look so so pretty and he loves the way you smile when he’s the one behind the camera

The party is in full session, your siblings tearing up the dance floor like the extroverts they are

You and Jungkook are sat at the head of the room, hands intertwined underneath the table as you watch a tired and painfully sober Yara swing her bare feet onto Taehyung’s lap, requesting a foot rub

Watching your pregnant best friend and her lover together, you turned towards your own, smile impossibly wide

“What?”

“Let’s have a baby.” You’d grin, so stupid happy

Jungkook’s eyes going round and immediately jumping up from his seat because god that’s all he’s ever wanted

Being tugged out the room by a giddy Jungkook, one of your heels flinging off somewhere behind you.

“What’s happening? Where are we going?!”

The two of you find yourself in a storage room somewhere on the hotel floor

“Jeon Jungkook, what the hell—“

His mouth find yourself, kissing you in a way that couldn’t at the altar

You kissed him back without questions, arms wrapping around the man you now called your husband

“I love you.” He’d sigh into your neck, his hot breath causing you to shiver

“I love you too.”

“Let’s make a baby.”

“Yeah let’s— wait, right here? Right now?!”

Jungkook merely nodding as his mouth found the exposed skin of your chest

“Meathead, we can’t just ditch our wedding to have sex!”

“Why not? We did our marital duties. Now it’s our guests' job to get embarrassingly drunk and make a fool of themselves on the dance floor. No one will even miss us.”

“Isn’t baby making what our honeymoon is for?”

“Screw that. I’ve done my waiting. Let’s start our family, nerd.”

Jungkook kissing your protests silent before you inevitably give in and let him take you right there and then, your wedding dress hung around your hips

Husband and wife coming together with shaky breaths and hushed moans as they promise the rest of their lives to each other, making every argument, struggle or moment of uncertainty leading up to now totally worth it

Walk of shame back into the party with nervous hair fixing from you and a proud grin from Jungkook

Yara figuring out exactly why you two had sneaked off to, flashing the newly weds a knowing smirk

The night of your wedding, Jungkook surprises you with a present

You unwrap it in confusion, only to see that it’s a glass frame and inside of it is the wrinkled and worn out lined paper the two of you had scribbled on many many years ago

Jungkook hangs up the contract right above your bed as per your request, smiling as he does and jumping on him the moment he puts down the hammer bc dammit it you’re too heckin excited to make love with your sentimental loser of a husband

And yes, by the next month, you are pregnant and incredibly happy

And of course, your daughter and Yara’s son grow up to be best friends, not a family holiday passing by where they aren’t told the story of the totally bitchin’ way both set of their parents got together

[janicho88]

Falling For You -Part 3

November

Pairing- Eventual Dean x Female!Reader,  

Word Count-3546

Warning- Fluff. Mention of serial killers. Still burning slow. 

A/N- I had an idea for a one shot, and giving a little backstory to Dean and the Reader meeting took on a life of its own. We should hit the one shot part around chapter 20, oops?  This story is AU, and un beta’d.  Thank you @waywardbeanie​ and @whatareyousearchingfordean​ for helping me keep these 2 characters in line and letting me bounce ideas off of you. 

 Summary- After being burned before you had sworn off finding love for now. Coming home from work one night there is a strange man pounding on your door.  Neither of you knew what this meeting would lead to.

Series Masterlist

Do you ever notice how quickly time goes once October hits?  In a blink November is over and suddenly Christmas is here and then we are ringing in the new year.   You aren’t even sure you remember much of the first two weeks of November this year. You did remember you had been out helping Dean a number of nights.  Work was finally back under control , but you needed to get a list around to start on your Holiday baking for the first weekend of December, Thanksgiving was next week. It seemed like you couldn’t figure out which direction to go in. 

Dean had gone to see a few houses and asked you to go with him for another opinion.  Both of you fell in love with the sixth house.  It was a two story single family home, you would have killed for the kitchen.  So much counter space for baking or cooking.  It only needed a few touch ups here or there, maybe some new paint in some of the rooms eventually, but it was move-in ready.  The previous owners already moved out of town and took all their belongings with them.  Dean had been working with a bank to be approved for a loan before finding the house, plus he had saved what he had when his house sold.  The closing was done by Friday the end of the second week.

While Dean was busy finalizing paperwork on his house, you were at your desk on your lunch hour looking through pinterest for new cookie or bar ideas. A familiar voice sounded behind you.  

“I’m back bitches!”  Turning around you saw the fiery redhead who was in charge of IT for the company.  Charlie used to work out of this office, but they had moved her to the new clinic that had opened an hour away for the last two months.  

“Things are running smoothly over there, two weeks without any problems, I get to come back to you guys now.”  She walked over to her familiar work area and tapped the Hermione figure sitting by her monitor and asked if she missed her.  “So what have I missed here?”  You and Monica filled her in, and introduced her to Anna when she came back.  The rest of the day passing fairly quickly. 

Making a quick dinner that night you received a phone call from your mom.  Her older sister had fallen and hurt her hip.  She wasn’t going to be able to travel down for Thanksgiving, so your parents were going up there.  This way your mom could help her around the house and with the meal.  Your cousins were a bit lazy, they weren’t going to do it.  She asked if you wanted to go with them, and after thinking about it for a moment, told her not to worry about you.  Your aunt's house wasn’t very big, and some other family was going up also.  That was going to be too much close family togetherness for you.

 Wiping down your counter you heard a tap at the door, slipping on shoes and grabbing your purse you headed out.  Jess and Dean were out in the hall waiting for you, the two of you offered to help Dean clean tonight before things were moved in tomorrow.  Sam was working a big case and stuck at work this evening.  The house was in good shape, it just needed a good pre move in clean.

“So Dean,” Jess started talking when you got in the car.  “Since you are going to have the most room, how about you host Thanksgiving next week?”

“What?”  He was a bit caught off guard by that.

“Your parents are coming up, so are mine, that’s seven of us in our apartment trying to cook a big dinner, you have a huge new kitchen and a dining room.”

“One, do you really trust me to make Thanksgiving dinner?”

“I didn’t say you had to make it all, we’ll help, you just have the space to have it at.”

Sitting at a red light Dean closed his eyes and let out a sigh, “If we can have the house usable by Tuesday, fine.”

“Good, Sam also told your parents they were staying at your house.”  Rolling his eyes Dean knew it was pointless to respond.  Jess turned in her seat to see you in the back, “What are you doing for Thanksgiving, Y/N?”

“Usually we go to my grandparents, but my mom called tonight and my aunt got hurt so they are all going up to her house.  I’m just going to hang out at home, watch the parade, and be lazy.”

“Apparently I’m hosting Thanksgiving, come join us.”  Dean offered, glancing at you in the back.

“I appreciate the offer, but I don’t want to intrude.”

“You won’t be, Sam already did that when he has people staying at my house that I’m not even living in yet, without telling me.”

“Okay, if you are sure, thanks.  Just let me know what I can bring.”

“Pie, lots of pie,”

Dean had already taken cleaning supplies over to the house and the three of you decided to divide and conquer.  You took the kitchen and dining room, Jess and Dean split up the two upstairs bathrooms and the master bedroom and one of the guest rooms. Whoever finishes first would start in the living room.  These rooms would be used for his parents' visit and Thanksgiving, the other rooms would be tackled if there was time.  Walls, windows, doors all scrubbed down, floors vacuumed and mopped, kitchen cupboards all wiped out.  It took you guys a few hours and everyone was beat when you headed back to the apartment building.  Sam and Dean were renting a uhaul in the morning to get Dean’s stuff from storage, you made plans to ride over with Jess to help unpack. 

Back in your apartment you looked to see what you could whip up to take with you for breakfast.  Normal cinnamon rolls would take too long, and you didn’t have the energy, but cinnamon biscuits were doable.  You made a double batch, and prepped the icing.  Figuring you would warm them in the morning and top them then.  

Dressed in a comfy old t-shirt and worn jeans sweatshirt sitting with the biscuits,  you were ready when Jess came to get you.  “Oh my, what is that smell?”

“I figured we would be working up an appetite today, so I brought breakfast rolls. Do you want one for the road?”

“Uh, yes please.”  Both of you laughing, she grabbed one out of the container while waiting for the elevator.

“Yep, Dean’s right.  Girl you can bake.”

The guys pulled up with the uhaul just as you were getting out of the car.  “Ready to start,” she asked.

“Not really, you?”

“I wish I was back in bed.”

“What are you two laughing at?” Sam inquired leaning down to give Jess a quick kiss.

“Just wishful dreams,” she told him.

Dean unlocked the house while Sam opened the truck.  They let you and Jess take some boxes, while they moved some of the furniture that came on this load.  Thankfully Dean had somewhat labeled the boxes as he packed so you knew where to drop what.  His labels gave you an idea on what was important to the man: kitchen crap, bathroom junk, living room stuff, bed things, other room bed things, you just didn’t know what was in each of those boxes, but clearly knew what was in the VINYLS, TOOLS, and MOVIES boxes.

Dean had kept most of the furniture from his old place, but did have a few new things coming.  Such as a master bedroom set, and new couch and dining room table. Those were going to be delivered Tuesday.  Jess told you he didn’t want things that reminded him of Lisa, so he sold anything that did when he moved.  

Cas came over to help in the early afternoon, bring some pizzas as an apology for missing the morning work.  The biscuits you made long gone.  Things were coming along nicely, Dean wasn’t super picky on where things went right now.  Dean gave you the job on organizing the kitchen, he said you would know best.  His only request being the coffee items were close to each other and easy to get too.  He would figure out where you put anything else later.  Placing his old coffee maker next to the plug between the sink and refrigerator, the glasses and mugs in the cabinet next to the sink and and coffee and filters above the machine. 

Jess was helping Sam set up the guest bedroom and washing the sheets for that room and Dean’s once his bed arrives.  Cas and Dean ran the wires for his tv and speakers for his record player.  Dean deemed those two things most important.  Everything was out of storage and into the house Saturday evening, put away was another story.  You offered to help on Sunday, but Dean said he wasn’t going to work on it then, taking one day of the weekend not to work and unwind a little.  He still had a few things at Sam and Jess’ place to get packed up at some point.

Thanksgiving week was always a nice work week since you were only open 3 days.  Monday and Tuesday evening you had helped at Dean’s and it was ready for Thanksgiving, his parents were arriving sometime Wednesday. 

When you left his place Tuesday night you headed home alone.  Dean was all moved in, he was out of the apartment across the hall.  It made you kinda sad to think about.  It’s going to be weird not running into him in the hall, or have him randomly come over when he was giving his brother some space.  

You opted for staying home Wednesday night instead of hitting the bar with Charlie and her friends, and decided to get the pies made.  You went with two traditional pumpkin, and one apple since Dean liked the last one so much.  When you were at the store you also picked up the ingredients to make a strawberry pretzel jello.   

Thursday morning you watched the parade in comfy pj’s on your couch with a glass of hot chocolate.  Unlike Dean coffee wasn’t your thing.  But with the chilly weather you liked something hot in the mornings. When it was warmer you would enjoy your weekend morning drinks on your balcony.

Dinner was supposed to be at two, but you headed over before noon to help with the preparations.  You put on leggings and a long sweater, Jess had told you it was more about comfort than fashion today. 

It was your turn to knock on Dean’s door for once, a pretty blonde woman answering the door.  She had a big smile on her face that turned to surprise when she saw you.

“Hello, can I help you?”

“Hi, I’m Y/N.  Dean and Jess invited me, I came over early to help with dinner.”

“Hey Y/N!”  Dean came up behind her with a big smile on his face.  “Come on in.”

“Hi Dean, I came to help, brought pies, pumpkin, apple, and a jello”  

“You don’t have to help,” he said while ushering you inside, “you did that enough with moving this week.  Y/N this is my mom Mary, mom this is Y/N.  She actually lives in the apartment across from Sam.”

“Nice to meet you dear.  I’m sorry, I was expecting Sam at the door, I didn’t know anyone else was coming.”

Getting to the kitchen Dean opened up the pies and you saw him hide one of them in the cupboard.  Shaking your head, you look around at the food out on the counters.  

“What kind of jello is this?”  Dean asked looking at the cake pan you set down.

“It’s a pretzel strawberry jello or some people call it a salad.  I didn’t think you would be too fond of that term though.”

Dean looked at you before looking back down, “Pretzel jello?  I see the jello and strawberries, and something solid under that but it doesn’t look like pretzels.  Where’s the salad part? What are you trying to feed me sweetheart?”

Rolling your eyes and shaking your head “There isn’t actual lettuce in it Dean, this time salad is referring to a side.  The solid layer is cream cheese cool whip mix, the Pretzel is the baked crust.  It’s a combination of salty and sweet.  Just try a bite, I’m not trying to sneak anything past you.  I promise it won't hurt you as much as Sam's veggie bacon.” 

Dean's face grew serious, “I thought we agreed that we don't speak of that fraud, it's not bacon. I need actual meat.”

Laughing you pat his back, “I know, I'm sorry. Now you have your own kitchen to cook real bacon.”

“Yeah or I could come to yours and let you do the work.”  He said with a smile your way

“You are always welcome at my place.”

“Now that we are done discussing the jello, what do you need me to do?”

“Y/N, seriously you don’t have to help.”

“I want to, I like cooking almost as much as baking.”

Dean moved over to the list of food Jess had made up the other day, “Turkey is stuffed and in the oven, potatoes are boiling,  the corncake hasn’t been started yet, neither has the salad, rolls are just waiting to bake.”

“Well Sam wanted the salad so he can do that, I’ll get the corncake going and in the oven.”

Sam, Jess, and her parents arrived a short time later.  The guys all ended up in the living room watching football and left you four ladies in the kitchen.  Mary started to ask Dean where his mixer was, but he told her to talk to you since you organized the kitchen.  While working on last minute touches Mary turned and looked at you.

“How long have you and Dean been dating?”

Jess started laughing while you stuttered out an answer, “Oh, uh no we, we aren’t, we’re just friends.”

“They are both in denial about having any feelings for each other.”

“Jess!  There are no feelings to be in denial about, we’re just friends, that’s it.”

“I’ll let you know when they catch up with what the rest of us know, Mary.” You turned back to setting the table shaking your head at her.

Dinner was great, and the conversation was even better.  Dean’s dad was a little intimidating at first, but grew on you as the meal progressed.  Dean sat next to you and before he took a bite of his jello he picked up the bowl and looked it over and made you promise him he wouldn’t regret it.  He took his time chewing, bobbing his head around while you awaited the final verdict.

“It’s actually pretty good.” You just gave him a little nod, holding back your laugh at his behavior before going back to your own food.  

The guys migrated back to the television after a while, and the four of you cleaned up.  Dean came in a few times, but you sent him back out.  When the first game ended the men came back for dessert.   Jess brought out pumpkin bread and apple crisp her and her mom made and Dean carried the pies over.

“Y/N made pumpkin pie,”  Dean told the others.

Leaning over to whisper in his ear, “You keeping the apple for yourself?”

Giving you a little grin he nodded,  “You know it sweetheart.”  Laughing you didn’t notice Mary watching your exchange across the table. 

 Looking through the ads with Jess you made plans to go out with her and her mom the next morning.  Mary was watching the two of you, and you asked if she wanted to join. Jess quickly looked up and told Mary how much fun it would be if the four of you went together.

Sam tried to talk everyone into playing a new game he picked up. When he finally got everyone, even Dean to agree to join he went out to the car to retrieve it.  Coming back in empty handed swearing he put it in the car, but unable to find it.  He went looking through some of Dean’s things for the deck of cards he swore he didn’t have striking out again.  Dean told him if he wanted to play games he needed to host Thanksgiving and went back to watching the football game.  Jess was sitting beside you unusually quiet the whole time.

“Did you know he forgot the game?” You whispered to her.

“He didn’t forget it, who do you think took it out of the car?”  Quickly covering your laugh with a cough she continued. “It was a trivia game about serial killers that used a courtroom type setup.  The box said something about cross examining, objecting and redirecting.  It seriously wasn’t happening, I get enough lawyer talk at home.”   

At five am the next morning you decided Jess had too much energy.  She had you leaving the apartment building by 3:30, then picked up Mary before hitting the mall.  You drove the 40 minutes to Ann Arbor because Jess wanted to go to the bigger mall.  Luckily the temperature was in the high 30’s this morning and you didn’t have to wait outside long.  There are years you have stood outside in the snow waiting to get in a store.

You had a few things on your list, but no clue for some people.  You weren't great at coming up with gifts, especially at this hour. You walked past one store front before stopping abruptly, and Jess walked into your back.

“Sorry, I wasn't thinking.  I’m going to run in here real quick, I’ll catch up with you guys in a minute.”  The display in the window made you think of Dean and you went into get him a house warming present.

Stopping in the food court for a break later, Mary had a question for you, “Call me crazy, but didn’t you say something about apple pie yesterday when you arrived?”

You started laughing, “ I did, Dean apparently hid it when he took it to the kitchen.  He had some last time I made one and decided he didn’t want to share this one.”

Mary was talking to you more about Dean.  “He seems so much happier now than when he left.  He was in a dark place for a while, that girl hurt him bad.  I ran into her in town, and she had the nerve to talk to me like everything was fine.  I gave her a piece of my mind and John had to pull me away.”  She paused for a minute before continuing, “Dean has mentioned hanging out with a new friend a number of times I’ve talked to him.  I think that person has made a big difference in his happiness, and I hope they stick around for a long time.” 

You weren’t really sure what to say, you gave her a little smile, and told her Dean was an amazing guy who didn’t deserve to be treated like he had been. 

After running errands on Saturday you stopped over at Dean’s.  He was surprised to see you at the door and invited you into the living room where he was talking with his parents.

“Oh, I’m sorry to interrupt, I just wanted to drop something off.”

“You’re fine sweetie, you aren’t interrupting anything.  We were just chit chatting, but we should actually start to get some of our things around.  We fly out tomorrow morning.  John, we should go pick up the room, and pack what we don’t need tonight.”

“I did that earlier.’

“Well you should double check it, just in case.  You two talk, we’ll be back later.”  Pushing John out of the room they headed upstairs.

“I didn’t mean to chase them away, I just wanted to drop off your house warming gift.”

“Thank you, you really didn’t have to get me anything.  Your help was a huge present,”  Dean told you, taking the wrapped box out of your hands.

“I wanted to, just open it.”

“Oh Sweetheart, she is a beauty.”  You had gotten him a new Keurig coffee maker, this one could make a whole pot, or a single pod.  He mentioned he had been fighting with his old one, and you knew how important coffee was to him, especially in the morning.  

“This way, you can make yourself a single cup if you just can’t wait for the whole pot to finish, or if you want one later.”

“This is great, thanks Y/N.  You did well, especially for a non-coffee drinker,”  he finished with a teasing grin. 

“I should get going, let you enjoy your last night with your parents.”

“You don’t have to, Sam and Jess should be over soon, her parents left today.”

“Thanks, but I don’t want to interfere with family time.  Tell your parents it was nice meeting them, I hope they have a safe trip back.  I’ll see you around Dean.”

Part 4 

Thank you for reading!

Tags  @talesmaniac89 @katehuntington @winchest09 @flamencodiva @whatareyousearchingfordean @waywardbeanie @deanwanddamons @smol-and-grumpy @emoryhemsworth @anathewierdo @malfoysqueen14 @superfanficnatural @jensengirl83 @atc74 @sandlee44 @akshi8278  @fantasydevil2002

Falling For You tags- @halesandy @abuavnee​ @hearteyes-j2 @vicmc624 @440mxs-wife @wonder-cole  @maralisa124

[purplesurveys]

1177

survey by joybucket

Have you _____ during this pandemic?

Worn a mask? I mean, of course. I put one on even when I’m only picking up deliveries from my doorstep.

got tested for coronavirus? Never. I also hope I’ll never have to go through this, I don’t want a stick up my nose and throat D:

known someone who died from the virus? Personally? Too many people at this point. 

gotten the COVID vaccine? Not yet, but I have many relatives who’ve already gotten theirs, my mom and grandmother included, so at least. I know my employer has a plan in place over the next few weeks or months, so I’m just currently waiting for updates on their end.

started a new hobby? Yeah, I started on embroidery late last year. I haven’t been able to keep it up, but I’m still very much interested and want to go back to it soon. I also plan on getting one or two new Klaypel kits so I can finally replace and throw out the ones Gabie gave to me as gifts.

hated being stuck at home? Yeah, especially during the start when there seemed to be no end in sight. When they heightened quarantine protocols again earlier this month, that also made me feel aggravated about being stuck at home indefinitely since I had already started going out on weekends for self-dates.

worn a mask someone made for you? No one has made a mask for me, but one of my uncles got me a supply of a certain kind of face mask that I didn’t initially use.

sewn your own mask? No.

purchased masks at the store? Not me personally, but my dad regularly buys a supply for the family to use.

purchased a KN95 or N95 mask? Again, not me. But we regularly have a stock at home, along with the blue surgical face masks.

complimented someone on their mask? I don’t think so. I barely pay attention especially towards mask designs.

protested mask-wearing? ????? My name’s not Karen.

complained on Facebook? Nothing mask-related, but I have definitely complained about the government’s negligence and lack of proactivity about this entire situation.

read a book? I started on Midnight Sun which my parents got for me, but I never finished it. I got busy immediately the week after since I got accepted into my internship, and it was also because I was dealing with my breakup and could not focus enough to read for more than 5 minutes.

had an event canceled you had been looking forward to? My college graduation, which I’ll forever stay bitter about.

stocked up on toilet paper? I don’t think so. My parents didn’t believe in panic-buying.

been to the store when it was crowded? I do remember the mall being packed when I went last-minute Christmas shopping. Not to a crazy extent, but there was still quite a number of people.

been to the store when the toilet paper aisle was empty? N/A. We don’t have toilet paper aisles, but all stores have hand sanitizers and temperature checks by their entrance.

lost your job? I didn’t have a job before the pandemic because I had still been a student when everything started.

worked from home? Yup, and still on an WFH arrangement until now.

still had to go to work? I’ve had to go two times, but that was because it was absolutely necessary to go to the office to get the work done. My employer is pretty strict about this anyway and if something could be done at home, they’d decline the request.

went to a protest at your state's capital building? Well we don’t have states so this isn’t really relevant to me. Should a credible org plan a protest against the government though, I’d be interested in going.

watched the news for updates on the virus? We keep the TV on during dinner, at which time the news is always on. Whether I want to or not, I always get updates on the Covid situation in the country.

wondered if you had covid? Yeah, when I got extremely sick in May last year.

not left the house for a week? Way more than a week.

watched YouTube videos? YouTube is pretty much a part of my daily routine, with or without the virus.

spent a whole day watching movies? I’ve only watched one movie since the beginning of the pandemic.

cleaned your house from top to bottom? Not me, but my mom.

ordered something online? Too much crap.

ordered a pizza? I’ve gotten pizza a few times for my family, yeah. I remember ordering from Pizza Hut, Motorino, and most recently, Yellow Cab.

prayed to God?

completely forgotten a holiday that you normally celebrate? Nah, I usually remember when holidays are because that means I get a day off hahaha.

voted in an election? There haven’t been any elections that have taken place since the start of the pandemic.

gotten to know your neighbors? Somewhat. I only say hi to them and greet them a good morning/afternoon when I walk the dogs, but I don’t initiate conversations.

sanitized everything in your home? We always do this, especially when a package arrives for someone in the family.

wrote someone a letter? Started one but never finished because I soon realized it wouldn’t be worth it.

wished this pandemic were over? Don’t we all?

been surprised this pandemic has lasted so long? Yeah, I definitely thought things would be normal by now.

worried about catching the virus? I think the worry exists for everyone. I just wouldn’t say I’ve ever gotten super anxious and panicky about it. I feel pretty resigned at this point and just want everything to be over, so I can finally have the life I was meant to have back.

stayed home because you didn't want to catch the virus? That, and because I was required to stay home to begin with.

been to church? We watch a service on YouTube every Sunday morning.

watched an online church service? ^ Yeah, that’s what I meant haha oops.

been stopped by a police officer? No, but there was one time I was cleaning up Cooper’s tray and there happened to be a village guard cycling by our street, and he just kindly reminded me to put on a mask or shield since I had forgotten to do it.

seen a lot of police cars patrolling the area? No. I would definitely be pissed off if this happened - especially in a residential subdivision - and share a pic on social media to alert everyone about the unnecessary mess that is the police.

had someone cough on you out in public? No. But again, this would also piss me off and I wouldn’t hesitate to confront the asshole who would do something like that.

has someone stand less than six feet away from you while waiting in line? Always. Some people here can still be unbelievably stubborn.

had to use an inhaler? Never needed one.

been to the doctor? Yeah, to have my blood and urine tests examined.

had increased asthma and/or allergy symptoms? I have neither.

felt like you were fighting a virus? Like I said, I got a bad fever sometime last year. Even though I didn’t show any of the common Covid symptoms (e.g. I had wet cough instead of a dry cough), I felt as if I was rotting away lmao. I could barely stand up and I felt like fainting the second I would raise my head.

been diagnosed with the coronavirus? No.

felt lonely? It’s natural.

went somewhere with a friend? Just a couple of times. I went to UPTC with Andi at the start of the year, then back in Feb I went to Perfy’s with several friends, well aware of our ignorance but badly craving for a sense of normalcy for even just a night.

attended an online event? BANG BANG COOOOOOOOOON. Best 8 hours of my life during the pandemic thus far.

had a business in your area close down? Like the people I know who’ve died from the virus, too many.

received a stimulus check? Hasn’t happened.

received food stamps? No, and I don’t think we have that system in place here. The government just lets the hungry go hungrier.

applied for disability? No, not applicable.

applied for food assistance? No, thankfully we haven’t reached this point.

visited a food pantry? ^

had a fever? Just back in May. Hasn’t happened again since.

believed a conspiracy theory about the virus? Cringe, no.

had to take online classes? When the whole world was still at a loss on how to handle a global pandemic, aka early March, I briefly took Zoom sessions for some of my classes. But it proved to be difficult what with many students struggling with internet connections or being stuck somewhere without their school supplies, so my university canceled the sem altogether not long after and gave everyone general passing grades.

ate at a restaurant? I did a few times. I frequented coffee shops rather than restaurants, though.

walked through a drive-thru? I’ve...driven through a drive-thru, but not walk.

had your mask fog up your glasses? Every damn time I get out of the car, hahaha.

had to go to the hospital because of covid? Nope, not for myself or for someone else.

had to go to the hospital for a different reason? For my fever.

used hand sanitizer? At least once a day.

felt encouraged, joyful, or blessed? Now, especially. Things are starting to look up, at least for my own life.

[lorirwritesfanfic]

A Christmas Investigation

Author's note: Since today’s prompt was a request from @andi-the-cat​​, I wrote a Secret Santa version of TRR gang for our Choices Secret Santa host. Enjoy! [All characters are owned by Pixelberry Studios] Book: The Royal Romance / The Royal Holiday Characters: Drake Walker, Hana Lee, Lady Kiara, King Liam, MC (Jade Bourbon), Mara, Maxwell Beaumont, Lady Penelope, Olivia Nevrakis Rating: T Word count: 1666 Based on the prompt: Choices December Challenge Day Twenty-One (Shopping)

Guards walked around to secure the perimeter of the biggest Cordonial mall in the capital when the Royal motorcade stopped at the main entrance. As soon as the driver opened the door, The Royal Couple climbed out of the car followed by their closest friends and walked into the building.

"Our first secret Santa! This is so exciting," Penelope beamed as she locked arms with Kiara.

"I know, right? Nothing beats walking around the city to go shopping!" Maxwell enthused.

"Really? Not even breakdance challenges?" Hana teased.

"Or rap battles?" Jade smiled.

Maxwell furrowed his brows and scratched the back of his head in confusion. 

"I think you guys officially gave him brain damage," Drake commented.

"Really? If I knew this was all it took, I would've done it sooner," Olivia sneered.

The group chuckled a little while Maxwell still looked somewhat torn as they stopped in front of the Christmas tree.

"Alright, everyone. This is where we part ways and search for the gifts," Liam declared. "Let's try to keep the anonymity of the Secret Santa and avoid shopping together."

"Why were you looking at me while you said that?" Jade asked.

"Is that a rhetorical question or...?" Drake sniggered.

"Hey!" She yelled, sounding offended.

"We have to go with the odds, Little Blossom," Maxwell shrugged.

"Sure, you're the one to talk," Olivia derided.

"We'll meet here at 5 pm. Good luck!" Liam smiled and walked away followed by Bastien and half of the King's guard.

While the others slowly walked into opposite directions, Maxwell and Jade discreetly made their way back to the main Christmas tree of the mall and sat by a bench. 

"Okay, time to strategize. They're onto us so we have to keep our investigation on the down-low," he explained.

"Agreed. Mara?"

"We have eyes on Lady Olivia and Sir Drake. Lady Hana realized we're watching her and she's currently looking through kitchen utensils like frying pans and vegetable peelers," the bodyguard informed.

"Damn, why does she have to be so perceptive?" Maxwell whined.

"We're keeping tabs on her through security cameras," Mara added.

"What about Liam?" Jade asked.

"All the stores are answering his request to turn off security cameras while he's there because he assured his security detail can take care of any shoplifting attempts."

"Ugh... I forgot he can do that," Jade rolled eyes.

"We still can try to talk to him, just like we're going to do with Kiara and Penelope," Maxwell said.

"Actually, no you can't. He authorized his men to forbid anyone from getting near him. Today, he specifically ordered the King's guard to keep both of you away from him while he's shopping."

Jade gasped. "I can't believe him!"

"I think we underestimated our targets, Jade. What are we going to do?"

"We'll stick to the plan: start with the easy ones and move on to the stealthy ones. We'll still be able to figure out who got whom."

"Let's roll."

The two friends made their elaborate secret handshake and went separate ways. It didn't take long for their plan to be set in motion. Just a few steps away, Maxwell ran into Penelope.

"I'm not falling for that," she said, turning away from him

"Okay. But just be sure: did you find anything interesting for your giftee? Because I don't know I haven't found anything for mine," he asked eyeing at a very confused Penelope looking through the silverware at home decor store.

"I'm not sure. Are daggers sold in the same section people sell knives? Oh my gosh," she covered her mouth with both hands as she realized what she just said.

Maxwell hid a smile. "No. You'll find those at antique stores and spiritual shops. Maybe they have something on the decor section."

"Thanks," Penelope said avoiding eye contact with him and ran away to another section.

Fishing out his phone, he sent a message.

Jade got into the store and tiptoed her way to the section nearest to the one Kiara was in, while her bodyguard signaled for the staff to stay quiet. With another signal, a saleswoman nodded and approached Kiara.

"May I help you, my lady?"

"Uh... yes, please. I'm looking for something for a friend."

"A man, I suppose?"

"Yes."

"Do you have his number? Our newest collection just arrived and it's both elegant and versatile."

"Does it include boots?"

"Boots?" Jade mouthed to herself. 

"Yes, ma'am. Follow me."

Mara signaled for Jade to leave the section while Kiara passed by. The queen entered into a fitting room. 

After a little while, Kiara hasn't decided yet. "I don't know. Aren't boots a little impersonal for a Christmas gift?"

"It depends. Are you close to the person you're giving the present?"

"No..."

The sullen tone on Kiara's voice gave her away. She got Drake!

"Perhaps a nice cologne will be a better gift. It's a more thoughtful and personal gift and it'll show you're paying attention to what he likes."

"Interesting..." 

"How is he like?"

"Closed off, serious, manly..."

"Wow, Kiara..." Jade mumbled, shaking her head as she heard Kiara heaved a sigh when the saleswoman found the perfect Drake fragrance.

"Ma'am, scarlet was spotted buying six pairs of Manolo Blahnik's," Mara whispered from the fitting room next to Jade's.

"Any details that might stand out?"

"They're all red, silver and black, she ordered the clerk to wrap everything in the back of the store and smirked to the security cameras while giving the finger."

"Crap..." she grumbled. "Okay, we got what we wanted here. Let's go after Agent Lotus."

"Yes, ma'am."

At the south side of the mall, Drake rolled eyes while Maxwell tried to guess what he bought.

"Is it a game?"

"No."

"Shoes?"

"No."

"Clothes?"

"I'm not going to tell you. Stop following me around."

"Is it a portable DJ controller?"

"What?!" Drake asked, furrowing his eyebrows. "I didn’t get you."

"Well, hey! You said you're not going to tell me anything , but you said it's not me. That's something," Maxwell grinned. 

Drake rubbed a hand on his eyes, pinched the bridge of his nose and heaved a sigh as he continued to walk with Maxwell in a tow.

"Hey, you made it!" Jade beamed holding two large milkshake cups as Hana saunted over to her holding several bags. "Will somebody get a gift basket for Christmas?"

"Not really. These are some personal things, gifts to my parents, etcetera. I couldn't decide what to buy for my secret Santa so I bought lots of things. They deserve the best. Thanks," Hana smiled as she sat next to her friend putting the bags down to get the milkshake.

"You're welcome," Jade eyed her friend, looking for any clues she would give away, but nothing came up. "Well, since you went to several stores this afternoon, do you have any recommendations for me?"

"Sure. If you don't know what to buy, go to a gift store and buy a gift card," Hana fished out several gift cards from different stores. "I bought many of those just in case."

"That's... smart," Jade pressed her lips together.

"I know," Hana gave the queen a knowing smile. "You're still haven’t shopped anything. Do you need any help?"

"Nah... I'll be fine. Let's finish our milkshakes."

...

Three days later

Jade's designer heels clicked on the floor, knee bouncing up and down as she waited impatiently for Mara. 

"Do you think this is going to work?" Maxwell asked, sipping a glass of champagne from the couch.

"Maybe... At the very least it will give us any pointers," the queen replied.

Soon, Mara opened the door to Jade's office and quickly closed it, bowing to both of them.

"Alright, Mara. Tell us how it went."

"At first, nobody suspected anything. X-ray machines are commonly used as security procedures and we did find a couple of things. Lady Hana brought a painting and Sir Drake brought two boxes: one has dog snacks and the other has chocolate truffles."

"Okay, Drake got either you or Penelope and Hana could've gotten anyone else except Drake and Penelope," Maxwell concluded.

"Most likely he got Penelope and damn, Hana is so smart!" 

"Got any leads on Liam, Little Blossom?"

"Nope. He changed passwords to all his electronic devices and when I tried to seduce me, he managed to turn the tables and I ended up revealing who I got," Jade chewed on a nail.

"Sheesh... We did try to outsmart a man trained to stay impassive even under torture," Maxwell scratched the back of his head. "Anyway, let's see what we got."

"Kiara got Drake, Drake most likely got Penelope and Penelope got Olivia. Olivia got either Hana, Kiara or me."

"Why are you so sure it's a woman?"

"Well, my husband doesn't wear heels. Do you?"

"I tried..."

"Really?" 

"I may or may not have a certain fascination for that Ukrainian boyband after you showed me their videos when we were in Ramsford, but I don't know how they manage to breakdance in heels."

"Whose shoes did you try on?" Jade asked with an amused smile.

"That's not the point."

"It was Kiara's, wasn't it?" She grinned.

"Her feet are so big. I thought it could fit, but I broke them," Maxwell grimaced.

Jade laughed. "It happens to the best of us, Max."

He smiled sheepishly.

"Your Majesty, King Liam is getting suspicious again and he's asking for you and Lord Maxwell," Mara informed.

"We should join the party," Maxwell said, putting his glass on the side table and standing up.

"Alright," the queen stood up, smoothing the skirt of her dress. As they leave the office to join the Cordonian Christmas Feast, she spoke again. "We didn't figure it out, but it was fun."

"Yeah..." He smiled. "Maybe we should do a secret easter bunny next year?"

"Is it a thing?"

"I don't know... It could be," he shrugged.

Jade arched an eyebrow with a smile. "Will we do an secret easter bunny investigation?"

“I’m down if you are,” Maxwell wiggled eyebrows.

Jade laughed, lacing arms with Maxwell as they walked down the hallway.

[worryinglyinnocent]

Fic: Everything Money Can Buy (4/12)

Summary: The Greatest Store in the World AU. When misfortune strikes and leaves Emma Swan and her son homeless just before Christmas, the ever-resourceful Emma has a ready solution. They’ll move into Mills Department Store, a place they can only dream of affording to buy from. It’s not easy, having to deal with a perpetually grumpy doorman, a nasty assistant manager, and an extremely suspect Santa, but Emma and Henry soon learn that the kindness of strangers is something money can’t buy.

Swan Believer centric, with eventual Swan Queen and background Rumbelle and Dwarf Star.

Rated: G

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[One] [Two] [Three] [AO3]

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Four

Henry wasn’t really sure what to make of Mum’s plan to camp in Mills until the holidays were over. On the face of it, it seemed like a brilliant idea. There was more than enough space for them, after all, and even if they had to keep dodging Zelena and Gold and various security guards, it wasn’t like there was nowhere to hide. Mum had already proved very good at blending in and getting by with sheer audacity.

Henry couldn’t shake the feeling that something was going to go wrong, though. Living out of a department store that they couldn’t afford to buy from seemed fraught with danger. What if they broke something that, unlike the microwave, was actually for sale? What if they ran out of sell-by scones to eat? He didn’t want to confide his fears to Mum, because he knew that they really didn’t have any alternative, and he wanted to go back to the homeless shelter as little as she did.

They had ended up back in the toy section as they waited for the shop to close, and as good a time as Henry had been having with the display models, there was only so much he could do with them whilst the department was still full of other kids and parents frantically searching for the one gift that their child was clamouring for in time for Christmas. The adults were behaving even more badly than the children were, and nowhere was this more embodied than in Santa Claus himself.

Mills had a new Santa this year. For all the previous years that Henry had visited the store during the Christmas period, whilst Santa’s grotto was in residence, their Santa had always been played by the same man, one who had a genuine beard and merry twinkling eyes.

This year’s Santa was a much younger man with a fake beard that kept falling off his chin to show scrappy black stubble underneath. He was also accompanied by a new elf. The previous Santa’s elf had been a jolly little old lady whom Henry was fairly sure was actually Mrs Santa. The new elf was a small, fat man, trailing after Santa as he made his way around the toy department advertising the grotto. They passed Henry and the elf thrust several flyers into his hands. Henry discreetly got rid of them by shoving them under a display of action figures.

There was something very off about this Santa, and it wasn’t the way that he was swaying slightly and smelled rather strongly of rum. In fact, his sack was making a distinct sloshing noise as he swung it around haphazardly, and the elf kept having to duck to avoid being brained with contraband liquor. No, Henry didn’t trust him an inch, and his mistrust was rewarded when Santa came across Mum, who was back sitting in one of the tiny chairs in the corner playing with a Rubik’s cube. It was good to know that Mum was still a kid at heart as well.

“Hey, gorgeous. Fancy a ride on my sleigh?”

He waggled his eyebrows and Mum just gave him a disgusted look.

“I think you might be the worst department store Santa I’ve ever met,” she said conversationally.

“Yeah, well, it’s only a seasonal job,” Santa muttered. “I get much better gigs in the summer.”

“Don’t let the children hear you say that. You’ll be ruining the magic of Christmas for them, and I don’t think that the management would take too kindly to that. I’d be careful if I were you. You don’t want to lose this gig in the winter, however much better your summer ones might be.”

Santa just glowered at her, and moved away, his ho ho hos having lost what little merriness they’d had to start with.

Henry went over to Mum, sitting down on the chair beside her and wondering what to say. He couldn’t really tell her that he was bored, it would be ungrateful. He was in the greatest toy department in the country, probably, surrounded by every toy his heart could possibly desire, but the problem was that he didn’t actually own any of them and at the end of the day, they would all have to go back on their shelves. He wanted his own things, even if they were shabby and worn from years of love. He wanted his own space, his own home. The store was great, but it was nothing like a home. If only they could just go down to their tent and hole up against the world with all their own stuff.

Mum successfully completed the Rubik’s cube and looked over at him.

“You ok?”

“Yep.”

Mum raised an eyebrow and Henry sighed. She was always able to tell when he was lying. Well, she could generally always tell when anyone was lying, which was a useful superpower to have in most situations, but not when she was using it against him.

“Yeah, you’re right, it’s downright depressing here,” she said. “Let’s go downstairs to books. I reckon that as long as we don���t dog-ear them and we put them back on the shelves when we’re done, they wouldn’t notice us taking a couple for personal use for a while.”

Henry could get behind that idea whole-heartedly, and they made their way down to the books section. Just like toys, it was stupidly busy, but at least there were a lot fewer screaming babies and toddlers throwing tantrums in this department. There were even armchairs. Henry made a beeline for the children’s section and was soon wrapped up in the world of fairy tales. Maybe there were some upsides to living in the store after all.

X

Behind the customer service desk, Belle eased one foot out of her stiletto heel and wriggled her toes before replacing it and doing the same on the other side. Whilst she was used to wearing sky-scraping heels on a regular basis, standing up in them for ten hours a day was not something that she would wish on anyone. Christmas was always the worst time for anyone working in retail, be it the cashiers in the food hall or her at the customer service desk. Everyone was always in a bad mood, everyone was always ready to throw down and fight over the slightest perceived annoyance, and no one spared a thought for the poor staff for whom it was also Christmastime, and most of whom didn’t have the cash to splash on anything from the store that they worked at.

Still, however much her feet were hurting her, Belle knew that Alistair had it worse, standing outside in the cold all day, in all weathers. The man must have an immune system made of iron, the elements that he was exposed to. If she’d been in that position she was sure that she’d never be in work due to catching colds and chills and flu all the time. Since everyone’s first impression of Mills was the doorman, it really wouldn’t do for him to be standing there sneezing every five minutes.

She hoped that the handwarmers would help him. She found them to be a godsend herself when she was walking home after work. Belle sighed. She probably shouldn’t be thinking about Alistair quite so much. People would start to talk. In fact, people were already talking. Her friend Leroy from maintenance had been complaining that she should just ask Gold out already before they both died from mutual pining, to which Belle had promptly responded that if she was going to make a move on her crush then Leroy also had to ask out Astrid in the tearoom.

Leroy had somewhat grudgingly stopped mentioning it after that, but Belle did have to admit that he had a point. She was hardly going to get anywhere if she kept dancing around her feelings like this. She’d hoped that giving him the handwarmers earlier would have shown him how she felt, and maybe elicited some kind of reciprocation from him. Leroy maintained that the feelings Belle had were requited, but Belle wasn’t so sure. Alistair had always been closed off and reticent with everyone, and Belle considered it an honour that his usual cool demeanour thawed out a little with her. She knew that he considered her to be a friend, but she couldn’t help wondering if it meant that he considered her slightly more than a friend.

Presently, the man himself came into the shop, rubbing his arms through his coat.

“It’s brass monkeys out there,” he grumbled, stamping his feet to try and get the circulation flowing again and grimacing when the motion jarred his bad ankle. Belle’s heart went out to him; if she’d had a chair she would have offered it to him, but apparently senior management did not approve of chairs. “Thanks for the handwarmers, though.” He took off his gloves and pulled out the sachets. “I’d be losing fingers to frostbite if it wasn’t for them.”

Belle took one; it was still warm and her own hands weren’t exactly scorching after spending all day in the foyer with people constantly coming in and out; letting the central heating out and bringing the cold air in. She was looking forward to a long hot bath when she got home. Maybe by the time she went to bed she’d have thawed out enough to get some sleep.

She looked over at Alistair, and found that he was also looking at her, and they both looked away, embarrassed at being caught. Belle straightened up. This was the perfect moment to ask him, really. There weren’t any customers coming in or out; there was no-one queuing up to complain at her. All she had to do was ask him out. Ask him if he’d like to go for a drink after work.

“Alistair, I…”

“Ah, Mr Gold. Miss French. As much as I hate to break up the party, I do believe that the doorman is supposed to be on the outside of the building?”

Alistair rolled his eyes, grabbing his gloves and the handwarmers off Belle’s desk. Belle just glowered at Zelena. Trust her to come and break up their moment. She had a knack for that. No matter if she had been nowhere near them five minutes before, she had the uncanny ability to know when Belle and Alistair were ‘fraternising on the clock’ so to speak, and she would appear in the nick of time to prevent Belle from ever managing to get the words out.

“You know, Miss West, I’d like to see you stand outside for ten hours and see how you get on with it,” Alistair said.

“Well, unlike you, Mr Gold, that’s not what I’m being paid to do.” She made little shooing motions towards the door and Alistair moved away, back towards the bleak December streets. He made a rude gesture at Zelena’s back as he left, and Belle couldn’t help but giggle.

“There’s really nothing funny about it, Miss French,” Zelena said. “You shouldn’t be distracting your colleagues. It sets an extremely bad example, and as I’m sure you’re aware, it’s almost Christmas. What does Christmas mean, Miss French?”

“Christmas means customers,” Belle intoned. It was the mantra that Zelena drilled into them every day at the staff briefing. Christmas means customers, and the customers are always right. Customers pay your wages, so they must be treated as if they’re God’s gift to humanity.

Sometimes, Belle thought that senior management might well be worse than the customers themselves. She often got the impression that Zelena would stake out the shop looking for potentially unhappy customers and then persuade them to complain, just so that she could get her money’s worth out of Belle.

Every Christmas, Belle swore that it would be the last one that she worked in retail for. Every Christmas found her living a lie. At least at Mills the money was much better than in the previous places she’d worked, but really, all customers were the same when you got down to it. For all the Mills clientele were the crème de la crème, their manners were just as shocking as everyone else’s when they were complaining. In fact, more so, most of the time, since they worked on the principle that money gave them a license to behave however they pleased.

Belle sighed, trying not to feel bitter, but it was hard. Too many festive seasons spent listening to people far richer than her scream at her that she had personally ruined their Christmas had made her lose the faith in humanity that she’d tried to hold onto for so long. Maybe that was why she sought solace with Leroy and Alistair so much. They had to deal with the ungrateful public just as much as she did, and to the public, they were invisible, the door holders and the microwave menders, of no note to the customers, who were naturally the most important people in the universe, and boy, did they know it.

Speaking of important customers, though… Belle caught sight of the mother and son (at least, she assumed they were a mother and son) that she had met earlier when she’d taken the handwarmers out to Alistair. They were coming down the stairs into the foyer, and she could have sworn she’d already seen them going up and down a few times today already.

Well, it wasn’t unusual for people to make a day of a shopping trip in Mills and go from top to bottom of the store and back again to make sure they hadn’t missed any of it, but they seemed to be suspiciously free of bags. In fact, they’d lost the bags they came in with somewhere.

Belle wondered, because the more she thought about it, the more she remembered seeing them come in the previous day as well, still laden down with all their baggage.

Unlike some more naturally suspicious souls would be, Belle wasn’t worried about them being shoplifters. In her experience, the people who stole from Mills were either professionals who stole to order for customers who could no longer afford the luxuries to which they had become accustomed, or people who could well afford what they were taking but who nevertheless baulked at the price and felt that since their haggling didn’t work, they’d just take it anyway. If you were desperate enough to have to steal to survive, then there was no way that you’d steal from Mills. The goods would be too hard to shift and would be completely useless. If you were living hand to mouth then you needed basic essentials; Belle knew that from experience after her father had lost his livelihood and she’d been breadwinning for the both of them. Mills provided a lot of things, but basic essentials wasn’t really one of them.

The pair coming down the stairs looked around furtively then ducked down towards the basement, and it made Belle wonder. Living in a department store was better than living on the streets, after all, especially so close to Christmas. Although she had no intention of telling another soul about her suspicions, she vowed to keep an eye out for them, just in case. She didn’t have all that much to spare, but she could help them out in her own way.

[gwentoryfics]

Hot for Teacher, Part 2.

REPOSTED FROM MY ORIGINAL BLOG, GWENTORY.

Genre | College Student x College Professor Smut AU

Pairing | Hongseok x Reader x Hyunggu (Kino)

Words | 12k

Summary | You never realized how much one drunken night could color the rest of your college experience until you discover that the handsome stranger from your cousin’s wedding is also the new professor at your university.

Warnings | Swearing. Needlessly sexist and traditional parents. Plenty of angst to go around. Explicit smut. Fingering. Oral (female receiving). Playlist includes songs with explicit lyrics.

Parts | 1 • 2 • 3 • 4 • 5 • 6 • More Coming Soon AO3 | 1 • 2

Playlist | Spotify • Youtube

Note | Merry Christmas/Happy Holidays, my little peaches! Thank you for all of your kind words regarding this series, and thank you for your patience as I worked to put this together. Lots of life changes happened in the last few months, including moving to another state and adopting a pup (who is yet to be housebroken). I’ve been very busy, but I’m thrilled to finally update! Oh, and pro tip: I will only ever post fics & asks on this blog, so please feel free to turn on notifications to make sure you don’t miss Part 3!

On Monday night, you get to R&B Ensemble rehearsal ten minutes early to make sure you have time to warm up a bit on your own. A handful of students are already in the room, and you spot Kino chatting with a girl, whom you assume to be another vocalist. He waves as you walk by, and you wave back. Boy, he's got cheekbones for days.

Tucked back by the keyboard is the bassist with his long limbs and brooding aura, a face that is somewhat familiar to you - you can't quite place it, though. He has a sharp jawline and mussed up hair, a leather jacket thrown over the back of his chair. He fiddles with his amp before plucking out a funky bass groove, completely in his own world.

You walk in his direction, heading for the keyboard and shooting out a simple greeting as you take your seat. "Hey."

He glances up, nodding once in response before returning his attention to his instrument. He must not be much of a talker, which is fine by you. You flip on the keyboard and begin cycling through scales and modes to get your fingers warm, sure to keep the volume low so as not to disturb your new bandmates. As you move onto some arpeggiated jazz chords, you notice a tall, loud presence burst in through the door.

"Ayyyyy!" Wooseok Jung calls out, startling the poor girl that had entered right in front of him. He drops his headphones so they hang around his neck, and he chucks his drumsticks right past you, where one hits the sound-proofed wall and the other bounces off the bassist's chest with a dull thud.

"Damn it, Wooseok, you piece of shit." The bassist hurls the stick right back at him, and Wooseok catches it effortlessly.

"My man, Yuto. I didn't know you were in on this." Wooseok traipses over to your corner of the room, goofy grin on his face. He holds a fist out for you to pound. "Hey girl, what's up."

"Hey, good to see you." You bump fists. You had a class with Wooseok last year - first level aural skills - and although you wouldn't exactly call him a friend, it seems you both remember each other.

"Have a good summer?" He asks you as he takes a seat at the drum kit, sticks spinning between his fingers. You may never know how he fits all of that leg behind the drums.

You nod. "I worked all summer at the record store in my hometown, and that was a blast. Did a couple gigs at some open mics, too. You?"

"Ah, nice!" Wooseok clicks the sticks against the rim of the snare drum. Come to think of it, you haven't realized until today that he's a drummer. It makes sense, though, considering the fact that he was always tapping rhythms on the desk in your previous class. "I was up here taking summer classes. I tell you what, music theory is not my friend. I can't read clefs for shit. Give me the most intricate rhythms you can find and I can handle that, no problem. But give me a set of pitches and a marimba and I'm lost. I don't know how you do it."

You laugh with a short shrug, dramatically tossing your hair over your shoulder. "Just my natural talent, I guess."

A grin splits across Wooseok's face, cute and genuine. "Well aren't you a lucky little duck." The warmth of his smile makes you blush, and you have to look away from him.

He’s right, though; you definitely got lucky with your musical skills. Your parents started you in piano lessons at a young age, so you started reading music right around the same time you started reading words. It's second nature to you now.

A thought occurs to you, and you meet his eyes again. "You know, I could help you with theory if you want."

"Really?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“Dude, you would be a lifesaver. That would be awesome." Wooseok breathes a sigh of relief. "And in exchange, I can… teach you about drumming or something, I don’t know. I’ll owe you. Whatever you want."

Sounds fair to you. You give him a sharp nod. "Deal."

"Deal," he agrees, shooting you another brief smile before turning to Yuto. “Yo, Yuto. Throw down a line. Let’s jam.”

"Throw down a line?" Yuto immediately questions Wooseok's choice of words, eyeing the drummer critically.

"Yeah, a bass line. Hit me with it."

"Who talks like that?" Yuto mumbles the question rhetorically and starts plucking out a groove. Once his rhythm and tempo is established, Wooseok comes in with a simple drumbeat to keep it moving.

You don't know much about bass, but you know the pitch of the strings and you understand that each fret marks a half step (thank you, music theory). It takes you a minute, but you’re able to determine that he's in the key of D. You start plunking out some chords until you fall into the pocket of the groove, finally finding the correct chord progression.

"What key?" A girl on the other side of the room asks, slipping the strap of her electric guitar over her shoulder.

You start calling out chord names as you work through the progression until it seems she's got the hang of it, and then you improvise, letting your fingers follow the melodies in your head.

This is it. This is your absolute most favorite thing in the whole world. Surrounding yourself in music, collaborating and creating, expressing your spirit through the piano- er, keyboard. Riding the waves of jazz and soul and R&B gives joy to your life in a way that nothing else can. This feeling is what you live for.

Mid-jam, the teacher comes strolling in, and she grooves the whole way from the door to the front of the room, looking absolutely elated at the impromptu music you’ve all created. Wooseok calls out a five, six, seven, and... to signal everyone to stop at the end of the phrase, and the teacher claps a little too enthusiastically.

"Oh. My goodness." She beams. "I think this is going to be a fabulous semester."

After rehearsal, you catch up to Kino as he tucks his sheet music into his backpack. The long hair on top of his head falls in his eyes, but it could never hide those cheekbones.

"I had no idea you could sing like that. That Bruno song is perfect for you!" You stand next to him, and he looks up from his seat with a wide smile. You mean every word; his voice absolutely blew you away. He especially stands out in the group because he's the only male vocalist this semester, but there's something special about the quality of his voice that gives you goosebumps when he sings.

"Thank you! I'm really excited about it. I love Bruno Mars." He grins, glowing. "And what about you? It's like the keys are part of your soul. You're really freaking good, you know that?"

"Thank you, Hyunggu." You emphasize his birth name, which the teacher had brought to your attention during roll call.

Kino rolls his eyes, smile suddenly gone from his lips. "I don't like that name."

"Sorry," you laugh quietly. "Why Kino, then? If you don't mind me asking."

"I picked it for myself. It's like... a stage name." He stands, gathering his things. "I kind of wanted a fresh start for college, so I'm reinventing myself, I guess."

"I can respect that." As the two of you head for the door, you turn back over your shoulder and call out to the friendly giant to confirm the plans you had made. "Wooseok, see you Thursday, yeah?"

The tall drummer points his sticks at you, shooting another charming smile your way. "Thursday."

When you're out of the room, Kino asks, "Are you friends with him?"

"Not exactly? I'm going to tutor him in music theory."

Kino hums quietly. "He seems like a handful."

"He does, doesn't he," you laugh. "We'll see how it goes."

The two of you wave goodnight to the security guard in the lobby of the music building before heading out into the illuminated city. A slow smile touches your lips as you look around.

Moving here for university has been one of the biggest adventures of your life. Up until you began school last year, you had never spent much time in such a large city. It’s clear to you now that this is where you’re meant to be; the city energizes you, awakens your senses, and opens up creative doorways you never realized existed. You’ve never felt so true to yourself, so connected to your surroundings.

Everything here had been so perfect until Professor Yang showed up. You feel your smile fade. If he taught at literally any other university, it would be no problem at all. You could look back fondly on your night together instead of labeling it The Biggest Mistake Of Your Life.

There’s really no point in getting worked up about it, though. Maybe it won’t be a big deal after all. Maybe you’ll talk to him tomorrow, just like Minseo wants you to, and it’ll all be fine. Or you could just ignore each other the whole semester - that might work. You’ll just silently drool over him from your spot at the back of the classroom, trying not to be distracted by the naked memory of him while you take notes. If only he hadn’t been your professor…

If you had crossed paths again under any other circumstances, you would undoubtedly chase down the chance to sleep with him again. Although you are skeptical of your ability to seduce him while sober, you want nothing more than to relive that night with him over and over. Hell, you might even go on a proper date with him, if he asked you.

The thought makes your cheeks burn. You’ve got it bad.

In the end, it’s all just a fantasy. You’ll never sleep with him again, you’ll never go on a date. He’s your professor, and you are his student. Even if you weren’t taking his class, it would be inappropriate to be involved in any sort of romantic capacity. There’s no way that you can be together, and that’s that.

You hate that you actually feel sad about it.

“Whoa!” Kino’s hand grabs your elbow, yanking you back onto the sidewalk as you start to cross the street, too distracted to notice the oncoming traffic. “Be careful!”

You’re snapped back into the present, watching as a taxi flies by. It would have easily taken you out if you had continued walking. You really need to stop thinking about Professor Yang before you get yourself hurt.

“Are you alright?” Kino’s voice is tight with concern as he holds onto your arm.

You force your smile. “Yeah, sorry. I was just in my head about some things. I promise I’m not usually so distracted while walking.”

His hand lingers on your arm for a moment as he scans your face, and the corner of his mouth lifts as he lets you go. “I sure hope you’re not or you’re going to be in trouble without me around.”

The light changes, and you both safely step into the crosswalk. “But you know, if I got hit by a car, I could probably sue for enough money to cover my student loans,” you joke.

“Only if the driver is at fault,” Kino is quick to correct you. “If you’re the one that causes the accident, you can’t get any money from it. But nice try.”

“Damn. There’s never an easy solution.”

“Truth.” He chuckles. “Maybe we should have gone to business school or medical school to get a degree that would actually give us financial security.”

With a groan, you roll your eyes. That sentiment is all too familiar. “You sound like my parents.”

“Mine, too.” Kino sighed. “They wanted me to be a doctor. Yours?”

“Secretary to a CEO. What kind of sexist bullshit is that?” You frown. “My family is very traditional in the sense that they believe men should be in charge, whether it’s in business or in the family. Women are just there to assist.”

“Wow. That’s unbelievable.” Kino turns to you as you wait to cross another street. “I mean, you don’t seem like you would want to be a CEO, considering your obvious passion for music, but I think you’re definitely capable if you worked for it.”

His sincere encouragement brings a genuine smile to your face. “Thanks, Kino. That really means a lot to me.”

“You’re welcome.” His cheekbones pop out as he grins. “I’m sure your parents will come around eventually.”

“I guess we’ll just have to wait and see. I mean, the whole secretary thing was already an improvement from their original wish for me.”

“Which was…?”

“Farmer’s wife.”

“What?” Kino burst into laughter. “That’s impossible to imagine.”

“Well I grew up on a farm, so it’s not that big of a stretch.”

“Really?”

You nod, safely crossing the street as the light changes. “Yeah. I’m from a really small town a few hours south of here. My family runs a wheat farm. My mom taught me how to cook and sew and everything, as if we were living in the nineteen-fifties. They didn’t even want me to get a degree at first because they thought it was unnecessary.”

“So how did you end up here?”

“I begged and pleaded until they finally caved. I asked for a chance to pursue something I really love. This is my one shot, so I really have to give it my all. I don’t think they’ll give me another chance. If I screw this up, they’ll probably try to marry me off to the neighbor boy or something.”

“We can’t have that.” Kino’s sweet smile radiates as he looks over at you. “I’m rooting for you, _____.”

Your chest fills with warmth. You’re so thankful to have made friends at school that are supportive of your dreams, and you’re glad to find that same support in Kino. “And I for you.”

Together, you veer off to the left, away from the glittering skyline of the city. You ask, “So where are you from? Is your family nearby?”

“Very near, actually.” He gestures vaguely south. “I grew up on the south side.”

"Ah." You hide your frown, but your curt response gives you away. You've heard all kinds of rotten things about the gang-related violence of the south side, and you can't imagine someone like Kino surviving in that kind of environment.

"It's not as terrible and dangerous as you probably think. It's got a bad reputation, but it's not all rotten."

You just nod. "So, wait, do you still live there? Aren't you headed the wrong way?"

With a shake of his head, he replies, "No, I'm living on campus, at Plymouth. Part of my whole fresh start, you know? Had to get out of the house and experience living on my own for a while."

Plymouth is across the street from your own dorm. "I'm at Turner!"

“We’re basically neighbors,” Kino comments.

As your buildings start to come into view, you realize how close they actually are. And how your room actually has a very direct view of Plymouth.

“Please tell me you don’t live on the east side of the building.”

“I do, actually. Why?”

You laugh. “I’m going to have to start closing my blinds whenever I get dressed.”

His eyes grow wide. “Have you been giving my whole dorm a peep show for the last week?”

“Maybe?” You cover your face with your hands as you continue to laugh, embarrassed. This summer’s sexual awakening may have persuaded you to live a bit more adventurously… Is Kino blushing?

“Don’t worry, I never noticed.” He spoke softly. “So don’t feel uncomfortable.”

“Okay,” you murmur with a quiet chuckle, surprised that you’re not terribly concerned with what he may or may not have seen so far. You turn the corner, headed for the entrance to Turner Hall, and Kino keeps up with you.

"Oh, hey, I was wondering..." He starts, pulling his cell phone out of his pocket. "Since we're in a lot of classes together this semester, maybe we could swap phone numbers? You know, in case either of us wants help with homework, or is going to miss class or something."

"Good idea!" You agree, pulling up in front of the building's entrance. You fish your own phone from your backpack and bring up the 'New Contact' screen before swapping phones with him. Once you've traded numbers, you pocket your phone. "Well, city boy, I'm gonna head inside now. I'll see you later?"

He nods, waving as he backs away. "See you, farm girl."

You watch as he crosses the street, heading for Plymouth. Something about him makes you feel at ease, and you have a feeling you'll end up spending quite a bit of time getting to know him this semester. With all of the classes you share, you're going to see him nearly every day of the week, and he seems pretty eager to be your friend. You wouldn't mind that.

Turning to head inside, you fish your room key out of your wallet, swiping it at the security desk as you pass by. As you call the elevator, a familiar dark figure appears in your peripheral.

You turn to greet him as the elevator door opens. "Hey, Yuto."

He nods silently, and you both file into the elevator.

"I didn't realize we live in the same building."  You press floor nine and wait for him to make his selection, but he doesn't budge. "...Or the same floor?"

"Small world," he murmurs quietly, seemingly unfazed.

An uncomfortably awkward silence fills the small elevator, and you absentmindedly toy with the strap of your backpack as you search for something to talk about. "Are you excited about our set list?"

He shrugs so minutely you hardly even notice. "We've got some good music."

It doesn't really seem like he wants to talk to you, and you're not one to push him into a conversation, even though it's painfully awkward. You just hum quietly and let it be.

The door glides open, and you both head left down the hallway. He stops at the door directly across the hall from yours. Without a word, he disappears into his room.

How neighborly.

"Minseo, I'm freaking out." You paced in the small hotel room you had both chipped in on, just a floor above your destination for the night. "Am I seriously going to do this?"

"Relax, would you?" She sat calmly atop the queen sized bed, watching as you almost lost your balance from turning too quickly. "It's not like this is your first time."

"But it's my first time with a random guy. Can I even do that?" You froze in place. "Am I even allowed to do that?"

"_____! Of course you're allowed! You're an adult!" Minseo sprung up from the bed and grabbed you by the shoulders. "There is nothing wrong with you going downstairs and sleeping with a man you just met. If that's something you want to do, then I fully support it. You should let yourself have some fun."

You let out a small, frustrated whine. "I want to. Sweet baby Jesus, I want to."

Her hands moved up to cup your face. "Okay. You're gonna be fine."

Nodding, you exhaled slowly. "I'm an adult. I can do this."

"Yes! That's the spirit." She patted your cheeks before turning you around and walking you towards the bathroom. "Now go jump in the shower."

"Shower?"

"You don't want to show up all sweaty, do you?"

"Am I sweaty?"

"Go freshen up." She pushed you into the small bathroom. "But don't get your hair wet. Just make sure you're clean down there."

Your eyes widened and you realized she was right - it wasn't a bad idea to shower for the sake of below-the-belt cleanliness. "Okay."

"Good girl. Try not to fall over in there." Minseo encouraged you as she shut the door.

Five minutes and one off-key ‘I Wanna Dance With Somebody’ shower concert later, you emerged from the bathroom a new woman. You felt as fresh as you smelled, and the steam from the shower had helped clear your mind a bit - but not everything was perfect.

Wrapped in a towel, you held your dress and underwear in your hand, and a pout crept onto your face. "Minseooooooo."

"What's wrong, dear?"

"I'm clean, but my clothes aren't."

She pried her eyes from the television, which was playing some trashy reality show, and she gestured for you to come towards her. "Let me see the dress." You handed it to her and she looked it over, sniffing it here and there. "I mean, it's not like dry-cleaners fresh, but it doesn't reek. There's not much you can do about that anyway, since we obviously didn't pack a change of clothes."

You pursed your lips. "I guess you're right."

"Nix the underwear, though."

"What?" Your cheeks flamed. "No underwear?"

"You heard me." She plucked the panties from your hand and tossed them over her shoulder into the corner of the room. "You'll feel gross putting dirty underwear on after you've showered, right? And besides, he'll think it's super hot that you're commando."

"Or he'll think I'm a slut. What if he likes nice girls that enjoy wearing underwear? Hm?"

"Honey, he wouldn't have invited you to his room if he wanted a nice girl who likes underwear." Minseo took your hand affectionately. "It’s okay to be slutty."

You furrowed your brow at her for a moment before a sly smile touched your lips and you let out a small giggle. "Am I turning into a slut?"

"Only if you want to, dear."

"I might want to. I might want to be a slut for Hongseok." You burst into a ball of laughter, absolutely giddy.

"Alright." Minseo laughed too, handing you back your dress. "Put this back on and get ready to slut it up."

By the time you and Shinhye enter the science building on Tuesday morning, you've almost entirely rid yourself of the dread gurgling low in your gut at the thought of seeing him. You tell yourself that it's just another class, he's just another teacher, and you will survive this. Sipping at the coffee Shinhye insisted on stopping for, you do your best to keep a level head.

Minseo’s advice rings in your ears. Tell him that you’re not going to say anything about what happened. Tell him that you want him to treat you normally. That’s what you want, right?

When you had called her last week, she had easily convinced you that talking to him about the whole situation would be a good idea. But now that the day of confrontation has arrived, you’re simply too chicken to even consider saying a word. Besides, you weren't entirely sure how coherently you'd be able to talk to him while sober, given the fact that you still swoon a little every time you look at him.

When you step into the classroom, you hardly glance in Professor Yang's direction. He's seated at the desk, typing away on his laptop. You focus on your seat at the back of the room, preparing for another few hours of being ignored, but before you can make it too far you hear him call your name.

"_____."

The sound sends a delicious ripple through your limbs, and you turn your head at a sloth's pace, afraid to make eye contact. He casually waves you over to his desk, as if it's no big deal that he just acknowledged you and that he wants you to come over so you can presumably talk one on one.

Shinhye continues on to her seat after giving you a curious look, and you turn back, making your way over to Professor Yang. He's fixated on his computer as you walk over, but he glances up at you ever so briefly when you reach his desk.

His voice is low as he acknowledges you. "Stop by my office after class. I think we need to talk."

A lump fills your throat and you're unable to speak. You really aren’t able to avoid it after all.

He peeks up at you again, probably curious because of your lack of verbal response, so you nod. He picks up a stack of papers and hands them to you. "Please pass these out to your classmates."

You take the packets - it's today's lab paperwork. He gestures to the rest of the class as if to say well, go on then, and you frown. You don't expect him to be friendly with you, but frankly he's coming across kind of rude and bossy, and that doesn't sit well with you. Begrudgingly, you do as he asks and distribute the packets.

When you return to your seat, Shinhye is quick to ask, "What was that about?"

"He just wanted help passing stuff out." Not totally a lie.

"I didn't realize you were such a teacher's pet," she teases.

"I'm not a teacher's pet. He asked me, so what could I do? It's not like I begged him to let me help."

"Whoa, relax. It's just a joke." Shinhye chuckled, adjusting the circular frames that rest on her nose. "It's not like you to be so uptight."

You take a deep breath, getting your head on straight. You need to be normal around Shinhye. With a plastered on smirk, you tease back. "That's your job, right?"

Shinhye purses her lips, but you can see the smile in her eyes. You laugh.

"Aw, come on, I love youuuuu."

"Yeah, yeah," she brushes off your affections, pushing you away when you lean in to coo over her. "Love you, too."

You smile. You may have to keep her in the dark, but her friendship will surely be one of the only things that can keep you sane through the rest of the semester.

It took a solid five minutes of pacing in front of his hotel room door before you finally worked up the courage to knock. Your stomach twisted in knots as you rapped your knuckles against the wood, checking for the thousandth time that the little door number definitely said 417.

You were really doing it. You were really getting ready to probably sleep with someone you just met. You had never done anything like that before, but it was about time you grew up and had a sense of adventure, right?

Any semblance of confidence you had slowly started to fade as you realized the door was not opening. Had you waited too long to come over? Was he already asleep? Were you at the wrong room altogether? Had he intentionally given you the wrong number? Why would he do that?

You tried knocking once more, but still no one answered. Disappointment swelled in your chest, tugging at your heart - you were surprised by how much you cared. He was just some guy, anyway. But it hurt to think that you may have just been rejected. After all, the fear of rejection had kept you from approaching him in the first place.

After another minute of waiting, you decided that you needed to move on. He wasn't going to answer the door. You headed for the stairwell, resigning yourself to a night with Minseo instead.

As you reached for the door to the stairs, the elevator next to you opened and a loud group of people spilled out. You assumed they were all coming up from the wedding, judging by their attire. And to your delight, one of the last people off the elevator was exactly the gorgeous man you had been waiting for.

You met Hongseok's eyes, a slow smile stretching across your lips. Perhaps not all hope for the night was lost.

He slid his hands into his pockets with a coy smile, his tux jacket draped over his arm. "Going somewhere?"

"I thought you gave me a phony room number," you confessed, tongue lazily forming the words. Wow, you definitely drank more than you should have.

"I would have to be crazy to do that to you." His gaze traveled down your figure, lingering on the hand that gripped the door handle. "Still want to come over?"

Nodding, you tried your best to contain your nervousness and look cool as you released the handle, letting the door close quietly.

He cocked his head in the direction of his room, a relaxed smirk on his lips. "Let's go, then."

You followed him back to room 417, and he opened the door, stepping aside to let you in first. Despite the wave of nervousness that washed over you, you felt ready. Eager, even. You let your hand casually brush against his leg as you slip into the room, desperate to touch him again.

His hand darted out to capture yours - rough skin but a gentle touch. Your feet froze and you turned back to meet his piercing gaze, your heart suddenly pounding in your chest as the door closed behind him.

What should you do? How did hook-ups usually work? Chat first and then work your way up to the main event, or just dive in head first? You were clueless. You knew that you wanted to rip that damn shirt off of him, to press yourself against him and get lost in the feel of his skin. But you didn't want to be too forward and make things uncomfortable.

Taking his time, Hongseok approached you slowly, smoothing your hair and lifting your chin with his knuckle, fingers still wrapped around your wrist. Heat blossomed in your core as you looked up at him, thinking he might just go for it and kiss you. Maybe he was as impatient as you felt. Maybe he needed to have you, too.

He leaned in, but he didn't aim for your lips. He targeted your ear, murmuring softly and tickling you with his breath. "You're cute."

Warmth spread rapidly across your cheeks and you quietly stuttered, "Th-thank you."

But it was just a tease, hardly even a taste of how it felt to be close to him. He backed away, pulling you a bit deeper into the room before releasing your hand. "Mind if I play some music?"

You shook your head carefully, resisting the urge to take his hand back. "Not at all."

As he fished out his cell phone and plugged it into the speakers that sat on the desk, you looked around the room and took a seat at the edge of the bed. It wasn't a particularly fancy hotel, so the room was pretty basic. Just a standard queen size hotel bed, a dresser, TV, and a nightstand on either side of the bed - pretty much identical to the room you and Minseo reserved upstairs. An open gym bag sat on the floor, which you assumed he was using for his overnight stay.

"You said you like Marvin Gaye, right?" He typed into his phone, smiling to himself.

His song selection started playing, and you immediately recognized the first few notes as the opening to ‘Let's Get It On’. You couldn't help but laugh because of the cheesy song choice, hoping that he wasn't seriously trying to set the mood with that one. "Really? 'Let's Get It On'?"

He laughed at your critical reaction, sweet eyes crinkling at the corners. "Too forward?"

"You think?" You kicked your legs, too short to reach the floor from where you sat. "Try again."

"I'll admit, my knowledge of old school R&B is not what it should be. I'm more of an old rock fan." He scrolled through his phone in search of a better song choice.

You jumped up from the bed and strolled over to him, accidentally bumping against his arm as you plucked the phone from his hands. He felt warm and he smelled delicious, so you didn't make an effort to move away. Your brain was too fuzzy to care about personal space.

"Let me play you something. If you want sexy music, I know sexy music," you drawled, searching for the specific track that you had in mind. Hongseok slid his hands into his pockets, letting you do as you pleased. He didn't back away either, so you assumed he didn't mind the close proximity.

Finally, you found the song despite the many typos in your search: 'Tell Me Something Good' by Rufus, featuring Chaka Khan. You played it, and your hips instinctively started rolling when the funk guitar started. "Usually people think of R&B as being the sexiest music, but funk is highly overlooked and underrated."

When the vocals came in, you held his phone up to your mouth like a microphone and sang along, backing away from him to roll your body and put on a show. It briefly crossed your mind that you would never normally act that way. That was exactly the type of idiocy you were trying to avoid by dodging Hongseok earlier in the night. But at the end of the day you loved yourself some karaoke when you were drunk. You couldn't help but sing along, even if you sounded terrible.

"Hey!" Hongseok called after you with a chuckle, reaching for his phone as you danced away from him. He successfully grabbed it from you, preventing you from disconnecting it from the aux cord.

Never mind the lack of microphone; it just freed up your hands to run down your body, over your curves as you sang. "You refuse to put anything before your pride / What I got will knock all your pride aside..."

He watched you intently, a slight smirk on his lips. Maybe you didn't look as ridiculous as you thought you did. Or maybe he was just drunk enough to be into it.

You reached for his tie, pulling him towards you as you kept singing. "Tell me something good / Tell me that you love me, yeah..."

"But I hardly know you," he remarked, hands finding your hips.

With a fluttering of your eyelashes, you responded teasingly, "Oh, you don't believe in love at first sight?"

"I do," he smiled down at you, thumbs digging into your hips. "But only because I saw the way you looked at me and I knew you had fallen head over heels."

"Cocky piece of shit," you laughed, throwing your arms over Hongseok's shoulders as you danced together. "The thing is, though, you're not exactly wrong. I mean, you got me to show up here, which would have been impossible for anyone else."

"And I didn't even have to try. Look at you," Hongseok scanned your face, and you knew you must have looked like a girl in love. He was beautiful and you couldn't help your adoration. "You're in deep."

You let out a dramatic sigh. "What ever shall we do? I'm a lost cause."

"You may not be the only one."

There was something unbearably warm in his eyes as he said it, and it made your pulse race. He obviously didn't mean it; he's no more in love with you than you are with him. It was impossible that either one of you felt love for the other. It could only be blamed on lust, an inexplicable attraction between the two of you that left you weak in the knees with craving. But even so, it was fun to play pretend.

His breath gently rippled across your face. "You know, I was actually surprised to see you when I got off the elevator."

"Really?”

"It just seemed like you might talk yourself out of it."

"Well, I did. That's why I was at the stairwell," you admitted with a laugh.

Hongseok’s hands wandered over your ribs and across your back as he pulled you in closer. "Because you didn't want to see me?"

"Because you weren't there." You felt your cheeks growing warm, but you forced yourself to hold his gaze. "I was disappointed because I thought I wouldn't get to, you know, see you tonight. But I wanted to. Want to," you corrected yourself. "I do."

"I promise," he murmured, lips curling into a mischievous smile, "you won't regret it."

After class, you make an excuse to Shinhye about how you need to visit with an advisor in the building so that she would leave without you. She is completely unassuming as she accepts your excuse, and you feel a pang of guilt for lying to her. You'll make it up to her soon; you promise that much to yourself.

You easily locate Professor Yang's office, and you're surprised that you feel the familiar nervous butterflies in your stomach as you knock on the wooden door. It's so similar to the night you spent with him, even though now you're meeting under completely different circumstances.

But just like that night, the door doesn't open, and you have to wait for him to show. You lean against the wall, trying to steady your breathing and calm your racing heart. There's nothing for you to even be antsy about; you're just anxious about what he'll have to say. He'll probably just tell you exactly what you want to tell him - that you should both pretend nothing happened, and carry on as usual. Fingers crossed that you'll both be on the same page and there won't be much discussion.

As you stand there waiting, you start to ponder other possibilities. Surely he's not going to make some sort of proposition? What if he wants to sleep with you again, but this time with the risk of getting caught? He did ask you to meet him in his very private office… maybe he didn’t intend to talk at all.

He’d unlock the door and let you inside, casual as could be. But as soon as the door would shut, he’d grab you by the hand and throw you back against it, trapping you between the wood and his heat. His lips would crash into yours as if he has hungered for you since that night, his hands rushing to feel the skin that hides beneath your clothes. You’d wrap a leg around his hip, desperate to feel the friction of his bulge against your core.

You’d beg him to take you then and there: against the door, on his desk, down on the floor. As long as you could have him again, that’s all that would matter.

The thought of it makes your heart race and your mouth dry up, but you squash the fantasy before you can convince yourself that it’s a good idea. As exciting as it may be to think about, you know better this time. You're not going to sleep with him again. And if he has any sense, he'll stay the hell away from you.

Professor Yang eventually appears in the hallway, and you stand up a little straighter, hyper-aware of every inch of space between the two of you. He looked great, of course, with his collared shirt that had a single button undone at his throat and his hair swept up to the side. But you will not sleep with him.

He barely even greets you before unlocking the door and heading in first. You follow him, and he instructs you to close the door behind you. He doesn’t turn to you, doesn’t grab you or kiss you. That’s a good thing. That’s for the best.

You take a seat across from him at his desk. His office is small and scarcely decorated, with only an acoustic guitar propped up in the corner of the room. The deep mahogany finish is gorgeous, and you wonder if it’s an instrument that Professor Yang made by hand.

He relaxes back into his chair, hand covering his mouth as he looks at you. And he really looks at you, long and hard, as though he's trying to peer deep into your heart. It's incredibly nerve-wracking to be looked at in such a scrutinizing way, especially considering that he's hardly even glanced at you until now.

"What are the odds..." He mumbles quietly.

You realize that he still hasn't quite accepted the situation the two of you are in, and that makes you feel a little less alone. "I had no idea this would happen."

A line forms between his eyebrows, hand falling from his mouth. "You want me to believe that?"

You give him a similarly cynical look. "Excuse me?"

He sits up, anger evident in his piercing gaze. "You must have known! So why did you do it? Because you thought I'd give you a better grade this semester? That I'd be easier on you?"

Taken aback by his accusations, your jaw drops. "What? That's ridiculous! I would never-"

"Please, don't try to act all innocent. I can see right through it."

"I didn't know! How could-"

"Come on. You don't recognize me from any of last year's convocations? You had to have been there to hear me introduce my class."

Who the hell does this guy think he is? To sit there and accuse you of something so... so slimy and then refuse to hear you out! You won't stand for it, even if his commanding tone does send a shock of tingling adrenaline straight to your core.

He may still be the most attractive man you've ever seen, and you may still be feeling flustered by being in the same room as him... but regardless of those things, you can't let him walk all over you like this. He could do whatever he wanted to you at the hotel, but not here. This is real life, not a one night stand.

Every ounce of shyness within you disintegrates as you grit your teeth, preparing to defend yourself. "I am not that kind of girl. I am an intelligent and hard-working student, and I would never do something so disgusting.”

He starts to say something, and you rise to your feet, not yet finished. “Don't interrupt me again. I never saw you at last year’s convocations because I had to miss almost all of them for personal reasons. Those absences were all approved by the music office, if you feel so inclined to verify with them. And I don't know what on Earth makes you think this is all something that I set up - if you'll remember, I very clearly did my best to avoid you at the wedding. You were the one that approached me, not the other way around. Don't get that skewed. This is all your doing."

Professor Yang doesn't look too eager to ease up. "You were playing hard to get."

"I was trying to keep my sanity!" You lean over his desk, infuriated by the argument. "I couldn't think straight around you, you're so fucking attractive, Jesus Christ."

You cringe when you realize you've lost your filter. You did not mean to say that- not out loud, not to him.

He just sits there, quietly watching you with that same empty expression you've seen from him all week. He clenches his fist tightly around a pen, and you feel yourself deflate the longer he looks at you. But you don't sit down, telling yourself to stay strong and stand your ground.

Eventually he speaks up, and his voice is even as he says, "I think it would be best for you to drop my class."

"No."

"I urge you to reconsider."

"Absolutely not." You feel a surge of pride in yourself for standing up to him. "This is not how you do your job, Professor. You don't get to bully me out of your class just because you don't want me there. I signed up for your class and I intend to see it through to the end. And if you treat me unfairly, I will report you."

"You won't," he answers calmly, coolly challenging you.

He's right, it's an empty threat. But you stick to it. "Yes, I will."

Professor Yang sighs exasperatedly. "You won't, because if you report me for unfair treatment, then we'll both be placed under a microscope. Someone will find out about what happened between us this summer, and we'll both get in trouble. I'll lose my job and you'll be expelled."

You'll be expelled? That's news to you. The reality of the situation hits you like a punch to the gut. You can't afford to lose your status as a student here; your parents would never forgive you. They already aren't too happy about the fact that you're pursuing a degree in music. If you screw yourself over by getting expelled, that’s the end of the line for you.

He continues. "So don't think that you can blackmail me into boosting your grade or giving you special treatment, because I'm not the only one that will face severe consequences. Get that idea out of your head right now. You can't threaten me like that. Oh, and don't even think that I'll boost your grade in exchange for sexual favors. That is not going to work on me."

Your jaw drops. "Oh my God, are you even listening to me? Who do you think I am? Seriously! I'm not going to try to sleep with you for extra credit. I'm an honest student."

"I'm only covering our bases to let you know what is unacceptable." He picks at the stem of the pen’s cap, lifting it with his thumb and releasing so that it clicks in a steady rhythm that is nothing short of irritating.

“Well this could go both ways, couldn’t it?” You cross your arms over your chest. "What's going to stop you from pursuing me? What's going to keep you from lowering my grade if I refuse your advances?"

"What even makes you think I would pursue you?" He says it like he wants his words to hurt you, as if he's trying to make you feel that you're not worthy of his attention. But it's pointless; his actions have already proven otherwise.

You are so gorgeous that I might actually believe in love at first sight.

He had said that to you. It was a baseless, drunken confession, but the fact remains that he has been attracted to you once and he could be attracted to you still.

Let's be drunk and in love, then.

You had said all sorts of embarrassing things to each other, and your cheeks burn as you remember. You shift your weight, scanning his face as you force yourself to respond. "It wouldn't be the first time. And from what I remember, you enjoyed yourself an awful lot that night."

It's a long, quiet moment. You can practically see that night replaying in his mind, seductive images of you flashing in his eyes. It doesn't make you uncomfortable to know he's probably remembering every curve of your naked body; it boosts your confidence that he's been momentarily flustered by the memory of you.

The pen in his death grip falls to his desk, and he folds his hands in his lap, looking haggard. "If you choose to stay in the class, I promise that I will treat you fairly and I will not make any advances towards you. I promise that you will finish the class with an unbiased grade. However, I think you should seriously consider dropping the class, for both your sanity and mine."

For both your sanity and mine.

You can't quite tell what he means by that. Does he expect you'll continue to be at each others' throats for the rest of the semester? Or on the contrary, is he saying it might be difficult to refuse the temptation of each other if you're forced into the same classroom once a week?

Regardless of the truth behind his words, you're unwilling to budge on the matter. You calmly return to your seat, collecting your thoughts. "All due respect, but I really don't want to drop. I have a very genuine interest in your class, and I've been looking forward to it since I signed up. I don't want to sacrifice my education because of this."

"Then I will remind you that you have another two weeks to withdraw if you change your mind, and I won't bring it up again."

You both fall quiet, and you hate the feeling of regret bubbling in your stomach. You shouldn't have slept with him. You knew it was a bad idea but you went and did it anyway. And what makes it even worse is that now one of the best nights of your life is colored with regret. You want to remember that feeling of being so alive without immediately hating yourself for your poor decision making skills.

He pulls you out of your puddle of self-loathing as he asks, "Have you told anybody about this?"

You shake your head, but realize immediately that you're wrong. "Actually, my cousin knows. The one at the wedding that sort of instigated this whole thing."

"Expected. But you haven't said anything to anyone about the current situation?"

You take a deep breath. "I called that same cousin a few days ago. She knows you're my professor and everything. I just had to say something, I was going crazy."

"Is she a student here too?"

"No, she's not."

"Okay. You can't tell anyone else though, understood?"

You frown, a crease forming between your brows. "I won't, jeez. You're acting like you're the only one that has something to lose. I'm not out to get you. I'm scared, too."

He rubs his temple. "I'm sorry. I just want to make sure we're protecting ourselves."

Your ears perk up at the word sorry. So he is capable of apologizing! "An apology for earlier would be nice, too," you grumble.

"For what, exactly?"

You frown. "For falsely accusing me of setting this up."

"I don’t know for sure that those accusations are false."

"You're kidding." Your blood boils. You had no idea that you've spent all this time fawning over such a prick. "Why don't you believe me?"

"That doesn't really matter, does it? What matters is that it doesn't happen again. Understood?" He easily evades your question, raising his eyebrows inquisitively.

"Rest assured, you are safe from my relentless pursuit." You roll your eyes, voice dripping with sarcasm, and you grab your bag, ready to leave. There’s nothing else that can be done here. "I'll do my best not to unintentionally seduce you, you poor helpless thing."

"You don't have to be childish."

"You don't have to be a dick, but here we are." You resist the urge to kick his desk. You can't remember the last time you felt so frustrated. You stare each other down until you finally break away from him, turning to head for the door. Clearly he's not going to apologize, so there's no point to sticking around any longer.

"Wait, _____. One more thing."

You hate the way your whole body electrifies at the sound of your name. Screw him and the way his perfect mouth forms the damned syllables.

"I hate to ask, and maybe I don't even want to know... but how old are you?"

Frowning, you answer. "Nineteen. Turning twenty in like, two months."

"Nineteen?!"

You grip the door handle and look over your shoulder at him. "Yeah, nineteen."

"Oh my God, you're a baby." He drags his hands down his face. "Nineteen? Really?"

You ignore his baby comment; making a fuss over it would only prove his point. "How old did you think I was?"

"At least twenty-two or twenty-three. I mean, Christ, you were drinking at the wedding. I didn't realize you were underage."

"Don't say that I'm underage, that makes it sound like you screwed a teenager."

"Well technically I did. Nineteen. God dammit, shit..."

You crinkle your nose, realizing that you never really considered the age gap between the two of you. "And how old are you?"

"I'm twenty-six."

Seven years. He's seven years older than you. That's kind of a lot. "Like... just turned twenty-six?"

He nods, speechless for once, like his voice just gave up. So, closer to six-ish years. That's not... awful...

"For what it's worth, I didn't realize that I was screwing a senior citizen so-"

"Don't." He cuts you off, raising his hand in warning. "Don't do that. Don't start getting sassy, don't start joking around with me. Just don't."

Another sassy remark is readied at the tip of your tongue, but you hold back when you notice that he almost looks pained. Why does he look pained?

You let it go and turn the knob, yanking the door open. "I'll see you next week, then."

He nods, unwilling to meet your eyes, and you close the door behind you.

You stomp the whole way down State Street to the music building, steam shooting from your ears after your 'meeting' with Professor Yang.

Curse him and his stupid asshat attitude. Screw him for being devilishly handsome and for being the world's biggest dick. How could you have slept with someone like him? How could you let yourself get into this mess?

You get to the main office on the third floor, and the reception desk is regrettably empty. You peek around for a student worker, but there is no one to be found. Even the doors to the professors’ offices are closed, implying that they are away or otherwise unavailable.

Huffing, you grab a pen from the cup on the reception desk and scribble a message onto the notepad sitting there. You explain in perhaps too-colorful language that you are in desperate need of photocopies of your approved excuse cards from last spring’s convocations, and you leave your cell phone number so that you can be contacted when said photocopies are available.

The anger that clouds the corners of your vision starts to dissipate as you tuck the note under the computer mouse for the student worker to find later. You're frustrated by everything Professor Yang has said to you, and you're frustrated by the fact that even what you believe to be an easy fix is not instantaneously possible. If you can just get the damned excuse cards to him, then he would have to believe you when you say you're clueless. Right? He'd probably never admit it, but you just need to know that he knows that you're telling the truth. You can't stand being called a liar.

You pull the cell phone out of your backpack as you trudge towards the stairs. What you really need right now is to hang out with someone and distract yourself from the bullshit with Professor Dickface. You want to call Shinhye, but you know that she'll be on her way to her next class shortly. And then you think of Kino, whose phone number you snagged after rehearsal yesterday. Maybe you should see what he's up to.

You call him, only momentarily thinking it might be weird to call instead of texting. But before you have a chance to second guess, he picks up.

"Farm girl! Hi." You can barely hear him over the rush of wind, but the nickname makes you smile.

"Hey. You busy?"

"Not exactly. Why?"

"I just need to get my mind off of something and I was wondering if you might want to hang out."

"Sure! Where are you?"

"Music building. You?"

"On my way there, actually. I was going to snag a practice room to start working on some stuff for R&B ensemble. Do you want to practice with me?"

You smile, releasing a careful sigh. "Yeah, let's do that."

As you step down the last stretch of stairs, you see Kino coming through the revolving door, his hair a mess from the wind. He spots you and waves, ending the call and pocketing his phone. He meets you at the stairwell. "Hey."

"Hey." You point upstairs. "Shall we?"

Together, you head back up and wind down a hallway to find an empty practice room. Thankfully you snag one with a baby grand instead of one of the dinky upright pianos.

"So, something's bothering you?" Kino inquires, dropping his backpack onto a chair and rifling through it in search of his music.

"Yeah, but I don't really want to talk about it, if that's alright." Well, it's not that you don't want to talk about it, it's just that you can't. Well, shouldn't. Won't.

"I hear you loud and clear. We'll just make some music, and if that doesn't help you feel better, we'll go get milkshakes or something. Milkshakes make everything better." He raises his eyebrows at you as he sets his music on a stand.

You nod, sliding onto the piano bench. "That sounds great. Maybe we should get milkshakes regardless."

"Honestly, I am one-hundred percent down for a milkshake. Have you been to the ice cream shop down on Thirteenth?" He groans when you shake your head. "Okay, then it's a done deal. We have to go."

"I will not refuse." You smile, feeling lighter already.

You rehearse together for nearly an hour, and you let the music completely occupy your mind. You don’t think about Professor Douche-Cock; you don’t think about the way he infuriates you and you certainly don’t think about your still overwhelming attraction to him. For that hour, your mind and soul can breathe.

"What's on your mind?" Hongseok's voice flowed over you, a gentle creek warmed by the hot summer sun.

Humming quietly, your eyes fluttered shut and you inhaled deeply, taking in the sweet, fresh scent of him, his cologne mingling with the alcohol on his breath. "You."

"Me?"

The two of you had long since lost track of the music, swaying lazily and dancing way too close. You felt so absorbed in the grip of his hands and the solidness of his body under those damn clothes and you could no longer think straight. You needed to touch his skin, to feel his lips. His face was mere inches from yours - far too much of a temptation.

"You, your lips, your hands, your..." You trailed off with a sly grin. "I'm thinking about everything you're hiding under your tux."

"What a coincidence," he murmured, his fingertips dragging over your exposed back. "I can't stop imagining how you'll look when your dress is finally on the floor."

Your heart raced. He finally admitted to what had been implied all night - that he wanted you naked, that he would get you naked. Of course, that had been your plan all along, but hearing him verbalize it made you quiver with excitement. You needed him... you were desperate.

"When are you going to kiss me?" You couldn't stop the words before they spilled from you of their own volition. But regardless of the unwarranted sentiments, you felt a bold smile form on your lips.

Hongseok chuckled, amused. He pulled you in tighter, the tip of his nose brushing yours as he leaned in. "Wouldn't it be too easy if I just gave you what you wanted?"

"I really don't care." You touched your forehead to his, challenging him. You knew he wanted to. He had to.

His shallow breath fanned over your face as he cupped your cheek. “Neither do I."

A rush of adrenaline burst through your veins as Hongseok closed the gap, finally pressing his lips to yours. Each kiss laced with passionate desire, he held nothing back as he kissed you once, twice, a thousand times over. Your hands traveled up into his soft hair as your lips crashed into his, and he securely grabbed your waist, tugging you towards the bed.

Hongseok sat on the edge of the mattress and you eagerly climbed up onto his lap, straddling him and sighing softly when you felt his hardening length between your legs. You could tell that he had a lot to offer.

He grabbed your wrists and redirected your hands to his tie, and your mouths never separated as you worked to slide the material out from his collar. You quickly moved onto the buttons of his vest and shirt, and he reached around you to tug at the zipper of your dress, both of you completely consumed with the overwhelming need to press skin against skin. You only pulled away when you finally ripped open his shirt, wanting just a moment to take in the sight of him.

He was extremely muscular, as you had expected, and it was almost intimidating how utterly perfect his torso was. You ran your fingers over his rippled abdomen, entranced by the dips and peaks of each muscle. His skin was hot to the touch, and it sent a delicious shock through you.

"How..." You started a question, but you didn't really know where it was going. With a gorgeous face and perfect body, Hongseok was simply too good to be true. You were awestruck, your hands coming to rest on the solid curve of his pecs.

"You haven't even seen the best part yet." He rocked his hips ever so slightly, reminding you that there was even more left to reveal.

"You're so cocky," you giggled, shrugging off the straps of your dress as he peeled the fabric away. You might have been more shy about stripping if you had been sober, but your wine-induced haze made you more than ready to be rid of the damn dress.

"I think you'll find I have good reason to be." His eyes flashed and he pressed another long kiss against your lips. He tasted of bourbon and promiscuity, and you wanted all of it. You were drunk on him. All you wanted was to kiss him for all of eternity.

Hongseok's rough fingers ran along the bare skin of your sides as he pulled your dress down around your waist. With your dress half off, you felt wildly exposed, but in the best possible way. His lips separated from yours so that he could get a look at you the way you had with him.

As his eyes scanned down from your face to your chest, you couldn't help the slight blush that came to your cheeks. It was embarrassing to be looked at that way, but it was also thrilling to watch him drink you in.

"You are absolutely gorgeous. Have I told you that yet?" His eyes met yours, a sweet smile touching his lips despite the darkness of his blown-out pupils.

"Don't think you've mentioned it," you murmured, barely able to get the words out before he crashed into your lips, his hot tongue pressing past the seam. You gladly accepted it, yanking his shirt off of his shoulders and pressing yourself harder against him. His strong arms wrapped around you completely, trapping you in his heat as your tongues wrestled. The kiss was sloppy and messy, but you were too distracted by wanting him to care.

As Hongseok continued kissing you, his hand slipped between your bodies in search of your breast, carefully massaging it and running his calloused thumb over your nipple until it stood up for him. He twisted the sensitive bud between his fingers, drawing a pleasured gasp from you. You had never considered yourself to be especially sensitive to physical touch - not any more than the next person, anyway - but Hongseok threw all of your senses into overdrive, driving you wild with the simplest of touches.

You ground your pelvis against his desperately, and his lips trailed along the skin just under your jaw as he worked his way down to your breast. You arched your back to give him better access, shuddering when his teeth grazed over your neck and collarbone. How could you feel so good already?

Hongseok's mouth latched onto your breast, and he sloppily lapped at your nipple while pinching the one still in his hand. It made the room spin; you were so lightheaded with pleasure you could hardly stand it. Panting heavily, you dug your fingers into his impressively muscular back, cursing yourself for keeping your fingernails so short. He seemed like the kind of guy who might like getting scratched up.

You continued rocking your hips as his mouth moved to your other breast and his hand traced up your thigh, sneaking under the skirt of your dress. Every inch of skin he traversed felt like a mile, taking far too long to reach the juncture of your thigh and your hip. You grinned wickedly as he felt for the strap of your nonexistent underwear, his tongue even pausing its ministrations as he realized that you were, in fact, completely bare beneath your dress.

With a soft groan, he slipped his other hand under your dress, fingers splayed across the round curve of your ass. He released your nipple from his mouth and his fox eyes flashed as he focused in on your face. "You are full of surprises."

"All good, I hope." Your chest tightened as you smiled at him, and your drunk self dared to think you might be falling in love.

"Only the best," he murmured lowly before capturing your mouth in another passionate kiss, his lips embracing yours as he gave your ass a squeeze. You rocked your hips fervidly, desperate to feel some sort of relief, and he caught you off guard when he lifted you, his forearms sliding under your thighs for support. Surprised, you laughed against his mouth and held tightly onto his shoulders. Jesus, he was strong.

Hongseok stood with you in his arms, turning around so he could lay you down on the bed. His lips stayed on yours the whole way down. He hovered over you, propping himself up with one arm, his other hand running over your thigh. His callouses scratched your skin and you purred at the sensation. You wanted those hands all over you.

His knuckles tracked along your inner thigh until his fingers discovered your folds, and you felt him smirk against your lips. You were dripping just from kissing him, and you were sure he approved. Softly, he traced your folds with the pad of his finger and his thumb teased the area around your clit.

You whimpered, squirming with anticipation as he circled your sex. He was such a tease, taking his time and slowly unraveling you. And it was working; you were falling to pieces and he had hardly even touched you.

Hongseok pressed a single finger past your entrance and his mouth moved south to your neck, giving you space to moan. He nibbled at the base of your throat before sliding his tongue up the length of it. "I want to taste you," he murmured into your neck, a quiet growl in his voice.

His simple words made you clench around his finger; you would love that more than anything. Breathy, you said, "Yes, please, do whatever you want." You completely gave yourself up to him, a bundle of nervous energy electrifying your gut. Anything he wanted to do to you, you would gladly receive.

Without hesitation, Hongseok kneeled between your legs, and a chill ran through you at the absence of his heat. He looked beautiful with hair tousled from your fingers and his lips pink from your kiss. How on Earth had you ever gotten so lucky?

His eyes scanned over your body as his finger slid out of you, his hands urging your skirt further up your hips before refocusing his attention on your clit. You gasped as he made contact, your legs jerking at the jolt of pleasure.

A smirk fell on his lips as he toyed with your most sensitive spot. “You are so hot, oh my God…”

You weren’t really sure if you should respond - or if you were even capable of responding - but Hongseok’s lips were suddenly on your folds and your mind went completely blank. His tongue prodded at your entrance before working its way up to your clit, and when he started sucking you swore you were blinded with pleasure.

You fought the immediate tension that coursed through you, not wanting to get wound up too quickly and end it too soon. This was a once-in-a-lifetime experience, and you were convinced you’d never again find someone as gorgeous and fucking amazing at oral as Hongseok. You had to enjoy it.

Hongseok massaged your folds as he continued eating you out, and you couldn’t help but pinch your nipples, amplifying the ripples he sent throughout your body, careful not to take it too far. You whined as you twisted them and he lapped at your clitoris, his finger sliding inside of you once more. You were filled with sensation, and nothing could have been more perfect.

“That’s… aa-aahhh… ohh…” You tried desperately to encourage him, but words were difficult to come by. But he must have understood; he kept up with that same tongue pattern, stroking two fingers carefully against your walls. Sooner than anticipated, he brought you right to the edge. “Hong… Hongseok, yes… plea-oh…”

He didn’t change his pace, didn’t change pressure. He just continued in exactly the same manner until you broke, a series of short, squeak-like moans coming from you as an incredibly powerful orgasm washed over you. He pressed a flat tongue against your clit as you climaxed; you felt so full and warm and beautiful.

When your pulse was no longer racing he released you, and you hummed quietly. You eyed him as he stood, his chin and chest wet with your arousal and his erection straining against his pants: an absolute Adonis if you’d ever seen one.

You were speechless, grinning up at him like a fool. Everything felt so good. How could a human make you feel that way? He might have actually been a god.

Hongseok helped you sit up, and lifted the dress up over your head so you were fully in the nude. Wiping at his chin, he smirked and then reached for his belt buckle. “I hope you’re not too tired. After all, we’re just getting started.”

Post Script | Thank you for reading! Part 3 will be posted Saturday at 8pm.

Update | Read Part 3 here!

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THIS IS REPOSTED FROM MY ORIGINAL BLOG, GWENTORY. All future content (including HFT Part 4 and onwards) will only be posted on GWENTORYFICS. Thank you!

[our-jensen-ackles-love]

Flashes; Chapter Four

Playboy Jensen Ackles is hurting his television show’s image. Every time he promised to get his act together, it’d last for about a week before pictures emerge of him half-drunk with some broad on his arm. Fed up and desperate, his agent decides their only hope to save some face is to write up a contract with a nobody girl who could use the money while getting to play the role of Jensen’s girlfriend.

It was only for a year and it was only for the photos.  But feelings don’t always follow the rules, do they?

CATCH UP HERE

Word Count: 1886

Chapter Warnings: just kinda filler fluff

FEEDBACK IS AMAZING. AND REALLY KEEPS ME GOING!

Chapter Four

Last Week

A half-drunk bottle of wine, the second season of Supernatural playing in the background and several small towers of Home Depot boxes surrounding your coffee table. That was the atmosphere you were dealing with right now.

“You’re joking right?” Olivia asked for probably the millionth time of that evening.

“No,” you shook your head, pulling the packing tape closer to you as you finished up one of the last boxes of your clothes. “I leave Sunday morning to Vancouver.”

“For a year?” This time it was Briana who asked the question while gingerly sipping her only glass of wine for the night. “Like legit a whole year.”

You nodded slowly, trying not to over think the situation you had just gotten yourself into. “That’s where Jensen wants me to be.”

“But didn’t you guys just start dating?”

You sighed knowing that you could only tell them what Henry had said. They were not allowed to know that you had signed a yearlong contract to basically act out the role of Jensen’s girlfriend, if at any point you let that little piece of information slip, you could be sued and basically left out to dry as a gold digging whore who once hooked up with one of the most sought after bachelors’ in Hollywood today.

“Actually,” you started, remembering the lines that you had been practicing in the mirror all morning while you waited for your friends to arrive. “We’ve been dating for a couple weeks, but didn’t want to come out to the world just yet.”

Janet twirled around in your favorite desk chair. “So why the sudden change?”

You shrugged, avoiding all eye contact as best as you could without looking wary. “The paparazzi caught up to us on my birthday last week and we just decided it would be best to let the cat out of the bag that way.”

--

Present Day

It was nearly impossible to get comfortable in your seat. Despite being flown in first class, something you had never been able to do in the past, you were unable to properly relax for the majority of your six hour flight. And now that the pilot had announced that you would be landing in the next thirty minutes, your stomach was in knots.

“You’re going to be okay,” you whispered to yourself, hoping that no one could hear you trying to talk through your anxiety. “You did this for the better.”

It wasn’t a lie. The money that Jensen’s agency had offered you at the end of this contract was enough to make anyone leave their life behind in an instant. But what was going to make this difficult was the acting like you actually liked the man; his attitude towards you was really making you question just how many women he had been with. He treated you almost like you were just another notch on the bedpost.

And from the quick google search you had sworn that you wouldn’t do at the airport, it showed that he had, in fact, been with several random women all throughout the last couple of years. All of them seemed to be random and from the countless articles you could barely stomach to skim, it seemed that they all were just girls that he had brought home from whatever bar, in whatever city Jensen had been in that night.  

Henry had explained that due to the importance of Jensen keeping his role in the show, a show that had threatened, the last three times, that if he didn’t get his act together they would drop him like a hot potato; they needed to keep him in a straight line. Apparently, he had been threatened with this agreement the last time this happened; which according to one tabloid article that was only two months ago.

Again, you had a million questions as to why he picked you up that night at the bar, especially if he knew that this contract agreement would come into play if pictures got out.

“Alright, ladies and gentlemen,” the pilot’s velvety voice came through the speaker above your head. “We are beginning our descent into the beautiful Vancouver, Canada. So please, turn off all electronic devices and place your seat and trays into the upright position.”

You closed your eyes and took several deep breaths while you felt the slow drop of the plane. The deep breaths were supposed to calm your nerves, but they were only reminding you of what you had gotten yourself into because of too much tequila.

The landing had been smooth, probably one of the perks of being able to pay for an expensive, all-inclusive flight, was that you couldn’t ask for a better crew to be aboard your plane. Henry had paid to have all of your belongings shipped to Jensen’s Vancouver apartment, so all you had to do was grab your carry-on bag and exited as needed. When you followed the signs in the airport towards where the pick-up/drop off parking was, you were met with another loud bunch of flashing camera lights and aggressive loud questions.

“What are you doing in Vancouver?”

“How long have you and Jensen been dating?”

“Do you think this could led somewhere long term?”

“Y/N, Y/N, is that a baby bump we see hiding under that t-shirt?”

You held up your hand, remembering Henry and Jensen reminding you that, you were, under no circumstances allowed to speak to anyone about your relationship without him present. Just supposed to smile at and wave when needed – although the comment about the baby bump made you want to flip them the bird and offer some choice words.

A familiar black SUV came into view from behind the blinding lights that kept following your pathway. Just as the vehicle came into your sights, you saw the familiar face of Cliff come around the car and open the door for you, ushering you in quickly and sealing you off from the vultures of your new world.

Cliff hopped back into the driver’s seat, shifting the car into drive. “How was the flight, Y/N?”

Stealing a glance at the crowd you were leaving behind, you let out a breath you didn’t know that you had been holding. “It was long, probably the longest flight I’ve ever been on.”

You heard Cliff laugh a bit. “Just wait until Christmas comes around in the two months, the two of you will be flying down to Austin.”

“You don’t think I’ll have to meet his family, do you?” You blurted out.

Catching a glimpse of Cliff’s concerned look in the rearview mirror was really all the answer you needed. “I would say so, and he’s probably going to have to meet yours.”

The remainder of your car ride had been silent. Well, silent to anyone who wasn’t allowed in your head because on the inside you were dealing with every emotion that was able to pass through one’s body at once. You had told your mother that you were “dating” someone, which of course had gotten her all kinds of excited, but you were hoping that you could get through this year by keeping her in the dark.

She wasn’t the type of person who read the news, she didn’t watch tv and she never left the house unless it was needed. She grew her own vegetables and believed that anything that you could pick up at a store was much more attenable when you made it yourself. To this day, you still remember the fit she threw when you said you were moving to New York City to focus on becoming a writer.

“Miss Y/L/N, we are here,” Cliff had said quietly. You could feel that he felt somewhat sorry for you and the situation that you had found yourself in. “Jensen should be waiting inside for you.”

You nodded, grabbing your bag that you had thrown to your side before opening the door carefully. Thankfully, there didn’t appear to be any lurkers in this neck of the woods, but you were pretty sure that you saw a gate wrapping around these apartment complexes and what you could only assume was a security guard checking people in.

“Thank you Cliff.”

“I’ll be seeing you around.”

Shutting the door, you turned around and faced your new, temporary home. The apartment that Jensen was living out of was a split floor building, with two apartments on the top floor and two apartments on the bottom floor. It didn’t seem to compare much to his New York flat, but you figured that since he was only in Vancouver for filming purposes, this place was nothing other than a roof over his head.

236 was the number of the apartment. As you closed in, you took another deep breath, bringing your hand up and giving a quick knock. Jensen threw open the door quickly, holding it open just enough that you could squeeze by.

“Good flight?” He asked, turning his back to you and wandering into the open kitchen as the door clicked shut behind you. You couldn’t help, but noticed there was an open bottle of scotch on the counter and half-drunk cup sitting next to it.

“Can’t complain.”

He nodded, adverting his eyes towards his glass and then back to you. “Uh, do you want a drink?”

“I think I should probably get a little settled first, don’t you?”

Acknowledging your answer, he placed his glass back down on the counter and walked towards you. “Your room is right down the hall,” Jensen said, walking in the direction of one of the three doors along the wall. “This place only has one bathroom, so we are going to have to share.”

“I’ve had roommates before Jensen,” you stated, squeezing past him and opening the door he was in front of. Before you was a queen sized bed on a black wooden frame and looking bare without any sheets, a dark wooden dresser with a matching vanity mirror placed directly behind it and the room was littered with your boxes that had probably arrived just a few days before you. “You just have to promise not to hog all the hot water.”

He smirked at you, something that he always seemed to do when you knew he wasn’t taking you seriously. Despite not knowing him long, you were slowly picking up on his tells. “Can’t make any promises when it’s fighting day. That fake blood is a bitch to take off.”

You gave a small laugh, not quite sure where to go from here. This was all still feeling like some made up dream your imagination had procured to help get rid of that pesky writers block, but you knew that it wasn’t the case. You had spent most of the last week pinching yourself every so often in an effort to try and wake up.

Jensen shifted his weight on his feet before clearing his throat. “Well, I’ll let you get settled. Come find me when you are ready for that drink.”

With that, he closed your door, leaving you alone to get your life as organized as you could get it. But all you could think about was the fact that drinking was what got you in this position to begin with.

TAGS: @supernatural-bellawinchester @luciathewinchestergirl @supernatural-teamfreewillpage @nanie5 @kbl1313 @wanderer-08 @squirrelnotsam (never lets me tag you :( ) @allonsy-yesiwill @mirandaaustin93 @jerkbitchidjitassbutt

[marisbugs]

dare you (to let me go) | part 4

Arthur Shelby x Reader

Summary: It was just a game you’d been playing for years to no end. After all, you knew each other since forever – since, as you usually said, you happened to be dumb enough not to run away when you had the chance and got stuck with the Shelby family.  

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Timeline: season 1 – 2-ish.

Word Count: 6,218.

Warnings: Language.

A/N: I’ve been struggling with this for so long, I don’t know what’s right or wrong anymore. Plus, I was finishing it while my head was splitting into million tiny pieces, so I’d really appreciate if you give feedback to let me know it doesn’t suck too much. (It’s okay if it does.)

After the purchase of the Garrison, Arthur was in high spirits mostly, even though he still struggled to understand what his place in the family was, with Tommy taking charge of everything and him following his orders, just like in the war. Sometimes it felt that they had never really come back. It was partially true for they were clearly not the same men who left England five years ago, but it was all right: it was impossible to see what they saw, to do what needed to be done and stayed the same; they had to become somebody else to survive. Their old selves died in the mud of France.

The change wasn’t what was bothering him, not in that sense. He could go for days without thinking about it or remembering things that’d better remain forgotten. It was the feeling of disconnection from reality that derived from his ignorance of simple things that were taking place around him which was troubling him most. He was supposed to be aware of things. He was supposed to know the answers to the questions people had been asking him, but all he could give them was a blank stare and an incoherent mumble. He hated to be kept out of the loop.

He didn’t hate Tommy, though. He had been angry with him more often than not lately, but he couldn’t hate him, even if he wanted to. They were brothers in more ways than one, and they would always have each other’s back, just like they always did. It didn’t mean, however, that he had to like everything Tommy was doing, intended to do or had already done without any kind of family council. Frankly, it was frustrating.

That was why he liked spending his time at the Garrison: apart from free booze and despite occasional headaches caused by accounting, he knew exactly what his place was there. He, for once, was the boss; no one questioned his authority. As for other things, such as him being terrible with numbers, he could always ask Grace to check the books after him and rely on you to help him manage the pub’s finances. Yeah, that wasn’t the part that worried him, not at all.

Carelessly throwing his cap onto the desk, Arthur dampened his handkerchief with some liquor he had taken from a bottom compartment of his desk and put it to a newly received cut on his cheek. A stinging burning of the alcohol was, in fact, rather satisfying. It meant a deed well done.

He flopped down on his chair and pulled off his bow tie as the excitement of a fight gradually gave place to tiredness and exhaustion. Pulling out the upper drawer, he scooped out a couple of humbugs he didn’t remember putting there but somehow knew he would find. It was a hunch based on the previous experience of sharing a workplace with you. He was about to slide it back in when something at the bottom of the drawer drew his attention. Reaching inside, he already knew what it was for he had spent enough time looking at it for every detail to become imprinted on his mind forever.

It was a photo – a family portrait of sorts – taken shortly before their enlistment. The women were sitting while the men were standing behind them: John’s hands on the back of Martha’s chair, his very pregnant wife looking up at him over her shoulder, a wide smile on both their faces – it seemed that John had just cracked some kind of an inside joke understood only by the two of them; closer to the center was Polly with Finn on her lap; then there was Ada who had become quite a flapper by the time she turned eighteen if a fashionable haircut and the fact that she was staring at the camera with a touch of affected boredom, which made her look a bit arrogant and faintly aloof, were any indications; somewhere in between behind Polly and her, Tommy was standing, with a smile which now was almost a foreign sight on his face; then there was he himself – younger still, with yet no moustache and fewer wrinkles and fine lines, his pocket watch chain freshly polished, although it was impossible to tell because the picture was in sepia. In the span of four years that photo had been connecting him with the world beyond the front lines, he had got so acquainted with it that he could easily reproduce it in his mind eye when he didn’t have the opportunity to take a look at the original which now had some serious scratches right in the middle where it used to be folded to fit into the chest pocket of his uniform.

He let his eyes run over the image and fix on you. It took some convincing to get you to take part as you kept insisting that you didn’t wish to ruin a family portrait. He vaguely remembered that in the end you had made two shots, but the one without you, weirdly enough, had never come to see the light of day. He was glad it hadn’t; he wouldn’t have asked for a picture to take with him, yet he had wanted to have it as something to remember you by. A family photo was a safe, convenient option. It was a nice one as well. You looked off guard and excited, even though your eyes were cast slightly to the side as if there was something worth your undivided attention behind the camera.

He poured himself a glass of whiskey and, after downing it in one gulp, leaned back in his chair, locking his fingers over his ribs. The photo kept staring at him from where he had placed it on the table a few moments before. Its silent demand was unsettling.

Staring into space, he saw the things that had happened intertwine with those that could have. He remembered watching you prep chicken hearts to be cooked as you were standing in front of the kitchen sink while he was sitting at the table, wondering if it was the right time to break the news to you. The boys and he got their call-ups that morning, and sooner or later you were going to find out. You knew it was coming. Everybody did. Didn’t make it easier, though. He knew there was nothing he could do, but the idea of leaving Polly, Ada and you behind and alone didn’t sit right with him.

You turned your head to him, flashing him a smile that meant that you had made a witty comment you’d like him to appreciate, but it was lost on him shamefully for, distracted by his thoughts, he hadn’t been listening at the moment. He did his best to cover up his absence of mind and seemed to succeed at that since you returned to doing what you were doing without saying anything or sending a quizzical stare his way. He went back to question whether he should tell you the truth – and not just about the call-up. There was something else on his mind, something he didn’t like to dwell on for too long, scared to figure out what exactly it meant for you or him, but a very real possibility of not seeing you ever again was threatening to upset the apple cart. You squeezed a tiny heart somewhat fierce, forcing out a clot of blood. No, he decided, it was better to let things run its natural course. It would only make you laugh anyway. It was your common reaction to all his advances – some more upfront than the others: knowing him to be quite fond of ladies in general, you didn’t take them at face value. He did like to hear you laugh, however not when it was directed at him. So he didn’t say anything – for his ego’s sake.

Nor did he mention any of that later, when all you female lot were seeing them off at the station. With all the people gathered together – talking, hugging, crying, wishing to seize the last seconds with their loved ones, – the process became quite an ordeal. He anticipated a deafening whistle of an incoming train with apprehension – you all did, he could guess, but tried not to let it show.

He looked over his shoulder, wondering what was taking John so long. With Martha had given birth recently and therefore not being able to accompany you to the station, John had said that he would catch up with you later, after bidding farewell to his family. Arthur reckoned they didn’t have long before departure, so John boy had better hurry up if he didn’t wish to straggle before he had even got to his unit. As they exchanged concerned glances, the look on Tommy’s face told him that he was thinking something along those lines as well.

Ever so cheerful, John had run onto the platform right before the train arrived, earning pats on his neck and shoulders from his brothers and an encouraging smile from Polly. With a huge cloud of white steam surrounding the locomotive, it stopped right there, giving out a dissatisfied puff. The arrival of the train threw the station into disarray as everyone felt time slipping through their fingers with an incredible velocity.

After hugs and kisses on the cheeks from Polly and Ada, he, at last, came face to face with you. It was the time to say goodbye, but he didn’t feel like it – it seemed wrong somehow. So instead he said:

“We’ll be home before Christmas. You won’t even miss us.”

“Actually, I’ve been planning on getting some rest from the lot of you, so don’t count on me weeping in the corner,” you replied with a cheeky grin.

You were quite good at faking it, putting on a brave face, but your demeanour changed within a second as you threw your arms around his neck, burying your head into his chest. He hugged you tightly and kissed you on the top of the head, the scent of your hair making his heart pound faster. It could be a perfect moment, but perfection wasn’t what life had in store for him. He had to let you go.

“Before Christmas?” You looked up at him with wide eyes – hoping, demanding. You had moved away a bit, but your hands lingered on the back of his neck.

“Before Christmas,” he confirmed, feeling shivers up and down his spine. “I promise.”

“Good,” you nodded. You didn’t tell you were going to wait. It was unnecessary, yet a part of him hoped you would. He didn’t ask.

“All right, boys,” you both heard Polly say in a voice that sounded untypically unsteady, “come on now. Off you go. The bloody train is almost leaving.”

A moment later the six of you were wrapped in a huge, awkward embrace. Then they boarded the train, which, with a puff of steam and a loud whistle, chugged out of the station, and were gone.

After that, when the times came when Arthur thought he just might not make it, he reminded himself that he had a promise to keep. And so, he stubbornly marched on as the war had become far more prolonged than anyone could have anticipated.

It was a frosty, gray day in late November, 1918, when he finally walked through the wicket gate to the house you used to live in at the time, not having yet moved away to smaller lodgings – later you confessed that your old house felt too big and empty with you as the only resident; it was needless to say that it also brought back too many memories now tainted with grief and loss. The boys and he had arrived just that morning – they were among the lucky ones who had been demobilised right after the armistice; some of the troops were still waiting for orders and transports, and a part of the forces were stuck in Russia with still no end in sight. While Tommy and John headed straight home, he decided to pay you a quick, surprise visit. Despite the ever-present feeling of being cold, tired and hungry, which was taking its time to subside before it could vanish completely, his head was buzzing with excitement that was typical of those who had been deprived of sleep for far too long and overall resembled the kind of psychotic state which prevailed in the trenches while going over the top.

You were coming out of the back yard with a pile of logs for firewood in your arms when the creak of the gate announced his presence, prompting you to cast a startled glance in his direction, the sight stopping you dead in your tracks. You didn’t move, and the lack of expression on your blank face scared him for a minute. Had he caught you off guard? Were you angry? Had he changed so much you didn’t recognise him? It had been long since he took a good look at himself in the mirror. And who was to say you hadn’t changed as well? Suddenly he felt desperate to find some kind of reassurance that you hadn’t drifted apart, that, despite everything, you hadn’t become merely strangers who were only bound together by the long-forgotten memories of the distant past.

After what seemed like an eternity, a radiant smile lit up your face, and he heard the logs tumble down with a series of heavy thuds as you dumped them to the ground; having regained the control of your faculties, you ran up to him and jumped into his embrace, wrapping your arms around his neck just like you did back then at the station as his own encircled your tinier frame.

“You’re back,” you whispered somewhere below his ear, and, for the first time in a long while, he smiled genuinely as the realisation that he was home at last dawned on him suddenly and without a warning.

“We are,” he said, tightening his grip on you, although there was still a tiny bit of doubt at the back of his mind. “All of us. We’re back.” It sounded too good to be true. Maybe he was really dead, but then again, it was quite unlikely that he would end up in heaven, thus he didn’t have a plausible enough explanation for you being there. “Told you we’ll get home before Christmas.”

At that, a soft choked sob escaped from your lips.

“You took your bloody time all right,” you mumbled grumpily, which turned his smile into a full-blown grin. It was real. He was back.

Lifting you off the ground, he twirled you around, and as you threw your head back with laughter, only then did he realise how much he had missed the sound of it. Now he wouldn’t even mind if you laughed at him as long as he was there to hear it. He felt you tremble slightly in his arms, and for a second he thought that you might be crying, but when you looked at him, there were no tear traces down your cheeks and your eyes were shining brightly.

“That’s something new.” You pointed at his moustache, with a smirk. “Took me a minute to realise it was you underneath.”

“It grows on you after a while.” He chuckled lowly, shaking his head. “But you did look like you’d seen a ghost.”

“That was what I thought, too,” you said as your face darkened and your brows knitted together in a frown of concern. “It’s been four years, Arthur.”

Four years of stab wounds, gunshots, gas attacks, trench fever, madness, starvation. Betting on when the enemy attacked, dreaming about home, slowly forgetting what life was like before, trying to make up for lost time, spending his leaves drinking with women of easy virtue, wondering whether he was the next who wouldn’t come out of the trench by the end of the shelling. Four lifetimes.  

“Yeah, I know.”

You silently searched his face for a moment before he noticed a sudden thought flash through your mind; it was in your eyes – like a match had been lit in the dark. Crumpling the ends of your sleeves by pulling them down over your hands, you sent him a small, almost apologetic smile.

“Oh Arthur,” you said warmly. “Happy birthday.”

He simply stared at you, not comprehending, and could only guess that he looked totally bewildered. Was it really today? He didn’t remember; things like that didn’t matter when one was either glad to see the light of the following day or wished to die and put an end to it all. But he wasn’t there anymore, was he? He was back to the world where life wasn’t reduced to mere survival. It felt strange and, honestly, so overwhelming he could easily get lost in the emotion.

The soft touch of your lips to his cheek brought him back to reality. His old feelings washed over him like a tidal wave, but he knew if he brought it up right now, you would just think that he got too excited, too caught up in the moment. So he gave your arms a gentle squeeze of appreciation and moved to help you with that firewood. As usual, he let his actions, rather than words, speak for themselves. Maybe one day you would see them for what they were. But if you didn’t, well, it would be fine too.

Now, reflecting on it a year later, he reckoned he must have been doing something wrong all along. He did keep his promise in the end, although, with a four-year delay, it felt more like he didn’t. You hadn’t mention it in your letters, but he knew he had disappointed you and only hoped that you would understand that John needed to come back home more than any of them, so that was why they would have sent him in their place whenever the opportunity presented itself, which wasn’t very often per se.

He had intended to make it up to you when he was back, but then there were women, drinking, and the Peaky Blinders business. He had never been so much contemplating as living in the moment, and the need to feel became even more intense ever since he had got back from the war. Though things were steadily improving in terms of prosperity, he was slowly discovering the parts of himself he wasn’t sure how to control. Trying to blot out the waste of the past, he got caught up in things in the present. Once again, he failed you. And though Tommy insisted that he had made it easy for Arthur by taking all the strategic thinking upon himself, even his mastermind brother couldn’t help him out of that particular one.

That was part of the reason why he had offered you a half of the pub. He seemed to have finally found a way to give you the kind of stability you needed that you might actually accept without putting up too much of a fight for your freedom. So there was that, and also the fact that the idea of having you as a partner appealed to him: you were smart and good with numbers, he trusted you and liked keeping you close, having been looking out for you since he could remember.

Everything seemed to be falling into place, except for that one time you almost kissed him. Perhaps it was wishful thinking, but he could swear you almost did. It was the ‘almost’ part that bugged him, that stared at him from that photograph, daring him to finally do something about it.

To shake off a creeping feeling of spineless impotence, he stood up and poured himself another glass of whiskey, savouring its smoky, peated taste.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” John, merry as always, barged into the room, finally having noticed his brother’s long-drawn absence. He leaned on the door, letting in a babble of noise from the packed hall of the pub. “Honestly, like a fucking recluse. What the hell, we’ve done our bloody part, now come on and fucking celebrate.” He then gave Arthur a suspicious look; his eyes had a slight squint to them already. “It’s not the blues again, is it?”

“No,” Arthur said, licking the last drops of whiskey off his lips. “It’s not the blues. I’ll be out in a minute.”

John shrugged, seemingly set at rest by his brother’s reassurances, and went back to the hall, leaving the door halfway open. If there was something else on his mind, he didn’t bother to share it.

Putting the glass back on the desk, Arthur ran his hands through his hair to smooth it, then put the photo back in the drawer without as much as a second glance.

“I’m a living man,” he murmured, exhaling deeply. It was partially an excuse he saved for the times he felt like reproving himself for being fickle; it was also a reminder.

He flung the door open and strode into the crowded hall, his spirit immediately revived by its vibrant, raucous energy.

“All right, boys, the next round is on the house! Let’s fucking celebrate!”

△ ▽

The gray sky and a constant, thick drizzle did little to cheer up Arthur, whose head was foggy after last night’s partying activities. He didn’t remember much of it but had a pretty good guess how it went. How it always went. He snuffled and put the collar of his coat up to prevent cold water drops from travelling down his neck and spine. He didn’t like rain; it made everything bleak, sad and lifeless – much like he felt on the inside on his worst days. Witnessing the same on the outside seemed like overkill, which, for an Englishman, was quite a predicament.

When he reached his destination, he suddenly became self-conscious about his decision. Coming under the roof to hide from the rain, he stopped on the porch to think it over for what seemed like a hundredth time only that morning. Maybe it wasn’t the best idea to spring it on you after all those years of silence. He couldn’t say he didn’t appreciate the way things were between you now. He didn’t want to disrupt the balance. To say he didn’t wish to know what it could be like, however, would be, at best, a half-truth. Maybe he needed to wait until his head was clear to have this conversation, but then again, he couldn’t remember the last time it truly was.

“No time like the present,” he muttered under his breath ironically, mimicking Polly’s tone, and reached for the door. When you didn’t answer right away, he felt like a condemned to death whose execution was delayed in a twisted manifestation of mercy. On the other hand, a more rational part of him knew he probably wouldn’t be able to go on like this for too long. He needed to know where you stand. Now more than ever, he needed clarity. He needed answers.

He knocked louder, his hand left hanging in the air in a mid-knock, as the door swung open, revealing a somewhat frustrated you.

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t realise it was you.” The corners of your mouth turned upwards slightly; otherwise, you looked preoccupied and displeased by the interruption. He wondered if it indeed was not the right time after all. “Come on in,” you invited, stepping away to give him some space, shutting the door behind him as he entered. “Nice battle scar.” You imitated a cut with a gesture, sweeping your eyes over him scrutinizingly. “Ever considered healing properly before getting new ones?”

He laughed lowly, his hand flew to his face unconsciously to trace it; it reminded him of the way you did it the other day, the light touch of your fingers to his skin.

“Just a scratch from the Lee boys, luv.” The thought of yesterday’s success at the races brought a triumphant smirk to his lips as he shook his cap and took off his damp coat before putting them onto the coat stand. “You should see the other guy.”

“That’s what you always say.” You chuckled, compressing your lips. “So I take it, your war is in full spate then.”

“They got what had been coming for them for a long time.” He shrugged absent-mindedly. “For a long fucking time… Wait.” Coming further inside, he sniffed the air to confirm his suspicion, his voice echoing slightly off the walls. “Are you fucking baking? What the hell has happened?”

However innocent a task it may seem, baking never was a good sign with you. You said it helped you to find peace of mind, but since you weren’t fond of wasting food, you turned to it only when pushed too far, so whatever it was, it must have stressed you out a great deal.

“Nothing,” you said as you tried to shrug it off. “I just was in the mood.”

Your nonchalant tone didn’t make him buy into it, though.

“You’re never just in the mood for baking,” he pointed out, turning round to face you, “because you fucking hate it. The only reason you do it is so that you can pretend that you crack, beat and cut the person who wronged you.”

You blinked, with your lips parted.

“I hate it that you know enough about baking to be able to come up with the analogy,” you sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. “I even more hate that you know enough about me…”

“Don’t evade the fucking question.”

The more you danced around it, the more he didn’t like what he was eventually going to hear. This was definitely not the way he had imagined things would go today, but it sure as hell was a damn good distraction from a steadily growing pounding in his head and ears.

“All right,” you gave in, with a huff and an eye-roll. “Will you at least sit down?”

He plumped himself down on the couch, staring at you expectantly to let you know you weren’t getting out of it easily. You stared right back at him and took a seat on the chair as if trying to keep your distance. Then you drew a long, deep breath before lighting up a cigarette and heavily drawing on it instead.

“Just fucking spill it already,” he growled, tapping his foot impatiently against the carpeted floor. There were plenty of possible scenarios in his head, and he didn’t like any of them, so he guessed that the truth couldn’t possibly be any worse than his imagination.

He checked his pockets for a smoke but, with a grunt, remembered that he had left it in his coat. You lightly pushed your cigarette case towards him across the table with a box of matches on the top of it and leaned forward, elbows on your knees, eyes cast down.

“It’s your sister.” And there was the shell. “I think I may have put her and Freddie in danger. I didn’t mean to, obviously-”

His hand was frozen in half-motion until the flames moved further from the head of the match and licked his fingers; then he put it out and took a drag of the cigarette.

“You saw Ada?” He tried to keep his voice devoid of emotion as well as he could but it wasn’t his strongest hand to play. You knew how much it meant to him, yet hadn’t told him nonetheless. You were hiding things from him – just like everybody else. He couldn’t help feeling that you had betrayed him.

You raised your eyes but not your head; the look you gave him from under your brows was both sympathetic and disapproving, and he wondered how on earth you even managed to do that.  

“Yes. But whatever you have to say, you can save it for later because this is really not what you should be worried about right now.”

“And what is?” he enquired rather sardonically. Whatever danger you were speaking about, he surely could deal with it better than with the fact that you were keeping him in the dark. Granted, he was doing the same, but that was about business, not family. There lay the difference, and he thought you knew it. Apparently, he was wrong.

You straightened up in your seat, letting out a plume of smoke from your lungs as you tapped ashes from the cigarette into the ashtray on the table.

“I had a nice, little chat with the inspector afterwards,” you said without so much as a sideway glance at him. “He made it rather clear that he’s not letting any of us off the hook any time in the near future.”

“You talked to that copper again?” Arthur could feel the anger swelling up and beginning to throb through his veins. He needed a drink or two – or maybe seven or eight. He also needed to punch something, but settled for stabbing his cigarette out in the ashtray for the time being.

You shot him a defiant glare.

“It’s not like I was dying to have that conversation. Or this one for that matter.” You breathed out in frustration, trying to calm yourself, but it was only partially successful. “The point is, he made it sound like he might have had me followed, and if it’s the case, then he now knows where the Thornes live, and I’m too paranoid to warn them.” You laughed all of a sudden, shaking your head defeatedly, and for a moment he thought that maybe you had been worrying so much you went a bit mental. “And I’ve been accusing Freddie of being overly suspicious. Fuck, this is twisted.”

“All right,” he said, running his hands through his hair to collect his thoughts, although nothing seemed to be ‘right’ about this situation. “So you’re saying that we need to pass along a message to them. That can be done. All I need is the address, so we can send the boys round-”

“No.”

He jerked up his head, giving you a blank stare.

“The fuck does that mean?”

“It means a fucking no,” you snapped. “I’m not telling you the address. Your sister doesn’t want you or any Peaky boys anywhere near her family – for now, at least.”

Her family? You couldn’t possibly be serious. He was barely holding himself together as it was, and you were really pushing it.

“But she’s all right with coppers, aye? Is that it?” he snarled, clenching and unclenching his fists, clasping hands together.

Inhaling deeply and exhaling slowly, you regained your composure to speak as calmly and reasonably as you could.

“It isn’t. That’s why you’re going to ask Polly to see to it. She’ll know what to do. Just… no muscling your way through is all I ask. It will mess up an already messed up situation.”

Then you both sat there, and while he was contemplating your words, the only thing moving was the dancing smoke from your dying cigarette and the only sound heard was the shallow breathing.

“If you’d, for once, just fucking listened…” His voice was muffled by the hands covering his face; he had already accepted his defeat and was now just venting out his irritation. “How many times have I told you not to get mixed up in the Blinders business?” He peeked at you from behind his fingers when you didn’t answer, then removed the hands altogether, staring at you reproachfully. “How many?”

“Yeah, you were very explicit on multiple occasions,” you replied distractedly, pushing the ashes in the ashtray around with the stub. “You, Tommy, everyone. Every fucking man thinks he knows better, be he the thickest-” You broke off abruptly, jerking up your head in sudden alarm. “Fuck! It’s burning!”

You darted out of the room and into the kitchen, hoping to save what still was possible to save, nearly getting burnt yourself in a rush while taking the baking tray out of the oven.

“Fuck it,” you breathed out repeatedly, dropping the tray on the top of the cooker with a loud clang, and slapped your forehead. “I fucking hate baking.”  

Arthur, who followed you to the kitchen after you had sped off in evident panic, was now leaning against the door frame silently; he would not ever admit it, but watching you, usually so tough, and fierce, and collected, being thrown in distress by simple domestic chores was rather amusing.

“Looks not that bad,” he said, fighting hard to suppress a laugh, while you were picking out biscuits that hadn’t been spoiled completely.

“Shut up or I’ll have you eat all of them,” you warned him, jerking your hand off of a particularly hot one with a hiss of pain. The best idea probably was to wait till they got cold, but he was not about to give you this piece of advice, considering your belligerent mood. He did not, in fact, wish to taste any of your angry baking creations. He was not that suicidal.

He was, however, genuinely willing to make you feel better.

“Well, on the bright side, you’ve just fried that copper.” He pointed at the tray with loads of burnt biscuits on it, smiling mischievously. “So be a little prouder, will ya?”

“I’ve wasted a whole lot of food, is all I’ve done,” you grumbled irritably, dusting the crumbs from your hands. You looked at him, then at the mess on the tray, then at him again – and laughed out loud, the stress and the tension washing away bit by bit. “You really got carried away with that thing, you know.” You shook your head and then slightly bit your lip in deliberation. “Is it awful that I actually like to imagine that it’s him?”

“I doubt I’m the one you should ask.” He chuckled, coming over, poking at the biscuits which looked more like coals, out of childish curiosity. “Because when it comes to family, well… I don’t think it’s awful. I think it just means you care.”

You tilted your head in a way that reminded him of a confused puppy, but there was understanding in your eyes – understanding and regret.

“I don’t like that it should be like this,” you said, tucking a stray lock of hair behind your ear. “But I gave my word that I wouldn’t tell anyone.”

“Yeah, well, you’re good for keeping it then.” Granted, he was aggrieved by the fact, but he supposed he still owed you one for making a promise he couldn’t keep.

You sent him a funny look as if to check that those words had really just come out of his mouth, but whatever you saw must have put your mind at ease.

“She’s doing fine, you know,” you said as though you’d read his thoughts. “Worrying a lot. About all of you, Freddie, this thing between Tommy and him… But yeah, pretty much fine nonetheless.”

For a moment, there was silence.

“Is she… Will she be happy?” He hadn’t thought he’d ask that. For someone living in the moment, happiness was a short-term illusion; it was fleeting, passing, temporary, and not something to hold on to. It was right there and then, not many years from now. It simply was or it wasn’t. Period.

If you were surprised by the question, you didn’t let it show.

“Well, there’s a lot at risk, but with any luck, she’ll be as happy as she could ever be. Which, I guess, is the Shelby version of a happy ending.” You smiled, the comment made you both chuckle. Then your expression changed as you cast down your eyes, eyebrows furrowing in concern. “I just hope to God I’m not going to be the reason it never happens.”

“Hey,” he said softly, placing a hand on your shoulder, which, in turn, prompted you to look up. “It’ll be fine. Aye? I’ll talk to Polly. She’ll talk to Ada. And after all the fucking talking is done, everyone can be as bloody happy as they fucking want to.”

You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t help cracking a smile.

“And what about the copper?” You were definitely worrying too much, still unable to let it go.

“What about him?” He shot the question right back at you in the most nonchalant tone possible. Now that game he knew the rules of. “I say we deal with him the same way we always do.” He smirked. “Don’t you worry, luv, Tommy’s got a plan.”

“Yeah, because they always work out so well,” you muttered under your breath, but he could feel your posture relax. They were the magic words, he had eventually come to understand. ’Tommy’s got a plan.’

But Tommy wasn’t the only one who thought of the future. Arthur did too; he just didn’t have plans for it. Maybe it was time for him to make one.

Everyone can be happy. Yeah, well. Why the hell not? They were the Peaky fucking Blinders, and they were not scared of coppers.

Whatever the future might bring, they’d sure as hell seen worse.

TAGS (OPEN): @crldrr

(gif credit: @daniels-gillies)

[nicoinverona]

Sunday Afternoon||NicxGeorgie

Who: @georgiexromano and @nicoinverona

When: Sunday, November 4, 2018

What: Nic visits Georgie at the cottage she shares with her cousin on the Romano Estate.  They get cozy but things hold Nic back.  Mentions of @analyticalcapulet.  Mentions of NPC Greta Ricci and her death.

Triggers: death mentions

Nic: arrived at the Romano estate just after lunch on Sunday afternoon. He had a small basket full of non edible treats for Georgie as per the Madam's instructions. Once he arrived and checked in with the guards at the front, he felt very unprepared and almost wished he'd had his gun with him as well, not that he expected he'd be allowed to keep it. He was grateful though that he was shown onto the estate without incident and lead towards the cottage. He pulled the soft red fleece blanket from the top of the basket and put it over his head like a red hood before knocking on the door.

Georgie: was curled up in bed, as she had been since she’d gotten home from the hospital. Today, at least, she had the incentive to put more effort in getting ready. So she was showered and had chosen her cutest pair of comfy pjs to look somewhat out together. When she heard the knock, she headed down the hall to open the door happily. Though she’d been trying not to seem too excited, she couldn’t help but laugh as she spotted his makeshift red hood. “Well hello, you look an awful lot like a big bad wolf in disguise. Not sure I should let you in. I’m afraid you might try to eat me.”

Nic: laughed, putting down the basket and reaching in for Georgie's hips and tickling them. "Maybe I am the big bad wolf in disguise, and maybe I would try to eat you, but something tells me you wouldn't mind at all." She looked a lot better than he remembered from the night of the fire and that made him feel a lot better. "What can I say, halloween is over so the stores have ALL the Christmas stuff out already. I just wanted to find you something warm and soft to snuggle up with. But the red spoke to me," the Dominant smiled.

Georgie: let out a giggle and pushed his hands away. "Stop, I'm not allowed to laugh too hard." He was ridiculous, coming here and teasing her the way he did, then telling her they could never happen. She knew that, of course, but that didn't mean she didn't want to tease him back. "Oh, you know I wouldn't. Which is why I'll happily let you in." She smiled up at him a moment more before standing back to let him in, grinning at the basket of treats. "You didn't have to get me anything... But I have to say, I love the blanket and I really can't wait to see what else you brought." She closed the door behind him before heading straight to her room. "I swear Mother has this superpower that she can tell when I'm out of bed longer than I should be..."

Nic: "Okay, okay," he acquiesced. "But the color looks good on you." The Dominant stepped into the cottage. "Your mother refused to let me bring you anything to eat and I figured you might be about going crazy so I put together a few essentials." He followed Georgie back to her room. "Well if getting you into bed keeps your Mother away," Nic couldn't help but laugh. "Please tell me you have a tv and dvd player back here."

Georgie: "Thank you, Sir." The submissive replied with a light bat of her eyelashes and a small smirk on her lips. She let out a soft huff then as he explained why he brought the stuff he did. "Of course she did... I was hoping you'd get around that. I'm on a strict diet right now, only eating what will help me get better and nothing else." It was annoying, but she wasn't going to fault her mother for trying to take care of her. "Depending on what the essentials are, you're a life saver." Her smirk grew as she climbed into bed and patted the mattress beside her. "If I knew all I needed to do was inhale some smoke to get you in my bed, I'd have done it a while ago." She teased lightly before gesturing at her tv, "Duh, who do you think I am?"

Nic: "I am not some fool about to purposefully bring on the wrath of your mother," the Dominant said with a shake of his head. Sitting down on the bed, with a fond roll of his eyes at Georgie’s comment about getting him into her bed, he handed over the basket. "A couple of movies, some puzzle books, a pen, some cards, and travel sized games," he dug to the bottom of the basket. "And the inspiration for it all," Nic produced a child's copy of Little Red Riding Hood and a plush wolf.

Georgie: "I knew I liked you for a reason... you're very clever." Georgie smiled wide as he rolled his eyes at her, glad she got the reaction she hoped for. Looking through the basket as he told her what was in it, her smile brightened. "You're really the best. Thank you, Sir." A laugh was pulled from her lips as he took out the book and the wolf and she immediately tugged the plush to her chest. "Will you read it to me.... Daddy?" The look on her face screamed mischief as she fluttered her eyelashes more, trying her best to seem innocent.

Nic: "I'm finally beginning to actually enjoy my life again," he nodded. "You're welcome. I got this before I knew you were out of the hospital and I wasn't sure how long you'd be in for. I had to take out the snacks and decided to replace them with DVDs." His face flushed slightly at her teasing. He wasn't completely immune to her after all, but if what she wanted was a Daddy Dominant, it was another way of showing how their lives were on different paths. Still he wouldn't deny her and perhaps it was safer. "Of course <i> Little One,</i>." Nic grabbed the blanket and opened his arms welcoming her to snuggle against him, as he flipped open the book and settled the blanket around them.

Georgie: “So you don’t have a death wish, now that’s a hot quality I look for in a Dom.” Georgie laughed again, though her lungs ached and told her to stop. “It’s perfect, thank you.” The flush on his face was brilliant, but she was surprised he reacted, let alone went along with it. “I /was/ just kidding. But I do like the pet names and any chance to cuddle up to you? I won’t turn that down.” She smiled as she snuggled into his side, letting out a content sigh as she did.

Nic: "No, I don't, but for a while after Greta... I just didn't care about anything but Grazie and work." He noticed the way she struggled and he held up a hand. "I'll stop. I won't make you laugh." Nic shrugged his shoulders. "I'm not really into the Daddy kink. I don't think. I'm more into maybe one day... being a daddy. An actual one, running around after a couple of kids." Nic cut his eyes to her. "I'm generally pro-snuggling. And you /are/ a little one." He pushed some hair back off her face. "So, just out of curiosity, since you mentioned it, what do you look for, quality wise in a Dominant. What do you want? When do you want it?"

Georgie: “And now you’re caring about more, and that’s a really good thing.” Georgie offered with a sweet smile, reaching over to squeeze his hand lightly. She tried to take deep breaths to calm the aching in her lungs because of her laughter. “I’m not really either. I mean, I guess I kinda am, but it depends who I’m with. You’re daddy material, definitely, but not really “Daddy” material, you know? You’d be an amazing dad, based on how you are with Grazie.” She gave him another smile before snuggling closer, taking a deep breath, breathing in his scent as odd as that was. “I’m not sure, if I’m honest. I mean, I’d like to know my Dominant can take care of me. I want to feel safe when I’m with them, but also be able to relax and have fun. I like someone who knows what their doing with their life, which is why I usually go for Dominants a bit older than I am.” She considered his second question and sighed softly, “Not yet. I know I should start looking properly soon, but I still want to have fun. But within the next five years I’d definitely like to have something...”

Nic: "Thanks," Nic said squeezing her hand back. "Yeah, that is me. I like... taking care of people. I was used to taking care of Greta, and we'd been together so long it was hard to remember how we navigated all of that, what she needed versus what I needed to give." The Dominant nodded his head. "I think that's what you should want. Someone who can take care of you, who makes you feel safe. And you should also feel like you can relax and have fun too." Nic laughed then. "Conveniently I think I fit all of those." He nodded his head. "I think wanting an older Dominant and someone who knows what they are doing with their life is probably something that comes from your family as well. Someone who is going to fit in with them, who is going to be useful and make a good connection." Nic continued to softly run a hand through her hair. "That makes sense and I think that's fine. You should have fun and enjoy your life too. You're still young and you've never had that experience before. But I have. I've been in a claim, we were talking about starting a family and actually... " Nic shook his head. "And even though some days I wonder if I'm ready to move on, I know I still want all of that again."

Georgie: nodded as he explained that was how he had been with Greta. It was always interesting to hear him speak of her, and it made her kind of sad to know he lost someone so special to him. "I don't think it's convenience, actually. I think that's just why I like you so much. You're everything I've been taught to look for as well as everything I've realised I want for myself. That's why you're so annoying." She added a light tease at the end, though she smiled up at him. His hand running through her hair caused her to sigh lightly and let her eyes close for a brief moment. "I guess we're both at different points in our lives then..." That would be an easy excuse to rely on every time she questioned why she couldn't be with Nico, to avoid the obvious fact that he wasn't a noble. "Tell me about her. Your 'friend'. You say she's a friend but I can tell it's more than that. What's she like?

Nic: crossess his eyes and stuck out his tongue at Georgie’s teasing. “That’s Sir Annoying to you.” The Dominant nodded his head. “Yeah. But who knows? I could be at this point for a while. Who knows?” The Dominants cheeks burned with color at being called out on his relationship with Mel. “Hmm, you can tell that can you?” Nic asked with a raised eyebrow. “Okay first off no .... buts or whats or questioning. I’m very aware of everything.” He blew out a breath. “Her name is Mel and she is a Capulet so right off the bat I know we can only be friends. “She’s not the daughter of the head of the family or anything like you but she just moved out of her parents place and into a wing on the estate. That is probably another big clue that she doesn’t see me in that way because even though she stays and sometimes for a couple of nights in a row, and has some things at my place for when she does stay... I guess moving in with me isn’t... an option. Maybe it would have been if I had another room or something. But she seems really happy so I’m happy for her.” He laughed. “She likes video games and food and coffee. She was on a quadruple shot the day I met her. She works in retail but only to pay the bills; her real interest is in tech but since the Montagues have that on lock down she’s struggling to find her bliss professionally. And she may actually leave Verona to peruse something. Which is I guess another reason why we are not anything but friends.” The Dominant turned to Georgie. “I have a gift apparently for relationships that can’t be.”

Georgie: "Yes, Sir Annoying." Georgie quipped back in a sing songy voice, though it was still a bit hoarse. "You're right, who knows? I could be at the stage you're currently at now before you're ready to move on from it. Then we'd have a real problem." Of course it wouldn't be any more of a problem than it was now, nothing would really change. The way he blushed made it quite obvious she'd caught him, even if he hadn't been very subtle about the whole thing. She was about to say something when he cut her off to make it clear she couldn't ask anything so she just nodded. Georgie listened carefully, genuinely curious about what was going on in his life and who the lucky girl was that was getting his affection. It was adorable, really, that when she asked to hear about this girl, he told her pretty much /everything/. It was so obvious to her that he liked her in a way that was more than just friends.

When he turned to her again, she lifted her hand to gently cup his cheek before offering a smile, "You don't know that." She dropped her hand then and pushed herself up a bit more so she could look at him face on. "Okay, I know you said no buts, whats or questioning, but too bad, cause I have a few. First of all, not all Noble families are as strict as mine. I know the Capulets are still traditional, but there is a chance they'd accept you because you're not just some commoner, you're a Watchman who also happens to be a perfect gentleman. Secondly, you think she doesn't see you as anything more than a friend just because she can't or won't move in with you? Sir, with all due respect, that's ridiculous. It's very possible that she won't move in with you because she /does/ see you in that way but doesn't want to push it." She gave him a look before shaking her head and offering a small smile, "She sounds amazing, Nico, really. I hope she doesn't leave Verona, not any time soon."

Nic: laughed as Georgie continued to tease him. He could tell her voice was bothering her though. He nodded his head when she mentioned that if they were in the same stage it would be more difficult to not want more. He leaned into her gentle touch, closing his eyes. "Don't know I have a gift for relationships that can't be? Oh I think it's a fair assessment." He rolled his eyes. "You're a horrible listener. I think that would have been true with Lady Bea still in charge. I don't have enough of a read on the new Lord Capulet, and there are other reasons for him to not like me, or the Watch. It will be interesting to see his influence now that she's living at the estate," the Dominant mused softly. "But to be fair, Mel I think is one of the Capulets who probably, wouldn't even care, Noble, not Noble. But she'd be better, professionally to get claimed by a Montague. And not a Watch Officer though. If she wanted that and I'm not sure she does." He shook his head, "I get your point but I think I've made it clear that I like having her around, and would share my space with her. I do think it is more about there only being one room, and what it would mean, what it would look like. Because it would be hard to say we're just friends if we were living together that way." The Dominant rested his head on top of Georgie's. "Thanks Georgie. She is. And I hope she doesn't either. Now let's give your voice a rest okay." He picked back up the book and started reading it. Happy to focus on something else for a bit.

Georgie: "I mean you don't know that they can't be." Not with Mel, anyways. He was coming up with reasons why not, but they sounded more like excuses than anything. "I know." She replied with a quick, raspy laugh at his comment on her not listening. "Lord Tybalt isn't as bad as people make him out to be. But I suppose that's only my experience with him, not everyone else's..." She didn't know what reasons the Lord had not to like Nico, but she didn't think this was the right time to ask. "There, so you can't use the Noble thing as an excuse with her. Let her make the decision if she cares more about her profession or with who she wants to be with." It wasn't always as easy as that, as Georgie knew well, but she wanted to give him some hope. "I guess... Well then just keep having her over until you can both figure out what you want." A small smile was tugged onto her lips as he rested his head on hers and she curled back into him, all too happy to stop talking. Her throat was really hurting again, even if she wanted to keep talking. Instead she focused on his voice, not even so much the story. His voice was so soothing, that plus the warmth of his body had her in a very happily relaxed state by the end of the book.

Nic: continued reading the book, happy that Georgie seemed to relax and stop speaking while he did so. When he finished the story he set the book aside and just leaned back against the bed. It wasn't something a lot of people were comfortable with just anyone, but it was a handy Watch skill to have to sometimes be able to be with someone and not have to talk. Sometimes there just weren't things to say. He brought a hand up, stroking it through her hair gently.

Georgie: let her eyes close as he put the book away and they just relaxed. It was nice, just being like this with someone else. The comfort he gave was unparalleled to anything in that moment. A happy hum slipped past her lips at the way his hand moved through her hair and her fingers drew light designs across his arm. She didn't want to speak, didn't want to ruin the moment and could only hope he'd stay there with her for quite a while longer. At least, she hoped he would stay until someone interrupted them to bring her dinner. But that was still a ways away and she'd take what she could for now.

Nic: let out his own soft happy hum as they settled into a quiet softness of relaxing and just being. Her fingers almost tickled against his skin but he liked it. The Dominant started softly humming a song, just the melody, no lyrics. Part of him wondered if the submissive would just fall asleep in his embrace. He wasn't sure it was a wise idea, but he also thought if she needed rest than he was more than happy to help with that.

Georgie: As Nico began to hum, a lazy smile crossed Georgie's face and her hand moved to rest gently across his stomach. She could feel the gentle vibrations in his chest and it only served to relax her more. She hadn't been aware that she was this tired, but falling asleep at night had been difficult with the coughing and the pain in her lungs when she breathed too deeply. Now she didn't focus on that, able to focus fully on him as she snuggled in the tiniest bit closer before she felt herself drifting off.

Nic: felt Georgie relax more and he was pretty sure the submissive drifted off. He had no real plans for the rest of the day, and the Dominant was still exhausted from the week that had been. Wednesday had bled into Thursday and even into Friday, and although he'd crashed early the night before, just laying here with Georgie, it was easy to feel his own eyes drifting closed. Nic reached for his phone and set an alarm for about 90 minutes. He didn't think anyone would come looking for them before then, and it would be a good rest, and possibly leave them time to watch a movie before he should leave. Alarm set, Nic rested his head on Georgie's, and just let his eyes close.

Georgie: woke to the alarm, startled slightly by the sound. She hadn’t even realized she’d fallen asleep. But as her eyes opened, a content smile slowly crossed her face and she curled closer into the warm body beside her. She didn’t speak yet, not when she felt so groggy but she couldn’t help but think how nice it was to wake up like this, even if it’s been just a nap. And by the peaceful look on Nico’s face, it was clear he’d just been woken up as well.

Nic: The alarm sounding woke Nic. He hadn’t really expected to fall into a deep sleep but apparently the warmth of Georgie’s body against his and her quiet breaths had been enough to lull him to sleep. He hoped that hasn’t been a mistake. “Hey,” The Dominant said, voice still husky with sleep, “want me to put on a movie?” Keeping her from talking would probably be a good thing but he also wasn’t sure about disturbing her; but since they were both awake now, it might be a better idea.

Georgie: hummed softly in response to his words. She liked the way she could feel the rumbling of his words deep in his chest and let her eyes close again. And though she knew she should probably move, let him get up to put in a movie, she didn't really want to. "Not yet." Her voice was more hoarse than before thanks to the sleep, but she spoke quietly so as to not hurt it. "Just lay with me 'til we're both properly awake."

Nic: “Sssshh,” He cided her. “Save your voice and your throat. Should I call someone to get you something to drink?” Nic asked. Still he didn’t move; he didn’t want to move. Georgie was warm and comfortable. “I hope it’s okay that I fell asleep too,” he murmured. “It’s been a long few days.”

Georgie: shook her head subtly, not really wanting to move at all from where she was lying so comfortably. She didn't want anyone else here, not right now. This was too good and she wanted to hang onto it as long as she could. Her smile grew slightly at his words and she tilted her head up slightly to look at him. "Of course it's okay" Her voice was a whisper now, doing what she could to relax it. "You deserve rest more than anyone, you've been so busy."

Nic: "I felt pretty confident it was okay with you, but I meant more with... you family," he admitted. And by family, he meant her mother. He had no desire to mess one on one with the head of /any/ family and the Romano's were no exception. He shook his head. "No more than anyone else working on this fire case or any of the other first responders that night." Nic shifted slightly, "how have you been sleeping since the fire? Okay?"

Georgie: "You mean Mother?" Georgie smiled lightly, knowing exactly what he meant. "She won't mind, it's just sleeping, we didn't do anything. And I will tell her that if she for some reason says something." She doubted she would, though. While her Mother was very protective of her, the submissive was sure that right now, she'd just be happy she was getting some rest. "I guess.... And yeah, okay. I mean, it's kind of hard some nights. Sometimes I cough a lot or have a hard time breathing, but it's getting easier. Also laying in bed all day makes it hard to actually sleep when the time comes."

Nic: "Well in a word, yes," the Dominant laughed. "I'm not so sure your mother sees 'anything' as just anything." The woman had practically strangled Nic with his own shirt upon hearing Georgie's name, had berated him for reaching out and the method of contact, and had never once even said thank you. Not that Nic expected the Madam to; but he'd been hoping for a different experience with a Noble head of family. The Dominant nodded his head, "that's why I set an alarm, so a nap this afternoon wouldn't make tonight too hard to sleep. No nightmares involving fire?"

Georgie: "No, you're probably right... Well I can promise I'll at least do my best to calm her should she get annoyed with you. Which, again, I doubt she would about this. Because you got permission to be here, so you're okay." She wasn't supposed to be talking, she knew, but she wanted to assure him that this was fine. Partly because she was hoping if he relaxed, there could be a chance of it happening again. "Um..." She looked down, her brow furrowing slightly as she shrugged lightly. While she hadn't had them every night, some nights she awoke, unable to breathe, thinking her room was filling with smoke.

Nic: "You don't need to do that; but I am definitely attempting to tread carefully," he laughed. "I did get permission to be here and that's probably a good thing. I've never felt so uncomfortable without my gun as I did showing up to the front gates here. Although I doubt they would have let me keep it if I'd brought it with. Good thing I wasn't coming after work," the Dominant grimaced. It wasn't unexpected, and was in part why he'd asked, but the revelation was enough. "I think it's pretty standard after what you've been through. If you want to talk about it, when you're feeling better, or write about now, to save your voice, I'm here. Or I could probably recommend a therapy group."

Georgie: "But I will, cause I want her to like you." Her Mother wasn't overly fond of any Dominants who seemed to be close to her, regardless of their relationship to her. She frowned a bit then when he admitted to having been uncomfortable without his gun. "I'm sorry you were uncomfortable. I swear none of my family would ever hurt someone without cause." She had to admit, it hurt a bit that he'd felt like there could be some danger in coming to visit her. "No, definitely not. They'd have locked it up - it would have been completely safe - but it's better to just avoid all of that..." Georgie glanced up at him again when he told her she could talk about it, and even offered a therapy group, to which she shook her head, "I um I think I'm okay. They're not every night, just when I cough too much in my sleep."

Nic: smiled at the submissive and kissed the top of her forehead. "I'm sure they wouldn't, but the last time I was caught without my gun, and others had guns..." he left out a breath, "was the night Greta died." Nic shook his head. "She took one of the first bullets and so my gun wouldn't have done much but possibly compound the tragedy, but still; it is something I'll always remember." The Dominant nodded. "The thing is, I wouldn't even blame them for locking it up, so definitely better to keep it at home if I'm coming to visit here." Nic rubbed at her back a little. "Probably a bit of a subconscious thing it sounds like."

Georgie: The gentle kiss calmed her a bit, but her frown only saddened as he explained why he had been uncomfortable. "Nico... I'm so sorry. That would have been- God, I'm just so sorry." She hated that he had gone through something like that, hated that his claim that he obviously had loved so dearly was killed right in front of him. Subconsciously, she moved closer to him, just wanting to offer some support as he gently rubbed her back. "Yeah, I guess so. It'll probably go away soon, so I'm okay with dealing with it for now."

Nic: "Thanks," the Dominant said softly, allowing Georgie to snuggle in closer. The support was nice. "It's something you hope no one else has to ever experience. And yet, people do," he said matter of factly. "If it doesn't, please talk to someone about it, instead of resorting to pharmaceutical sleep aids." The case with Ophelia Capulet and her overdose still bothered him. He still felt like if only he'd made his suspicions known sooner, maybe it wouldn't have happened.

Georgie: A soft sigh left Georgie’s lips, not really knowing what to say to that. She just couldn’t imagine being in that situation and the fact that he’d actually been in it? It was terrible. His next words confused her a bit but she nodded, “Yeah no of course. I don’t- I’m not a fan of medication if I can find an alternative.” She explained before adding, “I’ll come to you. You’re just... an amazing listener and I think you’d know exactly what to say. But I’m really okay for now.”

Nic: "Good. You wouldn't believe how many people think they won't get hooked on addictive kinds of medicines even though everything we know points to there rarely being anyone who can escape." He chuckled darkly. "Even I've had a few near misses. First, with some anti-depressants and then more recently when I bruised a couple of ribs and injured my collar bone after trying to break down a door on a raid back at the beginning of October." His cheeks warmed with her faith in him. "Thank you," the Dominant said softly. He allowed himself a moment and pressed a kiss to her cheek, just off her lips. Anything else, he knew, would be far too dangerous.

Georgie: frowned slightly, tilting her head as she listened closely to him speak of addictive medicines and his history with them. "Are you okay now? With the medicine and with the injuries from your raid..." She knew his job was dangerous, but that didn't mean she liked knowing that he got hurt. The way his cheeks tinted pink brought a smile back to her face, but the kiss had her freezing. Her eyelashes fluttered as she closed her eyes briefly at the touch. His lips had been so close to hers, yet not close enough. She knew it was wrong, but she wanted to kiss him. At least once. Georgie met his gaze again and leaned in slightly, close enough so she could feel his breath on her lips. But then she stopped, blinking as she realised that wouldn't be fair to them.

Nic: "I am fine," he assured her. Although he had gone through a patch where sleep medicines had been the only thing he thought could make him sleep and breaking that had been difficult. "Bruises all healed. I'd show you but ..." Nic trailed off with a soft laugh. Her face was so close and he reached up, cupping her cheek, his thumb brushing over her lips. "Georgie," the Dominant whispered softly, "what am I going to do with you?"

Georgie: "Good..." Part of her wanted to ask for more details, to know exactly what had happened and how long it had taken him to break his almost addiction. "I wouldn't mind if you showed me." She replied with a small smile, wanting to laugh but knowing she shouldn't. Her breath caught, then, as his thumb gently brushed over her lips. He wasn't doing anything to help her yearning to feel his lips on hers. "Kiss me. Please." Her words were barely a whisper, more a breath than anything.

Nic: "You'd have to move," he said, with a tilt of his head. "I won't be able to get my shirt up enough with you leaning against me." The Dominant bit down on his own lip at her request. "Like this?" Nic asked, pressing his lips to her forehead. "Or like this?" he asked, lips brushing the tip of her nose. The Dominant knew of course, what she wanted, but his own resolve was fading.

Georgie: “Fine, you can show me later. I’m too cozy to move now.” Georgie curled closer to him to make a point. But that only brought their faces closer together too. Still, she held her breath as he moved to press his lips first to her forehead and then to her nose. He was so close, she couldn’t handle it for much longer. “Not quite...” Leaning closer now, the submissive’s lips barely brushed his, needing him to make the final move. “Please.” She breathed out again, her breath surely warming his lips.

Nic: "Funny, so am I," he agreed with a grin as he eagerly accepted her closer. Her lips barely brushed against his, her words, her breath warming his lips. "So polite," the Dominant murmured, "only one thing missing." Still, he ducked his head and pressed his lips to hers in a quick, chaste kiss.

Georgie: A small smile was brought to her lips just at his gentle words, knowing what was coming. When his lips finally pressed to hers, she almost let out a sigh of relief. The kiss was quick, but before he could pull away too far, Georgie followed him and pressed her lips more firmly to his. She wasn’t trying to push this too much, but she couldn’t help herself.

Nic: chuckled softly, pulling back from Georgie and putting his finger up to her lips. "Whoah little one," the Dominant chided. "I'm still waiting to hear something from you to go with your please. Just three little letters. I want to hear it. And then I'll consider /really/ granting your request."

Georgie: A small pout crossed Georgie's lips as Nico pulled back and rested a finger on her lips to halt the kiss. She couldn't explain the feeling she got when he scolded her, using the pet name she was starting to get really fond of. "I'm sorry. Please, /Sir/." As she spoke her lips brushed over his finger, and she hoped that'd be enough for him to kiss her properly.

Nic: smiled warmly at Georgie, his whole body thrumming with warmth as she complied. "Now was that so hard?" the Dominant asked. His hand cupped her cheek again, the other sliding under her arm, fingers splaying against her upper ribs. Nic leaned in and pressed his lips to Georgies again, this time more insistently. He pulled her top lip between his sucking on it lightly before licking over her lips, his tongue seeking entry to her mouth.

Georgie: "No, Sir." She whispered back, her smile returning to her lips easily as he cupped her cheek and held her close. One of her hands moved up to rest against his chest as the other stayed gripping his arm gently. This next kiss was exactly what she'd been hoping for and she melted into it easily. A soft groan left her lips as he teased her upper lip and she easily allowed his tongue access, not hesitating to deepen the kiss. Playfully, she fought his tongue for dominance, but gave in almost immediately, her fingers curling lightly into his shirt as she leaned even closer.

Nic: 's grip on Georgie tightened as her tongue playfully fought his for dominance. Even though she leaned in closer, he was more near the side of the bed, so the Dominant" guided her back, leaning her back against the pillows, as he followed her, almost hovering above her. Nic fought himself hard to keep things light, but as expected, Georgie Romano was incredibly dangerous to him.

Georgie: was well aware that this wasn't the best idea, but she was so easily lost in the feel of his hands holding her tight and the way his lips moved against hers. Matters weren't helped as he rolled her over so she was laying on her back and the submissive gripped his shirt and arm tighter to pull him more on top of her. She wanted him hovering directly above her, or even resting his weight on her. The hand in his shirt then slipped up his chest, over his neck and into his hair, fingers curling gently as she felt her mind going fuzzy. If she was honest, she knew she'd have to break for air soon with how weak her lungs still were, but she put that off as long as she could, scared if she stopped the kiss, he wouldn't allow her any more.

Nic: moved so he was completely above Georgie, lowering his weight, and shifting it so he wouldn't crush her. He pulled back from the kiss, still wanting to taste her, pulling her lip between his again for a tease and then pressing a trail of kisses along the underside of her jaw. "Is that better?" he murmured into her ear. "Was that what you wanted?"

Georgie: was grateful when he pulled back, but didn't leave her completely. Another soft sigh of pleasure slipped from her lips as she tried to catch her breath, and she smiled lazily as he spoke softly against her ear. "That was... certainly in the right direction, Sir. But I think perhaps... another would /really/ get the point across. Don't you think?" She replied breathlessly, her fingers still running through his hair and massaging his scalp lightly. "Or maybe... maybe now you could take your shirt off. Show me you're okay.... Better position for it now, right, Sir?"

Nic: lifted his head enough to grin at Georgie. "So greedy. But good for you, I kind of like that." He leaned into her touch lightly, closing his eyes and focusing on thegentle massage. "I think taking my shirt off would be dangerous for me, especially in this position, if someone where to decide to check on us. I want you, and your family to know, that even if we can only be friends, that I respect you." Still the Dominant sat back on his heels and pulled his shirt up revealing most of his torso. "Feel free to check it out if you want."

Georgie: 's smile only grew more at his words, happy that he didn't scold her but instead found her eagerness amusing. He couldn't really blame her, not when they were both very aware of their shared attraction. His words made sense, but she wanted to disagree. It seemed like she didn't have to, though, as he sat back and pulled up his shirt. It wasn't quite off, but it was certainly good enough. "I know you respect me..." Her mouth went dry as she pushed herself up, her gaze running over his exposed torso. Her hands slowly moved to his abdomen, fingers running gently over the muscles there, taking the time to run over every contour. "Well... you certainly seem to be in good shape, Sir. No injuries that I can see..."

Nic: nodded, "I'd hope you'd know, but I know you can see how this would look to anyone walking in," the Dominant answered. "Even if I got you out of the fire." Her touch almost made him shiver, but Nic managed to keep himself under control. "I do work out regularly but not compulsively so. I prefer when my lifestyle helps keep me in shape instead. And I told you I was all healed."

Georgie: "I know." Georgie sighed softly, before allowing a small smirk to cross her face. "You know, I /could/ always lock the door. Give us complete privacy to avoid any misconceptions. I'd hate for anyone to think poorly of you..." Especially because she knew just how great he was. The submissive hummed lightly as her fingers continued to glide gently across his skin, even daring to dip low right above the waistline of his pants before sliding up again. "Well I suppose breaking down doors keeps you pretty fit, huh?" She teased lightly, finally tearing her gaze away from his body to meet his eyes again.

Nic: shrugged his shoulders. "Sometimes, but I want to stay fit to be able to do my job properly. Taking care of Grazie, getting her out for runs, walks, are important, but so is.... other physical pursuits with a partner." He rolled his eyes. "I don't think a locked door is stopping most people on this estate, not to mention how that looks as well," he laughed. Her daring fingers pulled a low growl from him, his eyes flashing dark when they met with hers again. The Dominant pulled his shirt back down, and settled against her again capturing her lips in a kiss one more time.

Georgie: "Ah... so you use sex as a workout. I can't blame you." It did make her laugh, though, a soft breathless one, especially as he rolled his eyes. "No, I suppose you're right. But it gives us an extra moment to get ourselves more /decent/ I suppose." The growl that left his lips sent heat rushing through her body and her hands flew up to wrap around his neck as he pushed her back down, catching her lips in another kiss. This one was as passionate as the last, but with a bit more heat which she would never say no to. Just to test his reactions, Georgie arched her body up and rocked her hips up against his, the tease meant for him only sent another rush of warmth through her body.

Nic: "In different ways, yes," he admitted, not needing to put more idea's into the young submissive's head. "All the more reason not to need that moment, at least, not yet." Still that didn't stop him from kissing her again and leaning his body down into hers. When she arched her body and rocked her hips up against his, there was no way to hide his attraction to her. He responded in kind, rolling his hips down into hers, groaning softly into her mouth.

Georgie: He kept talking in a way that made it clear they shouldn't be doing anything, but his actions told a completely different story. His reaction to her hips pressing up - him rolling his hips back against hers - had her letting a soft moan escape into the kiss. She wanted him, he knew that she did, and she could only hope that maybe, just maybe he'd throw caution to the wind. Her fingers curled in his hair again, tugging at it gently, while the other hand slid down his back and up again under his shirt. Only just so she could feel the warmth of his skin beneath her fingers.

Nic: arched into the touch of her fingers against the bare skin of his back. The Dominant pulled his mouth from hers, groaning as he leaned back. "I'm sorry," he said with a shake of his head. There were too many reasons why this was a bad idea, and as much as his body wanted this, his head, and if he was honest, maybe his heart, were not on the same page.

Georgie: sighed softly, having known this would happen. She'd just hoped it would happen a bit later. She carefully pulled her hands back, allowing them to fall to cover her face for a brief moment as she caught her breath again. "No, it's okay..." Her voice was soft as she lowered her hands, giving him a small smile. "I did say no sex, anyways." She teased lightly, recalling their texts from a few days prior. "You are an incredible kisser, though, sir."

Nic: "It's not, but thank you for saying so anyway," he shook his head. "You did say no sex, and I shouldn't be putting your lungs to the test." The Dominant's face colored slightly again. "Thank you Georgie, but I think that's because I was kissing a great kisser and had to keep up." He took a breath, trying to calm himself. "Your mother has trusted me, about as much as she can trust anyone she doesn't know, and I don't want to break that." Nic tilted his head. "And I wouldn't admit this but you've already called me out on it. I like Mel. I want to be more than just friends that have sex. And even if she doesn't want that, the fact is, it would hurt me, to find out she was fooling around with someone else, so I really shouldn't be doing that to her, no matter how she feels," he admitted honestly.

Georgie: reached up and cupped his cheek, her thumb brushing the colour there gently. "You're too good to me." His next words had her sucking in her bottom lip, not wanting to frown but also not quite able to smile. "I get it. Even if you're not together yet, you would like to be, and it'd be wrong for you to go sleep with someone else. Just in case she does feel the same way. I'm sorry for initiating this. I knew how you felt and I did it anyways, and that was wrong." Still, she couldn't help but be a bit selfish and feel glad that it had happened.

Nic: "It's not only that," he said. "The truth is, apart from brothel workers, until Mel, I hadn't been with anyone else since Greta. And I was only ever with Greta. The truth is, I don't really know how to do this casual thing. Not with Mel, not with you. And you're... not ready for the kind of commitment I want. So that's not fair to you either." He shook his head. "Don't apologize. I like you, I am obviously attracted to you, and this could be easy and good. I'm the Dominant and I need to be more responsible one, even if I'm not /your/ Dominant."

Georgie: was surprised to hear that, and her surprise showed as her eyebrows shot up. "Really? Well I suppose that makes sense..." He loved Greta, why would he ever have needed anyone else? And then after that, she couldn't imagine how hard it was to even consider going with anyone else. "I understand, Sir, I do, really. I will offer, though, that if things don't turn out how I hope they will for you and Mel, I can help you learn to do casual. If you'd have me." Casual was really all she could do, not having ever been in a long, serious relationship. Again, she offered a small smile and shook her head, "It's not fair for you to take all the blame. It was still my fault for suggesting it."

Nic: shrugged his shoulders a little embarrassed; obviously Georgie had a different view of him. He nodded his head; although that was what he was supposed to be doing with Mel too, was learning how to be casual and he'd sort of really messed that up. "If things don't work out. If Mel realizes I'm more into her or if she has to leave Verona... we can revisit this conversation if you want." The Dominant offered her a small smile. "Between just you and me, we would work on you taking a bit of the blame, and the repercussions of that, but if anyone had come in and seen us, and anything had happened, yes, as the Dominant I would have taken all the responsibility for what was happening."

Georgie: "I hope they do, though. I hope either you can stay friends or you could maybe become more. She'd be silly not to see how amazing you are." Though Georgie was very aware of her relationship with Nico and how they really couldn't be more than friends, she was a bit jealous that he felt something for someone else. But what really got her was the fact that that woman didn't even know, or perhaps didn't feel that way back. Nic deserved to be loved and she hoped he'd get that. "I would like that. But it would be up to you, Sir." When he again mentioned the possible consequences of their actions, she smiled lightly and leaned forward to press her lips to his cheek. "Yes, but no one came in. So therefore it's my fault. Okay?"

Nic: almost spoke up, defending Mel, but decided to keep his mouth closed. The reasons why Mel wouldn't or couldn't be with Nic were not Georgie's business. "I do hope we'll at least stay friends," the Dominant said with a gentle smile. "I'll be sure to let you know. I mean if Mel ends up having to leave, or needs to stop seeing me for whatever reason, you're kind of the only person I've talked to about how I actually feel about her; honestly. And I have a feeling I would need a friend." Nic shook his head, finger pressing to her nose. "It's a little, your fault. But also mine."

Georgie: was again a bit surprised to hear that he'd only spoken to her about this, but that surprise was quickly replaced by warmth. She was happy he considered her a friend; a friend that he was close enough to to share these things with. "And I have a feeling I can be the best friend ever." She teased lightly before scrunching up her nose at his touch. "I guess a little makes sense, seeing as I'm the 'little one'. So I suppose I can share the blame with you; just this once cause I don't usually like sharing."

Nic: "I like the sound of that," he admitted. The Dominant shook his head with a grimace, scrunching up his nose. "Generally neither do I." He looked around, "how about we watch a movie now? Your choice and then I'll get out of your hair."

Georgie: A small frown formed on her face as she replied, "I don't want you to get out of my hair. You being here is the most fun I've had since I got back from the hospital. But yeah... let's watch a movie." She pursed her lips as she tried to think of something good to watch before asking, "What's your preference; rom coms or action? I can't decide which I'd rather right now."

Nic: laughed. "Good to know. But if I leave someone might actually bring you some food or something. And that will probably be wanted." He tilted his head, "hmmm maybe not an action; I think we've had enough of that for a while."

Georgie: "Nope, I'd much rather have you than food." She replied with a cheeky grin, though she did really notice her throat hurting again and knew she should probably stop talking soon. "Works for me. Can we watch The Holiday? I know it's kind of Christmassy... Oh! Or You've Got Mail, I haven't watched that one in a while."

Nic: laughed, shaking his head. "Nice to see the smoke didn't damage your incoragableness." The Dominant thought about the movie choices suggested and nodded his head. "You've Got Mail, I love the whole part about New York in the fall and a bouquet of freshly sharpened pencils. Cheezy originality that I love," he grinned, getting up and starting the movie before settling back on the bed with Georgie and pulling her into his side again, reaching for the soft blanket and tucking it around them.

Georgie: "Oh, that'll never go away." Georgie beamed at the fact that he knew exactly what You've Got Mail was about. Really it was like everything he did only made her like him more. "Who knew you were so cheesy?" She cuddled into his side as the movie began, a content smile on her face. This was what she needed; just a relaxing afternoon, being held by someone she cared about. If anything could cure her, it was this.

Nic: "It's a well guarded secret," he teased once the movie started. "Now shush because this movie is too good to miss."

Georgie: laughed softly before bringing the blanket up to her chin, getting cosy to watch the movie. As always, she laughed, cried and smiled. But as the movie ended, she almost didn't want it to, cause she knew he'd be leaving soon.

Nic: enjoyed the movie, he always did. The ending always gave him goosebumps though, from when Tom Hanks asks what about if he wasn't Fox Books and she wasn't The Shop Around the Corner, saying how he'd ask her out...for as long as they both shall live, until she sees him in the park and she admits she wanted it to be him. It wasn't exactly the kind of love he and Greta had, as they were never that opposing or had reason to be kept apart, but it still touched the Dominant. The fight, the overcoming obstacles; he loved it. "I don't know why I love that movie so much," he chuckled, although his voice cracked slightly betraying his emotion. "Someone should make all the Montague's and Capulet's sit down and watch it to see that just because you /should/ be enemies, it doesn't mean you /have to be/; especially if you let your guard down and really get to know someone.

Georgie: smiled as she looked over at him. There was something about him, the way he said things like that that just had her liking him more than she should. "I think you love it cause it's an amazing movie." The submissive replied softly before nodding, "If it were that simple, it would be an amazing idea. Do you think this degree actually did anything for them?"

Nic: Laughed; his love of the movie was born of nostalgia and memories, like most things in his life. He pondered her question for a moment. “On a case by case basis, yes. On the other hand I feel the decree lead to even more distrust due to feeling betrayed. Is it really so different with Noble families? Or is it more ego than anything?”

Georgie: shrugged as she thought about his answer. "I mean... my family is not meant to associate with Montagues. If a family as a whole disagrees with another family's way of living, then it's better off to just not associate with them all together?" She didn't believe that completely. She couldn't as she thought of the friends she'd made who happened to be Montagues. "I think ego plays into it as well, though. If two families hate each other and a claim occurs between them, one family might see themselves as having 'lost' a submissive to this other family. It's ridiculous of course because the submissive obviously chose that for themselves, but I think that's how these two families specifically are seeing it."

Nic: "That just seems like segregation to me and I thought as a whole, society was trying to move past that," he admitted. "But I know very little about what it means to be a Noble family, and I guess it's easier to think this way when you don't have to consider those kinds of things. How do things work in your family?" the Dominant asked. "Both with the submissives that are claimed in and the ones, like you, that will Claim out?"

Georgie: "I know..." Georgie knew it sounded silly, because it kind of was, but she agreed with anything her mother said because she knew what was best for the family. "Well, for us, we're all very close. And basically our Heads have the final say in everything. What they say, goes. If you don't listen, you get punished." She grimaced slightly at the thought of her impending punishment... "But any submissives claimed into the family are accepted completely, because they are now Romanos and we treat all Romanos as family. As for submissives claiming out... a lot of the time, we have to look into how that claim could benefit the family. We're not just gonna run off with someone and leave the Romanos behind. I have it even more so being Madam Celeste's daughter." She gave him a sad sort of smile before shrugging, "It's okay, though, just means I need to keep my standards very high."

Nic: "I don't know that I could live like that," he admitted. "And no offense but it seems to make my job...redundant and that just doesn't exactly sit well with me." He nodded his head, "but what about their families from before?" Nic couldn't imagine having had to make Greta give up her family. It was another thing he worried about with pursuing Mel, and even trying to think about something with Georgie herself that way. It made him sad for her. Because it seemed like what she could do for the family was of more importance than her own happiness and that didn't sit right with him at all. It reminded him of submissives who ended up with Dominants that mistreated them in some way; and he'd seen his fair share of that on the job.

Georgie: shrugged slightly, offering an awkward sort of smile. "When you're raised the way I was, it just makes sense. Your job isn't redundant, though, you're still there to protect everyone in the city. That's an extremely important task." When asked about the families of before, her smile brightened a bit, "Oh, they are more than welcome to stay part of the submissive's life, of course. Since a lot of the claims have more riding on them than just love, it's actually very common that our families become close." Or business partners but that was neither here nor there. She could tell what she'd said didn't seem to sit well so she gave him a gentle nudge, smiling sweetly, "I'll be okay. I like knowing that I can do something to benefit my family; they're the most important thing to me. Besides, they're allowing me to have my fun now before I need to focus on all that serious stuff."

Nic: returned Georgie's smile. He had enough experience with Noble families that they could, /should/ protect their own without the Watch and that they couldn't be trusted. Probably because they were neutral and aimed to stay as such. That of course didn't make protecting the others in Verona any easier. "I think it would have been even more difficult for Greta's family if they'd hadn't been such a big part of our life; like they would have missed something, or I would have taken even more from them." He shook his head. "I am glad you think so. And if nothing else I hope you find a fit that is just as much for you, as for your family."

Georgie nodded slowly, understanding what he meant as she offered him a small smile. "I'm glad that they were part of your lives. I hope you were able to support each other after..." She let out a soft sigh, still feeling sad every time she thought about the hardship he had gone through. "I'd never be able to just leave my family behind for a new one. I mean... I'd hope I would gain a new one, get involved and welcomed into my Dominant's family. But I wouldn't ever trade them for a new one, you know?" Georgie nodded then, a brighter smile on her face as she did, "That's the ultimate goal. I think I'll make that work, I hope I will, anyways."

Nic: "It was difficult," he admitted. "I had a lot of guilt. I still do. So we're not as close as we once were, or at least, they aren't with me. But her family is still close with mine." The Dominant nodded his head. "I hope you get all you want Georgie," he said, ruffling her hair. "You deserve it." Nic chuckled softly. "If anyone can; I have no doubt it would be you. I know well enough that when you want something, it's pretty hard not to get caught up in it."

Georgie: “I'm sorry that you do." It wasn't her place to tell him he shouldn't feel guilty, but she did hope he would find a way to eventually forgive himself; even if she did think there was nothing to forgive. She laughed as he ruffled her hair, coughing a little as she did. "I'm not sure I do, but thanks." Georgie couldn't help but blush a bit at his words, though a small smirk crossed her face as she shrugged, "Sorry about that... You're just too easy to want."

Nic: laughed. "Yeah, well, I hope you're coming to see why we're a wrong fit that way. I have nothing to offer your family. And I want more than you do right now; although I could wait." When she started coughing he frowned. "I hope you feel better soon. I should probably get out of your hair. Let you rest, eat, and all that."

Georgie: pouted, still not completely pleased with it even if she knew full well he had a point. "You have your charm and your intelligence and your stupidly handsome face. That's plenty to offer." She huffed a bit before allowing a small smile, "I wouldn't make you wait. Not for me, that's just silly. You go get your girl." The submissive nodded, thought she really didn't want him to go. Still, she'd taken up a lot of his time off and she knew he didn't get a whole lot of that. "I guess... You go rest up, too, enjoy your evening off."

Nic: "To you, sure. To your family, to your Mother? I hardly think so," he said with a fond roll of his eyes. His face flushed as she continued, even allowing himself a moment to think of Mel as /his/ girl was a huge step. Not to imagine thinking of all the other things he wanted, and if he could have them with Mel. The Dominant leaned in and pressed a kiss to the middle of Georgie's forehead. "I will. Gotta get Grazie out for a bit. Things have been crazy the last few days." He stood up and reached for Georgie's hand. "See me out?"

Georgie: "I think Mother would be fond of your stupidly handsome face." Georgie replied with a soft laugh, before smirking a bit, always loving the way she knew how to make him flush so easily. A soft contented hum left her lips as he kissed her forehead and she nodded as he stood, "I'm sure she always loves when you're home to give her attention." She took his hand and stood up, leading him back through the cottage to the front door. She stopped there and smiled up at him, a little twinkle in her eyes as she tapped her lips with her free hand. "One more for the road?"

Nic: "She apparently has yet to register it," he winked, teasingly. "She's used to being the only girl in my life. I'm not about to push her aside just because I'm being more social now. She's going to be a true litmus test. Can't handle my princess, can't handle me," he joked. Her request wasn't all that unexpected. He leaned in, cupping one cheek, the other hand gripping her waist firmly. His lips moved in, close to her ear and he whispered, "I'm going to be so nice, and not even tell you what I know you really want me to do." Still he pressed his lips against hers, kissing the submissive soundly. "Be good," he said huskily before opening the door and slipping away into the early evening.

[usuknetwork]

USUK Christmas Countdown 2017: December 13

Title: The Song of a Heart Day 1: Music Summary: It’s almost Christmas. Arthur is deaf and is given a chance to restore his hearing, but little does he know that a certain street performer knows exactly what he’s going through. Rating: T, for mild language Warning: Angst, Comfort

(Written by: @birb-draws and Art by: @lily-clare)

The wind whistled sharply down the narrow London alleyways, ushering people into their homes and sending their windows flying shut; anyone caught outside was given a fierce reminder of what was yet to come. Winter had arrived and thick pools of slush were already piling in the dips of the pavement, promising children a lousy upcoming Christmas with not enough snow to roll around in.

Up ahead, the distant ringing of bells seemed to beckon very few brave souls out of their houses and into church, but to some it only seemed as though people were emerging from their warm homes for no particular reason...

Arthur didn't hear the bells. He didn't hear the windows slamming shut. He didn't hear the howling wind. He didn't even hear the sound of his own footsteps.

He heard nothing.

It was like an emptiness had invaded his ears, won the battle and stood guard, scaring off any noise that dared to pass by. Perhaps Arthur couldn't hear, but he could feel. He felt all the slightest touches of the wind as though it had weaved its way through his skin and buried itself into his bones.

Ever since the British student turned eight and onwards, all of his senses had become more susceptible, but one of them less so. Whatever had affected him hadn't exactly been for the best, some would say, since the poor blond had lost all traces of his hearing. Eventually, he had grown tired of people pitying him; telling him how everything was going to be alright even though there wasn't much of a problem to begin with. It's not like he was on the verge of death, so why over-exaggerate? His family would always make such a big fuss, and whenever a problem would arise, they'd bring up his complication and use it to defend themselves. Something like 'my son's deaf, you can't say that' was a pretty popular choice among his ménage.

At first, waking up to complete silence and watching your mother mouth mute words was a scary experience, but after a few months or so it became a routine for the scrawny blond, though it did take a while to get used to his flashing alarm clock, specified for people with similar problems.

It was as though he was all alone in this world... No one would treat him the same as they used to. There were more of those stupid fake smiles being thrown around him, more of the people who'd help him with even the most simple of acts as though he had not only lost the ability to hear, but to play out basic tasks too. He wasn't stupid, he was simply deaf.

Arthur breathed out a long and slow breath, his eyelids drooping midway as he watched the hot fog emit from his mouth and fade into the air around him.

He understood people were just being nice, so why not take the hint when he'd insist he could take his own plate back to the kitchen rather than have four people offer to do so? He was sick and tired of it, being treated like a child. The urges he'd get to scream and shout at people to stop driving him insane were always unbearable, but could he do it? What a silly question...

I'm eighteen, for God's sake, Arthur thought to himself with his signature frown playing on his lips. And I'm so lost...

Wrapped up in thick layers of clothing, Arthur pulled his crimson red scarf farther up his face, just enough to cover his pale lips. What have I become?

Whether or not he'd ever find the answer to that question was beyond him.

Who was he?

The journey to the grocery store was taking a reasonable time judging by the displeasing weather. Usually it was quite difficult to tread through thick layers of snow, but with a bit more willpower to get to a warm shelter much sooner than later, Arthur seemed to have shortened that period pretty drastically.

With rosy, flushed cheeks and minuscule snowflakes setting on his lashes, the Brit just about managed to pick his way correctly through the vast expanse of pure white.

Turning on a sharp corner, the blond felt a familiar sensation tingling in the air... It felt like music. A steady, perhaps a bit out-of-tune, beat weaving its way through the cold city. As he neared the source of vibrations in the air, Arthur's eyes found themselves set on a man - huddled a little way by the entrance of a store - in rags and seated on a few pieces of long, thin cardboard.

Peering a little closer, the Brit was able to catch a glint of blue from beneath those constantly squeezing shut eyes with every strained note the other seemed to be singing. At least, that's what Arthur expected he was doing. A few golden strands of hair had protruded from under his wooly hat and framed the stranger's face very, very nicely.

At the sight of Arthur, the man slowly came to a stop, his fingers ceased their movement on the guitar he held in his hands, and he peered up at the Brit expectedly through his thick bundle of clothes, just as he always did.

Yes, this street performer was no exact stranger to Arthur. Over the course of a few weeks of moving into his flat, Arthur tended to take this route throughout the week to get to his favourite (and closest) store which of course was always accompanied by this... Man.

Arthur had never even taken the moment to learn his name. It was quite a simple world, really; you threw a coin or two into a beggar's hat and ignored them in any other situation you'd see them in. But, for Arthur, his world was a little different... He was very much aware of the hardships in life - especially in this dreadful weather - and was more than willing to help a guy out. Of course, he hoped this blond wasn't spending his money on drugs or alcohol, and instead on real necessities like access to food and water.

He could never be sure, although this performer did seem very promising.

Despite the rather huge lack of savings the other would get for each of his performances, Arthur still continued to give him some change whenever he got the chance.

In fact, that thought lead him to wondering as to why exactly this man didn't get much money? The Brit had seen other street musicians with twice as many hats full to the brim of notes and shiny coins. So why didn't he?

Arthur huffed from under his thick scarf, feeling the heat vanish against the red material almost as soon as it appeared. He furrowed his brows somewhat at that eager look the other seemed to taunt him with before plunging his hand into his pocket and fishing out a five pound note. He leaned forwards, having to bend a little, so the 'stranger' could take his offering.

The blue-eyed man reached forwards, his fingers brushing against Arthur's own whilst he took the note. A giddy smile began to bubble amongst his lips whilst he excitedly traced his thumb and index finger over the thin piece of paper, peering rather intently at it for a while.

Soon after that brief moment of contact, the shorter of the two quickly withdrew his hand back towards his own chest, rubbing both of them together as if to warm them up. Arthur noted that the other's hands were (oddly enough) quite warm compared to his own - especially in this dreadful weather... He cleared his throat and let the familiar vibrations against the skin on his neck distract him for a moment, his gaze averted towards the store just a little ways ahead of him.

I should go... What am I doing, wasting time? Arthur took a step away from the other, sending him a curt, acknowledging nod before taking a couple more steps towards the store.

That was, however, until he felt a sharp tug pull him back to where he last stood. Instinctively turning on his heel, Arthur stared incredulously at the other blond, wanting so desperately to ask what on Earth his problem was. He couldn't. For a heartbeat, they each stood in an uncomfortable silence, just staring at each other as if they hadn't even a word to say. Arthur was close to fuming and marching off in the way he was supposed to be headed, but was unexpectedly caught off guard when the street performed released the fabric of his coat and his lips began to form words. The movement of his mouth seemed slightly off, and Arthur struggled to keep up with what he was saying - which he deemed to be quite strange considering he had nine whole years to practise and master lip reading…

Instead, the Brit arched a curious brow, staring at the man's lips the hardest he could. He could make out a few words, but it was difficult to piece them together, and so he merely linked it with the closest reason as to what the beggar could have meant. He had given him money just now, hadn't he? That must be what it was. Something like a 'thank you' of sorts.

Arthur sent him an off smile, dipped his head in gratitude, and continued to walk off.

He didn't see him on his way back.

Arthur arrived home later than he had intended that day. After his encounter with the fellow in the streets, the Brit found it more difficult to navigate his way back to his house. Not only was he exhausted by the time he got there, but pretty cold too. Apparently, wearing a few layers of clothing didn't aid him as much as he had originally hoped it would. The blond stumbled around on his front porch, trying not to tread in any seemingly deep areas of snow to avoid getting any colder than he already was.

Coming to a stop at the door, the Brit rummaged in his pockets for a key.

Where is it, where is it...?

Without looking like too much of a fool, he finally managed to find the damn thing and was quick to shove it into the door's lock, twisting the small article in the uniquely designed hole and hastily pushing it open. Once inside, he shut the door yet again and let out a loud sigh of which he himself could not hear. The heat of his home came flooding to him in a warm greeting and at no point did it ever become even somewhat overbearing. If Arthur could, he’d embrace it right then and there. Shrugging off his coat, the short blond hung it on the hanger just by his head when his fingers lost their grip of the key and - after failing to grab it mid air - had to resort to looking for it on the floor. Arthur spluttered in annoyance and reached for the shining item, however, his eyes caught sight of something else instead, and he curiously reached for a light brown envelope laying beside the metal object.

Forgetting about the key that stayed isolated in its spot on the wooden flooring, Arthur carried the envelope towards the kitchen whilst continuing to inspect it carefully on his way there. Walking into the said room, the Brit pulled out a chair, settled down, and began to slowly tear away at the paper of the enclosed letter.

Once he had it opened, Arthur slowly tipped the contents of the envelope onto the kitchen table. His eyes widened at the sight of… He reached for the stack of money, fingers flipping through each individual note. Of a little over two thousand pounds?! Clasping a hand over his mouth, the Brit hurriedly reached for the letter that had fallen on the table along with the few thousand notes.

It read:

Dear Arthur,

I’ve been saving up for over a year now… You deserve this more than I do.

Please meet Dr. Yao on Monday at 8am at your local hospital. I want this to be a surprise, so he’ll tell you all about it. Don’t you dare forget to bring that money with you.

Talk to you soon,

Scott. SK

Arthur’s head was reeling. A doctor? Why on Earth would he need to see a doctor? And what was so important that he needed to bring with him so much money? Questions were flooding his mind by the minute, and Arthur eventually realised that he felt tired and deserved some much needed rest. Oh, God, what was Scott planning…

Monday, 7:45am.

Arthur was already dressed in sub-formal attire, downing the last of his tea and internally promising himself that no, it wasn’t burning his mouth, and yes, he was running late. He should have been registered in by now, and yet here he was, an eighteen year old deaf boy, pushing the time as if he was Superman.

Grabbing his keys from the kitchen table, Arthur hurriedly pulled himself away from where he sat, almost tripping over his chair in advance and hissing a silent gasp.

Outside, a taxi waited, honking its horn every few minutes, completely oblivious to Arthur’s condition.

What seemed like an eternity later, the door to the small house’s entryway flew open and Arthur briskly made his way out, shutting it behind him. Approaching the taxi, he signed ‘sorry’ whilst holding an apologetic smile - the solemn face of the man at the wheel couldn’t seem to care any less. Entering the vehicle, the Brit handed the man a note with the location of his local hospital of which he read it over and began to drive to said place.

Arthur buckled himself in and huffed, letting his head loll to the side and gently thump against the window. He stared blankly out at his surroundings, watching tiredly as houses, leafless trees, and a few people whizzed by. Briefly, he wondered what exactly he had gotten himself into... Whatever it was, Scott had worked hard for it (a few years for goodness sake!). He must have felt very strongly about this. He shouldn’t get his hopes up though; a trip to the hospital could either mean a good thing or a bad thing, there was almost never any in-between in such situations.

They drove by a store he was very familiarised with, where he noticed a figure who was poorly dressed strumming heavily at his guitar. A noise of amusement slipped past the Brit’s lips, recalling their last encounter. The driver on the other hand, rolled his eyes at the performer and promptly muttered something under his breath. For a moment, Arthur watched in silent thoughtfulness, his brows furrowing to an extent. He was tempted to ask if the taxi driver knew anything about the beggar, but alas could not. His speech was probably clumsy, and he doubted this guy knew how to sign, so where was the point in asking?

They arrived at the hospital within roughly ten minutes, meaning Arthur had only five to get registered and have his appointment. He quickly paid the taxi driver, scribbling out another note and asking for him to wait to which the man nodded, switched off the engine, and went on his phone whilst he waited. The smaller of the two double-checked that the money provided by his eldest brother was still in his pocket before leaving the safety of his car and making his way to the hospital facility.

The building was tall, many stories high in fact, but instead of wasting time feeling intimidated, the British teenager hurried indoors and towards reception.

He approached a petite woman who adjusted her glasses when he neared the desk. Her mouth began moving, and Arthur read her lips perfectly.

”Hello sir, may I have your name please?”

Right… Arthur stared blankly for a moment and motioned his name with a flustered expression, hoping she would catch on that he could, in fact, not hear.

The lady’s mouth formed an ‘O’ and she excused herself for a moment, returning later with a plump older man who gave Arthur a slight wave and signed, “What’s your name?”

Oh, an interpreter.

For the second time that day, Arthur told them his name. ‘Ar-th-ur Ki-rk-land.’

The man proceeded to tell the woman what he read and she began typing away at her computer. Arthur’s attention was back on the man who told him to “Sign this form, please”. He took the sheet of paper handed to him and wrote down all the necessary information it asked for before handing it back and watching as the woman skimmed over his writing.

The man asked, “Who will you be seeing?”

Arthur signed, ‘Dr. Y-a-o’.

The man translated to the lady once more who sent Arthur a sickly sweet smile and motioned towards the corridor. “You’re his only patient this morning, feel free to enter to him through the first door down the corridor on the right. Thank you.”

Arthur gave her a brief, appreciative nod and made his way towards where she had motioned. The corridor was mostly empty of people, but the walls were littered with vibrant posters with some consisting of facts or encouraging people to ‘use medication’. Though the place generally looked quite sterile, Arthur had read that despite the multiple health precautions (for example the amount of hand sanitizer dispensers at every door), hospitals were actually full of bacteria. Whether that was true or not wasn’t up to him to decide however, and he doubted scientists would look into it as if to give hospitals a bad reputation.

The blond brushed some hair from his face, watching as his shoes walked out in front of him. He wondered what sort of sound they made. Was it quiet? Or loud? Did they click or did they sound muffled? Arthur furrowed his brows in thought but was soon interrupted by coming face to face with the door described to him by the secretary. Glancing around for a brief moment, he finally reached for the knob, but just as he did, the door was already pulling itself open. Arthur stumbled back in surprise, but when the door continued to open wider and reveal a man in uniform, the smaller blond found his face flushing with embarrassment. For a moment he thought the damn place was cursed.

Raising a hand, he waved a greeting and Dr. Yao (thank goodness) gestured for him to come inside. Arthur slowly entered, taking a moment to look around. There were all sorts of gadgets organised around the room, ranging from big to tiny ones, and an uncomfortable looking - seemingly adjustable - bed lying against the wall. Arthur took a seat at it and fixed his gaze on the Asian who shut the door behind him and sat at a chair in front.

The doctor pointed towards his lips and began to mouth words slowly. Arthur caught on within seconds.

“I’ll speak slowly so you can read my lips.”

Arthur nodded.

“Latest technology allows us to do something very special,” he explained, brown eyes boring into forest greens.

“Do you want to be able to hear again?”

Arthur stared, frozen to the spot. What Dr. Yao said wasn’t something someone could say so easily. Arthur had gone through a lot of trouble being unable to hear, and all of a sudden he asked such a blunt, emotional question? He frowned, getting to his feet and signing, ‘What is this?’

The doctor stood with him, stepping forward and motioning back towards the bed. “Sit down, Arthur, let me explain.”

Arthur shook his head hastily; he wouldn’t allow himself to get mocked by such a man. He probably had all the privileges one could ever wish for - and yet Arthur had been deprived of a good job just for something so little that he had been stuck with for nine years. His actions were sharp. ‘Tell me to sit down one more time-’

The doctor started to look distressed. “Please, I know it’s a lot to take in. Look, your brother went through so much to allow you to do this.”

Arthur’s expression softened to an extent.

“Do it for your family, yes?”

Family. Family… He wondered what they were doing now, whether they actually still thought about him anymore. Scott did, sure, but maybe he did all this to get Arthur off his mind and to move on. The Brit glanced down sheepishly. He didn’t have any reason to do this. He was strong as he was, and was getting along just fine, but what about all the little things? It was true, he wanted to hear his brothers’ voices now that they’d grown. He wanted to hear his own footsteps. He wanted to hear the soft breeze on a beautiful day. He wanted to hear birds singing. He wanted to hear his breathing before he slept. He wanted to hear music.

Music…

Arthur cautiously made his way back to the bed. ‘Go on,’ he signed.

Dr. Yao smiled warmly, this time taking a seat beside his patient. He placed a hand on the Brit’s shoulder. “We can do this together. We’ll bring back your hearing- wouldn’t you like that? We’ll restore it as much as we can. You’ll be one of the first people to try this out, Kirkland. What do you say?”

With a bit more of that reassuring smile and the comforting hand on his shoulder, Arthur found his head moving, nodding. He waited for a moment and slowly signed, ‘I want to hear again.’

He hadn’t expected to say that, not now, not ever, and yet here he was.

‘I want to hear again,’ he repeated, tears welling up in his eyes.

The day had come for Arthur’s surgery. Dr. Yao had repeatedly explained to him how the procedure worked and what part of the ear they would be focusing on. He mentioned that there was a low chance of something going wrong, however if something within the operation did occur, then to not worry as he would get refunded for the amount he paid to get this treatment done and they would look into the issue and possibly try again.

Arthur breathed in and out in a chaste, nervous manner. His whole body was wracking with nerves and he had no idea how to feel about the whole ordeal. On one hand, he’d regain his hearing, whereas on the other he felt anxious about doing just that. He hadn’t been able to hear for nine years. Nine years. What if his body couldn’t take it? What if he embarrassed himself bursting out into tears in front of the whole team who would work so hard on giving him something he had once thought to have permanently lost?

The door to the hospital room was gently pushed open and Arthur rose his gaze a little less steadily than he had hoped for to meet with the man who entered.

Dr. Yao smiled, a glint in his eyes. “Are you ready?”

Arthur made a noise of unease and buried his face into his hands, shaking his head violently, but a simple tap on his arm was enough to coax him out of bed and soon enough out the door.

He was going to fucking hear again and there was no turning back.

Thursday.

It was cold outside, and the streets were even more empty than they had been days prior to this. Each day was getting colder, however… And each day it was harder to hold on, harder to keep on going. Pedestrians had become a thing of the past now, rarely ever seen. Each day, he’d awake thinking ‘I wonder how much longer until I die’ rather than ‘I wonder how much longer until Christmas’. He didn’t even know if it had passed yet, or how long it would be until it did. Regarding either option, would he be alive to ever know?

His fingers were like ice, and his once tan complexion was almost as pale as snow. It became harder and harder every time to play guitar and set a performance… He’d stop thinking about what chords came next and instead how hungry he felt, how cold he was, and dear God, how lonely, too. He supposed that’s why most people would ignore him; because he kept messing up the song?

He shuddered, a cold shiver running along his spine. He wondered how many doors he’d have to knock on asking for help until he dropped down dead. Not many, perhaps. He was already halfway gone, or at least, it felt like it.

The blond slowly picked up his instrument, pulled it to his chest, and let his fingers run free. They strummed and plucked, and with each vibration that ran along his fingers, he sang a part of a song he’d made up over the years.

He didn’t know how it sounded to be honest, but hopefully it was good.

Hopefully…

A figure in the distance was emerging through the fog and he promptly shifted his empty hat forwards as if to put it on show so the other knew what to do if or when they saw it. He internally wished they had a kind enough heart to spare some change.

When they neared closer, the performer could make out their features, and he felt a heavy weight lift off his chest. He ceased his song and expectantly held out his hand, grin widening.

Arthur stood in silence, listening. It had been two days since his successful surgery and with the help of some hearing aids to enhance his hearing, he had managed to restore quite a bit of it. It was a surreal experience, and it still was. In fact, this was his first trip outside after getting such a thing done! He was even getting language classes too to help him get back on track with proper speech. But this... This was all he had never hoped for.

It was heartbreaking to see a man suffering with the same problem he had carelessly spent over two thousand on, lying in the streets near Christmas time, near death... This performer needed what he had most, and yet he still selfishly spent it on himself. Arthur shook his head slowly, a saddened smile on his face. This beggar was deaf. His singing and guitar wasn’t exactly on point, which explained his lack of money. So did his slurred movement of his mouth the first time they had spoken. He was throwing out every sign he could think of, and yet Arthur stayed oblivious, too engrossed in his own ‘problems’.

The shorter blond carefully dropped to his knees and shuffled towards the other. He signed to him, ‘What’s your name?’

The beggar signed back, a little hesitantly, ‘Al-fr-ed’.

Rummaging in his pockets for a moment, the Brit pulled out some earphones and plugged them each into Alfred’s ears, his fingers gentle and warm against the taller man’s face. ‘Listen,’ he signed.

Alfred’s expression was a clear display of confusion. Arthur didn’t blame him. Since when did the deaf use earphones? He himself would have found it ridiculous.

The shorter of the two took the end of the cord and wrapped it around the man’s finger before pulling his hand over to lay on his chest. The steady thrumming of his heart could be felt through the American’s fingertips and they both knew it.

Alfred’s eyes were gradually growing wet with tears, possibly on the verge of a breakdown, but Arthur was there, and Arthur always would be.

Because sometimes, actions spoke louder than words.

And sometimes, music wasn't enough to express the true meaning of love.

[omgbananasnailus]

You’ll Never Be Alone!! Part 3 -Daryl Dixon x Reader Fanfic-

Part One   Part Two

The next few weeks seemed to pass in a blur. We'd left the barn straight away, fearing that the noise would bring more walkers.

So I didn't really get chance to talk to anyone properly til we were back at the farmhouse that Glenn had told me about. Everyone seemed really friendly though, well I say everyone, there were a few exceptions. A man named Shane was incredibly pissed that Rick had said I could stay, saying that they were already over crowded on the farm as it was. He'd made a sexist remark before storming off in a huff. An since then hadn't said more than two words to me.

Rick had apologised straight away though and assured me that I was as welcome as everybody else.

It had thrown me a little, I tried to tell myself that it was just from the mentality of survival that was causing him to have such a disliking to me, but the way Daryl looked at me sometimes too had me thinking that maybe that wasn't the case.

The group was much larger than I'd originally thought, there was 14 of them. Rick, his wife Lori and son Carl. Carol and her daughter Sophia. Andrea, Dale, T-Dog, Glenn, Shane, Hershel, his two daughters Beth and Maggie, an Daryl. All pushed together like a weird disfuctional family. An Rick wasn't lying, everyone had there part to play.

After that, everything else had fallen into a weird semi-normal routine. Mornings I'd help Carol and Lori with chores around the farm and in the afternoons I'd help Rick, Glenn and the rest patrol the fences. Even though I wasn't the best with my knife, i wanted the practice. I wanted to be able to do my part.

The farm belonged to Hershel and his family, who Rick and the rest of his group had only met a few weeks before id made my appearance. One of Hershel's other family members, I think his name was Otis, had accidentally shot Carl. He

sadly passed away though while on a run collecting the equipment that Hershel needed in order to keep Carl alive.

An although the farmhouse was huge only Hershel and his family slept inside. We were allowed inside during the day to use the kitchen and bathroom but not during the night.

So the rest of us camped outside, which if i was honest i preferred. I loved being around people again, i really did. But i was also finding it difficult adjusting to it not being just me on my own anymore. So the space i got from sleeping in a tent helped considerably.

The many fields surrounding the farm made it possible to keep the farm and us reasonably safe. Not completely, but enough to make people relax somewhat. Regular patrolling of the fences meant we could deal with any stray walkers that had attempted to get past one of the many fences before they actually did.

When i first started patrolling the fences id make sure to not do it alone. Most of the time it was with Glenn. I liked that he liked to talk, he would tell me all about what had happened to the group since he'd first met Rick.  But recently id started going on my own, enjoying the quiet.

Which is what i was doing when i spotted Rick striding towards me wearing a frown.

"Y/N, I need you to go on a run with Daryl" Rick said as he stopped in front of me. I'd been on one or two runs previously, which i knew Rick wouldn't ask of me if he didn't trust me to a certain extent.

"Sure" I smiled although a little apprehensive about going with Daryl. We'd hadn't really spoken since the forest, an he  seemed to like his own space more than I did. "what we getting?"

"Hershel thinks Carl has an infection, he needs antibiotics" Rick said his hand on his hip. "He says there's a hospital about half a days drive away, here's the list" he handed me a rather large scrap of paper.

"The top one on the list is the antibiotic, the others are just in case you see them"

I nodded folding the paper and sliding it into my jacket pocket. "Well find what you need"

I walked back up to the farmhouse with Rick so that i could collect my bag from my tent. I always made sure to keep it full in case we needed to leave fast, so it was wasn't long before i was heading back down the drive to where Daryl was leant against his bike waiting.

"Yer ready?" He asked as he kickstarted his bike.

"Yeah" I answered not sure if he could actually hear me over the roar of the engine.

"Well get on then" he scowled

Of all the people to go on a run with it had to be Daryl didn't it. It was pretty clear he didn't like me much. i didnt know why because i hadn't given him any reason not to, well none that i was aware of.

I climbed onto the back of his bike an lightly held onto his waist, thankful that he couldn't see the flush beginning to creep across my cheeks. There was something about Daryl that made me incredibly self conscious and I didn't like it.

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

Daryl pulled into the side of the road and stopped, killing the engine.

Letting go of him i climbed off the bike with as much grace as a elephant, frowning slightly at the long stretch of road in front of us. The buildings of what i could only hope was the town just visible in the distance.

"We'll walk from here, it'll draw less attention" Daryl stated clearly seeing my confusion.

The ride here had been mostly uneventful, I say mostly because there had been an occasion just after we'd set off that id nearly fallen off. After that I'd locked my arms around Daryl's waist with my head firmly pressed into his back. Even with the vibration from the bike i could still feel him tense up when my arms went round him. But i wasn't bothered, the smell of leather and dirt calmed my nerves.

I waited while he pushed his bike into one of the nearby bushes, moving the branches to hide it from view of anyone that may pass by. He had a strong attachment to the bike, that and his crossbow. It was clear just from watching him. I didn't blame him, in a world that you had little to no personal belongings anymore, you held on with both hands when you found something that actually meant anything to you.

We walked in silence. I knew Daryl wasn't really the talking kind, well with me he wasn't and I didn't want to push it. So I was extremely surprised when he suddenly spoke.

"What happened to yer sister?"

I stopped caught off guard, causing him to turn to look at me.

"Sorry, I just heard you talking ter Carol the other day about her"

After a few seconds I carried on walking, Daryl falling into step at the side of me. "She's......dead"

"What happened?"

I looked at him unsure of if I wanted to go into detail, especially when this was the most he spoken to me since we'd met. But he'd made the effort to actually talk so I owned him an answer at least, an maybe it would help.

"We were scavenging along the highway, we'd found a stretch where most of the cars hadn't been searched so it was like Christmas.....we were careless though and spent more time there than we should have" I could feel my eyes beginning to water already. "I thought I saw something just off the road, so I went to look"

I rubbed at my eyes, hoping to wipe away any tears before they fell.

"While I gone a large group of walkers came along the road. I only knew about it when I heard her scream..... B-By the time I got back she was already dead" I couldn't hold them in any longer, an they fell down my cheeks faster than I could wipe them away.

"It's my fault, if I'd of just done what I'd promised her and stayed on the road then I'd -"

"You'd be dead too" Daryl interrupted

I knew in my heart he was right, but it didn't make it any easier. It didn't take away the feeling that i could of done something to help her.

"She was my little sister Daryl, I promised her I'd not let anything hurt her"

"How old was she?" Daryl asked his eyes on the road in front of us.

"17"

Daryl nodded slightly and i was thankful that he stayed silent. I needed time to collect myself. I'd never spoken about Jaime to anyone before and it was hard to say things out loud.

Once I'd calmed down i was surprised to see how close to the town we were now. I could see the abandoned cars scattering the road ahead. I really hoped we found what Carl needed.

"I had a brother" Daryl suddenly said breaking me from my thoughts.

"What happened?"

"The stupid son of a bitch did something while on a run and Rick had ter handcuff him to a pipe on the roof of some building" He scoffed.

I looked at him unsure of what to say, he kept his gaze on the approaching town.

"I was hunting at the time so it was a few days before Rick took me back to get him, an the stupid fucker had chopped his own hand off to get fre-" Daryl suddenly tensed.

I gave him a questioning look.

"Thought I heard voices that's all" he shrugged.

I scanned the trees around us. "Really?"

"Was nothing" He said shaking his head before setting off walking again. "Now come on"

We reached the town sooner than i thought. The hospital that Rick had mentioned was on the outskirts, so we would need to walk through the town to get it to. I wasn't really keen on the idea, but Daryl seemed fine with it.

Weapons at the ready we started through the street, scanning our surroundings as we went. There were so many shops that walkers could be lurking in so i understood why Daryl hadn't wanted to bring the bike. Most of them looked empty, but there were definitely a few things that would of been useful back at the farm if only we'd of brought the truck instead.

"Daryl look!" I said pointing to the boarded up Drugstore. "Maybe they have what we need in there"

The chances were slim but it was worth a shot. If what we needed was there then we wouldn't need to venture any further. An the sooner we got the antibiotics back the sooner Carl could start taking them.

Daryl went in first to check for walkers with me following closely behind much to Daryl's annoyance, too impatient to wait outside like he'd said.

"Thought i told you to stay outside" Daryl scolded.

"I thought that was just a suggestion" I smiled back letting him know i was joking.

Once we'd decided the store was safe we went to work looking for the stuff on the list. It had clearly already been ransacked, with just a few boxes actually left on the shelves, all the rest were now scattered along floor. Each box i picked up i hoped would be the one i was looking for, and each time my heart sank a little bit when it wasn't.

I hoped Daryl was having more luck than me.

A gun shot rang out causing me to jump slightly, dropping the box that was in my hand.

"She's around here somewhere" My eyes shot to the door, there was someone moving outside it. Daryl suddenly appeared beside me, his finger to his lips telling me to keep quite. I nodded in understanding.

Grabbing my arm he pulled me with him to a door at back of the room. Quickly opening it he pushed me inside the small storage cupboard, following straight away pulling the door closed behind himself.

The cupboard was tiny and the only light came from the small crack at the bottom of the door, which illuminated nothing. But i didnt need light to know how close Daryl was stood in front of me, his steady breathing tickled my face an sent shivers down my spine. I scolded myself for letting him have this kind of effect on me.

The store door bell rang signalling that someone or something had entered the store. It pulled me from my thoughts as I remembered why we were in the cupboard to start off with.

"Are you sure she came in here?" My breathing hitched , were they talking about me?

"No, but we've checked all the other shops"

The sound of shuffling boxes could be heard as they maneuvered around the fallen medication.

"But dude did you not see her boyfriend with the crossbow"

"Jared.....Are you saying I couldn't win against some pussy with a crossbow"

It fell silent and I really hoped that they'd given up.

"Why do you want her anyway?"

I closed my eyes and tried to shut out their conversation.

"I just do........it's a complete sausage fest back at the camp, and she will make for a welcome distraction"

I could feel Daryl tense up, feeling for his arm I grabbed hold of his wrist. I didn't want him doing anything stupid.

"Come on man, I'm not spending all day looking for some girl just so you can get your end away"

The voices were getting closer, I held my breath preying that they wouldn't look in our cupboard. We were too enclosed to be able to do much damage with our weapons.

I didn't think Daryl was the kind of person who would let them take me especially after hearing them talk, but we had no idea how many of them there were and I didn't want Daryl getting hurt because of me.

"Fine"

An as quick as that the door bell rang again and the voices disappeared.

We stood in silence, giving it a while before actually leaving the cupboard just in case they were still around.

"Why did yer do that?" Daryl asked shaking his wrist out of my grasp as soon as we were out.

I'd forgotten I'd still been holding it, causing a blush to creep along my cheeks.

"Sorry, I was worried you'd do something and get yourself hurt"

"They'd of deserved everything they got" he scowled wandering off to the front of the store.

"How did they know we were even here?" I asked following.

Daryl shrugged "I don't know, but we're not waiting around to find out!"

[georgianalanger-blog]

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[emptyhomecomings-blog]

And so it began.

The interior was illuminated by a soft blue, the leather seats almost glowing a shade of purple that seemed somewhat magical. The entire space became a sanctuary for me, a place where I could remain hidden and safe. The only time that it was disturbed was when I checked my phone - which was growing in frequency - or when the driver alerted me of the time left until our destination. /My/ destination.  

 “Fifteen minutes Mr. Michaels,” the older man stated.

 A sliver of time compared to the hours I had ahead of me. My palms were sticky and warm, the likes of which made me feel even more unsure. I rubbed them down my thighs, hoping the soft cashmere of my slacks would soak in the moisture. What was I, fifteen? I laughed then, imagining myself twenty years ago in this same position. I would have thrown up at the thought, blanched at any of the things I was about to do.

 My fingers trembled as I checked my tie in the mirror that was helpfully attached to the ceiling. The contrasting pale pink against charcoal gray shirt was lovely, whoever picked this out surely paid attention to detail. I imagined her: Tall, lithe and all angles. Her breasts high and pert, hidden behind leather or maybe lace. No, lace would be too soft. It was then that I wondered about the mirror, why it was on the ceiling and then a heat spread throughout my body. Really Devin? You know exactly why it is there. Blood rushed to my cock, making it hard, the thick flesh straining to be released from the supple fabric.

 “We are here, Mr. Michaels. Please wait until the door is opened and have a pleasant evening,” the driver said. His tone had an edge to it. Judgemental? Knowing? I wasn’t sure but I was ready to come out of my skin. I closed my eyes and sighed. I could do this. I would do this. It was the only way.

  The next hour was a blur. I breezed through the seemingly endless line of people waiting to get in, to get past the two large males who kept the doors well guarded. I had no idea where or what but the display inside was staggering. Blue and red lights lit up a dance floor, the hypnotic sway of bodies that went with the heavy bass that filled up the space perfectly. Even with the noise I could hear my pulse racing. I was escorted by a female who looked nothing like what I dreamed up. Her hair was long curls of gold, bouncing the same way her round tits did when she walked. Kitten heels clicked as her ass swayed. She said nothing as she led me through what I assumed to be some upscale club. New York City was famous for them.

 I found myself alone upstairs, away from the music, hidden in a room that could double for a fancy powder room. I sat on the plush stool because my legs wouldn’t stop shaking. What have I gotten myself into? I replayed the words Markus used to get me to go along with this crazy ass plan. ‘Devin, man. Five grand for a few hours. You look pretty, follow the rules and give them what they want. No lasting scars, bud.’  I had known Markus since I arrived in the city, he put me to work doing odds and ends and gave me a roof over my head. I trusted him.

 The door opened and blondie was back. “Put this on and follow me,” she mewled. I gaped for a moment at the lace blindfold. Her perfect red pout almost smirked when she saw the apprehension on my face. “You’ll still be able to see, handsome. Put it on.” I did. It fit over my eyes and nose, tying behind my head in a firm bow. It was tricky with trembling fingers but I managed.

 I felt ridiculous with the feminine mask but I kept up with my escort, trailing behind and watching everything around me. We went up another set of stairs and through a room that was similar to the one I waited in. My fingers tapped against my leg whenever we stopped, gut flipping as if I hadn’t eaten in weeks. Finally I broke the silence, “where are we going?” My question lingered unanswered, we just kept moving until I was sure we were on at least the fifth floor.

 “Put your phone and anything else here,” the blonde pointed to a row of lockers. Some had a key in the lock and some did not, “you will lock it and take the key with you. Have you signed the waiver?” I was processing as fast as my brain would allow and I obviously looked confused because she continued on. “The email, Mr. Michaels. It was sent prior to you being picked up. You should have already submitted it,” she sighed. “Take a look, it must be done before you enter.” I shrugged and took out my phone. I had no idea what she was talking about but there in my inbox sat a message from Ingrid Leavenson with Waiver as the subject.  When I hit open a flood of words covered my screen. Bodily harm. Release of liability. Nondisclosure. Safe word. I read the document over and over. I swallowed and kept thinking about the five grand. It would be enough to get me out of here, to continue my search for her. Blondie cleared her throat. Fuck. I signed my name electronically and hit send. Time to nut up or shut up, besides how much bodily harm could one female inflict.

 I knew I’d regret that remark the moment I’d thought it. I was standing in the middle of a room, a good sized room with lots of interesting furniture and Ingrid. It didn’t take long to put two and two together. She sent the email, she was my escort and now she was going to have her way with me. Not that I minded. I tilted my head as she set out several items that were shadowed by the dim lighting. While her back was to me I took in my surroundings: Dark walls that shimmered in the glow of recessed lighting along the floor. It made the room seem like a cave. There was a pulley system across the ceiling, chains and wire all intersecting. Along the back wall were cabinets and drawers, which Ingrid was fussing with, what looked to be lockers but really just more cabinets. She grabbed something that reminded me of a horse crop but she put it down before I could really make it out. There was a table, a bench and what looked like a pummel horse for midgets. I shifted from foot to foot and noticed the gentle give to the floor, like it was padded. What the hell was this place?

  What passed for a chuckle left my lips as my own imagination ran wild with scenarios. She was going to go all dominatrix on me. It was hard to picture the soft curved Ingrid as a whip wielding badass but whatever floated her boat. I served two tours of duty and could handle a few rounds with whatever she had in store. Or at least I kept telling myself that. It wasn’t the pain that bothered me it was the unknown. I was the kid who hated surprises, hated birthday and Christmas gifts because it made me anxious to open them in front of people. I knew what I was doing, when I was doing it and where, at all times. This was so far out of my box that I couldn’t even see the fucking box anymore.

 “Take off your jacket and hang it behind you on the first hook, Mr. Michaels.” she asked and I complied.

 “Shoes and sock next. Put them under your jacket.” I narrowed my eyes at Ingrid but complied. I didn’t like how exposed that made me feel. It shouldn’t. It was bare feet for Christ sake. I still had on my slacks, the shirt that matched in color and pale pink tie. Let’s not forget the manly lace blindfold either.

 “Well done. What is your safe word, Mr. Michaels?” She asked while staring right at me.

 “Canary?” I replied. Where in the hell that came from I didn’t know, it was out before I could even stop myself. Her widened eyes told me that wasn’t expected on her side either.

 “Very well,” she said, “if at any time during the session you want everything to stop, you say canary.” Her brilliant blue eyes narrowed onto mine and she stepped closer. “But that also brings all of this to a stop, you will leave and not ever return. It is a definite end, a full stop, understood?”

 I nodded because lets face it, I was way out of my league here. I mouthed the word a few times to get used to it, my body responding to her, to all of this with arousal. I felt thick in my slacks, skin tingling where exposed and heart racing.

 “I want to hear an answer, Mr. Michaels.”

 “Yes-”, I swallowed, “Ma’am.”

 She laughed. It was a beautifully scary sound. “Oh no, Mr. Michaels, you can call me Ingrid. You aren’t for me, handsome.” She winked. WINKED. As if it were possible, my cock swelled even more. It leaked. The lick of fear was delicious and I found myself craving more.