#like wait for me to flirt back a LITTLE before bringing in the double entendres or whatever

[lilnasxvevo]

I love Wylde Flowers and I love that they want to let new players know that Amira is a lesbian as fast as possible but there’s just gotta be a better way to establish that than the only doctor on the island making a pass at the character you play like immediately after you move there.

I’m not the only person uncomfortable with this before you think I’m handwringing for no reason. Your first play through you’re like “Oh cool, this lady likes ladies” and then the next play through you’re like “HEY. INAPPROPRIATE”

[kaciidubs]

For the Kids

I believe you used to be 🤍 nonnie, I remember seeing that emoji around~ I'm glad you're back! There won't be much mention of medical stuff because I'm nowhere close to being a nurse, but I hope this is what you were looking for, nonnie! ❣ Summary: This visit was for the kids, so why did Chris find himself vying for a Pediatric nurse's attention? ❣  ❣ Word Count: 1.9k ❣ Warnings: No medical terms, Idol! AU, Pediatric Nurse! Reader, fluff, slight humor, flirting, open ended ❣  ❣ Female! Reader | You/Your pronouns ❣  ❣ Additional Tags: Chan is referred to as Mr. Bang, Chris, and Christopher, Reader is referred to as Beautiful, lightly edited ❣ Stray Kids Masterlist ❣ General Masterlist

“I’ll let the nurse guiding you know that you've arrived, please wait here.” 

Chris nodded enthusiastically as the nurse working behind the front desk turned away to grab a phone, turning his attention to listen to his manager and a few Skijigi discussing the schedule for the day.

 This event was something the members had looked forward to ever since they were allowed to add one more Stay-centered event to their log of the year; the day they ventured out to meet hospitalized children Stays to give them an experience they wouldn't get to see naturally. 

He'd decided to show up early in hopes of getting to meet the kids who weren’t able to make the time bracket due to an appointment or operation - the rest of the members scheduled to show up within the next hour and a half, according to his manager.

“Mr. Bang?”

He turned toward the unfamiliar voice, and the equally unfamiliar use of his last name, only to feel as if his world had gone into slow motion.

Walking up to him was a nurse, a fair assessment judging by the scrubs you wore, with a smile that made his heart skip a beat - part of him wondered if he’d have to check himself into a hospital based on his reaction alone; and when you introduced yourself he swore he heard bells ringing, your name suddenly becoming his favorite sound.

“Welcome to Seoul Mercy Hospital, I’ll be one of the nurses working with you guys today.”

“Hi,” smiling in earnest, he cleared his throat, his posture straightening ever so slightly,  “and just Chris is fine, ‘Mr. Bang’ feels too formal, you know?”

Your smile grew, a small laugh floating through you, “Is ‘Chan’ too formal, too?”

“No, no, Chan is perfectly fine, too - you can call me whatever you’d like.”

Chris tried his best to ignore how suggestive the sentence sounded, but judging from the way you pressed your lips together, you’d already caught the unintentional double entendre.

“Okay, Chris,” a glimmer of humor sparkled in your eyes, teasing and warm - comfortable, “if you’ll follow me, I can give you a quick tour of the area you’ll be using today before we go see the kids.”

The tour was short, yet fulfilling; the brisk walk of the hall bringing him to the play room booked for them to use decorated in Skzoo memorabilia with the life size standees wearing makeshift doctor outfits - there was even a table that stretched along a wall filled with Skzoo plushies and gift bags undoubtedly prepared by Skijigi.

“They’re so cute!” He squealed happily, petting WolfChan- Doctor WolfChan’s head as if he were a real dog, “Do the kids have any idea of what’s happening?”

“Well, of course they know that Stray Kids are coming to the hospital, but we haven’t told them how the whole afternoon will go just yet - we’d like to keep some things a secret, you know?” You gently caressed the soft fur of the Dwaekki standee, gazing at the decorated room with a fondness in your eyes, “This really means the world to them, and we tried our best to make it as grand as possible.”

A warm feeling settled in Chris’s chest, and he had to take a quick breath to dispel the heat from warming the rest of his body in turn. “If that’s the case, I hope that we can help make their day just a little bit brighter - and, hopefully, the nurses’ day too.”

You smiled, catching his eyes, “Trust me, you’re way ahead on that goal.”

It wasn’t long until the rest of the members began to show up, everyone slowly filling the break room specifically reserved for their visit while managers and nurses coordinated bringing the kids into the Skzoo Hospital before revealing their bigger surprise.

Being one of the lead pediatric nurses on duty, you did your part in ushering the line of children from their rooms and into the playroom - catching a glance of a certain leader as he sneakily peeked through the crack of the break room’s door, watching as the little kids spoke excitedly amongst themselves.

Soon the room was filled with children excitedly taking in the decorations and standees, and after a brief moment of gathering and pep-talking from your coworkers, the grand reveal commenced - the eight idols entering the room to excited cheers and applause. Managers ensured the small recording crew caught every reaction and the surprise performance the boys had prepared, before your shift lead announced that the members would be splitting into groups to play and spend time with the kids in Skzoo Hospital.

From small tables arranged for arts and crafts to a controlled space for duck, duck, goose, the activities were enough to keep both the children and the kids irrevocably entertained.

Chris was having a riveting conversation with one of the children at the art station about the best color to draw with when he felt a tug at his shirt, turning his head to see a little girl - who’d happily introduced herself as Narae - holding a sheet of paper with a smile as bright as the sun.

“Wanna see my drawing?”

He smiled at her small, excited little bounces and nodded, “Of course! What is it?”

Turning her paper around, tiny fingers pointed to the colorful figures on the page, “This is me and Leebit picking flowers, I have a yellow flower because it’s my favorite color, and over here is PuppyM wearing a flower crown- Oh, and here is Nurse Y/n having a picnic with WolfChan! She’s my favorite nurse, and he’s her favorite Skzoo, so I drew them together!”

The innocent mention of his representative plush being your favorite sent his heart rate skyrocketing, and he could feel a sheepish blush beginning to take over his ears as he studied the drawing.

“She says he has a cute tail, but I think Leebit’s tail is cuter because it’s fluffy like a bunny,” Narae mumbled, turning her paper around as if inspecting it. “My friend says Bbokari has a cuter tail, but chickens don’t have tails! They have chicken butts!”

Stifling a laugh, he grinned, “You know what? You should go ask Felix if Bbokari has a tail or a chicken butt, he knows all about him.”

She gave him a quick nod before rushing off toward the dancer, determined to get her point proven, leaving Chris to grapple with this newfound knowledge; picking up a crayon and a piece of paper to draw with the children around him.

Eventually the little meet and greet came to an end, the boys handing out the small gift bags to the children who were able to make the event while some of the kids gifted their drawings to the members in return.

With a chorus of ‘thank you’s and well wishes, you led the idol group back to the break room while your coworkers busied themselves with organizing the children to be ushered back into their rooms for the evening.

“I’m never going to let you live down the fact that you actually lost at duck, duck, goose to a kid, Felix,” Seungmin laughed mockingly, the blond’s demise putting a glittering smile on his face.

“Hey! Dohyeon is really fast for his age, okay? I wasn’t going to try to beat a child at a silly little game!”

“I would,” Minho hummed as he passed by the duo, grabbing a bottle of water from the small refreshments table, “teach them early - life isn’t fair.”

“Hyung!”

Chris let out a heavy sigh as the chaos of his members slowly grew, though his anguish was quickly curbed by the sound of your laughter, poorly hidden behind your hand.

Making his way over to you, he nodded his head toward his friends, “I’m sorry about them.”

You waved his apology off with your hand, shaking your head, “Don’t be, that just means you guys had fun - I’m sure the children did too, I haven’t seen their faces light up like that in a while.”

“Yeah? Well, I’m glad we were able to make their day a bit more special.”

His voice was soft, earnest with a sparkle in his eyes and you felt a small flutter float through you as you hummed in affirmation. 

“And a few of the nurses, too, it’s not often that we get visitors like you guys who have the time to come by and do little things like this, it means a lot to us.”

“You know,” he hummed, leaning his shoulder against the wall, “I learned something interesting while talking to one of the kids today.”

Raising an eyebrow, you couldn’t help the fleeting sense of worry tug at your psyche from his curious tone. “Did you? And what would that be, Chris?”

“Well, let’s just say, if you want anything WolfChan themed, I’d be more than happy to get it for you.” A smug smirk began to tug at his lips, his voice lowering to a volume only you could catch, “And, if he were real, I think you’d be his favorite, too.”

Your eyes widened a fraction as a wave of embarrassment washed over you, though you recovered with narrowed eyes, “Which one of those rascals told you that?”

“Hey - my lips are sealed!” He chuckled, holding his hands up in moc defense, though the playful shine in his eyes remained. “I’m just the messenger here.”

Nodding slowly, you pursed your lips in thought, “Alright, then what about you?”

“What about me?”

“Well, since you’re real and WolfChan isn’t,” your voice trailed off as you tilted your head inquisitively, “am I your favorite?”

You weren’t sure where the sudden burst of confidence came from, but he’d started the teasing act first, so it was only fair that you played with him at his own game.

Chris bristled at the sudden question, his posture straightening just a bit as his eyes searched yours for any sign of encouragement, a warmth setting over him as the corner of your lip ticked up in challenge.

“My favorite, hm?” He pondered for a moment, tapping his chin before glancing at you with a sparkle that had your heart fluttering, “I’d say there’s no contest, but I’d rather have more time to really figure it out, you know?”

“Is that a proposition, Christopher?”

“It’s a promise, if you’d let me.”

Stepping forward just an inch, you couldn’t fight the smile working its way onto your lips, “I would, but I don’t like when people can’t fulfill their promises.”

“Then it’s a good thing I don’t plan on breaking this one.” He murmured as he leaned forward the same amount, though his entire being begged to close the distance to feel your lips on his. “How about it then, beautiful?”

“Chan hyung! We’ve gotta go soon!”

Your heart sunk at the warning call, looking at him before giving a firm nod, “It’s a deal, but-”

“Don’t worry,” digging into his pocket, he pulled out a neatly folded piece of paper before slyly sliding it into your hand, “we’ll figure out the details, yeah? Patient-nurse confidentiality, and all that.”

Giggling, you tried to ignore the way his hand felt in yours, melting at the warmth he radiated, “Of course, completely confidential.”

He grinned, letting his hand slip from yours he ducked his head in a silent goodbye, “See you later?”

“See you soon.” You reassured him with a glittering smile, watching as he reunited with the rest of his members and management team and joining them in whatever discussion they were wrapping up with.

Taking the chance to unfold the paper he gave to you, your eyes quickly read the numbers neatly scribbled in blue crayon, followed by a cute doodle of WolfChan’s face and a short message.

‘P.S. I think you have a cute butt, too - Chris’

✧. ┊Tagged lovelies: @having-an-internal-crisis-rn, @midnightfrog625, @anyhow-everything, @bangchanbabygirlx, @sweetracha, @nightimescapes , @caitlyn98s , @ch4nn13luv , @ihrtlix , @jeonjungkookenthusiast1997 , @maximumkillshot , @y-ur--i , @acker-night , @dreamescapeswriting , @specialstay , @s00buwu , @tinyelfperson , @jj-stay , @katsukis1wife , @inlovewithmusician , @keen-li , @armystay89 , @main-character0 , @vampcharxter , @ddyskz , @prettymiye0n , @bbgnyx , @bahng-chrizz , @milknhoneyracha , @hann1bee , @palindrome969 , @newhope8 , @luminouskalopsia , @kpopsstuffs , @starquokka , @wolfs-howling , @laylasbunbunny , @zaethefangirl, @chxnb97, @4-chan-inpadella , @butterflydemons ,

✧. ┊If your username is in bold italics that means tumblr won't let me tag you. If you’d like to be added to the taglist, fill out this form!

[f1-disaster-bi]

helloooo!! from the secret pining prompts list “I'll give you a ride, don't worry." for wag lando au? perhaps when they first start dming and flirting and texting and lando says something (not creative enough to imagine what tho!) and max responds w that tryna be smooth and flirty and bc double entendre but lando can’t take him seriously but is also incredibly so charmed by max.

also, but do you have plans/want to write any pre-proposal lando n max wag au? they r so cute i’d love to see more of their story before the proposal that you described in the fic!!! i have endless thoughts about their love in it

Oooo I love this, and I would love to write more about them before the proposal because you bet Lando would be a little wary about this famous F1 driver slipping into his Insta DMs with the grace of a newborn foal and Lando finding him ridiculous but so cute 🥺

"You should come to Monaco" The invitation makes Lando almost drive off the track, making him curse as Max laughs at him over the phone. His laughter making Lando's chest flutter and he's just glad his camera is off during this race because Max can't see him blush. He's meant to be focusing on this track. He has a sim racing tournament in two days, and Lando wants to win it. He always wants to win the various gaming tournaments they enter, but he was especially passionate about sim racing. It was how Max and him met afterall. The other had heard his name mentioned by someone from Redline and checked out his streams. Max wouldn't admit how long he waited between finding out about him before he slid into his DMs on Instagram, but Lando was glad that he did. He wasn't exactly sure where they were going with this relationship, if they could call it that, but Lando was tempted to see where it led. "Oh? Going to fly me out and parade me around?", Lando teased, knowing that that was literally Max's worst nightmare. Before they had become close, he would have assumed that being an F1 at the top of their game came with a personality that loved being seen but not Max. Max preferred to be at home with his cats, playing sim racing of COD with friends. He liked to work out on his balcony and only do the gym when his trainer grumbled at him. He went clubbing with friends, but always ended up calling Lando tipsy before two am to talk to him. Max was an enigma in some ways, and Lando was excited with every new piece of him that he discovered. "Maybe I will", Max hummed lowly on the other end of the phone, "Get you all dressed up and drive you around. Show you off the world" The thought makes Lando shiver as he ends his lap. It's not his best time, but he's distracted. He'd challenge anyone to try be sane and do a personal best when Max Verstappen was flirting with them. "Seriously, though, you should come to Monaco", Max offered again, sounding a little more serious, "Or maybe I could come to you? You can show me around your sleepy town and introduce me to your nosy neighbour that stole your plant" "Yeah? You want to come here and drive around in my ten year old shitty little Nissan Micra?", Lando teased but his heart was racing because god did he want to just drop everything and run to Monaco, "I don't think you'd like that ride very much Mister Sports Car owner" He wanted to be a little reckless and jump into this. He wanted to know what it'd be like to hug Max tight and hear his laughter in person. He wanted to curl up on that massive couch in Max's apartment and watch movies curled together with the cats instead of trying to get their streaming services to link up between Monaco and England for their 'not really a date' date nights. "I'll give you a ride, don't worry", Max flirted easily, making Lando choke back a nose, "But of course I'd ride in your Micra, Betsy is a pretty girl. I'm sure we could get some real speed out of her if we tried" That had Lando cackling. He was fully doubled over, laughing hard enough to bring himself to tears beause the idea of Max sitting in his little blue Micra, trying to get it to go more than speed limit without a complaint was hilarious. He could hear Max laughing too. It sounded soft and fond and Lando ached with want. When he finally stopped laughing, Lando went a little quiet for a moment before he whispered a reply softly. "Max, I'd really like to come to Monaco to see you" He could hear the smile on Max's face without even seeing it. "Then it's a date, Dropje"

[write-orflight]

Light the Lamp: Chapter 1

**Gif Not Mine**

Prev -  Next

Pairings: Bucky Barnes X Reader (Friends to Lovers, College/Hockey AU

Rating: M

Words: 2.2K

Warnings:  College kids being college kids, drinking, swearing, talk of sex(No smut yet but will be)

Request: OPEN/CLOSED

Summary:  Love and Hockey were kind of the same, everyone’s just rushing to score. So why couldn’t you?

A.N Summary bad but I literally couldn’t focus on writing anything else until I finished at least the first chapter of this. let me know what you think, Message/reply/inbox to be tagged.

  Chapter 1: 1st Quarter

Hockey wasn’t the sport Bucky wanted to play originally. He wanted to play baseball like his old man but when Steve decided he wanted to take ice skating lessons, he made Bucky tag along so he wouldn’t be the only boy in the class. Soon, they found themselves recruited in the junior rec hockey team and had been playing together ever since. It wasn’t a surprise that when recruitment came around that school’s were trying to pick up both of them. People knew better than to separate Cap from the Winter Soldier. Steve’s nickname was easy to figure out. He had a natural authoritative nature that made him the Captain of almost every team he played on. You never knew why they called Bucky the Winter Soldier until you played against him. Bucky was like an assassin on the ice. While everyone was focused on Steve in Center, Bucky was on left wing scoring the goal before you knew what hit you. So both of them getting recruited to play for the Avengers at Wilmington University wasn’t surprising. 

Meeting you was. 

At first, it was a sort of form of hazing. When they were starting their Freshman year so was the Coach’s daughter. He had asked senior members of the team to ‘keep an eye on her’ and make sure she didn’t get herself into any trouble. The seniors’ thinking that was lame, were more than happy to pass the task off to the two eager freshmen trying to make a name for themselves. So that’s how it started, The two boys walking you to classes and home from the library late at night, much to your demise. 

“I should’ve known my dad was going to do something like this.” You complained when you saw the two boys waiting outside your dorm the first week of classes. “Thanks for coming. But you can tell my dad that I’m not going to be the freak being escorted by hockey jocks everyday.” 

“No can do, Doll.” Bucky says. “We leave you, we’re doing drills the rest of practice.” 

“Doll? What’re you? A 40s newscaster?” You say, with an annoyed expression walking passed the boys who just followed suit behind you. “Ugh, this is such bullshit. He literally begged me to go to Wilmington and promised I’d be able to have a ‘normal college experience’. What about this is fucking normal?”  

“I know it’s less than ideal but hey, we can make the best out of this.” Steve smiles. “I’m Steve, by the way.” He says extending a hand. 

You shake it. You couldn’t blame them for your dad not trusting you. “Y/N. You?” You asked the other boy next to you. 

“Bucky.” He provides. 

“Bucky?” You question. 

“Well, it’s James but my friends call me Bucky.” 

“And that’s what we are? Friends?” You ask. 

“Might as well be, since we’ll be seeing each other a lot this semester.” 

And that’s how your semi-unconventional friendship started. Pretty soon, even though your dad had eased up on the 24-hour watch, per your mom's request, you still found yourself walking and getting coffee with the two in the mornings. Even, found yourself waiting in the rinks watching practices so you could hang out afterwards and that became your life for the next two years. Now the three of you we’re entering your Junior year of college. Steve was right back in his title role of Captain, Bucky was now first string Left Wing and you were… still watching from the bleachers. You didn’t mind though, you grew to love the sport due to it being your dad’s profession. Hell, you were on skates before you could even walk. But you never found yourself on the women’s team, Hockey wasn’t something you really wanted to do. You still supported the girls team though, which is why you found yourself watching their practices too. 

“Hey, Y/N!” Carol said, skating to the end of the rink where you were sitting next to her girlfriend, Maria. A position you often found yourself in, entertaining player’s girlfriends while they practiced. Maria was cool though, at least you knew about the sport. 

“Hey, Marvel.” You called her by her nickname. Thing about Hockey is everyone was called by their nicknames. 

“You going to the Sigma Pi party later?” She asks. 

“Uh, no one told me about it.” You say, awkwardly. 

“I’m telling you now.” Carol says like it's obvious. “You never go out anymore and I refuse to let you become a cat lady before you turn 25. Come over ours at 7, we’ll pregame and head over at 9. What do you say?” 

“Fine, I’ll come.” You say. 

“Great!” Carol says, pumping a fist before signalling her girlfriend to come closer to the rink. You look away as they kiss. Couples made you uneasy, especially hockey couples. You wanted that more than anything, for your guy to skate up to the gate just to sneak a kiss from you. Not that dating anyone from the team was even an option with you dad coaching. The team saw you as a little sister and if anyone was caught even looking at you in any way, their ass was grass by either your dad or Bucky, who’d become protective of you over the years. 

“Marvel, stop flirting with your girlfriend and GET BACK ON THE ICE!” You heard your dad scream. 

“Sorry, Couch!” She called. “Sorry, baby i’ve gotta jet. Y/N, don’t forget. 7 o’clock!” She says before skating off. 

“I won’t!” You call after her. 

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

You can’t help but look at yourself in the mirror awkwardly at the tight Satin dress your roommate, Wanda practically forced you in. You were just going to wear a sweater and jeans, your regular wardrobe but Wanda insisted everyone had seen you in that and what they haven’t seen is you in a dress. Especially, with your new body, you had gotten over the summer working at a sports camp. Who knew running after kids would be such a great form of exercise? 

Wanda also did your makeup, something you didn’t typically wear, giving you a natural glow eye, a layer of mascara, and sticky gloss that made your look ‘dewy’ as Wanda described it. You tried to keep your hair in the bun but Wanda insisted you keep your hair down. Saying it made you look hotter, you shrugged knowing you’d have to take her word for it. 

The two of you made your way to Carol and Maria’s apartment. Carol swung the door open and looked at you in surprise. “Woah, Ice Baby, you clean up nice.” 

“Don’t start, Marvel. And you know how I feel about being called that.” You hated the nickname but since you were the coach’s daughter and you stuck around the rink any chance you got, The seniors had started calling you Ice Baby your freshman year and the nickname unfortunately stuck long after they had gone. 

“Right, sorry, I always forget.” Carol said moving out the way for the two of you to come in. 

The four of you drink and play games until it’s time to head to the party. You’ve got a pretty strong buzz going as you enter the party and you regret the strappy heels Maria made you borrow before leaving. You’re sitting in the corner when someone comes to sit way too close to you. You look up to see Brock Rumlow, or Rum as the team liked to call him. 

“I almost didn’t recognize you, Ice Baby. You look good.” 

“My name is Y/N but thank you.” You say, annoyed. 

He holds his hands up in mock surrender “I forgot you hate that nickname. Let me bring you a drink to make up for it. What you want.” 

“Rum and coke, please.” 

“Oh, so you like Rum?” He says, obvious double entendre hanging off his tongue. 

“The drink? Yes.” 

“You’ll like the man soon enough.” He winks, smirking at the flush that spreads across your cheeks. 

The two of you spend the night like that. He brings you drinks and shamelessly flirts with you as you get drunker and drunker. The two of you even dance for a bit in the sea of grinding bodies. Soon you’re telling him a story and a hand drifts to your leg. You turn and he’s much closer to your face than you thought he was. 

“Wanna get out of here?” He asks. You nod but before you can even stand, Bucky is there towering over Brock.

“You can leave, Brock. But I’m taking Y/N home.” He says. 

Brock rolls his eyes. “Forgot you had a Winter Soldier guard dog. No worries, dude. I’m leaving anyway.” He says, before turning to you. “You’ve got my number, call me if you wanna hang this week.” He says, nodding to Bucky before walking away. 

“Ugh, Bucky. What was that for?” You whine, drunkenly. 

“You’re drunk. I’m taking you home.” Bucky says. “Come on, stand up.” 

You shakingly get up and Buck is there immediately under your arm, his arm around your waist helping you walk out. 

The cold breeze hits you as soon as you step foot out the party and take the long trek home. 

“I think I drank too much.” You point out. 

“You think, kid?” Bucky says. “You’re lucky, I was here meeting Sharon otherwise you would’ve been shit out of luck.” 

“Brock would’ve taken me home.” 

“Brock’s a lowlife. Don’t worry about him, I’ve got you.” 

You sigh. “Sorry for ruining your night with your girlfriend.” 

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll call her when I make sure you get home so if you could pick up the pace.” 

“My feet hurt.” You complain. 

“Yea, I bet. God, when did you start wearing heels, Doll?” 

“I wanted to look good tonight.” You sigh. 

“You always look good.” 

“Fine, I wanted to look hot.” You provide. “For once, I wanted to be the one guys paid attention to at parties.” 

“You can be yourself for that, Y/N.” Bucky says. “You’re a catch.” 

“If I was, someone would’ve fucked me by now.” You drunkenly admit. That makes Bucky double-take. “I mean, think about it? 3 years into my college career, I turn 21 in a couple months and still it's where no man’s gone before down there.” 

“Y/N, are you saying you’re--” 

“A virgin? Yea, Bucky catch up.” You groan at the pain in your feet. Bucky looks and takes sympathy on you. 

“Here take off your shoes.” He says, toeing his off as well and sliding them over to you. 

“You’re just going to walk barefoot?” You ask, putting on the shoes, holding your heels in your hand. 

“Better than you walking barefoot.” He shrugs. 

“Anyway, I decided over the summer that maybe I was putting too much thought into it. I mean almost everyone loses their virginity in high school and it's never good, no one ever says their first time was good. I just thought maybe I should just, you know, get it over with.” You slur. “Which is what I was trying to do until you chased my date away. God, you always do that, Bucky.” 

“I’m not fighting with you while you’re drunk.” Bucky says, trying to get you to drop the subject but you persist. 

“Every time I try to talk to a guy, you butt in--” 

“Maybe I wouldn’t butt in if you picked the right guys for you.” 

“There’s nothing wrong with the guys I pick! You’re just a cockblock.” 

“That’s not true.” 

“Yea what about Charles? He asked me on a date freshman year and took it back not even an hour later. I had to beg Steve to tell me why and it turned out that you threatened him if he even thought about going out with me.” 

“Y/N, you had just turned 18 and X was a 24 year old senior! I didn’t trust how he was just waiting. So yea, I told him to fuck off. And Rum is an asshole who can’t get a girl to sleep with him unless they’re shitfaced. So yea, I told him to fuck off.” Bucky exclaims as the two of you make it up the stairs to your apartment. “Y/N, you’ll find someone right for you and that right person will make your first time special. I just want you to find someone who’ll make you happy.” 

“And I just want you to remember for next time that if you want to tell a girl who she can and can’t fuck, you have Sharon for that. Not me.” You said, taking off the shoes as you arrived at your front door. 

“Y/N, wait--” You hear him say but you don’t care, you slam the door in his face regardless. 

Who did Bucky think he was? Sure, he was your best friend but so was Steve and he’s not nearly as protective as Bucky was. You honestly couldn’t tell who was worse at this point, your dad or Bucky. You loved both of them but they had the fatal flaw of forgetting you weren’t a kid. You were a woman, a woman with needs. And one particular need you needed to get rid of.   

So you picked up your phone and called Brock. Bucky couldn’t be right about everything.

Taglist: @buckybarneshairpullingkink @riverofcrestmont @babymango-writes @astralsaf @gabi-socio @hereforalongtime512​

[vee-double-u]

"want some whipped cream with that?”

pairing: kei tsukishima x baker!reader smut

summary: tsukki makes a trip to his local bakery with a craving for his favourite strawberry shortcakes in town. he finds something else that’s sweet to satisfy his craving

or i saw strawberry shortcakes was one of tsukki’s favourite food in canon so i ran with it

word count: 2700

The light, sweet twinkling sound of a metal wind chime disrupted the silence of the cosy bakery as the front door swung open. A tall blonde figure entered and immediately seemed to take up a huge amount of space in the tiny cafe as the smell of freshly baked goods wafted through the air. It lingered in his nose and seemed to permeate through the welcoming environment around him, settling around the floral centrepieces and squashy armchairs that the blonde figure was very tempted to sink into and nap after the day he just had. 

The owner of the bakery’s head poked around the corner of the staff-only doorway behind the counter.

“Ohhh I always knew you were illiterate Tsukki-san,” Y/N teased, motioning towards the ‘CLOSED’ sign on the door he had just barged through.

“That’s funny coming from a little pipsqueak who’s only good for baking,” Tsukishima replied quickly and his eyes glittered with mirth as he walked over to get a better look at the counter.

“No point in looking. It was pretty busy today so I’m fresh out of pretty much everything, including your beloved shortcake.” 

Y/N leaned onto the counter, head coming to rest on her hands so she could peer at Tsukishima clearly. She was surprised to see how tired he looked when he was normally immaculately presented.

“Busy day at the museum?” she pried, feeling a pang of sympathy for him.

“The worst,” Tsukishima sighed. His glasses moved up as he pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. “There were three separate school groups today and our usual tour guide called in sick so guess who was showing those snivelling brats around?”

Y/N assessed him before deciding to take pity on him.

“You know I’m actually baking to replace some of the product for tomorrow right now. If you’re willing to wait I could get started on the strawberry shortcake and have some ready for you in no time.”

“Oh... that’s fine-,” Tsukishima said, surprised by her offer. “I mean- if you want to-”

She waved her hands, interrupting him.

“Tell you what. How about I bake extra and you can take some home free of charge.”

“Only for my most loyal customer,” she added when he still looked unsure.

There was a shadow of a genuine smile on Tsukishima’s face before he responded.

“That would be great actually.”

Y/N motioned for him to follow her into the kitchen and tried to shake the uneasy feeling that was settling in her stomach. It was definitely odd to see him be genuine with her. Since he had first wandered into her store a few months ago it wasn’t often that they weren’t exchanging quick banter. 

Maybe she had been a bit too forward in her offer to cook shortcakes, especially just for him and off the clock. Truthfully, since he had started showing up regularly she’d developed a little bit of a crush on him. It was a minor thing really. It was harmless fun to flirt with him over the coffee machine or fantasise about him on nights she couldn’t sleep.

Being alone with him in her cafe after hours was a whole new ballgame. She was already attracted to him and her nerves were being manifested into an electricity that pulsed through her body, putting her on edge.

This is purely professional Y/N reminded herself. I’m just keeping one of my regular customers happy. 

She gestured around the kitchen as they entered.

“And here is where the magic happens.”

Tsukishima made himself comfortable, leaning on a bench as he watched her. She was pulling out ingredients and utensils to get started on the vanilla sponge. Noticing him staring at her, Y/N pulled a large tupperware from the fridge and handed it to the blonde with a knife.

“Make yourself useful and prepare the strawberries please.”

“Here I was thinking you were treating me, not putting me to work as your slave,” Tsukishima said as he lifted the lid and peered in.

“Just cut the greens off and chop ‘em up into quarters so I can get you something sweet quicker,” she added, as if he hadn’t said anything.

Tsukishima hummed in response and turned to the strawberries. There was something about the tone of his voice that made Y/N wonder if they both picked up on the unintentional double entendre. She swallowed and continued to ignore the growing unease in her stomach.

They fell into silence as they worked, which wasn’t actually as awkward as she had feared. Her body did feel warm- too warm at the close proximity to the object of many fantasies she’d dreamt up. It was lucky that she had done this recipe enough that she could do it with her eyes closed because the way his cologne lingered around her made it hard to concentrate. It didn’t help that she could feel Tsukishima’s eyes constantly looking over at her.

“I could give you the recipe you know,” Y/N finally laughed as he looked over at her for what felt like the hundredth time. “It’s not a secret or anything.”

Tsukishima shook his head and looked very serious as he contemplated her offer.

“No, I’ve tried lots of shortcakes before. It’s never the same as having someone else cook. And none of them have ever tasted like yours.”

Y/N looked down into the bowl she was mixing to try and hide the blush at the genuine compliment. 

Tsukki being genuine multiple times in only a few minutes? Y/N thought to herself. That can’t be a good sign.

Y/N peeked a glance over at him, her eyes immediately being drawn to his lips and the way they closed around a strawberry, savouring the taste before it disappeared into his mouth.

Well actually Y/N changed her mind as she got lost in what else those lips could do. It could be a very good sign.

Y/N worked quickly and it wasn’t long before she got started on whipping the cream. Adding powdered sugar and vanilla extract in small doses, she would periodically stick her finger into the mixture bringing it up to her mouth for a taste test.

She paused when she felt his eyes on her again. 

“I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself while I slave away for you,” Tsukki complained.

“Sorry, did you want some?” she grinned as she reached a finger into the cream she was whipping and swiped up a small amount. She reached out to him and wiped her finger against his cheek, smearing the cream there.

“What-?!” Tsukishima let out a strangled cry of disapproval. He looked at her disbelievingly for a moment before smirking as he closed the distance between them. At his tall height, he towered over her and his eyes flashed dangerously before he spoke again.

“You’re going to pay for that, pipsqueak.” 

His voice was low and husky and it made her shiver. He was so close now she could feel the heat from his body, she could count his individual eyelashes, could even count the freckles around his mouth. Subconsciously she leaned in to meet him, her lips parting..

Like a quick flash, Tsukishima’s hands moved quickly and suddenly there was a coolness sliding down the side of her face. Y/N raised her hand to her cheek and withdrew it when she found a dollop of cream there, one that was significantly larger than the one she’d just wiped on him.

“Tsuuuki,” she whined, pouting.

“You’re right, that wasn’t fair,” Tsukishima cooed sarcastically. “Let me fix that for you.”

One of his hands reached around into Y/N’s hair to hold her in place before he leaned in and ran his tongue along her cheek in a single swipe, licking up most of the cream there. 

Y/N breath hitched and looked up to find him staring at her intently, waiting for her reaction. She ignored the thoughts that crept up that told her sleeping with one of her customers in her workplace was not a smart idea and grinned up at him. 

“I think you missed a spot,” she pointed out hopefully.

Tsukki’s lips descended onto her jawline again, dragging his tongue down lower to her neck, seeking any leftover cream.

Always eager to get the upper hand on him and while he was occupied, her hand blindly felt behind her searching for the whipped cream bowl. Picking up some cream with her hand she turned back to Tsukishima, ready to strike.

Quicker on the uptake though, he quickly grabbed her wrist in a tight hold.

“This is for me?” he asked, bringing her pointed finger up into his mouth so he could suck on the digit. His eyes stayed trained on her as he did so, something brimming in the depths of them that was entirely sinful.

“Here, want a taste?” He offered her his whipped cream covered finger. 

Y/N nodded quickly and bridged the gap between them, her mouth closing around his finger. She eagerly ensured she sucked up all the cream, working her lips and tongue slowly while she relished in imagining his finger was a different part of his body. When she looked up at him with wide eyes, her mouth still around his finger, Tsukishima let out a groan.

“C’mere, you tease,” he murmured. He loomed over her as she backed up until she hit the counter behind her. 

Y/N used her hands on the bench behind to help with leaning upwards to meet Tsukishima’s lips. Kissing him felt different than anything she’d ever imagined. It was so much better. He was calculated and deliberate in his movements. Moving slowly against her lips while Y/N’s movements were desperate as she frantically clung to the front of his shirt and responded to the kiss. 

Barely pulling away, Tsukki’s strong hands moved down her body before picking her up and  sitting her on the bench behind her. Y/N’s legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him even closer. 

Eventually he pulled away from the kiss, earning a needy whine from Y/N which made him click his tongue at her.

“Impatient are we?” he admonished.

Y/N ignored him and continued to kiss every inch of his skin she could reach. She was pressing her mouth on the tiny freckles she could see on his neck now they were this close.

“Ahhh..” he hummed in pleasure and moved his head to allow her easier access. He leaned over and pulled the bowl closer towards them. 

“I just can’t seem to get enough of your shortcakes, you know.” He stuck his finger in the bowl to get some whipped cream again. 

“You really want to talk about shortcakes right now?” Y/N complained as he pulled away and his soft skin was no longer near her mouth.

He rubbed it along her neck and moved in to drag his tongue against her again. Any more complaints died in her mouth as she stifled a moan over his wet tongue drawing circles across her skin.

“It’s just too sweet to resist,” he breathed, mouth still against her throat.”I can’t help myself.”

Her hands came up and tangled through his hair as she pressed herself against him, finding him hard and just as ready as herself. 

Tsukki continued rubbing cream onto Y/N’s body and licking it up with his mouth while moving lower down. If Y/N had thought she was aching with lust before, this was nothing compared to the desperation she felt as he continued to tease her, his tongue moving from her collarbone to her cleavage. Her chest was heaving as fingers came to untie the apron and unbutton the shirt she had underneath, leaving her in just her bra. 

He smeared whipped cream across her cleavage and slowly cleaned it away, savouring the sweetness. He carefully moved the bra aside so his mouth could work it’s magic on her hard nipples. Y/N moaned out his name and rutted her hips against him longing for any kind of friction - anything to just ease the tension that was going on inside her body. It seemed that no matter how much she whined though, Tsukishima continued his slow and methodical descent down her body. When she would attempt to reach for his own clothes, he would just smack her hands away.

When Tsukki finally passed over her belly button and reached her pants, she was leaning back for easier access. She helped him wiggle her pants off her legs, along with her underwear. The steel of the bench felt startlingly cool against her body, which was probably giving off enough heat to power an oven. His eyes were taking her in and she could see his pupils were so dilated they looked almost black. She understood that maddening lust though, with him standing over her, fully clothed, and her lying open - so wet and so ready for him. It made her feel incredibly vulnerable in a most delicious way.

He forced her legs to open wider so he could stand between her and she saw his eyes flicker towards the cream.

“Don’t even think about it,” she warned. “ You’ve wasted enough.”

Tsukki just smirked at her but acquiesced her request as he knelt down, leaving open mouthed kisses along her inner thighs. Her body felt like it was on fire from his constant teasing and when his tongue finally found her wet pussy she wanted to sob out of desperation from lack of release.

“Please, Tsukki,” she gasped out.

“Please what?” 

“Please- please just let me cum.”

His pace was still agonisingly slow but he did move his mouth until he found her clit, teasing it with deliberate and controlled strokes of his tongue. He reached up with one hand and gripped her hand while his other hand joined his mouth, easing a finger inside of her before pumping it in and out. It didn’t take long for her to orgasm and she finally came undone crying out his name. He let her ride out her orgasm against his fingers, decreasing the tempo, before getting up so he could take her in.

“Look at you,” he murmured almost affectionately and she melted under his praise. “You make a much prettier picture like this than I ever could have imagined.”

Tsukishima unbuttoned his shirt before continuing.

“And oh, how long I have been imagining this.”

He slid his shirt off, revealing his sculpted body.

“How long I’ve imagined making you cum on my fingers.”

His fingers worked on his zipper now, pulling his pants off.

“Making you cum on my tongue.”

He pulled his dick out and gave himself a few strokes.

“On my cock.”

He rubbed himself against her slit, still maddeningly slow and calculated in his movements. Her nerves were still on fire and she cried out whenever she felt his dick brush against her clit or whenever he teased her entrance.

“Tsukki..” she panted.

“You ready, little one?” 

“Tsukishima,” Y/N groaned. “Just fuck me already.”

He swore under his breath as he guided himself into her. Y/N winced internally at the sting of herself stretching to accommodate him. But it was only a slight pain that felt so good. The stretch felt delicious and Y/N wanted to make sure she would be reminded of this ache for days. 

“Harder,” she moaned.

Tsukishima hips moved faster in order to set a tone that was absolutely punishing. He was brutally efficient as they both chased a high. Y/N was mewling wantonly and completely unrestrained from the aching lust he had built up but whenever he made a noise of pleasure it would reverberate through her entire core. It was truly a sight to behold whenever the often silent and always calculated Tsukki would allow the mask to slip in his lust. His hands grasped at her hips, gripping so tightly she felt she might bruise. She hoped she would. 

He looked down at her and she knew he must see an absolute hot mess, mouth agape in a constant moan, frantically clutching at whatever part of his body she could reach, probably even still covered in dried whipped cream. 

“I want to see you cum, okay?” Tsukishima ordered in a voice that was heavy with lust as he brought a finger down to rub her still too-sensitive clit.

It was all just too much and all she could do was whimper something she hoped sounded like agreement. She reached her second orgasm when his mouth found her neck, biting down gently on a sensitive spot near her shoulder. Crying out his name, her walls tightened and spasmed against him and it was only a few moments after that Tsukishima came undone too, cursing.

He came to rest against her, both their bodies sticky with sweat and pressed against each other. They stayed like that for a few moments, trying to catch their breath. Eventually Tsukishima spoke, breaking the silence.

“Does this mean I’m not getting that shortcake anymore?” he asked.

Y/N slapped his chest.

[nightofthemeteor]

Falconry/Bonsai

(Also here on AO3)

“Tobirama, can you come help me with something?”

“What?” came the disgruntled answer from down the hall.

Hashirama stuck his head out the door. “I need you to take a picture for my Instagram!”

He could hear his little brother stomping down the hallway, so Hashirama returned to his table and picked up a pair of pruning shears, considering the lighting in the room and the best angle to take a photo. A moment later, Tobirama walked into the room, saw Hashirama, and immediately turned around and walked out.

“Hey! Come back!”

“No way,” said Tobirama, without turning around. “I am not taking a picture of you in your underwear.”

“I’m not in only my underwear!” Hashirama protested. “I’m wearing a shirt!” Granted, it was the shortest shirt he owned, and it did leave a substantial strip of skin bare, but still.

“Can I ask,” Tobirama said witheringly, stopped in the doorway but without turning around, “Why you’re posing for a half-naked picture to put on your gardening blog? Don’t tell me you’re that desperate for exposure.” He was forced to turn around for this last part, because he had to raise his eyebrows at Hashirama to make sure he got the double entendre.

“Very funny, Tobirama. No, it’s not for more followers.” Although that could be a nice side effect, come to think of it. “It’s a…” Hashirama knew there was a word for this, if only he could remember – “Thirst trap!” he announced, proud of himself for getting the terminology right.

Tobirama wrinkled his nose. “Please never say that again, Anija. Do I know the person you’re posting this for?”

“Nah – I just met him yesterday! I ran into him on the subway as I was bringing home this very bonsai.” Hashirama affectionately patted the pot containing his newest leafy charge, a lovely boxwood tree rescued from the back shelves of a garden store on the other side of town. “I’m telling you, Tobirama, this tree is good luck!”

“Are you out of your mind, Anija? You gave your Instagram handle to some random stranger on the subway, and now you’re posting – ” Tobirama made a vague, sort of circular gesture to encompass Hashirama’s general state of undress “ – for him to see? I’m begging you to have just a shred of common sense.”

“No, this guy is fine, I promise! I have excellent judgement about this sort of thing.” Tobirama crossed his arms and gave him a flat look that said, Your judgement is terrible and we both know it. Hashirama sighed. “If you help me, I’ll buy you that expensive, iced coffee you like,” he wheedled.

“Two coffees,” Tobirama snapped. “And when you end up with some creepy stalker, I’m not going to help you.”

“Yes! Thank you!” Hashirama shoved his phone into Tobirama’s hands before he could change his mind and struck a pose next to the boxwood, shears in hand. He’d just finished pruning the tree, in fact – this picture was to show off his handiwork with the bonsai, too. The guy on the subway - Madara, he'd said his name was - had asked about it, after all. “Is the shape of the tree still good from that angle?”

“It’s fine,” Tobirama sighed in exasperation, and then, apparently resigned to his role, added: “Maybe turn it clockwise a little.”

Hashirama complied, spending a few more seconds arranging the miniature branches. “Did you get your exam marks back yet?” he asked, to keep Tobirama occupied while he fussed with the tree.

“Just got my mark for organic chem,” his brother replied, lips pressed together in an angry pout. “One point away from perfect. I swear, that TA was just trying to find some excuse to take marks away; he was a huge asshole to me all semester, just because I pointed out his synthesis problems had more than one correct solution.”

That explained why Tobirama was even grumpier than usual. “Well, you must have done an excellent job, if this TA could only find one point to take away,” Hashirama tried, in an attempt to mollify him; Tobirama’s stony expression remained unchanged. “Plus, the year is over, so you’ll never have to deal with him again!”

That got a grudging half-smile out of Tobirama. “Yeah – at least there’s that. Are you ready, Anija? I want to get this over with.”

---

The picture was…it was…different from the majority of Hashirama’s posts. Madara had been stalking his Instagram for the past half hour – was it really stalking if the guy had given him his handle and invited him to look for updates on the bonsai he’d been carrying? Probably not, right? – Madara had been looking at his Instagram for the past half hour, and it was all innocent pictures of trees, flowers, and houseplants, meticulously cared for and clearly thriving. Occasionally, Hashirama’s smiling face appeared in the background of a photo, or his hand showed up in a close-up to showcase some clippings, but there was nothing like…that. Broad shoulders in a loosely draped shirt; smooth skin over taut muscle at his stomach; sharp hipbones leading down to –

“What are you looking at, Nii-san?”

Madara jumped, fumbled his phone, and dropped it onto his chest. “Izuna! How many times do I have to tell you to knock?”

“Oh, it was porn? Sorry,” said Izuna, sticking his face obnoxiously through the crack between Madara’s bedroom door and the wall.

“It wasn’t porn,” Madara replied reflexively, before realizing that not only was he now going to have to provide an explanation, but he sort of had been looking at porn. Almost. “It’s this guy I met yesterday,” Madara mumbled at his phone. “I'm on his Instagram.”

“You met someone?!” Izuna exclaimed in delight. Madara sighed – there was no keeping his little brother out of his business now. Sure enough, Izuna threw open his door the rest of the way and bounded over to sit next to Madara on the bed. “How did this miracle occur?”

“It was…kind of accidental.” Madara wasn’t exactly the sociable type, and he certainly didn’t strike up conversations with strangers on public transit – in fact, he usually did his best to maintain a menacing aura so that people didn’t talk to him. But yesterday, after staring for probably a solid five minutes at the impressively muscled forearms of the guy standing in front of him, Madara had realized even those muscles might get tired of holding an entire bonsai tree, and he should probably offer the guy his seat. The man had accepted the offer with a very genuine-sounding thanks, and then had proceeded to flash Madara an implausibly sunny grin, gesture to the bonsai in his lap, and say, “Trees-ed to meet you!”. The line was so terrible Madara hadn't been able to let it go without comment, and before he knew what was happening, he’d been talking to the guy for twenty minutes and had acquired his Instagram handle.

“Well, can I see a picture?” Izuna demanded.

Madara winced, rapidly weighed his options, and reluctantly unlocked his phone to show Izuna the picture he’d been looking at. Izuna, shockingly, didn’t comment on the nature of the photo, but squinted down at it and said, “Hm…I think I know that guy.”

“You do?”

“I’m pretty sure I met him on campus one time, when I was waiting for your lab to finish. He was waiting for someone too, so we chatted for a few minutes. Nice guy.”

With sudden, dawning horror, Madara asked, “Was he hitting on you?”

“No, no! Nothing like that. I think he’s just a friendly type of person.”

Well, a man who flirted with anything that moved – or worse, Izuna – would have been a crushing disappointment, but a ‘friendly type of person’ was nearly as bad. Hashirama had given him his Instagram handle and told him to watch for a post with an update on ‘his’ bonsai, and said bonsai update had included a half-naked Hashirama. Madara had nearly dared to interpret that as interest…but if Hashirama was just a ‘friendly type of person,’ Madara could have been reading the cues entirely wrong. Perhaps their conversation yesterday had just been a fun way to pass the time, and the photo was intended for somebody else.

As if reading his mind, Izuna said, “You should ask him out for drinks or something.”

“I followed his Instagram,” Madara announced, “And that is exactly the number of moves I am willing to make. I’m busy, you know – I can’t go chasing all the time like you.” Just one of many excellent reasons to save that picture for his fantasies and never meet the real person ever again.

“You just finished marking all your exams,” Izuna countered. “I know you’re not that busy. Come on, Nii-san, be reasonable: when are you ever going to get another chance like this again?”

“Thanks for that, Izuna,” Madara muttered. Who said he was even interested in dating, anyways? Relationships were messy, confusing, and time-consuming; not at all worth the hassle –

Madara’s phone buzzed. Instagram message from Hashirama: Hey, sorry if this is presumptuous, but do you want to meet up for drinks sometime?

Madara stared at his screen. Then, disbelieving, he held out the phone for Izuna to read. A stunned moment of silence, and then Izuna shrieked, “You have to go!”

Well, maybe this wasn’t quite as complicated as Madara had feared. Izuna was right; he wasn’t that busy. Pursing his lips in concentration, Madara typed out a reply.

---

Tobirama had been completely wrong, as it turned out: Madara was neither a creep nor a stalker. He was a grad student with an acerbic tongue, passionate opinions, and a lovely embarrassed blush. Hashirama had become so absorbed in the conversation he’d completely forgotten to order more drinks, which was seriously unlike him – although, since he’d made up his mind to pay for the date, it was probably for the best.

“I can’t believe I’m here,” Madara remarked abruptly, somewhere around hour three or four.

“You mean existentially?”

“Literally here, in a bar, having drinks with you,” Madara clarified. “I mean – my younger brother is convinced I’m incapable of socializing. He was probably planning to set me up with one of his friends from…art school…” He leveled a suspicious glare at Hashirama as he said these last few words. “He didn’t put you up to this, did he? What’s he paying you?”

“It wasn’t your brother,” said Hashirama seriously. “It was the bonsai.”

“The bonsai paid you to take me out for drinks?”

“The bonsai brought us together.” Hashirama raised his glass; Madara followed suit, looking a little bemused but playing along, nonetheless. “To the bonsai!” Hashirama announced. He drained his glass, surreptitiously watched the way Madara’s throat moved as he drank, and thought. Tobirama would definitely judge him for thinking it, but though Hashirama barely knew Madara, he felt an immediate connection to him. He didn’t want to lose this opportunity.

“Madara,” he said. Madara looked at him with his dark, expressive eyes, shadows from his hair falling across his face, and Hashirama bit his lip. Careful, he thought. “I really am glad you’re here, in this bar, having drinks with me.”

Madara flushed again, his cheeks and the tips of his ears turning red; Hashirama wondered if he could make Madara flush anywhere else. “I’m glad, too,” he said, low and a little shaky, as though he was unused to saying things like that.

Hashirama immediately abandoned his caution of just a moment before and said, “Do you want to get out of here? We can go to my place – my brother won’t be home.”

“Yes,” said Madara. “Yes, definitely.”

---

Hashirama had the bonsai – Madara’s bonsai, the one he’d toasted that evening – set up in pride of place in his bedroom. That should have prompted Madara to suspect Hashirama had planned for this to happen, and make him annoyed at Hashirama’s confidence. He should also have been a lot more panicked when he looked at Hashirama’s face, sleepy and content, with his previously immaculate hair tangled on the pillow, and felt a tug somewhere under his sternum. Instead, he looked at that bonsai on his way out of the room and thought, Thanks.

Hashirama’s apartment wasn’t very large, considering it housed two people, but it was still annoying to search for the bathroom in an unfamiliar place. Madara had been sure Hashirama had told him it was down the hall on the left, but now he was in the entranceway. He was about to retrace his steps and try again when he heard a key jingling in the door.

“Hey, Anija, I just came back for – ” The man in the doorway spotted Madara and froze. Madara, too, had frozen in horror, because even in the dim light he’d immediately recognized Hashirama’s brother.

“You!” yelped Senju Tobirama.

“No,” Madara said, backing up a step. “Absolutely not.”

Tobirama pointed an accusing finger at him. “I was supposed to be done with you!” he hissed. “You took off that one mark on purpose, didn’t you?”

“Oh, because you think all your solutions are perfect, do you?” He’d certainly acted that way all through that torturous organic chemistry class.

“Tobirama?” came Hashirama’s concerned voice from the hallway.

“Tell me you’re not sleeping with my TA, Anija!” Tobirama practically wailed, and suddenly, Madara’s annoyance at the appearance of his least favourite student was replaced with pure schadenfreude.

“I’m afraid he very much is,” he said, before Hashirama could reply. “So you’d better get used to seeing a lot of me.” And to his great satisfaction, he watched Hashirama’s face brighten in delight, and Tobirama’s drop in utter horror.

[littlegrrl7]

“The Tiger and the Wren”

Ikemen Sengoku Shingen/OC 18+

Excerpt from Chapter 6 “Pain and Warmth”

Fluff

___

“Rough mission?” Sasuke eyed the bruise on Ren’s cheekbone, another was visible through her kimono collar, her gait was stiff as she walked down the hall. It had been a few weeks since they’d seen each other.

“I’ve had better.” She gave him a half-grin and a wink. “How goes your training under Kenshin?”

“I’m managing to avoid him more regularly, it helps that these cold months keep people indoors.” He lifted the hem of his top. “Look, for the first time in my scientific lifestyle, I have abs!”

Ren laughed, giving him a half hug as they walked down the hall, he noticed her bandaged hand and squinted at her.

“I’m fine. Honestly, my mark had two extremely well-trained shinobi in his employ. I took my lumps, but gave as good as I got.” She gave him a quick reassuring kiss on the cheek, then turned the corner.

 Speaking of abs…

Her face pressed into the heated flesh of Shingen’s bare chest, the edge of his kimono caressed her cheek, unconsciously she inhaled deeply. Ren hadn’t realized how much she had missed the sweet musk of his scent. Coming to her senses, she stumbled backward, Shingen caught her in his long arms holding her against him until she had regained her balance. She felt the heat rise to her cheeks. His hands caressed warmly down her back.

“My Goddess, if you are favoring mere mortals with kisses from your divine lips today, I’ll have the next one.” Holy cats! His voice was like buttered caramel, she gazed upward, his mirth filled grey eyes smoldered, her knees went weak.

 Dammit, girl pull yourself together!

“My Lord, I apologize.” She started to bow, her eyes shifting away from his burning gaze to the ground. Her heart threatened to beat its way out of her chest.

“Unnecessary, “ Shingen cupped her chin, lifting her gaze back to his. A thumb traced the edge of her bruise with concern, then continued to teasingly brush over her lower lip. “You are, as always, a pleasure to bump into Ren.” The tiger glinted in his eyes at the double entendre. He took her hand, playfully kissing the tips of her fingers. Her face burned red. With a smile, he nodded in greeting to Sasuke and continued on down the hall.

Ren gasped.

“Woah,” Sasuke’s lip twitched in a grin “I knew there was some unresolved sexual tension between you two, but I feel like I need a cold shower after that exchange. Is he always so-“

“Every damn time.”

“And you haven’t-“

“No.” Ren swallowed audibly. Sasuke peered at her flushed face then glanced down the hall.

“Ren…I’m straight, and I’d hit that, what are you waiting for? He’s obviously into you.”

She sighed, shaking herself off. “He’s my boss.”

“I don’t think that’s an issue for him.” Ren smacked her friend’s shoulder.

“Uggg, I need a soak. My body is one big bruise. I’ll catch up to you later, ok?”

Sasuke gave her a lip twitch smile and sauntered off down the hall.

It was rare Ren used the onsen as she was one of the few females at the castle with leave to make use of it. It was cold, but still, the light dusting of snow melted far before the edge of the water. Ren had tied a small tag to a scarf at the entrance, announcing the hot spring was in use by her then dropped her towel near the edge, sinking her naked bruised body into the steaming medicinal waters.

It had been a long time since she had taken a beating like that, and it was a sharp reminder to keep her skills honed. She had been sent to Oshu to ferret out some information, on her way out, she encountered two extremely well-trained Shinobi who appeared to be brothers. She was happy she escaped with her skin intact if varying shades of purple. At least she gave as good as she got, the dark-haired one had stayed at range, but the flirty blonde he called “Gen” was definitely hurting as much as she was. She turned to face the edge of the pool, laying her bruised cheek against the cool stone. Everything just ached, it was probably for the best she didn’t have a mirror. At least the wound on her hand was shallow, it was the only cut she took. She let her mind drift in the rising steam of the onsen, her eyes sliding closed.

Familiar steps came close, her eyes snapped back open.

“Hello Ren, mind if I join you? Sasuke said you were going for a soak and would like some company.”

 Shingen…damn, you Sasuke. You are going to wish Kenshin had killed you.

She flitted her eyes to the side, her breasts were pressed to the wall, her back faced him.

“I left a scarf indicating I was using the onsen.”

“I saw,” He chuckled. “Was it not an invitation?”

She turned a little more to look at him. Shingen stood on the other side of the natural pool, wearing only a small towel around his narrow hips. Her eyes traveled upward slowly, every line of his body was perfectly sculpted from his muscled abdomen to his smooth broad chest to shoulders so vast she felt like she’d swoon. Ren had never seen a more magnificent specimen of a male. If he were from her time, he would be a model and not one that needed the aid of photoshop. She let her eyes wander appreciatively back downward. He smiled, dropping the towel to slide into the steaming water.

 Yes, …everything was perfect. Whelp, there’s more fuel for that fantasy…

Ren averted her eyes, her face glowing red. “Just stay to your side.”

Him

He saw the bruises on her face from the last mission and winced internally. He knew the twins she ran up against. That she survived, was a testament to her skill. When Sasuke mentioned to him she was going to soak, Shingen picked up a container of salve to give her to help with the bruising. Seeing her in the onsen, he was sorry he sent her. The white flesh of her back was mottled in all shades of pain like she had either taken a beating or fallen hard. He realized by the way she covered herself, she was unused to casual nudity.

“I’m sorry I sent you.” His voice was sincere, he saw her eyes flash in surprise.

“Was the information I retrieved not what you desired?”

“It wasn’t worth the damage to your pearlescent skin, my angel. Are you ok? I brought you some salve to help with the pain and bruising.”

“Thank you, my Lord. That is very thoughtful of you.” To his surprise, she turned to face him, sinking down into the water. Her arms crossed over her bare chest. An angry blackened bruise striped across her shoulder to her collarbone on the left side, it looks like someone struck her there then it bounced off catching her cheek.

“Just Shingen, please.” He requested softly, “Would you tell me what happened?”

“I got cocky.” A self-deprecating laugh slipped from her lips. “I haven’t run up against anyone else here to match my skills, the other shinobi I’ve run into were sloppy or lacking in discipline, these two weren’t.”

Shingen listened quietly, watching the emotions play freely across her face. She was different today, unguarded. Possibly from fatigue. He found it very human of her, alluring, different than the self-assured cold demeanor she usually projected.

“I had just left the castle with the intel when the dark-haired shinobi started flinging kunai at me, he stayed at range the entire time. I never had a chance to bring out my bow because the blonde immediately closed at melee. We were evenly matched and disarmed each other as soon as he closed. The fight turned into unarmed combat with his brother flinging missiles at me. Thank goodness I was faster, he only managed a graze on my hand.” She gave a small shrug, wincing imperceivably at the roll of her shoulders. He found himself wanting to reach out to her to comfort her but knew she wouldn’t allow it in her current state of undress.

“The dark-haired man called him “Gen”. We beat on each other for some time, I gave as good as I got. I managed to knock him out, and I ran for it.” She paused and then added, “I would prefer not to be sent there again without backup.”

“Understood, again, I apologize for putting you in that position. I did not know they would both be present.”

Ren raised an eyebrow. “But you were aware at least one would be present? A warning would have been nice.”

“My goddess, I knew you could handle it, I have faith in you.”

She splashed him, “Ass.”

Shingen blinked at the unexpected sass then gave her a wolfish grin.

“Next time, warn me.” She smiled, it was radiant, and he felt his heart thump loud against his ribs.

“I promise.” He moved forward to sit by her and saw her eyes widen in panic. Shingen raised his hands.

“Just, keep to your side, mixed bathing isn’t really done by non-couples where I’m from.”

“We could change that.” Her eyes lit warily at his grin. “My angel, I would love to couple with you. "

“Pfffft!” Her laughter made him smile. “You and your silver tongue, do you ever stop flirting?”

“If you desired me to, I would stop. But I don’t think you do.”

“Guilty.” She rolled her eyes, then turned back around, giving him a view of her back to where the water lapped at her narrow waist. Another bruise started there and wrapped down under the water. His lips briefly tightened at the amount of pain she must be in.

“Ren, why don’t we go back to your room and I’ll help you with the salve? I use it when I’m injured. It will actually help more than the heat of the springs.”

She nodded, “would you close your eyes?”

“Hmmm?” He tilted his head.

“So, I can get out, would you please close your eyes?” The tips of her ears were scarlet, it had nothing to do with the heat of the springs. He smiled at how adorable she was.

“My eyes are closed.” He heard her leave the water, imagined it running off her flesh, pooling around her. Soft fabric rustled as she wrapped herself in the full towel.

“I’ll be in my room, thank you.”

Shingen waited until he could no longer hear her footsteps, then opening his eyes, he climbed out of the springs. He picked up the jar of salve and went to retrieve his kimono. He could have just given it to her, but the damage was so extreme she would never be able to reach all of it on her own.

 Tell yourself that old man.

This was not just an excuse to touch her, he wanted to help her.

 mmmhmmmm

He slid on his kimono…maybe he should just stop by and give her the salve, he could send a maid by to help her apply it. Yes, that is what he should do. He started walking toward her room with decisive strides.

He tapped on the door.

“Ren, it’s Shingen.”

“Come in.”

His breath hitched as he entered the room, and all thoughts of simply handing her the salve disappeared like smoke. She kneeled on her futon, her bare back to him. Her sleeping kimono was belted around her waist, but she had slid both arms out and merely held the cloth up to her chest. He had just seen her fully naked in the onsen, and yet this was far more intimate. He took a deep breath steeling himself. He was here to help her.

“I appreciate you helping me. I won’t lie, I’m very sore. It’s been a long time since I’ve been hurt this badly.” Her soft voice was hesitantly vulnerable.

Shingen kneeled behind her scooping some of the salve from the jar, he warmed it in his hands before spreading it gently onto her purpled flesh. Her skin was softer than he had imagined. He leaned in, rubbing the salve into the wound on her shoulder then moving lower down her back. His hands were gentle, reverent on her. The fact she was even letting him touch her so intimately surprised him.

“I saw one lower, near your waist?”

“Hmmm, yes, he hit me in the hip with a log.” She fidgeted a bit then opened the front of her kimono, dropping the fabric to display her purpled hip. He moved his hands over it, and she sighed in pleasure.

A smile tugged at his lips. He leaned in closer, letting his natural warmth roll over her. His hands continued to rub salve into her abused skin, but at this point, it was more of an excuse to touch her.

He slid both hands down her back, Ren let out a rumbling purr that ended in a moan. Then covered her mouth in embarrassment, her skin flushing to red.

“It appears I have discovered a tigress.” Shingen let his lips graze the nape of her neck, he couldn’t resist. The spice scent of her flesh was enticing. She turned her head toward him, snowy lashes fluttering to her cheeks.

“It just felt really good.” She admitted. The blush on her cheeks was beyond charming. He slid an arm around her cupping her chin.

“Let me see that cheek.” He caressed some salve over the bruise on her face. Her violet eyes caught his, he paused. There was desire in the depths of her eyes. She leaned back into his chest. He brought both arms around her in a warm embrace. His lips nuzzled into the back of her neck. He nipped her gently, suckling on tender flesh. Her breath came in short hot pants.

“Shingen, we shouldn’t.”

He grinned against her neck.

“You don’t want me to hold you?” he asked softly.

“I do, it feels nice.”

“Do you want me to kiss you?” his lips trailed against softly on her neck, nibbling at the uninjured flesh.

“I’m too hurt to make this enjoyable.”

He chuckled against her cheek. “I am enjoying you.”

She let out a frustrated little snort, he grinned wider. “You are adorable.” Shingen ruffled her short hair. “How could I not enjoy being close to you?”

She rolled her eyes. “Alright, I thank you for your help, I can get the ones in the front.”

“Or you could allow me to?”

Her

His hands, she was melting into the warmth of them. Everywhere he touched her, it tingled. Ren told herself it was just the medicinal salve, but her heart beating so fast in her chest told a different story. Her body still hurt, but now a different kind of ache was overlaying that. It was not a small effort to lean away from him, sliding her arms back into the sleeves of her kimono. She turned slightly with a wince and brushed her lips softly against his cheek.

“I really appreciate it thank you, I should get some rest.” She tried not to look him in the eye, Ren knew she’d lose her resolve if she did. It was already slipping. Every breath was full of his scent, his warmth, her body was screaming for him. She was holding onto her moral ground by her fingernails and slipping fast.

“It will only take a moment.” His eyes caught hers, concern and tenderness swirled in the soft grey. She was lost. Wordlessly she moved the cloth to the side, exposing the length of her left leg, the bruising on her thigh wrapping around down to her ankle. Shingen warmed the salve again in his hands, then slid them down over her muscled leg. She bit her lip holding back a moan, her eyes sliding closed. She rested her forehead to his shoulder. He made her feel too good to care anymore, the pain was replaced with his warmth. Her entire world focused down to the heat of his hands stroking over her calf, massaging the salve into her skin. Her breath came out in a long shaky sigh. Then to her surprise, he slid the kimono back over her leg, covering her. Shingen’s lips pressed warmly to her forehead.

“Get some rest, little bird. I’ll leave this with you.” He laid the jar next to her futon and stood. Her body hummed in protest at the loss of his warmth.

She let herself slide down into the bed, he leaned forward wrapping her warmly in the covers.

“Sweet dreams, my goddess.”

Continued on A03- long fic

https://archiveofourown.org/works/21712111/chapters/51789976

[adiabolikpastel]

Losing You

Rating: PG-13 - minor sex scene & male x male

Word Count: 4461

Original Character(s): Skye Oakly & Alrick Rosenfeld 

ღ This is the first written commission I have ever gotten! Thank you to @the-sloth-woman for writing our boys together! The art for both characters was done by @minoux-draws​

An AU piece where demons have taken over, however cannot breed normal. They must use the human’s to secure linage for the future. The Rosenfeld clan captures a human girl to marry off to the head of the family, young Alrick. 

Reluctantly, the snake demon prepares for his wedding. There is just one last thing he must do. A young siren who had been his lover for quite some time. Will the two be able to maintain a connection after the big news?ღ

♬° ✧❥✧¸.•*¨*✧♡✧ ♬° ✧❥✧¸.•*¨*✧♡✧ ♬° ✧❥✧¸.•*¨*✧♡✧ ♬° ✧❥✧¸.•*¨*✧♡✧

Alrick closed the door to the penthouse with a resolute click. Anger radiated off him in waves, and it took every inch of his self-control not to rip the door off its fucking hinges. 

Why was she so goddamn frustrating!? Surely she could see that he didn’t want to be mated to her either. There were hundreds of demons who he would have been better suited with. Men and women who were thousands of times less infuriating as one stupid human girl. He would have done better to trade her off to the brothel owners. At least there she would find something to do with her stupid mouth. 

He shook his head and took a deep breath through his nose. He couldn’t think about Lilly right now, not when he had so much on his plate. There was the ceremony to arrange on top of his normal workload. And that was an enormous task altogether. Was he supposed to just appear in traditional ceremonial dress with no forethought? Please. He didn’t have time to waste fighting with humans. 

The first and most pressing matter was, unfortunately, going to be the most difficult. Alrick was an extremely popular demon lord, and living alone for so long had left him a string of paramours. There were many that he did not care about, women who were little more than one-night stands and whose memories were clouded through fogs of wine. There were demons with whom he had more established relationships with, but they would understand his predicament. They would understand how his honor demanded that he put aside his own needs for the future of his people. And even then it had been weeks since he had seen anyone who particularly struck his interest. 

But there was one person who he was dreading bringing the news to. He had been seeing Skye on and off for months, and while they had an extraordinary physical relationship, they had managed to keep it hidden from most of the ruling class of demons. Their conversation would be messy, and full of feelings that Alrick didn’t know how to handle. The cowardly part of him wanted to prolong the conversation until after the ceremony. But Alrick wouldn’t let himself be a coward, no matter how difficult it would be. 

He spent most of the day making arrangements for the ceremony. His family’s uchikake needed to be pressed and cleaned, the sake needed to be chosen, and he sent out invitations to most of the ruling class. He also ordered contraceptive tea for afterward, just in case the mating did not take hold. There was nothing worse than being forced to raise a cub with someone who was incompatible with you. 

Truthfully, he was putting off calling Skye for as long as possible. The clock on his desk slowly ticked down toward the end of the day. He had one last night of freedom before being bound to a human, and he knew he had to make the most of it. He picked up the phone on his desk with a heavy heart and rang the Sakamaki family. 

Skye’s familiar voice greeted him on the other end of the line. “Sakamaki residence, this is Skye speaking. My masters are out of the house for the evening, may I take a message?” 

For once Alrick was thankful for the human invention of the telephone. It was much faster than sending a messenger, and the person on the other end didn’t have to see the look on his face. “It’s me,” he said, not bothering to introduce himself. 

The tone of Skye’s voice changed immediately. “Alrick- I mean, Your Highness,” he gushed. “It’s so nice to hear from you. Is there anything I can do for you? Anything at all?” 

Alrick tried not to wince at Skye’s familiar flirting. “I need to see you tonight. Can you meet me for dinner?” 

“Tonight? Well, the Sakamakis are busy, I’m really not supposed to leave the manor unattended.” 

“Shit,” Alrick ran his hand through his hair. “Then find an excuse to leave.” Skye’s warm laugh trilled through the end of the phone. “Really Alrick, has it been so long since you last saw me that you’re resorting to ordering me around? I’ll come much faster if you ask nicely,” he teased. “You should know that better than anyone.” 

The double entendre of Skye’s words was not lost on Alrick, but his mood was too sour to appreciate them. “Please, Skye,” he rarely ever let himself plead with another person, but he was desperate. “This is urgent. I need you, and it can’t wait.” 

“O-oh,” the tone of Alrick’s voice had thrown the flirty attitude form Skye’s voice. “Yeah, sure.” 

“Great. Meet me at our usual spot in half an hour. And don’t be late.” Alrick couldn’t see it, but he knew the authority in his voice was enough to make Skye shiver. “Of course. I’ll be there as soon as I can.” 

The nerves in Alrick’s stomach were only intensified by the fact that he arrived at the restaurant ten minutes early. He ordered a bottle of wine for the table and then waited for what felt like an eternity. He fidgeted in his suit, his eyes darting towards the door every few seconds. He had no idea what he was going to say to Skye. To tell him what was going on between him and Lilly was going to be excruciating. He remembered once when they had first started sleeping together when a waitress made the mistake of flirting with Alrick. Skye kissed him so possessively afterward that Alrick thought his lips were going to fall off. 

The door to the restaurant jingled at Skye’s arrival. The scales that curved around his eyes sparkled in the setting sun and Alrick felt a pang of guilt in the pit of his stomach. He was dressed in a crisp skirt that fell just above his knees and a sweater that accentuated the curve of his waist. His hair was tied into a loose bun at the top of his head, the rest of his long tresses trailing down his back. Alrick couldn’t tell if it was one of Skye’s many wigs or his real hair, but he looked pretty nonetheless. 

“Alrick,” Skye greeted him with a warm smile. “Or is this official business? Should I call you ‘Prince Rosenfeld’ instead?” 

Alrick grimaced at the title and loosened his tie. “You don’t have to do that when it’s just us.” 

“That’s not what you said the other night,” Skye purred, throwing his arms around Alrick in a soft hug. “I seem to recall you not letting me finish if I didn’t beg for ‘Prince Rosenfeld’ to give me permission-” 

“Shhh, shh!” Alrick pressed his thumb to Skye’s lips to silence him. “Do you really want to spill all our bedroom secrets in the middle of the restaurant?” 

“Well, not all of them,” Skye’s eyes flashed invitingly and took his seat across the table. “Just the ones that really embarrass you.” 

Alrick chuckled, some of the weight on his chest lifting. “I’ve missed you.” 

“I missed you too. You look tired,” Skye eyed the cut of Alrick’s suit. “Did you come directly from work?” 

“What gave it away?” Alrick poured himself a large glass of wine. “I didn’t have time to go home and change before meeting you, I hope you don’t mind.” That was a half-lie. The real reason he didn’t want to go home was that the human girl would be waiting for him, and seeing her would just make everything much worse. 

“Alrick, when have I ever minded you in a suit? You know they’re one of my favorite things to take off you.” 

“I suppose you’re right about that,” he ran his hand in his hair. “And am I right to assume that’s exactly what you’re thinking about doing right now?” 

“Alrick! How could you accuse me of such lewd and lascivious behavior?” 

“Because I’ve been sleeping with you long enough to know how your mind works.” Skye let out a burst of giggles and covered his mouth. “You caught me, I’ve been thinking about ripping it off of you since I walked in.” 

A wide grin spread across Alrick’s face. Before he could stop himself he said, “Maybe I’ll have to let you rip it off with your teeth.” 

The gravity of what he just said hit him a few moments later. There would be no more bedtime trysts with Skye. After tomorrow he would have a mate, and whether he liked it or not he would be bound to her for all of eternity. He swallowed thickly, the weight of his honor feeling like a large burden. Alrick was the demon prince, and he had a duty to his people before himself. Skye immediately noticed the change in Alrick’s demeanor. “What’s wrong? Was it something I said?” 

“No, no,” Alrick waved his wine glass, taking a long sip. “You haven’t done anything, I promise you. Actually, you’re doing too little. Talk to me, tell me about your day.” 

“Alright...” Skye trailed off, unsure. “It wasn’t very eventful. I did all the things the Sakamaki’s asked me to. Make tea, get the mail, answer the phones. Laito had me arrange a visit to the brothel for tomorrow morning, which should be super fun to clean up after.” 

“Of course he did.” Skye looked around to see if anyone was listening in and then leaned across the table with a wicked expression on his face. “You didn’t hear it from me, but I heard that the last time he went there one of the girls was so scared off by whatever he did that she ran out into the street and almost got hit by a car.” 

“Ugh,” Alrick wrinkled his nose. “What could he even think up that would scare someone that badly?” 

“I have no idea but I wish I did. Whatever it was, I don’t think it would have scared me if it was with you.” 

Fuck. There it was again, the unspoken weight that dangled over Alrick’s head like a sword. He swallowed the last of his wine and hung his head. There was no use in prolonging it, he had to come clean to Skye. “Listen, there’s something I need to-” 

“I know.” 

“E-eh?” Alrick blinked, flabbergasted. “You know...?” 

“I know you’re upset.” Skye’s voice softened. “You’ve been getting this terrible look on your face all night.” 

“Ugh... I didn’t realize I was being that obvious.” He slumped in his seat. “Hey, hey...” Skye walked over to Alrick and slid his hand along his cheek. “Do you want to get out of here?” 

The touch of his hand was enough to make Alrick melt. “Leave...?” 

“Of course,” Skye’s thumb trailed down the side of Alrick's jaw. “We could get a hotel room, just the two of us. I think I know something that will really make you feel better.” His voice was dark with promise. 

Alrick sighed before responding. The temptation to disappear with him was strong. It would be so easy for Alrick to lose himself in Skye, to forget all his worries if only for a little while. 

The feelings that Alrick had been fighting all night suddenly swallowed him whole. “Yeah,” he said, sinking into the comfort of Skye’s touch. “Yeah, let’s get out of here.” 

The hotel rose high above the expanse of the city, almost as high up as Alrick’s penthouse. It was lavishly decorated with the finest amenities, including a huge bar on the first floor. The room itself had a wide window that overlooked the other buildings of the district: glittering patches of light that faded away to the curling fog of the mountainside in the distance. 

It was a shame that neither of them noticed any of that. Alrick’s lips were locked onto Skye’s the minute they got into the car. They crashed into the hotel room, their hands fumbling against clothing and furniture. Alrick barely had time to catch his breath before Skye descended upon him, pushing him up against the wall and kissing his way down his body. The feel of his lips was enough to make Alrick’s eyes roll back in his head with pleasure, but he wasn’t content to lose himself in his mouth alone. Alrick wanted more, he needed more. If this was going to be their last night together he had to make it count. 

He resolutely moved Skye to the bed, lowering him onto his back like he had so many times. Alrick briefly remembered the first time they had snuck away to fuck. Skye had caught his eye from across the room, flashing Alrick a sensual smile. They had barely managed to find an empty room before Skye was lowering himself onto his knees, taking him into his mouth like a holy sacrament. It was hot and unbelievably addictive. They both knew without saying that one time wouldn’t be enough. 

The memory caused a twinge of pain to stir in Alrick’s chest and he buried himself in Skye to block out the pain. He fought it off bravely, taking solace in the other demon’s hands and thighs. He found peace in the taste of Skye’s lips, bringing him closer and closer to his mouth. Underneath him, Skye met each and every one of his thrusts with ease. They had been together so many times that it was almost second nature, but that didn’t mean that Alrick wasn’t spellbound by the sound of Skye’s voice in pleasure. Just the sound of his name as he arched underneath him was enough to send Alrick over and over the edge. 

Later, when they were both spent and clinging to one another for warmth, the guilt returned to Alrick. He had spent so much time with Skye today and he still hadn’t broken the news about the mating ceremony. Perhaps it would be worse now that they had spent the evening making love. 

“You know,” Skye lazily rolled onto Alrick’s chest, his wig slightly askew. “I’m going to be so upset if I can’t sit properly tomorrow because of you. I might have to call you back and return the favor.” 

Alrick stared at the ceiling with unseeing eyes. “You always promise that but you’ve yet been able to make me that sore.” 

“That sounds like a challenge- wait, you don’t look happy about that.” Akye propped himself up onto his elbow. “Pet name,” he used his ironic term of affection, “what’s wrong?” 

It was time. Alrick sat up slowly, extracting his limbs from their tangled mess. He swung his legs over the edge of the bed and avoided Skye’s confused gaze. 

Skye reached for Alrick’s shoulder and attempted to rub away his troubles. “Alrick, please... tell me what’s going on.” 

Alrick stared at the floor and took a moment before speaking. “Do you remember a few days ago when they found that human girl? The one they found at the edge of the mountainside?” 

“Of course I do,” Skye sat beside Alrick and carefully removed his wig. “It was all anyone could talk about. I just assumed she was going to be given to the demon lord who had found her.” 

Alrick’s hands were clenched into fists on his knees. “You’re not wrong.” Skye threaded his hand through Alrick’s hair. “I don’t see why that would make you this upset. Unless you wanted her for your own,” he chuckled hollowly. “Don’t tell me that you’re planning to leave me for a silly little human.” 

The silence that hung in the air was suffocating. Skye tried again, his voice tinged with panic. “You’re not really planning on abandoning me for a human. Right, Alrick?” 

“She...” Alrick’s shoulders sagged slightly. “She was found by my men. That means she belongs to me.” 

Skye’s hand froze in Alrick’s hair. “You can’t be serious.” 

“I am. She’s- we’re... I’m...” Alrick turned away, his heart feeling icy. “She’s going to be my future mate.” 

It was Skye’s turn to be silent. “Oh... Right, of course.” The resignation in his tone broke Alrick’s heart. Skye pulled away and wrapped his arms around his legs under the blanket. “Of course she is,” he continued. “You’re a prince, it’s only natural that one day you would... That we would have to end.” 

“I’m sorry... I never thought that this would happen-” 

“Don’t.” Skye cut him off. “Don’t say you didn’t know this was going to happen. You’ve always known what your role in the world is. You’re Alrick fucking Rosenfeld-” tears sprang at 

the corners of his eyes but he ignored them. “Don’t you even try to say that you weren’t going to leave me for a woman one day.” 

Alrick reeled from Skye’s anger. “Parakeet, this isn’t my fault. I wasn’t saying that this wasn’t inevitable, I just didn’t expect it to happen so soon.” 

Skye barely heard him. “Who cares about that? Now, later, it doesn’t matter. I guess it’s better this way, so I don’t get too attached.” 

“Parakeet-”

“Don’t!” Skye turned on Alrick, his golden eyes blazing. “How can you still call me that when you'll be sharing a bed with her?!” 

“Skye, this isn’t my choice!”

“It’s not mine either!” Skye stared down at his body, hating every inch of himself. “It’s not fair, it’s not fucking fair...” He wiped his eyes with a shaking hand and pulled the covers up over his chest. 

“I know it’s not fair...” Alrick reached and took his hand, tugging the blanket free from his fingers. “Skye, I promise you that I didn’t plan for any of this to happen.” 

Skye’s tears fell harder at the sincerity in Alrick’s voice. He shook his head and his tears dripped onto his scales, making them shine. “It doesn’t matter if you planned it or not, that doesn’t change the fact that it’s happening anyway!” 

“I know!” The words ripped themselves from Alrick’s mouth. “Do you think I want this? That I want to be trapped with someone I’ve only known for two days? To be mated to a human-” he choked on the word. He felt like he was repeating the argument he had with Lilly in some sick circle that never ended. “Nothing about this is my choice, Skye.” 

“Then don’t go through with it.” Skye threw himself out of bed and knelt before Alrick, pleading. “Turn her away, give her to someone else. You’re the prince Alrick, you can be with anyone you want.” His words came in a frantic rush as he beseeches Alrick. “You don’t have to live a life that’s not yours. Say there’s something wrong with her, say she’s defective. And then we can stay together!” 

“You know I have to-“

“Why?! Why is this so important to you, more important than me?” 

“Because you know we’re dying out.” Alrick felt detached from the situation like he was viewing all from a very long way away. “Because ever since we nearly wiped out the humans we’ve been unable to have any children of our own. I have to do this so our kind can have any sort of future, even if it’s one with mixed blood.” 

Skye sagged, defeated. “It’s not fair... I hate the humans for what they’ve done to us.” Alrick slid his hand along Skye’s jaw, tilting his face to meet his. “As do I, Parakeet. They’ve ruled over us for thousands of years, it’s not right that they kill us off like this. That’s why we have to keep fighting back. And why I as the prince have to fight back hardest of all.” 

Skye’s tears finally seemed to come to a close. “You’re right,” he murmured. “For the good of the people, right...?” 

“For the good of the people,” Alrick repeated bitterly. 

“Well...” Skye folded himself beside Alrick’s legs and leaned his head on his knee. “We still have until the ceremony. I can try to be by your side as much as possible before then. I’ll convince one of the Sakamakis to send me on errands for you. And maybe it won’t be so hard by the time the ceremony comes...” He reached for Alrick’s hand, placing it atop his own head. “How long do we have before she becomes your mate?” 

Shit. Alrick was a fool. How could he have thought that prolonging telling would have made this easier? He felt sick. Sick of himself, sick of his circumstances, and sick of the human girl who he just so happened to catch. “It’s tomorrow.” 

“Tomorrow?!” Skye’s head snapped back like he had been slapped. “Why did you wait until now to tell me?” 

All their promised time together came crashing down around them. After the mating ceremony, there would be no more sneaking around. Not because Alrick respected his human mate, but because he would be bound to her. Demon mating ceremonies were so much more than simple human weddings. If everything went as planned, he would want no other after her. They would be bonded for life. 

There was nothing more to say now. He could tell from the heartbroken look on Skye’s face that he made his mistake even bigger. Alrick stared past him and spoke to the opposite wall. “She was found only a few days ago, there wasn’t much time for me to-” 

“No, no! You could have told me when they found her! You could have told me when the damn council made their decision. You had days, Alrick. Days!” 

“I know!” He gave Skye a glare that stopped him from speaking. “I didn’t want to tell you because I didn’t want to fucking hurt you.” 

“C-can’t you see that this hurts me more?” Skye’s voice broke. “How can I go on knowing that this will always be our last night together? That you and I got into a fight because you were being stupid, uncaring, selfish-” 

“I’m not being selfish!”

“Yes, you are! Can’t you think about how this is affecting anyone but yourself?” “Parakeet!” Alrick cupped Skye’s cheeks and held him when he tried to jerk away. “You are the only other person who I care about right now. Not the council and definitely not her.” Alrick’s voice softened. “There is nothing in this world I would ever want to do to hurt you. Can’t you see how much I don’t want to do this? That it hurts me to hurt you like this...?” 

An explosive sob wrenched itself from within Skye’s chest. He collapsed forward into Alrick, crying freely into his arms. “I’m sorry,” Alrick whispered, tucking his head under his chin. “I’m so sorry, Skye...” 

They sat like that until Skye’s sobs became muffled sniffles. Alrick threw a glance out the window and saw the sky had lightened considerably. “Shit...” 

Skye followed his gaze. “You have to go, don’t you...?”

“I do.” Alrick sighed and felt a thousand years older. “The ceremony is in a few hours. I need to get some sleep.” 

Skye did not need Alrick to tell him what the ceremony entailed. He had seen a few himself, and he could not bear to watch Alrick fuck another woman- let alone see it on public display. “I won’t be there.” 

Alrick chuckled quietly and extracted himself from Skye’s grasp. “I wouldn’t want you to be. I don’t even want to be there myself-” he began finding his discarded clothes strewn about the room- “and I don’t have the luxury to blow it off.” 

Skye nodded and watched Alrick redress. Within minutes he was the same man who met him in the restaurant. Poised, calm, and unbearably handsome. Alrick ran a hand through his hair to smooth it back in place., completing the look. “I’m going to miss you...” 

“I”m going to miss you too, Parakeet... Swear that you’ll never forget me?” 

“How could I? I think you’ve ruined me for other men,” Skye laughed without humor. 

“Don’t say that,” Alrick stroked Skye’s cheek with the back of his hand. “Don’t let my departure ruin any of your future happiness. Promise me that.” 

“I’ll try...” 

“Thank you...” Alrick reluctantly let his hand drop. He moved to the door, his shoulders already stiff with apprehension. “I’ll see you when it’s over, Parakeet.” 

Skye did his best to smile. “You too, Pet Name...” Alrick gave Skye one last look, memorizing the way he looked under their messy bed sheets. Inside his chest he could feel his heart breaking. Alrick had been in pain many times before, but nothing so far had been as bad as this. 

He took a deep breath and buried his feelings as far down as they would go. He stepped through the door and into his new life. 

Skye did not sleep. He sat in the puddle of blankets Alrick left behind and felt utterly miserable. He wanted to cry but he had no more tears left. He wanted to scream, but his throat was raw from all the sobbing. He wanted to break every single thing in the damn room but he had no energy. All he could do was sit and feel horrible. 

There was nothing left for him to do anyway. Even without the human interfering, he and Alrick were never meant to be. He had just entertained the thought for far too long... 

He pressed a pillow to his face and fought off another round of sobs. Every fantasy he ever had with Alrick had been ripped to pieces within a few hours. He had so many dreams for the two of them, so many things that would have made him happy. And now there was nothing. 

Unless... If the human woman couldn’t produce children with Alrick she would be taken away, thrown in the brothel where she belonged. If they were a bad match she would be given to another demon, that was a possibility. Or perhaps an accident would befall her, something terrible like falling off a building. Maybe she would even do herself in. Skye heard she put up quite a fight when she was caught, and there was a rumor that her mother was one of the resistance leaders. And if all else failed, he would just have to wait. Human lives were so short compared to a demon’s. There was no law that said Alrick couldn’t take a new mate if his first one died. Skye settled into the bed, finally feeling some sort of peace. He could be patient, he could wait. And if he couldn’t there were then enough ways for him to rectify the situation. The human may have been Alrick’s mate after tomorrow, but she wouldn’t stay his mate for long. 

[quillerqueen]

Soul Searching (I Saw a Sign) 2/3

Day 6 of @oqfixitweek​. Roni day. Robin’s soul, previously stuck in limbo, was snatched up by the newest curse, and (with his body back) transported to Hyperion Heights. One not-so-fine day, his steps take him to a certain bar...or is it his heart? Unedited--please bear with me.

Part 1

Slings and Arrows

A week’s notice.

How on earth is he supposed to find a new place, much less move, in a mere week?

He’s pretty damn sure this can’t be legal, but he doesn’t have nearly enough to spare for legal advice or protracted lawsuits, and by the time he could possibly scrape something up, Belfrey Developments will have changed the entire neighbourhood beyond recognition.

Perhaps it’s time to move on and move out--of town. There’s nothing really keeping him here--no family to speak of, and as of yesterday no job either. In all honesty he’s no idea what’s kept him here so long--or why the thought of leaving it all behind makes his heart squeeze with an indistinct longing.

With his nose in the eviction notice, he misses his usual turn, and finds himself in a part of Hyperion Heights he’s never set foot in before.

“Bloody brilliant,” he mutters, looking up and down the unfamiliar street. There’s a police station on the corner, and he really doesn’t appreciate the irony of law enforcement laughing him in the face right now. He turns his back on the blasted building and sets off away from it, looking for some landmark to set him right.

Instead he finds a sign in his path, advertising beer and burgers. Roni’s, it says above, embellished by two crossed arrows of all things. And he might be pathetic and ridiculous and grasping at straws, but the reference is by far the only vaguely welcoming event of his day.

Besides, who’d say no to a nice, proper, home-made burger?

Unaware of the closed shutters, he reaches for the door and ventures inside, squinting into the change of light.

“We’re clo--”

Two steps in, his foot slips on the wet floor, and he waves his arms in the air wildly to regain balance but it’s too little too late.

With a fa-thud, he lands hard on his back, his right arm trapped under him in an effort to cushion the fall.

Cursing with abandon, he tries to push himself up, only to hiss in pain as his poor, useless arm gives in.

“Oh shit,” comes a voice amid hurrying footsteps, heels clacking on the floor, and then a low: “Fuck!”

And yeah, that sounds about right, he thinks dizzily with his eyes still closed.

When he finally forces them open, even the blurry sight of her knocks what little breath he’s left out of him.

“Anything broken?” she asks, swiping stray curls from her face to examine him more closely.

His heart, probably. Or perhaps stolen is more accurate.

“Oh no, it’s your head, isn’t it,” she huffs in alarm at his lack of response and reaches into her back pocket. “Best call an ambulance, hold on--”

“No, no, head’s fine,” he stammers at last. “My arm, not so much.”

She sighs at that, shaking her head.

“I’m so sorry, the door should’ve been locked. I’ve just been cleaning.”

“Forgive me, I must have misread--thought you were open from ten.”

“That’s PM. I run a bar, not a breakfast bar,” she sasses almost despite herself, and he can’t help but chuckle. “Although I have been known to open early lately--business hasn’t been great, what with Victoria Belfrey buying up everything left and right.”

“Belfrey? As in Belfrey Developments?”

She arches a finely sculpted brow.

“Know her, do you?”

“She’s  just turned me out on the street,” he groans bitterly as he struggles to get back on his feet. “Unless I find a new place within the week--which doesn’t seem terribly likely. I’m sure whoever buys the future condo will be pleased with it though.”

“That sounds like Victoria all right.”

She grabs him by the good arm when he sways groggily and leads him to the nearest stool, propping him up until he’s stable enough to sit by himself.

“So,” she tilts her head, curls bouncing gently, distractingly, “should I worry about an impending lawsuit?”

“Not from me,” he’s quick to reassure. Then, with a hopeful little thrill that seems entirely misplaced, he ventures: “Although a ride to the hospital would certainly be appreciated.”

“One condition.” He raises a questioning brow at her, half-smirking, enjoying the playful back and forth far too much what with the now excruciating pain in his arm. “I get to be the first to sign your cast.”

“My pleasure,” he smirks. “The name’s Fletcher, by the way.”

“Roni.”

She calls a friend, Henry, an amicable lad who appears within minutes with a vivacious ten-year old who asks him all manner of questions on the way, much to Roni’s amusement. He doesn’t mind, rather welcomes the cheerful distraction from the intensifying pain. They all stay to see him X-rayed and treated, and Lucy even manages to procure a marker somewhere for the promised autograph by the time they release him.

A week later, they’re helping him move into the fortuitously vacant,  tiny one-bedroom opposite Roni’s.

On his first night in his new home, he gets that coveted burger, and a drink for good measure--although he finds they both, while excellent, pale in comparison with the sheer delight of Roni’s company. She tells him about the joint effort to resist Belfrey, and he joins the cause immediately, jotting down clumsy, ineligible notes with his uninjured hand, delighting in Roni’s deep chuckle and lingering gaze.

The day his cast comes off, he returns the favour by treating her to home-cooked dinner and a movie, all perfectly decent and unassuming even though he misses most of An Affair To Remember due to his eyes constantly wandering from the screen and to her small frame wrapped up in his blanket, her gorgeous face relaxed and eyes shining with mirth at the characters’ antics then with tears towards the end, and he struggles to resist putting his arms around her and cradling her to his chest, yet manages to get through the evening with just a perfectly chaste kiss on the cheek to say goodnight.

The thought of leaving Seattle is unfathomable--that odd, once inexplicable longing now bearing Roni’s gorgeous face.

They flirt shamelessly for weeks, exchange heated glances and suggestive double entendres that make the air between them sizzle, and by the time she drunkenly confesses, eyes wide with fear, that she feels much too much for him to just take him to bed like she otherwise would have ages ago, he’s already head over heels in love with her.

He tells her he’ll wait until she’s ready, and that’s what he does. He waits. And waits. And waits.

Then one night she’s pounding on his door, with sleep-tousled hair and her nightgown untied, red-eyed and bare-faced, and he’s barely closed the door behind her before she has him pressed against it, kissing him fiercely, hungrily, desperately.

“I don’t wanna waste another minute,” she whispers as she leads him to the bedroom.

He thinks his heart will surely explode with joy, and bliss, and love.

And not for the first time, Lucy’s theory doesn’t seem so crazy after all.

Because as he and Roni lie together, sated and content, drifting into sweet slumber, he thinks surely this must be what a soul mate feels like.

Broken.

It sweeps the neighbourhood like a tidal wave, the staggering onslaught of magic as they all find themselves again.

Themselves, and each other.

And Robin is alive. He’s alive, body and soul again, and he’s running, weaving between cars and jumping over hedges, her name pushing to the forefront of his mind.

Regina.

He finds her in the bar, in a fierce hug with her son, grown and himself a father now. Robin’s heart cries out for Roland and his sweet baby daughter, neither of them children anymore, in some far away realm their next steps will no doubt lead to soon.

Regina gasps when she sees him.

Lucy, Jacinda and Henry all give him warm hugs before they discreetly slip out, leaving them to their much awaited, long overdue reunion.

“I thought you were gone,” she whispers, frozen in spot, as if moving so much as an eyelash might make him disappear again. “Forever lost to me. All that time, I mistook the signs, and even when I finally understood you were still out there, I failed over and over again to find a way to bring you back. And it took a curse, of all things, for you to finally return.”

She’s crying now, shaking and slumping into his chest the moment he takes her in his arms, and it kills him to see her drowning in guilt when they should be relieved, and happy, and celebrating.

“Oh, Regina,” he sighs, relishing the way her name rolls off his tongue. “Oh, my love...”

“You need to go,” she says, her breath hot against his neck, as she’s fisting his shirt.

“To find my son and daughter, yes. Do we procure a magic bean, or--”

“No, Robin.” She pushes him away, retreating a step, then another, until she’s put the bar between them (as if anything so mundane could ever keep them apart). “You need to get away from me. Forever.”

Robin knows where she’s coming from, and perhaps that’s why it’s so mind-numbingly painful to hear her say it.

“Regina--”

She shakes her head, refusing to allow his protestations.

“I’ll get you a bean, and of course I’ll help you find your children, but after that, we part ways.” Robin steps around the bar, leaving just enough space between them to not intrude on hers, and Regina swallows heavily, her voice as tiny as it’s ever been. “Few seem to survive my love. I won’t let you die for me again, Robin, I never want to--I just can’t.”

“I understand, truly I do, but Regina” he says desperately, reaching for her hand and pressing it to his heart. “I want to live, not just to survive. And I've never felt more alive than when I'm with you and our children. In every realm and every version of us, I’ve found you, and I’ve loved you.”

She sniffs at that, a tiny smile tucked carefully away as a battle rages in her. He sees it mirrored in her eyes, sees her fight her demons and defeat them once more, and that incredulous little smile blossoms into a wet chuckle in time with his own.

“I love you, too,” she says tenderly, and pulls him into a kiss to end all kisses.

And there’s so much left to be said, so much left to be worked through yet--such as his not-quite-death and the years apart--and even more to be done now that he’s back. There’s families to reunite and time to be made up for, and new beginnings to embark on. Perhaps some day they’ll even look into the mysterious workings of this soul mate connection more thoroughly.

But for now, this is enough.

[theclaravoyant]

AN ~ for the Anon who prompted, Fitz coming onto Daisy with Jemma’s blessing ~wink wink nudge nudge~. I’ve decided to split it into 2 chapters; this one’s more of a wink, chapter 2 is more of the nudge ;) it will be posted in the next few minutes though, bc I’m not gonna leave you hanging. Enjoy!

Rated T. FitzDaisy centric, bkground FitzSimmons, poly FitzSkimmons (open relationship style).

Read on AO3

Full of Surprises - Ch.1

“Can I buy you a drink?”

That was the start of it. Daisy raised her eyebrow a little. Fitz’s eyes were keen on her. He wasn’t offering the other agents, or patrons in the bar; wasn’t shouting them a round. He was intending to buy her a drink. Of course, they were the closest friends out of anyone else here, and maybe Fitz didn’t have the money to be splashing all over the place on alcohol, but something about the way he smiled to himself when she agreed made Daisy feel a little… something.

He brought the drinks back – one for her, one for himself – and shoved the money into his pocket with one hand as he passed hers over. He seemed to be bouncing on his toes a little, full of energy. Daisy frowned a little.

“Are you okay?”

He frowned back, and pulled himself together.

“Sure,” he said. “Fine.”

And he went back to drinking his beer, casual and calm, if a little stuck for conversation. His eyes trailed up to the TV screen in the corner and he smiled again, another little hope tugging at his lips.

“D’you watch the football?” he asked. Daisy rolled her eyes pointedly at the screen.

“I don’t really watch the soccer these days,” she said, “but I used to play, back when I was in school.”

“Any good?” “I dunno.”

Fitz snorted. “Maybe we should play one on one and find out.”

That was the second thing. Daisy narrowed her eyes and drew a slow but shallow draught from her own beer. Fitz had gone back to watching the football, but his fingers tapped and turned the glass in his hands, unable to settle. She would have chalked it up to well-deserved separation anxiety between him and Jemma, if not for the other types of weird energy that seemed to be hovering around him tonight. Daisy tapped at her own glass. Was something up with him? Was he just feeling weird and horny and not sure how to deal with it? Would bringing it up make it better or worse?

“Sure,” she said eventually. Fitz jumped, and spun to face her.

“What?” “I said sure,” Daisy repeated, slapping her glass back on the table and swaying up to him with bravado. “I’ll play you. Anytime, anywhere.”

She was so close to him they were almost touching now, and she grinned as Fitz’s eyes darted up and down what of her he could still see from this angle. His pupils were dark and dilated, and his lips hung a little open, as if he’d forgotten what do with them for a moment. Satisfied with her conclusion, Daisy backed off and settled down, desexualising her pose to that of a casual friend. She shrugged and slapped his shoulder amiably.

“You bet,” she said. “I’m sure I’ll pound you anyway.”

She sidled off toward the bathroom, and behind her, Fitz choked on his beer.

-

When she got to the bathroom, however, Daisy’s suave exterior had faded. She locked herself into a cubicle and paced, insofar as she could, the tiny space within, holding her cell-phone up to her ear, and waiting for Jemma to pick up.

“Daisy?” came the tiny, crackling voice eventually. “What’s up?”

“Everything’s good,” Daisy assured her. “Well, mission-wise. And everyone’s safe. It’s just… um. Fitz.”

Jemma chuckled.

“Oh?” she wondered innocently. “And what’s Fitz up to?”

“He, um.” Daisy bit her nail. “He was coming onto me, earlier. I don’t know if he meant anything by it, really, I mean I know his social skills aren’t amazing but I just… thought you should know… what he’s… Hold on, are you laughing?”

Jemma was.

“Oh, Daisy, come on. Do you really think Fitz, of all people, would be flirting with random girls in a bar without my express permission?”  

“Excuse me? ‘Random girls’?” Daisy squeaked.

“Well, he has my express permission to court whoever he pleases. I presume on this mission there’ll be a fair few bars and pubs involved – there always are. Q-E-D, random girl in a bar. He could have gone for anyone in there. He just happened to pick you.”

“I like to think he didn’t just choose at random, though,” Daisy retorted. “He probably picked me because – because of my stunning personality, or something.”

“Or because he’s had a crush on you since the first time he laid eyes on you,” Jemma suggested. Daisy blushed.

“Well - yeah, maybe –“ she spluttered, “but not since, you know, you.”

“And now that he has my permission, the first thing he does with it is you. And, yes, that double entendre was intentional. You should be flattered. ”  

Daisy could hear Jemma’s smugness through the speaker.

“And you’re cool that it’s me?” Daisy checked. “You don’t mind that I’m gonna be – I mean, that I might wanna… do Fitz back?”

“Well, do you?”

“No. Yes. Maybe. If he plays his cards right. This is a bit of a new situation for me, but even I have to admit he has a nice ass. And his cheekbones are really coming into themselves. And – “ Daisy cut herself off, biting her lip.

“Don’t feel bad about it, Daisy,” Jemma assured her. “We’re the ones that put the thought in your mind. You might as well enjoy it.”

“That’s easy to say now,” Daisy pointed out, “but are you going to feel the same way when push really comes to shove? Before any boundaries are or are not shifted I just want to be sure. We can’t unbang what’s been banged.”

“I do,” Jemma said, her tone slow and salacious. “If we’re being honest, the thought of the two of you together did seem strange at first but… I rather warmed to it, if you know what I mean.”

Heat rose in Daisy’s cheeks.

“Me - Me and Fitz?” she hissed into the speaker, fighting to keep her tone hushed as she remembered she was still in a public bathroom. “You got off to me and Fitz?”

“Well, not yet,” Jemma told her. “But I did have a few ideas. He’s an absolutely devilish kisser of necks, if that helps his case at all.”

Daisy tried to imagine it; the pressure, the passion, the way her knees would go weak and as Fitz- no. She slapped a hand against the cubicle wall.

“Fuck me,” she whispered, shocked. It was easier than she’d anticipated, to imagine it. Fitz wasn’t the smoothest at flirting itself, but he had passion to spare and if Jemma was showing him off, he must know what he was doing in the later stages. And she’d never minded a little stubble burn.

“So, it’s settled then,” Jemma declared.

“You’re a sly little minx, you know that?” Daisy retorted.

“I’m quite proud of it, in fact.”  

“Screw you.”

“Well, if Fitz is okay with it.”  

Daisy snorted. Spluttered. She wasn’t going to dignify that with a response. She wasn’t going to imagine the way Jemma’s smooth skin would feel in her hands. Nope. She clenched a fist.

“I have work to do,” she insisted, holding her chin up stubbornly although there was nobody around to see it.

“I don’t know, Fitz isn’t that much work,” Jemma pointed out, laughing as she knew she was stretching her limits by now. “And after all, wouldn’t it be plausible that two undercover computer geniuses might know each other in more than just the cyber sense? You two parading as a couple could quell any suspicions that may arise around your familiarity.”

“Right, and this is from a purely tactical perspective,” Daisy snorted.

“Oh, of course not! It’s easily 60% based on my own selfish reasons.”

“Well, at least you’re being honest with yourself.”

“And if you’re being honest with yourself, you’ll admit it’s a good idea.”  

It was, Daisy had to admit. The minx.

“Then let me get on with it,” she challenged.

“With pleasure.”  

Jemma hung up. Daisy smiled to herself as she tucked her phone away, and dug a coin out of her pocket for the condom machine. She wasn’t sure where her evening was going, but that direction seemed increasingly likely, and ever more so as she paused to check herself in the mirror. She fluffed her hair. Adjusted the neckline of her dress. Pouted at herself in the mirror. Ladykiller. Maneater. Fitz wouldn’t know what hit him.

[sindrafalcone]

The Mom Ch. 6

Fandom: BIGBANG/ Choi Seung Hyun

Synopsis: First words

Warnings: Flirting, fluff, the beginnings of angst. This chapter has it all! lol

Author’s Note: Remember that cliffhanger I left you with back in chapter 3? Yeah, it’s finally coming back into play. Sorry it took so long for me to work back around to it. Also, thanks for being understanding about the delay with this chapter. I really appreciate having awesome followers like you guys! <3

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. This story contains fictional representations of real people. None of the events are true. This is from an American standpoint, so some of the situations may not happen the same way they might in Korea. I make no money from the writing of this fictional work.

Masterlist

It was only about a week into tour & Seung Hyun was already missing you and the twins terribly. He'd just finished his shower after coming back to the hotel once the show was finished. The others were all out partying, but his current foul mood didn't make him good company to tag along. So instead he had just dragged his tired, moody self back to the hotel alone.

Absently, Seung Hyun dug through his suitcase in search of a pair of clean pajamas. What he pulled out instead left him completely tongue-tied and breathless as he held up a red lacy thong. A low growl of heated frustration came from his throat as he studied the skimpy material. He suddenly began to imagine you sauntering towards him while wearing it.

He pinched the bridge of his nose, quickly finding himself so aroused that he could barely move let alone think straight. Warning signals began firing in his brain telling him to put the tiny scrap of red material away before he completely lost it.

Seung Hyun hastily grabbed his phone from the nightstand to call you. He listened to it ring as he continued to dig through his suitcase.

“You are so going to get it when I get home...” he hissed to himself as he stuffed the underwear back into the luggage before finally finding what he had initially been looking for.

He didn’t care if you were asleep or not, knowing that you probably weren't. And even if you were actually asleep, you more than deserved to be woken up, to know that you would eventually be paying for your deviousness.

“Who is this?” you asked when you answered, even though you already knew.

The sound of your sweet innocent voice over the phone sent a shiver of desire slicing through him, knowing you were anything but when it came to being alone with him.

“You know damn well.” he rasped as he untied the belt on the bathrobe, letting it fall to the floor at his feet.

“Hmmm…I know several men so you’ll have to be a little more specific.”

He could practically hear the corners of your beautiful lips curling with your tease. It was driving him absolutely wild.

“You better not know any other man but me.” he growled with a possessive ferocity that only hinted at the true depths that his jealousy could plunge.

The soft hint of a gasp on the other end of the line brought a measure of satisfaction to the rapper.

“Oh, yes...” you purred with a lovable naivete. “I think I know who this is now.”

Seung Hyun paused to inhale deeply, doing his best to keep himself in complete control as he sat down on the bed to put his pajamas on. You were heating his blood to new levels and you weren't even anywhere near him.

“I believe I found something that belongs to you in my luggage.” he evenly told you, sliding his legs into the pants.

“Oh really?” you coyly replied, acting as if you weren’t the least bit interested. “I wonder what that could possibly be. Maybe you could bring it to me sometime.”

“I plan on giving it to you... just as soon as I get home.” Seung Hyun said, the double entendre was intended, the heat in his voice revealing just how much you were affecting him.

There was a definite pause and a possible muffled moan somewhere in there before you finally responded, your voice proving you’d recovered from whatever reaction his words had caused. “Actually, I was just about to go to sleep so maybe some other time?”

“I don’t think so.” he nearly snarled at you. “I will be coming for you, just as soon as this damn tour is over.”

“Is that a threat or a promise?” you asked, slightly breathless.

“Both.” he snapped in that voice that was deep, rough and powerfully demanding.

“Not until you’ve found all three pieces.” you told him with a smile.

“Three?”

“If you found it in your suitcase, that means you haven't found the garter belt yet.”

“Garter belt?” Seung Hyun's head snapped up, his minding completely racing much like his heart rate was now.

Where on earth could you have hidden that? He fought against the overwhelming urge to search every single inch of his belongings.

“Yes… garter belt.” you repeated. “I believe you know what that is… don’t you, T.O.P?”

You let the initials of his stage name roll off of your tongue, drawing them out and allowing them to hang sensually in the air between you. You heard a deep groan rumble through your phone, telling you that you had just won yourself another small victory in the war of seduction against your husband.

“Yes, I know what a garter belt is.” he ground out through clenched teeth. “You do know that you’re really playing with fire now, right?”

“I’m sure I don’t know what you’re referring to.” you sweetly replied. You could practically feel his desperation and frustration through the call.

“I will be getting revenge.” he warned you.

“By the way, you might come across one or two more…things.” you mysteriously informed him, ignoring his threat.

His mind continued to race, trying to think of what else you could have done or could have added to the erotic item that you had already left for him. It was beginning to take him to places he shouldn’t go right now, no matter how desperate he was becoming at the moment.

“You are such a damn tease.” his gravelly voice finally came through. “If you thought what happened before I left was bad... just you wait. It’s about to get much worse.”

His threat was followed by complete silence, taking him by surprise. His princess always had a comeback of some sort, some biting retort to get under his skin. The fact that you could not only take his teasing, but dish out your own, was one of the things he dearly loved about you.

“I’m sorry did you say something? I was busy adjusting my red stockings.” you lied glibly. Then you added a little lilting laugh at the end that was so damn cute he didn’t even realize how tightly he was gripping his pajama shirt in his hand... until one of the buttons started biting into the skin of his palm.

The next response you received from your husband was a strangled choking sound, something akin to the sound of someone dying.

“Are you trying to kill me?” he growled.

“Do you give up the game then?” you asked with another laugh. “If you do, then I win.”

“Hell no!” he adamantly declared. “You already think I started all of this so I’m going to make damn sure that I’m the one who finishes it.”

“We’ll just see about that, naui wangja.” you seductively teased. “Just remember, you can't play until you've found everything I left for you. Good thing you have another month of tour to figure it out. Love you.”

The line suddenly went dead, leaving him hanging and wanting... without getting the last word in.

“Are you sure you're ready?” you asked Yeon Jun, yet again.

“Yes, Imo.” the boy said with a sigh. “I know what I'm doing by now.”

“Right... sorry.” you gave him an apologetic smile.

Your nephew had been your partner in crime when it came to helping you record videos of the twins so you could send them to his Uncle while he was away. He was pretty good at it for a kid his age & worked for fairly cheap. Just a few homemade cookies were all you needed to pay him.

“Okay then. Just let me know when you start it up again.”

“Go!” he giggled excitedly.

“Seung Min...” you gently called out to your son from where you were sprawled out on the floor, a few feet away from him.

The boy turned his head towards the sound of your voice and pulled himself up on all fours, grunting with the effort and wobbling slightly.

“Come on, Thing 2.” you coaxed. “You can do it. Crawl to Eomma...”

After a few more gurgling noises, Seung Min began to slowly crawl his way across the floor towards you.

“He's doing it!” Yeon Jun called out in excitement, trying his best to keep your phone steady as he recorded.

Seung Min finally managed to reach you and you grabbed hold of him under his arms, rolling over and holding him triumphantly above you as you laid in the floor.

“You did it!”

The boy kicked his feet and waved his arms in an excited string of babbling squeals that finally ended in a jabbered “Eomma”. You and Yeon Jun both froze at the unexpected word, staring at each other before turning to look back at Seung Min in shock.

You sat up quickly, settling your son into your lap as you hurriedly swiped at the tears of joy that were falling down your cheeks. You held your hand out to Yeon Jun, a silent request for him to give you the phone. He handed it over to you, but he had a suspicious look in his eyes.

“What are you doing?” he asked cautiously.

“I'm going to delete that one and then we'll try it again.” you said, fingers already swiping through the menu.

“What?! Why?!?”

“Because, rabbit... your Uncle will be crushed if he has to hear his son's first words through a recording. He's missed so much already...” you answered quietly, a fresh wave of tears making their way down your face.

“No!” your nephew's hand shot out to cover yours in an attempt to stop you. “You can't just delete that, Imo. It's his first word. Don't you want to keep it forever? Besides, we can record another one for you to send Samchon now & then you can always let him see that one later.”

“You're right.” you finally agreed, taking a deep breath in an attempt to relax yourself. “You know, for a kid your age, you're surprisingly wise. How did you get so smart?”

Yeon Jun just smiled at you as you handed the phone back to him so he could record another video for Seung Hyun.

“Oh, it's nothing really.” the boy said mischievously. “I had a really smart Nanny...”

A month later, you were in the kitchen with your mother in law when you heard the front door open and close, signaling that your husband was finally home from tour. You rushed out the door and towards the sound, completely ignoring the fact that you still had Sung Ja in your arms. You rounded the corner and couldn't help but smile as you caught your first glimpse of your husband in two months.

“Welcome home, yeobo.” you said, walking briskly towards him.

He opened his mouth to answer you as he slid off his shoes, but before he even got the chance to say anything, Sung Ja lunged forward as soon as she spotted her father.

“Appa!” the little girl cried out in joy.

“Did she just say what I think she said?” Seung Hyun asked in bewilderment as he hastily caught his daughter. “Did you just say appa?”

Sung Ja babbled again in response, a string of indecipherable words that ended in a more pronounced “appa” this time as she patted her father's cheek as if to prove her point. You looked at Seung Hyun, only to see his eyes growing wet, a goofy grin on his face that told you that his heart had just swelled beyond measure.

“Was that...?” he asked you breathlessly.

“Her first word?” you asked & he nodded. “Yeah... yeah it was. Seung Hyun...” you softly murmured, tears suddenly glistening in your own eyes to see your husband so happy.

He looked over at you, his smile growing even wider with the pride and love that he felt at that moment.

“I can’t believe she said it.” he slowly shook his head in disbelief. “Her first word was ‘appa’.”

You smiled as you watched your husband. “I’m so glad that you were able to hear her first word.”

“It was amazing.” he thoughtfully replied. “I never thought it would… that it…”

“Would mean so much to you?” you knowingly finished for him.

He slowly nodded his head, gathering his emotions and tucking them deep in his heart to dwell on later when he was alone.

“I never got to have these kids of experiences with Yeon Jun or Seon Hwa.”

“This is all new to me too.” you reminded him, affectionately caressing the back of his hand with your thumb. “I love every single moment of this life with you, Seung Hyun. Thank you for being willing to share it with me, for giving me the twins.”

He reached over to brush a lock of hair behind your ear, his hand lingering against your cheek. “I’m the one who should be thanking you, gongju-nim.” he softly said as he stared into the most beautiful eyes he’d ever seen. “If you hadn’t been so patient, so persistent, I would’ve missed out on so much in life. I’m just sorry her first word wasn’t eomma.”

You gently shook your head as your smile spread, a hand coming to rest against his still cupped against your cheek to keep it there.

“I’m not.” you grinned. “Just seeing the sheer joy on your face when she said that was worth more than the world to me.”

You just didn't have the heart to tell him that Seung Min had been saying eomma for almost a month now. It just wasn't the right time. You'd tell him later... when he wasn't so emotional. In fact you were relieved that your daughter had finally spoken. You were beginning to worry and had thought about setting up an appointment with the pediatrician just to have her checked out.

Seung Hyun smiled in return as he leaned in close. In one smooth motion, he pulled you into his free arm and kissed you slowly…deeply, his hand sliding from your cheek up into your hair.

“Do you surrender yet?” you finally asked as you broke the kiss, reminding him of your game of cat & mouse.

“Never, _______-ah… this is war.” he muttered before kissing you again.

The kiss continued to deepen, passion flaring and set to explode right there in the entryway. He had never wanted someone so much or so desperately as he always wanted you, needed you. He wanted to take you upstairs right then and there, forgetting all about the planned welcome home dinner.

“Son, if you’d be so kind as to allow ________-ah to have her tongue back, the twins need to be fed so that I can finish cooking.” Seung Hyun's mother announced primly from behind you.

Her tone may have been reprimanding, but her eyes were sparkling with true amusement and happiness with witnessing just how in love her son was.

“We’ll be right there, eomma.” Seung Hyun frowned, keeping you tight in his arms.

Seung Hyun stood just inside the kitchen with his arms folded against his chest, watching as his wife fed his son…or at least attempted to. Seung Min was anything but interested in the baby food you were attempting to feed him.

The baby's building frustration readily equaled that of his mother’s as you tried to “choo-choo” the spoon of baby food to his mouth again for the umpteenth time. By the amount of baby food covering his son’s face and bib, he could tell that your previous attempts had been very unsuccessful so far.

Seung Min pinched his lips tightly shut, shaking his head furiously in a stubborn yet valiant attempt to avoid what was coming. The glare he gave you caused Seung Hyun to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing, immense pride swelling in his chest. He was most definitely his son in every way imaginable.

If that wasn’t a patented T.O.P glare, he didn’t know what was. Watching him, Seung Hyun couldn’t help but feel as though he was looking into a mirror of his past, seeing himself as he was at that age, you looking every bit like his perpetually long-suffering mother.

“Seung Min...” you cooed with unbelievable patience as you held the spoon out before him. “It’s yummy… and it’s your favorite.”

The boy finally opened his mouth, giving you a false sense of victory as he seemingly accepted the food only to spit it out all over you.

“Choi Seung Min!” you cried in stunned annoyance, grabbing a napkin and attempting to wipe the offending food off your shirt.

A familiar snicker could be heard from the other side of the kitchen, one that no doubt belonged to your mother in law.

“_______-ah...” she said with amusement coloring her voice. “Might I suggest giving him a small taste of these eggs? He might enjoy it much more than his applesauce.”

“I guess the doctor did say we could start trying them on soft foods.” you frowned, looking down in annoyance at your blouse covered in wet splotches.

Seung Hyun decided now was a very good time to make his presence known, coming to his wife’s rescue.

“Need some help, yeobo?” he asked, doing his best to keep the laughter from his voice, but he knew he had failed miserably. You looked hilarious covered in baby food coupled with the look of annoyance on your face.

“Might as well let you try.” you replied with a frown. “Especially since you’ve been standing there watching me fight with him for a while now.”

Your husband kissed you on the forehead in a silent apology before settling down in his chair on the other side of Seung Min's highchair.

“Hey there, Thing 2.” he greeted his son, his hand reaching to caress the back of his head. “Are you giving your mother fits?”

“That’s putting it mildly.” his mother quipped from behind the kitchen counter as she finished making dinner. “It seems to me that it’s far more ‘like father, like son’.”

“Seung Hyun was just like this when he was Seung Min's age?” you asked, casting a glance at your mother in law, her eyes brightly gleaming with joy as well as remembrance. “Why am I not the least bit surprised?”

“Hey, I was a very well behaved little boy.” he insisted as he picked up the spoon to try again. “In fact, I was the perfect child.”

His mother's snort of laughter caught both of your attentions, causing you to stop and look at her.

“That’s not quite the way I remember it, Seung Hyun. I believe I spent more time cleaning the walls and floors of the kitchen and dining room because of your numerous fits when it came to food. We were wrapped up in quite the battle of wills back then.”

“Yes, well you’re getting up there in years, eomma.” Seung Hyun reminded her with mock indignation. “A person’s memory can be unpredictable at your age.”

“I will have you know my memory is as sharp as it has ever been!” she replied with chin held high, coming around the counter with a plate in hand to place it on the table. “In fact, I remember me wearing your baby food much like your wife is now. It seems the apple doesn’t fall very far from the proverbial tree.”

“Must have been my sister you’re remembering.” he told her with a shake of his head. “Either that or this isn’t really my son.”

You bit back a grin as Seung Hyun began to feed his son the baby food, anxiously anticipating the moment that he would be sharing your fate. His expensive shirt and pants weren’t about to last long at the rate Seung Min was going this afternoon.

“Oh, this is most definitely your child, son.” she vehemently countered. “He’s exactly like you not only in looks but also a very iron-will personality.”

“I still think he gets his stubbornness from _______-ah.” Seung Hyun firmly decided. “This can’t all be just from me.”

You frowned in confusion as you watched Seung Min readily eat his breakfast as his father fed him, happily accepting the applesauce and not even noticing the plate full of eggs.

“How are you doing that?” you demanded with a quirked eyebrow, your agitation growing.

“I’m his favorite.” Seung Hyun shrugged, flashing you a cocky grin as he fed his son. “Besides, he’s daddy’s little man, aren’t you, Seung Min?”

The other members of Bigbang as well as your sister in law, niece and nephew had all just arrived for the celebratory dinner. In the middle of all the hustle of greeting and hugs, the doorbell rang.

“I'll get it!” Hye Yoon called out and walked out of the living room to answer the door.

You watched with a smile as Yeon Jun led his sister down the hallway towards the playroom. Turning around you saw that Jiyong already had Sung Ja in his arms and Seung Hyun was holding Seung Min as the two men talked.

You had just started up a conversation with Daesung and Youngbae when you heard your sister in law call out your name as she reentered the room.

“________-ah!” she said excitedly. “You have a surprise visitor.”

You turned away from your brothers to see what she was talking about, but as soon as you caught sight of who she had just let in your home, you felt all the color drain from your face.  

“No...” you whispered, feeling sick to your stomach.

Suddenly, Seungri ran towards you from the other side of the room where he'd been chatting with Seung Hyun's mother. He slid a little in his sock feet across the hardwood floor & threw his arms out in front of you as if to protect you.

“________-ah?” your husband asked, confused. “What's going on? Who is this?”

Before you even had a chance to answer, the maknae did it for you.

“That's her sister...”

[illuminating-dragons]

By Any Name (5/11): Reichenbach

Chapter Summary: In order to satisfy Mycroft, John and Sherlock take some 'vacation' time playing rather irritating(?) roles. The site of their vacation, however, might bring up some bad memories... Warnings for fake slash (sorry, this one's not a Johnlock fic....at least not precisely) and death imagery, both BBC and original scenes. 

Read it on AO3  

(For Arvi, who asked for it): Incident At New Dehli Interlude

John skulked around the corner, listening to Sherlock speak to the detective who had just taken all the credit for the case. Which was fine, of course, except he’d gotten something wrong.

“There was no ice cream involved!” he hissed to Sherlock as they ran back to the plane. “They ate a whole bunch of desserts that day, but not ice cream!”

Sherlock, still with his stupid ginger hair (they both needed haircuts. And dye jobs), shook his head. “No one will notice. It was for the Boss’ benefit.”

“Oh yeah?”

Sherlock smiled quickly. “When I was six I figured out who had raided our fridge by that very means; he’d left it on the counter while he was stuffing his face. Mummy wasn’t pleased.”

It was a beautiful, clear day in February, Valentine’s day, in fact, and all of Geneva was celebrating the day of love. Lovers were planning special dinners, days off, and divorces. Some were doing day trips together, away from the pressures of city life.

One such couple was doing just that. They’d arrived in Geneva from Maine just the night before, celebrating their honeymoon in fine fashion in one of the nicer hotels. As they giggled to the concierge that morning, they wanted to rent a car and drive into the mountains; they were both expert climbers, and the falls were ‘so romantic’.

The concierge dealt with them quickly. Between the proliferation of pet names, the constant kissing and the double-entendre-laced talk, he wanted them out of the lobby as quickly as possible.

He wouldn’t have been surprised to hear that the car pulled over quite soon out of Geneva. He would have been shocked, however, that it was because the driver couldn’t stop laughing.

John wiped his eyes as best he could, still giggling. “What the hell did you call me?”

Sherlock was leaning back in his seat, trying to get his breath under control. “Which do you mean—lovely hedgehog or sweet munpty?”

“The last one—does that even mean anything?”

“I’ve absolutely no idea.”

John bent forward against the steering wheel and started laughing again.

This was fun. Tibet had not been fun. La Fiore was easy enough to find; she didn’t even bother with a disguise in a monastery, and it took exactly three hours to expose her.

Questioning her was more arduous, but they eventually got her to understand that yes, Moriarty was gone, and yes, she was going to go to prison for a very long time no matter how cooperative she was, but they might be able to get her into a prison without people knowing her name if she gave them some others.

After that, still loopy with jet lag, they handed her off to Mycroft’s Asian squad (who were again, all women. John was all for equal opportunity employment, but he didn’t think Mycroft was).

The problem with La Fiore was that she was replacing a drug smuggler. In order to have made that deal, they had to be on the same team, which they were. Conveniently, they were both part of the Web, which meant they had gotten two of Moriarty’s players. This was good.

What was not good was the revelation that there was an Asian connection at all. Sherlock knew beforehand that Moriarty occasionally brought in players from Asia—like the Black Lotus, for example—but they were always specialists, performing tasks that couldn’t be done right by any of his European contacts.

At least, that was the theory.

In actuality, Moriarty had a small but extremely effective presence in Asia, linked mostly through trafficking of various kinds. They answered directly to him and were considered an integral part of his operations. This was worrisome, because the whole Web had to be taken down to avoid a comeback, but good, because they were already in Asia and they could deal with the problem. Activity in Europe had come to a halt anyways; the Web had figured out that someone was hunting them down.

It took three months for them to tidy things up. They’d crossed several borders, gone through seventeen different languages (at least Sherlock did) and solved several cold cases.

Even though John was glad they were making steady progress, he was relieved when Mycroft called them back to Europe. Things were still quiet, but the Eastern Web was crumbling beautifully and they weren’t really needed anymore. Between Interpol and the yakuza, things would settle down again.

They were supposed to fly into Vienna from Maine (the long way around was still the safest bet), but Sherlock changed their tickets at the last moment, sending them to Geneva.

“Do we need to go to the bank or something?” John asked.

Sherlock didn’t answer, and stayed very quiet for the rest of the flight. John tried to sleep, but Sherlock staring out the window into dark night worried him enough to keep him awake.

Right at the end of the flight Sherlock did something very unexpected. He leaned against John and snuggled into him, holding his hand tightly as he did so. John stared at him, afraid to move. Clearly Sherlock was losing his mind. Drastic action might be necessary.

“I’m so glad we’re almost there, darling.”

American accent, dripping with sentiment Sherlock would rather be caught dead than actually utter. Hands clinging tight, but still giving John personal space.

Oh.

So they were playing a couple this time then. Right then.

John put his arm around Sherlock. “So am I, pet,” he replied, trying to make his voice rumble. He lowered it and leaned over him. “I can’t wait for the hotel room.”

Sherlock giggled (oh God, maybe he was really going mad). He placed a kiss on John’s hand, holding it for a second. John felt him slip something onto it, cool and smooth.

John entwined Sherlock’s fingers with his and admired his wedding ring. Simple gold with a thinner band of silver within, a small diamond in the centre. It was a nice ring, one that John could see purchasing for himself.

Sherlock was wearing one too. His matched exactly, which didn’t quite fit. If Sherlock Holmes ever got married (and John really, really wanted to meet the person that would make Sherlock want to say I do) he would either wear a plain ring around a chain to keep it out of the way, or one so ostentatious that the tabloids would both cheer and debase for months. He certainly wouldn’t wear an identical ring to his wife…or husband.

The plane did eventually land and the plan was revealed. Mycroft was apparently concerned about John’s capacity to play roles other than Sherlock’s brother after the last three months. If they managed to play convincing husbands during this ‘vacation’ Big Brother would leave them be. Sherlock didn’t mention the consequences of getting it wrong; John understood.

That didn’t mean they couldn’t have fun.

John could not believe how sappy people thought honeymooners were.

Sherlock wouldn’t stop putting his arm around him, kissing him, calling him ‘darling’…the people at the hotel just ate it up. They thought their love story (camping outside a registry three days before the vote even went through to make sure they could get married first, after six years of dating begun at a production of RENT) was adorable, they loved their honeymoon plans (“to see gorgeous places with the most gorgeous man I’ve ever met”) and even gave them the nice honeymoon suite, with a ridiculously big tub and a bed that looked and felt embarrassing.

At first John stayed quiet and let Sherlock do most of the talking. He figured that was what people expected. He was alright looking, but even he knew that Sherlock was an attractive man to a large part of the population (before he opened his mouth, that is), and therefore drew attention. People didn’t always notice John when they were together, and he was fine with that. Wouldn’t that be the same if they were married?

But.

But if they were married, would he really shut up? Would he really not talk to his husband, touch him, kiss him back? And besides, he wasn’t supposed to be himself, he was supposed to be Owen’s husband Archie, and Archie wouldn’t be so much like John. If Archie was just like John, then John wasn’t really acting, and Mycroft might pull him out, back to London, where he couldn’t protect Sherlock.

And besides, if Mycroft was keeping a close eye, why not give him a show?

So Archie flirted right back, leaned against his husband, returned his kisses. Archie talked loudly about how amazing Owen was in every possible way. Archie embarrassed everyone at the hotel with his double-entendre- heavy talk, to the point where they couldn’t really be considered double-entendres anymore.

Archie, in short, was an obnoxious honeymooner, usually the kind that was murdered in crime shows.

At least they were a happy couple.

He and Sherlock hadn’t slept well that night, they were too busy laughing at each other. It didn’t really matter; after all, they were on vacation. They were supposed to be in Geneva for a few more days before heading out again, and John was honestly relieved. He wanted to get home soon, of course, and every day that Moriarty’s Web was still active was a bad day, but he was tired after three months of moving non-stop. A little break wouldn’t hurt.

“How far is it?” he asked, now they were in the car.

“The route’s marked on the map, darling,” Sherlock muttered, leaning his seat back. “It’s about three hours, maybe three and a half if the roads are bad.”

John looked at the map, tracing the blue line with his finger. It took them to the north-west, not terribly far, up to the mountains.

Reichenbach Falls.

It was Sherlock’s idea, hiking up a mountain in February to see the subject of the painting that started…the end. No, not the end. Sherlock was alive. Sherlock was here. It was a beautiful painting; John hoped it did the falls justice. He supposed they'd find out soon.

The drive was blissfully quiet, both of them tired of talking after non-stop lovey-dovey nonsense. John hadn’t driven in a long time (who needs a car when there’s running, cabs, the Tube and occasional rides in government vehicles?) and he found he actually missed it. The countryside was lovely and snowy, a winter like he hadn’t seen in years.

So why did he just want this day to be over?

After a climb that fully tested John’s hiking experience, they reached the Falls. No one else was around, it being the middle of February, after all, and they stood together in silence, watching the water fall over the cliffs, boiling in the pit below. The roar was horrendously loud, drumming in John’s ears, and it felt colder here than anywhere else on the mountain.

Sherlock stood near the fence, looking down.

John stepped nearer. “You don’t have to stand so close.”

Sherlock looked sideways. “I just want to see for a minute.” His face was drawn, but he tried to smile. “Don’t worry, I won’t look longer than I can stand.”

John gritted his teeth and looked too. The rocks were clouded by foam, but they still looked wicked sharp. The water never stopped, eerie in the cold, and every so often there was a shriek mixed in with the thunder.

John shuddered. The shriek sounded human, full of rage and despair. Like someone’s life work was being destroyed in front of them…

A thought struck him.

“Could it have happened here?”

Sherlock looked him straight in the eye. “It could have.”

John looked away. He wondered how it would have been; the two geniuses locked in battle on these cliffs, away from the city that was their normal battleground, far from their support systems, alone in this isolated hellscape.

Would it have had the same outcome? Would he have been there to witness it? Or would he be waiting for Sherlock to come back on a plane that would never take off?

Would the pit have been a shared grave for Sherlock and Moriarty?

Without thinking about it, John took Sherlock’s hand. Sherlock squeezed it, and didn’t let go. Without discussing it, they turned around and left the thundering, screaming falls behind them. Without letting go of each other, they drove back to Geneva.

The swirling, rushing, hateful water followed John into his dreams that night.

Horror-stricken, he watched as Sherlock stood on the roof of St. Bart’s—no, he was on the edge of the cliff of Reichenbach in summertime, still terribly isolated—no, he was in London, the tabloids howling for his blood. Moriarty was there too—no he wasn’t—yes he was, already dead—no he wasn’t dead, but he was about to be, grappling with Sherlock on the cliff side.

Either way, it didn’t matter.

Whether he was standing across the street or just a few metres away on the trail, John was helpless. Sherlock fell with-Moriarty-without-Moriarty-with Moriarty-already-dead but it didn’t matter, it didn’t matter whether Moriarty was alive or dead because John knew this time Sherlock had no plan, that he was really dead and gone, and John was alone again, alone-oh-God-please-not again!

John woke with a violent shove, trying to push away the restraints that held him back from his friend’s side, from (maybe) jumping after him…

“Wake up! It’s alright!”

John stopped fighting, just for a second. It was long enough to see that yes, he was awake, in a hotel in Geneva, in a ridiculous bed with the bedside lava lamp glowing. The restraints were simply Sherlock’s hands, trying to keep him still.

Right, of course. Archie shouldn’t be screaming from nightmares at all. He was a bookshop owner, for God’s sake. What would he be having nightmares about—shoplifting? Certainly not his husband being murdered in front of his eyes in two different places by their worst enemy.

Well, his fake husband, but still.

He had to stay in character, or he’d be sent home. Away from Sherlock, where he couldn’t see him. Where he couldn’t protect him.

John gulped, trying to regain control of himself, to slow his pulse. Sherlock was still holding on tightly to his left wrist, right shoulder. He was taking John’s pulse, not very subtly. “What’s wrong?”

“Weird nightmare,” John managed. This wasn’t the place to talk about, not the time, and anyways, that’s all it was. A weird nightmare, it wasn’t real, Sherlock was here, he wasn’t gone.

Sherlock stared at him intently, eyes nearly glowing in the lava light. John stared back, trying to convince himself of Sherlock’s safety.

Sherlock solved the problem by gathering into his arms, holding him close, lying down again. John didn’t fight, what was the point? Sherlock was stronger than he was, always had been.

“I’m here, John,” Sherlock whispered.

Smarter, too.

John buried his face in Sherlock’s shoulder, shaking and sobbing violently. He had never broken down like this in his life, not when he found out that Afghanistan had taken his future from him, not even when Sherlock fell off St. Bart’s in front of his eyes. He wouldn’t have dared be so out of control. For some reason, he felt safer now. He knew Sherlock wouldn’t mind.

Sherlock didn’t speak again, didn’t move, just let John fall apart.

It was John who finally pulled away. “Sorry, love,” he tried to smile. “It was just—”

“Drop it.” Sherlock put his hand on John’s face. “No one can hear us.”

“He’ll know,” John whispered. “He’ll know, somehow. He’ll take me away from you…”

“He won’t. I promise.” Sherlock’s eyes were glimmering with worry. “John, you’re safe.”

“Doesn’t matter if—if I’m safe,” John choked. He was trying to calm down, but his breathing was getting faster. Slow down! He instructed himself. His lungs didn’t cooperate.

Sherlock pulled him close again. “Of course that matters,” he said sternly. “You’re important, John, extremely so. Don’t ever say that again.”

“I only matter if—if you’re safe,” John tried to explain.

“Excuse me?”

“’Member when I told you…when I got murdered, I said please God let me live?” John didn’t wait for Sherlock to respond. “It was only survival instinct. There wasn’t anybody to come back for, nobody who would miss me.”

Sherlock said nothing.

“You saw it yourself,” John tried to help. “No close family, no relationship with my sister…I rented with a mad stranger, did you not think that was odd?”

“I met you, and then I met Mrs. Hudson, and Greg, and Molly, and even Mycroft…the first real friends I’ve had in ages. I was alone, and I owed you so much…those weren’t just words, Sherlock. You made me matter.”

Sherlock gripped him so tightly John’s shoulder protested.

“I didn’t realize,” Sherlock whispered. “I thought—you were happy with other people. You had friends, you knew how to make new ones. I thought you would be alright.”

“Maybe I would have been,” John agreed. “But it would have been right back to the beginning, and…I didn’t want to go there.”

“I should never have made that plan in the first place.”

John knew what he was talking about. The plan, that was put into place before Sherlock even knew about the snipers. The plan that would have taken him away from John anyways.

“You were trying to protect us,” he answered. “I’m not angry, at least not anymore, but Sherlock promise me…”

“Anything.”

“You can’t leave me again.” John looked up at him. “You can’t decide that I can live better without you than you without me. We’re partners in this, and if we die together, then so be it. I can think of worse things to die for.”

Sherlock looked down at him, indecision clouding his gaze.

“Please, Sherlock,” John whispered. “Don’t leave me. Please. I can’t be alone again.”

Sherlock sighed. “I promise.” He tucked John’s head under his chin. “But you can’t leave me either. I’d be lost without my blogger, after all.” He tried to laugh, but John caught the sob.

“Promise.”

And John drifted back to sleep, arms still wound around Sherlock. He dreamed again, but this one was much better. This one was them, back in Baker Street, with Yarders and clients and Mycroft bringing them cases, and some dates with women but mostly quiet nights in front of crap telly and Chinese or Indian, and as the years went on new faces replaced the old but there was always adventure, always a purpose, until age slowed them down, but that would be okay. New faces, taught by them but bringing their own type of crazy to the game would take over, while he and Sherlock took off to the country. There’d be a little cottage, maybe by the sea, and he’d write and maybe start a garden like his grandad’s and Sherlock? For some reason, he thought there might be bees in the picture…

[anavoliselenu]

Hiched chapter 16

“Was this your plan all along?” I scold him without any real force. “To get me out on a date with you in the middle of the workday?”

His innocent shrug is spoiled by the fact that he hasn’t stopped smiling. “Maybe.”

I pause for a long moment, pretending to think hard. “Well . . . I guess I can forgive you.”

Justin holds up a finger in protest. “Hey, you’re going off script. You’re supposed to be mad at me, and then I have to soften you up—”

“In front of the whole restaurant?”

His grin darkens into absolute sin. “Oh, Snowflake, you’ve got a dirty mind. All I had planned was a kiss. But I like the way you think, and I seem to remember you not being shy about fooling around in restaurants.”

“This is why I like you better when you don’t talk,” I retort with a smile. Especially when it’s because your mouth is otherwise occupied.

“So, what’s the verdict on my brilliant plan?”

“Hmm . . .” I pretend to ponder again. “I’ll take that kiss now. More later.”

“At the office?” he asks immediately.

Actually, that doesn’t sound so—

Wait, no, what am I thinking? He’s dragging me down a rabbit hole. We already crossed that line, and as exhilarating as it was, I don’t want to get caught in some scandal.

I give him a firm shake of my head. “At home. Where we can be as loud and take as long as we want.”

He heaves a purposely melodramatic sigh. “But that’s such a long wait, and you’re the one who brought up sex in the first place.” Before I can tease him for being a perpetual horndog, he adds, “I guess I can be good for a little longer, though. You’re worth waiting for.”

My cheeks turn pink even before he leans across the table and his lips brush against mine. I’m not sure how to respond. Sexy flirting is one thing, but that comment was almost too sweet. Too real.

Our lunch chooses that moment to arrive. We dig into the delicious sushi and let ourselves talk about anything but business. All too soon, we’ll have to get back to the office, but for now, we savor each other’s company. A precious hour alone together, away from the hustle and stress.

• • •

At least once a month, Camryn and I try to set aside some girl time to pamper ourselves and catch up with each other. Today is that most sacred of days. We’ve booked a luxury pedicure at our favorite salon. We sit side by side in adjacent spa chairs, our long-suffering feet freed from high heels and soaking in warm, lavender-scented whirlpool baths. Ahh . . .

“So, how’ve you been lately?” Camryn asks me as the attendant massages exfoliating salt scrub into her soles. “Do anything cool without me?”

“Actually, yeah.” My tone slips into a soft fondness. “Justin and I spent all of last weekend together. On Saturday we had brunch, went shopping at the farmer’s market—he bought me the peonies I always get, without even needing to ask—and then we went to the MOMA’s special Impressionist exhibit. On Sunday, we saw P.B. and Jay—”

“That new indie rom-com?” she asks, interrupting.

“Yeah. And then we ate dinner out and went dancing.”

Feigning shock, Camryn presses her free hand over her heart. “Hang on. I need a minute to process this. Justin Tate, buying flowers and watching chick flicks? And Selena Cane—”

“But you have no problem imagining Justin at an art museum?”

“At least the paintings probably had naked ladies in them. But Justin Tate, acting so cute and mushy? And Selena Cane, taking an entire weekend off? Unplanned? For fun? I think I might have a heart attack.”

I snort despite myself. “Oh, shut up. I’m not that boring.”

“Yes, you are. Tell me something—you sneakily answered work e-mails while he was in the bathroom, didn’t you?”

“For your information, I had my phone turned off the whole time we were out.”

Camryn’s mouth drops open and she twists to face me fully, her shock now genuine. “Holy shit. Who are you and what have you done with my best friend?”

I shrug sheepishly. “Justin convinced me that the office would survive two measly days without me. And I actually . . . believed him.”

Camryn says nothing. She just smirks at me like she knows something I don’t. My stomach stirs with nervous flutters.

“What?” I finally ask. I know full well I’m taking her bait, but I don’t care enough to let her keep up her smug staring.

“Oh, nothing,” she says in a singsong voice, her tone soaked with false innocence. “I guess he must be pretty convincing, is all.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I huff. “It’s just because I’ve been more confident about work lately. I feel like Tate & Cane is really starting to get back on track.”

“Sure, but business isn’t the only thing that’s going well. You practically glow when you talk about Justin. And it seems like his free-and-easy ways have rubbed off on you.”

The double entendre isn’t lost on me but I ignore it, determined to be the more mature woman in the room. “It was just one weekend off. Big deal.”

“Yeah, you guys are definitely in your honeymoon phase,” she concludes, ignoring me right back. She heaves a sigh of satisfaction that definitely didn’t need to be so theatrical. “I had my doubts at first, but it looks like the manwhore can step up and be romantic when he sees something he really wants.”

“What are you talking about? He’s wanted women before.” Justin practically treated chasing pussy like another full-time job, in fact.

Camryn shakes her head. “Not the same way he wants you. He seems really motivated to win you over. Like, for real. Not just for the company’s sake.”

My heart gives a little kick. I instinctively start to argue with her. “I’m sure he just . . .”

But then I stop because I realize that his efforts are sincere. To be honest, I always knew they were. And his romantic gestures didn’t slack off after we were married or after we slept together. So this can’t just be about the contract or the company’s public image, or even just about getting into my pants. From the beginning, Justin made no secret of being attracted to me, but lately the atmosphere between us seems like more than just sexual tension.

The attendant interrupts my stunned musings. “Would you ladies like me to apply any nail polish today?”

Wow, I must have been really spacing out. I didn’t even think of picking out a color.

“Pale pink,” I blurt, feeling playful. Very different from my usual palette of dark matte red, which feels professional and mature for the male-dominated office. Pastel pink, in a way, symbolizes my newly awakened soft side. I smile to myself, wondering what Justin will think.

“Can I see what new shades you have?” Camryn asks.

“I’ll bring you our color book,” the attendant says as she bustles out of the room.

I sink back into my thoughts. Can Justin actually have serious feelings for me? And if he does, what will I do with this information? How do I feel about Justin? I’m having fun now, but is he really long-term husband material?

As much as I’ve denied it just now, Camryn is right—Justin is changing my routine. Hell, he’s changing me. The old Selena never would have let her hair down like I did last weekend. And we’re so much more in sync at the office. Not too long ago, we struggled to mesh our management styles, but now we effortlessly work together to solve problems with the easy grace of a rehearsed dance. We’ve grown across the gap to meet each other halfway.

Almost without my noticing, Justin has become one of my guiding stars. Someone I look forward to seeing each and every day. His smile alone has the power to speed up or slow down my heart. I’ve been so much calmer and happier lately . . . although that might just be a side effect of having multiple screaming orgasms every night.

As if Camryn can read my mind, she asks in an undertone, “So, have you two done the deed yet?”

Caught off guard, I look away, stammering, “Um . . .”

“Oh my God, you did,” she says with a squeal. “I’m so proud.”

Even though I’m staring intently at the wall, I can still hear the gleeful grin in her voice. My face feels hot.

“You’re being weird,” I protest.

“Are you kidding? You’ve finally broken your dry spell. Now I’m not the only one holding up the ‘sexy gossip’ end of our friendship. I want to hear everything. Hurry up and spill before the attendant comes back.” When I stay tongue-tied, she eggs me on. “Is his dick as big as the rumors say?”

“You’re unbelievable,” I say, groaning in defeat. “Yes, okay? He’s huge. Are you happy now?”

“Not until you tell me what he’s like in bed.”

I may never remove my eyeballs from this wall ever again. “Um . . . let’s just say he knows what he’s doing.”

She gives me a look. “No, let’s not just say that. Come on, Liv, I need more details!”

“Well, he’s . . . assertive. Passionate, but sweet. Very attentive. Sometimes he likes to tease. He takes things slow—” I think my face might burst into flame. “Until he suddenly doesn’t.”

Camryn gives a little whoop. “Get it, girl!”

Mortified, I frantically wave my hands back and forth. “Jesus, Camryn, keep it down. Half the salon can probably hear us.”

But I’m laughing with her even as I try to shush her. It seems that nothing can put a dent in my sunny mood. My heart is filled to the brim with hope—both about work and about my relationship with Justin.

Camryn opens her mouth, probably to keep grilling me. But I’m saved from further interrogation when the attendant returns with a small binder.

“Sorry about the wait, honey, someone else was using it,” she chirps.

As Camryn mulls over the color swatches, I pull my phone out of my purse to text Justin.

Selena: Almost done at the spa. Going to pick up more condoms on the way home. Want me to get anything else?

On playful impulse, I add:

Selena: Like maybe some whipped cream or chocolate sauce?

Then I hit Send, grinning foolishly to myself. I’m bubbling over with a joyful, sexy energy I’ve never felt before. I feel like everything in my life is finally coming together.

A few minutes later, my phone dings with a new message.

Justin: Hell yes. You know how much I love dessert, Snowflake.

I stifle a giggle. God, I’m acting like a silly schoolgirl and I don’t even care. If these past few weeks with Justin are anything to go by, I have a lot more fun and games to look forward to.

Chapter Thirteen

Justin

All day I’ve been delving into Tate & Cane’s financial situation, poring over dense, dry records. But I’m home now, and at the cheery sight of Selena fresh from the spa, smiling at me as she stands in front of my chair, all my stress dissolves.

Well, almost all of it. Fred’s e-mail about the possibility of us having to either take out a loan to continue paying employee salaries or consider a mass layoff is still on my mind. Not to mention my promise to Selena that we’d find a way to wow our clients with an intimate party. And Fred’s news about his cancer resisting treatment. And the heir clause, looming over everything . . .

Fuck me running. I tuck the stacks of dreary bank statements into my leather portfolio and close it.

“What do you think?” Selena grins at me, wiggling her painted toes.

“Pink. I like it.” Then again, I’d probably like her in just about anything. I already know I love her in nothing at all.

She smiles at me. “I was feeling flirty.”

“Did you have fun?”

Blushing a little, she looks down at the plush carpeting. “Yes, except . . .”

“What is it?”

I rise and pull her chin up so she’ll meet my eyes. I hope she hasn’t seen our current financial picture yet. She’s got enough stress to juggle right now. I’ve tried to shield her from most of it, asking Fred and Peter to come directly to me with their reports and concerns.

“Camryn grilled me on us,” Selena says softly.

Oh. I’m relieved to hear it’s nothing related to work. But it’s crazy to think there’s actually an us. I didn’t know if we’d ever get to this point.

I shrug. “That’s not so bad, right? Things are good between us. Hopefully that’s what you told her.”

She looks up, her cheeks still hot. “I did. But she wanted to know specifics. Like how you were in bed.”

A slow smile uncurls on my lips. “And what did you tell her?”

She chews on her lip, looking unsure.

“The truth, Selena,” I say firmly. It’s unlikely that she said anything to hurt my reputation—she’s polite like that, and besides, I know I’m good. I just want her to tell me how I make her feel. I want to hear those words straight from her soft, full lips.

“That you have a big . . . b-boy parts,” she stutters, “and you’re . . . assertive, yet tender, and—”

I can’t wait another second to have her mouth on mine. I take her mouth hungrily, and her lips part, accepting me. Our tongues duel as I pull her close, chest to chest.

I’m not sure how or when it happened, but she’s become mine. She’s the first thing I think about when I wake, and the last on my mind before I drift off to sleep. And before I can contemplate the ramifications, I know that I’m going to do what needs to be done to protect my future with her.

Tonight. I need to do it tonight.

I lift Selena in my arms and carry her toward the bedroom, our mouths still moving eagerly together. Unable to even wait until we reach the bed, I stop in the hall, pinning her back against the wall with her legs wound around my hips.

She’s wearing a simple cotton sundress, and that means when I slide my hand along the outside of her thigh and under her ass cheek, I can reach all the way around to the damp center of her panties. Slipping my fingers under the elastic, I find her clit and rub in circles, pulling a moan from her lips that I quickly swallow with another kiss.

It’s insane to think that the man who once refused to let a conquest sleep in his bed now shares a home with his wife, and practically attacks her at the door after only a couple of hours apart. Damn, I’ve turned into a total mushy prick. But there’s something so addictive about this woman. The way she carries herself, her wit and intelligence, her insatiable appetite for me. It just feels right.

I’ve never even been in a serious relationship. According to Sterling, getting married—tied to one woman for all of eternity—should have scared me shitless. Instead, it’s made me loyal, faithful, loving. It’s brought me to life in all the best ways.

I only hope that doing what I need to do tonight doesn’t destroy everything.

“Yes,” Selena cries. She grips my shoulders and rocks her hips into my hand, already getting closer.

I love how she keeps herself bare for me. Running my fingers over her silky center, I ease one in slowly. But my careful pace isn’t to last, because when Selena groans and murmurs my name, I add a second finger and thrust in harder. I finger-fuck her against the wall, my cock so hard it aches. But getting off is the last thing on my mind. I’m content to kiss Selena and watch her fall apart right here in my arms.

“Justin . . .” She moans, pushing her hands into my hair. “I want you.”

“You have me, baby.” I kiss the side of her neck, inhaling her honeysuckle perfume as my fingers continue stroking. That familiar scent, so uniquely Selena, always gets me worked up and calms me at the same time.

“Inside me. I want you inside me when I come.”

Okay, then. That changes things. My baby wants the dick, then the dick she shall have.

Still supporting her weight with one arm around her hips, I reach between us and undo my jeans, shoving them down enough to free my cock. Then I line myself up, rubbing the head of my cock through her wet folds just to feel her shudder in my arms.

“How’s that feel?” I tease her again, dragging the length of myself through her heat, grinding against her oversensitive clit.

“Need you,” she moans brokenly.

It’s almost hard to believe this is the same woman who a mere month ago turned up her nose at the thought of sex. Thought it was some useless, vile affair that had no place in her busy life. I’m not an egomaniac, but I’d like to believe the reason is me. I alone bring out this side of her, make her crazy with desire, unleash her inner sex goddess. Which is fine, because she does the same to me. I crave her like I’ve never craved anything before.

“Come on.” Selena groans. “Fuck me, Justin.” She grips my biceps and watches me with a desperate expression. The need in her eyes is almost painful.

I press forward, the first few inches of me disappearing inside her.

“Wait . . .”

I pause. “What is it?”

“The condoms. They’re by the bathroom sink. In the drugstore bag.”

Fuck that. “It would feel so fucking good to have you bare.” I groan, pushing my hips up so she can feel my hard length between her legs. “My hard cock sliding into your warm, tight heat . . . Please, baby . . .”

“Justin.” She groans, her head dropping back. “Not until I’m on birth control.”

My stomach drops. Right. Like that’ll help.

“Hurry,” she murmurs with a final kiss to my lips before shimmying down my body until her feet touch the floor.

I inhale a deep breath and head for the bathroom. Stopping in the doorway with my cock jutting straight out in front of me, I catch my reflection in the mirror and don’t like what I see. There’s a haunted look in my eyes that wasn’t there before.

“Justin?” Selena calls from the bedroom.

“Just give me a minute.” Crushed by rising panic and guilt, I close the door behind me.

Fred’s ominous warnings ring in my head. I thought I’d be able to convince Selena by now, but I haven’t even managed to broach the subject with her yet, and we’re running out of time. My father’s legacy, Fred Cane’s dying wish, all of Tate & Cane’s employees . . . everything is at stake. I know I have to act, but how?

I grab one of the condoms from the counter. My erection, despite the stress swirling through my brain, hasn’t gotten the memo. I stare down at the little foil packet in my hands.

What in the fuck am I doing? I feel utterly lost and confused. I’m falling in love with Selena, more with every passing day . . . all while hiding the world’s biggest secret from her. Despite all our hard work, the company finances are so dismal, we’re still barely hanging on. A baby would solve so many problems. Tying up that last loose end of the contract would cement our inheritance and ensure that the board doesn’t sell our company out from under us, leaving us destitute—along with six thousand other people.

But Selena will never agree to that. Hell, she’ll probably flip out and call off our whole arrangement if I tell her the truth. I’ve been racking my brain for weeks, trying to find the perfect sales pitch that will save everything I care about, and I just keep hitting the same brick wall.

I’ve always been so good with words, and now they’ve deserted me. Even if I knew what the fuck to say, the right moment never seems to come. And I can’t fight off the creeping terror that maybe . . .

Maybe it never will.

Maybe this conversation—this entire situation—really is impossible. Maybe there is no solution.

The thought makes me go numb. Moving on their own, my hands rifle through the vanity’s drawers and cabinets. I don’t know what I’m looking for until my fingers brush against it. My mother’s sewing kit. The little silver case she gave me the year before she died, when she taught me how to sew a button back onto my favorite shirt.

I pull out a needle and look down at its glinting sharp point. I test the end on my finger and feel its bite. A tiny red droplet wells up, grows rounder, heavier, until it rolls down my finger, leaving a vivid trail, but I still don’t move. I just stare stupidly at the stained needle tip. Silver shining through a film of red.

I feel like I’m in a dream—one of those nightmares where you can’t run fast enough, like trying to wade through quicksand. My heart is slamming against my rib cage. What the fuck am I doing? Am I really . . . can I ever even think . . . ?

A gasp of shock pulls my focus to the door.

Selena stands naked on the threshold, her mouth hanging open. Her wide-eyed disbelief quickly plummets into horror. She stumbles back, bumping into the wall behind her, her hand pressed to her mouth like she’s about to be sick.

I look down at my hands—one holding a condom, and the other, a needle. With a spasm of disgust, I throw the condom and needle into the sink.

“Selena . . . w-wait, it’s not, I wasn’t . . . !” My voice is hollow, unconvincing even to me.

A sob of pain tumbles from her open mouth. When I look back up, my wife is running away, her lovely face twisted with betrayal.

Not knowing what else to do, I follow her, hoping it’s not already too late . . . and knowing that it is.

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