#miss girl is drooling and breathing hard against the window of your office

[sinful-lanterns]

If Cabernet was a doppelgänger do you think she will actually try to eat us

Yes. But then it will slowly delve into a more sexual appetite the more she encounters you in the lobby 😌

At first she wanted to eat your flesh, but then she wanted to eat your pussy instead. Character development I suppose 💕

[silverdelirium]

Can I request a very filthy smutty blaise with ass kink and size kink? 🥺

MESSY OFFICE | B.Z

SUMMARY ➠ coworker!blaise teaches you a lesson and fulfills his dreams of fucking you silly.

WARNINGS ➠ oral (male receiving), tad bit of shoe fucking, dumbification, degradation, praising, rough sex, ass kink, size kink, lots of dirty talk, rushed ending. this if filthy lololol

———

blaise took a deep breath before slamming his fist down on the wooden desk of his office. the papers that were placed on top of it went flying around at the sudden movement.

his hands were shaking with irritation. if that fucking landlord could just shut the fuck up about his rent for one second-

the male’s thoughts were cut off by small, rapid knocks against the door. his brows knitted in confusion at the unanticipated invasion.

“come in!”

the door creaked as you entered the room, peeking your head through the doorway at first before going in, shutting the door behind you.

your presence emitted a groan from him. he knew that the moment you both spent time together it would somehow end in a screaming match, and blaise was not in the mood to be dealing with anything right now.

you gave him a sharp glare in response before opening your mouth to speak. yet you were cut off by your own silence as you studied the state of his office.

everything seemed so rustled and chaotic— there were papers thrown in the floor, some were even crumbled and a few candy wrappers were tossed around. “what is this mess?” you spoke, tone lacing with disgust as you picked up an old folder from the worktable; his hand was quick to swat you away, scowling you before leaning back on the desk.

“what do you want?” he squinted at you, roaming his eyes down your body suspiciously— mentally slapping himself for staring at your breasts longer than planned.

“what the fuck is up your arse today?” you scoffed, crossing your arms and walking closer to him until he had to crane his neck down to look at you.

blaise’s chest heaved up and down as he quickly undid the top button of his shirt, turning away from you and taking long strides around the room. he closed his eyes and really hated himself for wanting nothing more than to shut that smart mouth of yours with his hardening cock. it was too much for him— and if there was one-way blaise loved to take his stress out on, was sex. and god— that stupid little skirt of yours that was begging to be lifted and reveal that sweet cunt that plagued his mind at the worst moments was the last push he needed to man up and fuck you as he had always wanted to.

you observed him in silence, watching how he mumbled something to himself about ‘i can’t think of her like this.’

quietness ran across the walls for a few moments before blaise was back in front of you, muttering a “fuck it” and connecting his lips to yours.

the fleeting kiss had you bewildered for a few seconds, eyes wide and mouth unmoving as the tall man held the back of your head in his palm. you didn’t kiss him back at first, but you didn’t protest either. and you’d be dammed if you didn’t take advantage of the opportunity to get fucked brain dead by blaise zabini.

but who could blame you when you kissed him back with the same— maybe even more— force; it was messy and heated all at once, the frustration that you sensed from earlier was being poured in that kiss. teeth were clashing together as his tongue pressed down on yours, drawing out a breathy moan from you.

blaise cupped your rear with both hands, lifting you in an unforeseen manner, causing you to squeal lightly until you felt your bum being pressed against the cool surface of his messy desk.

he was the first to break apart from the kiss, breathing steadily as he stared down at you— even from your perched up position he was still a few inches taller.

“i’m not gonna hold back” he warned, searching your eyes for any sign of regret or hesitation that you might feel. but he was far from finding any, you wanted blaise to fuck you until he was poking out of your tummy and you wanted it now.

“i don’t care” you breathed out, reconnecting your mouth to his and almost missing out on that keen groan that came out of his mouth.

his large digits scurried under your skirt, unzipping it in a quick motion and pulling it down your legs until it pooled on the floor.

he teasingly ran his index finger up and down the soaked cotton that covered your pulsating pussy. “blaise— please” you shamelessly plead, throwing all your morals out the window and not caring about anything else but being rutted over and over again.

“look at you. begging like a well paid whore when you were being a smart ass with me not even ten minutes ago.” he chuckled, taking pride in the way you whimpered in response, bucking your hips up onto his fingers. “what is it, baby? you want me to fuck you until that dumb baby brain can only think about my cock, yeah?”

his words struck a bit of sense into you and you huffed in response— “are you actually gonna give me what i want and fuck me properly or are you all talk?”

you messed up and you messed up big; you could tell by the way hir pupils dilated and the slow touches against your clothed pussy stopped. his tongue darted out to poke on his left cheek as he laughed lightly, stepping back and harshly bringing you down the desk.

“i’m gonna fuck your throat until you learn how to keep useless stuff to yourself, princess” he warned, signalling down to the floor as he unbuckled his belt.

you tentatively got down on your knees, lightly scraping them against the wooden floor as you rubbed your thighs together, pawing at your lap as blaise’s erection appeared in your view of line.

was that supposed to fit in you?

blaise seemed to notice your unsureness— “you alright there, pretty girl?” his tone was softer, less stern yet with the same accent of authority he always carried.

“i— it’s… big.” you let out, feeling the tip of your ears grow hot as he chuckled before picking up a more alluring timbre “oh i’m gonna make it fit” he winked.

you swallowed thickly, already picturing the delicious stretch this man was gonna provide you. he stroked his large cock sensually before making a beeline with it to your lips, which were already parted in expectancy; he went to tease you for it but was cut off by his low moan that got provoked as the warmth of your mouth enveloped his pulsating tip.

his digits tangled themselves in your hair, good girl’s and just like that’s slipped from his mouth every time your tongue swirled around his head. and the slickness that was pouring out of you was suddenly too much to ignore— hence why you reached down to attempt and soothe the burning sensation. blaise was still enthralled with the way your worked those lips that he had dreamed of having against his around his cock— his hands tightened around your scalp as he thrusted rapidly against your mouth, desperately probing for an orgasm.

a muffled whine came from you as he fucked your throat repeatedly, causing him to look down at your teary eyes, eventually settling his irises on your hand rubbing your greedy cunt.

blaise tutted with a hint of disappointment, making your movements halt as you batted your eyelashes up at him innocently as if your mouth wasn’t stuffed with his cock that was ready to shoot its cum down your fucked out throat.

you went to furrow your brows when he kicked your hand away gently, replacing your fingers with the point of his leather shoe, your wetness already leaking down on his footwear as you whined around his cock, making his hips buck involuntarily at the vibrations— “i was gonna reward you for sucking me so well, but since you’re such a desperate slut you’re gonna have to fuck yourself on my shoe while i throat fuck you, yeah?” he asked demanded.

a weak nod was all he got in response before he was back to gripping your hair in his fist, spit drooling down your chin at the abrupt pace he set without even a warning— not that you minded.

your hips rolled slowly into his shoe, swollen clit fizzing at the stimulation; his shoe hit every right nerve ending, the sounds you made around his cock were filthy and lewd, only making his balls grow tighter as he stilled his hips, rope after rope of cum flooding your mouth.

you moaned lowly against his cock at the feeling of his warm cum spraying down your throat.

he gave tattered breaths and moans as he pulled out of your mouth, barely even taking notice of the whining mess you became, his foot now long gone from your oozing cunt.

“get the fuck up” he breathed out, staring down at your already fucked out-state— saliva all over your chin, along with a few tears decorating your frowning face as you stood up. his large hands came to cup your face, delivering a small kiss on the corner of your mouth before placing his mouth next to your ear and whispering “i’ve been trying to translate your frowns and find out what your fucking problem with me was before bending you over my desk and fucking you stupid.”

you could’ve easily moaned at his words alone if it weren’t for his lips linking with yours in a crazed kiss as he guided you towards his messy desk— which was about to be a whole lot messier.

his hands reassuringly squeezed your waist as he turned you around, his once again hard cock rubbed against your ass as he planted kisses against your neck, sucking on certain spots that had your eyes rolling onto the back of your head— his fingers making quick work of getting your shirt off, throwing it somewhere around the room as he separated himself from your now marked neck, leaving you in your undergarments that didn’t leave much to the imagination.

“i’ve been waiting to fuck you senseless for so long, baby. you don’t know how many times i spent with my hand around my cock dreaming about your tight pussy around it.” he groaned out, pushing you forward until your breasts squished against the desk, shuddering at the cold of it.

his palms massaged your left ass cheek before a harsh slap was delivered to it— and his mouth wasn’t there to cover the pornographic moan that came out of you this time, pushing your bum against his hardened dick in anticipation.

blaise grabbed a hold of his cock and steadied himself with a hand on your bum, squeezing. before he moved your panties to the side and teased your pulsating entrance with his tip, groaning slightly at the way your pussy almost swallowed him in as he pushed the tiniest bit in, coaxing a loud cry from you.

“so so tight, princess” he praised, pushing himself all the way in with a single thrust, arousal already gushing down your thighs.

the male wasted no time and in a few moments he had you with your mouth gaped open, eyes going crisscross with every un pitying snap against your hips of his.

“can you feel me all the way up in your pretty guts, baby girl? you like having this slutty cunt being taught a lesson, huh?” he growled out, eyes trained on each bounce of your ass as he sped up— the clapping sounds were enough to give away what was happening to any passerbyers outside his office; not that any of you minded at this point.

“oh! fuck blaise— right there! right there!” you babbled out, shutting your eyes tight as he brought you up with his bicep against your throat, making you loll your head back on his shoulder as his dick continuously hit that spot inside you.

blaise’s other hand snaked around your midriff, pressing down on the evident outline of his cock going in and out of your tummy. “look at me destroying your pretty little insides, sweetheart, bet you won’t be able to sit on this pretty little pussy for the next week” he cooed at you before slamming you forwards until your cheek pressed against his rattling desk.

“don’t stop! don’t stop please!” you sobbed out, squeaking lightly when his palms crashed down roughly on your ass, groans and moans echoing around the room like a chant— the pit in your stomach growing tighter and tighter by the second.

“i’m cumming blaise, i’m fucking cumming” you gasped out, lifting your head back up and pointing your nose to the ceiling as you came all-around blaise’s cock with a loud ecstatic moan.

a whimper passed by your lips as blaise continued to fuck you through your high; and it took him one look to look at the mess you left running down yours and his thighs for him to be pumping you full of his cum, steady thrusts that had him hissing as you clenched around him for a final time.

he pulled out of you to watch his cum blow out of your overstimulated pussy, the aftershocks of the intense orgasm still causing your muscles to spasm every once in a while.

“you made my office a whole lot messier” he grunted out, pointing down to the puddle that fell in between your legs, causing you to flush instantly as he chuckled and pressed light kisses to your temple.

———

🏷: @methblinds @marrymetheonott @adrianscumslut @wh0re4blaise @youreso-golden @saggyb1lls @selenesheart @dracomalfoys-wh0re @dlmmdl @lolooo22 @darlingmalfoy @littlemissnoname13 @i-love-scott-mccall @underappreciated-spoon-321 @daddybutmakeitagirl @fredshufflepuff @dracosafety @riddleswh0rekrux @lostaurorax @alexavolturisblog @s1ater @marauderswh0re1 @andineverwould @starless-starkov @black-rose-29 @tattooedkermit @purpleskymalfoy @emma67 @mypainistemporary @mauvea @teenwolfbitches28 @lissa-duh @paniicing @rav3nclawwhore @fizzleberries @malfoy-girl @alohastitch0626 @caosfanblr @memorycharm @whoreforgeorgeandfred @elizabethrosedarling

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[mrs-gucci]

A Different Kind of Urgent {Charlie Barber x Reader}

author’s notes: hellooooo! my penpal friend, a fellow adam driver rat, sent me a print of a charlie picture (that I’d seen a gajillion times before, mind you) and for some reason, I thirsted hard. so, naturally, I wrote a fic inspired by the picture. the reader in this story is a college professor, but it doesn’t really contribute to any ‘essential’ parts of the story (aka the smutty parts). it’s just her job lol

warnings: smut. some fluff. masturbation. semi-public smut. the sending of nudes (well, lingerie pics, to be specific). charlie’s dad outfits™️. cigarette smoking during sex. uhh tennis shoe kink??

(possible) tw’s: semi-public sex. semi-public masturbation. tobacco use (as is canon for Charlie’s character). implied age gap (everyone’s over 21, no more than 10 years).

You’re in the middle of class when Charlie texts you. Your phone buzzes and buzzes on your desk so much so that you have to stop your lecture for a few seconds, worried that something urgent has happened.

Well, something did happen, and it was pretty urgent, but not exactly in the way you’d expected.

-Charlie: I know you’re teaching class right now kid.- -Charlie: But I need you.- -Charlie: Right now.-

A shiver runs down your spine as you read his words on the screen.

-Y/N: I’ve got like 45 more minutes of lecture, baby, I can’t.-

He growls under his breath, cock straining in his tan khakis.

-Charlie: Fuck.- -Charlie: Can you send me a picture? Just need to see your pretty body, kid.-

-Y/N: Say please, Charlie.-

Charlie groans in sexual frustration, hips bucking up in his desk chair.

-Charlie: Jesus fucking christ, fucking brat. PLEASE! PLEASE send me a picture!-

You smirk, picking out one of the lingerie photos you’d taken when you were home alone one night. You’ve been waiting for the right time to whip them out and...well, this seems like the right time.

-Y/N: Attachment 1 image- -Y/N: Knock yourself out. Take a picture when you’re done, and I’ll be over as soon as class is finished.-

His shaky hands scramble to type in his phone passcode and click on your message, a strangled moan leaving his lips at the picture you chose. He’d never seen this one before, never seen this set of lingerie before.  He unbuckles his belt and almost tears the button clean off his khakis as he pulls his cock out, tip already red and drooling with precum. 

Before he starts anything, he quickly runs over to his office door, locking it to keep anyone from walking in. 

His navy cardigan suddenly feels almost suffocating and he sheds it without hesitation, unbuttoning his dress shirt and parting it, revealing his undershirt. 

Wait...you want a picture. Fuck.

An idea comes to him and he whimpers, equal parts aroused and nervous about giving it a try. God he hasn’t touched himself since the divorce proceedings, just needing to blow off some fucking steam, but you’ve reignited his sexual passion, overwhelmingly so, and seemingly even more than before. Maybe even more than ever, if he’s honest with himself.

He feels like a teenager again, both completely smitten with you while at the same time incredibly horny for you.

Charlie stands up on shaky legs and shoves all the paperwork off his desk, clearing a roomy spot right in the center. He bites his lip as he props his phone up on his desktop computer with the picture of you pulled up. Jerking off with just his hand wouldn’t be enough this time around, a small part of him just knew it. He needs to fuck you, fuck something.

He positions his hands around the edge of his desk, leaving his thumbs right at the top, putting them in a wonky sort of ‘o’ shape. He adjusts so that the sharp edge is pressing against his palm before experimentally thrusting his length forward into the hole he’s created with his thumbs, immediately groaning in pleasure. 

“O-Oh, kid.”

He whispers, picking up a slow thrusting rhythm, eyes squeezed shut as he imagines your pussy.

“Such a good little pussy, my good f-fucking girl.” A line of sweat has already begun forming on his forehead as he moves a bit quicker, growling wildly with each thrust. He’s embarrassingly close already. “God, j-jesus fucking christ, gonna make me cum so f-fast, kid. I’m already s-so close, damnit.”

His hips grow desperate, bucking erratically into his grip. The drag of his cock against the faux wood surface feels absolutely incredible, and he barely even hears the desk begin to groan and shift against the floor of his office, too consumed with his impending orgasm.

“Yeah, you ready? Y-You fuckin’ ready for my big fat--fuck!--load in this pretty little--shit!--k-kitty?”

Just hearing him say the word aloud, his nickname for your cunt, has him cumming within moments. His vision blacks out for a second as his hips rut forward, a seemingly continuous stream of warm white cum painting his desktop. 

“Ahhhhh, fuuuuuuuck.”

He has to bury his mouth into his shirt arm to hide the cries that come from him, eyebrows knitted at the center of his forehead. His breathing is heavy as he begins coming down from his high, eyes flitting open and looking down at the mess he’d made. 

His load had gone across the entire width of his desk, and his eyes widened for a moment as his brain somehow comprehended to grab his phone and take a picture of the spread. 

-Charlie: Attachment 1 image- -Charlie: Come straight to my office when you get to the theater.-

You take a quick peek at the message from Charlie as your students pull out their workbooks, jaw dropping when you open the picture full-screen. Holy shit, he really did need it.

-Y/N: You sure you still have enough to fill me up with when I get there?-

-Charlie: I always have enough for you, kid. Gonna have it leaking out of you when you leave.-

You chew your lip, thinking of a quick yet clever response.

-Y/N: Is that a promise?-

He groans under his breath, chuckling lightly with a small smile.

-Charlie: Absolutely. Can’t wait to see you, kid.-

-Y/N: I’m excited too. I’ll be there in 20.-

The twenty minutes it takes for you to finish class and walk over to Exit Ghost feels like some of the longest in Charlie’s life, knee bouncing impatiently and eyes glued to the door. He twirls the Marlboro package in his hand, the clock behind his desk tick-tick-ticking the seconds away. 

Finally, a soft knock comes and, just in case it isn’t you, he stuffs the carton into his pocket. “Come in.”

Your head pokes through the door and you smile at him as you walk in, shutting and locking the door behind you. You immediately notice his outfit, specifically his shoes, which are propped up on his desk. 

He knows that you like how he dresses, especially when he dresses very dad-like. And those sneakers he has, the white ones with the blue lines on them...god, they drive you absolutely crazy and you have no idea why.

Your bags are quickly shoved off your shoulder by the impatient director, pulling you into his body as his lips attack yours fiercely. He notices the way you’re eyeing his outfit, and it’s then that he realizes what shoes he has on, the pair that you like so much. Oh, he could use that.

His grip on the meat of your hips tightens increasingly as the kiss heats up, lips eventually moving down to your neck. 

“Well, hello to you too.”

You say, laughing softly.

“Mmmm,” He hums onto your skin, lips littering kisses and small nibbles everywhere they can reach. “I missed you, kiddo, feels like forever since we’ve had time for something like this.”

Charlie’s large body presses you up against the door, hands eager to rid you of your pants. He quickly yanks them down to your ankles, fingers finding your clothed folds.

“I’ve got a staff meeting at two, baby. We h-have to be kind of quick...sorry.” You breathe, hand wrapping in his hair, tugging at the silky raven locks.

A small and slightly disappointed sigh leaves his lips, but nothing more is said on the matter. His movements do become a bit more rushed, though, digits dipping beneath the fabric to shove up into your entrance. 

Your legs spread instinctively, knees shaking as he finger-fucks you, thick digits scissoring inside you to prepare for his girth. Meanwhile, you try to focus on getting his belt and pants undone, but it’s awfully hard when his fingers feel so damn good.

He pulls away suddenly, sucking the juices off his fingers as his hungry eyes roam your figure. The carton of cigarettes presses against his thigh and he smirks, pulling his digits out with a lewd pop.

Charlie suddenly pulls you off the door, putting himself in your spot instead. He smirks, fingers running under your chin, keeping your head tilted up at him.

“Will you go open the window for me please, beautiful?”

You nod, rushing over to push it open, then come back over to stand in front of him.

“Good girl. Thank you.”

His pointer finger twirls and points to the floor while the other hand grabs the pack and lighter from his pants pocket.

“Now, turn around and bend over right here, hold your ankles or feet, or whatever.”

As you position yourself accordingly, he leans back against the door, legs spread and sneaker-clad feet planted on either side of you, right within your line of vision. He’s almost fully hard again already as he moves to free his cock from its khaki confines, undoing his pants just enough to have it out. 

Again, his cardigan feels suffocatingly hot, so he quickly pulls it off and tosses it away. He rolls the sleeves up on his button-up, a sight that makes your insides clench.

He jams a cigarette between his teeth, jaw clenching when he looks up and realizes that you’re bent over for him, in just the way he asked. Your glistening pussy’s on full display as you wiggle your ass a bit, his cock bobbing and twitching with excitement. 

“Oh kid, you’re dripping.” Charlie whispers, almost to himself, hand kneading one of the globes of your ass.

You chuckle softly. “Hey, baby? As much as I love hearing and feeling you, my legs are getting kinda tired.”

Laughing, Charlie says a quick ‘sorry’ before holding and pulling your hips back, lining himself up with your soaked entrance. He pulls you back some more, impaling you on his cock, head falling back against the door as he does so. 

His hands shakily ignited the small flame on his lighter, bringing it up until the tip of the cigarette turned orange before flipping the cap back on and shoving it back in his pocket. He takes a long drag, groaning on the exhale. 

He keeps one hand on your hip while the other spreads out on your lower back, guiding you back and forth over his shaft slowly, gently.

“Thaaat’s it, just like this, kid.”

Your eyes roll into the back of your head, the impossibly deep angle created with this new position has it feeling like he’s reaching into your guts. Plus, with the natural up-curve of his cock, he’s brushing all the right spots inside you.

“C-Charlie…”

The familiar and comforting scent of Charlie’s cigarettes fills your nostrils, a haze of smoke surrounds your joined bodies. He continues to move you up and down on his length, buttocks clenching as his hips naturally rock forward, burying himself to the hilt each time you sink down.

“God...jesus christ...love this little pussy of yours, kid.” He breathes through his gritted teeth. “Taking me so nicely, always wrapped around me so goddamn tight.”

You quickly begin moving yourself up and down his stiff rod, bouncing as fast as you can manage. The sweet burn in your thighs only grows more prominent with each passing second, but you don’t care, too consumed in pleasure.

“Mmmmmyyyeah, baby, all for you.”

His hand comes down on your ass, giving it a firm smack before taking another quick drag, exhaling through his nose.

“That’s f-fucking right, all mine. You love being a little slut for this cock, huh? I know you do, you love when I bring you in my office and fuck your pretty cunt in the middle of the goddamn work day, can’t even wait until I get home, this f-filthy slut cunt needs to be split open and stuffed nice and full. Can’t go one fucking day without my cum fucked in you, always needs to be filled up and leaking, hm?”

Charlie was never able to do stuff like this or talk to Nicole like this. She was pretty vanilla when it came to sex, just like to be fucked quietly in bed. He called her a ‘slut’ once and she almost cried, lecturing him for half an hour afterwards on how disrespectful it was.

But now, he gets to explore everything he hasn’t gotten the chance to with you. You love it all, love the way he talks filth in your ear, calls you naughty names. You love getting fucked in all sorts of places, which at first made him a little nervous, cheeks and the tips of his ears bright red when you asked him to fuck you in your classroom or finger you under your dress on the subway. But, after almost a year and a half together, you can safely say that he’s a full-on exhibitionist deviant.

Your walls clamp down around him, eyes still squeezed shut as you feel his hips begin to thrust forward. Soon, he holds you almost completely still, moving his hips as fast as he can. His cigarette is almost ashes at this point, and he kicks himself for not thinking of a good disposal plan beforehand.

“Oh baby, oh baby...f-fuck!” You whine, hips squirming and gyrating as your impending orgasm grows closer. “Y-Yeah, I love it, love everything you do to me. Wanna take every s-single fucking drop of your cum, Charlie, want it inside me, want it dripping down my thighs.”

He almost loses his mind over your comments, drilling into you at an impossibly hard and fast rate, the lewd slapping squelching sound of your hips colliding overwhelmingly prominent in the space around you. 

“You’ll go back to work with so much cum shoved into you, make you sit through your stupid fucking meeting with my cum dripping out of you. B-Better hope no one notices, huh? Better hope your boss doesn’t find out what a good little cockslut you are, how much you love having a pussy-full of your boyfriends f-fucking cum.”

A few muted cries leave your lips as he pounds you harder, his own words spurring him on. He can feel your walls pulsing around him, a sure-fire sign that you’re about to cum. 

“C-Charlie! Charlie, I...I’m close.”

“K-Know you are, kid, I know you are. You’re doing so f-fucking well for me, Y/N, squeezing my big cock like a fuckin champ.” Charlie growls, quickly tossing his spent cigarette in a coffee mug on a nearby table. “And now you’re gonna rub your little clit and cum for me like I know you want to. C’mon, kid, wanna feel you come undone around me.”

You quickly begin rubbing your clit and, despite the odd angle, it brings you right up to the edge. You just need something, just a little something, to push you over the edge. Your eyes flutter open to look up at him, but then, you’re met with the sight of his sneakers.

“Goddamnit!” You’re cumming almost instantly, flooding his shaft with your release. “Yes! Oh god, yeah, c-cumming for you baby!”

His hips keep pumping, taking you right through your climax before abruptly coming to a halt when they’re buried as deep inside you as they can possibly be. His eyes go wide before squeezing shut, a guttural groan ripping through his chest as he pumps and shoves his thick creamy load into you.

“T-Take it, f-filthy whore!” He groans, rutting his hips the whole way through, making sure every drop is put inside you.

Once he’s finished, having ridden out his high to its fullest, he tucks himself back into his pants before helping you stand back up. He holds you close, looking down at you with a bright, genuine smile. 

“You’re amazing, incredible...just so perfect.” He kisses all over your face before landing on your lips.

Your cheeks heat up at his compliments, hands weaving through his hair as the kiss deepens. 

Suddenly, someone knocks on your office door, jiggling the doorknob.

“Charlie?”

His eyes fly open and he pulls away. Shit.

“Yeah, I’m h-here, just give me a minute!”

You quickly pull your pants up and jump under his desk to hide just as he opens the door, running a hand through his hair. 

He talks to the person on the other side of the door in a rushed voice, answering their multitude of questions before quickly shutting the door, sighing as you crawl out from under the desk. 

“At least we both got to cum, unlike last time.” You walk up and put your hands on his pecs, rubbing them over the fabric. “I gotta get going though, baby. I wanna grab lunch from the deli before my staff meeting.”

Charlie nods, dipping his head down to kiss you one last time, nuzzling his large nose against yours. 

“Come over tonight, though? Nicole’s in town and she’s got Henry, so we’ll have the house to ourselves. I feel like we haven’t spent any quality time together lately.”

Nodding, you smile. “I would love to come over. I’ll text you when I get home.”

“Great.” He smiles, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I’ll see you later, kid. Have a good meeting.”

You laugh as you grab your bag and head out, turning back to wave and flash him a soft smile.

“See you tonight.”

[sirenascales]

-> double black [part four] 18+

-> Chuuya x 1stPOV!F!Reader x Dazai

-> Who knew getting fired from work could lead to this?

-> Content: SMUT, slight angst, violence, murder, swearing

The investigation continues, even if things aren't moving as smoothly as one would like. [Chuuya x 1stPOV!F!Reader x Dazai]

2,073 words

note: SMUT Like... this was an excuse to write smut with both of them okay, and totally i forgot to tag those who are on my taglist for the previous part and im so sorry lol but please enjoy!

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Final || masterlist

Days have gone by and the investigation is still underway, but things weren't looking too great. There was still no confirmed DNA evidence, no weapon, not even a witness. Nothing to aid in the apprehension of Taichi's murderer.

"If only Ranpo were here," Atsushi sighed deeply, the snack loving detective out on another case that had popped up. "He would have solved this in a heartbeat."

I laughed softly, wringing my hands nervously. "It's too bad he isn't here," I said, trying to focus on the paperwork in front of me. "Surely it would make things easier for us..."

"But that'll just be boring!" Dazai exclaimed from his desk, leaning against Atsushi who just pushed him off.

"This isn't for your entertainment, Dazai! The killer could have fled the country by now," Kunikida argued, crossing his arms over his chest. "For now, we just have to stay focused and not waste time.

I nodded, slumping back in my chair and fiddling with my pen. "What the hell are we missing..."

We didn't dwell on it for much longer, since the shift ended. I sighed in relief, looking forward to just going home, eating dinner, and going to bed. The case was draining, the dead ends we kept running into just sending us back to square one. Now all I wanted was to rest for the night.

But of course, with a certain suicidal maniac, that was not happening.

"Isn't this cheating..." I gasped out softly, Dazai pressing his naked body against me from behind, his hard dick against my ass and his mouth on my neck.

"Maybe..." Dazai hummed, reaching around to grab my breasts, the soap in his hands making my skin slippery. "But there's no such thing as cheating in a fight."

I gasped sharply when Dazai pinched my nipples, eyes fluttering closed. "This isn't even a fight... you're the weirdo that wanted to turn this investigation into a game."

Leave it to Dazai to basically latch himself onto me as I made my way home. We ordered delivery, eating together on my couch and deciding to watch a movie. Before I knew it, we were making out on my couch, soon enough making our way to the shower.

The water was hot, steaming up the bathroom. Our wet hair stuck to our skin, Dazai holding onto my hips tightly as he fucked me from behind. He bit his lip in concentration, relishing in the sound of my cries echoing in the small room.

"Fuck... Osamu, you feel so good," I cried out, hands slipping on the tiled walls, trying to grab for something. Dazai just pressed his chest against my back, keeping up his rough pace as he chuckled in my ear.

"Do you like that?" "Yes!" "Of course you do, dirty little girl." Dazai reached around and grabbed my face, stuffing two fingers into my mouth. That had my eyes rolling back as I weakly sucked on his fingers, his other hand working on my clit. That finally sent me over the edge as I screamed around his fingers, body shaking as I reached my peak.

Dazai fucked me through my orgasm, ignoring my whines from the overstimulation until he quickly pulled his cock out, pumping himself a few more times before he hit his own orgasm, cumming right on my ass.

"Fuck, bella. You're so beautiful," he gasped, kissing me deeply while pulling us under the hot water.

We barely made it out of the bathroom before going at it again, Dazai fucking me against the wall in the hallway, one of my legs hooked around him while he wrapped a hand around my neck. His breath was hot against my neck, coming out in breathless pants while he continued to rail me.

"Incredible," he whispered in my ear, his hand still around my neck, keeping me in place. "And so pliable... you'll always be putty in my hands."

"Mmm!" I moaned almost pathetically. "Yes..."

"You're my pretty little subordinate?"

"Yes!"

Soon, we finally made it to my bed, where Dazai proceeded to make me ride him like my life depended on it. I was left shaking, the two of us very satisfied.

"So much for a quiet evening," I huffed a while later, the two of us finally getting clean before burying ourselves under my covers. "You are one horny bastard, Dazai."

"Says the equally horny bitch," Dazai retorted and I laughed, turning and pressing my face against the side of his neck.

It went silent, and thankfully it was a comfortable silence where we just lied there, holding onto each other. I sigh contently, fingers lazily trailing up and down his chest while I can feel the bandages on his arms against my skin.

"Dazai?"

"Hm."

"You know..." I started carefully, keeping my face pressed against him. "If you ever need to like... talk... when you're feeling... bad... I'm here for you." I bit my lip, hoping I wasn't overstepping. "I'm here. Even if it's just to listen..."

Dazai didn't say anything, and I was too freaked out to look at him. Though, after a moment, he pressed a kiss to the top of my head, giving me a nice squeeze.

"You are very kind, bella."

I frowned, cuddling up more against him. I blinked when he shifted, looking at him questionably as he set me down on the bed before he started to get up. "Where are you going?"

"To the bathroom," he grinned back at me. "I won't be long, bella. Don't miss me too much!"

I just scoffed and rolled my eyes, watching Dazai leave the bedroom before staring up at the ceiling. I waited, frown on my face growing deeper as the minutes went by, teeth chewing on my bottom lip nervously.

"Sorry, I went to get some water," Dazai then returned, quickly climbing into bed beside me. Immediately his arms are wrapped around me, holding me tight. "Let's go to sleep."

I smiled up at him, softly pressing a kiss to his lips before I settled against him, closing my eyes. "Goodnight."

Dazai watched me for a second, his lips curling up in an amused, knowing smile. "Goodnight, bella..."

"Ah... this is nerve-wracking..." Keiko mumbled softly, clinging onto my hand as we stepped up to the very familiar tall building. I gulped, nervous since the building was overrun with members of the Port Mafia.

It was the day after that night I spent with Dazai, and instead of being at work, I had received a call from an unknown number. That had turned out to be Chuuya, who ordered me to find Keiko and bring both of our asses to meet him in his office.

Chuuya wasn't just a member of the Port Mafia, but he was an executive, and he held great power. It was almost scary, especially as Keiko and I rode up the escalator to the right floor.

"I wonder what he wants..." Keiko says nervously, biting her lip as we approached the office. We finally made it and I knocked on it five times.

"Come in."

I gulped and we walked inside. Chuuya sat in his desk, and if I wasn't so nervous, I would have been drooling at how fucking fine he looked, sitting with his feet propped on the desk. He gestured to the chairs before his desk lazily. "Sit."

He mostly wanted to talk to Keiko, seeing as she was Taichi's boyfriend and to make sure she didn't tell too much info to the police or "those bastards at the ADA", as he said while shooting me a dirty look. I returned it.

"Of course not," Keiko said softly. "And I wanted to thank you for paying for his funeral. That was nice of you."

Chuuya waved her off. "It wasn't a problem. He was one of my best men." Keiko clenched her fists tightly in her lap as he said that.

"Did you find out anything? We're not having too much luck either," I spoke up, thoughtful look on my face. "Like how can you not find DNA when he was selling the drugs there? There had to have been other people." I looked over at Keiko, missing how Chuuya's eyes went wide before he narrowed them at me.

"It's pissing me off how hard this is," he said rather stiffly, still watching me. "At the end of the day, this might just end up closing as a cold case... but like hell will I forget this." Chuuya clenched his fists, a look of anger and determination on his face. "But we are done here. Well, I'm done with you, Keiko. I still need to speak with her." He was looking right at me.

Keiko gave me a knowing look and a wink and I just playfully shoved her towards the door. "I'll see you later, okay?" I said and she nodded before walking out. Turning back to Chuuya, I watched him get up from his desk. "So what else did you wanna talk about?" I asked, tilting my head as Chuuya walked around the desk and towards me, not answering.

"Um? Hel-mmph!"

Chuuya gripped the back of my neck, pulling me in for a deep, breathtaking kiss. I cupped his face, kissing him back just as deeply. He turned us around so as he walked me backwards with his lips still on mine, I bumped right against his desk, which he sat me on.

"You came in here in this sexy ass dress and expect me not to fuck you?" Chuuya growled, kissing down my neck as his hands moved up my dress. He smirked as he massaged my thighs, quickly finding my knife and removing it. "This is a beautiful knife," he hummed, inspecting it. I smiled softly, weakly reaching to grab it but Chuuya just flicked it, the blade neatly embedding itself right on his desk. "You take great care of it."

"Well, that was my first knife..." I said softly, desperately wanting my knife back, but that went out the window once Chuuya kissed me again.

My legs soon found themselves wrapped around Chuuya's hips. His pants were pushed down just enough to free his cock, my panties pushed to the side as he fucked me right on top of his desk.

"Fuck, dollface, you're even better than I fucking remembered," Chuuya hissed, pushing me on my back, on top of his messy papers. He tossed one of my legs over his shoulder, squeezing his gloved fingers into my flesh as I could only moan and whine in pleasure, his thrusts hitting hard and deep inside me, I was seeing stars.

"S-so much for... only one time, huh," I managed to choke out, my head tossing back as Chuuya hit that one spot. "Oh, fuck!"

"Yeah, shut up and take this cock," Chuuya hissed. His thumb pressed against my clit, and that was enough to have me squeezing him tight as I hit my orgasm, legs shaking and loud cries leaving my mouth.

That got him going and soon, Chuuya was pulling out and I was on my knees, fisting his cock and letting Chuuya cum in my mouth. Chuuya petted my hair, a blissed out look on his face. "Good girl. Now, bend yourself over the desk."

With shaking knees, I got myself up and bent over Chuuya's desk like he ordered, displayed all nice and pretty for him. I looked back over my shoulder, shuddering at how he looked at me, blue eyes full of hunger as he bit on his lower lip. His leather clad hands started to squeeze my ass, moving one hand up until he's pressing on the middle of my back, guiding his cock against my entrance with his other hand.

We borh groaned in pleasure as he started pushing himself in, Chuuya tossing his head back with a hiss. "Fuck, I'll never get tired of this." He starts thrusting his hips, moaning again at the feel of my walls around him. "Fuck, fuck..."

"It's all yours..." I could only babble out, the feel of him stretching me nice and good frying my brain. "Chuuya, please, oh my God..."

After two more soul shattering orgasms, I was finally allowed to leave... if I even could. There was a smug grin on Chuuya's face as he just stared at me. I sat in the chair across from him, the two of us dressed, but he looked like a damn model while I looked like I had a run in with the giant industrial fans they had in elementary school cafeterias during the warmer days.

"Get that dumb look off your face," I whined. "It's not fair. I looked like I got attacked."

Chuuya snickered. "I mean... that's not so far off."

I rolled my eyes. "Ugh, you and Dazai are so unbelievably horny, it's sad."

Chuuya growled. "First off, don't talk about him around me. And second, who was the one begging to titfuck my cock?"

I scoffed, face hot and I turned my nose up at him. "Shut up."

"Just go home."

"Fine. You guys are still cheaters anyway," I said before standing up. I walked over to him, leaning over his desk and I was happy when he met me halfway and gave me a kiss. "Call me again. Maybe when there isn't a weird investigation going on."

Chuuya rolled his eyes, shooing me away. "Just go."

I giggled softly before turning and walking out of the office. Chuuya sighed deeply, opening one of his desk drawers. He stared at the object inside of it for a moment, sighing again before grabbing his pack of cigarettes, taking one and lighting it up before taking a long drag.

-End

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[sherrybaby14]

The Acceptance

This is my submission for @darkmcuficswap​  @darkficsyouneveraskedfor​ Holiday swap!  My giftee is  @opheliadawnwalker3​. I hope you enjoy hun!

Summary:  After a holiday gone terribly wrong you face a decision with the new year. 

Holiday:  New Year's/Halloween 

Warnings:  Non Con (PLEASE DO NOT READ IF THIS OFFENDS YOU), SMUT, kidnapping, alcohol.  

****I have chosen not to warn for everything, please READ AT OWN RISK****

Words: 4000

Pairing:  Stucky x reader

December 31st 

The snow captivated you, tiny white flakes drifting down, landing without fear on the cold ground.  You pinched your eyes shut and bit your lip, wishing you were one of them, free to fall away from this place.  

A knock sounded on the door, but you didn’t turn away from the window.  The wood opened, the knock only a formality, you had no privacy anymore.  Not here.  Not with them.  

“I brought you something special to wear tonight.”  Steve’s voice used to sound like nails on a chalkboard, you missed those days when you would claw at him, scream, try to find a weapon.  The fight in you was burning out with the end of the year.  “I hope you’ll wear your makeup and hair to fit the look.”

There was a warning in his voice.  You dropped your chin in a nod.  He approached you from behind, but you didn’t tense as his hands touched your shoulders.  

“Good girl.”  He placed a kiss on the top of your head.  “If you behave we can have a lot of fun tonight.  All of us.  I promise Doll.”  

“If...if I’m good enough will you let me go?”  You turned and looked at Steve with hope that dashed away as soon as you saw the anger in his eyes.  “To the pool tomorrow?  I want to swim some laps.”  

A smile crept on Steve’s face.  You used to think of him as a symbol of American pride and righteousness, but now all you could see was the wickedness he hid.  

“I think your muscles will be plenty sore after tonight.”  He dropped his hands to your waist and pulled you closer.  “That was a nice attempt at covering the question though, but you know I can’t let that go unpunished.  Would you like to learn your lesson now or ruin our festivities later?”  

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.”  Tears spilled as you buried your head into his chest.  “Please, let’s have a good night.  I’ll be good I promise.”  

“Shhhh.”  Steve rubbed your back as you fisted his shirt, terrified of what he had in mind.  You felt his cock harden underneath his jeans, pressing to your stomach with the hug.  “No punishment, but make it up to me right now?”  

Steve’s hands slid up your shoulders and he applied a bit of pressure.  You nodded your head and locked eyes with him as you dropped to your knees.  

He pulled his cock out and you wasted no time taking him into your mouth, flicking your tongue as you gathered saliva to take him deeper.   

“There is no leaving here Doll.”  Steve’s fist found your hair as he started to work with your movements.  “And certainly not for good behavior.  I thought you were starting to understand?”

He let out a grunt and you worked his cock faster, reaching between his legs to fondle his balls as his pants slipped down his thighs.  

“You are so good.  You are the best.  Even when you’re bad, you’re too much fun to ever let go.”  Steve pushed your head down hard and you fought off the gag.  “I bet you’re soaked right now, sucking my cock this way.  Just a pool between your legs?  Once you stop fighting that and admit how happy you are, instead of asking for a swim asking me to fuck you?  Then you might get permission to go, but you’ll never leave because by then you will realize this is where you belong.”  

You squeezed your legs together and hated it that he was right.  You were dripping.  You looked up at him with begging eyes.  He nodded and you wrapped your body around his leg, straddling his shin you began to hump him while you continued sucking, taking him deeper and keeping pace with your mouth.  

“Fucking beautiful Doll.”  Steve bit his lip.  “Speed up because I’m going to finish.” 

You started to pant as you ground against him, trying to give your clit the pressure and action it needed to send you over the edge while drool ran down your chin. You pressed your tongue hard on the underside of his cock, taking him in with deep strokes.  

Your eyes pinched shut, but his hand grabbed your face and you popped them open.  Never look away when you cum. He glared at you with the intensity only he had and you exploded around his legs, bits of pleasure making you shake as your heart felt like it was beating out of your chest.  

Steve let out a moan and his dick expanded in your mouth before his seed shot to the back of your throat.  You flicked your tongue and sucked in your cheeks, knowing better than to let a drop spill.  

“Fuck Doll.”  Steve pulled out and tucked himself a way.  “You are amazing.”  

He lifted his leg and you cringed, all too aware of the wet spot on his jeans.  

“Don’t worry about it, I’m going to dress nicer tonight anyway.”  He kissed the top of your head.  “Be ready in three hours.”

You slumped on the floor as he left the room.  Your naked body recovering from the orgasm, almost upset it wasn’t more intense.  You liked it better when it came from a cock.  Your thoughts made you cringe. 

You were so used to being naked all the time it didn’t even register any more, and the thought about liking the more intense orgasms?   

“What the fuck is wrong with you.”  You looked back out to the snow, wondering if you could piece together where it had all gone wrong. 

~~

July

“I hate New York.”  You plopped down on the park bench next to your friend and pulled out your sandwich.  “I’m leaving the city as soon as I can.”  

“You’ve only been here six months.”  She laughed and handed you a pop.  “And you met me right? There’s something positive.” 

“I know.” You gave a frown. “I just thought I would get lost in a sea of people, maybe discover myself, but what I’m discovering is I hate crowds, I don’t like my job, and I always feel like someone is watching me.”  

“Like a guardian angel?”  

“No.”  You shook your head. “Like someone is going to jump out of the bushes and grab me.  I miss small town middle of nowhere life.  Not cut out for the city.”  

“Don’t give up yet.”  She touched your arm.  A loud SNAP came from the treeline and both of your heads whipped in that direction.  “Jesus.”  

She started to laugh first and then you joined in.  

“Come over tonight.  We can find you a new job, it’s the land of opportunity.”  

“Alright.”  You agreed mainly because you didn’t want to be alone.  

Your friend continued chatting but your eye’s couldn’t stop looking toward the bushes.  

~~

August

“I love New York.”  You grinned as you sat down next to your friend.  

“You got the job?”  She beamed at you.  

“I have no idea how or why, but yes.  You’re looking at the newest employee of Stark Enterprises.”  You kicked your knees up and punched the air.  “I mean, it’s a work from home gig, I have no office at the towers, I’m not going to meet the Avengers or anything, but the pay is good and the benefits are nice.  Maybe in a few months I’ll have enough to live in a safer neighborhood.”  

“Still getting stalker vibes?”  

“Big time.  I swear I felt someone breathing on my neck the other night.”  You touched the spot.  “I about sprinted home, but now I’ll never have to leave my apartment.”  

“I’m glad you’re calling it home.”  She gave you a nudge.  “And you will have to leave your apartment!  How else are you going to see me?  Let’s go out tonight and celebrate.”  

“Okay.”  You smiled. 

“Wow, you must be in a good mood, I don’t know that I’ve ever gotten you out after dark.  I was starting to think you were a vampire.”  

“I’m a morning person. No clubs, no bars, no crowds, maybe a nice dinner?”  You shrugged.  

“How are you ever going to meet someone if you don’t do anything social?”  She sighed at you.  “We’re going to a club.  Look nice.  I’ll pick you up at nine.”  

You wanted to object, but you rolled your eyes. Knowing nothing could make you turn her down.  A rock came out of nowhere and hit a pole ten feet from you, the clang making both of you jump.  

“Weird.”  You scanned the treeline but didn’t notice anything but the wind shaking a few bushes.    

“I’m going to call my friend Jonathan.  He will have a hot place to go.”  Your friend was oblivious to the strange happening.  

~~

The club was loud and you felt underdressed.  You watched your friend dance away with a stranger and admired her courage, she looked stunning and you looked like you blended in with the wall.  

“Can I buy you a drink?”  A voice yelled in your ear.  

You turned to see a decent looking man, nothing too special, but nothing threatening.  

“I’m good.”  You shook the full drink in your hand.  

“Bartender, two shots or your strongest stuff.”  The guy held up his fingers.  

“I really, I don’t take shots with strangers. Thank you though.”  You started to walk away but he reached out and grabbed your arm.  

“Come on, don’t be lame.”  The liquid was being poured into the glasses and your stomach turned at the sight.  “Take a drink with me.”  

Your heart rate went through the roof.  You hated saying no almost as much as you hated being grabbed.  Your lips parted as you tried to think about how to respond.  The internal struggle of obedience mixed with the anger about his hand on you.   

Before you could respond the man dropped away.  Someone stepped into the middle of you and pushed the man.  

“The lady said no.”  Was all you could make out over the roar of the club.  

The first guy tried to punch the second, but he grabbed his fist and crumbled it.  You looked at the scene in horror, clutching your purse.  

Violence, alcohol, music, your head began to spin.  You turned and walked outside, feeling a panic coming on.   The heat of the evening hit your face and you climbed into the nearest taxi, texting your friend as you got a ride home, vowing never to test the New York nightlife again.

~~

September

“We’re going to have to stop having lunch on park benches soon.”  You patted the puffer vest you were wearing.   

“About that,” she took a deep breath. “I didn’t know how to break it to you, but we’re going to have to stop having lunches altogether.”  

“What?”  Your eyes went wide.  “You’re joking right?  You’re like my only friend in the world.”  

“Out of the blue, a recruiter offered me this dream position.”  She turned and grabbed your hands.  “The pay is amazing and that’s not even the best part, it’s like the job was tailor made for me, but it’s in Paris.”  

“Paris?!?!”  Your jaw dropped. 

“We can facetime and you can visit?”  She was having a hard time hiding the glee that matched the despair you were feeling.  

“Congratulations.  I’m so happy for you.”  You smiled, not wanting to ruin her moment, hating New York again.  

~~

October 31

You taped shut the last of the moving boxes.  It was sad seeing your entire life packed up, unable to notice how small the stack was.  All the furniture came with the apartment, you weren’t much of a shopper and never got around to getting that cat.  

Your phone rang and you recognized your boss’s phone number, picking up right away.  

“Hello, Mr. Jones, I’m all packed up.”  You set the last box down.  

“Good, good.  The moving van will be there tomorrow early, we’re looking forward to you joining our team.”  His voice sounded oddly familiar, but you kept brushing it off.  “And you’re still coming to the party tonight?”  

“About that.”  You hit your laptop’s button and saw the invitation.  “I’m really not much of a party person, and I never got around to getting a costume.”  

“I was clear when I offered you the promotion.  We’re a small R&D team, we work very closely.  It is important you bond with us.  People are expecting you, costume and all.”  His tone was almost scolding.  

“Well, we’re going to be living together.  I’m sure there’s plenty of time.  I’d rather get settled first.”  You almost turned the promotion down because of that fact, but then you looked into Stark Corp’s R&D, a team of 100 people who worked around the clock, if you put in a year there you were golden.  It was impossible to turn down even if it did involve living in some town upstate.  

“The car is picking you up in an hour.  You will be here in five.  If you don’t have a costume, then dress nice.  People are looking forward to meeting you.” He paused.  “I am looking forward to having you.”  

“Alright.”  You told yourself you heard him wrong before hanging up the phone.  

There was something off about the situation.  Like you wished you had someone to tell where you were going to stay for the next year.  You hadn’t spoken to your friend since the Paris move, and there was really nobody else in your life to tell.  The foster parents you hadn’t spoken to in years?  The ex who broke your heart?  The former best friend he slept with?  Maybe the crazy old lady down the hall?  

 With a tap of the keys you pulled up the email from “Tony Stark'' offering you the position. This was a top level fortune 500 company.  There was nothing to worry about.  You were being paranoid and needed to accept that your dream was coming true.  

~~

This car felt too important for you.  The driver was friendly, but you ran out of things to say an hour ago.  You glanced at your phone, noting that you were getting close.  Then you noticed a no service bar in the corner.  

“I’ll have to get a new plan.”  You tried to call a random number and got nothing. “No service.”  

“No, this is a top secret area.”  The driver turned and smiled at you. “No service from any provider.  Nothing surrounding the house for 10 miles in any direction, even then it's only a few hunting cabins. Most are abandoned.  You must be a very special lady to make the team.”  

“I don’t know much about the team, only what the website said, and Mr. Jones of course.”  You didn’t think of the isolation when you accepted.  

“Tony had the area declared a no fly zone by the US Government.”  The driver tapped the wheel.  “If you look to your left soon you’ll see the fence.  It’s impenetrable.”  

Tony? The driver must be high up if that was how he referred to Stark. Your thoughts were distracted when you saw the metal and the wiring shine in the distance.  

“This place looks like Jurassic Park.”  The driver slowed as the gate opened ahead.  “I’m starting to think I’ll get kicked out in a week.”  

Anxiety flooded you, you weren’t ready for this.  You’d worked there what? A few months?  You weren’t this smart, what could you contribute?  

“Don’t worry,  I have it on good authority you’re perfect for the role.”  The driver grinned, it was so genuine and infectious you smiled back and your nerves calmed.  

“I understand why people call you Happy.”  You relaxed.  “It fits.”  

“So I’ve been told.”  He looked back to the road.  “I probably won’t see you again, it was a pleasure driving you though.  I’m sure Mr. Rogers will take good care of you.”  

“Rogers?”  You raised an eyebrow.  

“Whatever generic name you want to use, Smith, Mason, Miller, Brown.  They’ll assign you one too.”  Happy shrugged.  “You’re a VIP now.”  

A wave of stupidity washed over you.  It never occurred to you that pseudonyms were being used.    

The house started to come into view.  You grabbed the headrests and moved forward.  It was a mansion, almost a castle.  The place was modern, as if it was made with black glass somehow.  

“This is bigger than a football stadium.”  You had to crane your neck to see up.  

“Just a house Miss.”  Happy pulled into the drive.  “Nothing you can’t handle.”  

He put the car in park and winked at you.  All your nerves were calmed, this was perfect.  Your dream come true.  You were picturing a college dorm situation, but one thousand people could live here, let alone one hundred.  

“Thank you.”  You opened the door to the car as Happy left and went for the trunk.  

You started to stand when something fell off your lap, you chuckled to yourself, your nerves being replaced with excitement as you put on the witch’s hat.  A simple accessory that turned your black dress into a costume.   

There was a warmth growing in you as you walked up the massive steps, taking in the building in the night sky, almost some primal feeling telling you that you were home. 

Happy pushed open the door and set your bag down.  You followed after, entering a great hall, you were beaming ready to meet your new team, but your smile faded when you saw it was empty.  

“Where is everyone?”  You looked at the staircases that wound up to either side, the  echo of your voice giving you an empty feeling. 

“You got her here in one piece?”  Mr. Jones’ voice boomed across the bricks.  

“As promised.”  Happy shrugged.  

“And she wore a costume?”  A new voice made you look to the other stairwell.  

Your brain tried to register the voices with the faces, but the faces took over.  

“Steve Rogers and James Barnes?”  Avengers. Real ones.  You kept looking back and forth.  “What?  How important is this place?”  

You didn’t know whether to thank them for all they had done for the world or question whether you deserved to be on this team.  

“Now that you’re here Doll, it’s the most important place in the world.”  They both arrived at the bottom at the same time.  

“My cue to leave, have a nice night gentlemen.”  Happy sounded so distant as the door shut behind him.  

“I’m,  my name is,  this is so embarrassing.”  You let out a laugh as you brought your hand to your chest.  “I didn’t think I would be meeting Avengers.”  

They walked toward you, both of them as if they were circling you.  

“We know your name Doll.”  Captain America reached out and touched your chin.  

You backed up and ran into the Winter Soldier.  

“We know everything about you.”  The brunette’s hands slid down your arms and stopped at your wrists.  “I’ve been waiting for this for months.”  

He placed a kiss on your neck and you started to step forward, but ran right into Captain, who again touched your chin, this time with a little more force.  

“What?”  You didn’t know what else to say.  

“It was getting too difficult to stay away..”  Steve pressed his forehead to yours.  “Welcome home Love.” 

“I’ve…sorry, what?”  James’ tongue slid up your neck and you gasped, Steve used the opportunity to slide his own into your mouth.  

You were so confused, but reacted on instinct, trying to raise your hands to shove Steve away only to be met with a tighter grip on your wrists by the man behind you. 

Steve let out a chuckle while continuing to kiss you as his hands found your breasts.  He kneaded them as your brain tried to catch up with your body, his fingers finding your nipples through the material of your dress, you let out a squeal as he gave a pinch.  

“Remember, I won the bet.”  James’ teeth grazed your neck as Steve stopped the kiss.  “She wore a costume.”  

Steve scowled as he walked away from you.   

“What’s happening?”  You tried to fight the fog.  “Where am I?”  

“You’re home.”  Steve walked toward a chair and then sat down, you were too busy watching him you didn’t realize a wrist had been freed until the sound of your zipper going down snapped you back to reality.  

Instead of trying to run you attempted to hold the garment up.  Anger flashed on Captain America’s eyes as the Winter Soldier tore the entire thing away.  

“No clothes.  None.  I wanted her naked all the time.”  Steve reached into his pants and pulled his cock out.  

You whimpered at the sight, he was large.  Wait what?  You were too concentrated on the wrong thing and you didn’t notice your bra sliding down your arms.  You started to turn around to shove James away, but he used your motion to flip you over his shoulder and run down the hall.  

SMACK!  His hand hit with your ass as you bobbed over his shoulder, too shocked to really react.  You lifted your head to see the witch hat on the stone floor.   

“I’m so proud of you for wearing the costume.”  The man dropped you, but before you hit the floor his hand was on your back, laying you down on a fur rug. “But I’ve been proud of you for months.  My girl.”  

You tried to spin to your stomach and wiggle away, but he placed a cold hand around your neck, not tight but enough to pin you in place as you shoved at his shoulders.  

“It’s why I get the honor of fucking you first.” His other hand found your panties and shredded them with ease.  “Steve didn’t think you’d listen, but I know what a good girl you are.  How perfect.  Our good girl.”

“Stop rubbing it in Bucky.”  Steve’s voice made you arch your neck to see him sitting in a chair, stroking himself.  

A finger ran up your slit and your attention went back to Bucky as you gasped.  

“She’s soaked.”  He looked up at Steve with a grin.

Everything came flooding down at once and you let out a scream as you renewed your struggles.  The men laughed.  

“At least give me a show while I tell our new teammate about her position.”  Steve dropped to his knees.  

Hands were on you as if they had practiced it, James moving to his back so his legs were in front of you while Steve guided you up so you were facing him.  The sound of a zipper came again and you felt Bucky’s cock brush against your thighs as Captain America positioned you.  

“We like to keep an eye on our people.” Steve spoke as Bucky’s hands grabbed your legs and moved you so your entrance was right about his rigid cock. “And we’ve been watching you for some time now.”  

Metal and flesh fingers were on your waist while Steve’s hands went to your shoulders, pushing you down.  You moaned as Bucky’s thick head slid inside with more ease than you were aware.   

Everything was happening too fast. You struggled to breathe, unsure what to focus on: the cock sliding inside of you or the information being displayed. 

  You pictured the park, the feeling of a stalker, the fight in the club, the dream job, the better job, your friend’s Paris position.  

“That’s good Doll.”  Steve licked his lips. “That understanding.  You knew.  You always knew, but you kept inviting us in.”  

“She feels so fucking good.”  Bucky lifted his ass while you continued to lower on his cock, feeling it hit your cervix you let out a cry.  “She was made for us.”  

“You craved us, didn’t you?”  Steve cupped your face as Bucky began to fuck you.  “You knew what this was. Admit it?”  

You didn’t understand anything. You knew nothing.  

“No, stop that.”  Steve pressed his lips to yours while Bucky dug his fingers into your hips, making you bounce on him.  “I see the struggle in your eyes.  Stop denying the truth.”  

You moaned as Bucky began to make your pussy quake, a coil tightening in your stomach.  

“Let her struggle.” Bucky groaned as he held you down, rocking his cock back and forth.  “We’ll guide her down the right path.”  

“I...I...don’t.”  You thought you might have been trying to say no, but your body was being taken over, your mind losing control.  

“Oh you do Doll.”  Steve brought his thumb to your mouth and you parted your lips as he dragged it along your tongue.  “You know.  You know this is what you need. It’s been almost a year since you came, you don’t even touch yourself.” 

Your eyes went wide with that personal information.  

“We know everything.”  Steve lowered his wet thumb.  “Never lie to us, because we know.”  

You cried out as he pressed his digit to your clit, rubbing in circles with such pressure as James railed into you.  

There was no warning as you came, your body shaking.  Your vision blackened, making you collapse against Steve, shivers sending you to another dimension.  Bucky bottomed out, joining you, contracting and filling you with his cum.  

“Wait.”  You didn’t lift your head, too lost for such a simple task.  You didn’t get what was happening, but you knew one thing for sure.  “I’m not on birth control.”  

“Oh yes you are.”  Bucky hit your ass with a smack as he lifted you off of him. 

Steve spun to the carpet, replacing Bucky’s cock with his own as he cradled you to his chest.  You moaned while he filled your over sensitive pussy once again.   

“For a few months now.”  Steve left your chest pressed to his while he lifted his hips, his pelvis gracing your clit with every thrust.  “You have nothing to worry about now Doll.  You’re home.”  

~~~

December 31

You hated your naivety, you hated what they had put you through. But what you hated most of all was the denial. 

The denial that you liked it.  You loved the way they knew what was best, the way they punished you, the way they rewarded you, the way your life had stability for this first time.  

When the knock sounded on your door you said goodbye to the snowflakes at the window.  Maybe you were more like them than you wanted to admit, they would melt someday and you had to accept that you already had.  

You turned to see Bucky and Steve walk in wearing Tuxedos.  They both frowned that you weren’t wearing the beautiful dress Steve brought you, but no doubt confused by the time you spent getting your makeup and hair ready.  Rolling your shoulders back you accepted your fate. 

“Will you please fuck me?”  

[thisisawonderfulusername]

let's save the world

season two, episode six

five hargreeves x reader

summary: you attend a light supper with the hargreeves family- you’re confident to say it was a shit supper

warnings: cursing, the asshole reginald

word count: 4.5k

a/n: okay, i’m so sorry that this part took so long to come out (it’s also kinda short but that’s more because the episode focuses a lot more on the other siblings), at first i stopped writing for a week or two and then i kinda focused on requests because i didn’t want those people waiting too long, but hopefully i’ll be able to crank these out over the next week and finish the second season. which comes the question: when season three comes out, do you want me to continue this? it might be a while, and it will also depend if i feel like continuing, but i want to know what you want as well. thanks :) please enjoy

i’m also sorry if there are any inconsistencies. i realized i’ve had r go back to the cafe on multiple occasions when she said she wouldn’t be back- i went ahead and changed that. i might have to read through my own story to fix my mistakes 😪

after your drunken four person party at the hair salon, everyone went on their own ways to confront the issues they had so that they could have some semblance of peace before the six days you had were up.

you couldn’t exactly face your problem. it came in the form of a certain fifty-eight year old man that had fucked up both of your bodies, and you didn’t know where he was. sure, you could admit the problem and see that as facing it, but you wanted to at least tell five. you had no clue as to why.

for that moment, you allowed yourself to let it go. you were stumbling through the streets with the near empty bottle of champagne almost slipping from your grip. it was definitely a sight to see, one that would definitely be concerning to the passerby- only a few spared you a glance, though.

when you ended up at the cafe that you had missed, even after only being away for a day or two, you looked through the window from a few feet away. taking one last glance to the bottle, you quickly downed the remaining drink before tossing it into a nearby trash can and pushing through the door that rang a bell atop it.

stacy happened to be on shift, and when she looked over to see you, she had a smile at first- until she noticed your state. “y/n? what happened?”

waving your hand in dismissal, you push past the swinging gate. her face scrunches up as you move past her, “is that- are you drunk?”

with a shrug, you lean against the door to the back, only a push away from falling straight onto your back. “i’d like to think i hold my alcohol well,” you lick your lips, a small smile tugging your lips up, “it’s nice to see you again.”

before she had a chance to respond- to question why you were drinking, since she thought you to be a teenager, you had pushed through into the kitchen. you could walk to the stairs to the apartment with your eyes closed, and you nearly did. it was made a bit more difficult, since you were unable to balance fully on your feet, but you managed.

it only took you a few minutes to wrestle with the lock before you stumbled through the door and to the bed, falling onto the soft mattress, almost instantaneously passing out.

-

when you woke up, you had a killer headache, and you had to lay with your face in the pillow beneath your head- one that had a pool of drool sinking into the fabric, but you couldn’t care for that right now- for a few minutes to remember what you did yesterday that gave you the horrible ache. it came back to you slowly, and you sighed heavily as you sat up, running your fingers through your messed hair.

standing from the bed, you made your way into the bathroom, looking in the mirror hanging above the sink to fix you hair that seemed to have gone through hell, with how it had been messed up so severely.

you shook your head once you were done, fixing your shirt slightly and grabbing a pain killer before shutting the light off and moving to leave the apartment. your eyebrows furrowed when your gaze fell upon an envelope that looked like it had been slipped through the crack at the bottom of your door.

glancing around the small room cautiously, you slowly stepped towards it, snatching it up off of the wooden floor once you made it. it was plain, save for the circular golden sticker holding the flap closed.

you pursed your lips, hesitantly pulling the sticker off and pulling the card inside out. your eyes skimmed over the words written.

from the office of sir reginald hargreeves

to my pursuers:

i, reginald hargreeves, request the pleasure of your company for a light supper on the twentieth of november, nineteen sixty-three, at half past seven o’clock.

-1624 magnolia street-

dallas, texas

“shit,” you mutter to yourself quietly, the envelope drifting to the floor as you release your grip on it to scratch your scalp. glancing towards the calendar, which had previously been used to count the days you were stuck here alone, your eyebrows furrow. “that’s today.”

-

you make your way to the address listed on the paper, looking at the tall building once you finally make it.

southland life.

reading the card once more to be sure this was the place, you sighed softly and walked across the parking lot to get to the entrance, not sparing another look up as you walk through the door.

looking around as you make your way up polished steps, you stuff the now folded card into your back pocket. as you get to the elevators, you see that one is already opened, so you quickly walk over to get in before it leaves you behind.

when you look into the opened doors, you stop for a moment when you see five. “oh,” you stare at him for a moment. “you’re back.”

“yeah.” he motions to his side for you to actually step in, and you realize that you hadn’t actually done that yet, practically jumping inside.

you stick your hands in your pockets. “you usually don’t just up and go like that on me.” you point out his previous actions, indirectly questioning where he had gone that was so important to leave you behind.

“sorry,” he glances to the ground, and you could tell he actually was. “i-”

he was cut off by the sight of a hand stopping the doors just as they nearly closed, “wait up.”

it’s diego who steps into the small space next, and you all look at each other in surprise and confusion, before the rest of the hargreeves family files in, all glancing at each other. it ends with luther, who you have to move to the side for.

the doors finally close on all of you, and there is a silence that you know is from the anticipation of what exactly is going to happen. the numbers over the doors begin to light up, one by one, each letting a ding echo through the space.

after a few seconds, a stench fills the air that has your nose beginning to scrunch up as you try not to breathe in- everyone else notices the smell, and soon it’s realized that luther was the one who had caused it. “sorry.” he stared straight at the numbers, not looking at any of you, “i’m nervous.”

the doors take way too long to open, but when they do everyone is rushing out, covering their noses to avoid smelling it any longer.

when you enter the floor, a sign hanging from a pole supporting the roof tells you that it is a tiki bar- if it wasn’t obvious enough from the beachy decorations surrounding you.

“alright,” five is the first to get to the table, standing by a seat surrounding the circle. “when dad gets here, i’ll do the talking, okay?”

it’s more of a statement than a question- you know that and you aren’t about to argue. the only thing you know about the man is what five told you when he was actually thirteen. that he was a man who cared for nothing but himself and creating a team that he could control. you believed it. it was hard not to.

“i’ve got a few questions for him myself.” diego tells him, and you know if he actually managed to ask any of them, this whole meeting would be over in an instant. he wasn’t exactly the calm and understanding type.

you shake your head as you turn to look at them, standing at the chair next to five, “we don’t want to scare him off.” you tell them, glancing over everyone, “he might be able to help us stop this new apocalypse and get home.”

the man isn’t so ready to cooperate. “no, y/n, we need to figure out why he’s planning to kill the president.”

“okay, this is a matter of life and death, you imbecile!” five argues back, and you can tell this supper is going to be a real shit show.

“okay, maybe we should take turns talking?” vanya suggests, everyone looking to her as she grabs one of the decorations, “alright, whoever has this conch shell gets to talk.”

you run a hand down your face. this family and their terrible communication. “vanya, we don’t have time for a debate, okay?” five tells her, already seeming to begin to lose his patience.

“maybe i should lead.” allison walks forward and takes the shell from the other girl, “we all know i’m a much better public speaker than the rest of you.”

diego looks at her from where he paces, “okay, daddy’s girl.” the jab is small, but you know it’s going to set off a lot. you look to five, your expression showing all of what you think. he just shrugs.

“oh, jealous number two?” the girl questions, raising an eyebrow at him.

the man moves around the table, “hey, no more numbers.” he glances around, “no more bullshit. we’re team zero.”

your eyebrows furrow in confusion. what is this crap? team zero?

“uh, diego.” luther speaks from his seat, “you don’t have the conch.” he motions to the object in allison’s hand.

you have to look down at the table to hold in your laugh at that.

the man gives a tight lipped smile, holding his finger up for a second before taking the conch from allison and... throwing it, letting it shatter against the wall.

you’re about to finally let your laugh out, until the door comes swinging open, reginald swiftly making his way to the table as everyone stares. he sits and everyone is silent as they take their seats as well, and you fidget with your fingers.

“you have not only burglarized my lab, set my chimp loose,” his tone is serious as he fixes the cuffs of his sleeves, “conned your way into the mexican consulate, repeatedly stalked and attacked me,” you didn’t realize how much you had really done until you had gotten the list from the old man, and you see that he has brought a notebook with him when he brings out a pencil. “but you have, on numerous occasions, called me...”

klaus is pulling a chair out next to him, a drink in hand. of course he had gone to the bar already. “hey, pop.” he smiles as he sits and leans back in the chair, “how’s it hangin’?”

reginald barely looks at him when he intrudes his little speech, his eyes moving to look around at all of you. “...dad.” you glance to your side to see how five’s doing, and as you had expected, he was annoyed. you could tell by the way his jaw had begun to lock in it’s place. “my reconnaissance tells me that you are not cia, not kgb, certainly not mi-five, so.” he places the pencil on the table, “who are you?”

everyone is silent, not sure exactly what to say, but five speaks up after a moment. “we’re your children.”

“except for me.” you cut in, holding up a finger just so he knew. you did not want to be associated with this man.

his gaze falls on you two as five takes a quick glance in your direction, “we’re from the future.” he continues as if you hadn’t interrupted him, “in nineteen eighty-nine, you adopted us and trained us to fight against the end of the world.” the old man looks around, seemingly not believing what he was saying. “called us the umbrella academy.”

his gaze continues to move around, “why on earth would i adopt six-”

“seven.” he is cut off by allison, “one of us isn’t here.”

diego is staring at the table, “dead.” he informs, looking up, “one of us is dead.”

“yeah, ba-ba-ba-ba-ba-ba, enough of that now,” klaus speaks from his chair and you all look to him, slightly confused as he had turned to talk to what seemed like an empty space behind him. he turns back to the table, waving his hand in a silent sign to continue.

reginald laces his fingers together on the table, “regardless,” he looks away from who looked like a crazy person, “what would possess me to adopt seven ill-mannered malcontents?”

“we all have special abilities,” you lean forward on the table with a pursed smile on your face, “but, once again, you didn’t get me.” you wag your finger in the air, feeling the need to reassure that point.

“special?” reginald seems to ignore your second point, an eyebrow raised in interest, “in what sense?”

“in the superpower sense.” luther speaks from beside him, giving a small smile as he nods.

the old man looks to him, “call me old fashioned, but i’m a stickler for a pesky little thing called evidence.” he returns his gaze to everyone, “show me.”

allison picks up her drink, stirring it with her straw, “everyone wants to see powers all of a sudden,” she jokes, taking a sip.

“we’re not circus animals, okay?” luther informs him, “we’re not going to balance balls on our noses and... clap our hands like seals for your amusement.” he claps his hands together a few times. just as he finished speaking, though, a knife flies through the air, curving around reginald to stick in one of the wooden pillars.

it’s quiet as everyone looks at the knife, before reginald opens his notebook and begins scribbling something. everyone leans forward, “what are you writing?” diego questions quickly.

he looks up from the paper, “you are zero for two, young man.”

allison giggles into her drink, and diego begins to push away from the table to go after their dad. you try to stand and stop him, but five gets there before you in a flash of blue. “stop!” he whispers to him, his hands on his shoulders for a moment to keep him from moving any further.

you sit back down in your seat, and look to reginald, who seems impressed. “now, that is interesting.”

with a sigh, five moves away. “alright, quick run down.” he begins to move around the table, pointing to each person as he gives away their powers, “luther: super strength, klaus can commune with the dead, y/n can create and control fire, and allison can rumor anyone to do anything.”

“but she never uses it.” diego takes his seat again, and allison rolls her eyes.

looking up from her drink, she looks to him. “i heard a rumor, you punched yourself in the face.” his eyes turn white and his hand balls into his fist before colliding with his face, and you cringe as he groans in pain, holding his head in his hands.

as he curses in pain, reginald seems to ignore it as he looks to the woman sitting next to him. vanya. “and you?” he questions her.

“uh, maybe we don’t take vanya for a test run.” luther suggests, and everyone seems to agree.

she looks nonchalant about it. “it’s fine.” she says with a shrug, “i can handle it.”

she reaches for a fork, and everyone begins to try to stop her, “handle it?” allison questions with a raised brow, “last time you handled it, you definitely blew up the moon.”

when she doesn’t seem to be stopping to everyone’s protests, clinking the metal to her glass, all of you begin to push away from the table, but it’s too late when the fruit at the center of the table explodes, covering the table and everyone around it.

you look to your shirt in disgust. she couldn’t have done something a bit less messy?

she smiles in her seat, shrugging her shoulders as she looks to the table. “oops.”

allison presses her lips together as she gets another drink and switches her straw over. diego stands from his seat, leaning onto the table. “look, we know you’re involved in a plot to assassinate the president.” he speaks, and you roll your eyes at his continued insistence to save the president, as if that wouldn’t change the timeline one bit.

reginald looks to him. “you were recently hospitalized, correct?” you can’t help but to clench your jaw at the mention, “you still appear to be suffering from delusions of grandeur and acute paranoia.” his tone is matter of fact.

you look to five, who also seems to be knowing the direction this dinner was taking. south. plummeting into a near-erupting volcano that bubbled at the surface.

“am i?” diego pulls the picture of their dad in the grassy knoll out of his back pocket, reaching over the table to put it in front of him. “that’s you.” he informs, pointing to his figure in the picture, “that’s two days from now on the grassy knoll, at the exact spot the president is going to get shot.”

picking the paper up, he looks to him after inspecting it for a moment. “well...” he looks around before passing the picture back over the table, “i suppose you’ve solved it. you have single handedly unearthed my nefarious plot.”

diego looks at him, and you bite your lip. suddenly, you feel bad for him- mostly because reginald was a bastard that you could easily burn for everything he had done. “is that what you wanted to hear?” he questions, “you fancy yourself a do-gooder? the last man who will save us from our descent into corruption and conspiracy?” everyone is silent as he continues, “this is a fantastic delusion. despite the reality that you are a desperate man, tragically unaware of his own insignificance, desperately clinging to his own ineffectual reasoning. more succinctly, a man in over his head.”

he had sunk back down to his seat throughout his father’s speech, and you could see the tears gathering in his eyes. you look to five and he returns your gaze, and you can feel the frown that sets into your face. he sighs softly, looking down to the table as diego stutters his denial.

everyone is silent for another few moments, and you shake your head. “look, forget about the president.” you wave your hand as if to swat the idea out of the air, “we have a catastrophic war coming in five days. we need to figure out how to stop it.”

reginald looks at you. “war? men will always be at war with one another.”

“no, this isn’t just some war.” five tells him from beside you, his fingers laced together on the table that he leans on, “we’re talking about a doomsday. the end of the world.”

the old man looks at him for a moment. “well,” he says after a moment, raising his hands to motion to the group, “you’re the special ones, aren’t you?” he smiles, but you can see the sarcasm behind it, “why don’t you band together and do something about it?”

you all stare at him, until from the chair next to him, klaus’ hands fly up into the air and he begins to shake, choked gasps escaping him. “is he having a seizure?” allison asks in concern, everyone looking at him in confusion.

“overdosing, probably.” diego comments.

luther’s eyebrows furrow, “should we do something?”

“klaus!” five whisper-yells at the man as he leans over the table, “now is not the time! what are you doing?”

he slowly turns towards where you’re sitting, and you grimace as you see the vessels that are beginning to pop out from beneath his skin, his face turning red from his choked breathing. “i’m...” the word is barely there.

“out with it, boy!” reginald exclaims.

“ben!” after the word is spoken, he goes limp and falls to the ground, shuddering from where he lays on the wood.

reginald closes his book, placing it on top of some folders that he had also brought, “well...” standing from his seat, he tucks the things in the nook of his arm, “thank you all for coming. i’ve seen about enough.”

as he steps over the barely conscious klaus, luther watches, “no- i-” after a second, his hands slam down onto the table, making you flinch slightly from the sudden bang. he stands, ripping his button-up open, “look at what you did to me!” he seems distressed as he shouts, “look at it!”

five lets out a slight huff, falling back into his seat. “oh, shit. why?”

you bury your face in your hands, unable to comprehend how broken this family is. what is wrong with all of them? you don’t think you’ll ever know.

you look back up as reginald glances around before pointing to five. “you in the culottes.” the young-looking boy lifts his head to look at him, “a word, in private?” he doesn’t give him a chance to answer as he turns to leave, walking away from the family.

watching as five gets up, you fight for words but can’t manage to say anything as he leaves you behind. he seems to enjoy doing that these past two days.

“check, please.” allison holds her finger up for the waiter to end this shit show already. you don’t even wait for the paper to come, standing from your seat to get in the elevator ahead of them all.

the numbers ticked down as you stare up at them, letting out a soft sigh in the otherwise silent space. when the doors slide open, you’re left staring out into the hallway for a moment before you finally stepped out and left the building to be hit with the chilly night air.

deciding to stay a bit to possibly catch five on his way out you move to the side of the entrance on the sidewalk, sitting down on the cold concrete. you can see the cars waiting in the parking lot. you think one of them must be reginald’s.

a few minutes later the other siblings exit the building, and you watch silently as they begin to make their way away from the building- but diego and luther come to talk to you first.

“you’re not heading back to elliott’s place?” the knife thrower questions, raising an eyebrow at you as you look at him.

shaking your head, you pull your knees to your chest to get a bit more warmth. “i’m going to try to wait for five. i’d rather he not leave me behind for something important again.”

it’s quiet for a moment as the two nod, before luther claps his hands together. “alright, then. we’ll see you when you get back.”

you play with your fingers as they walk away and one of the car leaves- vanya had gotten in, so you assume it was her ‘farm frau’ as klaus had called her. the rest of the siblings quickly disappeared to... wherever they were going, and you were left alone (aside from the car that awaited reginald’s exit).

after waiting for you don’t know how long- maybe about twenty minutes or so- you see the flash of blue that signals five’s arrival and you quickly jump up from the concrete.

“oh, finally.” you sigh, brushing off your pants as he does the same with his uniform jacket, “it was starting to get too cold. what did the old man say? does he know how to stop this thing?”

the frown on his face tells you otherwise, and he sighs softly. “he didn’t help with anything. just told me what i already know.”

you run your fingers through your hair, staying quiet for a moment. “so, what do we do now?” the question almost makes you sound weak, and you hate it. you were just tired of having to save the world from something that you don’t even know.

“now, we make a deal.” he tells you, and you furrow your eyebrows in confusion, watching as he glances to the ground. “the handler told me she would give us a briefcase in return for a favor.”

you feel your shoulders slump slightly at the mention of the woman. “i can’t believe this.” you shake your head with a sigh, but you’re already grabbing his hand so he can flash you to wherever she may be.

when he doesn’t do it, you look at him with a raised eyebrow. he looks surprised, for some reason. “you’re not going to ask what it is?” he asks, wondering why you just blindly agreed.

“i trust you.” you shrug, and you yourself also find it incredibly stupid. the deal could be a death trap that you didn’t know about, yet you’re ready just because he thinks it will help save everyone’s ass.

after a moment of quiet, he nods. “okay.” he blows out some air, and you feel his hand tighten around yours slightly. “you should know, though. she wants us to kill the board.”

that is what really gets you. “the board? how are we even supposed to do that?”

“she knows when and where they’re meeting.” he tells you, and you purse your lips.

“alright.” you take a deep breath, “let’s make this deal before i change my mind.”

he nods, and without another second, you’ve appeared in front of the door of a room that looks to be in a very fancy hotel. you keep hold of his hand, not able to deny the nervousness that washes over you at this task. but you could do it. you were one of the best assassins, so what’s killing a few more people?

after five knocks on the doors a few times, they open to show a smiling handler. “ah!” she exclaims, and you can tell she had been waiting on the two of you. “just in time for a nightcap.”

she walks away from the door and you finally release his hand when you step in and close the doors behind you. “to be clear.” five speaks as the handler holds a cocktail out to him, “we take out the board... you get us all home. no doomsday, no apocalypse.”

as he speaks she had moved to the bed, laying on top of the covers on her side as she takes a drag from her cigarette. holding a paper up in the air. “that’s the deal.”

“we’re in.” you tell her before you can think any further, just knowing that this was a way to get home, the only way you knew of at the moment. if you didn’t take this, who knows if you would be able to stop this. the first time around you didn’t even stop the apocalypse, only escaped it.

when she waved the paper, you stepped forward and took it, unfolding the invitation. five looks over your shoulder. there’s a seal of a bird at the top, and you quickly skim over the words.

the lonely lodger inn

oshkosh wisconsin, 1982

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[batarella]

The Odyssey - (Professor!Jason x Professor!Reader)

I SWEAR I’M NOT A FELON. ALL THESE PUBLIC SEX CONTENT IS PURELY JUST FOR THE SAKE OF CONTENT. DON’T CALL THE POLICE.

ALSO, I’d like to thank @offendedfishnoises and @sarcasmismyfirstlove for this idea (those thirsty bitches wanted this a lot) and @idkmanicantenglish for providing me with such amazing suggestions! love you guys but ya’ll are an astronomical level of horny

WORDS: 2461 WARNINGS: ORAL SEX. FUCKING ON A DESK. JEEZ\

Masterlist

Fucking hell, you were so doing this on purpose.

And it didn’t help that you were late. Even if he weren’t at the podium standing in front of almost a hundred people, he could just feel how half his students’ attention had long left him and were almost drenching the floors of their drool. It sickened him. You, with your insanely fitting pencil skirt hugging your curves, a thin button shit that laid so delicately against your skin, high heels on your feet as red as the lipstick you were wearing, and a pencil you used to hold your hair up in a bun, you took the front seat, crossed your leg over the other and pulled out your notes.

Professor Jason Todd stopped with his lecture for the tiniest minute to breathe, and he told himself it was because you, his co-worker, were assigned to observe how he’d deal with such a number of students before sending the report over to human resources. His job was on the line. Of course, he’d be sweating off his pits.

Yeah, it was totally because of that.

“As I was saying,” he said. “The Iliad and the Odyssey are the oldest surviving works of Ancient Greek Literature…”

You started jotting down onto your notebook, not of his lecture, but on how he was speaking, standing, and interacting with the students, your eyes peeking up from your dark-framed glasses and looking directly into his own. Pursing your red lips together, you inched up your seat, and your skirt riding up your thighs caught Jason’s attention more times than he would ever say.

But he managed to continue speaking at a modulated volume as if he weren’t distracted at all.

“We have little reliable information about him other than that he was blind and may have been from island of Chios. He probably made money singing at festivals. Milman Perry in the 1920s speculated that Homer…”

Half an hour passed perhaps. He was doing fine. Great, in fact. You had stopped with your notes for the moment and were leaning back against the chair, the tip of your pencil between your teeth. Dark red lipstick looked so good on you…

“A-and,” he coughed. “About the Greek’s religion…”

Okay. You looked absolutely gorgeous. He never denied that. But the way you were looking at him now? In the middle of a lecture when you were supposed to make sure he doesn’t mess up? Jason wanted to dig himself a hole right in the middle of the concrete floor and die.

You smiled at him.

That’s when he audibly stuttered, cleared his throat, thought back for a few good seconds on what the hell he was saying, before he continued.

He had to stop looking at you.

Look at anyone else. That kid who looked like something was up his nose. A girl who was writing down every word he said without missing a syllable and still had her phone up to record him. A boy with dark eyes who’d fallen asleep on his desk. Another guy three seats away from you, looking over at your chest.

Three knocks on his podium to catch everyone’s attention. Everyone stopped with their whispers and naps and looked back at him again.

But it wasn’t without glancing down at your chest, too. Just to know what that other guy was gawking at. And as if you knew, you breathed in with your chest up and he could see how the buttons of your shirt barely did their job.

He had to look away before he’d be given any more chances at a peek at your dark-colored bra.

Homer. Odyssey. A journey that lasted decades and other shit he’s known since 5th grade. This was exhausting. Trying not to look at you was exhausting. Being ashamed of getting a hard on behind the podium in the middle of a fucking lecture was exhausting. And later tonight, he probably won’t have the energy left in him to go on patrol.

Alright. He can take this. He knew what to do.

“Please take out any paper you have with you and write down a piece of ancient Greek literature you want to do for this week’s paper. I’ll give you five minutes.”

Breathe. Fucking breathe. This was his chance to breathe. He probably hadn’t in the last hour, because it felt like not even the tiniest bit of oxygen was flowing up to his brain.

But the demons in him spoke against his ear. It was telling him to look up at you again. Just a glance.

You were swinging your leg, your back straight as a pole and your teeth around the pencil once again. You smiled at him, this time with your eyes so dark and deep that it sent his blood flow roaring around the vessels in his body. Jason didn’t smile back. Instead, he looked at you with his face all blank, up and down, before turning back to his class. “Pens down. Tomorrow we’ll talk about the Trojan C-“

Then, you had it in you to take the pencil out from your hair, letting it drop and flow down to your back. It was a curled, beautiful mess. And you didn’t straighten it out. Instead, you let it rest over your shoulders and looked straight at Jason with the most subtle smirk.

And your lips had that pout, from a habit he’d noticed when you’d instinctively lick over your teeth. Your lips were what he stared at the most.

As did practically the whole room. They weren’t even waiting for Jason to finish his sentence and pick his mouth back up from the fucking floor.

His stutter made you narrow your eyes, lean over your desk, and take note of his behavior.

-----

You tried to at least hold back your smirk when you heard the knocking on your office door. The same three knocks he used to silence his class.

“Come in.”

Jason stepped in, his laptop bag over his shoulder.

You stopped what you were doing and placed your pen into your holder.

“Mr. Todd-”

“Don’t give me that,” Jason said, rolling his eyes.

You let out a breathy chuckle, spinning in your chair as you leaned back. He looked mad. And insanely hot. Never mind being in a teacher’s suit that was all brown and boring. He looked good in anything. Jason set his bag down, pulled down the blinds of your windows, then walked over to the other side of your desk with a glare that sent you in painfully delicious shivers.

His hands on your desk, he leaned over to you. “That wasn’t funny.”

“That was hilarious.”

“I’ll get fired.”

“Relax. I gave you a perfect score,” you placed your elbows on the table and looked up at him, feeling his breathy growl so near to your lips.

His breath uneven, you reached out to hold his tie, twisting it around your fingers.

“The students are gonna know something’s going on between us. They all had fucking hard-ons in class.”

“And you didn’t?”

Your eyes darted over his lips, then at his crotch. You smiled.

“You are so dead when I observe you tomorrow.”

“Then it’s HR’s fault for letting two professors secretly sleeping with each other have a say on their job performance.”

“It is,” he smirked.

“What are you gonna do? Parade into my class with your shirt off?”

“No, but it’s never been that hard to make you soaking wet for me.”

You pulled on his tie and he hungrily devoured your lips like he’d been long wanting to do that the whole day. You stood up, pushing the chair behind you, then Jason violently cleared out your desk with a strong swipe of his arm, pulling on your waist to let you sit on the table.

“Did you-” you said between kisses. “-lock the door?”

“Mhm.” The table squeaked when he pulled you even closer, letting your legs swing over the edge of the table. His hands were all over your thighs, squeezing and kneading them to tease your pussy. You helped him take off his suit jacket, then you pulled on his dress shirt up from being tucked into his pants so your palms could snake up his abs. Jason tore your shirt open, letting the buttons pop and fall to the ground.

Gasping, Jason started kissing down your breasts and you let him ride your skirt up to your waist. He pulled you closer, and you spread your legs wide open for him to get comfortable between them. Teasing the tip of your heeled shoe against his back, you moaned when he grinded against you.

You weren’t wearing any panties. For fuck’s sake Jason looked like he wanted to murder you after fucking you so violently. “I can’t believe you.”

“Shh,” you gripped on his hair, so tightly it made him wince. Glaring at you, he took your hand off and started to pull his tie off from his neck.

“You don’t get to do anything.”

Gulping, he took a moment to watch your chest heave before taking both your hands, letting his rough finger graze across your wrists. Then you almost came right at that moment when he pulled your arms behind your back, turning you around, then tied your wrists together with his tie.

You could feel your wetness drench the table.

“Get on your knees.”

You did. And you kept looking up at him while he unbuckled his belt and let his awfully hard cock spring out of his pants. “Has that been wanting to see me for the last hour?” you said.

Without an answer, Jason held the side of your face, taking in the sight of you so flawlessly perfect in front of him. He grazed his thumb against your red lips and groaned. “I’ve been wanting these lips around my cock since you walked into the damn room.”

When he started gripping your hair, he pulled you to him and his cock sunk deep into your mouth, past towards your throat which instantly made you gag. It was hot, almost a blur, but Jason kept holding you still until he heard you whimper around his dick. “Hmm?”

Your eyes locked onto him, you let your tongue play with his load inside you, swirling and teasing with your drool trailing down your mouth. He shut his eyes and moaned way too loud. Pulling your head back and forth, you hallowed your mouth the best you can and stared up at him.

“Fuck…” he gasped. “You have no idea how hot you look right now.”

He didn’t give you a chance to answer and pulled his cock deep into your throat to watch you gag.

Pulling your head back just to breathe, he let go of your hair and let you suck him off at the pace you wanted. You couldn’t use your hands, so you did what you could with your lips, your tongue, your teeth so lightly grazing the tip, watching his reactions. His finger brushed against your cheek, and you pulled away to look up at him with your drool dripping down your chin.

You absolutely loved watching him squirm while you sucked his dick. The way he pulls on his own hair, trails his hand down his abs, he watched you with his mouth parted and let his dark hair flow down to his eyes. You licked his tip, sucked it like you would with a lollipop and let your tongue go crazy with the slit at the tip. He bit on his hand, still keeping his eyes on you, then you forced it down the back of your throat the best you can and choked yourself.

“That’s it,” he said. Smoothing your hair over with his hand. You pulled back to look at him, and he put his thumb into your mouth, pulling it off with a loud pop before letting you have it with his cock again. You could tell he held back his cum. He looked like he was just about to internally explode.

You stood back up, kissing him so he could taste himself from you. Jason didn’t wait another moment to forcibly turn you around, then he bent you over the desk to let the cold, breezing air hit your throbbing cunt.

With your hands still tied, you let him hold onto your waist, bruising them with his strong hands, then you hit the table’s surface with your forehead when he started fucking the living daylights out of you. “Oh!” you squealed, but you bit your lips before you could scream anything else. The thrill of getting caught, it was one of the reasons why your relationship with Jason was so hot.

You don’t think he’s ever been this hard before, like it was throbbing and hurting so much that any touch was possibly going to make him cum. Still, he had it in him to hold it back, but a pull on your hair made you wince at the pain, then he pounded into you so skillfully fast, you could only stare at the wall with your tears leaking out of your eyes. It was definitely a blur now. The buzz, the sensation, his moans, you came much too early despite all your forces doing everything to hold it back. But you couldn’t, and with him still pounding relentlessly, you were a twitching mess so sensitive to the core.

The pain was so beautifully mixed with the orgasm, which trailed on and on the more he fucked you. Fuck, the orgasm probably lasted longer than the build up. But with your mouth so wipe open, screaming whatever profanity you knew in your head, Jason kept going until another coil in your stomach built up, and you exploded.

Jason didn’t last any longer. Spilling his hot cum inside you, he hesitated to slow down, wincing at his own sensitivity. You were panting, sweating off your skin, and you laid bent down over the table even with him already zipping up his pants, taking his tie off from your hands.

You pulled yourself up and stretched your skirt back down to cover your cum-covered thighs, still in a daze. You turned around, wrapped your arms around him and kissed him gently, much softer than just a moment ago.

“That ended way too quickly,” he said, his hands on your waist.

“Why don’t you come over tonight and we’ll make it last for all the way until dawn-“

“We should probably go to a hotel,” he smirked. “Can’t risk getting caught in that fucking teacher’s dorm.”

“I’ll book us a night.”

Winking at you, he slapped your ass before pulling away and walking out the door.

  Taglist: everyartistwas-firstanamateur  @sarcasmismyfirstlove @damned-queen-of-gotham @idkmanicantenglish @wunderstell @birdy-bat-riya @get-loki@everyday-imfangirling @comic-nerd-dc @multifandoms916 @icequeen208@offendedfishnoises @egdolan @xemiefx @arkhamtoddler @elsenthal@mythicbitchx @supremehaunter @ burning-alive  @lucy-roo  roseangel013bf @ loxbbg  reclusive-chicken-nuggethttp-cherries shadowsndaisiesriver9noble zphilophobiazannoylinglyaries

[iworshipkeanureeves]

Hands Behind Your Back (Jack Traven x Reader)

A/N: This was requested by lovely @babayagakeanu​, I hope you enjoy :)

Summary: You tease Jack while he’s at work and he comes home to teach you a lesson.

Warnings: smut, handcuffs

Words: 1,6k

(x)

Spending your days alone during the lockdown was beginning to feel increasingly tedious. It was fine for the first week as you were enjoying some personal time, but more than a month in, everything started driving you crazy. Boredom would sometimes bring you silly ideas and one of them was to text Jack while he’s at work.

It was something you usually avoided doing, because you didn’t want to interrupt him. But ever since the lock down started, you wouldn’t even meet him in the mornings, as he was always leaving before you could wake up. You were really missing him and with all this spare time, it felt like you were seeing him even less. Curling up on a couch you composed a cute text:

- Thinking about you <3

Not expecting him to reply soon, you got up to get yourself a popsicle and turned the tv on. Surprisingly, the notification immediately popped up

-Awww, me too. How are things at home?

You could have just say fine, but maybe it was time to show him that you were actually missing him during this time.

-The SAME. Same as yesterday, and the day before.  I’m going crazy, the days are so loooong without you :( When will you be back?

- I don’t know yet, I’m going on a quick raid now, nothing to worry about. I can’t wait to see you tonight.

You were eager to see him too. Just the thought of things you would do, once he was home… Ahhh, it was killing you.

Turning the front camera on, you stuck the popsicle in your mouth surrounding it with your sultry lips. Your generous cleavage got in the frame too, as you were pushing your elbows closer, to give him a teasing view. After hitting send, you added:

- Then here’s a preview, hun.

It didn’t take Jack long to answer after receiving your naughty picture.

-God, you’re distracting me with that pretty little mouth of yours.

-Oh yeah? That mouth can be at your service once you get home, officer.

Funny, how your idea was to tease him, but you ended teasing yourself. You would have done anything to have his cock inside your mouth, not that stupid popsicle, but all you could do was wait.

- Please babe, I can’t go in with a hard on, let’s leave it for later.

You probably shouldn’t have distracted Jack while he was going on a mission, but isolation had gotten under your skin, so continued tormenting him.

-But I’m horny NOW.

Sliding down the straps of your camisole, you uncovered your breast and pinched you nipples a few times making them hard for another photo, sending it right away.

-Fuuck babe, how am I supposed to do my job NOW?

-Take this as your motivation to get in and out quickly, while I’m still in the mood. Here’s the final one for good luck. Take care. And be home soon.

You took the final picture with the tip of a popsicle rubbing on your nipple, sticky juices melting into your soft skin. God, you were desperate to get off by yourself, but it was worth waiting for Jack to get home, as nothing could compare to him fucking you.

------

Getting on with your day, you were finishing the dishes, staring through the kitchen window and dreaming about Jack coming home.

After placing the final cup on the rack, you gasped as you felt your arms being grabbed from behind, and in a swift motion they ended up handcuffed behind your back.

“Miss, you’ve been obstructing governmental administration with your indecent acts today,” Jack chuckled against your ear, and you began to feel your arousal kicking in.

“Are you going to punish me, officer?” you exhaled a sweet moan playing along, feeling his fingers running up against you thigh. Cupping your ass with his huge palm, Jack managed to tuck his fingertips inside the waistband and slid your shorts down, pressing you firmly onto the counter with his other hand.

“What a fucking tease.” A stingy slap landed on your ass, making you whimper, while Jack was continuing to knead your cheek, dissipating the sharp pain. He was being rough, but the reflection on the kitchen widow gave his cheeky smile away. That bastard was enjoying this so fucking much.

“So, I was promised some serviced today, wasn’t I?” Jack tuned you around trying to act serious, as his palms were pressing down your shoulders. You were craving to just unbuckle his belt and take him in, but your hands were behind your back, so all you could do was kneel obediently and wait for his further instructions.

Gazing into your eyes, Jack pulled his pants down allowing his member to spring right in front of your face and you stretched your tongue trying to catch him, unsuccessfully. For a couple of seconds, he enjoyed the sight of you chasing after his cock, before slowly guiding it inside your mouth with his steady hand.

You were completely at his mercy, having your hands tied behind your back, while Jack was gradually deepening his thrust, invading your mellow mouth. “Bad girls don’t get to touch themselves,” Jack sneered, seeing you desperately trying to rub your thighs out of frustration being unable to use your hands. You felt so empty, wishing for something to fill in the space in between your legs.

“Oh fuck, you can take a lot,” he groaned tangling his hands in your hair to guide you, while you were bobbing your head to meet his intensifying thrusts, feeling him at the back of your throat. His pulsating veins brushing against you inner cheeks as you were sucking on him eagerly.

“I love when you make a mess,” Jack smirked wiping up the drool that was dripping down your chin. “But it’s my turn now.”  He drew his girth away, and you were finally able to take a deep breath.

Seeing your struggle to balance yourself, Jack carefully helped you up, then grabbed you by the cuffs and pinned you down to the table pulling your soaked panties below your knees. You only heard him kneel behind you, when the next thing you felt was your cheeks being spread, and Jack burying his face inside your throbbing cunt.  

Jack gave you one painfully slow lick, making you let go a whiny cry, before he started forcefully lapping your clit, soaking all your juices in and sending waves of pleasure all over your shivering body. His tongue was rolling around your swollen nub, allowing him to enjoy delicious sounds emerging from your needy throat as you where whimpering at every move his skillful mouth made.

“Jack, please, please,” you whined, rolling on a hardwood table, as he was mightily working inside your watering slit, bringing you so incredibly close.

But then, once Jack felt your muscles beginning to tighten, he immediately withdrew leaving a smack on your ass and standing up behind you. “Not so quick, vixen,” he whispered leaning over your ear, nibbling on it. “I have to make sure you learn your lesson.”

Jack ran his hand through your drenched folds covering his cock in your slickness, before he pushed it straight into your aching pussy. No adjustment was needed as your throbbing walls were practically engulfing him all in naturally.

Showing no mercy, Jack was ramming into you, splitting your pussy in half as you were enjoying the weight of him pressing you down and him panting against your ear. “Does it feel good?” he grunted.

“Mhmmm,” all you could give him was a sloppy whine, relishing the way his cock was stretching your greedy pussy, burrowing till he reached your perfect spot.

Handcuffs meant that your top had to say on, but it didn’t stopped Jack from tightly squeezing your breasts and toying with your nipples as he kept on vigorously pounding into you, bringing you on the verge of your climax.

“Jack, I-I’m begging you…” a moan left your throat as you shut your eyes, ready to meet your high, feeling his member at the back of your core. Jack’s hand came to pull on your hair, arching you backwards as he shove into you one last time before you turned into a whimpering mess, clenching around his stiff member, which remained pounding you through your extremely overpowering orgasm.

Truthfully, Jack only let you cum because he couldn’t hold it for any longer, coming hard right after you, coating your walls and draining every last drop into your beating cunt. “Oh fuck, you feel so good,” he panted, sweeping your hair to the side, placing a wet kiss on your neck, bringing shivers down your back.

After sloppily pulling out, Jack slowly walked over to the fridge, taking a soda can out. Judging from his face, it seemed like he wasn’t done punishing you.

“Umm, Jack? Aren’t you forgetting anything?” you were still flat on the table, having your panties hanging midst your legs and your hands cuffed behind your back.

Jack glanced at you, stretching his arm to grab another can and was handing it to you “Here, take it”. Except you couldn’t, and he knew it well. “Oh right, you can’t,” he smirked and acted all surprised, but once he saw your eyes getting a little mad, he chuckled and got back behind you.

Uncuffing your wrists, Jack turned you around, bringing you up to sit on the table. “So, what did we learn today, miss?” He kissed your lips softly.

“Teasing you while you’re at work, means I get to cum once you’re home,” you winked at him with your devilish grin.

“Oh God, that wasn’t…” Jack rolled his eyes as if he wasn’t actually enjoying this. You jumped off the table and smacked his bare ass, grabbing him by the hand and dragged him after you.

[poeticandors]

Come What May Part 4

Poe Dameron x F!Reader

Summary: You and Poe are sent undercover in order to gain information about the First Order and hope to recruit. But what begins to bloom as you and Poe continue to work closer throughout this mission? And, what happens when you happen to catch the eye of one of the most dangerous men?

Warnings: none really? Besides Poe wanting to beat a bitch up but that is really it.

A/N: It’s finally here! Thanks for being patient, I had to listen to both Moulin Rouge soundtracks to get some inspiration but I mainly did it to sing out loud to Onyx who seemed entertained.

GIF by @vakariaan

It was times like these when Poe wished he was back at the Resistance Base— where he could escape to his X-Wing with BB-8 and just fly amongst the stars, basking in the silence and the seemingly, never ending freedom that space had to offer. He loved just looking down, seeing the way the land and water made up the planet. It was always where he felt the most sane. At least there, it was the closest to knowing what peace could feel like even in the midst of the war.

Here, he was stuck between the same walls, constantly walking the same path throughout the club, seeing the same patrons, and trying to get whatever information he could either about the other workers or whatever drunk First Order officers would loudly spill along with their drinks usually.

He missed flying.

He missed his friends.

But at least he wasn’t alone in this. He still had you.

Poe had always been fond of you since the moment he met you. Your hard work and determination towards the Resistance inspired him, but your kindness and willingness to help others is what caught his eye. That’s why he had become so protective of you.

Sure, you were pretty badass already even without him being there— he still can’t help but think of the way you stood your ground and nearly snapped that man’s wrist in half when he laid his hand on you. And don’t get him started on how he would glance over at you when you took down your sparring opponent in the training room before all this was going on. Poe knew that you were able to hold your own physically, but Poe couldn’t risk anything happening to you.

That’s why he currently stands there, glowering at the way you laugh at something that Tyris Prick— sorry, Pic— says. Poe forced himself to look away.

Since being introduced to him, he started coming to the club more frequently. He always requested to see you, and Poe would watch miserably as you talked, laughed, and shared one or two drinks with him. Something about this guy did not settle right with Poe. He especially did not like the way he was looking at you right now.

When Poe asked Finn about any information on the guy, he said that he would look into it. He also noted that the name did sound familiar. Poe just wished he was able to hear back from him soon.

After checking his regular posts, Poe decides to glance back only to find that you and Tyris were nowhere to be found.

He is way more alert now— never had you taken off without at least waiting to give him a signal or even telling him straight up. And the fact that Tyris wasn’t there, either only made him feel more on edge.

Before Poe can move from his post in search of you, Jeza steps in front of him, placing her hand on his chest.

“You look a little lonely, handsome. Care for some company? I don’t charge much,” she smirks.

Poe sighs, grabbing her hand and pulling it off of him. “Not now, Jeza. I have to find Kyla—“

“Oh, please. I’m much more fun than she is, and I can actually play with you.”

Poe was getting agitated, this wasn’t the first time Jeza made advances towards him. Whether she was joking or not, he did not enjoy having to deal with her. Sure, others would offer fun nights and good company that Poe would reject. Hell, there was even Tin, but Poe at least knew she was joking.

What made him resent Jeza even more was the way she often talked about you. It was no secret there were a few girls who threw glares at you daily just because their customers would drool at the sight of you, but no one verbally claimed their dislike except for Jeza.

Poe only shakes his head and moves past her, in search of you.

Pushing past a group of patrons who are too busy watching the entertainment on stage, he nearly topples over a server droid. Poe displays a calm demeanor when in reality sirens are ringing in his ears. His senses block out his surroundings and he tries focusing them on locating you.

When he doesn’t spot you anywhere inside the club, he decides to check outside— very rarely do the girls leave the club during business hours, but they were still allowed to leave whenever. He glances to the window, and manages to spot a glimpse of you walking past it with Tyris.

The patience Poe had now snapped like a twig and he rushed outside. Just as you laugh at something Tyris says, Poe steps in front of you both.

“Tel—“

“You’re not supposed to leave without telling me, Kyla.” Poe says, his tone sharp.

Tyris knits his brows, almost in an amused way. “Sorry, who are you?”

“Tyris, this is Tel. He’s my escort.”

“Your escort? Well, as you can see she is in one piece. So if you’ll excuse us—“

At this point, everything happens in an instant. Poe grabs Tyris by his collar, and despite how much shorter he is, he manages to shove him up against the wall just slightly. Poe feels your hands on his arm, as you try to loosen his grip.

“Tel, stop.”

“I’m supposed to keep watch over you, Kyla. What if something happened?”

“We just went on a walk to get some fresh air. That’s it. Now let him go.”

Poe breathes sharply through his nose, still staring up at the man with an undisguised, furious look. In return, Tyris gives Poe a smug grin, one of those that clearly states he doesn't care simply because of his status. Poe had the sense to strangle him right then and there, but when he feels your hands squeeze his arm, he relents and releases Tyris.

Poe steps back, watching as Tyris smooths out his shirt. Poe feels your hands pull away as you step towards Tyris— and he doesn’t realize how much he misses the simple touch from you.

“Are you alright?”

“Fine, fine,” Tyris waves you off. “Your escort really takes his job seriously, doesn’t he?”

You force a thin smile. “He’s just very protective. Even when there’s no need to be.”

Shooting a glance at Poe, he looks down before clearing his throat.

“Forgive me, Ms. Tille. But I stand by my actions. Also, it’s actually time for you to retire to bed. You have an early morning, remember?”

You stare at Poe, and he knows you're pissed but he doesn’t care. He just wants to get you away from Tyris as quickly as possible. In response to Poe’s statement, you nod curtly, before turning to give Tyris an apologetic smile.

“Mr. Dara is right, Tyris. I do have an early morning and need to be well rested. Thank you for the evening walk.”

“Of course,” he takes your hand, kissing it. Poe refrains from rolling his eyes. “I shall see you soon.”

He then turns to Poe. “I’m assuming I’ll see more of you, Mr. Dara. Have a good night.”

Poe doesn’t respond, and only turns to follow you once you decide to head back inside. Poe stays behind you as you walk briskly to the elevator, and you don’t even say one word to him the entire ride up.

But as soon as the door to the bedroom closes, you face him and Poe is not prepared for the anger in your tone.

“What the kriff, Poe? Are you trying to blow our cover?”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“You can’t just go up to anyone and man handle them like that! Especially Mr. Pic!”

Poe scoffs, shaking his head as he places his hands on his hips. “I’m not sorry for what I did.”

“Poe—“

“There’s something about this guy, okay? I don’t know what it is, but he is not what he seems.”

“You’re being ridiculous. He’s been nothing but nice to me—“

“Please, I know you see how he acts to everyone that he thinks is below him. You saw how he looked down on me just for being a bodyguard.”

Your mouth gapes open, as if you’re trying to find something to reply with. Poe doesn’t give you the chance as he steps towards you.

“Just… trust me. There’s something going on. I’m going to find out—“

“Poe, please just stop.”

He says your name but you hold your hand up, stopping him.

“You can’t just jump to conclusions because you don’t like the guy.”

“But—“

“I’m serious, Poe. Just leave him alone, okay?” You say, clearly annoyed. ”We can’t blow our cover. We’ve been in this for a while now and what we got so far is working.”

You grab your robe, and Poe watches as you head to the refresher.

“Now, I’m going to shower and get ready to sleep. I’ll see you in the morning.”

You close the door behind you before Poe can retort, and he stands dumbfounded. Poe doesn’t know what the sickening feeling forming in his stomach and chest is, but he can’t stand it much longer. He leaves the room, and walks down the hallway out towards one of the balconies.

++++++

The cool, light breeze that brushes against Poe’s face is soothing, but the city air is nothing compared to the clean, brisk air of Ajan Kloss that he had grown accustomed to. Sure, the view was nice, but he could barely see the stars shining above. That’s what he truly missed, and it felt as if a part of him was empty without it. As he stares out to the city, seeing lights from buildings and speeders flying past, Poe can’t help but think of the argument.

How is it that you can’t see what he sees? That this guy is bad news and Poe has a feeling that soon his true intentions will be shown. Sure, the guy has done nothing but treat you decently, but the way Poe catches him staring at you every now and then gives him an uneasy feeling. Almost as if he was an Edan tiger and you were his next prey.

Poe didn’t like that one bit.

Sighing, Poe reaches into his pocket, and grabs a pack of cigarras. He stares down at them— he doesn’t even smoke but he figured that Tel would, which is why he carried them around seemingly for show. Poe turns one in the pack before he pulls it out, putting it between his lips as he searches for a lighter in his other pockets.

As the bitterness of the tabac hits his tongue while he finally finds the lighter and lights the cigarra, the door hisses open and Poe turns to see Rix, Tin, and Zoras walk out. Poe was relieved to see them, he at least got along with them and after Finn gave him some background information about them, he knew they were trustworthy.

Rix turned out to have one hell of a past. Though the quietest one, he is actually a master splicer and also managed to crack a few First Order codes and shut down some AT-AT walkers that were attacking the small town he was taking cover at. This put him really high on the First Order wanted list for sure, and he knew he had to go into hiding. That caught Poe by surprise for sure, considering how awkward and quiet the Rodian was.

Zoras had previously traveled around the galaxy, bouncing planet to planet to perform with the galactic circus she was a part of. Turns out, she was very talented: an acrobat, often showing off her agility and flexibility throughout shows. She was the star of the show, with her name and face plastered along every poster that was printed out. Although after an incident having to do with the First Order getting the circus disbanded caused them all to split, Zoras figured that being a featured dancer at the Crimson Club would be a way to lay low.

Tin, on the other hand, didn’t have much of a backstory. She had a way with words, Poe noticed— a natural pickpocket. And what better way to use those gifts than in the red-light district? Tin regularly conned her usual customers into paying more than what is usually offered for doing much less. Hell, if Poe didn’t know better he probably would have fallen for many of her tricks like the others did.

Each one of them had their talents, and Poe realized just how advantageous they would help make the Resistance against the First Order.

“Well, that’s a nasty habit, isn’t it Tel?” Zoras nods at the cigarra.

Poe sighs, before he pulls it out of his mouth and flicks it over the edge.

“Something on your mind, handsome?” Tin asks, leaning up against the railing of the balcony. “This wouldn’t have to do with our girl, Kyla, now would it?”

“What makes you think that?”

“Well, considering the way your jaw twitched at the mention of her name and the lack of eye contact, I would say it does have something to do with her.”

Poe really needed to work on his facial and body movements, he realizes.

“Let me ask you guys something,” he turns, now facing the three of them. “What do you think of that Tyris Pic?”

“I don’t think about him at all,” Rix states bluntly. Poe scoffs a laugh, patting his shoulder.

“He’s handsome, though, gives you a run for your money,” Tin jokes, nudging Poe with her elbow.

“Why are you asking?” Zoras tilts her head.

“Isn’t it obvious? Tel here is tired of sharing The Sparkling Kyber with him.”

“No, that’s not it,” Poe quickly denies.

“Oh, then what is it?”

“There’s something sketchy about this guy. I can’t figure it out yet, but he’s bad news.”

The three glance at one another, clearly skeptical at his statement. Part of him doesn’t blame them, of course he sounds ridiculous when there isn’t any given proof yet. Zoras is the first to speak, crossing her arms as she steps forward.

“Tel, are you sure this isn’t about something else?”

“Like what?”

“That you’re jealous of Mr. Pic,” Rix says, simply. Poe is quick to face Rix, who only shrugs. “Just saying.”

“I’m not jealous—“

“You know what this reminds me of?” Rix intercedes, raising a scaled green finger. “Auren and Lorn.”

“Oh my stars, right! I forgot about them.” Tin pushes off the railing of the balcony. “Didn’t they head somewhere together?”

“Who are Auren and Lorn?” Poe asks.

“Auren used to be a dancer here. And Lorn was one of her regular clients. But he wasn’t just that.”

“They were in love. Auren used to give him private dances, and then slowly stopped giving her other usuals dances as well,” Zoras sighs. “It was plainly obvious to everyone.”

“One of her other, more high ranking customers turned out to be a General for the First Order. He wasn’t too happy about it, and threatened the two of them and Boz.”

“But then they took off. Just disappeared one night. Everyone says that they skipped the planet to be together, but others say that the First Order grabbed them before they could.”

Everyone stays quiet after that. Whether or not the latter happened, the fact that the First Order was involved sent chills throughout Poe’s body. It just seems that you both can’t get away from them.

“You may not see it, but we do, Tel,” Zoras says. “We see how protective the escorts are, but you can be on a whole different level when it comes to Kyla.”

“I told you to dial it down,” Tin sings.

“There’s nothing to dial down,” Poe huffs, slightly annoyed. “I’m just doing my job.”

“And taking it more seriously than others would. Plus, you look at her differently.”

Poe wants to deny it, he really does. Deep down, something is keeping him from doing so, but he doesn’t know exactly what that is.

So he only shakes his head, not even sparing a glance at his three friends— which Poe realizes is the first time he’s actually thought of them as friends.

“I’m going to bed, I’ll see you guys down at the club tomorrow.”

He doesn’t give them a chance to say anything, because he just has to get out of there as quickly as he can.

Poe doesn’t know why everything Rix, Zoras, and Ton said to him affects him in such a way. Sure, he is very protective of you— okay, maybe he can be a little too overbearing. But that’s because he doesn’t want you to get hurt or in any type of trouble.

But… what if it is something more? Or is it just the fact that you’re the only familiar thing in his life at this moment? Were Rix, Zoras, and Tin right?

Then he realizes… shit, they are right.

Because every night since before the mission even started, he felt this tug towards you. He always had to make sure you were okay, that you had eaten or were prepared for everything. He always glanced over at you in case you decided you needed him and he would quickly drop whatever he was doing just to help you. You became his first priority.

Not to mention how he often thought about you even if you were right next to him— how he loved hearing your laugh or seeing you smile, the smell of the perfume you wore slowly became his favorite scent. And it wasn’t just his thoughts, you also invaded his dreams. They started off as just simple dreams, but then over time since he’d gotten to know you, they became something… more. And he often scolded himself for it because he shouldn’t think of you in those ways. You were his partner and he knew there were boundaries set.

As Poe continues down the hall, he finds himself automatically in front of your door. He should apologize, right? For almost putting you guys at risk? Although he doesn’t regret shoving Mr. Prick up against the wall, he knows it made you upset. And since you’re all he has in this moment, he can’t risk something like this getting in between you both.

He stares at your door, and though he lifts his hand up, he doesn’t move it an inch closer. He was sure you were asleep by now— it was late, and you had been spending your nights with Tyris. This was probably the earliest you got to bed this week.

Poe doesn’t want to ruin whatever sweet dreams you are having. He knows he should apologize, but your well-being right now is important. With a heavy sigh and guilt-bearing weight in his chest, he turns away to go to his own room.

When he dreams that night, it’s filled with the wonderful sound of your laughter and the beautiful sight of your smile— at something he said and not Tyris.

++++++

FIC TAGLIST: @tintinwrites @sheridans-dynamos @agoldpixie @shakespeareanwannabe @starkiller-queen @netflixandsnuggle @nowheredreamer @blackhawklove @jennibradley @rewritingstars @chewymoustachio @iamaunicorn4704 @spider-starry @roserrys @spectre-leader @loveisjustfortheweak @fandomqueenlove

[official-weasley]

The Irreplaceable Charlie Weasley: Pt. 2, Ch. 6

PART 2: THE YEAR OF MISCHIEF AND SNEAKING AROUND Chapter 6 - Transfiguration, My Love

Nova

While Charlie and I were still making out the final details of our plan, Tonks was proud to say that their vengeful plan against Filch was executed perfectly and surprisingly, almost went according to plan.

Besides a few minor details, such as the fact that Tulip couldn't find Peeves anywhere on the day of the prank as he decided to pull a little prank on them too when she went to find him the previous day. He thought it was funny if he hides and makes them nervous, thinking that he won't do a mess for Filch.

Also, Penny apparently isn't as innocent-looking to Filch as she is to Tonks. Just saying the Poltergeist's name, Filch suspected her of something and she needed full 15 minutes to convince him that she's not lying and that Peeves is making a mess on the Second Floor. He questioned her about where exactly on the Second Floor and what exactly is he doing.

Then, he wanted to send Mrs. Norris to investigate before leaving the vicinity of his office. And then he made her tell him the whole thing again just to see if there was a plot hole in her story.

When he finally left to go see what was going on, Tonks was so nervous that she failed to cast Alohamora twice before opening the office and thank Merlin that Penny took the box inside and placed it down as Tonks was so out of it by the time she unlocked Filch's Office that she knocked down the first thing standing in it. Not only did they have to put everything back in place, but they also had to be careful around the Dungbomb.

They locked his office and left unnoticed as they joined us for breakfast in the Great Hall. Tonks even went an extra mile by yawning and telling rather loudly, something she was good at, that she just woke up and couldn't believe she almost missed breakfast.

Even though Charlie and I weren't part of their plan we had fun as observers as it was very amusing just how nervous they were waiting to see if the plan was going to work. They, however, didn't have to wait long, as a Gryffindor First Year came to the teacher's table and whispered something to McGonagall, that whispered something to the Headmaster, who for a second looked like he was amused and then McGonagall, Snape, and Flitwick hurried out of the Great Hall.

A lot of students followed and as we didn't want to look suspicious we joined the crowd. To Tonks', Penny's, and Tulip's delight it led us straight to Filch's Office which was now surrounded with the same stench as the Dungeons a couple of days ago.

As we couldn't keep a straight face and Snape shot us some suspicious looks, we decided to go to the Courtyard and laugh it out there and congratulate them on their big success.

Charlie and I also decided to tell them about our plan. To our surprise, everyone was staying at Hogwarts for Christmas as they wanted to spend time with us as much as we wanted to spend time with them, which was one less problem for us to solve. Now we just had to convince Molly that Charlie can stay and perhaps if all of our friends would be with us, Bill wouldn't have to spend Christmas at Hogwarts if he doesn't want to. We'll see how it goes!

—

So far the classes are not as hard as I thought they would be. History of Magic is still boring and Snape still breathes behind our necks in Potions, other than that lessons are quite nice.

We finally started practical lessons in Defence Against the Dark Arts and I am very proud to say that Charlie and I are on top of the class. Charms are going fantastic, even though this new one, Episkey, was giving me some problems as I couldn't seem to get it 100% correctly.

I did talk it over with Professor Flitwick and he suggested for me to practice at the Hospital Wing with Madam Pomfrey and he reassured me that since other spells are going good for me that this one shouldn't be such a big problem.

Wanting to stay on top of my class in Charms, I went to Madam Pomfrey the very next day where she kindly presented me with a dummy on which I could practice. It took me 3 full days to cast the spell correctly and as Madam Pomfrey said, apparently I didn't put enough willpower into it and I was too frightened of the side effects the spell can bring once performed on a real person.

Charlie even offered to break his nose so that I could mend it but as much as I appreciated his braveness and generosity, I refused as I don't want to see any blood on those cute freckles of his.

Transfiguration was by far my favorite subject. Not only because I did so well but because I sat with Charlie. We always had so much fun and when we had to work in pairs we were a perfect match. Just last week we had to do a little project outside of class. At first, I thought that I would have to do everything on my own but I have to say that I have never seen Charlie work harder at something and it showed on the spell we had to imagine for two inanimate objects.

So much so that McGonagall gave 15 points to Gryffindor. He was never so proud of himself and he had all the right to be.

—

I woke up earlier than usual one day in the first week of December. I looked through the window to admire our beautiful view only to get a pleasant surprise of snow. Last year, the snow didn't fall until Christmas Eve and I was glad it was so early this year as I couldn't wait to have a snowball fight with all of my friends.

As Tulip was still sleeping I decided to take my books and go to the Great Hall to do my Potions homework. Of course, I was hoping that Penny was already there so that she could help me with it. Unfortunately, she was not but I decided that for once, I should at least try to do it on my own. Pip came to greet me, while I was eating toast and was halfway through my Potions essay, which was looking rather good.

He had a letter for me. It was from my mum and she was asking about my plans for Christmas as she was quite busy and wasn't very optimistic about her or dad getting time off. She just didn't want me to be alone and was wondering if she should write to Molly so that I could spend Christmas with the Weasleys. She ended her letter by making sure I say hello to all my friends.

As much as I appreciated that and hoped that one time during my Hogwarts years I would be able to spend Christmas at the Burrow I wanted to sneak into the Forbidden Forest with Charlie for this one. I wrote back to my mum immediately, Pip nibbling on my hair.

Mum,

All of my friends are staying at Hogwarts this year. Charlie isn't 100% sure yet but we all decided to stay as we couldn't spend Christmas together last year. Don't worry that you and dad have to work. I will send you presents on Christmas Eve, as I already have something prepared. And I think Tonks would be very disappointed if we couldn't have all the snowball fights since it started snowing today.

Say hi to dad when you send him an owl!

Love and lots of hugs,

Nova

I folded the piece of paper, put it in an envelope, and gave it to Pip. He was rather busy these past few weeks as both Tulip and Tonks asked if they could borrow him. Pip, of course, was delighted to do their bidding.

Tulip, Penny, and Tonks soon joined me for breakfast and not much to my surprise did I have to correct Tulip's Transfiguration homework as it happened almost every week that she left it until the very last day. I couldn't help but wonder if she was doing it on purpose.

After breakfast, Tulip and I headed to the Transfiguration classroom. I spotted my freckled, redhead best friend immediately. He was as sleepy as in every Thursday Transfiguration class as we had it what he called it 'too early in the morning'.

“Hi, Nova. How did you sleep?” He asked before he started snoozing on my shoulder.

“Not bad and good morning to you too, Mr. Messy Hair.” I giggled and ruffled his hair. I was beginning to see why Bill liked to do it so much. His hair was soft and thick and it always stood as you placed it. As you can imagine, Charlie had some weird hairdos whenever he was snoozing or napping while having breakfast with us.

Professor McGonagall walked into the classroom, shutting the door behind her rather loudly to announce her presence and the whole class went silent.

“Today, we are going to learn a new spell. We are going to transform this porcupine into a pincushion.” She pointed at the porcupine on her table with her wand. “Now, can anyone tell me why this spell could be useful?”

A Gryffindor girl with short brown hair raised her hand and answered the question. I nudged Charlie a little, as McGonagall was not giving him the nicest of looks. He raised his head and yawned.

“What did I miss?” He looked at me, hand still on his mouth. “You just lost Gryffindor 20 points.” I said with a serious expression on my face.

“What? No! What did I do wrong?” He looked at Professor McGonagall who was now at the back of the class and didn't pay any attention to him at all.

“You drooled all over my jumper.” I chuckled.

“She didn't really take points from my House, did she?” He rolled his eyes and poked me in my shoulder with his finger.

“You will each get a pincushion and a porcupine per table. I want you to take a good look at them both and observe the details on the pincushion and memorize them to most of your ability.”

“I don't understand, when will I ever have to transform a porcupine into a pin cushion while working with Dragons.” Charlie was turning the pincushion in his hand while supporting his head with the other one.

“You do realize we are only doing all of these spells to get us familiarized with Transfiguration and how it all works, right?” I chuckled and took the pincushion from his hand.

“Now, I want you to look at your porcupine, say Hystrifors, gently tap on the animal and envision a pincushion in your head.” McGonagall said.

“Yeah, because I have nothing better to think about.” Charlie pulled out his wand.

“You were wondering why we were taking a few lessons to befriend the animal. It is easier to cast the spell if the animate object trusts you. The better the relationship the easier the spell. That is why most new spells created for animate to inanimate transfiguration is usually practiced on pets.” She walked to her desk, looked at the porcupine with narrowed eyes, and said Hystrifors. It turned into a perfect pin cushion in a second.

I have to give it to Charlie as he didn't do such a bad job considering he was half asleep until 20 minutes ago. He managed to transform his porcupine into a pincushion. It wasn't perfect as the pins weren't real pins but porcupine spikes but it was pretty good for his first try.

Professor McGonagall came to our table. “5 points to Gryffindor, Mr. Weasley. Not bad for your first time.” She then turned to me as I was about to cast the spell.

I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, looked at the porcupine who already started to form into a pin cushion in my mind, and said Hystriforsas I gently tapped on the animal with my wand. It turned into a pincushion, all pins perfectly transformed as they have to be.

Charlie clapped and I looked at McGonagall who was smiling, observing my successful spellwork. A few seconds later the bell rang and I got up and put my books in my bag. I was ready to follow Charlie out of the classroom when McGonagall called for me.

“Miss Blackwood, a moment if I may.” I nodded to Charlie that he should go ahead.

“I'll wait outside.” He whispered.

“Yes, Professor McGonagall?” I turned to her and started walking towards her desk.

“Miss Blackwood, last year we started to discuss Advanced Transfiguration lessons. I don't know if you've noticed but I have been paying extra attention to you this year to see if your talent from last year continues.” Of course, I noticed, I was waiting for this conversation since 1st September!

“Are you still interested in Advanced Transfiguration?” She gave out a little smile.

“Of course, Professor. I would be honored.” I said humbly.

“That settles it then. I will send you an owl with your new schedule and we can begin after the Christmas holidays.” Her face content with my decision. “That would be all, Miss Blackwood.”

I thanked her again, nodded, and walked out of the classroom. As promised, Charlie was waiting for me outside and when he saw the look on my face, he knew exactly what McGonagall asked me to stay behind for.

[perseusjackson-jasongrace]

Empires on the Horizon I

Jason is a CEO: Part I

Here’s my masterlist for the next part and my other stuff

i fear it might break me

then break

break

let spirit crack you open

-a letter to the king

There was something almost sinister in the whiskey-induced haze of a Manhattan skyline. The buildings nothing but dark blocks, uneven stairs.

There was something lonely about the haze too.

But Jason Grace couldn't give two shits about the blackening playground of buildings, couldn't give two shits about the incredible view from his twenty-second story window, couldn't give two shits about anything except his whiskey bottle and the burn because today could only be described as hell. Worse than hell maybe.

His son of a bitch ex-boyfriend and his son of a bitch new girlfriend, well ex-girlfriend now, had decided to christen his office. The deal he'd been working on for months didn't get legal approval, which meant everything had to be redrafted. And on top of everything his sister called to tell him she’s setting him up on a date with a quote, unquote ‘lovely girl who seems just right for him.’ He wanted to slam his phone across the room, and he would have if he didn't believe she had the supernatural abilities to know when he was pissy.

The shrill ring of said phone interrupted his anger.

"Talk to me"

"Hello Grace, you sound like shit."

"I'd sound better if you didn't fucking call me, you ass."

A laugh echoed down the phone.

"What do you want Valdez?" A smile played at Jason's lips, despite his day.

"Just wanted to check in and see how you were doing," Leo Valdez sighed, "I heard what happened with bimbo and brainless today."

He winced, "I don't know if I want to burn my office or throw them in an unmarked swamp to swim with the crocs."

"We can do both." His friend replied, conviction lacing his words.

He chuckled darkly shaking his head, "I think I'm just gonna drown myself in the good stuff tonight. I'll face the world tomorrow."

"Okay, I've sent over a tub of your favourite ice-cream. Sorry I can't be there; The lady has been raving about this theatre show for months. I'll be dead if I bail now."

"No worries Firefly, thanks for the ice-cream. Let's meet tomorrow for dinner?"

"Sure bro. I'll book us at the Labyrinth."

"Great and bring your better half!"

A laugh was the only reply before the call ended.

Jason collapsed onto the couch, folding his body into the corner of the seat and taking a large swig from the whiskey. Every time his mind wandered to the horrors of the day he drank. It took a horrifyingly short time to see the bottom of the bottle. The world blurred and tilted, swayed like young trees fighting against the wind. Tears spilled hot and fresh down his cheeks- he didn’t bother to wipe them away. Today he was allowed to cry, today he was allowed to break. It was okay, okay...

“OKAY!” He yelled, trying to untangle his legs from the blanket and wipe the drool on his mouth.

The banging at the door started up again and he cursed a blue streak. With a growl he yanked the door open, “What?”

“Well good morning to you too Mr. Grace,” A cheery-faced Hazel Levesque greeted.

“Hazel,” He sighed “Hi, sorry I- come in,”

“Everything okay Boss?”

“Had a bit of a rough day yesterday, I’m sure I smell like the inside of a whiskey bottle,”

“Uh-I don’t know if I should say anything to that,”

“Good call, I might burst into tears if you do.”

She gave him a wide-eyed look but he waved a dismissive hand, picking up the pillows he had flung in rage and the bottle he had discarded just before he crashed on his couch.

“I’m going to go shower; I’ll update you over some breakfast.”

She gave him a long look before nodding and taking up a set at the kitchen counter. He thought about explaining or offering her something to drink but his soul was exhausted; at the very least he could help himself to a shower before he had to face the world.

The water scorched his back, his forehead pressed to the cool tile. He considered himself lucky for having eaten before he got drunk, otherwise he would have spent the morning with his head in a toilet bowl. His brain pounded against his skull but the alcohol was only half to blame; crying for two hours had its fair contribution.

“Okay you can do this. You’ve gotten through a lot of shit, you can get through this.” He stared himself down in his mirror, fixed the clasp on his watch and shouldered his suit jacket.

With a deep breath he stepped out of his room, his business face firmly in place.

“Shall we grab coffee at Reedpipes, you can update me on my schedule on the way.”

“Sounds good Boss let’s go,”

And within a matter of moments they were stepping into their favourite café. Flowers bloomed in the middle of every table and ivy wrapped around the industrial fixtures above them. A bright hello sounded from the barista’s station.

“Good Morning Grover,” He smiled, at the bearded man already frantically working on their orders.

“How’s it going? I haven’t seen you in a hot minute.” Warm eyes twinkled up at him. It took immense self-control not to burst into tears.

Grover, oblivious to his turmoil prattled on, “Hazel how’s the strawberry pot coming along? Did the compos-“

Jason zoned out, the world becoming a blur of sound and moving colours. His mind hurtled him back to yesterday when he had walked into his office– oh gods it hurt to think about. The evidence of them had been everywhere. Clothes strewn on the floor, his papers and trinkets thrown like a hurricane had swept through. And they had just grinned, like they were waiting, like they planned for it. His stomach flipped, ache and regret flooding him.

“Mr Grace!” A small hand shook his shoulders.

He startled back to the present, “Sorry, sorry.”

“It’s okay” Hazel gave him a weird look, “I’ve got our coffees let’s grab a seat.”

He nodded letting her lead them to a little wooden table in the corner of the shop. Sun was just starting to filter in, and the beams caught on the subtle gold accents rimming each table. Once they had settled in across from each other she handed him his cappuccino and took a long slurp of her iced coffee before setting her intimidating golden eyes on him.

“Spill Boss.”

He sighed, running a hand down his face.

“Yesterday I went back to my office after the meeting with Titan Industries, we need to do a redraft for that by the way,”

She nodded, already tapping on her phone to diarise an appointment with the legal team.

“So I get the office and Piper and Luke–“ He gulped, steeling himself, “They decided to use my office as their playground.”

He didn’t know how to put it delicately and little Hazel shouldn’t have to hear his real thoughts on the matter which mostly sounded like ‘fucking fucks, stupid dumbass wankers’ and various other curse words

“Oh Jason,” She gasped softly, reaching out a hand to squeeze his, “I am so sorry. Why are you even coming in to work today? You should have taken the day to yourself.”

“I still have a business to run Hazel, and besides I can’t let their selfishness stop me.”

“You are allowed to be hurt Jason.”

“I know, I know. But I can be hurt this weekend, right now we need to redraft that stupid contract and I need to make some calls about the new buildings starting this week,”

“Right will add that, don’t forget we need to get your suit for the alumni dinner on Friday,”

“Ugh I forgot about that, okay just pencil that in for some time today and maybe call Drew or Silena to find out if they can have a few ready for me to try on. Also I have dinner with Valdez tonight so no calls after six thirty.”

“You got it Boss, and hey­–“ She tugged at his sleeve making sure he looked at her, “If at any point you need to stop, you let me know. And if I see you neglecting yourself like you did last time, I will book a trip to the smallest island in the middle of the damn ocean and throw you on a plane myself,”

He laughed at his fiery assistant, and gave her a reassuring pat on the shoulder, “Yes ma’am.”

***

Jason’s day wasn’t going great, but it was at least fifty times better than yesterday. All his belongings had been moved to the floor above and his tainted office was being cleaned out. He didn’t know if he wanted to go back there ever again but maybe he could convert it into a room for his employees. At least they won’t be haunted by the events that occurred. His call with Miss Arellano had gone surprisingly well even if the drafting of this stupid Titan Industries project was proving to be a real pain in the ass. He didn’t even know if it was worth it to do this much readjusting.

“Hey boss,” Hazel knocked at his door, “Frank is here to take you to your suit appointment,”

“Damn is it already four?” He frowned at his watch, “Alright give me two minutes to finish this email and then I’ll be ready. You should go home for the day.”

She snorted, “Thanks, but I got some admin to catch up on. You mind if Frank comes back to drop me off at home afterwards though?”

“No problem, you know he would be happy to do it.”

And maybe if Jason hadn’t been so distracted, he would have caught the blush his assistant was trying so hard to stop.

“Right well, let me know if you pick out a suit or if I need to reschedule. Also Mr Valdez called to confirm your reservation at the Labyrinth for seven thirty.”

“Thank you,” He gave her a brief smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes before turning his attention back to his blinking cursor.

***

“Hello ladies,” He entered the open, marbled boutique that was Aphrodite’s Armour.

“Jason!” A sweet voice squealed, coming towards him for a hug.

“Hello Silena, how are you?”

“Much better now that my favourite customer is here,”

“Aww,” Another voice pouted, “I thought I was your favourite customer?”

“Babe you don’t count,” Silena laughed, booping her fiancé on the nose.

“Well if it makes you feel any better Drew, I know she’s lying because she says that to all the customers.”

Silena gasped, smacking his arm, “I DO not.”

“Yes you do hun,” Drew laughed, “You here for your suit Mr Grace?”

“Yea it’s for the alumni dinner at SPQR University this Friday,”

“Oh yes we’ve heard a lot about this dinner. We’ve had all manner of folks come in these last few days.” Silena nodded, already making her way to the back of the store.

“I’m sure. It’s the big charity dinner where they get all the ‘successful’ alumni together and then milk us for all we’re worth.” He shook his head with a smile.

“Ah you rich people can afford it,” Drew scoffed, smirking at him over her shoulder.

“Yes I do agree,” He nodded, “Where’s my favourite of you lot?”

“Oh Charlie isn’t in. It’s Wednesday so he has to go to his sites.”

“He’ll be sad he missed you though, I think he has some project he wants to pitch.”

“Tell him to give me a call, I’m always happy to talk business.”

“Yes, although I’m sure he’ll be much happier to get down to business with you,” Drew cackled.

“And how would his two fiancées feel about that?” He raised a blonde brow.

“Quite excited,” Silena bubbled, a glitter in her eyes.

Jason let out a real laugh for the first time all day, “Sorry darlings but I don’t think I’d be much fun right now.”

Drew gave him a kiss on the cheek “Well, we’ll be here when you do.”

“Much appreciated,” He grinned.

“Okay, I think I have the perfect one!” Silena moved from behind the racks shoving a black bag into his hands, “Go try it on.”

He stumbled into the changing room and pulled out a gorgeous maroon suit. The lining was a deep blue and the detailing on the seams matched it perfectly. He knew immediately this would be a favourite of his and got confirmation when two minutes later he stepped out to gasps and applause.

“Mr Grace,” Drew’s eyes were wide.

“This is the best one yet,” Silena sighed, assessing him.

“Thank you ladies, it really is beautiful.”

“I think the wearer may be more so,” A low voice from behind them said.

Jason’s head shot up only for his gaze to land on the most exquisite person he had ever had the privilege of laying his eyes on. The beautiful stranger stood with their hands tucked in their pocket and an appreciative look on their face.

“Oh Mr Jackson we didn’t think you’d be here so early.” Silena jumped into action, ushering him through the door and out of site.

Jason was standing stock-still unable to get the image of sparkling green eyes and molten brown skin out of his head.

“Who was that?” He breathed.

Drew was pulling at his suit, synching it and marking the fabric with needles.

“Oh that was Mr Jackson, he comes in here fairly often too. It’s a wonder you haven’t met before, I’m sure you run around the same social circles, what with your fancy parties and all that,” She was mumbling around a mouth full of measuring tape.

“I’ve never seen him before in my life. Trust me I would remember a face like that.”

That got the seamstress’ attention, “Oh someone has a crush,”

“How could you not? We did see the same person, right? Tall, wonderful curly black hair, unbelievable sea green eyes, a voice like crashing waves and earth and-“

He was cut off by her laughing.

“What?” He frowned.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone fall so hard from a five second interaction.”

He blushed, looking away from her all-knowing gaze, “I’m just saying what I saw.”

“Well I’m pretty sure he’s going to the dinner on Friday so maybe you can talk to him there.”

‘He’s what?” He whipped around to look at her, eyes comically wide.

“Yea, he was telling us all about it when he came in earlier this week.”

“Oh gods, oh gods, oh gods, oh gods,” He muttered, heart racing.

“Oh don’t panic, he’s honestly one of the nicest guys you’ll ever meet.” She shrugged before pulling at his arm to take the measurement, “Alright, all set to go. You can pick up the suit tomorrow afternoon or we can send it tomorrow evening?’

“Uh yea, send it.” He said distractedly, already pulling on his clothes.

Drew gave him a cheeky smile, “Goodbye Mr Grace,”

“Bye Drew, tell Silena I said bye, and tell Charlie to call me.”

He stepped into the entrance of the shop, but the beautiful man was nowhere to be found. With a final glance around he made his way into the street, ready for dinner with his friends.

“Hello Grace, glad to see you haven’t gone full hermit,”

“Hello Leo,” He snorted, “It was the ice-cream you sent last night. It gave me hope.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” His friend laughed, “How are you though, seriously?”

“I’ve seen better days, but I’ve seen worse too. I’ll get over it.”

“There is no doubt in my mind Jason Grace,” A soft reassurance floated towards them.

He smiled, pushing out of his seat, “Hello Annabeth,” He enveloped her in a hug.

“Hello my darling,” She gave him a gentle smile.

He let her go and she moved around him to give Leo a quick peck. He smiled at her with overflowing adoration and muttered a soft, “Hello love,”

“Tell us what happened?” She sat down next to her boyfriend and reached out to squeeze Jason’s hand.

So he took a deep breath and relayed the story of his nightmare yesterday. By the time he was finished the couple looked like they were ready to storm the castle and beat Luke and Piper with sledgehammers and drawing compasses.

Annabeth’s grey eyes were hard and stormy with anger, “I’m going to kill them,”

“Don’t worry babe I’m there to help.” Leo said vehemently.

Jason couldn’t help but smile at the protectiveness of his friends, “Thank you guys but I’m fine. Really.”

They gave him a dubious look, their expressions so similar it was comical. He gave them another, hopefully, reassuring smile before they launched into a discussion about work.

Both were engineers with too many degrees to count and an abundance of knowledge circling between them. It was almost scary how exquisitely their minds worked. Jason had recruited them time again for his projects– from designing the education center to building the water systems and electricity grids in the downtown area. His work helping small businesses and improving ‘run-down’ neighbourhoods would be a thousand times harder if he didn’t have them to help him in design and implementation. Annabeth, as the civil engineer, often went to sites with him and over saw a fair few of his community projects. Leo was a mechanical engineering professor at the university they all attended but he was always willing to help if need be. Jason was eternally grateful for that because he didn’t trust many others to oversee his works.

When dessert had been cleared away sometime later the three were laughing and ribbing each other like they were back in college and not big-time owners of various companies.

“Okay, okay,” Leo gasped, “No more of your stories man. Annabeth doesn’t need to know all my secrets.”

The lady in question snorted, digging her elbow into his side, “You wish you had secrets. If you can’t recall I was there for ninety percent of your dumbassery in varsity and I’m here for one hundred percent of it now.”

“You don’t know what happened on our guys nights,” Leo narrowed his cassiterite eyes at her.

“Keep telling yourself that honey,” She smirked.

Jason watched on in amusement as Leo’s face morphed into panic.

“Tell me she’s lying Grace?”

Annabeth’s smirk was wicked, “Oh yes Valdez I know about the ‘pants on fire’ situation, and the ‘jumped off a Ferris wheel situation’ and the–“

“Okay stop. How did you ever choose to date me knowing all these things?” He looked at her with some mixture of horror and wonder.

She shrugged, “I figured if you were smart enough to get a PhD and a Masters you were smart enough to know when I’ll kill you for doing something stupid.”

Jason burst out laughing, “She may be taking your space at the top of my favourite’s list Firefly.”

His friend gave him a look of disgust, “That’s just rude, we’ll see who takes your phone away next time you’re drunk on vodka,”

They all dissolved into fits of giggles after that and Jason felt his heart grow a hundred times lighter.

“Are you guys going to the dinner?”

Annabeth nodded, “I heard the university has a proposition for us this year.”

“I’m mostly excited for the mini tacos,” Leo grinned.

“You’re always excited for the tacos,” She rolled her eyes playfully.

“I can’t help it, there’s just something about them, you know?”

Jason couldn’t help but agree. They really were delicious.

“I guess I’ll see you guys there.”

“You can count on it,” Annabeth gave another of her dazzling smiles, reaching forward to rest a hand on his arm.

“And don’t worry bro I know for a fact Luke isn’t going to be there.”

“Yea I know,” He sighed, “I asked Hazel to check this morning.” They stepped into the chilly night.

“Call us if you need anything,” Leo gave him a look before pulling him in for a hug. Annabeth echoed the sentiment and gave him a kiss on the cheek. 

He watched them walk towards their car, fingers intertwined, Annabeth’s blonde curls resting against Leo’s shoulder. A flutter of ache washed through him at their closeness, their easiness. He had had that once. Until Luke had gotten greedy with his ambition. And he may have had that with Piper if she hadn’t decided to screw his ex.

His life was a mess.

Yet when he crashed into bed that night he felt more hopeful and loved than he had in a long time. He slipped into sleep with a soft smile playing on his lips.

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

Okay what are we saying? How do we feel? GIVE ME THOUGHTS!

Tags (if you want to be added to/ taken off the tag list just let me know, all my channels of communication are open):

@lesbian-peanuts​ @leydiangelo​​ @queen-of-demons-and-hell​ @msdrpreist​ @sparkythunderstorm​ @nishlicious-01​

[2manyfandoms2count]

AU Yeah August Day 13

Here’s another AU for @auyeahaugust! Will it evolve into a fully-fledged story? Probably. Hope you’ll enjoy! xxx

---

Day 13: Flower Shop AU

Marinette stared at the blank page in front of her, pensively tapping her pencil on her desk. She could have sworn that she’d found the perfect outfit to close her next fashion show as she was about to fall asleep the previous night. Something so spectacular, she knew she’d remember it in the morning.

Except morning had come, and still the design eluded her. She had raked her brain throughout breakfast, causing a couple of spills, during her commute to work, which had almost made her miss her stop, and ever since she’d sat down at her desk, three hours ago. The page just stared right back at her.

She sighed and dropped her pencil. Leaning her head on top of her hand, she took a look at her surroundings. She loved her office. She had furnished it in a way that let her creativity flow, and it did the trick - most of the time. The wide windows let the Spring sunshine in, the rays ricocheting against the smooth white surfaces of the cabinets, and the strategically placed mirrors. It made the room look larger, brighter. 

She had restrained what she considered to be her clutter to the right hand side of the room. A large cork board took up most of the wall space there, covered in overlapping swatches and sketches. On a low table below it were piles of fashion magazines, more or less old, that she kept for reviews or inspiration. A couple of picture frames also stood there, containing pictures of her parents and friends, and some good shots of herself at fashion shows.

Her eyes swept the room and landed on an intricate vase that sat opposite her. The cleaner, Mister Fu, always made a point to buy flowers for her office, and refused to put them on the company’s bill. It was his way of thanking her for keeping him on despite his old age. She’d never been able to tell exactly how old he was, but one thing was for sure: he was beyond French retiring age. He’d appeared seemingly out of nowhere when she’d established her brand, and worked around as the two-room office expanded into a three-room, a full floor, and now a whole building with Marinette Designs gaining more and more recognition in the fashion world. He cleaned, DIYed, decorated, and had a good eye for things that needed fixing, even if no one knew it yet. She’d come to consider his services as invaluable, especially the odd wisdom bits he provided every once in a while. She really could have done with his help today, maybe he could have helped her with the eluding dress. He’d taken the day off, though, and, if she judged by the wilting flowers that stood in front of her, had forgotten his self-appointed florist duties. Maybe that was what was blocking her flow.

She stood up and walked towards the vase, grabbed it, and made her way towards her office bin. It had been a wonderful bouquet, colourful and fragrant. The sweet smell of lilies remained as she picked them up and shook them gently above the vase, so as to get rid of as much water as she could before throwing them away. As she dropped them, a small card disentangled from the stems and landed next to the paper basket. Marinette crouched down and picked it up.

“The Cat’s fleowers.”She read, cringing at the bad pun. A little black cat holding a four-leafed clover sat under the flower shop's name, and above its address. 

She recognised the street as one she took every day, and the number as being between her metro station and the office, yet she couldn’t picture the shop. She shrugged, slid the card on her desk and walked back to her chair, plumping down in front of the taunting white page. 

Quarter of an hour of fidgeting, head scratching and deep sighing later, Marinette looked up again, having achieved nothing but weak sketches. The vase caught her eyes once again, its emptiness now bothering her. 

She glanced at her watch. Quarter to twelve. She’d be off for her lunch break soon, anyway. She grabbed her vest and handbag and left her office, giving a small wave at her secretary as she did so. 

She breathed in deeply and smiled contently as she exited the building, reveling in the warm sunshine that landed on her face. She dug out her butterfly sunglasses and walked down the street.

---

Adrien was bored. He usually never tired of working in Mr Fu’s flower shop, but today seemed like the exception. He’d met Mr Fu by chance one day as he came back from one of his modelling jobs, and had helped the old man carry large potted plants inside the premises. Adrien had fallen in love with the cool atmosphere and the plethora of flowers, which made him feel like he’d just stepped into a different corner of the world. He hadn’t hesitated when Mr Fu had asked him if he’d be interested in working there on the days he couldn’t come in. The fact he could wear a relaxed attire, rather than his usual smart dress, was a bonus. So far, no one had recognised him.

Although the shop was generally quite busy, it seemed like everyone had decided to shun flowers today. Not one customer had pushed the door to his little botanical heaven. Even Plagg, the resident black cat, had decided to loaf around, hidden somewhere between the azaleas and the hibiscuses. 

Adrien was about to give up and head out early for lunch when he heard the characteristic jingle of the door. His breath caught as an elegant lady walked in. She wore a simple, yet tasteful, red polka-dotted dress which had him instantly nickname her ‘Ladybug’. Her eyes were masked by large sunglasses. Standing in the midst of the flowers, she looked like a model in a jungle-themed photo shoot. He would know, having participated in more than one.

From where he stood, at the till, he had a good view of what was going on in the shop, without actually being seen, hidden behind the hanging plants section. He watched as she walked around hesitantly, examining the different bouquets on display. She turned around and her apparent perplexity made him shake out of his admiration. He strode out of his hiding place, smoothing his black and green apron as he did so.

“Hi, welcome to the Cat’s fleower’s, may I help you?” He wished there was something more original to say, but he could hardly go ahead and just offer her flowers. 

Marinette frowned slightly, although her expression was hidden by her bangs and glasses. There was something familiar about the man standing before her, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on it. She quickly scanned his appearance, her designer eye turning into critique mode, and tried to identify where she’d seen him before. He was, she would say, conventionally handsome, in an ‘I don’t try’ way. His blond hair was tousled like he’d just rolled out of bed (it wasn’t a bad look, but it could be improved on), and his glasses bore a layer of dirt which occulted his eyes, that she assumed were green. He definitely would have stood out from all the manicured men she mixed with in the fashion world. A stray Chat Noir amidst a bunch of aristocats. 

Maybe she’d just seen him in the street.

“Hello, I wanted to buy a bouquet, but I can’t really pick. You have a beautiful selection.” She smiled, and Adrien could swear his heart skipped a beat. 

“Thank you.” He replied, deciding to take the compliment as if he’d ordered the flowers himself. “If I may ask, what’s the occasion?”

“Oh, nothing in particular.” She shrugged. “I just like having blooms around when I work.” 

“That makes two of us.” He winked. “Is there anything you feel drawn to? Or any emotions you’re feeling?”

Marinette thought it was quite a personal question to ask someone he’d just met, but didn’t dislike it.

“I’m short on inspiration these days.” She admitted.

“Creativity boost, coming right up!” He grinned. Now was his time to shine; ever since starting this part-time job, he’d started reading up on the flower language, and it seemed like his study would finally be paying off. “As it happens, I have angelicas, which represent inspiration, in stock. I’ll also add hollyhock for ambition, gerberas for stress relief, sweet basil for good wishes, and-”

He was interrupted by her ringtone. Ladybug fished her phone out of her handbag, and saw a familiar face on the screen.

“Sorry, I have to take this.” She apologised, swiping to answer. He nodded understandingly and gestured that he’d be wrapping the bouquet.

“Hello?” 

“Hi boss!” Alya, her PR manager, and incidentally, her best friend greeted. “You are going to LOVE me.”

Marinette shook her head, amused. “You know I already do, what did you do this time?”

“I only went and got you THE Adrien Agreste’s number!” Her friend squealed, making her move her phone away from her ear. 

“You didn’t!” She gasped. “How?”

“Girl, I’ve seen how you drool over his pictures, I needed to do something about it! Nino knows him, it wasn’t very hard to convince him to give me his number.”

Marinette had nursed a crush on the model ever since he’d given her his umbrella at the end of a fashion show, back when she was still an intern working for a big brand. It didn’t hurt that he was one of the most handsome models out there. They’d seen each other again from afar during fashion weeks, their interactions often summarised to a little chit-chat over a glass of Champagne, surrounded by a crowd.

“But what will I even do with it?” She asked, panic seeping through her words. How could she justify getting his number? And what would she say? Would he even know who she was?

“Marinette, I can feel your anxiety from here, breathe.” Alya chuckled. “We’ll work on it.”

“Okay.” Marinette steadied her breathing. “Meet you in ten for lunch?”

Adrien’s heart sank as he heard the words. He’d been about to ask her if she felt like grabbing a bite with him. He grabbed his pen and scribbled a quick ladybug sketch on the back of the business card, along with the words ‘see you again soon!’ and stapled it to the bouquet.

Marinette stole a last look at the flower shop as she exited it after paying, and smiled. She had to admit, Chat Noir’s enumeration had left her dubious. She definitely wouldn't have thought of arranging those flowers together, yet the bouquet was beautiful. She held it out at arms length to examine it, and saw the card. Her mind raced, and she suddenly knew how to end her show. She accelerated her pace to get back to the office before the idea flew away.

Adrien Agreste’s number, wonderful flowers, and a strike of inspiration. The Cat’s fleowers had worked like a lucky charm. 

She had a feeling she hadn’t seen the last of it.

[dearchikkie]

Under Arrest

MARICHAT MAY 2020

Day 4: Thief

A/N: yikers. This is an adapted fic on a one-shot I wrote a while ago, but never finished. I changed a few things with this one and was surprised by how it turned out, but I'm still pleased. I hope you enjoy it :)

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧*:･ﾟ✧

in a world where fashion, was now justice for Marinette.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧*:･ﾟ✧

A shrill beeping sound echoed around the room, ruining the once peaceful silence. The black-haired girl groaned, only snuggling deeper into her covers. Her alarm was hushed as she pulled her pillow over her head and shoved it into her face. Maybe she could just stay like this forever. 

Half-asleep, with her annoying alarm clock beeping on and on till the end of time. But then she heard the familiar creak of her bedroom door and knew her peace would not last for long.

"Marinette! Get up! Your shift starts in an hour and you aren't even dressed yet," Alya tugged the blanket out of Marinette's grip and onto the floor.

"Ugh... Alya, go away," Marinette groaned. She tried to pull her blanket back but Alya kept a firm grip,

"C'mon, girl. You're not going to be late again, are you?"

"Mmh."

"Marinette!"

"Fine! Fine, let me get dressed," she grumbled. Alya nodded satisfied and left the room. Reluctantly, Marinette got up and pulled out her uniform. Before entering the bathroom, Marinette paused in the doorway, staring at an old photograph. 

Her, Alya, Nino and Adrien all grinned at the camera, eyes wrinkling with joy. The photograph had been taken all the way back in high school; back when Marinette was still Ladybug, when Alya and Nino were still together, when Adrien...

She looked away. She had already slept in, she couldn't keep Alya waiting anymore. After brushing her teeth and putting on some dry shampoo, Marinette left and greeted Alya at the door. Together, they drove downtown to the poste de police. Marinette stared out the window, eyes scanning over a large colourful billboard: 

EXCLUSIVE @ CLOUD NINE LOUNGE! NINO LAHIFFE LIVE DJ! 8PM - 2AM

Marinette could see Alya grip the wheel tighter. She side glanced her, carefully avoiding the event advertised outside, "You remember your phone?"

"Yes, Alya. That was a one-time thing!"

"Sure, just like the 'one-time-thing' where you showed up to work out of uniform, then five hours after your shift, then used the wrong radio code making us all think-"

"Ok! Ok!" they laughed together, settling into a comfortable silence. Eventually, the light turned green and they sped down the street. "Alya, do you ever miss being with Ni-"

"Can you turn the AC down? I'm getting kinda cold,"

"Ah, sure."

✧✬✧

Alya dropped Marinette off then drove down the road to pick up their coffees. Alya was lucky enough to have a later shift, so she had plenty of time to eat dinner and pick up their coffees.

Marinette on the other hand was not so lucky.

She quickened her pace and walked into the police headquarters, opening the door with a tug. Marinette pushed the door forward and let it slam behind her as she loosened the scarf around her neck. A young girl interning sat typing away at the computer.

"Hello Eve, is Elleanor in?" She stopped typing and glanced up at her. At the sight of Marinette, she smiled widely and pushed her glasses back up into her face,

"Marinette! Good evening! A bit chilly, isn't it?" Eve was the newest [and youngest] intern working here. Despite her short, girly bobbed hair and stylish glasses, she was a hard worker. Surprisingly positive despite the glum situation that laid in the files.

"I guess so, anyway, is Elleanor docked in yet?"

"Oh, Elly? No, she isn't inside. She had to meet her father this morning so she's coming in this afternoon, why?" Marinette waved her off,

"Don't worry about it. I'd better get to work; bye, Eve!"

"Bye, Marinette! Good luck today!" Nodding her head, Marinette hurried away to her office. Marinette fell into her chair, sighing at the stack of paperwork in her desks left corner. 

Despite it being her strong suit, Marinette despised paperwork, but someone had to do it. She cracked her knuckle and rifled through her cabinets, finally finding a working pen. "Let's get to work,"

✧✬✧

"Hey, Mari. I brought you a croissant," Marinette looked up and saw Alya leaning against her door frame. Alya threw a small brown bag in Mari's direction; practically drooling, Marinette removed the croissant and devoured it in record time.

"I'm starving! Thank you so much." Alya chuckled and sat down on the spare office chair,

"I figured. After all, you did miss your break,"

"I did?"

"Just like yesterday..." they sighed. Marinette had been too enthralled with her work yet again and hadn't realized just how much time had passed. She turned her phone on and checked the time: 11:43 AM

"I've been working for three hours? How the hell did that happen?" Alya tutted at her side,

"So dedicated. If only it was on purpose,"

"Shut up!" Marinette teased back. After checking her notifications she stood up and pocketed her phone, "You think I could get away with taking a break now?"

"Eh. We're all hyped on coffee and the chief is out right now. I say go for it,"

"Great. Cover for me!" Marinette wandered through the station, occasionally stopping to chat with a coworker. Eventually, she gave up on socializing and scaled the fire ladder to the rooftop. When she checked her phone again, she found it was now nearly 1 AM. 

The air above the station was much colder than the heated environment below. Marinette didn't have a jacket but grew accustomed to it easily. Cars drove by on the street below, honking at any small inconvenience.

A set of teens walked by, ice cream cones in hand as they laughed at something the tallest one said. Marinette felt an odd sense of nostalgia. There was once a time when Marinette and her friends had been like that, she remembered the first time they attended a party; Nino getting so drunk he vomited all over Roses shoes, then spent the entire night apologizing. Alya sticking by his side the entire time and laughing every time he called her beautiful. Marinette, when she danced and danced and danced with A-

She shouldn't think about that. The past was in the past, why couldn't she just accept that? Inhaling a big breath of fresh air, Marinette got up and stood on the building's edge overlooking the building next door.

She hadn't been Ladybug for a couple of years now. At times she desperately missed Tikki, the thrill she got as she swung across the streets of Paris. But that was her old life; she was Marinette Dupain-Cheng the police officer now. 

Tikki promised they'd see each other again, but Marinette now knew she was merely comforting the young girl. They'd never see each other again. Not as long as Hawkmoth was defeated.

But Marinette was still as strong as before. She stared at the small gap between the two buildings. If she jumped, she was sure she could make it over. Maybe she'd have to pull herself up a bit, but she'd get there. All she had to do was jump. Slowly, she let one leg dangle over the edge, then leaned forward and-

Marinette hit the hard ground, legs buckling beneath her as she hit the cement. She groaned in pain, hands automatically reaching for her stomach. Squinting her eyes at the culprit, Marinette's eyes widened. Already short on breath, Marinette gasped aloud.

"Chat?"

The leather-clad figure stood immediately, seemingly unbothered by the fall they had both just suffered, "What the hell were you doing?" he snarled.

Marinette was taken aback. For 5 years. 5 YEARS. Law enforcement had been desperate in their attempts to apprehend Chat Noir. For 5 years it had been a literal cat and mouse chase between them all. For 5 years Chat Noir had robbed the elite of Paris. For 5 years, Marinette had wondered what had happened to her kitty.

Now, here he was. Standing right in front of her.

"Answer me. What were you about to do?" a loud 'SLAP' filled the air. A tense silence followed, Marinette glaring at the man in front of her. A red, hand print stained Chat's cheek as he barred his fangs at the noirette. "What was that fo-"

"You're under arrest. Get on the ground with your hands behind your head." Chat glared at the silver pistol now pointed directly at his forehead.

"Go ahead. I dare you."

"Get on the ground! I will shoot you if necessary!"

Chat Noir scoffed, "And here I thought you'd embrace me like an old friend. You used to be the polite one between the half of us."

"Yeah well, things change when one half goes insane, don't they?" Marinette fiddled with her pistol. No way was she going to shoot Chat Noir, she doubted it would even penetrate him with his suit on. All he needed was to cooperate, and nothing would happen.

But what if he didn't?

"Still got your wits, I see. I missed our banter, Purr-incess--"

"DON'T CALL ME THAT!" Chat's eyes widened, his once mocking smirk replaced with a tense straight line. Marinette couldn't blame him; she was shocked at the outburst herself. But no one was allowed to call her that. No one. Not even the one that started it. "Chat, please. Surrender."

"I came here to talk. I'm not turning myself in!"

Marinette pocketed her gun. It was obvious it was a simple accessory at this point, she'd have a better chance with both her hands-free. Slowly, Chat approached her. She glared at his walking figure but didn't protest as he stood right in front of her.

Blue eyes met green. Memories of puns and jokes scattered around her mind. Images of laughing faces, blonde locks and black leather clogged her vision, but she swiftly shook them away. Marinette apprehensively raised her hand, hovering it just over Chat's cheek. His expression remained cold, but his eyes softened at her touch. "What happened to you?"

They stayed like that for a while; staring into each other's eyes. Where did everything go wrong?

Loud thumps broke their trance. Like a switch, Chat pushed Marinette away and glared at the rooftop entrance. The doorknob twisted left and right, Alya's voice shouting from behind it. "Marinette? Marinette! You okay up here?"

As Alya struggled, Marinette returned her gaze to Chat Noir, "I'm not leaving without you. I'm an officer, I have duties now."

"I already said; I'm not here to sur-"

"Marinette! Is there someone else up here?"

Time was running out. Any second now Alya would get through and see Marinette casually conversing with the Chat Noir. "I'm sick of waiting, let's go." Chat Noir wrapped his arms around Marinette's waist, pulling her tightly towards him.

"What? Chat, what are you doin-" Chat seized Marinette and held her up bridal style, then took of bounding over the rooftops of Paris. Just as Chat jumped over onto their third building, Marinette heard Alya slam the door open. She's going to kill me. While bounding around Paris in the arms of Chat Noir was the last thing she wanted to do, Marinette decided against fighting back due to Chat being the only thing keeping her from falling over three stories down.

Eventually, Chat Noir paused on a particularly high building. He set Marinette down, and instantly she pushed him away, "What's wrong with you?"

"What's wrong with me?"

"Yeah! I'm still on duty, you can't just whisk me away to play '20 questions'!" Marinette stabbed a finger into Chat's chest, rapidly walking faster and faster towards him, "Who do you think you are? You aren't a superhero anymore! Hawkmoth was defeated and instead of giving your miraculous in you fucking go rogue! Stealing from Paris' elite! Destroying buildings, just like the Gabriel Agre-" Marinette paused. Tears threatened to drip down her face, and Marinette didn't feel like crying in front of Chat Noir today.

He tentatively set a hand on her shoulder. Marinette hissed at his touch, but only moved her gaze towards a nearby water tower, "Princess, I-"

"No!" Marinette slapped his hand off of her, "You can't just do this! You can't disappear, go all 'Robin Hood' and rob the rich then come back! Calling me 'Princess' like nothing ever happened! Like you didn't leave me!" Marinette released a guttural moan, sobs breaking out, "You left me."

Chat watched as Marinette crumbled onto the ground, hands instantly wiping her eyes as she continued to cry. Pull yourself together Marinette. Warmth blossomed in Marinette's side, she glanced up, watching as Chat settled beside her. He held her as she cried, not once interrupting.

When she could finally speak without soaking her face, Marinette looked back up at him. Chat stared into her eyes as he replied, "I'm sorry for leaving."

"Why did you?"

Chat sighed, turning away from her, "So many things were happening. I lost control. I couldn't deal with everything."

"We all were."

"I know." Chat turned back to Marinette, who now sat silent, observing him, "I shouldn't have left. I should have said goodbye. I was afraid you'd stop me. Maybe things would have been better if you did." minutes passed as the pair sat in silence. Then, a golden glow overtook them.

Marinette couldn't help but let out a few quiet giggles, despite her still being fresh from crying, "The sun's rising. Alya's going to kill me when I get back." Chat laughed along with her.

"I guess it's time I brought you back anyway." he stood up, stretching his arms out. He offered his hand, Marinette grabbed it and pulled herself up beside him.

"I don't want you to disappear again, I can't lose you again."

"Me neither."

"I..." Marinette paused, Alya's grief-stricken face flashed in her mind. If she knew where Marinette was right now she'd freak. There was no one who hated Chat Noir more, but even so... "I live in the tall apartment building down Rue Baudin street. I room with Alya, but if you knock on my window..." she trailed off. Marinette's cheeks warmed to a faint pink, suddenly feeling embarrassed.

Chat grinned at her, eyes narrowing at the flustered girl, "Just like old times huh?"

"Just like old times,"

"Well," Chat Noir plucked Marinette and held her up bridal style yet again, "Guess it's time to go."

✧✬✧

"Marinette! Are you ok? Where were you?" Marinette stumbled down the hall, straight to Alya's office, "You're freezing!"

Alya cleared a nearby chair and sat Marinette down, covering her with a spare blanket, "I saw- I saw Chat Noir."

"WHAT!" Alya's face scrunched up and glowed a deep scarlet, "Oh my god- I'm telling Chief. You stay here." Alya rushed out the room, slamming the door shut behind her.

Marinette's calm face struck Alya as she walked down the hall. She backtracked and paused outside her office door. Slowly, she cracked the door open and peeked through. Her face contorted into a sorrowful expression as she sighed. Marinette sat exactly as she left her, staring passionately at the tile ground, as her face reddened exactly the same way it did five years ago.

"Oh, Mari..."

[scarofthewind]

Do a NSFW with Chucky

A/N: Hope you enjoy this as much as I did! I made him human, so like he was before being in a doll form. Hope you don’t mind!Warnings: NSFW, R18+, mentions of prostitution, squirting

“You’re such a child, Charles!” 

“Yeah well at least I’m not some common whore, selling myself to just anyone!”

The landlady felt her anger bubble to its top, breaking up the fight between the two who were in the parking lot. “If you two don’t stop I swear I’m gonna evict you!” She hobbled over, smacking Charles with a rolled up newspaper. “You don’t need to speak to (Y/N) like that!” 

“Fuck off.” He growled, glaring at the landlady and then at you. “Don’t come crawling back to me the next time your patron beats you nearly to death.” Coldly, he shoved past you, going to his apartment and slamming the door. 

You stood there biting your lip and shaking from the rage you felt. The landlady looked at you with sad eyes, knowing that the fights between you and Charles were always bad.

“You deserve better dear. That man doesn’t love you.” She said, referring to Charles.

You shook your head, tightening your jacket around yourself. “He doesn’t, nor will he ever. But Charles is the only one who’s taken care of me.”

“He treats you like shit, (Y/N). That’s not healthy.”

“Neither is working in a brothel. This world is so fucked up for people like me and him, he’s the best I can get.” You cursed yourself for feeling tears burn in your eyes. “And I love that asshole.” 

“Then why sell yourself?” The small landlady asked, looking at you from over her glasses.

“That’s a good question that I still haven’t found the answer to.” You huffed, waving and walking off, going to meet your boss for a talk you didn’t want to go through.

*

“Where did she go?” The landlady scoffed, looking up from the computer she was on to see Charles standing in the doorway of her office.

“How should I know?” She rolled her eyes, shooing him away. “You don’t deserve her anyway.”

Charles stiffened and grimaced, “Mind your business old lady.” 

“She went to talk to her boss. Sounded like she was going to quit. Hopefully she’s alright.” The landlady gave a sad look to Charles and he knew what for. That brothel was a hard place to leave. 

Which is why he was lucky to have you. 

Charles felt his stomach drop realizing that you could be really hurt. Your boss didn’t let you off easy when you talked about leaving the last time, why would this be any different? If anything it would be worse. Charles made his way into town, keeping his head low and looking for you down every alleyway. 

He passed the side of the rundown building you worked in, asking a few girls if they had seen you and lucky enough, one had. However, it wasn’t something Charles wanted to see. 

He didn’t know whether to be furious or pity you when he found you. Your body was bruised and you were wrapped up in a small blanket behind a hotel. Charles walked over to you carefully and took his jacket off, draping it over your shoulders. “I’m out.” You said shakily, your body cold from the evening air.

“Looks like he messed you up pretty bad.” Charles mumbled, tilting your head to see the numerous bites and even some blood on your neck and chest. Your face was bruised as well and the cut on your lip looked like it stung horribly. He noticed that you were naked under neath the blanket and he growled. “Did he come inside you?” 

You nodded and buried your face in your arms.   “I’m still on the birth control though. I had some Plan B at your apartment just in case anything ever happened so I’ll take that later.” You sniffled, wiping away a few tears. “He wasn’t the only one Charles.”  

“Are you fucking kidding me?! He let the whole male staff have their way with you?” Charles was shaking with anger at this point.

“It was the price I had to pay in order to leave.” You snapped, the hot tears rolling down your face made you feel somewhat better. “It’s over so don’t worry about it. Everything’s over.”

Charles was fuming, eyes wide and heart racing. “C’mon. I’ll call a taxi.” He mumbled, handing you his apartment keys and helping you stand. When he managed to stop the yellow car, he helped place you inside and told the driver to take you back home. 

You grabbed Charles’ arm, stopping him from shutting the door. “Don’t do whatever your planning. It’ll only make things worse.” Charles leaned inside the car towards you.

“How can it become worse if they are all dead?” He smirked manically and you felt yourself smile a bit too. He was a psycho, but you loved him. “Go home and get some rest. I won’t be long.” He said, kissing your lips gently before moving back onto the curb and watching you roll your window up as the cab drove off. 

Charles fumbled around in his pockets, taking out a cigarette and lighting it. He enjoyed the momentary stress reliever before smashing the bud on the ground and grabbing the handle of his gun from the holster on his back. Making sure he had plenty of rounds not only in that gun, but the two other ones he carried as well, he made his way inside the brothel. There was about to be a show and he wouldn’t want the boss to miss it.

*

You sat up from the bed as soon as you heard the door open and then close. There was thudding and a few grunts from your lover but he looked fine as he stumbled into the bedroom. His clothes were stained in blood that you knew you’d have to scrub out later. 

“I thought I told you to rest.” He asked, taking off his holsters and throwing his empty guns in a dresser drawer. 

“I did. I just woke up.” You responded, checking him out to make sure he was fine. “They all dead?” 

“Yup.” 

“Thank you.” Charles froze, turning around to face you as he took his shoes off. You did look better now that you were cleaned up but the fact that you were tainted by many men tonight pissed him off.

“I enjoyed it.” He growled, loosening his tie and running a hand through his long hair. He tried to keep himself composed. He couldn’t jump your bones after what happened to you today. He wasn’t that mean. “Stop staring at me. I’m fine.” He mumbled, flopping down on the bed and pulling you down with him. 

“Can I ask you something?” You huffed, wiping a few speckles of blood from his cheek. 

“You’re gonna ask me anyway.” He replied, his bright blue eyes watching your facial expressions. 

“Do you love me Charles?” Your heart raced in your chest and you felt like you were going to pass out from the quietness of the room. 

“I didn’t think I was capable of loving someone other than myself.” Charles turned to look at the ceiling and could feel your gaze burn into the side of his head. “But then I met you. Given the first time we met, I had hired you for the night. Now look, you’re mine for life.” 

“Good luck getting rid of me, hot stuff.” You smirked, scooting over and kissing his cheek. Charles groaned at your nickname you gave him but still wrapped an arm around your side, pulling you closer against him. 

Being a highly sexually active woman, you could tell when a man was holding himself back. And Charles was about to pop a vein from his restraint. Casually reaching down, you ran your hand along his thigh, moving up to touch his now swelling cock. As soon as he felt your fingertips trace over his member, he roughly grabbed your wrists and pinned you to the bed. “I’m trying to be nice. I don’t want you to hurt more than you are.” 

You smiled softly at him, “I’m alright. We don’t have to go all the way.” Charles stared down at you for a moment, taking in your statement before sighing. 

“I’m not going to take forever. I’m tired.” He mumbled, moving down between your legs and pulling your underwear off. You situated yourself to where you could see Charles over your mound and you could already feel yourself growing hotter. 

“You can come as much as you want.” His breath fanned across your thighs as he kissed down them, spreading your legs wider and gently kissing your outer lips. Charles traced a finger up and down your slit, easing one inside you and watching your face as his tongue swiped across your clit. 

Your legs trembled slightly at the feeling of his lips sucking around your clit while he added another finger, curling them deeply in your core. “Charles...” You panted, feeling your head fall back on the pillow behind you as your hips moved against his hand. “For the love of Christ, go faster.” A nip to your clit made you look back down at him. 

“Please?” You asked, watching him smirk against your clit as his tongue rubbed against it harshly. A soft moan left your lips and you gripped the headboard, feeling the gentle burn in your stomach. 

Charles hummed against your cunt and added a third finger, pumping them quickly inside you. He could feel your walls clench around his digits as he increased his suction on your clit, rubbing his tongue in circles over it. He gave a few more rough licks to your clit before removing himself from it, looking at how swollen and dark pink it had become. 

“Fuck your soaked.” He growled, looking at the wet spot under your rear. Your pussy was squelching as his fingers pounded into you at inhuman speeds. You could feel your toes curl and you let out a cry as your orgasm hit in a wave of shaking pleasure. 

Charles frowned to himself, letting you ride out your orgasm before removing his fingers. “I’ve wanted to see if this will work on you.” He hummed and you looked down at him, panting. 

“What is it?” You asked, wiping the drool from your lips. 

“Can you come from just your clit and squirt in the end?” 

“I can.” You replied, watching as his eyes darkened. “Don’t worry, it was a guy in high school who helped me figure it out.” Your hands went to his hair and brushed some of it from his eyes. “Make me come again Charles.” 

With a low growl, the man mumbled something incoherent as he lowered himself once again, pressing the pads of two of his fingers, against your clit. He started off slow, rubbing in small circles and watching your opening clench up. His eyes looked to your face that was blushing as he started to gradually increase his pressure and quickness. 

You could feel your thighs shake and your calves burn as he neared you to heaven. Tightening your fists in the sheets, you did all you could from not closing your legs. Charles watched as your body twitched, your needy cunt rubbing against his hand. A large grin found a way to his face and he rubbed his hand along your clit, roughly and quickly. The feeling of his hand rubbing your clit fast and hard was enough to make you shout out foul words that Charles laughed at. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” You shouted, your hips raising and his hand following in pursuit. 

“C’mon baby girl, you’re almost there.” He hummed, moving to the side and moving his hand the fast he could, rubbing your clit side to side and letting your hips press back against it. 

A gasp left your lips as you felt yourself snap. Your vision went white and you could feel your legs twitch repeatedly when you came. You felt the familiar gush of yourself squirting as well as the giant wet spot beneath you that Charles was gawking at. 

“That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen you do.” He said after letting you calm down. 

“Really?” You asked, watching him take his pants off and walk between your legs. Spitting in one hand, he wrapped it around his cock, lazily pumping at it while he looked over your spent lower half. 

“Your pussy is so pretty (Y/N).” He groaned, quickening his pace and moving closer to you. You lifted your shirt so his come wouldn’t ruin it and he grunted, watching your hardened nipples pop out from under the material. 

“This pussy?” You teased, moving a hand down between your legs and opening your lower lips, giving him sight inside you. 

“Fuck yes.” He panted, his thighs clenching as he gave himself a few more good wanks before releasing on your stomach. 

You watched as he finished, letting his cock go and flopping down next to you. “I’ll blow you in the morning if we can get donuts for breakfast.” Charles turned his head and looked at you strangely before kissing you roughly. HIs hands pulled at your hair and his tongue ran across your bottom lip before he took it between his teeth and bit down. 

You hissed and pushed him away, dabbing as the now open cut that had been scabbed over form earlier. “Bastard.” You glared at him, turning over and grabbing a tissue from the bedside table.

“That was my ‘yes’ to your question.” He chuckled, waiting for you to press the tissue enough times to stop the bleeding, before turning off the light. 

[rapunzelles-archive]

PROLOGUE PT. I: A TALE OF TWO HEARTS

— you are the love that came without warning; you had my heart before i could say no

          KIERAN CAN’T REMEMBER a time he didn’t love the girl with the silver eyes. He’s tried. He’s tried so hard, because maybe if he could remember such a time, he could stop loving her now, as if he had never loved her at all. But, he despairs, how can he when even his earliest recollection takes him back to memories of her?

He is three and grumpy, frustrated with the rainy weather that prevents him from playing outside. He’s pouting in his room when his mother, Rhozia’s bright-eyed Queen, bursts through the doorway bearing a bouquet of freshly cut flowers.

“Miss Gracelyn’s just had her baby! Come, darling, let’s go see her!” Vaguely, Kieran remembers his father’s most trusted advisor and her swollen stomach. He makes a face, he doesn’t like babies much—the last time he’d seen one had been six months ago with the birth of his newborn brother, Ster-fry something or other, and he had been a drooling mess. Besides, he hated the hospital, where everything was too clean and too bright. But he could never resist his mother. Thus, a reluctant Kieran allows himself to be dragged towards the hospital wing of the palace, where a woman of about thirty is lying in bed, clutching a pink bundle in her arms. His mother is ecstatic to see her friend and rushes forward with her offering of flowers. Kieran, is more reserved however, and holds back, hiding behind the skirt of his mother’s royal blue gown for almost fifteen minutes before his curiosity gets the better of him.

He had been afraid to see spittle—stars knew how many cloths his new brother went through every day—but upon first glance, he’s pleasantly surprised to see that the baby is drool-free. Upon looking closer, he notices the freckles dotting her cheeks, and though her eyes are closed, Kieran is already entranced. She has curls of brown blooming atop her head, and it looks so much softer than Eliza’s wild tresses that he almost reaches out to touch it. It’s then that she opens her eyes, and they shine such a brilliant pearl gray that he thinks he can’t breathe.

“What’s her name?” He asks Gracelyn with wide eyes. “She’s so pretty!”

She laughs quietly, “Gwyneira, but she’s to be called Gwen.”

“Hi Gwen,” the little prince bends toward her like a flower to the sun, saying her name like it’s something sacred. She looks so fragile, so vulnerable in her mother’s arms, and even though he’s just met her, something akin to devotion courses through his veins like fire. “I’m Kieran. I’m going to be your protector.”

        When a red mark appears on his wrist some years down the road bearing the name of one Gwyneira Revenciel, the crown prince is hardly surprised. He’s loved her since day one, it’s about time the mark proving it showed up.

        What Kieran isn’t expecting, however, is for that red mark to ever signify anything more than a secret childhood crush.

          It happened the day her father had left. Henri Revenciel had left the palace under the pretense of buying roses for his wife and daughter, only to never return. Kieran remembers walking out from his last lesson of the day, reveling in the sunlight streaming through the glass windows when he catches sight of a girl’s crumpled form. He immediately recognizes her—he could probably spot her from a mile away—and the shock of seeing her cry causes him to drop everything at once so he can rush to her side.

          “Gwen?” He asks quietly, kneeling in front of her. He’s about to ask her if she’s okay—and it’s a stupid question, she obviously isn’t—when she lifts her head, eyes watery, and instinctively, Kieran opens his arms. She falls into his embrace as a fresh round of sobs wracked her body. He pulls her close, and though they stay like that for a good long while, never does he let her go. Not even once.

          Later that night, after he’s tucked her into bed, Kieran leans against her open doorway, finding comfort in the way the blankets rise and fall in an even pattern. His lips are twisted in a sad smile, and his heart physically aches with the knowledge that the first person to break her heart was not a boy, but her father. He’s tempted to perch himself by her bedside to make sure she sleeps peacefully, and the sudden yearning of wishing she had asked him to stay knocks the breath out of him. He doesn’t entertain the thought—he can’t—but still, he absently traces the scarlet mark he keeps hidden from prying eyes, only to feel a searing pain.

        Frowning, he lifts the sleeve of his silken shirt with a certain amount of caution, and all the blood drains from his face when he realizes that his only red mark is no longer red.

        It’s white.

        And then he’s stumbling away from the doorway, almost forgetting to pull the door shut behind him in his panic. He begins to hyperventilate, the blood rushing to his head all at once. This wasn’t happening. This wasn’t happening. This wasn’t happening.

        Kieran had heard stories about this sort of phenomenon, where red and yellow marks occasionally turned white, an indication that someone you already loved was your soulmate. Part of him always knew that Gwen meant more to him than some silly childhood crush, but this? This was his demise.

        With a groan, the crown prince slumps against the wall, rubbing at his eyes. Well this is absolutely fantastic, he thought sardonically. He was in love with a girl who had no idea how he felt, and to add salt to the wound, he knew for certain that she had no matching marks. It’s then that he vows never to tell her about the bond that now ties him to her, because he doesn’t want to burden her like that, not when she’s only thirteen. So he quickly gathers his resolve and straightens his shoulders, walking down the hall as if each step that takes him further and further away from his soulmate isn’t tearing his heart in two different directions.

          After that fateful night, Kieran purposely avoids everyone in the palace for a good week or so, and since he’s sixteen, most of his family members simply chalk it up to teenage angst.

        Gwen, to her credit, doesn’t believe any of it for even a second.

        When she manages to finally corner him in his office, she places her hands on her hips and glares at him. The sight of it makes him want to laugh, because standing in her pink gown and flowers crowning her head, she looks more adorable than she does scary. He swallows the laughter though, and refuses to meet her gaze.

        “Why are you avoiding me?” Gwen is pouting and petulant. She steps towards him, eliciting a nervous sort of laugh from her best friend, who in his attempt to put distance between them, find himself cornered by the back of his desk.

        “I-I’m not,” he retorts, desperately trying to pull himself together. “I’ve just been…” he thinks long and hard, “I’ve been looking for your father.” There. It wasn’t a complete lie, he had been looking for Henri Revenciel, but to no avail.

        Immediately, her expression both softens and hardens. “You don’t have to do that, Ki,” she murmurs, dropping her gaze, “I know he’s not coming back.” And then with startling defiance Gwen meets his eyes and like every other time it’s happened, he’s electrified by the way her eyes shine like liquid moonlight. “We don’t need him. So stop looking for him, please. I just want my best friend back.” She’s adopted her signature puppy dog look, and damn the heavens, he could never deny her anything.

        “Okay,” he replies quietly, and Gwen’s smile blossoms. With a cry of delight, she launches herself forward and wraps him in a crushing hug.

        He’s surprised at how much he’s missed this, missed her. His chin fits perfectly into the crook of her neck when he leans down, and it’s as if their arms were made to hold each other. Kieran swallows. He was going to have to be very careful from now on.

        Months later when she tells him she likes Sterling, he feels what is left of his heart shatter like glass.

        “That’s great,” he croaks when she tells him the big news with that adorable rosy blush staining her cheeks. “You two would make a perfect couple.” The worst part is, he’s not even lying. His brother is a far better match for Gwen than he is; they’re closer in age, and Sterling is the star of Rhozia and the royal family. He was charming and kind and would sweep her off her feet like she deserved to be. They would be beautiful and picturesque together, and he hated himself for being so upset about it.

        At his words, his soulmate beams, and Kieran can’t breathe. He loves it when she looks like that, for her smile could rival that of the brightness of the sun. “You think so?” She asks, blush darkening. “You’re the bestest friend a girl could ask for, Ki!” With that, she presses a kiss to his cheek and spins giddily out of the room, a whirlwind of lace and silk that unknowingly leaves a devastated boy behind.

        Over the course of time, it becomes easier for him to believe that Gwen isn’t meant for him, that she never was. The mark was a mistake. It had to be. How could he be her perfect match when it was so obvious that it was his brother who was her soulmate? Besides, he rationalized, he was the crown prince, and when it was time for him to ascend to the throne, that would mean his wife would have to be queen. Gwen had made it clear she longed to travel the world, and he loved her too much—he would not tie her down. So he began to do anything and everything in an effort to forget her, hoping that in time, the awful white mark would disappear.

        Each weekend found him out at some sort of party; he was addicted to the way it made him forget the heartbreak. The paparazzi always caught him kissing some new girl every week, but not once did he take any of them home. No, even that was a line he would not cross, though it didn’t stop his parents from berating him each morning.

        “Why can’t you act like a prince?” Was a common question his father asked him. “Pull yourself together son, you’re a Deluca.”

        “I’m searching for my soulmate,” Kieran would retort, “Not everyone can have you and mother’s fairytale romance!” He has to force himself to ignore how heavy the lie feels on his tongue, how his cursed mark burns every time he repeats those words. And even then, as the years passed and he watched Gwen love Sterling, and even as he kissed other girls, the white mark staining his left wrist never so much as lost its pearly sheen.

        He doesn’t start to cover up his mark until he turns eighteen. He had never considered it to be an option—the mark was a part of him, no matter how much he hated it at times. But even so, there were days when the white mark seemed to physically cause him heartache, likely due to the fact that it was tied to his soul or some other explanation he didn’t care too much to understand. All he knew was that he was hurting, and the root of it was that damned mark.

        So one afternoon, Kieran dons his best disguise and slips out of the palace, a handful of gold coins weighing down the pockets of his wool coat. He knows where to go—he’s accompanied his sisters to the beauty boutique more than enough times. The shop is painted a pale blue, and the inside is so fluorescently bright that it hurts his eyes. He’s in and out in a matter of minutes though, only grabbing a bottle of thick liquid that matches his skin color and a matching powder. He has only a vague idea of how to use it, but that’s a bridge he’ll cross later. He’s eager to hurry back to the palace, and as soon as he ducks out of the store, Kieran is careful to keep his head low to avoid detection. The last thing he needs at the moment is yet another ‘scandal’ perpetrated by the media.

        In the privacy of his suite, he takes out the bottle and the powder, setting the items down carefully on the cherrywood dresser. He stares at them for a moment, then hesitantly picks up the bottle and twists the cap open. Then, with a deep shuddering breath, he pushes his sleeve up, now fully ready to dip his fingers into the skin-colored liquid to paint over his mark.

        Perhaps he’s not as ready as he believes himself to be, however, because Kieran finds himself distracted with tracing the outline of the mark with his index finger, silently wishing—and not for the first time—that he didn’t have to hide it from the rest of the world. The light catches on the mark, and the way it shines reminds him of the way Gwen’s eyes sparkle whenever she’s happy, and he’s pulled out of his thoughts—he has to, needs to forget her. With a sudden surge of determination, he dips his fingers into the makeup. In his intense focus though, he does not hear the three knocks rapped on the door, or the maid announcing herself right as she pushes her way in with a cleaning cart.

        By the time Kieran realizes what’s happened, it’s too late.

        The maid is gasping, stumbling backward at the sight of the crown prince and apologizing profusely for her intrusion when the light refracts perfectly off his wrist. Her eyes flick towards it, and with the way her sea green eyes widen, he knows his secret is no longer safe.

        She’d seen his mark.

[lousylark]

blue lace

(Part 8. Ready the previous part here, read the next part here (coming soon), check out chapter summaries and masterpost here (coming soon). Check my “blue lace” archive for chapters/updates. Enjoy! <3)  

Spring 8th. Early morning. The Goddess Spring.

Once a week, Minori wakes up extra early so she can pay a little visit to Dessie and Witchie.

She used to go midday after she finished her chores, but occasionally she’d get strange looks from other villagers who happened to see her scaling the lily pads in the Spring. After all, as far as she knows, Minori is the only one who can see the deities’ shared abode, so it must look rather odd indeed to see a farmer sitting on a giant lily pad talking to no one in particular.

So now she goes early in the morning to avoid as much awkwardness as possible. This particular morning begins like any other: she brings a basket packed with fruit, cheeses, and flowers, and finds Dessie and Witchie outside playfully squabbling and practicing their respective magics.

“Good morning, Minori!” Dessie chirps, seeing her approach. “How are you?”

Minori plops down on the giant lily pad. “Oh, I’m alright. How are you two?”

“Practicing,” Witchie replies. She snaps, and a frog appears in her hands, which she presents to Minori. “Look at my new trick!”

Minori giggles, taking the frog in her hands briefly before it disappears into a cloud of glitter-magic again. “How useful.” She turns to Dessie. “What about you? Any new tricks to show me?”

Dessie’s face falls a little. It’s unusual to see the tiny Harvest Goddess frown in such a way, so Minori is taken aback.

“I’m trying to practice controlling the weather,” she explains, crossing her arms over her chest. “I dunno if you noticed, but this winter got a little out of hand.”

Minori scoffs. “Yeah, just a little.” Seeing Dessie’s eyes flash with hurt, she adds, “But surely that isn’t totally your fault, Dessie.”

Witchie snaps her fingers. More frogs appear. One boldly hops into Minori’s lap, causing her to jump.

“The Harvest Goddess is supposed to maintain the balance of the weather,” Dessie explains. “I don’t make the weather, I just nudge it in the right direction.” She sighs, hanging her head. “But I had a really hard time pushing winter away this year. I don’t know why.”

“So we’ve been practicing making thunderstorms,” Witchie cuts in. With a rare bubbliness, she adds, “You wanna see?”

“Maybe not right at this moment,” Minori replies, smiling. “If you conjure a thunderstorm now, we’ll get rained on. Plus, I already watered my crops this morning.”

To stop Witchie from being too disappointed, Minori starts unpacking her little picnic basket. Dessie conjures a pink teapot from thin air while Witchie provides some black cups and saucers. Within moments, they’ve started their weekly girls’ brunch.

“So I heard you’re planning a White Day festival!” Dessie says, her mouth half-full of cheese. “That’s so cute! I wanna go.”

“A White Day festival? Blegh,” Witchie says. She takes a sip of tea. “That’s so mushy.”

Dessie frowns at her friend. “It’s not mushy! Plus, there’ll be lots of food.”

“Oh, well then count me in, too.” Witchie replies.

Minori grins. “Thanks, guys. I’ll be sure to add an extra two when Veronica takes attendance.”

“Why’re you making a White Day festival, anyway?” Witchie asks, munching on a bagel. “Doesn’t this town have enough festivals?”

Minori explains her role in the New Leaf competition to them, starting all the way back from the New Year’s Festival and working through the conquest with Elise, the incident with her wine shed, and the conception of the White Day festival.

“Wow,” Dessie breathes when she’s finished. “It’s been a busy week for you, huh?”

“Got that right,” she replies. Then, a thought occurs to her. “Hey, since you guys are divine beings and all, you wouldn’t happen to know what actually happened with my wine shed, right? I’m pretty sure it was just an animal that broke in, but Elise thinks it might’ve been, like, a person.”

“Definitely a person,” Witchie replies.

Dessie stares at her with wide eyes. “What! How do you know?”

Witchie shrugs. “Oh, I dunno. It’s just more spooky that way.”

“Oh, so you don’t actually know,” Dessie says, relieved. She turns to Minori. “Sorry, Nori — I might be divine, but I’m still working on the whole ‘omniscience’ thing.”

“Yeah, after all, she can barely control the weather,” Wichie teases. Dessie gives her a sour look in response.

Despite their light-heartedness, Minori just sighs. “That’s too bad. Elise sent over her locksmith, and that helped my peace of mind a little, but, like you said,” she says, looking toward Witchie, “it’s spooky.”

A crow caws somewhere in the distance, as if supporting Minori’s statement. She stares into her cup of tea. Could it really have been a person who destroyed her stock of orange wine? But who in Oak Tree Town despises her so much that they would do such a thing? Unless it wasn’t a move against her so much as it was a move to support Elise? If that’s the case, then it would have to be someone who really likes Elise.

She frowns — as terrible as it is, she can’t think of a single person in town who might like Elise enough to destroy her wine shed over it.

“Don’t worry, Nori,” Dessie replies, putting her hands on her hips. “We’ll keep a close eye out for any sketchy people.”

“Oh, that reminds me,” she says, suddenly. “Where are the Nature Sprites? I’ve got a job for them.”

“I’ll summon them. They’ll want some of the flour you brought, anyway.”

She whistles a four-note tune, sounding almost identical to a sparrow as she does so. Within moments, little sparkly puffs of air appear around them, each a different color of the rainbow. From them, the Nature Sprites emerge.

“Minori!” Pepita cries, scurrying toward her. “Hi hi!”

“Didja bring any flour?” Gusto asks. “I’m so hungry!”

Each sprite approaches her in turn, asking what feels like hundreds of questions: where she’s been, how the winter treated her, why is there a new patch in the knee of her jeans —

“Now, now,” Dessie begins, calming the flurrying sprites. “Minori has a job for you all. Perhaps if you do it well, she’ll give you some flour.”

“A job?” Flik asks, his curiosity piqued.

Minori nods. “Yeah. I need you guys to help me find something.”

Torque pushes her tiny glasses up further on her nose. “Like a scavenger hunt?”

“Uh, yeah, actually, kind of like that.” She crosses her arms over her chest, shivering just a little. Though the worst of the winter has passed, the early morning spring air is awfully chilly. “We’re looking for some of Mistel’s blueprints. Someone took them, but I’m hoping it was an accident or that they’re at least still in town.”

“Oooh, yay!” Pepita squeals. “I love scavenger hunts!”

“But we can’t read,” Torque points out sullenly. “How do we know when we’ve found the right blueprints?”

Minori purses her lips. Truthfully, she hadn’t really thought of that. For all of their magic powers, the Nature Sprites are illiterate when it comes to human languages.

“Well, it’ll look kind of like a grocery list,” she finally says, “with a picture drawn at the bottom that has really straight lines. And it’ll probably be written on fancy, thick paper.”

“And the reward?” Gusto asks.

Dessie tuts a bit. “Gusto, you can’t just —“

“No, no, it’s fine,” Minori says, smiling. “If one of you finds the blueprints, I’ll give you an extra-large bag of flour all to yourself.”

At the mention of the prize, the Nature Sprites completely lose it. They clamor over each other, Mora starts to drool, and Gusto immediately disappears into a puff of glitter with only the phrase, “I’m on it!”

Minori mouths the word “sorry” to Dessie, who just giggles at her.

“Hey,” Witchie says as the Nature Sprites bombard her with more questions, her mouth half-full of bagel, “You did this to yourself.”

“But at least now you’ll probably find those blueprints!” Dessie adds, gently corralling the sprites back toward her.

“Thanks, everyone,” Minori says, fixing her hair after having received some tugs from Pepita. As the sprites finally calm down, she starts again. “Alright. So what other questions can I answer?”

Elise’s Manor. Mid-Morning.

By the time Elise manages to drag her hungover self out of bed, the sun has risen fairly high into the sky. It’s at least three hours later than she would normally get up, but with the incessant pounding in her head and the dryness of her throat, she finds she doesn’t mind the late start.

When Jenny comes in to take her dirty laundry, she asks in a groggy voice, “And how is Madame this morning?”

Her servant just shrugs. “Her door is locked and I haven’t heard a word from her since last night.”

A tiny smile plays on Elise’s lips. “Well, no point trying to slip a coin from the dragon’s horde. We ought to let her rest.”

Jenny nods understandingly. “Yes, miss.”

Her eyes flicker to where minou snoozes in a patch of sunlight on the bed. The kitten looks terribly cute; despite the hanging memory of her drunk episode last night, she can’t bring herself to regret adopting the creature.

“Will she be staying in the house?” Jenny asks. “I can ask Gilbert to bring a litter box from the pet house.”

Elise hums. “Yes, that would be ideal.  Thank you, Jenny.”

And thus, the morning proceeds. Elise slinks down to the kitchen in her pajamas, sneaking past Cookie and grabbing a muffin to hold her over until lunch. She guzzles down two glasses of water whilst staring out the parlor window, thinking. Planning. Then, with a somewhat lazy resolution, she starts toward her office to finally get to work.

When she unlocks and opens the door, however, she finds none other than Nadi seated at her desk. Chaton slips through her legs into the room, stalking up to Nadi and rubbing against his legs.

“Ugh,” Nadi says, not even bothering with a greeting. “Cats.”

“Oh, hush,” Elise chides, walking toward him so she can scoop up the kitten. “She’s a darling creature.”

“I don’t like cat hair on my clothes,” he says, brushing off his pant leg.

“And I don’t like squatters in my office,” she counters, crossing to sit in her big leather chair. “How did you even get in here?”

He shrugs. “Jenny let me in.”

She raises an eyebrow. “Really?”

“Don’t blame her, though,” he continues, not looking up from what looks like a landscape draft. “I told her you had given me permission to get some parchment from in here.”

“Ah. Well, you have your paper,” she says, looking pointedly at the scroll he’s writing on. “So why do you remain?”

He shrugs. “Haven’t really moved my stuff back to the Inn yet. Plus, this room has the best natural lighting in the house.”

She can’t argue with him there. The office faces an ideal direction for reading, writing, drawing — any sort of activity for which one might prefer natural light to fluorescent. It had been one of the only things she’d liked about the mansion when she first moved here.

“I can leave, if you want,” he says, sighing. Finally looking up at her. She suddenly notices that he, too, is still in pajamas — though his hair is tied away from his face, a little differently than it usually is. Messier than usual.

She just shrugs. “I see no reason why you shouldn’t stay, if it helps you to work better — as long as you don’t disturb my work, seeing as this is indeed my office.”

He smirks. “Of course, your highness.”

A scowl tugs on the corner of her mouth. She vaguely remembers Nadi giving her that epitaph last night, too. While only some years ago she had dreamed of nothing more than marrying into a noble family, she finds her adulthood goals have changed rather drastically. The nickname is a sharp reminder of her own child-like foolishness.

Perhaps Nadi detects her sudden sourness, because his tone softens when he asks, “How are you feeling this morning?”

She opens a desk drawer. Scoffs. “You mean besides my raging hangover?”

“Besides that, yes.”

She sighs. Sinks back into her chair with a pair of scissors in hand. “Fine, I suppose.”

“Do you, uh, remember what happened last night?”

She looks up at him, but he’s still staring down at his landscape designs. Still, from the way his knuckles are lighter in color from clenching his pen so hard, she can tell he feels nervous asking the question. It’s funny, she thinks, a tiny smile wiling its way onto her lips. He asks the question like he’s a lovestruck man wondering if his partner remembers their drunken affair.

“Well, let’s see,” she says, folding her hands. “Are you asking if I remember Madame’s French temper tantrum, being threatened with the shard of a vase, or adopting a kitten?”

“You forgot throwing up on the floor.”

She glares at him. “You know, you’d be much more charming if you weren’t quite so blunt.”

He kicks his feet up and rests them on the corner of her desk. “And you say you’re self-aware.”

She rolls up a nearby piece of paper and swats his feet with it. “Not on my desk, thank you very much.”

Nadi grins but removes his feet from the desk, moving forward so that he’s leaning over his work again. Though she wouldn’t dare show it, she’s glad that he seems to have let the topic of last night go, for the time being. The episode isn’t exactly what she’d call one of her finest moments.

A soft mew comes from the window sill, and then minou has leapt up onto the desk, taking a particular interest in the bookmark tassel sticking out from one of her farming anthologies.

“So you’re keeping the cat?” Nadi asks.

“Kitten — and yes.” She moves a finger to try and tempt minou to play. “It would be terribly unfair to just return her to Agate. Besides,” she pauses, a smirk tugging at her lips, “Madame is allergic.”

He scoffs. “You’re asking for another fight.”

“Indeed,” she muses, trailing her finger on the edge of the desk for the kitten to bat at. “Perhaps if I pick enough fights, she’ll decide to stay at the Inn.”

“With me for company? I doubt it.”

“Ah, I wouldn’t dare expose you to such torture. If she were to move to the inn, you would continue staying here as my guest.”

He shrugs, but she doesn’t miss the blatant pleased surprise in his eyes. “I have to admit, the natural lighting is a lot better here.”

As if on cue, a beam of sunlight streams in from the window. The white-light lands on a strip of Nadi’s hair, making it glow like snow on a winter morning.

She shakes her head, scooping up her kitten and standing from the chair. “Come, minou. Let’s pick out a fabric for this dress.”

“Is that its name? Minou?” Nadi asks.

“You know, we did have an agreement that you could work here only if you were quiet.”

“I’m just trying to defend your kitten’s honor.”

She clicks her tongue. “Fair.” Keeping minou in one hand, she uses the other to open up her office closet, which has shelves upon shelves of fabric organized by color, material, and weight. “Minou isn’t really a name — it just means kitten in French.”

She doesn’t turn to look at him, but she can hear the smugness in his voice when he responds, “That’s not a name — that’s like if I called Minori farmer, or you self-righteous princess-wannabe.”

“Very funny.” She touches a few different breeds of silky red fabric, and then decides on the ruby tone, pulling the bolt out of the stack. “Why don’t you give her a name, then, if you’re such a master of epitaphs?”

She watches him shrug as she moves back toward the desk. “Whenever I’ve had pets, I name them after flowers.”

“How utterly predictable.” She sets the bolt of fabric — and minou — down on the surface, and then opens one of the long drawers to find a cutting mat.

They fall into an easy silence, Nadi suddenly taken with an aspect of his landscaping design and Elise gathering the supplies to start on Lillie’s dress. Every so often she looks up at minou and wonders about names. Everything she tries in her mind — Blossom, Princess, Victoria — none of the names fit, and she would hate to give the darling kitten an ill-fitting name.

As she starts to cut the fabric, she finally asks, “What flower would you name the kitten after, then?”

He doesn’t look up from his paper. “I dunno. I’m partial to roses.”

She pauses in her cutting. Smiles.

“Rose.” Looks toward minou, and tries the name again. “Rose. I like it.”

He raises an eyebrow. Stares at her, incredulous. “You do?”

She nods. “It has a double meaning — I drank far too much of the rosé that Minori brought to the party last night. If I hadn’t, I probably wouldn’t have agreed to adopting her.”

“Huh.” He raises his pen, as if in toast. “To rosé, then.”

“And to Rose,” she adds, putting down her scissors so that she can rub Rose’s soft little cheek.

Another lull as Nadi returns to his work, and Elise to her dress-making. The design that the girls made for Lillie’s modeling escapade is terribly simple, but, if she succeeds in making the dress correctly — which she no doubt will — it should achieve the goal of making Lillie look rather sumptuous for their humble fashion show. Hopefully, Raeger won’t be able to deny that she’s a catch.

She bites her tongue in guilt, remembering how Lillie’s fascination with Raeger wasn’t the only girlish crush to come to light the night before. Her revealing of Licorice’s feelings for Kamil had — thankfully — only ratcheted up the awkwardness in the room for just a few minutes. When Licorice had come out of the bathroom, she’d avoided eye contact with Elise, but she engaged in conversation with the other girls. Elise didn’t mind taking the brunt of her feelings — and if she’d felt a little bad about the ordeal, she’d drowned her feelings in rosé.

There’s a knock at the door. Elise stiffens.

“Yes?” she asks, careful not to reveal her slight spike in anxiety.

The wooden door opens. Jenny pops her head in. She barely manages to hold in a sigh of relief.

“Miss Elise,” Jenny starts, “Madame Dupont requests your presence in the parlor.”

Elise shakes her head, pretending to be preoccupied with her fabric cutting. “I’m rather busy. If Madame truly wishes to speak, she’s welcome to come here to my office.”

Jenny shifts from one foot to the other. “Um, she insists, Miss Elise.”

Her mouth curls into a wily smile. “As do I — and you may tell her so.”

Jenny nods her head, pursing her lips with a braveness that Elise recognizes all too well. “Insisting” anything to Madame is a task only for the stone-faced.

When the door closes, Nadi asks, “Should I leave?”

“Oh, absolutely not,” she replies, standing so that she can reach across the large desk to grab a ruler. “It will infuriate her that you’re here.”

“Which is exactly why I think I should leave, Elise —“

“Stay, or I’ll fire you.”

He looks like he’s got a biting response ready to fire, but the door to the office swings open with an aggressive creaking sound.

Madame stands in the doorway, terse, poised to pounce. She holds a large stack of papers blackened with typeface. Elise watches as her gaze moves from Rose to Nadi and then finally rests on herself, becoming more pointed.

“P’tite.” The greeting is neutral, except for her eyes, which reveal that she hasn’t forgotten last night’s humiliation.

“Madame,” she replies, setting down her scissors. “Whatever is so urgent that you insist on interrupting my important work?”

She sticks her nose up a little. “If it were truly so important, you wouldn’t still be in your nightwear.”

Elise grins. “It’s a Sunday morning and I have absolutely no plans. Do live a little, Madame.” She looks briefly down at her t-shirt and sweatpants and adds, “Also, in the twenty-first century we call these pajamas, not nightwear.”

Nadi snorts — and then covers it up as a cough. Elise sits back down in her desk chair, kicking him under the table as she does so.

“Pourquoi est-ce qu’il est encore là?” Madame asks without looking at Nadi.

“English please, Madame, or else little Rose here won’t be able to understand you,” she replies, scratching Rose’s chin.

Madame huffs. “I refuse to share the house with that beast for three seasons. You will return it from wherever it came from immediately.”

“Oh, but look at her darling little face,” she says, scooping up the kitten and standing from her desk. “Would you like to hold her?”

Madame’s nose crinkles. “Keep that thing away from me.”

“Gladly,” Elise murmurs, holding Rose against her a little tighter. “Now,” she starts again, mockingly bright, “I suppose you’re going to tell me about that loomingly large stack of papers there?”

Madame puts her weight on one side so that her hip juts out of her pencil skirt, making her upper half look like the Tower of Pisa. “Indeed.”

She strolls into the office and lumps the stack of papers right on top of Elise’s project. It’s at least two feet high, all on standard letter paper. The font is so small she has to squint to read it.

“I’ve decided to be merciful,” Madame begins, crossing her arms in a way that suggests she’s decided to be anything but. “If you’re so insistent on being allowed to participate in the board meetings, the least you could do is some clerical work. Complete these documents by sunset, and I’ll consider allowing you to attend our meeting tonight.”

Elise purses her lips. This is a test, and she knows it — the stack of papers is probably mostly busy work that Madame has concocted for the sole purpose of making her life miserable for a few hours. She’s testing Elise’s resolve.

“Very well,” she says, not uttering a single word about the impossibility of the task considering she also needs to finish Lillie’s dress. “But I request that you leave me alone for the afternoon so I can work.”

Madame’s lips curl into a smirk. “Gladly, p’tite.”

When she leaves the room, the door creaking shut behind her, Elise folds in on herself like a deflating balloon.

“Ouch,” Nadi says, seemingly reading her thoughts as his eyes move to the giant stack of documents. “Is this really worth it?”

“Oh, this is nothing,” she replies, kicking her feet up on her desk in precisely the way she had told Nadi not to do only minutes ago. “When I was thirteen, she locked me in the mansion cellar for a whole day because I wanted to eat pumpkin pie at the harvest festival the next day.” A pause, as she remembers the dampness of that cellar and wonders why she would reveal this particular vulnerability to Nadi. “She, um, said that the hunger I felt would make me appreciate the pie more, but looking back I guess it was a little much.”

He raises an eyebrow. “And your father just let that happen?”

She scoffs. “My father never knew, nor cared. My sister would’ve tried to fight her, I think, but she’d been tasked with giving a handsome ambassador from Silk Country a tour of the city that weekend.”

“What about your mother?”

For an instant, there’s a fire that flashes in her chest at the question. But she sucks a breath in and then forces it out until the flames go up in smoke.

“I need to get started on these documents.”

She removes her feet from the desk and stands to grab the stack of papers.

“But what about your dress?” Nadi asks — thankfully not pushing the topic of her mother again.

“Not my dress — Lillie’s.” She grazes the soft ruby-tone fabric with her fingers, frowning.

Nadi cocks his head to one side like a confused puppy. “Lillie? You mean the weather reporter? Raeger’s girlfriend?”

“They’re actually not dating, believe it or not — yet. Hence the dress.”

“I don’t understand.”

She blows out another big breath, exasperated. “Really, Nadi, you’ll need to be a little quicker if you want to work in this office. Obviously the dress is for Lillie to wear as my model in the fashion festival so that she can use her womanly wiles to win Raeger’s heart. Do keep up.”

Nadi’s brow furrows. “But isn’t the fashion contest in, like, two days?”

“Yes, which is precisely why I need to get started on these finances —“

“Why don’t you let me help?”

Now it’s her turn to look like a confused puppy. “You can sew?”

He barks out a laugh. “No, idiot. The treasury stuff.”

She crosses her arms over her chest, prepped to give a cutting response — but bites her tongue, deciding against it. Scanning the stack of papers again, and then looking down at Lillie’s dress, she realizes he’s right: she doesn’t have time to do both, and she doesn’t really want to choose between the two of them, either.

“Normally,” she begins, slowly, “I would be a fool to allow my landscaper to come within nine feet of important financial documents —“

“Ouch.”

“I’m not finished. However, I do seem to be in a bit of a pickle.” She pulls out one of her desk drawers. “You know how to operate a calculator?”

He rolls his eyes, to which she can’t help revealing a tiny smile. “Yes, Elise. Believe it or not, I had a really great maths tutor when I was growing up. And I do all my own financial work for landscaping, as you know.”

A spark in her eyes. She almost feels embarrassed at selling him so short — not that she’d ever tell him that. “Indeed, I suppose you do.” She covers her feelings by brusquely grabbing the calculator and holding it out to him across the desk. He doesn’t take it.

“Just answer me one thing,” he says, carefully.

“Questions about my mother are off-limits.”

“Yeah, I figured that out a while ago. It’s not about your mother.”

She eyes him carefully. Lowers the calculator. “Continue.”

“Why are you helping Lillie?” he asks, carefully. “You never help anyone.”

The observation should hurt, but it doesn’t. Coming from Nadi, who also isn’t the most socially blessed person in Oak Tree Town, the comment holds little sting. Instead, she sees genuine curiosity in his eyes — and perhaps a touch of pride, too, which for whatever reason makes her cheeks feel suddenly warm.

“I may be cold, but I’m not heartless,” she responds simply. “It’s beating somewhere in there.”

“Deep down,” Nadi agrees, but with a small, contagious smile that makes her stomach flop.

“Oh, stop looking at me like that,” she snaps, shoving the calculator toward him. “You’ve got a lot of work to do if you’re going to finish this clerical work by sunset.”

“We’ve got a lot of work to do.” He takes the calculator. “As soon as you’re done with the dress, you’re helping me.”

“We shall see.”

Nadi chuckles, and perhaps she smiles a little, too, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. Watching him reach for the first paper on the stack, his question turns over in her mind: when did she start doing favors for others? And, perhaps more importantly, when did she start becoming a person others do favors for?

Mid-afternoon. Norchester; the Buchanan Estate.

The Buchanan Estate, with its spire-pointed iron gates and perfectly trimmed shrubbery, sits at the top of a hill in Norchester’s oldest quarter, overlooking dozens of other large mansions that dot the hillside. But none are quite so intricately beautiful in design — nor quite so simultaneously leering — as that of the Buchanan family.

Klaus fiddles with his tie as the limousine driver enters the code at the security gate. He hasn’t seen Todd Buchanan in person in several weeks, likely because he’s been so preoccupied with his campaign. Elections are in the fall, and he has two seasons to win over the majority of the district populace — many of whom are farmers and small town folks, much like the residents of Oak Tree Town.

In his own personal opinion, Buchanan’s superficiality and penchant for greed has no chance with his constituents when compared to his much more humble opponent — but seeing as Buchanan is his employer, he wouldn’t ever dare to say such a thing aloud, especially given his acute aversion to any and all counsel, however well-intended.

When they arrive at the front porch, Buchanan’s butler, a short, stout old man by the name of Baxter, stands at the steps holding two umbrellas: one for himself and the other, presumably, for Klaus. From what Klaus can tell, Baxter is a good and honest man, if a bit bumbling at times.  

The chauffeur opens Klaus’ door, and Baxter holds the second umbrella out for him. Shifting his briefcase to his other hand, he grabs the handle and stands from the car, tipping his hat to the chauffeur as he does so.

“Mr. Schulz,” Baxter greets over the symphony of rainfall. “How are you on this fine day?”

“A little damp, I must admit,” Klaus replies, following him up the long train of marble stairs leading to the estate. “And yourself?”

“Oh, chipper as always.” His bushy gray mustache quivers above his smile. “You’re in luck; Mr. Buchanan is in fine spirits today.”

“Is he?”

“Indeed. Not sure why, though.”

As they reach the mansion overhang, Klaus closes his umbrella. Baxter follows suit, wrapping his up and then reaching to open the door for Klaus.

The first time Klaus ever entered the Buchanan mansion — which must’ve been at least fifteen years ago now, he realizes with a slight pang of existential dread — he had been amazed at the majesty of the grand entry hall, with its two spiraling marble staircases and hallways leading off in every direction. A huge iron clock hangs from the wall in the center of the room; underneath it is a portrait of Buchanan’s family: himself in the middle, accompanied by his oldest daughter, Chloe, and of course Elise, who could’ve only been sixteen or seventeen when the photo was taken.

Many years ago, another portrait hung in its place — one where Mrs. Buchanan stood next to her husband, gazing adoringly in his eyes. But that particular painting had long since been taken down — and now, no traces of Elise’s mother remain in the house, as if she’d never existed in the first place.

Klaus can’t help his sadness every time he sees the new painting. Mrs. Buchanan used to decorate the entry hall with giant vases of flowers. Now, the marble floors are barren; the stairway railings are gleamingly clean but no garlands of white lilies adorn them. The hall smells like dusting spray rather than roses.

“Shall I accompany you to Mr. Buchanan’s office, Mr. Schulz?” Baxter asks like he does every visit, taking his coat to hang on the rack.

And, like every time, he responds, “No, that won’t be necessary — thank you, Baxter.”

Buchanan’s office is on the second floor of the mansion, nestled all the way at the back of the house so that it overlooks downtown Norchester. On most days, the office is host to a beautiful view of the city — of course, Klaus has always thought that it’s easy to think Norchester is beautiful when one looks at it from so far away. Being in the thick of it is another matter, but, to the current government’s credit, they’d come a long way in the last fifteen years preventing further crime in the marginalized and impoverished neighborhoods.

When he reaches Buchanan’s door, he sucks in a breath and then forces himself to release it slowly. Buchanan’s vampire-like countenance doesn’t scare him — not a lot scares him anymore, other than his nightmares. But there is a certain dark-Victorian-poet-meets-modern-technology quality to the office that makes Klaus want to spend as little time in there as possible.

Finally, he raises a hand to knock on the door. A moment passes, and then another. And then the unmistakable bass timbre of Todd’s voice from the other side of the door: “Come in.”

When Klaus opens the door, he’s surprised to find that the office has been completely redecorated — rather than being crammed with old oak bookshelves and looming portraits of old relatives, the space has been transformed to emit a much more minimalistic ambience. Gone are the plush red velvet armchairs, replaced with small, black leather stools surrounding a solid white coffee table.

Buchanan’s desk appears to be the only thing that remains the same — as well as the thick plum-colored curtains, saturated with dust, that frame the window at the south end of the room.

“You’ll pardon the dust, please, Klaus,” Buchanan says, folding his arms over his chest. “I recently had an associate over for tea and she was rather insistent that, given my current political state, my office décor be up-to-date.”

“No, it’s, er, very nice,” Klaus says. He can’t decide if he likes the barrenness of the new look any more than he liked the crypt-like qualities of the old one. “Very chic, I think.”

He smiles coolly. “Your pleasantries don’t fool me.” Gesturing to one of the blacks tools, he adds, “Sit.”

Klaus obeys, trying as hard as he can to perch comfortably on such an uncomfortable chair. He settles with keeping one foot on the ground and crossing the other over his knee.

Buchanan pulls a file out of one of his desk drawers. Klaus recognizes the handwriting in the upper-right corner of the manilla folder — Marian’s notes on his physical state, no doubt.

“So, is there anything of interest going on in Oak Tree Town?” Buchanan asks, hardly bothering to glance over the papers before splaying them out on his desk.

“I thought you’d know, sir,” Klaus replies casually. “I’m sure you’ve heard of Elise’s involvement in the Green Leaf competition?”

Buchanan’s tongue clicks. “Ah, but surely you know my daughter has no official involvement in that affair.”

Klaus hums. He’s known Buchanan long enough to understand that comment. Indeed, Minori won the conquest competition — but how much of that was orchestrated by Buchanan’s desire to keep his daughter out of the Green Leaf competition for his own political gain, he wonders?

“I may be mistaken,” Klaus starts, then, “but the town’s Business Mentor for the competition is Elise’s childhood nanny, yes?”

Buchanan, surprisingly enough, lets out an uncharacteristic snort. “Angélique, yes. I received an especially interesting phone call from her last night.” He smirks. “It seems my Elise has been giving her quite a lot of lip.”

“Respectfully, sir, Elise gives everyone quite a lot of lip,” he replies. A few years ago, he would’ve been afraid to let such a comment leave his mouth. But after so many meetings with Mr. Buchanan, the two have become quite candid with each other — or, as candid as someone like Todd Buchanan can be with his glorified freelance spy.

As he suspected, Buchanan finds this comment worthy of a curt grin. “As she learned from her father, no doubt.”

“Likely,” Klaus agrees.

“In case you’re wondering — which I have no doubt you are,” Buchanan begins, pointedly looking toward him, “it was not my choice to have Angélique installed as the Business Mentor for the town.”

“But it was your choice to install Minori as the agricultural representative.”

He shrugs. “Oh, I rather don’t care who took the title in the end, so long as it wasn’t my Elise.”

And thus Klaus’ suspicions are confirmed. The affirmation leaves a bitter taste in his mouth, and he decides immediately that he won’t ever tell Minori. Not that he would break the confidentiality of these meetings to begin with, but in a theoretical world where he could tell her everything, he still wouldn’t tell her. He isn’t sure how she would react to knowing that Elise was forced to let her win.  

“Well, your marks are above average as usual, Klaus,” Todd says, replacing the contents of the manilla folder and sliding it back into his desk drawer. “I see no reason to keep you any longer than necessary on this dreary day.”

Klaus raises an eyebrow. Usually their meetings go a lot longer. He can’t help but feel like there’s something Buchanan —

“Unless…” he begins, stretching the word and its consequent pause like a piece of bubble gum.

— Ah. There it is.

“Unless?” he prompts.

Buchanan leans forward a bit so that his elbows rest on his desk, perched like a cat waiting to pounce.

“There is a more…delicate matter,” he says, his voice accessing that higher register that he sometimes uses when speaking of such ‘delicate’ matters — usually highly political and questionable in moral nature. “If you’re interested.”

“As long as it’s within my contract.”

He rubs one temple with two fingers. “While the Green Leaf competition is charming in its intentions, Oak Tree Town’s involvement is proving to be something of a wrinkle in my campaign plans. Even though Elise isn’t publicly involved in the competition, Angélique tells me that she wishes to have a private input in their little meetings.”

“Sounds like Elise,” Klaus says, careful to keep his face straight. He remembers Minori saying something about how Elise’s presence at the first meeting had actually been helpful, and not a hinderance, but he decides he’s better off keeping that from Buchanan.

“In any case,” Buchanan continues, removing his glasses and folding them. “If Oak Tree Town wins the competition, it will reflect badly on myself and the town: people will think my connection to Elise is interference, regardless of whether or not she’s publicly involved.” He removes a handkerchief from his coat pocket. “However, if the town comes in last, that would also reflect poorly on me — and on my daughter’s capabilities, as well.”

“What are you proposing, sir?”

“Straight to the point, as always,” Buchanan says, wiping his glasses with the handkerchief. “That’s what I like about you, Klaus — you’re not afraid of being candid. Amidst my war in the Great Game, it’s remarkably…” He takes a deep breath through the nose, then finishes with another cool smile, “Refreshing.”

Klaus decides not to point out that, in complimenting his behavior, Buchanan is once again dancing around the subject of conversation. It’s a game he used to enjoy, but now rather detests — unless, of course, the subject is coquettish in nature. But talking politics with Buchanan isn’t exactly what he might call flirtatious subject matter.

“Well, Klaus, I’m prepared to offer you a generous bonus,” Buchanan says, replacing his glasses on his nose, “if you find a way to have Oak Tree Town place between fourth and sixth in the competition.”

Klaus snorts. “Sir, you know I gave up sabotage long ago.”

“Oh, but my friend, it’s possible you might not have to do much at all,” he says. Brushes a nonexistent bit of dust from his desk. “Tell me: how competent is the Agricultural Representative?”

“Minori? She’s, er…” he struggles to find the right word. If he tells Buchanan his honest opinion — which would be that, given her simultaneous stubborn tenacity and social charm, Minori will likely leave her opponents in the dust — he risks making her specifically out to be a threat to Buchanan. But if he undersells her, he does a disservice to her talents. “She’s, er, capable.”

“Capable, you say?” Buchanan rubs his beard, one corner of his mouth tugged upward. “Do you know her well?”

“Well, I would consider us acquaintances, surely,” Klaus replies. “Perhaps friends.”

“And is she pretty, too?”

“Sir?”

Buchanan raises a newspaper that’s sitting on his desk just enough so that Klaus can see the cover page — the headline reads, Green Leaf Ag-Reps Announced! In the top left corner in tacky font is a column labeled, “ones to watch” — with a candid photo of Minori plastered in the number one spot, beaming as she accepts the blue ribbon at some contest.

Buchanan tosses the paper toward Klaus, who fumbles only slightly before catching it in both hands. He doesn’t have to even glance at the article to know what it says — that Minori far out-ranks his description of “capable.”

“I thought,” Buchanan begins, his voice low, “I was doing myself a favor by denying my daughter entry in the contest. But it turns out I’ve put a far worse beast in her place — a girl who genuinely wants to do ‘good.’” He rolls his eyes. “Do you know how hard it is to buy over those kinds of girls with money or fame?”

“I can only imagine,” Klaus says dryly.

“Thus, my friend, here is my proposal,” Buchanan begins again, lacing his fingers together on the desk. “There’s two ways you can go about this: first, you sabotage the Oak Tree Town team’s efforts just enough for them to come in, at the very maximum, fourth out of tenth place — it’s possible, indeed, that you won’t have to do any sabotaging at all, should this Minori prove a disappointment.”

Klaus frowns disapprovingly. “You know I swore off sabotage a long time ago, Buchanan. I already said I didn’t want to breach my contract.”

“Consider the second choice, then.” He signals for Klaus to return the newspaper, which he does — standing to pass it to him instead of throwing it across the desk. “You court this Minori Awald until she’s so enamored with you that she can’t help but focus on you rather than the competition.”

At this, Klaus can’t help but let out a snort. “Oh, I think you’ll find it would take a lot more than the likes of me to distract Minori from something she’s got her heart so set on.”

“But who can resist a tall and brooding man such as yourself, my dear boy?”

“She’s good at multitasking.” He uncrosses his legs, thinking. “Perhaps the plan backfires. What if she not only wins the competition, but she falls for me in my efforts to court her, as well?” As the words leave his lips, his chest feels warm — a lovely, though fantastical, scenario that would be, indeed. “What would you do then?”

Buchanan smirks. Klaus’ stomach drops. He has a feeling he doesn’t want to hear what’s next.

“Well, I was rather hoping it wouldn’t come to this, but I had Baxter read up on Miss Awald’s background — she has a degree in design from L’Universitaire de Beauchamp, does she not?”

Klaus frowns. “She does.”

“You know, Angélique has some very famous fashion designers in her circle who are looking for new assistants,” Buchanan says casually. He turns his chair just a little more toward the window, so that a quarter of his face is hidden in shadow. “It would be so unfortunate if she were to receive a job offer that begins before the end of the competition — wouldn’t it? Then she’d have to choose between a tiny town in the middle of nowhere and her lifelong dream of being a big-time designer.”

Klaus purses his lips. “Tough choice,” he says, with a hint of bitterness.

“And then this whole town, who seems to rather adore her from what Baxter gathered,” Buchanan continues, “would resent her for disqualifying them from the competition by leaving. Wouldn’t that be a pity?”

There’s a rather interesting spot in the new area rug, Klaus finds, where the pattern seems to have a flaw in it. He tries to focus on that for a moment, ignoring the way he’s gritting his teeth so hard his head might explode.

Buchanan sighs. “The choice is rather simple, Klaus. Find a way to ensure that Oak Tree Town places fourth at the very highest, or I’ll draw Minori Awald away and disqualify them from the competition altogether.” He turns his chair away from the window. “What’s your choice?”

A long pause. The seconds seem to stretch out before him as he considers his options. Would it be kinder, he wonders, to give Minori the option to accept a position as a fashion designer, to give her the option of abandoning Oak Tree Town in favor of her “lifelong dream,” as Buchanan calls it?

But then he remembers their conversation only yesterday — about how she was unsure if she truly ever wanted to leave Oak Tree Town, or if she even wanted to be a fashion designer, or what her future held. Is it wrong for him to not give her the option, or is he saving her the struggle of making such a monumental decision when she is on the cusp of what is sure to be a very important two months of her life?

And what about Elise’s involvement, and the rest of the town’s investment in the competition? Is it fair of him to make the decision for them?

He sighs. He needs to buy himself time. He also needs to talk to Marian about it — the only person with whom he ever considers breaking his confidentiality clause. Only one of the two options Buchanan has given him will buy him any guaranteed amount of time.

“I’ll do it myself, on one condition,” Klaus says, keeping his tone even so as not to betray his intentions.

“Which is?”

“You allow them to place third — not fourth,” Klaus replies. “They deserve a spot on the podium, at the very least.”

Buchanan’s mouth curves into a wily smile.

“Fair enough. I’ll cede that point. Anything else?”

He’s about to deny the question — but then a thought occurs to him.

“Actually, yes,” Klaus says. “I need a cotton candy machine.”

Buchanan’s gaze flickers. Klaus can only see the confusion in his eyes after years of practice. “A…cotton candy machine?”

“By tomorrow, yes. Delivered to Oak Tree Town. Specifically one that looks like it might belong in a 1950’s ice cream social — you know, vintage style.”

Buchanan looks like he might ask questions, but then decides better of it, resting his forehead in his hand with a resigned sigh. “Very well, Klaus. I’ll have Baxter look into it today. Do we have an agreement?”

Klaus nods. “We do.”

They shake hands, and the gears in his mind are already turning.

Oak Tree Town; Trade Depot. Early Evening.  

“You know, I don’t understand why you wore that big heavy coat when it’s finally gotten warm outside.” Lillie stares at her with a suspicious gaze. “Wait…where’d you even get that coat, anyway? I don’t recognize it.”

The Trade Depot bustles with activity. It hasn’t been this busy so close to closing time in weeks — Minori would know, since she comes here usually twice a day, once when the vendors open to stock up on what she needs before the stock runs out and once near closing time to sell all she’s ready to part with. Now that the weather has finally warmed up, she figures that a lot more people are willing to make the hike even though the sun is close to setting.

“Minori?”

“Huh? Oh, the jacket.” She shoves her hands into the pockets defensively. “I’ve had this forever.” Lies. It’s Klaus’ jacket. “I just haven’t worn it this winter.”

Lillie isn’t fooled. Her suspicious stare grows into a big, goofy grin. “Uh huh. Did you buy it when you were two feet taller?” she asks, gesturing to how the hem of the coat brushes against her calves.

“Something like that,” Minori replies, and if she blushes she hides it in the woolen collar of the jacket. “Now come on — you’re only allowed to help me sell stuff if you aren’t gonna ask me weird questions about my wardrobe choices.”

Lillie grins. “What, so you can drag me into being the model for Elise’s fashion show, but I can’t tease you about this jacket that you definitely stole from Klaus?”

“Exactly. And it was borrowed, not stolen, I’ll have you know.”

They’re all giggles as Lillie starts to help unload Minori’s wagon next to Marielle’s stall — and Minori is glad. She was a little worried that after the girl’s gathering the night before Lillie would be feeling nervous, or even betrayed. But if anything, she seems to be looking forward to the fashion festival.

She has to hand it to Elise — it’s a pretty solid plan. There aren’t a lot of ways it can go wrong, even if it doesn’t go right.

“I wonder how Elise is getting on with the dress,” Lillie muses then, setting several bottles of milk down on the ground.

“Hopefully pretty well, though I’m sure she had a rotten hangover this morning,” Minori replies, grinning. “I can’t believe she agreed to take that kitten home.”

“And that she drank so much rosé!” Lillie agrees. “We should’ve invited her sooner.”

“We’ll make up for it — we could make her throw the next get-together, actually. If the eclairs from last night were any indication, I’m sure she’d supply lovely snacks.”

As Minori is dragging some bolts of fabric from the wagon, Lillie says, “Oh, but isn’t that creepy  French lady staying with her? I’d hate to have a party with her watching over us.”

“Ugh. True.”

At that moment, Marielle starts to make her way over. She, too, has followed Lillie’s lead and dropped her heavy fur coats for a more Spring-ish outfit, complete with a straw hat.

“Small load today, Nor,” she comments, observing the wagon. “The farm doing okay? You need any discounts on feed?”

Minori giggles. “No, I’m good — but thank you, Marielle. I’m building my stockpile back up after the conquest with Elise.”

“Oh, ‘course. My bad.” She pulls out her purse and starts to count up some bills. “You know, we’re all really glad you won that. You’ll let us know if there’s anything you need, won’t ya?”

Minori takes the money, pulling out her wallet to organize the change. “Definitely. Thanks Marielle, you’re a gem.”

Marielle winks before turning away, her blue eyes dazzling in the setting sun. “My pleasure, love.”

Just as she’s about to put away her wallet, Lillie grips her arm.

“Ooh, Minori, what is that?” She squeaks, pointing at —

— pointing at none other than the tiny portrait Klaus had drawn of her yesterday, which she had forgotten to take out of her wallet and hide in her nightstand drawer, as intended.

“Oh, uh, just a self-portrait,” she replies, hurriedly zipping up the wallet and stuffing it back in the oversized pocket of Klaus’ coat.

Lillie crosses her arms over her chest. “Nori.”

“Lillie?”

“Why are you so intent on hiding stuff from me?” she asks, still gripping her arm. “We’re best friends. I told you about Raeger!”

“Look, Lillie, if there were anything to say about Klaus, I’d tell you.”

“Ha!” She points a finger at Minori’s face, grinning. “So it does have to do with Klaus! Did he draw it? Ohmigoddess, how romantic!” She puts a hand against her own cheek. “I’m blushing! I’m literally blushing, Nori.”

Minori just shakes her head, grabbing the handle of her red wagon again. “Fine, Lil. Klaus stopped by for a chat in the West Town Park yesterday and he drew a little picture of me while we were talking. But that’s it, I swear.”

Lillie grabs the handle and helps her pull. There really isn’t enough room for two hands, but Minori appreciates the sweetness of the gesture nonetheless.

“What do you mean, ‘that’s it’?” Lillie cries. “Nori, you do realize —“

“Keep your voice down!”

“Sorry.” Quieter, so that not every person in the Trade Depot can easily listen in on their conversation, Lillie continues, “You do realize that for him to draw a picture of you, he had to stare at your face for, what, ten minutes? Twenty?”

“Half an hour,” she admits, digging the toe of her boot into the cobblestone.

“Goddess,” Lillie breathes. “Nori, he’s into you. There’s no way he isn’t.”

Just in front of the welcome desk of the Depot, Minori pulls the wagon to a stop. “Well it doesn’t matter how he feels about me, ‘cause I don’t feel anything for him.”

Lillie smiles. “Liar.”

But Minori doesn’t let up. She keeps her gaze even. So even, in fact, that Lillie’s face falls a little.

“Wait, really?” she asks, her voice lower in pitch. “I could have sworn —“

She sighs. “He’s got a lot of secrets, Lillie. It’s complicated. And with Iris —“

“Iris wouldn’t care, and you know that,” Lillie objects. “She’s not like that. Besides, didn’t you notice the way she was looking at Agate last night? She’s way over Klaus.”

“I know she isn’t, but —“ she cuts off abruptly. “Wait, what? Iris and Agate?”

Lillie looks at her strangely. “I mean — what, do you think I’m wrong?”

Minori tries to remember to the night before. Sure, they were cuddling on the sofa, and Iris kissed Agate’s forehead a few times, and they went downstairs together once or twice, and Iris’ eyes sort of went soft whenever she looked at Agate, like she was looking at the moon —

“Oh,” she breathes. “Wow. You’re so right. How did I not notice? We even had a whole conversation together after you all left!”

“Probably because you drank all that pinot noir,” Lillie teases, bumping her shoulder.

“I had, like, two glasses.”

“Okay, Nori, I counted, like, four, but if that’s the story you wanna tell —“

Their banter is interrupted by a loud call from her left.

“Minori!”

She turns toward the voice — it’s Kenneth, who’s waving her down from his stall. She looks from Kenneth, to Lillie, and then back again.

“Well, go on,” Lillie says, waving her away. “I’ve gotta get home so I can help dad with dinner anyway. But I’m not letting the Klaus thing go — okay?”

Minori grins. Backstepping toward Kenneth’s stall — and taking the wagon with her — she replies, “Wouldn’t dream of letting you forget, Lillie.”

She waves as she leaves. “See you tomorrow!”

“No doubt!” she says, returning the gesture.

Kenneth’s stall is furthest from the Trade Depot entrance, so it’s a bit of a jaunt to get there with the wagon. She probably should’ve brought her horse, she thinks, but she was so eager to finally get some travel on foot now that most of the snow has melted.

“Hi Kenneth,” she greets when she arrives, just a tad breathless from dragging the wagon with her.

“You’re so bundled up underneath all that jacket I almost didn’t recognize you,” Kenneth says, smiling widely. “Why’re you wearing that when the weather’s so nice?”

“Sentimental value, and it smells nice,” she replies. Quickly to cover her candor, she continues, “Um, anyway. Sorry. What can I do for you?”

“Well, I’m in a pickle,” he starts. “My wife’s and my anniversary is coming up next week, and I’d really like to get her this all-natural vanilla-scented perfume she likes to wear, but the farmer I usually get it from passed on recently.”

“Oh,” she breathes. “How horrible.”

“Indeed,” Kenneth says, taking off his hat. “I was wondering if you sell any perfume at your farm? I’d be willing to part with a whole lot of lumber for it.”

She purses her lips. “No, I don’t. I’m —“ She pauses. Mind racing. “Wait. Uh, how much lumber are we talking?”

“Uh, probably eighty logs or so?”

She lets out a long whistle. That would certainly be a huge help in upgrading the safari.

“Okay, Kenneth. We’ve got a perfumist here in town — I’ll touch base with him tonight and see what I can do.” She takes out the mini notepad and pencil she keeps on her for reminders and to-do lists. “When’s the absolute latest I can get you the perfume?”

“A week from today.”

“And you want it all-natural, totally organic?”

“Yep,” he replies. “And just vanilla. None of that fancy flowery stuff.”

She flips the notepad shut and shoves it in her pocket. “Perfect. I’ll figure it out, okay?”

Kenneth beams. “Thanks, Minori. You’re a real lifesaver.”

“No problem!”

As she starts to lug her red wagon to the exit of the Trade Depot, she can’t help smiling just a bit. As much as she was being honest with Lillie — that she really shouldn’t have feelings for Klaus, given his penchant for taking mysterious inexplicable trips to the city — there’s a small part of her that is happy to have an excuse to see him again.

Norchester; The Angèle Hotel; Night.

By the time Klaus returns from the rest of his errands in Norchester, the sun has sunk well below the horizon line. As his taxi pulls up next to the hotel, he can’t help but sigh in relief.

He tips the driver generously, says a quick word of thanks, and then ducks out of the car. A bellhop is already grabbing his bags from the trunk; he nods his thanks and hands them a small tip, as well.

He makes his way into the lobby, pulling out the key access card that sits in the furthest back pocket of his wallet. The little light above the automatic sliding door turns green, granting him entry.

Karen, the night-shift worker, stands behind the desk. When she sees him, her cherry-painted lips part to reveal a perfect white smile. Karen only started working at the hotel two years ago — two years, he realizes with dread; he’s getting old — but he’s always thought she’d be better suited to a more adventurous job.

“And so he returns,” she says, lounging over the counter in a sultry way he’s more than used to by now. “My dark and handsome Silver Suite chevalier. I was starting to wonder if you’d ever grace us with your presence again.”

He smiles, not quite flattered by her flirtatious remarks — mostly just amused. Karen has always been forthcoming in her desires — perhaps too much so for his tastes, if he could be cited as having any specific tastes to begin with.

“I’ve been doing mostly day trips the past couple weeks,” he replies, handing her his access card.

She scans it into the system, as is protocol. With shining eyes, she asks, “No top-secret missions to warrant an overnight stay?”

He scoffs. “Not lately, no.”

Returning the card, she says, “How disappointing. If only you’d come around just three weeks ago; I’d just about worked up the courage to sneak up to your room and propose some midnight lovemaking.”

He clears his throat. “Ah.”

But Karen just giggles. “Oh, don’t look so worried, love. I’ve started seeing someone — you know Angie, the day receptionist?”

“I thought Yolanda was the day receptionist?”

She shook her head. “Retired a few weeks ago, thank goodness, else I’d never have met Ange. She’s a sweetheart — and blonde.” Flipping her long brown ponytail over her shoulder, she continues, “Always wished I were blonde, but I’m alright dating one, too.” With a bit of a softer look in her eyes, she adds, “Ange is gorgeous, and sweeter than anything. I’m really lucky.”

Klaus smiles — genuinely, this time. “I’m happy for you, Karen.”

She sighs, leaning back in the black leather chair that’s far too big for her thin frame. “Yeah, yeah, don’t tell anybody I got starry-eyed, though. I’ve got a reputation to maintain.”

“Of course,” he replies.

The bellhop has long since sent his bags up to the thirtieth floor — they all know where Klaus lives. It’s not like the silver suite ever gets rented to anyone else.

“Well, I’ll let you go,” Karen says finally, smiling at him. “But just because I’m with Ange now doesn’t mean I’m not still dying to know all your dark secrets. Do ring the phone if you feel like sharing, okay?” She leans back even further into the chair, blowing air through her lips like a horse. “Gets boring down here ‘round one AM.”

“Well, I suppose one secret can’t hurt.”

“What, really?”

Leaning closer to her, he says in a low voice, “During the day, I’m a perfumist in a tiny town not too far from here.”

She scoffs. “Ugh. Quit lying.”

He shrugs, smiling good-naturedly at her but starting to collect his wallet from the counter. “I only ever tell the truth, Karen.”

“Only ever tell the truth my ass,” she replies as he starts walking away.  “Sleep well, Bruce Wayne.”

He chuckles. “Have a good shift, Karen.”

The elevator up to the thirtieth floor is made of glass. Just like Buchanan’s office, there’s a built-in window all the way up so that one can overlook the entirety of Norchester as they make the climb. Klaus wonders if Buchanan considered this when he was approving the designs of the hotel or if it was pure coincidence.

The ride takes about a minute, accompanied by soft jazz music. Klaus sighs. As physically tired as he is, he rather loathes the idea of going to sleep. The apartment always feels so empty when he arrives, which just makes his nightmares worse.

The elevator dings, signaling that he’s arrived. He grabs his briefcase and exits into the hallway.

The silver suite is the only suite on the thirtieth floor. It’s not the best suite in the hotel — there’s still five more floors of single suites — but it’s certainly lightyears nicer than anything he could have imagined himself staying in when he was a child. Sometimes he’s still astonished at the grandeur of it all when he walks in the lobby of the hotel.

“Alright,” he says to himself, pulling out his card again. The door clicks unlocked as he holds it up next to the card reader.

Sure enough, the apartment feels as cold as it always does. His little suitcase is just inside the entry. There’s a sticky note from the cleaning staff accompanied by two chocolates on the kitchen bar to his left; he pockets the chocolates and lays a twenty dollar bill next to the note, as he always does.

The air conditioner hums, the surfaces are spotless, the curtains are open to reveal the shining city of Norchester. Everything is as it always is — except —

— except for the landline phone on the coffee table. The answering machine light is blinking green at him.

He raises an eyebrow. Breathes to himself, “What?” Sets down his briefcase, moves toward the phone. No one has ever left a message before. He’s pretty sure the only people who have the number are Buchanan, himself, and Marian — and Marian would certainly call him on his cell phone before calling him here.

Half-cautiously and half-eagerly, he picks up the telephone and holds it to his ear.

“Please enter voicemail password.”

He stops. Checks the little piece of paper taped to the answering machine for a voicemail password. Nothing there.

Sighs. Punches in the numbers: 3-4-7-8. Buchanan’s security gate number.

It works.

“You have one new message.”

There’s a bit of rustling on the other end. Klaus holds the phone closer to his ear, barely breathing as he waits with anticipation to hear who somehow got a hold of this number.

Then:

“Hi, Klaus! It’s Minori. Minori Awald. You know. From Oak Tree Town.”

He smiles. He does indeed know Minori Awald from Oak Tree Town.

“Uh, I tried stopping by your house but you weren’t there — but Marian was on a round nearby and gave me this number to call you at. Sorry if I’m intruding. I know you’re in the city — and you’re probably coming back tomorrow, so I don’t know why I didn’t just wait until then to tell you, but, whatever, here I am.”

His knees feel a little shaky, so he decides to sit on the couch behind him. There’s a warmth blossoming in his chest that he doesn’t even try to withhold.

“Anyway, okay, so I’m just calling because one of the Trade Depot vendors needs some vanilla perfume — and I was wondering if maybe you could help me with that? We can talk about it in more detail when you get back, but I thought, like, I’d give you a heads up in case you need to buy some supplies while you’re in the city.”

A good call, he thinks — he’s out of vanilla extract, but he’ll be able to pick some up before his return to Oak Tree Town the next day.

“Well, um, anyway. I started thinking about what I might put in my White Day picnic basket — if you find me a cotton candy machine, I guess I could be persuaded to throw some bouillabaisse into the mix.”

His stomach growls at the thought. Minori made him bouillabaisse once, for his birthday the year before. It had been absolutely delicious, but he hasn’t dared to ask her for some again out of fear of seeming desperate.

“Well yep. That’s, um, that’s everything! I’ll see you tomorrow, hopefully, unless you get back late — then maybe not, because I go to sleep, like, super early. Who’s the old geezer now? Anyway. Yup. Well, bye!”

The line clicks.

“End of new message. To delete this message, press seven. To hear this message again, press star.”

And despite what transpired in his meeting with Buchanan earlier in the day, despite the gnawing feeling in the back of his mind that falling further for Minori Awald will only lead to complications — he presses star.