#oh my god i just clicked on the tag section and got reminded by all my past tags

[canesshuga]

wonderful nothing by glass animals.................soooo real

[cyberball]

the gears finally turn

leo valdez x reader / no pronouns used \ requested

warnings: nothing???? lmk if anything comes up

summary: an update on the reader’s phone finally gets the gears of their head turning, and it leads to a thing or two

genre: fluff ig. why can’t i write anything else

notes: so if u have a samsung/android phone um. just pretend i wrote that instead this is very self indulgent sorry . again gif has nothing to do w the fic sorry and thanks

18:19 / 337 words

“I swear to all gods, Apple is the worst company ever made. All of their products end up breaking-”

“Didn’t you say once that you wouldn’t be caught dead with anything but an Apple device?”

“Oh, shut your mouth!” You groan. You had been trying to free up storage for so long, but no amount of apps, pictures, and chats were enough for your outdated phone.

Just then, a miracle happened.

You have still not given up, and check your Settings app one last time. “Last time, swear,” you swear to no one but your disappointed friend, Leo. “Y/N, you’ve been saying that for the past hour.” he reminds you, to which you roll your eyes.

You ignore him and check the ‘Software Update’ section. Staying absolutely silent, you click the Install button on the iOS14 update, scared that if you start cursing the app out, you might jinx yourself.

To your surprise, the Settings’ icon’s gears start turning. The godforsaken phone would be of some use, at least.

You fell back on the bed in Bunker 9, and got up as soon as you touched the mattress.

“Leo, Leo, Leo! The update is installing!” You squeal, jumping into his arms. Laughter from both of your mouths spread across the small room.

“Leo, I’m so happy I could kiss you!” You say, jokingly.

“Go ahead, then.” He responds, smiling.

You stare at him, as a smile of your own forms.

“Seriously?” you say, moving towards him.

He doesn’t respond fast enough.

You have been anticipating this for so long. Ever since you got closer, he was all that occupied your mind. You could never take your eyes off him; his smile, the way his eyes closed when you made him laugh, when he linked his pinky with yours, all that and more was just enough to draw you in and drive you crazy.

You take the smile on his lips and the way he leans in as a yes.

Leaning in, he captures your lips in his.

tagging: @drvrslcense (send an ask to be tagged in my fics!)

[starsinmylatte]

Tease (1/2)

Reader is fed up with the lack of attention from a certain Grand Admiral. To force his hand, she decides to send some pictures to tempt him while he's away, but things don't quite go as they were planned.

Pairing: Grand Admiral Thrawn x f!reader

Rating: Explicit (18+ only)

Tags/warnings (for part 1): lingerie, m@sturbation, slight dom/sub undertones

AO3 link here

Author’s note: Here’s the smut I promised! I’ll either post the second chapter tonight, or a different smut prompt partially inspired by @pala-din-djarin ;)

Let me know if you enjoyed it <3

Ch’eo ch’itiseb- my sweet

In the beginning, the plan was to tease your lover ever-so-slightly. Grand Admiral Thrawn had been away from the Chimaera for a week, and you were in no mood to be the last person in line for attention upon his return. Sady, Thrawn had been so busy the week before his departure that he had very little time to spend with you.

As a Commander, you, of course, had your own duties to attend to in his absence, but there was no denying you missed his touch a little more than usual during the unrelentingly long week. It was more than understandable for Thrawn to be busy; he was a Grand Admiral, after all, but it couldn’t hurt for you to remind him exactly what he was missing……

You would never do anything to jeopardize his ongoing mission. Still, he was just on Coruscant visiting the Imperial Palace, and you weren’t exactly above sending some choice pictures to him through an encrypted communication line. Did you know exactly what you were doing by putting on the fine, lacy lingerie he had gifted you but never got the chance to see? Absolutely, but then again… that was the whole point. You wanted him to feel exactly as desperate for you as you did for him.

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

As you slipped the final stocking into place, you couldn’t help but smile at your reflection in the mirror.

Ah, this should do nicely.

Red, lacy lingerie, which perfectly matched the shade of your lover’s eyes, trailed across your skin like flames. The bralette was mostly sheer, but it offered the perfect amount of support and framed your décolletage in a way you knew Thrawn would find delectable. The matching panties hugged your hips and were partially hidden below a thin belt made from the same lace, which circled your waist and connected to the stockings in the front and back.

You laughed mischievously as you turned to see how the outfit looked from the side reflection in the large mirror, “Oh, this should definitely work well.”

The stockings themselves rested perfectly on the soft swell of your upper thighs, a place you knew Thrawn loved to kiss and mark as his, and they framed your ass beautifully. You were beyond resplendent, a piece of art that he couldn’t have, and you were going to use it to tease him as much as possible. However, if you were actually going to do some real damage, the pictures needed to be convincing.

“What better way to make this authentic than to do it in his bed,” you mused out loud. Fortunately, the datapad could both take and encrypt the pictures, so all you had to do was prop it up on the bedside table and set the photo timer.

The setup was fairly easy for the first few pictures, but all your ideas for poses were running out before long. Then, another exciting thought crossed your mind.

I’ll just set it to video! I can freeze and save sections of it as the pictures; that’ll be absolutely perfect.

You reached up and set the datapad to the necessary specifications before returning to the edge of Thrawn’s bed. Taking the pictures had been building sensual anticipation under your skin, and it went straight to your core as you imagined your lover’s reaction to them. Just the thought of Thrawn, breathless with want and worlds away from having his hands on you…. Well, it was more than enough encouragement for you to hit the record button on the datapad.

The silken black sheets on his bed caressed your soft skin and added another layer of sensation to your already stimulated mind as you lay back down among them. You took a deep, tentative breath in; Thrawn’s intensely masculine scent seemed to be everywhere. It completely surrounded you, drawing you further into the seductive depths of your mind and triggered vivid memories of all the ways he’d taken you on top of them.

One such memory was his powerful form pressing your back deep into the sheets, fucking you at a relentless pace, and worrying the tender skin of your neck with his teeth. Another was of Thrawn bending you over the edge of the bed, pinning you in place with his strong arms as he ravished you from behind, all while whispering filthy sentiments in Cheunh into your ear. Finally, your memory turned to his head dipping between your thighs to drink you in as he drew his true name from your lips like a prayer to some forgotten god….

You glanced to the side, and the mirror on the opposite wall showed a glimpse of just how beautiful you looked, displayed like a prized possession in the middle of his bed. No extra persuasion was needed for you to begin trailing your hands slowly and sensually over your curves. You lightly traced down the bothersome seams of the lingerie, following the path Thrawn’s own hands would’ve taken, before resting one hand at the apex of your thighs and placing the other on the ample swell of your breast.

By this point, the self-sufficient, capable Commander of the Chimaera was all but gone. Your breathing was ragged with desire and coming in short bursts; you would’ve willingly torn the world apart if it meant Thrawn could be in the room. It was all too much. Thought of him, his scent, his imaginary voice in your ear commanding your every move … Your cunt absolutely throbbed with desire. Arousal pooled between your legs, soaking through the lacy fabric and drawing a needy groan from your lips. With a gaze half-lidded and hazy from lust, your head lolled to stare directly into the camera, and you pleaded like it would bring him to bed, “ Thrawn….. please….”

You were so far gone that you hadn’t even noticed your hands were moving of their own volition. At the utterance of his name, two fingers pushed aside the interfering fabric and slipped deep inside your cunt; the other hand pinched down hard on a peaked nipple. Your back bowed off the bed, and stars danced behind your eyes as a broken moan fell from your mouth.

At this point, heady lust had completely taken over. Gasps and cries of pleasure rang out in the silent room as your fingers moved to circle your clit, driving you closer and closer to a shattering climax. You screamed Thrawn’s name when you came, digging your fingers deep into the sheets and searching desperately for stability as the intense orgasm rocked your body.

You stopped the recording on the datapad and laid still for what felt like an eternity as you tried to regain your senses. Finally, you were recovered enough to actually retrieve the datapad from the bedside table. The screen had gone dark, but when you brought the device back to life, something wasn’t quite right; the video was nowhere to be found.

As you checked through all of the possible places it could be, your stomach did a flip as you finally realized what had happened. The video was set to send automatically after it was filmed, so when you hit stop……

One quick glance at the message history confirmed your theory. However, you were so much more preoccupied with the flashing notification button. With a trembling finger, you clicked on it, and an audio file popped up. Thrawn’s voice, usually so soft and collected, was now heavily accented and barely concealing a feral tone, “Ch’eo ch’itiseb, you know you really shouldn’t tease me like this.” He sounded ready to eat you alive.

Sith hells, you were in trouble.

Tagging some friends: @handbaskethell @mittheresabosen @pala-din-djarin @pretty-with-andorian-shingles @bluecynadi

[ezwhump]

Let the Cat Out of the Bag - pet whump, pet-sitting, pampered pet, introduction of characters 

“Explain it to me again.”

“Aw, fuck off, Farhan.”

“No, seriously!” Farhan spat a seed shell into the solo cup and  took another swig of his beer. “This woman puts an ad in the fucking paper, for christ’s sake, asking for someone to what? Look after her kitty cat?”

He buckled over, eyes creasing, and barked out a laugh. 

“No you got that exactly right, man,” Gregor let his mouthful of warm beer dribble back into the bottle and set it down on the table. “She’s got some sorta terminal illness, says she won’t be home enough to look after it, yeah? That’s where I come in.” 

Farhan snorted and rolled his eyes. “Yeah but she could just sell it though. Get some dough before she croaks.” He leaned over and snatched the paper off the table. “Pet-sitting. Fucking hell. I can loan you the money, you know.” 

When Farhan got serious he got fancy, started picking up his ‘t’s, shortening his vowels. Offering money. It made Gregor raise his hackles. 

“When you think about it, it's not a bad gig. I get to fuck around in some OAP’s house all day and I get paid for it. If I do a decent enough job maybe I get in on the will.”

Farhan shook his head, flipping to the sports section of the paper. “You’re a fuckin’ vulture, man.”

Gregor smiled to himself and drank his warm beer anyway. Farhan didn’t really understand, it didn’t matter what the job was, it mattered what the pay was. And he’d do pretty much anything at this point (except become Farhan’s charity case), so long as food got put on the table and the bills were paid, even looking after some geriatric’s pet. 

Even if he was allergic to cats. 

--

The car pulled up a few streets away from the old lady’s, and Gregor opened the passenger door. 

Farhan leaned over and rolled down the window. “You got your cell?”

Gregor patted his jean’s back pocket. 

“Right, good. Wallet, keys?”

“Fuck off, Farhan.” Gregor was getting irate, jumping on the spot with his hands in his front pockets. It was too fucking cold outside for chit-chat, he wanted to get into the warm house and start eating. 

Farhan laughed and cranked up the window with a “right, right”. 

The house was in a cul-de-sac of luxury townhomes, redbrick with intricate railings and a courtyard with a fountain. Gregor was suddenly very aware of his ratty sneakers and DIY buzzcut. He spat into the bushes and rang the doorbell, stopping short of shouting up to the closest window. It seemed like the sort of place where people would stop and stare if you spoke too loudly, and god forbid he caused a kerfuffle and the police were called. 

He patted his pocket for his dab pen and rolled it between his thumb and finger while he waited to be buzzed in. 

“Katz residence.” 

Gregor jumped and turned to the intercom speaker on the side of the doorway. He pressed the little purple button. 

“Uh, hi. It's Gregor. Enache. I’m here for the pet-sitting gi- job.” 

He waited for a moment, wind whipping inside his jacket and making him shudder. Then the intercom buzzed and he heard a lock click, so he took his cue and went inside. 

After processing the excessive grandeur of the lobby, Gregor took the elevator up to the top floor. All the hallways were cream with soft white lights in sconces and glittering from chandeliers. The floors were marble, and Gregor almost laughed when his soles squeaked and tracked dirt if he scraped them hard enough. 

There was a soft tinkling music coming from somewhere and all the doors were painted a deep plum colour with gold handles. The whole place smelled like sweet perfume. Part of Gregor wanted to break everything just to check if it was real (especially the little statues on the antique tables), part of him wanted this whole place to be preserved in resin so he could stare at it forever, but he mostly just wanted to see if there were price listings for any of it. The pawn potential made him lightheaded. 

“She’s gonna pay you,” he reminded himself, stopping at door 19 and rapping the golden knocker. It was shaped like a cat. 

  A boy answered the door. Well, not really a boy, though he seemed younger. He looked around Gregor’s age, 22 or so, but they were leagues apart. 

He had pearl-blonde hair that stopped at the base of his throat and his lanky frame was a little taller than Gregor. He was wearing a long-sleeve shirt and slacks made out of the same muslin fabric, but his feet were bare and clean. 

“Pleased to meet you Mr. Enache.” A woman’s voice called out from the guy who stepped aside silently to let Gregor in. 

Salma Katz was sitting on a white lounge sofa in a skirt and blouse, her legs crossed at the ankles. She wasn’t geriatric by any stretch of the imagination but she did have an air of vulnerability around her, like something was wrong and she was using every vice at her disposal to hide it. It showed in the way she picked at her nails or kept tucking back her blonde bob. 

“Hi.” Gregor stood dumbly in the entryway, eyes darting to all of the fanciful objects littered about the place. Little markings of money, of privilege. He felt sort of trapped. “Um, so where is the little guy?”

Salma was blinking sluggishly, and Gregor couldn’t help but compare it to when his mom had gotten hold of Farhan’s Vicodin after his dental surgery last month. Hazy, drugged up. It was probably painkillers or something. 

“There are a few things I should go over before I leave, but just in case there’s a list on the refrigerator.” She gestured for Gregor to sit and he did, slumping into the love-seat across from her, a glass coffee table between them with a small vase of peach roses in the middle of it. 

“I’m very invested in the comfort and safety of my pet while I’m enjoying treatment, and thus very meticulous. . . about who watches him.” The boy had taken a seat on the floor in front of her lounge chair, and Gregor had to drag his eyes back to Salma. 

“Right. Well, I mean, why put it in the paper then? Any dickwad off the street could come in.” A humoured smile lit up her face, and Gregor caught himself. “Uh, with all due respect, ma’am.”

Salma laughed, an airy, unbothered sound. “Well, just prove to me that I made the correct choice young man, and we won’t have a problem.” Her eyes trailed Gregor up and down and he tried not to squirm, setting his jaw and meeting her eyes. They glinted. “Now, Leander has a particular diet which I included on the list. I presume you can cook?”

Gregor nodded. He’d had to learn a long time ago. 

“Wonderful. Taking him outside the apartment is discouraged, however we do have a balcony if you’ll be needing to smoke or he needs fresh air. He takes a bath most nights, and you’ll know what to wash him with. Oh, and of course if you need anything from him all you need to do is ask.” 

“It’s trained?” Gregor felt his eyes widen, impressed. Cat’s weren’t usually trained, but he should’ve figured given the context of the whole situation. 

“Indeed he is. Now, I wouldn’t want him to get lonely, either. He has his own room but he does enjoy company. Would you be available to watch him five days a week?”

Gregor thought for a moment and nodded. He’d cover his bases, pay his dues, on the weekend. And besides, pets didn’t really require all that much effort. 

“Perfect. Does 7-12 feel appropriate? Of course we’d provide you with adequate food, a bed, transport, and whatever else you require to perform your duties.” She was talking slowly, like she was trying to coerce a wild animal into a cage, but Gregor wasn’t going to complain. Living in a place like this all day, free food, a fucking car, and all he had to do was refill a food bowl and wrestle it into a bath sometimes? He felt like he’d stumbled upon a get-out-of-jail-free card. 

“Sure, no problem.”

Salma smiled again and smoothed her hand along the boy’s hair, standing up and gesturing for Gregor to do so as well. Gregor tried to keep the incredulity from showing on his face. 

She reached out and took Gregor’s hand, clasping it briefly and then turning back to the boy. Gregor looked around again for a tabby, a persian. A fucking tiger. 

Salma ushered the boy forward, and he stood graceful and silent in front of Gregor, avoiding eye contact. 

“Mr. Enache, this is Leander. My pet.”

--- 

I’m taking a short break from Russ & Lennon, but hopefully you guys will enjoy reading about Gregor & Leander as much as I enjoy writing them :) I’m starting up a new tag list for these two so if you’d like to be included pls just let me know! <3 - ez 

--

tag list: __ 

[p-artsypants]

The Ghost of Smokey Joe (6)

St. James Infirmary

Adrien Agreste was acting bizarre. Before she can get the truth out of him, Marinette finds herself as the sole heir to the Gabriel brand and the mansion, following the murder-suicide of both Adrien and Gabriel Agreste. The mystery continues as Tikki explains that Adrien was Chat Noir...but if Adrien is six feet under, why is Chat Noir still running around?

Relationships:

Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug

Alya Césaire/Nino Lahiffe

Characters:

Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir, Alya Césaire, Nino Lahiffe, Nathalie Sancoeur, Gabriel Agreste | Papillon | Hawk Moth

Additional Tags:

Temporary Character Death, Murder Mystery, off screen murder, Ghosts, Supernatural - Freeform, Haunting, Horror, Psychological Thriller, Eventual Happy Ending, I promise, Song fic, Halloween Flavored, Identity Reveal, Aged Up, Canon Universe, Mabel Voice: He's Resting, SPOOOKKKYYYYYY

Ao3 | FF.net

--

The night of the visitation, it rained. Like a kick to the gut, a painful reminder of what it was like to fall in love…now was only a soothing presence to losing love. 

The old umbrella in her hand didn’t help either. It was his. Adrien’s. The very same he gave her that day over ten years ago. 

Marinette had agonized over what to wear for too long. It was a wake, so black, right? She had this outfit picked out and everything. A sharp blazer over her little black cocktail dress, with black pumps. Even though it was a wake, it was a wake for her boss, one of the most influential fashion moguls in the world, and she would be taking his place. She had to look her best. 

But then, she changed her mind. It was a social event, yes, and she would be in the public eye and representing the brand, true! 

But it felt gross. 

The cocktail dress was too sexy for a wake, and wearing that much black made her look goth. 

It just wasn’t right. 

Then she saw the dress. A rose pink, knee length dress that flared out as it went down. It had little black polka dots on it. 

And it was Adrien’s favorite. He said so every time she wore it. 

Too peppy for a wake. Too casual, too fun and flirty. But a black cardigan over it, and she felt perfect. 

She could almost hear his voice as she posed in the mirror. 

“I love that dress on you. You look so cute, Marinette.” 

It made tears spring to her eyes. 

So no makeup then. Because she knew she would be crying a lot more tonight. 

“Don’t forget to pack tissues,” Tikki reminded, helpfully.

“Right, thank you, Tikki.” She tucked the little package in her purse. 

With one last pass of the brush through her hair, she was ready. 

So now she stood outside of the manor, the gate open. 

Well folks, I'm goin' down to St. James Infirmary

See my little baby there

She's stretched out on a long, white table

Well she looks so good, so cold, so fair

The paparazzi stood nearby with their cameras, ready to swoop in like vultures. 

She must have paused for too long, because they descended on her quickly, shoving mics in her face and asking questions. 

Didn’t they know why she was here? Didn’t they know what she was going through?

An arm reached around her shoulders and started leading her forward. “Alright everyone, that’s enough! Can’t you see she’s not in the mood?” Her rescuer shouted. 

The reporters didn’t pass through the gate, as that would have been trespassing. So thankfully, the crowd was left behind as they moved forward. 

“Thank you,” she said to the unfamiliar man. 

“Of course, Miss Dupain-Cheng.” He nodded. 

“You know me?”

“I know of you. Head intern to Gabriel Agreste himself, if I’m not mistaken. I’m from Harper’s Bazaar.” 

“Oh...a reporter.”

“Yes, but I really was just here as a guest to pay my respects. I’ve interviewed both Gabriel and Adrien a few times.”

“I see.”

He led her into the house.

Let her go, let her go, God bless her,

Wherever she may be,

She will search this wide world over,

But she'll never find another sweet man like me.

She was early, as Nathalie had instructed. No other guests were here. Just funeral staff, some family, and two steel caskets.

Two steel closed caskets.

Might make retrieving Adrien’s ring a bit of a problem, but not seeing his face…cold, motionless, and waxy would keep her somewhat sane. 

The man walked with her right up to the casket, the one with Adrien’s picture next to it.

“It’s a shame. That much skill, the absolute genius spread between the two of them. The world as a whole will never be the same.” 

“Yeah.” 

“Any idea what’s going to happen next? Not that this is an interview, I’m just curious.” 

She shrugged, “well, I’ve been offered the position, and everyone wants me to take it...but it’s so…”

“Overwhelming?”

“Yes.” She rested her hand on the casket. “I wish I could have a moment alone with him.” 

“Let me see what I can do.” He smiled, then he called louder, to the room. “The lady would like a few minutes alone, if possible.” 

“Is she family?” A staff member asked. 

“This is Madam Dupain-Cheng, she’s the successor to Gabriel’s empire. She’s practically family!” 

There was no arguing with that, and the group of staff members filed out into the adjacent dining room. 

“Thank you,” Marinette called to the man, still not getting his name.

“Don’t worry about it darling.” And he followed them out.

Marinette glanced around the room, just to make sure she was alone. “Tikki?”

“I’m here!” 

“I need you to keep watch.” The casket had two doors, one on top that would have been open if this was a regular visitation, and one over the legs. She slid the flower arrangement on top over to the bottom section and ran her hand over the edge. She pulled up slightly, and as she feared, it was sealed. 

“It’s locked,” she lamented. 

“Let me try!” Tikki zipped around the casket, and a moment later, it clicked and the cap opened ever so slightly. 

Marinette took a deep breath as her fingers curled under the lip.

“What are you waiting for?” 

“Just…I don’t want to do this. I don’t want to see what he looks like. I don’t want to…” but she put her reservations on hold, and pushed the lid up. 

She choked out a startled gasp. “Oh no…” 

Now, when I die, bury me in my straight-leg britches,

Put on a box-back coat and a stetson hat,

Put a twenty-dollar gold piece on my watch chain,

So you can let all the boys know I died standing pat.

Instead of the mangled body of her true love, there was only a pile of sandbags. 

Tikki, also horrified, went over to Gabriel’s casket and phased inside. Then she popped out, “this one is the same!” 

Marinette closed the lid and moved the flowers back into place, her mind moving at a mile a minute. Vaguely, she heard the click of the casket as Tikki put it to rights. 

Marinette was panicking, but quickly calmed herself down. This didn’t mean anything malicious, not yet. Maybe they were cremated and the family wanted to keep it a secret. Or because there’s no graveside service, their bodies had already been buried.

Who was she kidding, something was definitely going on. 

A mystery that was just aching to be solved, but her first priority was to retrieve Adrien’s ring. 

“--A moment alone!” A voice shouted from the dining room.

Marinette whirled around in time to see Felix storming towards her. Did he know? Was she caught?

He brushed past her, “move.” And went directly to the casket, grabbing the lip like she had. 

“Please sir! You’ll damage the casket!” One of the funeral home staff rushed and grasped Felix by the shoulder. “It’s shut and locked, it can’t be opened again.”

“I didn’t get to say goodbye!” Felix snarled. “Look at him!” He pointed at the photo on display next to the casket. “He has my face! I deserve to see him one last time!” 

“Sir...he doesn’t look like that anymore. It would be very disturbing to see his remains.” 

Disturbing indeed, considering Adrien wasn’t in there at all.

Amelie was quick to join the group and she consoled her son. “We talked about this. You knew it was going to be a closed casket.” 

“They said the family had time alone. I just...wanted to say goodbye, face to face.” He shook his head and scowled. “He deserved that, at least.” 

Marinette made herself small, feeling like an intruder in this family crisis. But Amelie still saw her and brought her in for a hug.

“How are you holding up, dear?” She asked, pulling away slightly. 

“I’m…I’ve been better.” 

“Of course, I’m so sorry for your loss.” 

Marinette had met Amelie and Felix more than a few times working at Gabriel. As the years went on, they came to visit more and more often. Amelie was always insistent that she call her ‘Aunt Amelie’ like Adrien. It felt weird to break the habit now. 

“Isn’t pink a little too festive for the occasion?” Felix bit. The red from anger in his cheeks had faded. Now he just sounded bitter. 

It was Adrien’s voice…but not. It was a shame Felix sounded so much like him. 

He looked just like him too, minus the slicked back hair and glasses. 

“Adrien really loved this dress,” Marinette whispered. “I know it’s not—I just—“ 

His face softened slightly, relieved that she had Adrien in mind, and not fashion. “Sounds fine to me.”

Even after the disastrous first encounter they had, Felix and Marinette never became friends. He and Adrien certainly got along, or at least appeared to, but Felix and Marinette were only ever cordial. 

It was a wake, after all. He should be nice. He gave her a small smile, one that looked eerily similar to Adrien’s.

Before she could stop herself, she was hugging him. 

He didn’t smell like Adrien at all. He smelled like clean cat litter and laundry detergent, not spicy cologne and the smallest hint of cheese. Belatedly, she realized the cheese smell was probably Plagg’s doing. 

“Uh…” He said awkwardly, before sighing and patting her on the back. 

“I’m sorry,” she pulled away. “Even though…” she trailed off with a blush, embarrassed with what she had done. “You just look like him.” 

“I know,” he shrugged. “I worried about coming. I’m prepared for people to see me and burst into tears. Or hug me, like you did. I get it. As much as I would like otherwise, I’m willing to tolerate it for today.” 

“That’s kind of you.” 

His face softened further. “You loved him, didn’t you?” 

Amelie gasped. “Felix! You can’t just ask things like that!” 

“It’s okay,” Marinette assured, hugging herself. “You’re right. I was—am. I still love him, even though he’s gone.” 

“And…you know what happened?” 

She nodded. “It sucks. And I really wish I could allow one terrible action to wipe everything away…but I knew him. These last two weeks he wasn’t himself. He was cruel to me in a way I had never seen. It just…it wasn’t Adrien.” 

Felix gave her a critical look. “I always assumed my cousin couldn’t hurt a fly. It’s…bizarre, what happened.” 

“It’s not public knowledge,” Amelie reminded. “And it should stay that way.” 

“Who are we protecting by lying about it? The ‘Brand’? The family? Adrien himself?” 

“What are they saying, anyway?” Asked Marinette. 

“They’re saying both Adrien and Gabriel died from an in-home accident.”

“Vague,” said Felix. “Suspicious.” 

“But better than ‘unknown causes’ at least,” said Marinette.  “Maybe it’s selfish, but I want Adrien to be remembered for all the good he did…” As Chat Noir, her brain added, “and not the demons he faced in the end.” 

“Still, I can’t help but wonder what made him snap,” he mused, looking at Marinette. “Do you have any idea what may have caused it?” 

Her mind went back to two weeks, when he had asked her to dinner. He was nervous, and told her he had something to tell her. 

And then that phone call a few nights ago. What had he said? Something about the basement?

“I’m…not sure. I’d have to think about it.” 

“Perhaps you two could consider this mystery another day? Not during the visitation?” Amelie urged. 

“Sorry mom, you’re right.” He glanced back at Marinette. “If you have anything on this, I’d love to hear it. I care deeply for Adrien, and honestly, I’m highly suspicious of these circumstances.” 

Amelie huffed. “Darling, you heard Nathalie, what she saw, what the police found, it’s pretty cut and dry…” 

“People don’t just murder their father’s for no reason! Especially with supposedly flawless mental health!” 

The room grew quiet, as Felix’s outburst was louder than intended. Thankfully, guests had yet to arrive. 

“Sorry. This whole thing…I’ve had enough of death in this lifetime.” He cleared his throat. “I need some water.” 

When he left, Amelie squeezed her shoulder. “Don’t let Felix get to you. It’s just hard for him. He has so much in common with Adrien, it’s a little scary for him.” 

Oh. That made sense. Fear he’d snap too? 

“It was sudden for everyone. We’re all going through it.” 

“They said you were having a moment alone with Adrien. I'll let you get back to it.” She squeezed her shoulder and left her in peace.

So now Marinette was left to wonder what she could possibly do. Where to even start? She didn’t need anymore time with an empty casket. 

An' give me six crap shooting pall bearers,

Let a chorus girl sing me a song.

Put a red hot jazz band at the top of my head

So we can raise Hallelujah as we go along.

There were a few more guests now, but it was still a little early. She saw a man in a suit arranging flowers. He had a name tag on his lapel. 

As casual as she could, she snuck over to him. “Excuse me, are you the funeral director by chance?”

“Oh? Yes I am. Bill Hunkerson, at your service. How can I help?” 

She had to phrase this very carefully, to not be suspicious. “I’m a very close friend of Adrien’s. He was wearing a silver ring when he died. It doesn’t actually belong to him, and I was wondering if I could have it back.” 

The man turned pale, but plastered on a smile. “Well, he’s probably wearing it now. Unfortunately, after we close the casket, we can’t open it again.” 

She knew that was a big fat lie. And Marinette hated liars. 

She lowered her voice. “Well, since his body isn’t actually in the casket, it shouldn’t be that hard, should it?” 

The man stared at her, wide eyed, no longer smiling. “How did you—“ He frowned. “Look miss, I’m just doing what I’m paid for. I don’t know anything. That ring is probably gone forever, and I’d stop this search now.” He straightened his tie and bowed his head slightly. “If you’ll excuse me.” 

Marinette opened her purse when she was alone. “I don’t know about you, Tikki, but I’ve got a bunch of red flags and alarm bells going off inside my head.” 

“This isn’t good! We need to get that ring!” 

“We need to find out what happened to Adrien’s body!” 

“Yes, of course, that too!”

Marinette gnawed at the inside of her cheek. “Hey, no offense to Plagg, but wouldn’t he know to bring the ring back to me? If he can’t remove it, then wouldn’t he come tell me about it?”

Tikki’s eyes widened. “You’re right! If he died under normal circumstances, yes…but if he was transformed when he died…”

“Then what?”

“Plagg probably would be forced back into the ring. That’s probably why he didn’t come!” 

“Now I’m even more worried and confused.” Marinette crossed her arms. “What if Adrien isn’t actually dead?” 

“What do you mean?”

“What if…he ran away? And Gabriel made it out like he died? What if Gabriel’s still alive too?” 

“It’s a theory, but I don’t know how well it will hold water.” 

She studied the room again, trying not to draw attention to herself. She was supposed to be grieving after all. 

Felix sat in the chairs over by the stairs, his back to the growing crowd. 

Even if they didn’t really get along, two skeptics working together would be better than each on their own. 

“Do you mind if I join you?” She asked. 

“I suppose not.” He sighed. 

Marinette sat in the chair next to him, and sat quietly for a moment, trying to decide how to proceed. She didn’t want to reveal her whole hand, but maybe playing a few cards would be to her advantage. 

Felix beat her to it. He let out a weak chuckle. “I hate this family.” 

What an awful thing to say at wake. “Why’s that?” She asked calmly. 

“They die too quickly. It sounds so awful, I know. But it’s just my mother and I now. Grandparents are long gone, then my Aunt Emilie, then my father, and now them. It sucks and I’m sick of stupid funerals.” 

“It must be hard. I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, well...I’m a pro at it now.” He was resting his cheek on his hand, and was staring at the corner of a wall, just pointedly avoiding eye contact. Still, she could see he had red in his eyes. Though she chose to ignore it. Felix seemed to be the type to hide his tears. 

“You know...the last time I talked to Adrien, he told me to check the basement.” 

This piqued Felix’s curiosity enough for him to look at her. “Basement? What basement?”

“I suppose here, but I haven’t had the chance to, since you know…all this going on.” 

“That doesn’t make any sense. I used to come to this house all the time. It doesn’t have a basement.” 

“So…maybe at the company?”

“Could be. I wouldn’t know.” 

“Okay, I just wondered...since you were family…” 

He growled. “Yeah, some family.” 

“Do you...want to talk about it?” She offered, really hoping he would take the bait. 

He chuckled again, no humor in his tone. “Might as well, no one around left to hide things from.” He leaned back in the chair. “Gabriel is...was a very private person. I tried to love him, since he was my uncle, but he did a very good job at keeping us at a distance. Adrien was the opposite. We talked often, even when his mom and my dad died and things got rough. Sometimes, it didn’t feel like we were welcomed here. But Adrien so wanted a connection. I could feel it in his hugs when we visited. He was starving, Marinette.” 

Marinette willed herself not to start crying.  

“Mom and I were told by Nathalie that Adrien and Gabriel were caught in a murder-suicide, as enacted by Adrien, early in the morning on the 23rd.”

“Did she tell you where the murder-suicide happened?”   

“Nope, just that it happened in this house. As the only living relatives, she asked if we could come and help with the funeral arrangements.”

“Were you involved in all of it?”

“I thought mom and I did all of it together, but there was one thing that Nathalie insisted on and wouldn’t budge.” 

“What’s that?” 

“Gabriel is going to be interred in the Agreste family mausoleum, but Adrien…” he sighed with disgust. “As punishment, he’s getting an unmarked grave.” 

“What!?”  

“That was the compromise. The truth about the murder-suicide, which I am believing less and less, would be withheld from the public as long as Adrien was…effectively erased from the family line.” 

She couldn’t help the tears that burst forth. “But that’s not fair! He didn’t do anything wrong! He couldn’t’ve!”

“Yeah kid, I know. I agree.” He scowled. “It makes me sick. I hate it. Adrien was suffering in life, and now he’s going to suffer in death.” 

“You don’t think he did it?”

“Do you?”

She shook her head. “I can’t. I know what’s been said, and what people saw...but it just can’t be true.” And she had evidence to prove it, in the form of that empty casket.

“You won’t mention I said any of this to my mom, right? She’s also having a hard time, but she tells me I’m in denial.” 

“I won’t say a word.”  

Folks, now that you have heard my story,

Say, boy, hand me another shot of that booze;

If anyone should ask you,

Tell 'em I've got those St. James Infirmary blues.

--

I’m not sure about next week’s update. I’m going camping and I don't know what the wifi will be like. Fingers crossed!

[impala1967dwinchester]

Dean Winchester: Fly

*credit to gif owner* 

Pairing: Dean W. x Reader 

Pov: Reader 

Warnings: Flying, Dean, flirting, daydreaming on the readers part. 

Summary: How much can really happen during one flight? 

WC: 1.4k 

Masterlist

Tags: @akshi8278​ @deanswaywardgirl​

I have flown many times, but nothing beats the day that I met Dean. He was and still is a flight attendant for Delta airlines.  

With the way Dean looked you'd think he'd be the only flying the plane. His broad shoulders, bowed legs and strong arms.  

I could tell, hell anyone could tell just how much that damn Delta uniform didn't fit him. And when I saw didn't fit him, I mean, if dean in a slightly wrong way you'd get popped with button.  

Seams flying loose and his entire outfit falling off of his pleasant body shape. The first time I had seen was when the attendants and pilots were boarding the plane.  

I could just barely from where I was sitting see his jaw line. It was one to die for, I can say that.  

He never looked in my direction thank the lord for that, because well if he had. I would have been caught staring.  

Theres a saying 'I hate to watch them walk away, but I love to watch them leave' Well fuck in a whole phrase it described Dean. The way his bowed legs made his ass stand out.  

Regardless of that fact, coming up behind him in the early morning as I watch him make coffee for the both of us. Smacking his suit covered ass with a huge pop that it scares him just a little bit.  

I sat there in my stupid little sear waiting for my flight to board as I daydreamed about coming up behind him, a man that I didn't know his name.  

I looked around myself, and then again back up to him. “Nope, no trash you need to take from me, Thank you for my water.” I said still in a hushed voice. He just smiled and yet again that precious attention was off of me again.  

I was regrettable pulled away from my lustful fantasies when I hear the older lady at the front desk of my gate start to speak.  

"We are starting boarding." I tried my hardest to settle myself down again. 'Settle down, y/n.' I said to myself. I had never in my entire life lost myself in a blissful daydream like that before.  

I arose from my seat and scurred to the line. As I came into the plane after wandering the very tight and maze-like tunnel to make it to the plane.  

I noticed that there was no, handsomely dashing beautiful jawed bone man looking at me. I held my disappointment in and made my way to my seat.  

Unfortunately... that sounds like a bad word to describe it. Greatly for me as I set my thing in the overhead compartment. It just wouldn't corporate. In less than a few minutes I could feel a rather comforting, warm, and secure feeling on my right side.  

"Do you need help ma'am?" The presence said to me. I just barely looked over my right shoulder. I took an audibly deep and loud sigh in, before letting myself speak a word to him.

There he was, the bowed legged, jaw line god, strong and muscular arms, broad shoulder. When I didn't respond he simply asked again. "Ma'am are you alright? Do you need help?"  

A squeak was all I said. I must have looked pathetic, god. A fucking squeak that's all you got y/n, come on. "Ma'am, I can help." He spoke.  

I moved slightly out of his way. Well, if I'm being honest, I just ended up sitting down. As I sat down ai watched him. I stared at him.  

The slight tug of his arms as he shifted my bag in the overhead compartment. The Delta navy shirt just ever so rising.  

The way his bowed legs were far apart from each other, he didn’t need to be standing on his tip toes. He was already taller than I was.  

I'd say maybe six feet tall. A flex and he shut the compartment, his jaw flexing as he did so.  

Was he trying to tease me?  

Because if so, he was fucking hitting the nail in the head. Every movement and everything he did was hot.  

It does seem like I'm objectifying him. I'd like to think that I'm just stating facts. Sitting down our captain came on to the overhead speaker of course he was talking about the normal things he has to tell passenger.  

Dean stood at the front of the plane between first class and the other section of passengers. Showing us our belts, and breathing mask.  

And then it was over. Our pilot came back onto the intercom, "Hi, I'm your pilot Taylor, copiloting with me today is Sean. And our two wonderful flight attendants are Reba, and Dean. If you need anything give a shout and Dean or Reba will help you. We will be starting our ascent now. Enjoy the flight."  

I stuffed my things below the seat in front of me and leaned my head back. Taking a deep breath, and getting ready for the plane to take off.  

What seemed like only a few moments we were off the ground and I was tapped on the shoulder, opening my eyes wide to yet again see Dean.  

"Ma'am would you like a drink for your trip?" He asked with a cart in front of him. I looked at the cart and then back to him. Repeating this process only a few times before answering him.  

"Umm. A water is fine. Thank you." I said shyly. "A water coming up." And then he winked at me. Handing me my water bottle and bringing his attention to another passenger.  

In just that little ole interaction I had felt so much peace and quiet. It was amazing to be the center of his attention for only a few seconds.  

Taking sips of my water before screwing the top back on. I let my head fall against the headrest of the seat. I again took a deep breathe trying to regain any bit of sanity I had left.  

After that interaction there wasn't another one until the end of the flight when he came back over asking me; " ma'am do you have any trash?"  

I don't think he realize he had awakened me from my sleep until I let out a small shriek. “Ma’am are you alright?” “Oh yes I’m fine.” I spoke in a hushed voice trying not to bother others on the flight. “Ma’am I was just wondering if you had any trash, you needed me to take from you?” He spoke

I only smiled. The intercom came back on and reminded me that I wasn’t the only the person on the flight. “We are starting out descent. I hope you enjoyed your leisure on this flight.” And then the intercom clicked off. Breathing deeply, I was excited to reach my destination.  

The flight reached the ground and I grabbed my things from under the seat in front of me. I let others go in front of me, knowing that my bag in overhead was going to give me an issue. Just like before there was warm presence was next to me in a few minutes of me standing up to go reach my bag. “Do you want help, Ma’am?” That silky damned voice hushed into my ear.  

A shiver ran down my spine. I bit down on my lip before turning to look over at Dean. “I could use the help.” I said giving him a timid smile. He reached up and grabbed my bag, and again that thought of his seams popping out and having that damn Delta suit fall right off of his body gave yet another shiver down my spine.  

“Here you go, Ma’am.” He said handing me my bag with a wink. I walked out of the plane, and into another maze-like tunnel to make to the exit of my gate. I walked out of the gate, and to the doors of the airport. I breathed in and a short smile crossed my face.  

When I made it to my hotel after a long cab ride, I was given my key card and scanned it into my room. I set my bag down on my temporary bed. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a white slip of paper. Picking it up with a curious look on my face.  

Completed on: 03/27/2021 

It read: “Hi, my name is Dean. You already know that, but here’s my number, chat with me when you get settled in to your hotel, well wherever you’re going. I thought you were pretty shy, but all shy girls have dirty minds.” With a winky face drawn off to the side of the slip.  

A huge grin covered my blushing face. I guess I had to message him and I have a huge tell.

[timextoxhajima]

HOSTIS, Chapter IV: Vetiti Fructus In, The Forbidden Fruit

Previous Chapter (III: Aemulatio)

Member: Lee Hyunjae (tbz)

Genre (by chapter): angst, drama, comedy

Category: Short Novel/Long Series

“why am i always one step behind you?”

the black rim of the file glistens under the light hanging above the table on your left. translucent curtains were drawn behind and next the the oversized L-shaped couch you were laying on, legs stretched out and laptop sitting on a cushion on your lap. 

the white table was strewn about with freshly printed sheets of data and research you managed to collect in the last week. 

it was day seven of your ten days being mentored by doctor choi. the welcome-party was to be held at the end of the month, not the coming weekend. 

something about the team that was responsible for handling newcomers not being able to host it because everybody was busy... something along those lines.

you didn’t bother noting the reason for a delayed party when the more pressing issue was getting that research file out to doctor kim before lee hyunjae did, and with better content. 

throwing your head back against the pillows, your eyes naturally travel along the ceiling to the glass doors beyond the sofa, lining parallel to your position. the faint dots in the sky above takes you back to the first time you went stargazing with your father. 

you remember your mother didn’t go because she was too busy. 

the brain-juicing brightness off the laptop screen starts to yank on your attention, and you sigh at the sight of the word ‘oncology’. you already did the research online and whatever doctor kim had provided you, and it wasn’t too difficult a task to imagine that lucifer probably had the same type of content written down for that last section as well. 

the frustration empties itself from your chest in the form of a loud groan while your fingers travel to your forehead. 

the only thing left to do was this stupid oncology section, but how were you going to outdo lee hyunjae? sure, the rest of the research report would already be different; every pocket of free time you found in between your rounds with doctor choi, you were working on it. lee hyunjae was nowhere to be found either during those free periods, so what else would he be doing besides filling up the research report?

there was no more room for your own research and understanding of oncology to beat him. you were a neurologist after all, not an oncologist. 

why did doctor kim even include the oncology section when he knew it was going to be difficult for me to get the information?

“arghhhhhhh--” your vision flashes white for a split second at the sudden sitting up, and you place your laptop down off the cushion. the rug covering the living room floor brings comfort to your toes as you stood up and ran your fingers through your hair. 

the painful, but satisfying memory of what happened pre-med school starts to roll in your head like an old VHS tape. the look in lucifer’s eyes when you had him against the locker, the only thing stopping you from driving a test tube down his throat were the long arms of law. 

otherwise, it was sweet, almost diabetic, to watch him crumble and lose to you despite him being the fire starter. 

but then again, you lost the first boy you ever loved because of lee hyunjae. 

you couldn’t even convince yourself that you won.

the VHS tape in your head starts to burn and disintegrate into ashes while the nostalgic fire lights up in your chest, and the thought of losing to him four years ago made you want to get that oncology section done.

your inner ares picks up the file and flips to the last page where the word ‘oncology’ was printed in big, block letters at the top, followed by a bunch of details and information with hypothetical questions listed down. 

the left brow on your face twitches and the muscle movement felt so eerily detached from you, a surge of unstoppable desire erupting inside you like mount vesuvius in 79 AD. 

if you could possess a single power right now, it’ll be pyrokinesis. 

~

the light shining into your office was so bright and warm, it would’ve been a crime not to talk a walk outside. 

you would’ve, but not today. 

lucifer’s office door opens and closes and you notice him heading off in the direction of the washroom, and your peripheral vision captures the oncology page of the hospital website on the computer screen. 

after waiting it out for a safe period of time, you adjust the white coat to hide the color of your breast pocket (where the color differentiated which department you were in) and shoved the staff ID card down the back pocket of your jeans. you grab your file, phone in hand and the gears in your head start to churn out some smart excuse in case anybody were to question why you, a newcomer, looked like you were about to go for a meeting. 

you head for the lift, fingers dancing around while you searched for the floor that connected the east wing over to the north. 

you were already beginning to recite that excuse you built in your head in case doctor kim runs into you while you were walking through the north wing. 

but zeus must’ve decided that one half of his sons deserved some love today, for you run into zero staff who didn’t pay attention to the absence of your staff ID around your neck.

your eyes follow the signs to the west wing, and that was where you started to notice people you really haven’t seen before. 

the atmosphere changed once you got to the office level where all the oncology doctors would be, and most of the staff looked like they had been working without a wink of sleep. 

your vision and attention start to dart around the hallways and doors, trying to look for a name tag on a door that said ‘shin ga hyun’ or something along the lines of oncology research archi--

there we go.

the words ‘research facility’ printed in block letters on the door of the room looked like the word ‘victory’ in another language, and you could only thank zeus for being so kind to you today. 

the lab coat on you and the file case you were holding was enough to prove that you were a staff here, so even if shin ga hyun were to find out you were in her wing, there was nothing she could do about it besides get mad at you for “losing your way while searching for research content”.

the staff ID card slides out from your jeans so you could give yourself access to the dark room, and you notice the only view in was through the little window on the door itself. 

once the door was open, your first step was to get it closed, regardless of whether your eyes could adjust to the orientation of the room. 

relief floods through you, and you quickly wonder why you were so scared of something that wasn’t even illegal. 

a small snort runs through your nose at the thought that you were scared, because frankly, there wasn’t much that could scare you anymore. maybe sometimes, just sometimes, the only thing that could scare you was yourself.

the scent of old paper and files fill your nostrils with every drawer and cabinet you opened, and you start searching for documents with information to grant you access to the oncology database, but not one single sheet of paper satiates your thirst to win. 

your heart was already zipping back and forth in your chest, and the emptiness of the room only reminds you that anybody could come in anytime. your eyes look around the dimly lit room and you note the gap between the lockers behind the desk and the wall where you could run and hide in case someone came in--

“...yes, ga hyun, everything regarding the department’s database have been shifted to your office.”

the pupils on your eyeballs shrink in a second and something similar to a heart attack tears through your chest at the name. the footsteps halt right outside the door and you close the drawer with such calculated strength to prevent yourself from slamming it shut. your heels turn towards the corner and it takes you three incredibly large steps to get you there.

but everything happened so fast that you didn’t even register the fact that you got pulled into that little corner. 

you would’ve rammed your knee so high up this man’s groin if he wasn’t going to scream like a fucking baby if you did. 

“what the fuck are you doing here?!” he mouths angrily at you, ears red and cheeks flushed with fear when the door of the room clicks open. 

“are you sure everything related to the database has been cleared out this room?” shin ga hyun sounded like she’d slit your throat and show no signs of remorse.

“what do you think?!” this silent conversation was going to warrant you a reason to punch him in the face later.

“yes, doctor shin,” the second voice sounded so dead and unbothered, you imagine it had to be someone of a more senior position than shin ga hyun for her to talk to the department head like that. “there may be a few stray sheets here and there but if they weren’t filed properly in the first place, then it’s highly likely they weren’t too important.”

“don’t fucking touch me!” his arm brushes against your shoulder and if you could scream, it would’ve deafened him.

“if you hadn’t come in, we wouldn’t be stuck in this shitty little gap!” 

your eyes widen at his sudden stoppage of mouthing, and you could hear the little breaths coming out after every consonant. 

“will you shut the fuck up?!”

“so you mean to tell me that there is a slight possibility that an important sheet of paper regarding our database is sitting around somewhere inside this room?”

“how can i shut up when i’m stuck in this godforsaken space with you?! i don’t even want to fucking breathe the same air as you!”

oh my fucking god, will he fucking shut his trap-- we are going to get caught--

“oh, my god,” an exasperated sigh fills the room. “ga hyun, you really need to take a chill pill.”

“don’t tell me to ‘take a chill pill’--”

“if you didn’t walk in here like you owned the fucking place, i wouldn’t have touched you!”

your index finger flies up to your lips and you beg him to shut up with your eyes.

but this piece of dumbshit-doctor doesn’t fucking get it--

you had a victory to claim, and you were not going to let him take that away from you. 

the ares inside you wraps your fingers around his face and shoves your lips between his, but your eyes were still wide open, looking out at the glass on the cabinet on the other side of the room to see a taller female trying to drag a shorter female out of the office. 

“you need to take a chill pill. the entire hospital is scared of you, honey. don’t you want to amend that?”

the scanner beeps, and the door clicks open. 

“if nobody’s done anything wrong then there’s no reason for them to be scared of me.”

“fair, but you need to start wearing a smile on your face more often!” the door hisses shut, and the footsteps start to move away. “i’ll get someone to check the database stuff for you then...”

ares leaves your body and your soul gets sucked back into its rightful place, and you don’t think you’ve shoved anyone, or anything for that matter, faster than you shoved lucifer off your face.

wincing in disgust, the back of your hand wipes the corner of your lips as a frown hardens on your forehead, and lucifer was busy sticking out his tongue like he had just eaten something spicy.

“son of a bitch,” the hiss seethes through your teeth as you walk out from the gap, deliberately running your shoulder against his left arm. “don’t you ever assume that i would let the thinnest strand of hair on my body touch you.”

the wrath and rage drips off your tongue like saliva while you walked, turning your head and looking over your shoulder to glare at lee hyunjae. 

“and don’t you ever fucking kiss me again!”

your staff card was barely inches away from the scanner when the words start to eat at your ego. 

“for your fucking information, i did not want my lips to be on yours,” you take two big steps to him who was walking towards you in a fit. “someone just didn’t know how to keep his mouth shut.”

his breath was hitting your cheek rapidly, and you jab your tongue against the inside of your cheek, trying to claw your way through his self-proclaimed glare that he probably thinks scares you off. 

your suck your lips between your teeth and scrunch up your nose with effort, your right hand instinctively deciding that it was a good idea to shove him backwards before you left the room. 

throwing yourself into your own leather seat in your office and the beads of sweat on your forehead coming off onto a tissue, your eyes plaster themselves to the ceiling. 

mission failed.

not only that,

i had to kiss this motherfucking son of a bitch to shut his fucking ass up.

the tissue gets crumpled in your grasp at the thought of underestimating him, and you hurl the lightweight ball barely a metre away from you. 

doctor choi brings you on his final round for the day, and happiness was as simple as finding out that lucifer had been called to handle some boring admin work by the hospital administration because he screwed up somewhere in the system. 

the round was longer than expected, with one of doctor choi’s alzheimer’s patients talking to you about his childhood. doctor choi tries to steer you clear of the patient, worried that you were uncomfortable. but the stories he was telling you brought you back to a time when your parents were still pretty prominent in your life. doctor choi just leaves you with him until the nurses bring around his medicine as a distraction, providing you with a chance to leave before the patient keeps you for the night.

the evening sun paints the floor a tangerine shade, through the glass doors of the offices. and in your hand was the black file with such reluctance and bitterness that you wish you didn’t agree to this whole research department thing in the first place.

most of the research department officers and doctors had evening duties to tend to before they left, so it was pretty quiet and desolate once you reached doctor kim’s desk with the idea of submitting the research report. 

yet the sight of the blue file strikes up a flame of confusion and suspicion. laying down your black file, your fingerpads brush over the cover of the blue one, and ares returns to whisper seductive motivations in your ear. 

you run through the pages, not surprised that most of the data was different from yours, but nothing could’ve prepared you for the five-thousand-word-long report behind the oncology cover sheet. 

motherfucker.

he must’ve found one of those ‘stray sheets’ for the database while he was snooping in the room. 

red bursts of revenge and hatred start to rush through your veins, and you pull apart the rings of the file to remove the ridiculously long report. 

the papers were messily stuffed into your work case and you return the file back to its original position, in time for doctor kim to return to his cubicle.

“ah, i was waiting to see if you were going to submit it today!” he gleams at you, and his warm, elderly aura comforts you, peeling you away from the horrible deed you just carried out. 

“well, yeah... but i have to confess, i didn’t do much for the oncology report at the back.”

“i was already expecting that after i warned you about doctor shin! but nevermind that, i look forward to reading your report.”

“oh but, uh...” you rub the back of your neck. “have you looked through doctor lee’s? it looks pretty thick.”

doctor kim’s palm finds the two files and he shakes his head. “oh, nope. he just gave me this wide smile and told me to read his file like i was reading a book. his confidence is really something else.”

oh, thank god.

“i see,” the sugary taste of satisfaction rubs itself into your taste buds. “i hope we didn’t let you down, doctor kim. we really worked hard on it.”

the smile doesn’t leave his face, and he only gives you a small pat on the shoulder. “i will look forward to reading both reports.” he nods, and you take your cue to bow and bid goodbye. 

~

your living room was barely lit up with the only source of light being the one from the kitchen, and the gentle chirps of crickets outside were muffled through the sliding doors of your living room.

the wine in your glass was practically frolicking about with your little dance of triumph of the day. though part of the reason why you were drinking wine was to force yourself to forget that you kissed lucifer -- ew --, you were also drinking to celebrate. 

“well,” you pout at the little cactus that sat in the middle of the table in your living room. “he should thank me for removing it. doctor kim could figure out that he only got the information from snooping into the oncology department and he could get trouble for it.”

talking to yourself wasn’t a daily routine, but you just couldn’t resist the temptation of convincing yourself that you did nothing wrong. 

which in fact, you did not. 

but the competitiveness seeps through your bones and makes your stomach churn with regret and displeasure again, when the realisation sinks into your head. 

why am i always one step behind you?

with a contorted look of discontentment staring back at you in the reflection of the wine glass, you lift the rim to your lips and down the rest of it like they were shots. 

“i should’ve known he was going to do it,” the wine bottle calls out to you like a siren, and your fingers wrap around the cool, glass surface. “if i did it sooner, i might’ve gotten the fucking database information--”

knock knock

you berate zeus for sending a visitor at such a shitty time, throwing your head backwards and squeezing your eyes shut. 

knock knock knock knock knock knock

“ugh, mom! i told you not to visit me on a weekday!” the release of the wine bottle only fills your stomach with disappointment as you trudged towards the door. 

with enough frustration to fuel your grip around the handle, you yank the heavy door open.

“mom, what are you-- oh.” 

shit.

flares of aching poison start to pierce their way into your eyes upon the eye contact, and your knuckles whiten with the tightening grip on the handle of your door. 

“you’re gonna wish it was your mom, alright.”

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

Chapter V: Monitum

[black-streak]

Saturday night's alright for fighting (but Sundays are meant for rest) - Settled

Part 14.

This is the last official chapter for this. Anything else will be random snippets I come with (also willing to take requests) but this is technically the end of the plotline, folks. It's been wild. Thanks for the support!

Tags: @emjrabbitwolf @mystery-5-5 @worlds-tiniest-spook-pastry @fandomkitty8 @dast218 @silvergold-swirl @shizukiryuu . @my-name-is-michell @kurogaya913 @elspethshadow @thecatnipmademedoit @shamefullove @ladylucina28 @crazylittlemunchkin @rayray384 @cassiejaydee @yuulxd @ladysblackcat @naclychilli @caffeinetheory @persephonebutkore @fertileleaf @hypnosharkrebeldreamer @weird-pale-blonde-person @st0rmy-w1th1n @littleblue5mcdork @dudet @naoryllis @disneyfoxuniverse @lordsmeldingtonthethird @taoiichii @resignedcatservant @iloontjeboontje @a-fan-fighting-for-equality

~---~

Today had been normal. Completely, bafflingly normal. Tim had pulled himself away from his computer to drive to work in the morning, dealt with the mundane process of working a board meeting into his favor, left for the manor, transferred a compiled section of files over to the mainframe down in the batcave for review, had dinner with the family and went separate ways before patrol that night.

Imagine his surprise to walk down to the cave only to find everyone already present and accounted for and more ominously, staring him down. Surely they hadn't planned another sleep intervention? Sure he skipped the last two nights, but he had made great strides of improvements in the last three-ish months! They could not expect a lifelong habit to change in such a short period of time. Dammit, he needed coffee if this conversation was to happen.

Turning on his heel, he started back up the stairs only to feel a hand grab his shoulder and pull him back towards the family. He saw faces come into his view one at a time as he was dragged past and promptly dumped into the chair at the Batcomputer. The hand belonged to Jason, who glared down at him and kept the same hand against the chair by his head.

"You want to explain yourself?"

No nicknames or playful digs. Something was very wrong indeed. Tim blinked up at him until he saw Dick in the background, face dark and twisted in a mix of confusion and anger, pointedly staring at the computer past his shoulder. Following his gaze, he saw one of his laptop files opened up on the desktop; specifically the file dedicated to Marinette, pictures of her splayed out for all to see, little comments and captions taking up the spaces between. And okay, that was mildly embarrassing, but not too far off from what one would normally expect from him concerning his girlfriend, right? So what seemed to be the problem? Well, besides that it obviously didn't belong on this screen. Turning back to the others, he blinked up at Jason who hadn't moved. Actually, he seemed to only grow more irritated.

"Ah, sorry, hadn't realized this file ended up in the compiled folder I sent over. I'll take care of it."

The fist by his head clenched harder.

"You'll take care of it? That's all you got to say for yourself?"

"Yes..?"

"Nothing about the fact that you're obviously stalking, Marinette? Nothing to explain the horrific amount of her privacy you obviously violated? How fucking creepy this all is?"

"Wait, wha-"

"Tim, you have to realize how bad this looks. Just explain to us why you have a file on her," Dick spoke in a faux soothing voice, taking a step closer only to be stopped by Bruce, who remained silent through the encounter, though obviously waiting for an explanation as well.

"Of course I have information about her on my laptop? Why wouldn't I? You know I have files on all of you, right? It's kind of what I do."

"We've seen the files on us. They're nowhere near as detailed or extensive. You're hyper fixating on Marinette," Bruce spoke slowly, as though trying to get Tim to put it together himself.

"So?"

That, apparently, was the wrong thing to say.

"The point is that it's creepy, Tim!" That was Dick.

"You fuckin pervert, you don't see anything wrong with taking pictures of her while she's sleeping?!" Jason.

"I thought perhaps you two had just found a common point of comfort in the naps, but perhaps I should have separated the two of you. You've obviously become attached to the point of obsession." Bruce.

"She's Damian's girlfriend, Tim, how could you?" And Steph- wait, what? Stephanie?

That's when it clicked. That's when he noticed Damian standing off from the rest, expression closed off, but humor hiding in the glint of his eyes. Stephanie stood a little off to his left, voice hard and accusing, but face barely holding back a gleeful, biting expression. 

Oh god, the bet.

Wide-eyed, he turned back to Damian, "They don't know?"

He shook his head.

"But after Stephanie found out?"

He shook his head again.

"Found out what?" The hard voice of Dick brought him back to his current predicament.

"I could have sworn I already told you," he muttered to himself, "you know that Damian-"

"Tim." Damian's sharp voice cut him off, reminding him of the parameters of the bet. Which left the question of what was worse, pissing off Mari and Damian simultaneously or dealing with his clueless older brothers and father figure right now. Yeah, he'd take his chance with the latter. Wait, was Cass behind him? 'I'll still take that risk.' He couldn't help but think.

Turning back to the steadily growing impatience before him, he sighed, "I thought you already knew."

"So what, you've been trying to steal her from your little brother? And thought our silence on the matter was approval? Of course we didn't know you were taking creep shots of her!" Jason shouted.

"They're not creep shots if she doesn't care."

That only threw them for a loop for a half second.

"She couldn't have realized the intention was this, Tim! And it doesn't make it right! She's with Damian!" Dick growled out.

"Says who?"

"What?"

"Damian has never said as much. Who's to say they are?" Tim worded carefully, never outright stating who was or wasn't dating, only asking who confirmed the information.

"You know they are, stop deflecting," came from Bruce.

"Did you ask them? Because I did. You should too."

That seemed to throw most of them off and he saw Damian seething in the corner of his eye. The two months of Marinette's wager ended tonight. As of midnight, she'd officially lose even if Damian didn't win outright. Bruce turned to his youngest then, a touch of concern entering his facial expression.

"You're dating Marinette, correct?"

Damian masked his annoyance and turned to face the others.

"No."

"What do you mean, babybat? You two are practically joined at the hip. We all have to steal her away to get you two separate." 

"She is my best friend. A literal angel on earth. Beautiful and sweet and dangerous. But absolutely not my girlfriend."

"Why not? You obviously love her."

"Platonically. We would kill each other in a relationship. I do not mean that figuratively either."

"Huh…"

"I think you two are missing the point," Jason ground out, cutting off the conversation between Damian and Dick, "those two may not be together, but that still doesn't explain you having a massive ass file on her. She's half naked in some of these, Tim! In her own apartment!"

"I'm aware of the photos there. I'm more annoyed you saw those, actually. How long were you looking through my files, Jason? Should I be worried about You creeping on Ma lutine?" And apparently he had no sense of self preservation left.

"The fuck did you just say? Your pixie? Oh fuck no, you do not get to make claims on her!" 

And that's when chaos broke loose.

Jason had backed off a bit before, but now he was advancing on him, murderous intent in his eyes, Bruce and Dick closing in on them; whether for him or to stop Jason, he did not know. Cass moved closer from behind and for a second he swore he saw Steph and Damian share a concerned look. For a fraction of a second, he resigned himself to his fate. As Jason lifted his gun, luckily only loaded with rubber bullets, but still potentially deadly at this range, he suddenly felt it. A prickling at the back of his neck. Everything happened too quickly.

Something unseen dropped down, the gun went off in response. It blocked the bullet with a hand shrouded in black, the force knocking it back into Tim's lap where he grasped it's hips to steady them on instinct, the body covering his in a protective manner as a growl ripped out of their throat. Everyone froze.

The shadow was here.

In the batcave.

Guarding Tim bodily, silver-blue eyes glinted dangerously at Jason like a cornered predator, ready to attack at any given moment. And Jason could only stare, because he knew who this was. Tim and Damian knew who this was. No one else knew and she had just put herself at the mercy of Batman, Nightwing, Orphan, Spoiler, and likely Oracle. All to protect Tim from Jason. Who had just shot her. The gun dropped. Jason dropped to his knees as the others converged on her. 

"Not. A step. Closer." She growled out, black energy flaring from her hands up her arms. 

"I'm so sorry. Vix, you have to know that I'd never try to shoot you. I didn't know, I'm sorry," Jason rambled, panick flaring up.

"It's okay, Jason. You know now. And you'll never aim at him again, will you? He's mine." She said this to the man in front of her, but her eyes stared down Bruce and Dick as they tried to gain ground. Cass stayed back, Damian and Steph having grabbed her shoulders. 

Damian wanted nothing more than to go up there and protect his best friend, but he knew she wouldn't allow it. This was her battle now. She had laid claim on Tim and someone was threatening her mate. He would never quite understand how the fox instincts inside of a human worked, but knew that she would treat this as she saw fit. Violently if necessary.

"Are you okay," a slightly rattled voice whispered from behind her, arms wrapping around her waist.

Watching the men in front of her, she dissipated the energy, pulling the hood down from her head and lowering the face mask slowly, allowing the entirety of her features to show and dropping the filters wrapping around her voice, letting Marinette shine through for all to see.

As dawning realization struck on the faces around her, she slowly turned in Tim's arms, hand coming up to his cheek, looking for any sign of pain in his eyes, keeping the others in her peripheral.

"I'll be fine. Are you hurt?"

"Me? You took a bullet, Mari!"

"Rubber."

"I don't care if it was made of gelatin, you were still shot!"

"I know, I know. I'm sorry I scared you, but I couldn't just watch you get hurt over nothing," she soothed, pressing her forehead to his in a sweet gesture.

The moment was ruined by Batman, of course.

"Miss Marinette? You're Tim's shadow? The shadow of Gotham?"

She raised an eyebrow at the older man, "Duh."

"You've been stalking him this entire time. And I told him to figure out your identity and watch you. His entire file on you is my fault," at this, his gaze shifted to Tim, " and I accused you of being a pervert for it. I'm so sorry."

"Oh my God, is he always this dense? Is this why Ra's called you the detective?"

"Holy shit, you two are dating," Jason seemed to have come out of his panic on the floor, looking at the two in a new light, "how did I not see this before?"

"What?!" And Dick finally came unfrozen, "You're Teumessian? And you knew, didn't you?" He directed at Jason.

"Well yeah, she told me weeks ago. Or rather, showed me, I guess."

"And you never told us?"

"Not my secret identity to share."

"How many of you knew her identity?" Bruce barked out, only to see Damian, Stephanie, Jason, and Tim raise their hands. He could only heft a sigh. Why was he only good at mysteries that didn't involve his family? With that, he trudged off to brood on his own, still catching snippets of the conversation behind him. He was getting too old for this.

"Uh, not to interrupt the identity crisis, but could we get back to the fact that they're obviously together?" Jason cut in.

"They were quite obvious about it," Cass cut in quietly, seeming to have put the pieces together and found piece with them.

"Oh god, they cuddled in front of us. Blatantly. Numerous times. I feel like an idiot," Dick admitted.

"You feel stupid, I knew she was his shadow. I watched how responsive she was to him. She bent to his wishes and practically climbed him in front of me. In fact, she did! She literally climbed on his back and made him carry her!" 

"Yeah, you're all pretty stupid for being detectives," Tim glared over Vixen's shoulder, her now nuzzling his neck for comfort from the stress of this encounter.

"I'm so sorry, Tim, we should've known better than to doubt you," Dick said, puppy dog eyes on full display.

"Yeah, you should've. Ow!" Vixen nipped at his shoulder with a sharp canine.

"Be nice, they didn't know," she pointed out.

"And who's fault is that?"

"Damian's. Obviously. It was his idea to take bets on when the others would put it together."

With that, the others all turned to where Damian was only to find the spot empty. 

"And Steph, actually. She knew we were together too and still let them go after you for it."

Stephanie gave a nervous chuckle and then took off, the others giving chase after her and to find Damian. Screams echoed down the hall and suddenly Tim and her were alone. 

She dropped the transformation and slumped against him. Tim picked up her hand that had dissolved the bullet and cupped it close.

"Does it hurt?"

"It'll bruise, but I'll be okay. It'll look ugly for a little bit."

He pressed a kiss into her palm in response, whisper soft and reverent, "please don't scare me like that again."

"Then you don't needlessly endanger yourself like that again. I don't care what bet I had going, you should have just told them the second they cornered you like that. You could've told Damian that their demands for explanation was technically asking in a way you had to answer. You're too smart to not be using loopholes like that."

"I'm sorry for worrying you, love."

"You better be," she kissed his neck and curled closer, settling in his lap.

"We should relocate."

"No. If they're going to make stupid accusations, they should have to stare at the stupidity of their actions."

"You're cute when you're vindictive, but could we please move to the couch? It'll be comfier," he tempted. Blushing, she peaked up at him.

"That does sound nice… but only if you carry me," she smiled, giving a little excited wiggle.

"Think I can arrange that," he softened under her gaze, picking her up as he stood and made his way up towards the living room couch, patrol forgotten for the night, "hey, who technically won, anyways?"

"Who even cares?... Though I think I did."

[vanchlo]

The Assistant / Chapter Forty-One, “Finally”

*Gifs are not mine*

Clickable Links:

- *NEW* Becky Magazine Cover from an O.C. Tag Challenge c:

- Masterlist feat. all chapters and Character Surveys

- Inspo tag

- Hecky Playlist

- Read on Wattpad

Warnings: None

Word Count: 10.3k words

Song:  You’re Still The One by Shania Twain, bc duh Just Like Heaven by The Cure (click to listen)

A/N: I am SO excited for you to read this chapter, you’ll soon find out why ;)

                                 SNEAKYYYYYY PEEEEEK

For the fiftieth time in the last two days, I couldn’t be more grateful for how easy things are coming together. I couldn’t be more thankful to have him by my side. It still feels like a dream getting to live this life now, and getting to work with him on the daily, singing Spice Girls amidst stolen cheek kisses.

One puzzle piece at a time, and there’s only one or two pieces left in this puzzle of ours.

"And then my soul saw you and it kind of went ‘Oh, there you are. I’ve been looking for you.’"

                             - Iain Thomas, ‘I Wrote This For You’

There was truly nothing that could rock the waves I was currently riding, and I couldn’t wait a second longer to do the very thing that would make them even bigger. They had only climbed since telling Asher earlier this evening, and the smile that shared on our faces. 

Skye was sprawled out on the sofa when I opened the door, finding it impossible to hide the grin on my face as I read a text from Harry that had dinged a moment before. 

i havent been this excited for somethin in a long time bug. absolutely cant wait to see u on friday, idk if i can wait that long ;) good luck on ur case with Myles 2moro, you’ll do great Becks xo

“Well, look who has a pep in her step, all of a sudden. I don’t think I’ve seen you smile in days, since Harry’s left. What’s the occasion, Ree?” she teases, surprising me with the simple act of muting an episode of The Great British Bake Off that our nights consist of as of late. 

“I may have had a good day,” I suggest with a shrug of my shoulders as I put my coat away in the closet. 

“Since bloody when? You were in a shitty mood the last time we spoke, having ‘Harry withdrawals,’ or something. I’d say the only reason you could be happy right now is if you’d seen him, which would be impossible seeing he’s in Glasgow for another few days,” she mutters. I observe the look on her face change and how her eyebrows dance along her forehead after I turn around to face her, letting the smile lose. “Wait, he’s still there, isn’t he?” she questions, reaching a hand out as if looking for an answer with her body, too. 

My head shakes from side to side slowly as my lips part to show my teeth, a rarity among my smiles, and the expression dawning on her face tells me she recognizes it too. “He came back today, his case finished early, Skye. And I asked him out on a date!” 

“You didn’t?! Ree, you better not be kidding with me, or I’m gonna be really pissed at you!” she chuckles, feigning intimidation in her voice. Hints of the emotions buzzing around inside of me play across her face, meanwhile, my happiness keeps growing notch after notch. 

I don’t know if I can wait that long either, Harry, cause I can’t remember the last time I was this excited. Thank you so much xxx

“I’m not kidding, Skye, and he said yes! He didn’t even let me finish asking and he said yes!” I exclaim after sending the text I had been typing, feeling her arms come around me in a shock when I look back up. 

“I’m so fucking happy for you, Ree, it’s about bloody time!” she remarks excitedly, almost crushing me in a hug. 

“Me too, I can’t remember the last time I was this happy,” I admit softly, relaxing in her arms, even though part of me wishes they were the arms of somebody else. Only an hour later, and I already miss him. Wow, I’ve got this bad. 

“Did you kiss him at least?!”

“No, I’m waiting for the date, I guess. I looked like proper crap today, I’ve been up so late the last few nights prepping for the case with Myles,” I laugh, pulling away from her smell of peaches and chocolate when my pocket dings. 

“First kisses aren’t something you plan, Ree, they just happen out of nowhere. The sooner, the better.” 

“I guess you’re right,” I confess with a smile stuck to my lips. “We’ll just see what happens.”

+

Happiness and its synonyms still fill me to the brim an hour later, and whilst my thumbs flit across the screen of my phone. Her words stare back at me, and unbeknownst to me how, I wish I could see her again already. My footsteps wander down the main hallway, and before I know what I’m doing, I arrive at her door. Low and behold, it’s closed and my heart sinks into my chest when I find darkness waiting behind it. 

miss u already bug xoxo

My words are whisked off to her, and soon my legs are entering the doorway of a certain somebody’s office, although not the one I was hoping for.

“It’s about time you made your rounds and came to say hi to me. Should I feel offended I’m the last one on your list?” Myles teases from behind his desk with a grin lining his lips. 

“Oh, shuddup. Did Becks leave already fer tha night?” I question, letting my shoulder fall to the door frame as I watch the small ‘delivered’ appear under my blue text. 

“Yeah, I ran into her about twenty minutes ago in the break room when she was clocking out. What, didn’t you already see her?”

“Ya, she was me first visitor. I was jus’ hopin’ t’ see her ‘gain,” I shrug, well aware of the terrible job I’m doing of hiding the one hundred watt smile I’m wearing. 

“And does that have anything to do with you blinding me with that smile of yours?” he inquires, raising a sandy blonde eyebrow at me. 

“Maybe it has sumthin’ t’ do with me havin’ a date with her on Friday, as of an hour ago,” I reveal casually with a shrug of my shoulders, feeling the smile grow larger somehow. 

“Fucking finally,” Myles chimes with happiness spreading across his face, and I nod quickly. 

“I know, ‘s all finally comin’ t’getha fer us.”

+

It would be accurate to say that I was still in utter disbelief after yesterday, and rehashing it all to Skye the second I got home only made it all seem more real, and even better. Then again, that was an understatement, because I had been waiting for this for years. I had been waiting to feel this way for too long, and to be able to say and think that I have a date with Harry tomorrow. An actual, proper date. Several times, I cursed myself for not making the date on Thursday night, tonight, because although I had waited painstakingly for five days, another two felt like twenty years.

It was even bittersweet coming to work the next day and not seeing him there, confusing the habits and expectations I had come to know. I still had to finish up the case with Myles that he would finish arguing, with my help, for the next two days. I tried to think of it that way, that the date would be even better after finishing that case, and in a way, signifying my return to Harry. God, it was all too perfect, but it would be even more so if I didn’t have to wait another bloody day, well actually two, to see him. Yesterday wasn’t long enough, but when I think about it, no length of time ever is with him and that’s how I know I’m in trouble.

Also, that I’m walking right into one of my dreams.

+

After a morning spent in court starting off the case, I was back at the firm with Myles after lunch to work on it some more. He had given me more time to myself to work on my own than Harry had, but I preferred it that way. Harry was right, Myles was good to me, and I did learn a lot from him, but it wasn’t the same as being with Harry. Nothing has ever and never will be the same as being with him, certainly not. Also, the whole Family and Interpersonal side of court was depressing as fuck, I found out. The topic littered Harry and I’s conversations the last almost week, resulting in me taking after him and deciding to stay far away from it for now. 

I’m reminded of him everywhere I go, and it definitely makes trying to get my work done all the more difficult. I see his face in the succulent sat at the corner of my desk, behind my office chair where he would lean over me to help me on my laptop, on my sofa where he opened his birthday presents with explosive happiness, and in the reflection on the tall window where I now stand in the same spot as on his birthday when he hugged me against his front with a kiss to my head. A day later, and it all still feels so surreal to me, and I’m not mad about it. I appreciate its distracting qualities, leaving me to not worry as much about what the hell I’m going to wear tomorrow, and messing things up. Skye’s already picked out five outfits for me by now, I’m sure, but I was at a loss last night when I perused my closet. The pressure to impress somebody I’ve already met a hundred times, feels even greater than my second interview I had at the firm, and I tell myself I don’t know why, even though I do.

I want to wear the right thing, and feel beautiful. More than that, I don’t want to mess things up between us, again, no matter how stupid that sounds. No matter how premature it is to worry about right now.

With the happiest of sighs, I wander over to my bookshelf that now sits a dozen law books, gifts from Harry, Skye, Robbie, my dad, and Asher. Perhaps my favorite, to no surprise, is the Lawyer’s Dictionary that Harry got me. It has a section for all of the law jargon, another on many important laws, and lastly finishes with a guide for working the courtroom. I was just getting on my tippy toes to grab it when I feel a pair of arms surround my chest and pull me against theirs. 

“Hiya, brat,” a voice teases, tickling my neck. 

“Harry!” I exclaim with surprise, grabbing hold of his forearms. “Why do you love to scare me so much?”

“I dunno, ‘s fun, and coz yer a brat, so ya deserve it,” he giggles, and finally I relent and do too as I turn around to face him. 

“I am not a brat!” I argue, finding his flushed stubbly cheeks, taking a second to get used to the thick stubble covering them now. 

“Ya are, I reckon, couldn’t even wake me up last night t’ finish tha rest o’ tha FRIENDS episode on FaceTime, jus’ kept watchin’ along without me. If that doesn’t make ya a brat, then I dunno what does,” he tuts, clucking his tongue as he shakes his head at me. My giggles grow into a hearty chuckle as his folded hands settle at the small of my back. 

“Harry Edward!” I scoff, swatting at his chest once again hidden by his Northface coat, matching his black skinny jeans. 

“Hey, ya betta watch that hand o’ yers, bug, and that mouth too.”

“I’m not a brat,” I whine, all facial features falling into a pout that immediately grabs his attention. 

“Rebecca Ann, don’t even start with me. Put that bloody pout away befo’ ya regret it,” he insists, pointing his eyes at me with the smallest of smirks peeking through on his lips. It wins him over and soon his dimples accompany his deep laugh. “Stop, yer not a brat, bug, ‘m jus’ teasin’ ya. Y’know that. Jus’ can’t believe it didn’t even take a week fer ya t’ skip ahead o’ me in our show.”

“The episode was already three quarters of the way over!” I protest, earning a good finger wag at me. I fight back and push against his chest. “And I didn’t want to wake you up, you were so tired.”

“No, it was not! It was only half way through and ya couldn’t even wake me up! How rude o’ my Becks t’ be makin’ up excuses.” 

“Stop being mean to me,” I pout again, beginning to turn away with my arms crossed over my chest. 

“Hey, ‘m jus’ givin' ya a hard time, bug, y’know that. Yer neva a brat, and even if ya are, yer my brat,” Harry hums warmly, the honey returning to his voice in full force as he catches me around the middle with his arms once again. I can’t remember the last time I heard his voice absent of the honey, though. I don’t ever want to. “I wouldn’t want ya any otha way.”

“I knew you were only joking.”

“You li’l liar!” he laughs against my temple and mine joins his ever so contagious one. “Y’know, ‘ve always loved how ya neva take me shit and how ya can dish it right back, Becks.”

“Of course, I figured out at  the very beginning that I wouldn’t get by without it.”

“That’s me girl,” he coos, bringing me forth and round to find his gentle green eyes once more. They smile at me with a sparkle to them I haven’t had the pleasure to know before. I’ve yet to see him look at anybody this way, and I wonder if I have my own special look in my eyes for him, too. If I do, it was born long ago. 

“What are you doing here? I thought you had said you were going to take it easy until Monday, since your case got done early,” I wonder aloud, unsure of what to do with my hands until they venture to his coat’s zipper on their own, pulling it up and down distractedly. 

“I was, until My’ roped me into a partner meetin’ t’day, and I wanted t’ see a special sumbody,” he sighs with an accented roll of his eyes at first, and then they dish out their dazzle on me. “But that’s it, and ‘m off afta that. I hafta do a li’l work fer my case afta finishin’ it, but it’ll only take ten minutes tops. Then laundry, cleanin’, and tha like at home before grocery shoppin’. Only jus’ now got outta bed, tha bloody jetlag.”

“Ah, I see. The work of a lawyer never ends, it seems,” I comment and he nods above me, eyes watching my every move closely. “God, if I knew you’d be here today I would have tried a little harder when I got dressed this morning,” I laugh nervously, my eyes falling to his crimson button-up peeking out from his coat, decorated with gray flowers and foliage. 

“Ya don’t even hafta try and ya look gorgeous, Becks. Promise,” Harry disagrees, the molasses pouring out from his words and into my heart, pushing the very last chip away. Just like that, I’m all his again, but I think it happened long before this and I didn’t know. Daring a look up at him, the dimples couldn’t be deeper in his cheeks as his sunshine smile radiates onto me, the pad of his thumb rough against my cheek. “I sure missed seein’ that smile, ‘s me favourite.” 

My anxiousness carries away with the sunshine, and I’m left with red cheeks and a smile that makes them hurt. It almost pains me to look into his bright sunny eyes, but I wouldn’t want to be looking anywhere else. Finally, I let myself look and with that, I let him in a little further and start to let go. 

“You’re really laying it on thick,” I jest harmlessly with a smile, dragging my finger down the seam of his chest where the two sides of the fabric meet in red cloth buttons. 

“Ya, coz I finally can,” he grins, and the warmth spreading across my body in tingly waves finds an outlet in a soft laugh of mine. 

Anxious yes, but ever so happy while his hand spreads out flush against my back, fingertips moving lazily. I’ve already pinched myself once or twice today wondering if this is all a dream, and shocked that I could ever be this happy. There were so many times I doubted the existence of it and its possibility, and everything it had to do with having this with Harry. Predictably, an electronic twinkle interrupts our conversation, and I’m confused to find him lifting his wrist. 

“Woah, look at the fancy lawyer,” I tease, his already colossal smile growing taller as he flicks a finger across his shiny new Apple watch. “That must have cost a pretty penny.”

“Ya, and My’ dished out e’ry last cent,” he titters, pressing his palm to the shiny surface rounded by space grey edges, returning his eyes and hands to me. “It was his birthday present t’ me, sayin’ that I should be mo’ organized at me age, or sumthin’.”

“Talk about brutal honesty right there.”

“Don’t go bloody agreein’ with him now!” Harry scoffs, but his mouth open in disgust is no more, lined by joyous lips that soon attack my cheeks in kisses. 

“No, no, no!” I beg aloud in shrieks when his quick fingers dance along my ribs, sending jolts of electricity across my body. More exclamations and pleas escape them before I say the magic words, “Harry Edward!” 

“What d’ya want, hmm, Rebecca Ann?” he asks breathlessly, that adorable breathy laugh falling off of his glossy cherry lips. 

“I think you like saying my full name too much,” I contend, giving up and falling into the sage green abyss of his eyes for the hundredth time, or more. 

“Maybe I do. Maybe I like it,” he shrugs mischievously, that smirk glued to his lips that pull me in. 

“Do you like it, the watch?”

“Ya, ‘s nice. I thought ‘d told ya ‘bout it, sorry. Reckon it has helped me t’ stay organized. Speakin’ of, me meetin’ ‘s inna few, so I hafta take off, bug,” he croons with disapproving lips, his bottom lip soon jutting out from the top. 

“Harry Styles, don’t you even!” I threaten rather weakly, the sounds of happiness leaving my lips doing a good job of that. 

“Oh, and what if I don’t? Hmmm, Rebecca Holte, jus’ what will ya do ‘bout it?” Harry returns, wiggling an eyebrow at me that makes my chest rumble with harder laughter. 

“I’ll just have to stop you, but I don’t know how just yet.”

A devilish smirk is born on his lips before my eyes, and soon leaves my view while his face escapes to the crook of my neck, his voice soon tickling my skin, “Lawyers gotta be quick on their feet, bug. Reckon I can think o’ a way ya can make these lips stop poutin’, maybe ya can try it on me t’morro’ afta our date,” he hums against my neck, knitting up his sentence with a whisper of a kiss below my ear.

I feel like a fricken sixteen-year-old all over again, and I’m loving every second. 

“You better get going to your meeting, before you’re late, Harry,” I giggle uncontrollably,  sure that my face is blotchy with red all over because of what he just said. My suspicion is confirmed when he lifts his head of moused curls to look me in the eyes again, and the glint in them tells me so. I feel like I can read him even better now, all because he’s letting me. 

“‘s alright, they expect me t’ be late by now, ‘s a given,” he insists with a comedic shrug of his shoulders, hands wandering away from my back and to our sides where they invite my hands into his. 

“Will you stop and say goodbye this time?”

“‘Course, bug. ‘m sorry I missed ya yestaday, ya had already left afta I had made me rounds,” he assures me, receiving a quiet ‘it’s okay’ from me. 

“Try not to fall asleep at your meeting today,” I joke, watching his eyes roll into the back of his head briefly before he scoops me into his arms for a squeeze. 

“I won’t if ya promise not t’ be a brat anymo’ and skip ahead in our show.”

“Get lost and go to your meeting already!” I laugh, shoving him away by his chest, observant of his mouth relaxing into a disbelieving ‘O’. His laugh echoes mine quickly, only disrupted when my hand comes to his cheek to plant my lips on his other for a few seconds longer than necessary. “I’m so glad you’re back, Harry.”

“So am I, Becks, so bloody much,” he echoes, holding my hands a little tighter in his, even bringing one to his lips for a kiss. “Good luck on yer case, love, for tha thousandth time. ‘m so proud o’ you.”

With that, he leaves me in a puddle of my own surreal emotions, disappearing from my office with a look over his shoulder wearing that smirk. That very smirk I want so desperately to kiss off those cherry lips already. Tomorrow, I think, if I can make it until then. Just one more day.

+

I had been struggling with finishing this last part, or rather redoing it, for too long now. When my eyes again strayig to the violet clock, I was surprised to find that it had been almost an hour, and I hadn’t gotten much further. With my head in my hands, I sigh as feelings battle to be felt within my insides. After today’s argument, Myles and I had to shift our approach, and I still wasn’t sure of how to do that. He had been helping me, of course, but I still felt so lost. It doesn’t help that he’s currently caught up in the partner’s meeting that Harry is also at, and Jennings who is but isn’t a partner. I still don’t get it, even though Harry explained it to me a few times. The next time he does, I’ll have to remember to ask him to dumb it down for me. 

Even after pouring over our shared notes in Google Docs, and my several law books strewn across my desk, I’m at a loss for what to do.

I wish more than anything that it was already five pm tomorrow, and that the only thing I have to think about is my date with Harry. I still don’t know what the hell to wear, or to do with my hair, or how heavy to go with my makeup. 

“Why tha long face, bug?” somebody pipes up, pulling me away from my immersive thoughts. Blinking hard, I tear my eyes away from the laptop screen and look over to the door, but I don’t lift my tired head from my propped fist. 

“I don’t know what to do for my argument.”

“Still? Why didn’t ya jus’ ask, Becks?” Harry hums with an inviting smile, pressing the door to come just shy of closing. 

I shrug my shoulders with a heavy exhale, scrolling through what I have so far, quickly realizing how embarrassing it’ll be to show him. I can’t exit out quickly enough, hearing his footsteps arrive behind me. 

“Hey, what d’ya think yer doin’?” he teases when I switch tabs, quickly feeling the weight of his hand on top of mine, dragging the mouse along. “Don’t be nervous, love, ‘m here t’ help. Always am,” he coos softly, a hand settling on my adjacent shoulder, earning me an encouraging squeeze. 

“It’s embarrassing, Harry. I’ve been sitting here for over an hour trying to figure out what to do, and I have next to nothing to show for it.”

“Relax, ‘s only yer first official case yer arguin’. Don’t be so hard on yerself, Becks. It sounds like ya need a break, bug,” he insists, sending sparks along my left arm as he rubs stripes along the skin. It’s not long before I hear a familiar laugh and slowly, Harry’s dancing figure comes into view. “Yo ‘ll tell ya what I want, what I really, really want. So tell me what ya want, what ya really, really want,” he belts out, his phone blasting the song cupped in his hand. 

“Oh my God,” I sigh with an accidental laugh, my head falling into my hands. I’m too curious though, and so I peek out from behind my spread fingers to watch him sing passionately with his eyes closed while breaking out some amusing dance moves. “Please, stop,” I chuckle, but I’m sure he also hears the lie in my voice. 

“‘m not stoppin’.”

“Please, Harry. You’re going to make me die from secondhand embarrassment,” I confess into my hands, feeling brave and letting my fingers fall down to below my eyes. Mistakenly, his catch mine and they fly back up to cover my eyes, or for the most part. 

“Rebecca Ann, ‘m not stoppin’ ‘til ya come and join me.”

“Then you’re going to be there for a while,” I say with a shrug of my shoulders, certain of one thing and that’s the smile claiming my lips, and the forgotten document staring at me. I’m too preoccupied with the silly, dancing man in front of my eyes, and how somehow this makes me love him all the more. 

“Becks,” he insists, in between singing along to the song very badly. Oh no, I think as his steps near me once again. Before I know it, I’m staring into darkness as his breath tickles the back of my neck. 

“Stop,” I beg with laughs interjected among my pleas. They grow into near shouts and exclamations when his singing is accompanied by his fingers dancing across my sides, and along the slopes of my neck. “Harry!” I almost yell, and when my laughs couldn’t hurt my belly more, it all ceases. Only the singing remains and is joined by his stubbly cheek against my temple, and his arms coiled around my shoulders. “If ya wanna be my lova, ya gotta get with my friends.”

“Make it last forever, friendship never ends,” I continue for him, giggles heard at the end when his nose tickles the corner of my sensitive neck. 

“There’s me happy Becks, ‘m glad I found her ‘gain,” Harry coos, leaving a kiss on my temple before he helps me to tackle my argument. 

Five days did and didn’t feel very long when I think about it now, with his arms wrapped around me as his voice tickles my ear. Too easily, I can remember his absence over those long days, and how effortlessly they felt far longer. I barely survived with his texts and phone calls alone, and it hurts to think that if it hadn’t been for his case finishing early, I’d still be sitting here in my office all in my lonesome. 

Those thoughts are yanked away - thank God - when his voice brings me back, spewing legal mumbo jumbo that luckily nowadays I can understand, but I couldn’t have always said that. Harry makes quick work of what would be my best route to take and how I do that, and for the fiftieth time in the last two days, I couldn’t be more grateful for how easy things are coming together. I couldn’t be more thankful to have him by my side. It still feels like a dream getting to live this life now, and getting to work with him on the daily, singing Spice Girls amidst stolen cheek kisses.

One puzzle piece at a time, and there’s only one or two pieces left in this puzzle of ours.

+

The murmur of voices assaults my ears when I walk through the door, and feel my vision tugged towards the ceiling decorated with chandeliers. A song by Frank Sinatra floats around the entryway, hardly calming my overactive nerves, despite it being a favorite of my late grandpa’s. When I finally reach the host’s stand, the nerves topple out with my words, jumbling them.

“Reservation for H-Harry Styles, please,” I tell the towering, dark haired man. After a few moments tapping away on the kiosk, he grabs two menus and leads me through a maze of linen covered tables sat under the glow of the several chandeliers. 

I try to hide my disappointment when he leads me to an empty, round table, leaving with a few words about my server being with me soon. Another feeling bubbles up inside me, forcing itself to join all of the others mixed together within me. I had a feeling I was too early, I think silently as I shrug off my long pea coat to hang over my chair. Skye’s wishes of good luck and ‘lots of snogging’ float back to me, filling my sad cheeks with another wash of pink. ‘No, you aren’t driving yourself, I’m dropping you off so then you can get a ride home with him, and lay a big one on him when he walks you up,’ she had insisted, but the anxiousness years in the making is doing a good job of making me doubt myself tonight. 

My attention drifts to my phone that is silent with no new messages, but I still check our conversation. The last message was from him:

see u in half an hour for our date bug :) xxx

My thumb scrolls through our previous messages, straying to last night’s that brings a smile to my face. 

I have no idea what to wear tomorrow :/ 

meant it when i said u look beautiful in anything Becks ;) help what should i wear ? xx

I might be a little impartial to that gray suit you wore to my class lecture that one time ;) 

noted ;) i may especially love the color red on u if u wanna know 

Noted ;) Question....

shoot, love 

Skye was gonna drop me off tonight on her way to her boyfriend’s …. Would a ride home be too much to ask?

course not Becks. anytime u need a ride im here. id love to give u a ride home. perfect we can jam 2 some spice girls in the car then ;) 

I can’t wait

neither can i bug :) 

My reminiscing is interrupted when my eyes fall to my outfit of choice, tugging up the scoop neck that Skye insisted wasn’t ‘too slutty.’ Now, I’m not so sure about it, and I can’t decide if I wish he’d show up already, or if I’m not ready. Those thoughts are stolen away when the texts disappear on my phone, his smiling face claiming the screen with a jingle. 

“Hello?” I answer with a gulp, trying to hide the anxious tremble in my voice. I can’t help it, my eyes dart to my wrist, noticing it’s already 6:05 pm.

“Hi, bug. ‘m sorry but tha traffic ‘s horrendous and ‘m afraid ‘ll be late gettin’ t’ tha restaurant. E’rybody else ‘s comin’ home from work too,” Harry explains from the other side, a weird sound taking over his voice. Yeah, we’re not too good at this pretending thing anymore, are we? I can hear the nerves in his voice, probably just like he can hear them in mine. 

“Oh, it’s okay, Harry. I don’t mind at all, just be careful driving,” I respond, feeling a sense of relief at knowing where he is. I know he never would, but it squashes the tiny voice inside of me saying he wasn’t ever going to show up. 

“‘Course I will, love. Thanks fer understandin’. Reckon ‘ll be there in ten. Are ya there already?” he responds, just the sound of his voice doing wonders at calming me down. The only thing that could take it all away is a hug, one of his.

“Yeah, I just sat down.”

“Mmmm, d’ya mind scopin’ out tha menu while yer there? I won’t be too long, we can order once I get there, if that’s alright,” he asks, the sound of traffic sneaking into our phone call for a second. Then, I hear him sigh ‘finally’ and the subsequent thrum of the motor.

“Yeah, sure. I’ll see you soon then, careful driving.”

“I can’t wait t’ see you, Becks,” he hums before hanging up, leaving me sitting across from an empty chair that I can’t stop picturing him sitting in. 

This is really happening.

Finally.

+

The sound of her voice rings in my ears, and does nothing to stop the anxious shakes coursing throughout my body. Curses fall under my breath as I honk at somebody who pulls out right in front of me, making me slam on my brakes. With a sigh, I turn on my indicator before making my turn.

Pulling my keys from the ignition drenches my surroundings in silence, and reminds me of my heart beating wildly within my chest. Looking up, the decorative windows of the restaurant appear before me in shrouded light. She’s somewhere in there . . waiting for me.

Get it together, Harry. You can do this.

My eyes drift to the rear view mirror and I card my fingers through my hair until it looks decent enough. That’s as good as it’s going to get, I almost mutter while smoothing down my blazer underneath my coat. The bone chilling February night nips at my face once my feet touch the tarmac. Streetlights cast glows all around me, as well as the headlights of several cars. The thumping within my chest grows louder and faster as my feet near the door, and then the stand where a manicured man waits.

“Hi. I made a reservation unda the name ‘Harry Styles’,” I tell him, immediately casting my eyes to the tables within view, searching for her dark chocolate locks. 

“Right this way,” he replies, waving a hand to follow him and I do. He leads me past several tables, empty and occupied, and almost gets me lost in the process.

The last thing I feel is lost when my eyes finally find her.

“Thank you. I-I got it from here,” I tell him hurriedly, holding a hand out that brings us both to a halt. He walks away after a short ‘you’re welcome,’ leaving me there, right where I want to be.

I don’t remember the smile reaching my ears or my heart quieting within my chest as I watch her flip through the menu thirty feet away from me. The prettiest red dress dons her long body, falling just underneath her collarbones and draped over the curve of her shoulders. Her hair falls in dark, natural waves, almost hiding the round opal sitting above the scoop of scarlet fabric. A tingling sensation blankets my body from head to toe, and the image of Becks sitting there waiting for me is burned into my mind.

It feels like I’m meeting her again for the first time, but I’m not. This feels like a new first time, and I know it’s one I won’t ever forget, much like the very first time I laid my eyes upon her. 

It felt like a Monday. For the bloody life of me, I couldn’t remember if it was one at the moment. Is it Monday? I’m not sure, but with the way things were going today, it sure felt like one. The copier had a jam, I forgot the first lunch I’ve made in years at home, and my girlfriend had been annoying the fuck out of me this morning. To top it all off, I had applicants being interviewed today to fill the position of my personal assistant, ever since the last one bolted. She didn’t last more than two weeks, a big surprise. 

Pete had been blowing up my phone for the last ten minutes, and I finally had had enough. Without an announcement or a knock, I stride into his office, fully intent on finding out what the hell he wants. 

“I’m a little busy, if you haven’t noticed,” he retorts over the head of dark chestnut locks sat in front of him. Presumably, one of the new applicants for my personal assistant. Hmm. 

“Well, ya kept ringin’ me bloody phone, Pete. So, what tha hell d’ya want?” I insist, throwing up a hand that falls to my thigh with a loud slap. 

Suddenly, I wish the quiet little thing would turn around, and give me a look at her. Shy, she is, it seems. There she sits, tucked away into her little shell, dressed to impress in a dark dress. 

“I’m in the middle of an interview!” he exclaims, certainly making a good first impression with the applicant. It makes me wonder for the tenth time why I bother having him do the interviews, but then I remember that I don’t really give a fuck, as long as I don’t have to do them. 

“What fer, huh?” I tease, instantly getting a snappy response from Pete about it being for me, as if I didn’t already know. But, I did, and am only doing this to bother him even more. 

“Ooo, ‘s it now? Ya get me a good one? Huh, Pete?” I grin, taking a step forward as a hand in my pocket plays with the tiny, metal guitar attached to my key ring. Sticking my head out as I move forward, my eyes dance across her head, and her profile that soon comes into view. “Hullo, love. Gonna be me new one, are ya? Petey here says I can’t keep one fer tha life o’ me, so here he ‘s interviewin’ me anotha one. How’s she doin’ so far, Petey? Think she’s a winna?” I joke aloud, knowing full well the effect my words have on the both of them. 

My subsequent introduction falls from my lips after a retort from Pete, and then the stranger finally turns to look me in the eyes. I rack my brain, trying to put a name to her face from a prior conversation with Pete. Or was it going over her resume when it came in the other day? I can’t remember which, and I blame it on her captivating baby blue eyes, as well as the intoxicating smile that greets my own. Words float from her lips and grace my ears for the very first time, and I knew immediately that she was something else. 

“Hi, my name is Becky. Becky Holte.”

Little did I know how drastically she would change my life, sometimes I thought for the worse, but ultimately for the better. The better, always. I had no way of knowing at that very moment, how many times she would come to save me.

My Becks.

+

The sound of homemade ravioli filled with chicken and three kinds of cheese is almost making my mouth water. It also makes me wonder when Harry will finally be here, and habitually, my eyes lift to look for him. To my surprise, I find him standing a ways away with the sweetest smile stuck to his lips. 

“Hiya, Becks. Sorry ‘m late. Ya look . . absolutely gorgeous, by tha way,” he comments once he’s within a few steps of the table. He reaches across to squeeze my arm before sitting down across from me, a blush pinching his cheeks. 

“Thank you, Harry. I uh, like the suit you went with, you look very handsome in it. Good choice,” I return, failing to not focus on the fast thrumming deep inside of me. 

“Ya, a certain sumbody said it was their favourite on me, so I couldn’t disappoint,” he grins with a shrug, unfastening the button at his waist, exposing the satiny black button-up hidden underneath. 

“Good, I’m glad you didn’t,” I smile, sure of the warmth he can see filling my cheeks, because I can see it mirrored in his own. “I like that you kept the stubble.”

“Why thank you,” he comments, once again rubbing it with his thumb and forefinger, and like before, making me all the more jealous. “I trimmed it up a li’l bit, figured I betta.” 

“Oh, I hope you keep it. I think I prefer you with it.”

“D’ya now, Becks?” he teases with a lift of his eyebrows, his tousled curls almost tickling his forehead, but just barely. “‘ll hafta rememba that,” he smiles, and more than ever, it’s incredibly contagious. My cheeks are starting to hurt from smiling by now, but I don’t even mind. 

“The um,” I begin nervously, my eyes falling to the elegant paper menu opened in front of me. It pains me to look away from him and the sunshine emanating from his smile, but it’s not so bad when I feel his chelsea boot knock against my heel, remaining there against the back of my ankle. “Chicken ravioli sounds good, as well as the margherita pizza, and Cacio e Pepe. Lots of good choices for dessert, too.”

“Mmm, they all sound good, love. Thanks fer lookin’ fer us,” he muses aloud, head bent down to peer at the menu when I glance over to him. 

His habit returns and his bottom lip is caught between his teeth, and somehow, it makes my smile grow bigger. I didn’t think that was possible, but here I am with aching cheeks. I nudge his foot with mine and he looks up with a question on his face, soon relaxing into a sparkling smile. That effervescent look in his eyes from the other day returns, and if I hadn’t known it already, I truly could look into his eyes for the rest of eternity. The dimples haven’t left his cheeks since he arrived, and his raspberry lips beg at me from across the table. 

“Let’s give it a try then,” he remarks, closing his menu without breaking our eye contact. The words dipped in honey flow from his lips and tickle something inside me, and I want more than anything to hear another meaning in them. His foot nudging at mine in return only makes me give in to it, and so does his wink. 

Our server arrives at our table shortly, and I thank God for the champagne she pours into tall flutes, not taking the edge off fast enough. A conversation blossoms between us about his case, and then mine with Myles. 

“Ya did great by tha way. Congrats on tha win, Becks, ‘m so fookin’ proud o’ you,” Harry grins adamantly, sweetness pouring off of his words that come out with a shake of his head. 

“Thank you so much, Harry. Wait, how’d you know we won it? I was just going to tell you,” I ask with furrowed brows, and receive a measly shrug of his shoulders in return. The look on his face, as if a revelation is threatening to burst from his lips, teases at me until it abates when the server brings us waters and we order. 

“So so bloody proud o’ you t’day, Becks,” he whispers as she pulls out her notepad and a pen. Possibilities blossom within my mind after he sends me a coy wink and knocks his foot against mine again. It doesn’t leave my own throughout the rest of our time there, during our meal and the laughs we share over glasses of champagne, and a plate of Tiramisu that I somehow let him share with me.

+

“I knew it! You were there today, sitting in the gallery, weren’t you?!” I exclaim, mumbling a short ‘thank you’ when he opens the car door for me. 

“Maybe,” Harry shrugs casually, walking around the front of the car as I fall onto the leather seat. 

“Harry Styles!” I nearly shout, if it weren’t for my voice dissolving into a giggle as he slides behind the steering wheel next to me. 

“What? I had some stuff t’ do at tha courts, so I may have popped in fer a mo’,” he explains. 

“Sure,” is all I say as I pull the seat belt across my chest. 

“Hush, and play some music, bug. Here,” he insists, handing me his grey iPhone that looks normal sized in his hand, and then gigantic in mine. 

“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming to watch?”

“Coz o’ that right there, Becks. Yer nervous ‘bout it right now afta tha fact, imagine how ya woulda been if ‘d told ya I was comin’ befo’ yer argument t’day,” he returns, pressing buttons on the dash and soon, waves of hot air greet my cold body. 

“I guess you’re right.”

“‘m what? I didn’t catch that,” Harry jests, cupping his ear. A scoff flies from my lips and I playfully swat his shoulder. “Hey, watch it. ‘m drivin’.”

“You haven’t even switched gears, so shut up,” I laugh, catching the eye roll he thinks I don’t see. “I see that eye roll, Styles, you better watch it.”

“You betta watch it, Becks. Betta pick a good Spice Girls song too, ‘m payin’ attention,” he jokes, soon his fingers diving into my side. A laugh escapes me unwillingly, and yanks my eyes over to his giggling lips. 

His name leaves mine in a near shriek, and after a blink, his tickling fingers are gone and lacing between mine. The dark flecks in his sage green eyes catch under the overhead light before it turns off automatically. He gives my hand a good squeeze as his eyes melt into mine, and a zing of electricity runs up my fingers and then my arm. The smile falling into his cheeks mirrors the one that’s been glued to my lips all night, and now grows higher and higher. I return the squeeze just as he looks to his mirrors, the click of the doors locking when he shifts to Reverse. 

It almost hurts to look away, but so many other feelings and thoughts are occupying me as my eyes fall to his phone. Disbelief washes over me as his long, ringed fingers sit between mine. It only grows when he lifts our intertwined hands up and over the middle console, to sit on his warm thigh.

An uninvited wave of pain hits me when I spot familiar sad songs amongst his music library, like the familiar ‘When She Loved Me’ that could make any Toy Story fan weep within seconds of hearing it. It intensifies when my eyes run over the songs Before You Go, Wish You Were Here, Say You Won’t Let Go, and With or Without You. Chancing a glance over at him, he stares straight ahead into the dark night, and a bittersweetness greets me. I try not to let it in, and the realization that perhaps those lost seven months were hell for him too, as were those five days apart. 

“Find it? I have Spice World on there sumwhere. I know I have loads o’ shit on there, sorry,” he comments, turning his head to check his left before pulling onto the busy road. 

“Y-Yeah,” I stutter, looking back to his expansive music library spanning from the 50’s to current music. His thumb drawing circles onto my knuckles brushes some of the sadness away as I bring up the album he speaks of. 

“Bloody hell, why ya choosin’ tha sad one, Becks?” he titters, glancing over to me when we come to a stop at a light. His smile shining back at me whisks away the last drops of the sadness, but hints of it remain with me, begging to be felt. I shrug my shoulders as the beginning lyrics of ‘Too Much’ fills the car, and I only turn it up louder. “I get t’ pick tha next song, if yer playin’ sad stuff. Bloody rubbish you are at pickin’ songs,” he sighs jokingly with a shake of his head, curls tickling his ears and the nape of his neck. 

“I am not!” 

“‘Kay, brat, keep talkin’,” he snickers, earning another scoff from me that he answers with a harder laugh. I cast my eyes to the window with an exaggerated whimper, soon hearing his profuse apologies. “‘m kiddin’, Becks, bloody hell. I already know ya have a good taste in music from all o’ our talks. I like this song too, jus’ thought ya’d go fer some happy songs, seein’ tha . . occasion and e’rythin’. Hey.” 

I answer him with my eyes returning to him, finding his wink before he looks back to traffic, and with my thumb coasting back and forth across his smooth skin. I listen to the lyrics, feeling another squeeze of my hand from him before I change the song. 

“Hey, don’t change it befo’ ‘s done!” he exclaims, and I just laugh, watching his shocked lips soon do the same. 

“Then stop complaining,” I argue, catching another roll of his eyes as the car slows to a stop in front of another light. Joy buds on my lips as the surprise unfolds on his features, meanwhile his eyes crinkle, the dimples fall deeper, and his raspberry lips thin out as a smile consumes his face. 

“I knew ya were sumthin’ special,” he notes aloud with a shake of his head, a giggle emanating from his joyous smile, right before he joins me to sing along to Shania Twain’s ‘Man, I Feel Like A Woman.’ 

His fingers laced between mine continue to send my heart into overdrive as we belt out the song between contagious laughs, and then another crowd favourite, ‘You’re Still The One.’ This one gets me and sometimes throughout the song, I can’t get myself to look at him with the sincerity held in the lyrics. As well as the words that hit too close to home. 

Finally, I can’t stand it anymore, and my eyes drift over to his at the end of the song, finding that his are already on mine. “‘m so glad we made it. Look how far we’ve come, my baby,” Harry finishes with his eyes dancing upon me with that smile dripping with molasses. As if his hand squeezing mine periodically throughout the song wasn’t already making me want to cry, now I really could. I return the gesture before looking out the window, blinking back the arriving tears from my eyes as those lasting words sing inside of my head. 

Yeah, we finally made it, Harry. Belatedly, but finally.

+

“‘s been years since ‘ve been here, hasn’t changed much tho’,” Harry remarks softly, only a few steps away from my door. 

“Yeah, the inside looks bout the same too.”

“‘m sure. Maybe I could see fer meself one o’ these days,” he remarks aloud, and when my eyes drag over to his nervously, I answer him with a nod. 

“I’d like that.”

“Me too,” he coos, rubbing the pad of his thumb along the back of my hand. A shy smile nudges at the edge of my lips as he stands in front of me, my right hand still safe within his. “Well, I had a wondaful time t’night, thanks again.”

“You’re welcome, and thank you too. I had a lot of fun . . with you.”

“So did I, bug. ‘ll um, text you later then?” Harry says, clearing his throat awkwardly, his bottom lip soon returning to its nervous spot. 

“Y-yeah, sounds good,” I mumble quietly, eyes falling to my hand that he drops. The absence of his warmth against mine feels very strange now, having been holding hands for the entire drive and subsequent walk up to my apartment. 

“Night, Becks.”

“Goodnight, Harry, careful driving,” is the last thing I say before slipping behind my door, finding Skye perched on the sofa. The monotonous, forced words echo in my ears and my eyes fall to the floor, disappointment flooding every inch of me. 

“So, how’d it go?! Did you finally fucking kiss him?!” she shouts the second the door meets its frame. 

“No,” I admit between shy lips, the steps I take seeming as if they’re from somebody else’s body, not mine. The entire last five minutes feels like somebody else had lived them, not me. No, it can’t end like that. “Not yet, anyways,” I rush, ignoring my shoes I already toed off, spinning around and ripping open the door. “Harry, wait!” I exclaim, finding his surprised expression waiting in front of the lift. 

“What?” he asks, eyebrows bent into a questioning mess. 

“I-I forgot something,” I manage, the words spilling out in a heap while he closes the distance between us, stopping right in front of me. Right where I need him. 

“Forgot what, bug? Did ya forget yer shoes in me car?” he titters, the fluorescent glow overhead picking out the few blonde hairs in his stubble. 

“No . . something else,” I finally admit, taking a step when there aren’t any left. 

The dimples remain set into his cheeks while his eyes fall to my lips and mine raise to his. His facial hair is prickly and dense under the pad of my thumb, and his coveted bottom lip is warm and pillowy. The golden hue of his olive green irises fills my mind when my lips finally meet his, and at last, I find his bottom lip between my own. His sweet giggle sounds against my lips as my fingers get lost in his buttery curls. I come to echo it when his hands shock me with their coldness against my hips, pulling me closer to him. One strays to the back of my head as his lips move against mine, the word ‘finally’ repeating incessantly within my mind. His barely there beard is scratchy against my skin, contrasting to the smooth tip of his nose grazing my cheek. The cinnamon and cocoa powder from the Tiramisu cake tickles my taste buds while his spicy vanilla smell covers me like a blanket. Zings shoot across my palm pressed to his smiling cheek, his facial hair prickly against the sensitive skin. 

Not feeling like what was actually mere seconds later, air fills my lungs when we pull away at the same time, sharp inhales filling the air. Quickly, his sweet giggle joins it, and ropes one of my own in. The tip of his nose leaves trails on my cheek as his forehead falls onto mine. 

“Ya have no idea how long ‘ve waited fer that,” Harry rasps, his warm breath dancing across my lips. His own press a whisper of a kiss to mine briefly, although after that, now I’m sure it could never be long enough. 

“I think I do know,” I mumble, my hand straying to his chin where I brush the tip of my thumb against the flesh of his bottom lip. 

“‘m sorry it took us so long, bug.”

“It’s okay, we’re here now. Finally,” I tell him and he nods, the twinkle in his eye bright as can be. For the first time, I let myself melt and lose myself in the greens of his eyes. Something I have wanted to do ever since the very first time I looked into his green eyes and knew I was fucked. 

“Yes, we are. And look at you, Becks. Ya beat me t' tha first date and tha first kiss,” he smirks with a decadent laugh adorning his words. I can’t help but join him while I twirl a ringlet of his hair around the tip of my finger against the back of his neck. 

“Oh, it’s okay, Harry. You got the first hand hold, and the first Shania Twain car duet.”

A roll of his miraculous eyes accompanies his continuing laugh, “Ya, well, so did you, but I got tha more romantic one,” he insists, words welcomed by my surprised scoff. 

“Wait, you don’t find ‘Man, I Feel Like A Woman’ romantic?!” I nearly exclaim in faux disbelief, my voice softening into a giggle quickly. 

“Only when you sing it, bug,” Harry smiles, thumbing circles into the small of my back. 

“Wait, you got tha first handhold, brat. Rememba, when I visited you at yer old work that day? Bloody hell, you beat me t’ all tha good ones, Becks. No fair,” he snickers with a sigh to his words, the two contrasting the other. I suffice my response with an obligatory nod, feeling my heart just now starting to settle into a regular beat. “Becks, there’s so many things ‘ve wanted t’ say t’ you, and now, I finally can.”

“I think I know how you feel.” 

“First thing ‘ll say ‘s I get tha second date and tha second kiss,” Harry contends with a smirk held in his eyes. 

“Oh, really?” I giggle and he soon nods. He quiets the laugh beginning on my lips with his own giddy ones, my lips molding against his effortlessly. Thoughts blossom quickly within my mind, including why I waited so fucking long to kiss him. If I’d known all of these years how wonderful it feels to kiss him, I never would have waited this long. Our kisses are slow although hurried, our lips searching for the other’s desperately, and somehow perfectly. Years overdue, and it couldn’t feel any more perfect. 

“Fookin’ hell, I jus’ wanna keep kissin’ you, Becks. Dunno if I can stop,” he chuckles, brushing his nose against mine softly. Shockingly, his eyes are even more gorgeous from this view, and I didn’t think that was possible. Evidently, anything is. 

“You don’t have to,” I laugh and he shrugs his shoulders while his eyebrows mimic the expression, his giggle soon vibrating against my tingling lips. 

“We have loads o’ lost time t’ make up fer,” he notes aloud. 

“Yes, we do. A couple years, give or take.”

“Mmmhmm, yer right there, li’l one. Fook, there were so many times I wanted t’ kiss ya ova the years,” he sighs with a sad shake of his head. His dimple is soft under my fingertip, hidden under the warm brunette facial hair. 

“Then kiss me.”

Too soon, his lips leave mine after a short peck, but I press at the back of his curls and envelope his laugh with my lips. My name falls from him in a delighted whisper before one more kiss. Our laughs grow louder only to be muffled, although weakly, when a figure walks by into their nearby apartment. My face runs to the crook of his neck, my very favorite song dancing along my ears as he holds me against him. 

“Nothing to see here, sir,” I joke, and the warmth filling my insides grows at the sound of his happiness. 

“No, I rememba I got tha first handhold that night we went out fer drinks tha first time. Tha night with tha Purple Hazes and all those shots,” Harry insists from above me, and I give him the funniest look when I come out of hiding. 

“You’re still going on about that?” I ask in near disbelief, watching his curls move when he nods his head, dipping to meet my lips with his for a slow kiss. 

“I don’t want this night to end,” I hum against the strawberry color of his decadent mouth. 

“Neither do I, Becks. ‘ve been waitin’ fer it fer so long,” he agrees, the wispiness of his eyelashes ghostlike against my forehead. 

“It’s getting late, and Skye is probably dying to hear how tonight went.”

“Ya betta go and tell tha poor girl then,” he responds, pulling my eyes towards his that sit just a moment away, sending all of the sunshine in my direction. 

“That’s okay?”

“‘Course. I may or may not ring Myles on tha way home t’ tell him all ‘bout it,” he shrugs with a telling lilt to his sing-song voice. The only sound that leaves my lips is an amused laugh that he echoes, and I know that he feels the same way.

At last, I know after over two years that he feels the same way, through and through. 

“We’ll figure out sumthin’ fer this weekend t’getha, sound good?”

“Yeah, sounds great, Harry,” I agree slowly and he nods ever so slightly, leaving kisses starting from my temple and down my cheek. 

“G’night, bug.”

“Night, Harry. Drive careful,” I tell him and once again, he answers me with a nod. 

“I promise, babe.”

“Goodnight,” I almost whisper, the very last breath of the word stolen away by his lips. I wouldn’t want it any other way, I barely am able to think as his lips massage mine between his. His neck is fiery beneath my palms and I’m sure mine is likened to it underneath his fingertips, surges of electricity passing below my skin. The skin is balmy against my blushing cheek when my arms come around his middle, surprising us both with a long hug, before I pull away first. 

“Night, my Becks,” he murmurs against my lips, a shiver running down my spine when he leaves with a final squeeze to my hand. If that didn’t do it, the song flowing from his humming lips sparks memories behind my eyes, but I still can’t figure out where it’s from. But, I know that I have plenty of time to figure it out, and to get all of the kisses that I want from him. 

Fucking finally.

[sell-our-skins]

Day 4 of Paradise Motel Week Post Canon AO3 Link ~ Hum Hallelujah “Trying to honor the dead is really difficult when the person who killed them is *right there*”

The Girl was struggling to close her backpack. It was a fairly cheap thing, recently bought by her mom. The shade reminded her of apricots, and all of the times she used to steal fruit flavored candies with Ghoul. Actual fruits were impossible to come by in the zones, or at least they used to be, but with BL/ind being gone, she supposed that she could try a real one now.

It was hot in the car. She was sitting in the passenger seat and the sun was beating down on her through the windshield. Her door was open, occasionally giving a short gust of wind. ‘Mom’s getting the keys,’ she told herself. Soon she could crank up the air conditioning and try to relax. That was, if the bag would actually close.

The zipper refused to budge. She gave it another exasperated tug, “Motherfucker,” she hissed out. Stupid zipper. Stupid backpack.

“Motorbaby?” Maya poked her head into the front seat of the van. Her dark hair, which was streaked with the occasional grey, was pulled up into a loose bun and a leather jacket thrown over a plain green tank top, “You need help?”

The Girl sighed, silently handing her mom the backpack in defeat. Maya smiled warmly, opening up the glovebox in front of the Girl with a gentle click. It was filled to the brim with trinkets from their adventures so far. The older Killjoy pulled out a half melted blue candle and began to carefully rub it over the zipper lining.

The Girl arched one of her eyebrows.

“Don’t question me, child of mine,” she warned with a chuckle, setting the candle down on the dashboard. Maya firmly grabbed the stubborn zipper, and closed the bag with ease.

“I take back my eyebrow raise. You’re clearly a deity in disguise,” Maya rolled her eyes, handing the Girl her bag and buckling herself up. The Girl carefully set the fruit-colored-bag in the backseat.

Maya started the van, and she started to head towards Route Guano. It was only now sinking in, what they were doing and where they were going. The Girl could feel her stomach flip with anxiety and her head filling with doubts.

It was apparently visible in her face, since her mom commented on it, “You know, we don’t have to do this. We could… make an altar for ourselves. Just a family thing.”

She actually considered it for a second, but no. She wasn’t going to let some asshole ruin her day

“I’ll be fine.”

--=+=--

The two Killjoys pulled up to the Ultra V hideout, which was formally some type of restaurant. A fast food place, most likely, but it was nearly unrecognizable. It was covered in spray painted tags and other interesting looking ornaments. However, today, it was also decorated with different types of desert wildflowers.

Pretty much as soon as the car had stopped, a teal haired Killjoy burst through the front of the restaurant, followed by their pink haired twin.

“KIIIIIIID! KID KIID!” the twins called out, running towards the car as fast as they could. The Girl felt a little smile appear on her face as she opened the door and hopped out of the van. Instantly, Vaya had pulled her into a tight hug and loudly exclaimed, “I can’t believe you actually came!”

“Yeah, glad you could make it, tumbleweed,” Vamos tried to play faer previous excitement off casually. Fae leaned against the van, a caricatured version of looking cool. Though they somehow made it work.

“Don’t scratch the paint, pup,” Maya piped up, hopping out of their car with a bag slung over her shoulder, “Can ya’ lend me a hand?”

“‘Course, Ms. Psychic,” Vaya called out, letting go of the girl and rushing to the other side of the van, their sibling following closely behind.

Merely a few seconds later, Vinyl came walking towards the group. The Girl gave him a wave, grabbing her apricot backpack from the backseat. Vinyl pointed at her backpack, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh, uh, I got it. You can see if mom needs help, though,” he nodded at her words and travelled around the vehicle. The Girl glanced over at the doorway. The last member of the Ultra Vs was just standing there. Staring back at her and leaning against the doorway. His hair had faded slightly, turning a sort of pinkish red.

She sighed and looked up into the sky. Probably around 4.

‘You’ve been through hell and back you can deal with this,’ she ran a hand through her hair and made her way into the Ultra V hideout. Val’s eyes were practically staring right through her. Like a snake watching its prey. The Girl just tried to not acknowledge it.

She looked around at the now decorated restaurant. There were a handful of wildflowers in a variety of colors in cans and petals on the ground. A desk had been pushed out into the front room, making a makeshift altar. It was extremely plain, the only things on it being a faded polaroid of Volume in a soft yellow frame, a couple bad luck bead bracelets placed on the corners of the picture frame, a bag of chips, most likely stolen from Tommy, and a hair dye kit in Electric Frankenstein.

She opened up her bag and began to pull things out of it. Beads, photos, and other precious items. The Girl started to add things to their shared altar, making sure everyone had a section. Her family, her friends, no one was left out.

“Surprised you’re even here, halo head,” Val finally piped up, after what quite possibly could have been the most awkward silence.

‘Halo head,’ she mused to herself, ‘haven’t heard that one in a minute.’

“I’m here to help, don’t get sour,” she said with a sigh, carefully setting out both the battery powered and real candles.

“Help with what? None of this even… matters,” he moved away from his spot in the doorway and towards the altar she was working on.

She didn’t even dignify his sentence by turning to look at him, continuing to set out the picture frames. Val was just trying to get a rise out of her, she knew it.

“I mean, what deity is this for, again?”

“The Phoenix Witch,” the Girl strung a string of bad luck beads around the top of the desk.

“Yeah, the humanoid in a feather coat.”

She gave Val a somewhat annoyed look from over her shoulder, “Just a few months ago you saw me explode into a ball of green electricity,” she went back to what she was doing.

That seemed to set him off, really make him flare up, “I’m not gonna let some bomb with a silver tongue make my crew-”

“Heyyyyy!” Vaya announced their presence as they burst in through the front door. When they noticed how tense Val was, they cleared their throat, “Hope I didn’t interrupt your little get together.”

“Nope, we’re fine,” the Girl put on a fake smile. Apparently it was believable enough, because they let it go with a shrug.

Vaya was followed in by the rest of the Killjoys, all holding different bags filled with goodies.

Val’s anger seemed to fizzle out, since he practically slunk back into the background. It was like a sparkler, going from loud, bright, and fiery to silent in a matter of minutes. A sparkler in Poison Red hair dye. It still made her frown when she thought of it.

--=+=--

The altar was almost completely done, and Vamos was helping with the finishing touches. It was packed full of gifts and photographs, all meant to honor the ghosted. Maya, Vinyl, and Vaya were all in the restaurant’s kitchen, cooking both for the altar and for all of the other Killjoys. There was laughter coming from the kitchen. Well, Vaya and Maya were laughing, Vinyl was trying to fight the smile that wanted to appear on his face. The others were able to hear due to the openness of the restaurant. Val was hunched over on the couch, scribbling in his notebook.

“Lookin’ pretty shiny,” Vamos adjusted one of the frames near the back, since the glare of the lights had made it difficult to see. In it was a photo of Dr. Death Defying and Cherri Cola that the Girl had stolen out of Dr. Death’s station. Faer smile faded almost instantly.

“Christ, I kinda miss the old man,” fae mumbled, tone somewhat sorrowful, maybe even regretful. Fae brushed some of their neon hair out of faer eyes and continued to stare at the frame for a moment. Val shifted on the couch, no longer hunched over. No, now he was listening.

“Yeah, but, I guess… it happens… in a way?” the Girl struggled to find the words, she could feel herself getting somewhat choked up.

“It wasn’t his time,” Maya added, her tone laced with bitterness, “It’s a damn shame, but he’s with the witch now”

“God can you hear yourselves? He was a broken record. A dust angel. What’s the point of all of this?” Val’s voice snapped through the conversation. Everyone was tensely staring at Val, now. A stiff silence having come over the room.

“You wouldn’t know a broken record if you were hit over the head with one,” the Girl snapped back, after what felt an eternity, “The hell is wrong with you? Why can’t you just enjoy something for once?”

Val wrinkled his nose at her, storming out of the building without another word. Fuck.

“Guess you really blew up on him,” Maya tried, her joke falling flat.

--=+=--

It had only been around 15 minutes. The Girl hesitantly poked her head out of the door, looking at Val, who was sitting on the stairs.

“What?” he didn’t look up at her, like he thought the pavement was the most interesting thing in the zones. The stars were just starting to pop up in the sky, the sun sinking behind its spot in the hills.

The Girl just plopped down next to him and stared up at the sky, “You don’t have to like me, Val.”

Val looked up from his pavement, staring at the Girl with a look of mostly confusion.

“We just can’t keep pretending like we aren’t bothered by each other,” she ran a hand through her hair, focusing on a particularly bright star.

There was a beat of silence, “And I know you’re too stubborn to agree. It’s fine,” she hoped that her words came off as lighthearted. The last thing she needed was Val snapping at her again.

“You like the stars?” he finally spoke up.

She broke her staring contest with the bright star to glance at her fellow Killjoy, “Yeah, uh…” The Girl ran a hand through her hair again, debating whether to share what just popped into her head.

“Party, they used to tell me that when you got ghosted you would get turned into a star,” Val looked over at her, his face unreadable, “It always made me feel better, when I would hear people talking about claps going South on the radio. Made me feel like they were just… turning into stardust.”

He looked like he was processing her words, struggling to find the right response.

“Shiny,” is what he finally landed on.

“Yeah, shiny.”

[enygma0710]

Once in a Lifetime... Outtake

So yesterday I was tagged in a Author tag game and going through it I realized I have shit ton of unused scenes that could easily be drabbles or outtakes as I like to call them for all my fics but ALOT for OIAL. 

So i dug up one that was initially in Chapter 4 and it didn’t work or add anything to the story but gets referenced in an upcoming chapter. So I’ve decided to share it here...maybe eventually on Ao3 but it was Valentines Day event that got cut and seeing that it is Valetine’s Day, fuck it why not share it. 

This take place in grade 7 for Jon and Dany and the awkwardness of Valentines Day when you kinda start like boys/girls but don’t know how to navigate it. Terrible years I know but here is the Outtake from Once in a Lifetime. 

__________________________________________________

“Daenerys, just pick something or we’re going to be late,” Rhaella sighed giving her daughter an exasperated look.

Dany stood in front of the Valentine’s Day card selection, chewing on her nails. For the past month, Margaery had stressed the importance of this year’s Valentine’s Day. They were in grade seven and the cute silly cards from the years before were no longer appropriate 'We're no longer children,' Margaery informed both Missy and Dany. 'Those are childish things and we are now women and as my grandmother says women leave childish things behind them’

But that’s what made Valentine’s Day great. It was the fun of exchanging goofy cards with friends and eating candy, cupcakes and all types of pink, red, white sweet confectionary delights that made Valentine’s Day one of her favorite holidays. Every year they would end the school day in their homerooms and feast upon generous amounts of treats till their stomachs felt like they would burst, leaving them twitching in the blissful rush of a sugar high. Why did this year have to be any different? Dany pouted as she stared at the card arrangements varying from the extravagant saccharine glittery cards to simple brown cards with only a red heart.

“Dany?”

Dany snapped up to see Rhaella scowling at her. “Now, please?”

Dany reached back over, grabbing a safe Tiny Toons card box as she rushed over towards her mother to check out.  

Later after her dance practice. Dany bounded up the stairs towards her room. She flopped herself down on her bed, an arm covering her face, an earlier irritation still throbbing behind her eyes. Today’s dance lesson had been a disaster. She had been distracted and missing ques, very much unlike her and so much so that her instructor chastised her and informed her mother. Dany remained silent while her mother reminded her of the importance of paying attention even with tomorrow's events. Dany agreed but her thoughts kept wandering back to the box of cards now lying on her desk with Margaery cooled voice ‘it’s different this year, just trust me’ ricocheting through her thoughts.

“Tough day sister?”

Dany cracked her eyes open to see Vis leaning against her doorframe, studying his nails. “I’d thought you’d be all excited about tomorrow little party. It’s your favorite holiday.” His voice taking a condescending tone.

Dany pushed herself onto her elbows, narrowing her gaze at her annoying brother. "Shut it, Vis."

He clicked his tongue against his teeth, walking into her room settling against her desk. She hated it when he just invited himself into her space. It only aggravated her. "Attitude I see, this wouldn't have something to do with the little ragtag team that came by earlier would it?"  

“Who?” Dany perked up. Margaery as she told them that afternoon was ‘prepping’ for tomorrow. Missandei had indoor soccer practice, so who was Vis referring to?

“Oh you know, those boys the three of you hang out with?”

It couldn’t have been Jon he had swim practice and gods know where Theon and Robb were but they never came to her house, she always met them.

“It was probably for homework, no big deal.” she shrugged.

Vis gaze narrowed in on her, his lips pulling into a scowl. "That's it? no blushing, no giggling?"

Dany brows pulled into a perplex expression under Vis’s scrutiny. "Well, your no fun. At least Margaery and Missy bite when I tease," he smirked.

Dany rolled her eyes tossing a pillow at Vis. Ever since he discovered a few magazine clippings of Keanu Reeves that he had become unbearable with his taunting and teasing, jokes and questions about who she had a crush on and his condescending advice.  She hated it and wished Rhae was home. Dany stood up from her desk, failing to forcefully remove him from her room. “Bye Vis.”

He resisted her pushing and prodding, chuckling at her efforts until their mother called up the stairs that a ‘Jayla’ was on the phone for him. Dany bit back a giggle of seeing the perpetual smirk drop from his face, the top of his ears now pink as he ducked out of her room to receive the phone call.

Dany closed her door, settling behind her desk as she started her homework for the night.

Margaery had been right. It was different.

Dany peaked out from behind her hand as people around them open up their bags of Valentine's cards and candy. Dany had thought she had done it right by picking a safe set of Tiny Toons cards with the candy hearts. She signed her name on them and randomly handed them out. Easy right? Oh, how wrong she had been.  

“So, Dany?”

Dany lifted her gaze to see Theon leering at her, holding the Buster Bunny card she had given him in his hand. “You’ll stand on your ear for me eh?” he chuckled.

Dany closed her eyes, wincing. It was a joke, one that Theon’s had to misconstrue into something more. She felt her face flush with embarrassment. “It’s a joke Theon.”

He shook his head still grinning. “Nope, I don’t think it’s a joke. I think you like me.” He winked.

“I told you,” Margaery sing-song whispered next to her.  

The nervous embarrassment churning in her stomach quickly turned into hot anger. Dany brushed her silver bangs out of her eyes, glaring at Theon.

“Careful Theon,” Robb warned from an adjacent seat. “Dragon Queen remember?”

Theon’s eyes instantly widened, the bobbing of his throat as he nervously swallowed, looking away. He glanced down at the pile of candy in front of him, picking up candy heart that Dany taped to his card. She groaned, closing her eyes.

"Kiss me? Huh, Targaryen?" He waved the heart at her, grinning as he puckered his lips making kissing noises at her.  

Missy snorted next to her, giggling as she ate more chocolate. Dany grip tightened on the table and was about to reach over, swatting his stupid lips off his face when Jon thwacked him hard against the back of his head.

Theon yelped, his head jerking forward and snapping towards Jon. He pulled his arm back ready to retaliate but Robb intervenes with a patient arm separating the two. Jon looked over to Dany giving a small smile that Dany returned. The tension at their table quickly returned to normal banter when Robb asked Missy to trade his third chocolate heart for two of her sugar cookies. They continued to trade candy, eat cookies and cupcakes till they were dismissed by the bell.

Dany stepped out of the school, tucking her jacket firmly around her, her hat pulled low, protecting her from the chill in the air. She started her familiar route home when she heard someone call her from behind. She turned to see Jon jogging to catch up with her.

“I thought you had practice today?”

Jon shook his head. “Cancelled, problems with the pool’s pump room. What about dance?”

“My instructor has a hot date tonight so canceled,” she giggled, wagging her eyebrows.

Jon chuckled as he fell in step next to her.

“Did you get any good cards this year?” she asked.

“Not really, a lot of generic ‘Happy Valentine’s Day’ ones. I did get a big heart one from Ellie, the girl that sits between us in history. What about you?”

Dany smirked, shaking her head. She did get some generic ‘Happy Valentine’s Day’ cards, and some cute ‘You’re my Valentine’ ones from Missy and Margaery. She did get one sweet card that read ‘Be mine’ from a guy she had never spoken to in her English class, that left her unsure of how to respond to the sweet gesture. “Same, I told you, Jon, when you smiled more and aren’t brooding you’ll get more today and look what happened you got a heart card from Eleanor,” she teased, nudging her shoulder against his.

Jon looked down at her, shaking his head. Muttering about she’s just a friend as they reached the corner. Dany turned to head the rest of the way when she turned to see Jon kicking at the frozen thatch of grass. He looked up at her, his grey eyes intently studying her before he huffed pulling his backpack off his back, opening and settling it on the ground. He dug around for a few minutes before he stood up with a dark red card in hand.

Dany looked at the card and back at him. He had given her an X-men Valentine with a dark chocolate heart. He wordlessly gestured for her to take it. Dany took the card from his hand.

“What’s this?”

“Just something extra,” he looked away, focusing on his shoes while rubbing the back of his neck. “To say thanks.”

“For?”

Jon sighed, “Just, thanks.” He grimaced, turning to walk in the opposite direction but stopped, looking over his shoulder. “What are you doing tomorrow afternoon?”  

“After dance lessons, nothing why?”

A mischievous grin pulled Jon’s features. “I’ve found an abandoned tower in the Wolfwood's. Wanna explore it with me?”

“Of course,” she grinned.

“I’ll meet you at two, and wear something that can get dirty, not like last time,” he warned.

Dany two steps forward, reaching out, shoving him in his right shoulder. Last time had been one of their spur of the moment adventures that led them to an isolated section of the park. Her mother had been furious when she returned covered in mud with her new jean jacket ruined.

She made a funny face, sticking out her tongue. “Fine, later McBroody.”

Jon returned a mocking expression, crossing his eyes and sticking out his tongue. “Bye Dragon Queen.”

They went their separate ways towards the others home. Dany reached her house and quickly greeted her mother before running up the stairs to her bedroom. She closed and locked the door behind her, Jon’s card burning in her hand.

She sat down on her bed to open it. Inside was what looked like a homemade card. She pulled it out to see a hand-drawn picture of Batman and Robin. I didn’t know Jon could draw? It was Batman and Robin flying through the air with the illuminated Gotham city sprawled below them. Dany ran her fingers along with the drawing, the detail was fantastic. It reminded her of a panel from one of her favorite comic books. Hang on, she reached over to her bedside table and shifted through the magazines and books there, retrieving a copy of All-star Batman.  She opened it to see the artwork in question. Jon had recreated the entire scene down to the tiniest detail. It was beautiful. She stared stunned at the card when she realized it opened up. Inside she discovered a winter rose pressed in wax paper. She remembered seeing these in his uncle’s greenhouse last year. She lifted it from the card to see on the inside written in Jon’s familiar scrawl. ‘You are the Robin to my Batman, thanks for being my friend- Jon’  

Dany beamed at the message. Jon could get on her nerves and they could push each other’s buttons that cause them to constantly bicker but all aside ever since last spring Dany knew she could count on him being there and considered him as one of her best friends. Dany leaned back on her headboard a silly grin plaster across her face as she pressed the card to her chest, a warm fuzzing feeling radiating from the sweet gesture. The front door opening and her father and Vis’s voices breaking through her bliss. She quickly but gingerly returned the card to its envelope and tucked them both away into the trunk she kept hidden under her bed.

“Dany!” Vis yelled. “It’s your turn to put the dishes away!"

“I did it last week it’s your turn!” she yelled back, closing the door behind her as she jogged down the stairs into the kitchen. Her father glanced up from behind her blushing mother. Vis mocked gagged behind them, before pulling her over to the dishwasher.

She opened her mouth to protest but her father raised his hand with a stern look. “I don’t care who does it. Just get it done.”

He turned leading her mother into the living room, where Dany spied a bouquet of lilies on the table. Dany smiled and started unloading the dishwasher while Vis started washing the dishes. She noticed a reddish bruise on her brother collarbone, Vis turned back towards her catching her staring. He smirked, “You’ll learn all about these one day soon D, but” his eyes darted towards the dining room, voice lowering. “If you ever get one of these make sure it’s where it can’t be seen or Father will kill the guy…or girl.” He winked.

Dany gave a bewildered expression at Vis, he’s always been hard to anticipate. Dany chalked up his comment of another moment of Vis being Vis and continued her chores while she thought about what tomorrow’s adventure with Jon would entail.

A/N: If you made it here, thanks for reading. This may go up on Ao3 eventually so we’ll see. OIAL is wrapping up on my end just gotta start posting it. 

[inthedayswhenlandswerefew]

Baby You Were My Picket Fence [Chapter 3: Light My Fire]

You are a first grade teacher in sunny Los Angeles, California. Ben Hardy is the father of your most challenging student. Things quickly get complicated in this unconventional love story.  

Song inspiration: Miss Missing You by Fall Out Boy.

Chapter warnings: Language.

Link to chapter list (and all my writing) HERE

Taglist: @blushingwueen @queen-turtle-boiii @everybodyplaythegame @onceuponadetectivedemigod @luvborhap @sincereleygmg @stormtrprinstilettos @loveandbeloved29 @ohtheseboysilove @jennyggggrrr @vanitysfairr @bramblesforbreakfast @radiob-l-a-hblah @xox-talia-xox @killer-queen-xo 

You open the front door and there he is: black button-up shirt, navy jeans, chic but not overdressed. His hair is neatly gelled back from his forehead. In his arms are a lug wrench, a car jack, and a brand new tire wrapped in an oversized, floppy red bow like a Christmas present.

“I think normal guys bring flowers,” you comment.

“I figured...since you’re automotively illiterate and all...you probably hadn’t gotten around to replacing the spare yet.” He shoots a glance at your Elantra, then announces victoriously: “I was right!”

“Mr. Hardy...Ben...I really can’t allow you to perform any more free labor.”

“Five minutes,” he calls over his shoulder as he trots to your car. He has trouble with one of the lug nuts, so it takes him six and a half.

“You can come inside,” you tell him once he’s finished. “I won’t be long, I just have to water my plants.”

Ben raises an eyebrow. It’s dark and rather undomesticated, yet endearing. “I feel like there must be better stalling tactics than that. If you’ve got cold feet, I can handle rejection.” But what he can’t do is disguise the way his shoulders slump, the way he bites the corner of his lower lip apprehensively.

“No, really, it’s totally stupid, but I’m really trying not to kill this batch and if I don’t water them now I’m going to be stressing about it until I get home, and I don’t want to be thinking about houseplants all night, I want to be thinking about...” You wave your hand towards Ben inarticulately. “You know. You.”

He smiles, showing his teeth, his eyes lit up like embers, flickering and radiant and warm. “Take your time, Martha Stewart.” 

“My parents give me so much hell for this,” you call back to him as you flutter around the living room, standing on your tiptoes and reaching around furniture to water your peace lilies and spider plants and devil’s ivy and one wilting ponytail palm. “They’re farmers. They’re professional life-givers. I’m lucky if I can keep the cactuses alive.”

You hear Ben rambling around the kitchen. “I hope your nurturing skills are at least marginally better with first graders.”

You laugh, nodding even though he can’t see you. “I’m alright with those. I’m just more of a rock person than a plant person. Gems and minerals and volcanic glass...fossils and bones and teeth...that’s where the magic is for me.”

“I can see that. Dinosaurs are well-represented in your extensive fridge magnet collection.” There are clicks and scrapes as he rearranges them: prehistoric animals and tiny planets, peace signs and alphabet letters and cross-sections of agate. “These are so cool!” he exclaims.  

You bustle back into the kitchen, place your watering can in the sink, and wipe your hands with a dishtowel patterned with cartoon brontosauruses. “Ready?” Your eyes flick to the refrigerator. He’s organized your magnets into a giant smiley face. It’s ridiculous, it’s juvenile; but you feel this liberatingly simple joy flooding through you like early autumn air. And the way Ben’s grinning at you—a little mischievous, a little proud—reminds you so much of Eli that your breath catches in your throat. You have no idea who Eli’s mother was, but her genetics were omnipotent; it’s almost impossible to find any of Ben in him at all. But every once in a while there’s an unconscious gesture, an off-kilter smile, and suddenly you can see the common threads that wove them into being like spiders’ webs.

“Ready,” Ben agrees.

You smooth your dress as you slip into the passenger’s seat of his Lexus, placing your purse between your feet, checking your hair and makeup in the sun visor mirror. Ben glances over at you as he shifts the car into reverse and roars out of your driveway. Your hands aren’t shaking, your heartbeat is hushed, there’s no hot rushing blood in your cheeks or ears; this shocks you. It’s eerie how inexplicably at ease you are.

“Find something good,” he says, pointing to the radio.

You seize the dial. “Uh oh. My first test?”

He smiles, his eyes on the road now. “Choose something lame and I abandon you at the nearest sketchy-looking gas station.”

You flip through stations until you find Somebody To Love. “I work hard, every day of my life, I work ‘til I ache in my bones...” “Okay, how I’d do?”

Ben steals a suspicious peek over at you. “Are you fucking with me?”

“What?” you ask, bewildered. “No, why?”

He shakes his head. “Never mind. You definitely pass. You’re a Queen person?”

“Oh yeah, absolutely, I adore Queen. Most classic rock, actually.”

“So have you, uh...” He touches his chin thoughtfully, what you’re quickly realizing is a little nervous tic. It’s cute as hell. Goddammit, daddy demon, stop being so fucking perfect. “Did you ever see Bohemian Rhapsody?” But something gives you the impression he already knows you haven’t.

“Not yet,” you confess.

“Not interested?”

“It’s not that, I just...” You hesitate, trying to put it into words. “I know it did well and all. But I guess I’m skeptical of anyone trying to play Freddie Mercury. He was a legend, he was one of a kind. So are the rest of them. Those are massive shoes to fill. It seems like setting the actors up to pale in comparison.”

“I’ve heard it was pretty good,” Ben presses, almost teases.

“Yeah, maybe...”

“And Rami won the Oscar. So his portrayal must have been satisfactory.”

“Okay, oh my god, I’ll see it, are you happy now? Were you on the marketing team or what?”

You’re only half-serious, but Ben chuckles evasively. “So you like old rocks and old music,” he pivots. “But not old not-boyfriends. Except Jeff Goldblum.”

“This is news to me. I sincerely thought you were sixty.”

He laughs, a full gutsy laugh this time, a laugh that says he’s caught-off guard and thrilled about it. “That’s okay. I’m into old stuff too.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Old music, classic rock, just like you. But old books too.”

“Gatsby?”

His eyebrows leap up; you’re watching his face as streetlamps illuminate the car in reiterating flashes like a spinning pulsar. God, he’s beautiful. “How’d you guess that?”

“Eli’s middle name is Fitzgerald. That’s not a common one.”

“Ah,” Ben says, and his full lips turn up at the edges into a smile, proudly, fondly.

“I really like it.” That’s the truth; Eli’s a handful and that’s a titanic understatement—though he has been better the last few days, the only blip on the upward trend being his attempt to convince Brayden to eat a live cricket by paying him in Oreos—but his name is classic and elegant and a few literary references here and there never hurt anyone.

“Yeah, that was me,” Ben reveals. “His mother insisted on choosing his first name, I think she heard Eli somewhere and just liked the sound of it. But she let me pick the middle name. And The Great Gatsby was always my favorite book...and The Beautiful and the Damned, and This Side of Paradise?! Freaking incredible. In my humble opinion F. Scott Fitzgerald is a certifiable genius. So...Eli Fitzgerald.” There’s a color in his voice you can’t quite read: the golden yellow of reminiscence, the murky blue of loss, the grey nothingness of depression, the bloody maroon of deep pain or resentment. Who was she, Ben? How did she hurt you? And could I ever fill those hollow places you’re carrying around like pocket change?

He asks how Eli is doing in class, and you tell him; you ask about his favorite classic rock bands, and he answers: Boston and AC/DC and The Stones and Queen. His Lexus cruises by your go-to dinner spots—the affordable chains like Noodles and Co. and Panera and Chipotle—then past the mid-level raw vegan and farm-to-table joints, and finally into the neighborhood reserved for fine dining establishments with three-figure price tags and reservations booked up months in advance.

“Uh...” you begin. “I don’t think we’re going to get a spot at a place down here.”

“Think again.” He parallel parks with absurd ease in front of an Italian-Japanese fusion restaurant called Nejire. There’s a line of people in suits and evening gowns waiting at the door. You feel like a minnow in a shark tank.

“Ben...”

He comes around to your side of the car, opens the door, and holds out his hand. “You trust me?”

Do I? You take his hand in yours like a life raft. “Don’t let me down, Mr. Hardy.”

Unpredictably, fantastically, he brings your knuckles to his lips. “You got it.”

He spirits you inside, past the line of waiting customers, past the hostess and waitresses; they glimpse up and nod at Ben as he draws you through the main dining room and back to a VIP table in a dimly-lit, quiet corner of the restaurant. Oh, you realize with awe and trepidation. He’s an important guy.

You take your seat and open a menu as waitresses array full glasses of water and wine across the table. There’s nothing under fifty dollars. You flip to the salad page, searching desperately.

“What are you doing?” Ben asks gently.

“Um, nothing, just browsing...”

“You’re not paying for any of this,” he says point-blankly.  

“That’s not very feminist of you,” you quip, but on the inside you’re sinking. This is too much, this is way too much. I can’t let him do this for me.

“I’ll explain later. Trust me, we’re good. Order something expensive or I’ll do it for you.”

“I’m a teacher, Ben. My idea of luxury is Olive Garden.”

He grins at you boldly, almost roguishly. “Oh we are going to have so much fun together, Miss Y/L/N.”

Orders are placed, wine is sipped, appetizers are ferried to the table. As you nibble on ahi tuna tartare and caprese sushi, you find yourself lost in how Ben motions wildly with his hands as he tells stories, how his large emerald-or-jade-or-malachite eyes gleam when he’s animated, how his voice is so rich and deep and yet mild, how it suddenly feels like you’ve known him your entire life. Oh no. Oh no, I like this guy a LOT.

Ben abruptly stops eating and cracks his knuckles. “So there’s something I need to tell you. Since we’re...” Air quotes. “Not dating.”

Oh fuck. He’s married or something. “Okay. I’m listening.”

“It’s about my job.”

Whew. “Ah yes, your elusive profession. You can tell me the truth if you’re a dogwalker or a circus clown or something. It’s always nice to out-earn someone. Actually, dogwalkers in L.A. probably make more than me...”

“I’m an actor.”

“Oh,” you reply cautiously. “Like, for tv shows or independent films?”

“No,” he says, amused. “For major films.”

I knew he was too fucking gorgeous to be a normal person. What am I doing here? “Like what?”

“Well, recently, Bohemian Rhapsody.”

You choke on the white wine you’re drinking and cough and gasp into your cloth napkin.

“You okay?” Ben asks. “Don’t die. You can’t die yet. You haven’t tried their tempura crème brûlée.”

“You...” You cough once more. “You were in the movie that made $900 million dollars...?”

He grins toothily. “So you were keeping up with it!”

“It was hard to miss that tidbit. It was all over the news. BoRhap won the Golden Globe.” Your head is spinning. “You’re an actor,” you repeat.

“I played Roger Taylor.” The brilliant, obscenely good-looking drummer, the man who wrote Radio Ga Ga and These Are The Days Of Our Lives and A Kind Of Magic.

“Oh my god, Ben!”

“I mean, I’ve been in other things too—”

“Ben!”

“Look, relax, we’re cool. I’m not telling you this to freak you out, I’m just explaining that you don’t have to worry about dropping a few hundred bucks at dinner. You have a right to know who I am if we’re going to be...involved. And there’s something else.” He wrings his hands. “I have to be...discrete about my personal life. Try to stay under the radar.” But now that effortless comfort is strained somehow, weighted, ominous; Ben averts his eyes. There’s a presence in the room like a storm cloud, trapped pulsing lightening igniting the opacity from within.

“Sure,” you say, thinking that a life in the spotlight can’t always be easy. “Lowkey. I got it.”

“Awesome.” He’s relieved.

“I have to keep it on the down-low too. I’m a pretty important person myself. A bunch of six-year-olds would lose their minds if they knew about my extracurricular activities. They would color such scandalous pictures in art class. Premarital dinner dates, maybe even handholding. Yikes.”

That makes Ben chuckle; the shadow is nearly lifted. “Keep drinking, Miss Y/L/N. I’m loving this.”

And it should feel weird or frightening or wrong that he’s using the word love this soon, this casually; but it doesn’t at all. It feels anything but wrong.

~~~~~~~~~~

Your feet are on your kitchen floor, your palms empty. Ben’s fidgeting around, his hands in and out of his jean pockets; it seems like he’s trying to say goodbye, but maybe he’s not.

“So...” he ventures.

You wonder if he’ll touch you, if he’ll kiss you. You try to catch his eyes, but they’re everywhere except meeting yours. “Hold that thought.”

You dash down the hall to your bathroom to smooth your hair, touch up your makeup, swish some Listerine. On the way back to the kitchen, you stop in the living room to check on your plants. If it’s possible, they look a little perkier than they did when you left a few hours ago. You run your fingertips over the broad leaves of your peace lilies, smiling faintly to yourself. “Maybe we’re going to make it after all,” you whisper.

You hear the distinct clicking sound of iPhone texting. “Oh shit,” Ben mutters from the kitchen. “I’m sorry, I gotta go, Y/N, okay? I gotta run. But I’ll call you. I’ll see you soon.”

“Okay, just a sec...” But by the time you rush into the kitchen to say goodbye, Ben is gone, the screen door swinging forlornly. Puzzled, you lock the door behind him as headlights flare to life in the driveway and swiftly retreat into the night. Then you turn around.

Your fridge magnets are rearranged again, this time in the shape of a heart.

[howdoyoudothedew]

Another long SPN post

This time it’s notes from my WIPs. I never actually really wrote any of these, but tags and titles are included. Anyone can use these as starting points for a fanfic, have fun

Henry/Balthazar Summary: When Henry’s mentor, Benny, doesn’t return from the war Henry is saddened. He refuses to believe Benny died. Won’t even entertain it. On the way to find his missing mentor/father figure, he meets Balthazar. A strange man with a british accent and a habit of flirting with everyone, especially him. He finds Benny. He finds love. THen Balthazar tells him he’s from another time period and has to go. The last chapter is Balthazar saving Henry from Abaddon. Side note: Henry has blue eyes that Balthy apparently likes to wax poetic about Chapter One The day’s circled on his calendar. ‘Benny comes home’. That would be today. Or, it would’ve been. He had gotten the letter a week ago. ‘Benjamin Lafitte died in the war. We send our condolences.’ The letter, of course, wasn’t actually as cold and unfeeling as that. But it didn’t matter. Because it felt like that. It felt like someone had taken him and shoved him in an ice bath. He couldn’t believe the letter. He wouldn’t believe the letter. Benny had promised he’d live through this war. And if he had to find him, then by golly he’d find him. Even if he had to do it on his own. Henry snuck out of the bunker that night. A pack of food was the only thing he brought with him. That, and a picture of him and Benny. No one caught him on the way out. He knew the passages too well. He stole a bike from the garage, and left. There would be no note left in his absence. No trace of where he’d gone. Because if he’d left one, he worried that they’d try to find him. Find him and drag him back. But he couldn’t go back. Not now. Not without Benny. New section He’d been on the hunt for four days now. Had traveled from Lebanon, Kansas to Chattanooga, Tennessee and was slowly making his way to the Georgia coastline. His plan was to check coastal cities first. Then he’d work inwards till he covered all of the US. He only hoped Benny would return here and not go to another country. This is where he runs into Balthazar It’s when he’s asking a bartender if he’d ever seen Benny, while showing his picture Balthy comes up to him and says “Are you from around here, because you’re a perfect ten.”

----

Don't Make Bets With Love Goddesses Five chapters Alternative meeting, canon divergent, Gabriel is Loki, Aphro has her son arrow multiple people, but Gabe bypasses them all “You cheated!” “That never seemed to matter to you before, now how did I cheat?” “Eros shot Sam with an arrow!” “My son’s arrow never touched the Winchester.” Everyone has what the humans would call a ‘soulmate’, not everyone finds them and they're not always romantic. It looks like Gabe found his, though.

Chapter One Explains how Loki has messed around, yet has never fallen in love “I will never fall in love” the Norse god boasted. He was talking out of his ass, and Aphrodite knew it. Loki bets Aphrodite that he will never fall in love She accepts with a wicked twinkle in her eye Aphro has never been able to pass up bets, especially when they deal with love He was close once, with Kali, but it ultimately fell flat It didn’t even actually fall flat with Gabe, but with Kali who could sense his growing attachment and cut off their involvement before it could happen. They had made a promise to each other that their thing would remain ‘no strings attached’. Then years where nothing happens

Chapter Two Sam enters the scene He’s tall and handsome; funny, sarcastic, witty. And he’s one of the only people Gabe has ever met that won’t take his crap. That will see right through it. Gabriel vows right then and there that he won’t fall in love with Sam.

----

Different Circumstances Summary: Where the first meeting isn't of a boy with demon blood and an archangel, hidden as a trickster god, disguised as a janitor. Nor is the second meeting, or the third, or even the fifth. Until suddenly it is and the world seems just that much more messed up. Six chapters Tags: Canon divergent, Canon universe, 5 + 1 format, fluff, angst

Chapter One High school Gabe is the ‘bad kid’ They bond over pranks, and Gabe teaches Sam a few tricks

Chapter Six Sam connects all the dots and realizes the few people he had met in his life, the ones other than Jess that he had clicked with on automatic, were all the same person. Where all the trickster, Loki the god of mischief, and Gabriel the messenger of God. He hadn’t even clicked with Jess as quickly as he had seemed to click with each and every version of Gabe he had met. And now he was gone.

----

To Heal A Soul Summary: Castiel isn't the only angel who tried to save Sam Winchester from the Cage. But while Castiel got a body, the other found only a soul. Tiny and broken, frayed at the edges, yet still somehow alive curled up in the corner of the Cage. Gabe keeps and heals Sam’s soul until he feels that it could be replaced with minimum consequences, when he does replace it there is still a battle. Gabe can’t help him with this battle, none of Team Free Will can. Gabe's dog is Max Chapter One Gabe gets Sam’s soul, just his soul, from the Cage because he knows what’ll happen if he puts his soul back in his body after Lucifer had ripped it out Sam gets a different… form type thing. Like, I don’t know Gabe uses pagan magic to give Sam a body like his own Explains to Sam the situation

----

Stacy’s Dad (Lafittz) Tags: help me for i know not what im doing, i love this song and had to do this though, babysitter!garth, single father!benny, female teen oc, benny is older than garth by a few years, dilf!Benny, Notes: I'm sorry for the dilf tag, but I thought of it and it was too funny to me to not include it. Garth’s turned twenty a day ago, and is babysitting Benny’s kid (she’s twelve, so it’s not exactly babysitting) Benny’s thirty (his wife and him had Stacy when they were eighteen, they married right out of high school) Garth asks Benny out, saying that he promised him when he was eleven he’d go out with him when he turned twenty Stacy and Garth go to the pool, where Benny may work as a lifeguard Or, Stacy met Garth during her freshman year and they hit it off immediately as friends But Stacy liked Garth, and when he met Stacy’s dad it was practically love at first sight. (Because he's mushy like that) Or Benny and Andrea had her at sixteen, and Benny was estatic. Sure, it was early and he wasn't sure if he was ready, but he'd be damned if he didn't try to be a good father.

----

Scarecrow Summary: Remake where Cas is a “hunter” who Dean picks up on the way to ----, he's working the same case and they decide to pretend to be a couple to solve it. Also, instead of Meg, Sam runs into Gabriel because he picks him up on the road before he got to Meg. Sam’s part is inspired in part by the honeythief amv. Tags: s01e11 Scarecrow, rewrite, i tried, canon divergent, canon hopping, beginning unchanged, fake/pretend relationship, bonding(????) Dean picks up Cas either along the road (a parallel of their brothers) or at the food place he and Sammy split A man slid into the seat Sam had vacated, black hair Dean could only describe as bedroom hair, piercing blue eyes, and a trenchcoat. “So you're going after the missing couples, too?” The other couple isn't there, instead the people there immediately assume they're a couple Cas immediately goes with it and when Dean asks about it later he simply shrugs and explains that this job seemed to require some falsehood

---- Short ficlet where they find Narnia. “I thought you'd already been to Narnia given how deep inside the closet you are,” Gabriel joked.

----

Sabriel Anniversary Sam: Gabriel, I figured we could go where I first fell in love with you. Gabriel: Sam, I'd rather not… Sam: Why not? Gabriel: I have bad memories there. Sam, in surprise: Bad memories? I mean , sure we tried to kill you Gabriel: Lucifer killed me. Sam: Oh… Oh! You were thinking Elysian Fields? I meant Crawford Hall! Gabriel: What? Sam nervously rubs the back of his neck while looking away: Yeah… Could never really get you out of my head after that. *looks back at him* Even when I really wanted to. ----

Everytime they find Gabriel again, Sam wants to ask Gabriel to help. He wants him to stay. Though he tells himself it's not for him, but the world. But then they leave him behind in that ring of holy fire. And he… dies. At the hands of Lucifer. Sam thinks that's it. But then he shows up again, only to save him and leave him. (But it wasn't just him- it was Castiel as well, he has to remind himself for the next few weeks till it sticks.) So this time Sam swallows everything down, and he tells himself it's okay. Gabriel would've never stayed. And that's fine. Then Gabriel's back again, and he finally agrees to be on their team. He finally agrees to simply stay, even if it isn't for him. So of course he has to die all over again. ----

A rebound. Gabriel knows that's exactly what this is. After knowing Sam for all these years, he can read him. Read him easier than he can read himself. Heck, he knew Jess and Sam’d date the second he saw them together. And just as he knew, a month later they were dating. So yeah, Gabriel knew how to read Sam and how he felt about others. Romantic feelings just weren't there for him. Sure, Sam sounded sincere. He truly believed he liked Gabriel, and Gabriel knew that. But he knew his best friend and he knew the feelings were just his body’s half-assed attempt at fixing whatever hole Jess had left him with that he refused to recognize.

“I'm not ready.” It's not a lie. Gabriel isn't ready to date anyone, even if he loves Sam with all his heart. But he refused to be a rebound. He told the girlfriend Sam has before Jess- Ruby- as much when she gave him her twisted blessing after Sam broke up with her. If Sam knew that's what he was looking for in Gabriel, it would crush him. The poor kid would feel terrible, and Gabriel knows it. That is something he won't allow. Sam deserved happiness, but it couldn't be with him. Not now. Maybe not ever.

---- Crime Cleaners crime scene cleaners sam and dean who get roped into something well above their paygrade by two particular Novaks, possible villain being Luci and Lilith, who is his 'queen' they definitely get help from their friend Bobby and the Novak's friends Charlie, Rowena, and Rowena's girlfriend, the coroner Billie Or, serial killers God and his Righteous Man, who are secretly Dean and Cas. Gabe and Sam are the ones trying to find them.

----

John Winchester and Chuck Shurley meet the parents thing. John first meets Cas, and Dean explains that Cas is his husband. Then he meets Gabriel, Sam’s bondmate-husband- and an archangel. When he mentions how weird this is, Gabriel is the one who points out that “If you think it's weird that your son in laws are angels, just remember that their father in law is literally God.”

----

Normal au, Gabriel shows up out of nowhere because he has to do a blood sugar test to check for diabetes or some shit and he just grabs Sam: “I need your blood.”

[writtingsofspn]

With Him By My Side

Request: Jensen reader where she is 22 and they fall in love he is her first everything and he is very protective of her on night there’s a thunder and she is scared and he takes care of her. People say that she is a gold digger but he is at a con and says the he never loved someone the way he loves the reader...(there’s some more but you get the gist)

Pairing: Jensen x reader (my first woo!)

A/N: This took me forever and I didn’t have the best week so just thank you to @webcraft4eveh for tagging me in things just to cheer me up it always makes me week @wonderfulworldofwinchester for putting some of my fics on her reading list it really got me a ton more notes and @thebooklover2020 for the gifs! You guys really reminded me that people do enjoy my writing and helped motivated me to finish this so thank you so much!!

Deep breath in, deep breath out. If Jensen could do it you could do it.

Sure Jensen had years of experience with these under his belt, this is his literal job, and he knew at least somewhat what they were going to ask him.

But yeah if Jensen could do it you could do it, sure.

Your stomach was in knots, you could feel your entire body not just shaking but vibrating. It was as if the nervousness from every speech you’ve ever had to give was hitting you at once. But at least all of those times you had something prepared, you already knew what you were going to say, you didn’t here. You had nothing here.

Familiar green eyes made contact with yours from across the stage, a wink and smile sent in your direction and despite everything you felt a genuine one grow on your own face.

Scratch that you had one thing, you had him, and you honestly felt like that was enough.

“It would seem she’s a little shy” The laugh in his voice caught your attention, pulled you from your own little bubble, made you aware of the microphone being shoved into your hand.

Deep breath in, deep breath out, one foot in front of the other, and you were met with a wall of sound.

Cheers, they were cheering for you, they actually wanted to see you, that was new.

Your thumb hovered over the button, hesitating just as it did every time you did this. With a small sigh you clicked back to the photo, your lips turning up just slightly at the sight of it. It was an objectively cute photo, Jensen leaning over to kiss your cheek well you laughed into the camera, a genuine laugh that made you grin at the thought of it.

You friend had taken the photo for you and from that moment was gushing about how you just had to post it. And she wasn’t wrong, you were excited to post it, to show off your boyfriend and gush about your relationship, but that damn comments section.

You had learned long ago that disabling it was safest, many people had not even waited until you and Jensen made you relationship public to attack you, instead going back onto old photos of you and leaving nasty comments. And at first it wasn’t a big deal, just disable their ability to leave comments and you wouldn’t have to read them anymore, not that you ever really paid attention to your comments section.

But as the saying goes you never know what you have until its gone.

As stupid as you felt admitting it you loved reading people’s comments, compliments, teasing from your friends, Jared always making note to make fun of Jensen, you missed it.

So before you could talk yourself out of it you posted the picture. Setting down the phone right away, almost scared something would pop up immediately.

But of course nothing did, they gave you a good five minutes to enjoy your day before tearing it to shreds.

You jumped at the notification sound in spite of yourself, immediately reaching for the phone and checking it, the first comment coming in.

GOLD DIGGER

You knew that was ridiculous, you were an independent woman, you could more than survive on your own salary alone, you definitely weren’t just dating him for his salary. But damn did the insinuation hurt.

Another one

She’s not even that pretty I don’t understand why he would choose her

Had you an optimistic bone in your body you would have fixated on the latter part of that sentence, the fact that yes he choose you, but of course you chose to focus on the former, even worse you agreed with it. There was no arguing it Jensen was way out of your league, in attractiveness, in social standing, hell economically speaking if we want to go there, and they for sure did, so why did he chose you?

Jensen deserves so much more than you

He did, didn’t he.

You could feel a lump grow in your throat at the memory, biting your lip before awkwardly taking the seat next to Jensen, waving to the crowd you couldn’t even see behind the bright lights.

“You’re doing great”

The words were comfortingly whispered into your ear, tips of hair from the scruff on his face tickling your neck, sending another smile across your face. Maybe you could do this afterall.

“Anyone have any questions for the beautiful Y/N?” Jared’s voice boomed over the speakers, pulling you back.

“How did you and Jensen meet?” The voice came from one area but the lights were much to bright to discern exactly who was talking.

“uh-“ You started to panic a bit, trying desperately to force yourself to calm down enough to speak.

“I’m just saying the blip is a stupid name that seeks to lessen the loss of five years for half of the population” You muttered, catching the amused smirk your friend had on her face.

“And I’m just saying its all fictional and you need to get over it” She couldn’t keep the laughter out of her voice, loving how defensive you got over the subject .

“well I-“ You started to counter, honestly not 100 percent sure where you were going to go with the sentence when you collided hard with another person’s shoulder, sending both of you spinning around, nearly falling to the ground.

“Oh my god I’m so sorry” You immediately started to apologize, reaching over ready to help the man up when you stopped dead in your tracks as familiar green eyes connected with yours. “You’re Jensen Ackles”

A small smirk flashed across his face as he stood up straighter, you immediately following suit, cursing yourself for those words. “Last time I checked yeah I am”

“Oh does it change often?” You didn’t even think before the words came spilling out of your mouth, your knee jerk reaction always to return sarcasm with sarcasm.

His eyebrows raised just slightly, his smile just getting a bit wider “As an actor actually yeah it does”

“touché” You chuckled, immediate rearing up ready to apologize again for knocking him over and taking up his time stating the obvious, when he got to filling the silence first.

“Well since you already know my name I think it’s only fair that I should know yours”

Alarms started going off in your head. Was that flirting, was he flirting with you? Jensen Ackles, an actual celebrity, an incredibly attractive one at that, there was just no way.

“I’m Y/N”

His hands dug deep in his pockets and his tongue darted out to graze his bottom lip, you could feel your whole body freeze at the simple action.

“You seem quite sure of that”

“As a non-actor I can afford to be” You quipped, relishing in the fact that he was actually laughing at your jokes.

“Jensen we gotta go man” It was the first time you realized there were other people watching you, looking away from his gorgeous eyes long enough to catch a glance from your friend sending a deep blush on your cheeks.

“Yeah yeah” He brushed off the people he was with, looking back at you “I’ll see you around Y/N”

You chuckled softly before giving him an awkward wave “probably not” His eyebrows drew together causing you to continue “Sorry I know you just meant it as a nice sentiment just ignore me” more silence, more waiting for you to continue “I mean it’s not like we run in the same circles”

“well then can I have your number to make sure I do see you around”

You could feel the wind being knocked out of your chest, he really was hitting on you. You couldn’t get your voice to work, only giving him a slight nod before reaching out to take his phone, putting your contact information in it, checking the number three times before handing it back to him, just to be safe.

“We just bumped into eachother one day” A pun…a stupid pun…a pun they wouldn’t even get…that’s the best you could come up with.

To your relief you heard Jensen laugh next to you, jumping in to fill in the gaps immediately saving you, “she means that literally. I basically tackled her in a mall”

You laughed back, forgetting for a moment there were god knows how many people watching you, letting yourself get caught up in him, it was a nice familiar feeling.

“Where was your first date?” A random voice shouted out another question.

“We just kept it low key” You answered, relived to find this answer rolled off your tongue much easier than the last one “pizza and movies at his place”

You woke up to a small tickle on your forehead, your hand immediately coming up trying to push away the hair when you realized it wouldn’t go away, cause it wasn’t yours.

You slowly picked your head up, coming face to face with gorgeous green eyes.

“Well good morning to you too”

You looked down to see your legs thrown over his lap, your arms hanging limply around his neck, your head pressed into the crook of it, you were basically clinging onto him.

“uh-sorry” You stuttered, a blush rising quickly up your cheeks as you started to untangle yourself from him, only to have him hold onto you tighter, keeping you in place.

“You definitely have nothing to be sorry for” He assured you with a soft smile.

“good cause I’m not” You shot back with a giggle, placing your head back onto his shoulder, looking back at the tv screen to see the credits rolling through, the last remnants of your movie date night.

“What time is it?”

“1am I think” He shrugged

You cursed under your breath, burying your head a little deeper “I don’t want to leave yet”

“then don’t” He answered quickly “It’s late and also pouring down rain”

“I wouldn’t want to impose-“

“You wouldn’t be” He interrupted you “You can have the guest bed if you want”

“Are you sure” You asked him, sitting up once again to look him in the eyes.

“Of course” He chuckled, his eyes bouncing back and forth between your own.

“Then I’d like that”

“me too”

-

The rain hadn’t seemed so bad at first, just some light tapping on the window, but as the eye of the storm moved closer everything got worse. The rain itself wasn’t bad still, sounded like marbles falling onto the roof. but the thunder, that’s what scared you.

You had pulled the blankets up over your head, as if it could protect you from the deafening cracks that without fail made you jump. The lightning illuminating the room for a second giving you little warning before the sky split open.

You thought you could handle it, hands over your ears, hiding, telling yourself that it was going to be ok. But then it got to the point that the walls shook with the sound and before you knew it you were standing in front of Jensen’s door.

You decided to give it a short knock before walking right in, not entirely sure how best to handle the situation. Hesitantly you whispered his name, watching in relief as he slowly sat up, his hands going to his eyes rubbing the sleep from them.

“Y/N? what’s wrong”

You froze for a moment, unsure of what to say. You hadn’t thought any of this through and in that moment just telling him didn’t feel like the right answer. The room flooded with light for a brief moment and seconds after a loud crack, making you jump and tense up, something that didn’t go unnoticed by him.

“Come here” Was all he said, lifting up the blankets and you didn’t think twice before diving underneath them. He waisted no time in wrapping his arms around you, pulling you deep into his chest, your head resting comfortably on it.

“I’m sorry”

“You never need to be sorry” He assured you, hugging you tightly.

Another flash of lightning, another clap of thunder, another jump.

He pressed a kiss to the top of your head, mumbling into your hair “you’re ok. I’ve got you”

And in all honesty you fully believed him

“Ah right then we slept together”

You hit him on the chest right away, your cheeks dusting red as you rolled your eyes “we did not sleep together on our first date…we just slept in eachothers arms”

A chorus of ‘awws’ erupted around the room including an overzealous one coming from Jared’s chair making you blush even harder, maybe you should have just gone with Jensen’s version of events.

“Since you’ve never had to deal with the paparazzi before what’s that like?”

“It can be hard” You answered honestly, not missing the way Jensen’s hand immediately sought yours out, rubbing soft circles on the skin “especially in the beginning”

“Can I open my eyes yet?”

“No”

“how about now”

“Still no”

“now?”

“You really are a child aren’t you”

“Maybe but I’m you’re child”

“You know that was probably meant to be sweet but it just came across as kinda creepy” You laughed at him, finally pulling into a parking spot after much too long looking for one.

“Yeah not my best work” He admitted with a chuckle.

“Alright you can open your eyes”

He gasped loudly, grabbing your hand tightly, looking at you with wide eyes “how did you know I love parking lots?”

You rolled your eyes and tried to fight the smile off of your face “alright just get out of the car smartass”

He laughed in response, giving you a smirk before stepping out of the car, freezing once he finally did see where you were at “the carnival?”

“It’s its first day in town” You shrugged “thought it would be fun”

“I haven’t been in years” He laughed, staring up at it.

“I hope its ok”

“It’s perfect” He assured you, walking around the car to throw his arm over your shoulders, leading you to the ticket booth.

Despite protests that it was your date he still paid for the tickets, walking lazily around the carnival with his hand in yours, trying to decide what to do first when one of the workers jumped from his booth into your path.

“hey what do you say buddy win your lady a prize?” He gestured up at the giant stuffed teddy bears, a signature untrustworthy smirk playing on his face as he locked eyes with Jensen.

“That’s the whole reason you brought me here wasn’t it” He laughed looking down at you “You wanted a giant bear”

“well I’m not saying I’d be opposed to one” He chuckled at you, handing the man five dollars and listening as he explained the rules, you breaking off from him to watch.

Jensen picked up one of the baseballs, taking a moment to test it’s weight in his hands before cocking his arm and throwing it just to the left of the milk bottles.

“You know the point of the game is to hit those right?”

You watched as he mimicked you under his breath, picking up the next ball and letting it sail just to the right of the bottles.

“I’m just saying at this rate you’ll be broke before I get the bear”

He locked eyes with you, sending you a glare and picking up the ball before winking, quickly cocking his arm and knocking over all three bottles in one throw.

“We have a winner!” The man shouted, climbing up on the counter and pulling down one of the bears, lowering it into your arms

“And you doubted me” Jensen teased, walking back over to you with a smile on his face.

You opened your mouth to respond but was cut off by someone else calling his name. This was something that by this point you were used to, random people recognizing him in restaurants and such asking for an autograph. But you watched as this guy pulled out a notepad and asked if he could ask Jensen some questions.

Immediately Jensen stepped in front of you, blocking you from view.

“Look kid I know you’re just trying to do your job but I’m just here to have fun no questions please”

The reporter didn’t back off, ignoring him completely, continuing to barrage him with questions. Jensen tired to talk him down, tried to get him to leave, but nothing worked, so he finally just grabbed your hand and dragged you away from the guy, keeping his body between you and the reporter.

You didn’t question him just let him drag you away, watching the way his jaw set as he heard the guy calling after him but luckily didn’t follow you two.

“Jensen are you ok?” You asked him once you had finally gotten far enough away, pausing behind some random tent.

He squeezed your hand, sending you a soft but obviously painted on smile. “I’m fine, I’m just really sorry about that guy?”

“It’s not your fault” You shrugged, rubbing a thumb across his hand, trying to get him to calm down “and I’m fine it was just one guy he didn’t even care about me”

“It is my fault” he insisted with a sigh “it’s my fault he came up to me”

“It’s your fault that you were you?” You chuckled shaking your head at him “that’s ridiculous, it’s not your fault, and no harm was done, don’t even worry about it”

He looked at you, the corners of his mouth tipped up finally, “what did I do to deserve you?”

“Beats me” You chuckled earning yourself an eyeroll “but how bout I run this bear to the car, you buy me an elephant ear, and we’ll go on the Farris wheel in a bit”

“I’d like that” He nodded.

You grinned back at him, nodding back briefly before heading back to the car, Jensen heading over to one of the food trucks.

It took some effort but the bear eventually did fit in the back seat, you just couldn’t see out of the back window which sounded like a problem for the drive home not now.

Your phone beeped with a message from Jensen letting you know where to meet him. You started to make your way back into the carnival when you paused noticing the unusually long line to get into the park, each one of them wearing large cameras around their necks, reporters. That guy must have tipped them off and now they were all here for Jensen, shit.

You ran back through the grounds, trying to make sure you didn’t tip anyone off that you were heading where they needed to, when you finally spotted Jensen sitting at one of the picnic tables, a giant elephant ear on a plate in front of him, a grin appearing on his face as soon as he spotted you.

You ran up and grabbed his hand, trying to pull him to his feet “we need to go”

“What’s wrong” He furrowed his brow, slowly getting up but not moving from his seat.

“The reporter must have tipped off some of his buddies, there’s a whole bunch trying to get into the park right now” You rambled off quickly, glancing nervously around you.

Jensen immediately started to do the same, accidently making eye contact with more than a few in the process. Several of them started to sprint in your direction, calling his name, camera bulbs flashing harshly in the process. “shit” He swore under his breath and pulled you off in the other direction.

You tried to keep up with him, your much shorter legs struggling to do so, when he finally yanked you into a random tent, pulling the flaps closed and pulling you into a corner, his eyes telling you to be quiet just in case.

The two of you sat in the tent for a bit, perfectly silent, listening as footsteps passed in front of the tent and just as quickly faded.

You waited until it was silent for quite some time before Jensen smiled down at you, sending you a small wink to say you were in the clear.

“fuck Jens I’m so sorry”

His face immediately fell, his eyebrows drawing up “what are you sorry for”

“This date!” You exclaimed “it’s been an absolute mess”

“and that’s not your fault” He pressed

“it’s the first night its here I should have known there would be someone here to cover it”

He shook his head “there is no way that any of this is your fault”

“it is! I should have thought this through. I should have taken more precautions, I shouldn’t have brought you here in the first place” Words flowed from your mouth quickly as you started to spiral, Jensen trying desperately to get you to stop before he finally took matter into his own hands. He grabbed your face with two hands, not giving you a second to process what was happening before pressing his lips against yours.

You froze on the spot, total shock taking over you as you just stood there dumbly with wide eyes until he pulled back from you.

“this is not your fault” He assured you with a small chuckle, watching your cheeks heat up as you just stared at him with big eyes.

“you..you kissed me” You stuttered out, unable to think about anything else, your hands rising up to your lips, brushing over them.

“I did” He replied slowly “I’m sorry I should have asked if that was ok”

“no no” You shook your head, finally bringing your gaze up to meet his own “it’s not that it’s just…that was my first”

He drew his brows again “your first kiss?”

You just nodded sheepishly.

“oh shit” He mumbled, running a hand through his hair “If I had known that I would have made it much more romantic. Not just in a random tent in a carnival”

“No it was perfect” You giggled, biting your lip softly.

“I guess I’ll just have to make it up to you later” He chuckled “but first we should probably get out of here” He started shrugging off his coat, handing it to you along with his baseball cap “here put these on”

“but it’s something you get used to” You said with a small smile, looking down at the hands in your lap “and they did get me my first kiss so I guess it’s not all bad”

Jensen laughed again from his chair but didn’t say anything, giving you the floor, acknowledging that at this point you could handle yourself.

“Just in general what is dating Jensen like?”

“It’s a roller coaster” You answered honestly with a small laugh in your voice, giving his hand a small squeeze. “it can have its lows” the paparazzi, media attention, being hounded whenever you went outside, the mean comments, life wasn’t exactly a cakewalk with him “and it definitely has it’s highs”

Half an hour passed without you realizing it, just sitting on your bed, scrolling through comments, not even bothering to wipe the tears as they rolled down your face.

The front door sounded as someone walked through it, presumably Jensen back from work, and you jumped into action, wiping away at your cheeks, tossing your phone across the room with little care as to where it landed, hell better if it broke least then you wouldn’t be tempted to check Instagram again.

He came into the bedroom, a grin on his face and a bouquet of roses in his hands, held proudly in front of him.

“Jensen what’s all this for” You put on your best happy face, grabbing the roses and immediately trying to hide your face behind them.

“I was just thinking about you on the way home and all of a sudden I was in front of a flower shop” He chuckled, reaching out to brush some hair from your face, his brows immediately drawing in concern “Babe what’s wrong”

You never could hide anything from him, damn that acting career, nevertheless you tried “nothing Jens”

“As much as I like the idea of you being so overcome with emotion at the fact that your boyfriend spontaneously brought you flowers home I don’t think that’s what happened” He said was a small chuckle, trying to lighten the mood.

And despite everything you did smile a bit, finally looking up to meet his gaze, finally letting him see the full extent of your puffy red eyes.

“I got a post notification from you a few minutes ago…did you-“ He didn’t even need to finish the sentence, understanding what was going on immediately, having been in this exact situation not too long ago.

You didn’t say anything, setting the roses down on the bed and hugging him tightly, trying to pull yourself as far into him as you could, letting him anchor you, letting him protect you.

“Why do they hate me” You had said it so softly you were unsure if he heard you, unsure if you wanted him to hear you.

“They don’t hate you Y/N” Jensen put his harms around your shoulders, squeezing you tightly into him, resting his chin on top of your head.

“They do” You pressed “the awful things they say to me”

“They’re assholes” He shook his head “they don’t even know you”

“but they’re not wrong” You regretted the words as soon as you said them, you did not need to push your insecurities onto him he didn’t need your burden to carry.

“What?” He pulled back from you and you practically whimpered at the loss of contact, reluctantly looking up at him through your lashes, wishing you could take back the words.

“Nothing just please hold me”

“What do you mean they’re not wrong Y/N” He wasn’t letting this one go.

“You’re a big movie star Jensen” You couldn’t meet his eye contact, your eyes falling to the floor “your handsome and successful and famous and I’m…I’m just me…I’m nothing”

“You are not nothing” The words came out of his mouth quickly, so forceful it left a small part of you worried he was angry “You are so far out of my league its not even funny”

You pushed the corners of your mouth up, moving in to hug him again “thanks Jensen”

“I mean it” He hugged you back “they don’t know you, I’m the one who gets to see this amazing, sweet, caring, funny, intelligent person everyday. So I’m definitely the one you should trust in this situation”

You couldn’t help but laugh into his chest, letting a bit of the weight off your shoulders. “I trust you”

“Good” You could hear the smile in his voice “cause I’m always right”

You finally let a louder laugh escape your lips, pulling back from him but always keeping him at arms length “we’ll I don’t know about that”

He feigned hurt, pulling an arm up to his chest and scoffing “How dare you”

“mhm” you hummed with a smirk, going up onto your toes and pecking his lips, his offended attitude melting away immediately “I love you”

“I love you too”

There was silence for a moment, just enjoying the feeling of Jensen against you, before he broke it again “come take a shower with me”

You shook your head against his chest, pulling back again “I’m not really in the mood Jens”

“not in that way you perv” He joked with a soft chuckle, making a point to softly flick your nose “just help calm you down”

“I’m fine” You tried to shake it off, wanting to do nothing more than collapse in the bed and forget about this afternoon.

“We both know that’s not true” He sighed, taking your hand, softly pulling you to the bathroom.

You groaned but obliged, following him into the bathroom. He grinned at your compliance, turning on the water and stripping, making a show of keeping his boxers on before getting in the shower.

You eyed his suspiciously, not entirely sure what you had gotten yourself into but did the same, following behind him, only to be met with a bone crushing hug.

Immediately you took note of the feeling of his skin against yours, his arms, his chest, his stomach, his thighs. Every part of him was open to your touch, his fingers delicately tracing figures into your back as he hugged you. The water was nice and hot, making the entire room steam, his scent was everywhere around you, his skin was soft and wet to the touch. And before you knew it you were completely melting into him just enjoying the feeling of him.

“but the highs always outweigh the lows” you finished with a soft smile, looking back up at Jensen who wore a similar expression on his face.

“Jensen what do you think?”

He laughed softly, not taking an eye off of you for a second “This relationship is unlike anything I’ve ever been in before” He chuckled softly “but I can honestly say I’ve never loved anyone like I love you”

You. He said you. Not her not Y/N he said you. He wasn’t talking to the crowd or even for their benefit, he was talking to you.

“I love you too” You didn’t bother to lift the microphone to your lips when you said it. This was your moment, this was yours and Jensen’s moment.

“anyways” Jared’s voice broke through everything, drawing you back once again, your eyes flicking away from Jensen’s quickly as if you had been caught doing something you weren’t supposed to have been. “anymore questions before we let Y/N out of here?”

The room was silent and you took that as your que to leave, getting ready to push yourself up from the chair when a voice sounded from the crowd.

“How big is he?”

You bit your lip and grinned up at him, his face dropping slightly. You could hear Jared rearrange himself in his chair and looked over to see him leaning heavily over the armrest towards you, looking as interested in your answer as possible.

“Do you want like a metaphor or inches. Cause in terms of inches he’s about-“

Jensen grabbed your mic from your hand immediately “alright that’s enough of that”

You laughed at him, sending him a wink as he tried to keep a straight face but failed miserably.

The crowd erupted in boo’s making him shake his head “not my fault” he defended “they’re giving me the signal it’s time to wrap it up, no more questions, we’re done”

You and Jared laughed at him as he rambled, sharing a look before standing. With a quick kiss on the cheek you left the stage, leaving them to do whatever they needed to in order to wrap things up, feeling as though you were coming down from a high.

Never had you thought that would have gone that well.

[louadorable126]

Demons(you).me Chapter 5 - Burgers and Meetings

>>Click here to read over on Ao3!<<

Art by Aya/ITOUYAS! <3

—————————————————————————

Summary:

In a city controlled by the generally altered race of Demons, Lady's life as a mercenary on the lower floor was never easy. Especially when she ran into Dante. A demon on the hunt for his missing brother.

—————————————————————————

Important information!

Fandom: Devil May Cry

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence

Realtionships: Dante x Lady, Vergil x Lady

Characters: Lady (Devil May Cry), Dante (Devil May Cry), Vergil (Devil May Cry) Morrison (Devil May Cry), Nell Goldstien (Devil May Cry) Eva (Devil May Cry), Sprada (He’s mentioned bless him), Mundus (Also Mentioned)

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Cyberpunk, Genetic Engineering, Sci-fi Fantasy, Strip Clubs and Strippers, Dystopia, Seizures, Flirting, Eva and Sprada are alive! :D, Human Experimentation, Cults.

—————————————————————————

Chapter 5

When Vergil said he wanted to take a break, Lady certainly hadn’t expected…this.

After walking a few blocks away from the cult’s abandoned lab, the group had stumbled across a fast food truck cosily tucked away beneath a monorail bridge; the occasional train passing overhead and zooming passed in a matter of seconds. Needless to say, Dante had been quick to drag them over to such a ramshackle establishment, the moment his nose caught whiff the sizzling of meat on its grill.

Before Lady knew it, she found herself left on her own in the middle of the road. Vergil had isolated himself away from his twin’s embarrassing display, as he mindlessly drooling over the truck's menu while resting his chin against the van’s rusted counter, by going over to one of the supporting pillars of the bridge and leaning back against it. Of course, he didn’t exactly look like he was in the mood for company; looking lost in thought as he gazed up at the towering layers cascading up to the metal sky above him. Vergil always seemed to have a way to project an aura of intense disinterest when he didn’t want to be spoken too. So not really knowing what to do with herself, Lady walked over to the fast food truck.

“Hey kid, you gonna get anything or not?” The gruff, bearded, chef behind the counter asked in a polite tone. Wiping down his newly washed, worn tongs with a cloth.

“Uhhh give me a moment. It's hard to decide-“

“Not for me! Can I please have a hot dog?” Lady chimed in, as she approached. Standing beside the red demon.

Startled, Dante quickly pushed himself away from the counter and looked over at her in surprise.

“What? Thought you were the only one that was hungry?” Lady taunted with a sly smirk.

“No! I- uh…” The demon frantically stumbled for his words, caught completely off guard by her bluntness. All of a sudden, he turned in the direction of the chef and threw up two fingers. “I’ll have two of the Mega burgers please!”

“Sure. That’ll be 7.50.” The older man informed them. Swapping his hand so a holographic payment screen appeared in front of the pair.

Lady swiftly pulled her phone out of her skirt pocket and tapped it against the screen. A moment later a bright green “Payment Received” sign appeared and the hologram vanished into thin air. With a pleased nod, the chef quickly got to work putting two meat patties onto his grill, followed by frying the spongy, inner section of the buns.

“Two burgers, huh?” Lady asked curiously. Raising a playful eyebrow, as she crossed her arms.

“Well, one’s for Verge.” Dante explained, taking a glance over his shoulder at his stoic twin. Resting the back of his head against the supporting pillar with his eyes shut, seemingly in some sort of ‘meditation’. “The guy will never admit he’s hungry. But Eva would totally kill me if she thought he hadn’t been fed!"

“Are you sure he’s going to like it?” Lady questioned in an unsure tone. Leaning in closer to Dante, and keeping her voice low, and away from the prying ears of the nearby chef. “Your brother doesn’t seem like a guy whose taste palate would fit...this kind of place.”

“Nah! I’m sure he’ll be fine with it!” Dante reassured, waving his hand dismissively at the idea.

Lady still didn’t 100% agree with Dante’s assumption; her gut instinct screaming at her that this was a terrible idea. But who was she to argue when she’d only known his brother for around a day or so? Dante had known him his whole life. “If you say so then."

The two quickly fell into silence after that. The space left empty by their words was quickly filled by the satisfying sound of sizzling and spitting from the grill, and the low tunes of a rock song escaping out of the nearby radio. Their meals were coming close to being done, as the chef applied two slices of cheese over the meat and went to go and stuff the hot dog into a bun.

“Hey Lady…” Dante suddenly started to ask. His voice uncharacteristically soft in tone. Something that didn’t slip Lady’s notice, as she looked up at the boyish face hidden beneath that crimson hood of his. “What do you plan to do after me and Vergil leave?”

Well that certainly caught her off guard! At first, it seemed like such a strange thing for him to be asking. Part of her thought that they’d be together for a longer time yet. That even bringing up the idea that they would disband their small party seemed out of place at this moment. But, the more she thought about it, she started to realise where Dante was going with this.

Dante had found his brother, and by all means had completed the original mission he had set out for himself down here. It was only through Vergil’s intervention and insistence that they protect the true nature of their heritage that the boys were still here with her. Nothing more nothing less. And…well they were coming close to making that a reality.

Granted, they had about as much a clue as her when it came to predicting where or whether the next ‘leak’ would appear. It could just be that they would have to deal with this cultist and then everything would be fine. No more work would have to be done and the brother’s could return to their newly discovered mother for a heart to heart. That they would leave her, and she’d return to a mundane life without the thrill or adventure she had experienced over the last few days.

And if Lady had to be honest…she didn’t really want to go back to that.

A swell of anxiety started to curl in her stomach. She opened her mouth to speak, her breath heavy with conflicted emotion.

“Well…I’d probably just go back to working as a mercenary under Morrison. Don’t think much else would change really.” She answered honestly, with a small shrug.

Yet, a part of her couldn’t just leave it at that. A nagging sensation reminded her that things would change once he and his brother finally left. Maybe it was because of an overwhelming sense of sentimentality she’d grown to feel towards the demon. But Lady didn’t want him to think she wouldn’t care for his departure when it finally came. That she wasn’t thankful for what he’d done for her.

She leaned back against the trucks metal counter, letting out a small sigh, as she looked out into the distinct wistfully “But, you know....I think I’d miss your dumb ass. Things will be much less fun around here without you!”

“Who are you calling a dumb ass?” Dante whined in a jovial voice. He obviously wasn’t particularly offended by her slight jab, if that sly smile playing on his lips anything to go by. Lightheartedly poking her shoulder.

Lady couldn’t help but smile too, as she raised her hands in defence. “What? I’m just speaking the truth-“

“Alright you lovebirds! Meal's ready!” A deep voice from behind interrupted. At the sound, the pair quickly turned around. Finding the bearded chef standing directly behind them with a brown paper bag seeped with grease in one hand, and a cardboard container with a hotdog sticking out of it in the other.

Oh god! Not this again! Lady cursed in the back of her mind. Unable to save herself from the rush of heat flooding her cheeks with red, as she gingerly took the items off the man and quickly handed the paper bag over to Dante by shoving it at his chest. Head tilted down shamefully throughout. I’m never going to hear the end of this! Why does everything think just because we’re around the same age he’s my boyfriend! It's so infuriating-

“Thank you” She mumbled in a small voice to the chef. Cutting off her inner turmoil before it could rise to the surface. Keeping her cool as she ever so calmly grabbed Dante’s wrist and forcefully dragging him away from as fast as she could physically move. Which wasn’t that fast given that Dante was already briskly walking ahead of her, when they reached Vergil. Earning her a curious look from the blue demon, as he watched his twin seemingly lead her along. Dammit! She could only imagine what he was thinking! Stupid demons and their speed!

Without a second's hesitation, she quickly let go of Dante’s wrist. Letting Dante’s arm drop down limply, as she threw her hand up to her face and rubbed it tiredly. Trying to compose herself before all logical thought left her and she did something she’d regret. Well, if she hadn’t already. All Lady wanted to do was pray the ground would open up and swallow her whole right now!

Dante however, was completely obvious to this. Freed from her grasp, he swiftly wandered over to his nearby twin and pulled out a neatly wrapped burger, in a cream coloured napkin, out of the paper bag and presenting it to him proudly. "Bon Appetit, bro!”

Vergil looked down at the item in bemusement. As though he had not been expecting his brother to present him such a ‘gift’. Hesitantly, he reached out and gently took it from his brother’s hands. “You didn’t need to get me this, Dante. I’m not particularly famished right now.”

“Yeah yeah! Keep saying that to yourself!” Dante said disbelievingly, waving his brother off.

He pulled his burger out of the paper bag and quickly scrunched it up into a tight ball. Looking around for a bin, the red demon was lucky enough to spot one only a couple of meters away from the group. Never being one to pass up a challenge, Dante attempted to throw the scrunched up paper bag into bin’s open mouth at a startling speed. Sending it hurtling through the air and almost barely missing its target by a small margin, if not for the light breeze that had swept in to save the day. At the sound of the small metallic clank, made by the ball as it hit the inside of the steel container, Dante fist pumped in victory as he spun back around to face Vergil. Who was shaking his head in disapproval of his little brother’s antics.

“Come on! You can’t say that wasn’t cool!” Dante exclaimed passionately. Pointing at his grumpy brother’s person with a burger in hand.

“I see nothing ‘cool’ about littering, little brother.” Vergil said coldly. Not taking his eyes off his brother, as he unwrapped his meal with one hand. “If you had missed that shot, you would have to be the one to clear it up. Not me."

“But I didn’t miss, did I?” Dante pointed out, smugly. Vergil didn’t react to his retort however. His face remained cold and impassive, barely showing a hint of emotion as he glared at his twin. An invisible tension began to mount between the two of them. Rising up until it reached its breaking point, when Dante admitted defeat with a roll of his eyes. “Alright fine! By the way, Lady's the one who bought this meal for us. So might wanna thank her a little!”

“Wha-“ Lady blurted out at the mention of her name. Not expecting to be brought back into the conversation so abruptly. Dropping her hand and letting her vision focus, when she came to her senses, she found Vergil staring at her with an awkward smile. One that looked rather forced, uncomfortable, and….ok somewhat terrifying if she had to be honest!

“Thank you…..for this.” He said in a stilted voice. Seemingly trying his best to remain polite while obviously not caring much for what he was thanking her for, like a child who got a knock off toy for Christmas.

“Oh! Uh…no worries!” Lady said awkwardly. Trying her best not to wither under that unsettling smile of his. She glanced down at the hotdog in her hand and quickly took a small bite out of it. Gosh, it had been ages since she had one! She’d almost forgotten how good they were!

Wiping away a few small crumbs from her mouth with the back of her hand, she looked back up at the two dumbfounded brother’s awkwardly staring at her while she ate. “You guys going to start eating or not? This stuff’s going to get cold soon!” She exclaimed in a muffled voice, mouth filled with food.

Without another word, Dante quickly tore open the napkin covering his burger and began to dig into it. He let out a moan of pleasure as he ate, seemingly enjoying every bite with that blissful expression on his face. It always fascinated Lady how Dante could be so pleased by anything he ate. She honestly wouldn’t have taken him as a foodie to be honest. Expecting him to be a rebellious picky eater who could only enjoy fast food and would sustain himself on nothing else.

Ironically enough, however, that title seemingly went to his brother. Vergil had yet to touch his burger in the slightest. Instead, he had pulled back the burger's wrapping and bun ever so slightly, and awkwardly poked its inner contents with his finger and gave it a rigorous examination before it went anywhere near his mouth. It was obviously not a pleasant conclusion however, as a growing look of vile disgust formed on his fair features. His face twisting and distorting as though he was on the verge of throwing up, as he quickly pulled back his finger and hastily whipped it down with his napkin.

“Is this thing made out of rodent?” Vergil commented maybe a bit too loudly. Causing the food trucks chef peaked his head up in interest a few meters away.

“Uhhh...might wanna keep it down a little, Vergil!” Lady said in a hushed voice, chewing on her food. Catching sight of the man’s movements out of the corner of her eye. Worrying that the chef might kick them out of the area, the mercenary quickly spun back around to check on the older man. Thankfully, Lady was relieved to find, however, that the bearded chef sat back down in his truck, and was nodding his head to the beat of the radio.

“I’m not eating this.” The blue demon asserted coldly. He took a step forward. Moving to walk past his brother, as he headed towards the bin.

All of a sudden, he was stopped by a strong arm appearing in front of him and reaching out across his chest, blocking his way.

“Hold it right there, princess!” Dante said in a muffled voice. Stopping for a moment taking a bite out of his own burger. “Look, it's not that bad! In fact I think these burgers are pretty tasty! So I’m not sure what you're being a crybaby about bro! But, I’m not gonna let your waste a perfectly good meal-“  Dante reached out to his brother with open hand. “Hand it over if you don’t want it.”

Vergil slapped away his brother’s hand with a growl. “I’m not a crybaby, Dante! I just have standards for what I put into my body!” He paused for a moment, taking a deep, shaky breath. Looking down at the burger in his hand with a hard, determined glare, as though he was facing down a fearsome foe in combat. "This meal is mine, and mine alone. Not yours, little brother! If you wish for me to prove to you that I can eat it. Then I will! "

Finishing his dramatic monologue, and without a second's hesitation, Vergil bought the burger up to his mouth and slammed his teeth into it in one mighty, powerful bite. Sending a spray of sickly-sweet, bright red ketchup sauce flying out of the other end of the burger and into Dante’s face. Covering him with sauce like a tasty face paint.

“Pffffffff!” Lady burst out into roaring laughter at the comical sight. To which she was soon joined by Dante, seemingly completely uncaring for the ketchup splattered across his face as he chuckled. Ironic, as Vergil's regal face quickly turned the same bright red shade as his tomato covered brother’s, at their mocking. Deathly embarrassed, Vergil quickly turned away from the pair of them and stormed over to the nearby bin and slammed his burger inside.

As he walked back from the bin, Lady couldn’t help but feel bad for the blue demon. He was obviously trying to play off that he didn’t care about what had just transpired. His face marred with his usual stoic frigidity, icy eyes hard and lips pressed together in a firm line, actively schooling his features so that he looked emotionless. Yet, as the bright red blush slowly left his cheeks, he couldn’t hide the light, pink dusting covering his sharp cheekbones. It was both hilarious and endearing to see. Hell, Lady might even have gone as far as to say it was….cute.

Vergil walked back over to the pillar and picked his sword up off the ground, right next to the black laptop haphazardly leaning against the concrete structure. Held it close to his chest protectively, in his crossed arms, as he stubbornly gazed up at a futuristic, bullet-like train rumbling past overhead. Although, not loud enough to cover up the sound of a stomach growling in annoyance. Given that she and Dante had certainly eaten their fair share, by process of elimination it seemed Vergil was hungrier than he let on.

Taking pity on the young man, Lady awkwardly split off the untouched end of her hotdog, and strolled over to him. She coughed lightly to gain his attention, and when his fearsome gaze fell on her, she swiftly presented her peace offering with a soft smile. “Here, take half of mine.”

Vergil raised a curious, pale eyebrow at her offer from beneath his hood. Still looking uncomfortable at the idea of eating anything from the food truck. The brunette suspected that it was going to take a bit more convincing to get him to concede to her demands.

“I-uh...saw a jar of branded hotdog sausages in the van. So there shouldn’t be anything weird in it if you're worrying about that.“ She was reassured. Rubbing the back of her slim neck with her free hand.

At the news of the hotdog's authenticity, Vergil hesitantly took the uneaten half from Lady’s hand. A small smirk creeping onto his pinkish lips as he gazed down at the meal in his grasp. “Thank you, Lady.” He said in a soft voice. There was a hint of…something behind that tone, however. Something indecipherable to the mercenary.

She didn’t have time to question it too much though, as Dante walked over to the pair of them rubbing down his boyish face with the torn remains of his napkin. It seemed he’d done a successful job of clearing away much of the ketchup covering his face, however the odd spots still remained around his jawline and chin. Apparently only the top half of his face really counted when it came to cleaning himself.

“Hey, you doing alright bro?” Dante asked in a concerned voice, as he casually leaned back against the concrete pillar beside the blue demon. “Don’t worry too much about what happened. There’s a reason I wear red!”

“I thought it was because Eva got annoyed every time you came back from a mission covered in drenched in blood, dirt and god knows what else attaches itself to you.” Vergil pointed out, without missing a beat. Looking over at his twin with a fond, yet taunting gaze. Knocking Dante off guard for a brief second, before he quickly recovered.

“Heh…well I suppose that’s true! But this just proves it has other uses!” Dante lightly pat his twin on the shoulder affectionately. “Anyway, enjoy your meal bro! Let’s hope no special sauce leaks out of the other end this time!”

Dante winked at his brother with a cheeky grin as he finished talking. At first Vergil ignored him, moving to bite into his hotdog regardless. It was only after a second of processing what his twin had said, the cogs in his brain clicking into motion, that the young man realised what he was implying. His pale face quickly flushing with bright red once again. His sharp teeth just stopped shy from the hotdog's delicate bun, before slamming his mouth shut. Gritting his teeth together so tightly that his jaw began to shake.

The mercenary started to step backwards, already anticipating the ticking time bomb about to go off before her, as Vergil moved to click open Yamato’s blade with his free hand. A murderous glint in his blue eyes as he slowly tilted his head up and glared at his unassuming twin - still resting his hand on the blue demon’s shoulder. Toothy grin still etched into his features like he had been turned to stone.

I should probably get myself a soda! Lady thought to herself wisely. Breaking off in a sprint towards the food truck, the moment a flash of bright blue light sparked off behind her, out of the corner of her eye.

“DANTEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!”

—————————————————————————

Click here to read more over on Ao3! :3

[bee-kathony]

The Oath | Ch. 19 “Round Two”

a/n: thank you all for reading, liking and commenting! I appreciate it so so much. big thanks to @lcbeauchampoftarth for being my beta on this and making it 1000x better! <3

Arc I | Ch. 16 | Ch. 17 | Ch. 18

December 9th, 2019

Madeline sat comfortably on Geillis’s lap as they sat down to lunch the next day. It was nice to get out of the house and take her mind off of everything that had been going on lately.

“Ye have the chubbiest wee cheeks that I e’er saw.” Geillis lightly pinched Madeline’s cheeks, making her giggle. “Ye might have the cutest baby in the world, Claire.”

“I’ll agree to that,” Claire smiled. “She is rather adorable.”

“With yer genes and that handsome Scot as her father, ye were bound to have an adorable bairn,” Geillis grinned and then bounced Madeline on her knee.

“Do you think—“ Claire started, but shook her head.

“What? Do I think that Jamie isna her father after all?” Geillis could read her so easily — well, anyone could, according to Jamie.

“Yes. I know I said I didn’t want to talk about it, but what do you think? Is it possible?”

“Of course it’s possible, Claire. But when I look at this beautiful wee lass of yers with her auburn hair and fair skin… well, she reminds me of Jamie. And ye of course, but I know this has to be a mistake.”

Just then the waitress brought over their food, setting it down in front of them.

“Thank you,” Claire said and immediately grabbed her fork and twirled a string of pasta around it. “You’re probably right. Always are,” she smirked. “I’m just going crazy waiting! The good thing is that Jamie will take another paternity test today and we should have the results by the end of the week. Then we can figure out what to do next.”

“Ye two have a good plan, and a good lawyer behind ye. Don’t worry, Claire. It’ll all work out, ye’ll see,” Geillis smiled.

They both ate their meals, talking of work and random things other than the biggest issue in Claire’s life. Claire was so grateful that she had Geillis in her life. Without her, she might not have ever met Jamie — if she hadn’t been so persistent in making her come with her to the whisky opening.

“You know…” Claire took a sip of water. “I never really thanked you properly for dragging me out to Lallybroch for the whisky launch.”

“I don’t believe ye did,” Geillis smirked, still holding Madeline in her lap. “But I take yer thanks and say yer welcome, lass!”

Claire laughed, wrapping both her arms around herself. “I just can’t imagine my life without Madeline… without Jamie. You’ve helped me so much, Geillis. You were there for me when I needed somewhere to go and you took me in.”

“That’s what friends do,” Geillis responded with a smile and took her hand over the table, squeezing it lightly. “And now ye owe me a huge favor for basically makin’ yer life amazing…”

“Hmmm? I suppose I do and I know you always cash in on your favors,” Claire laughed.

“Can I break up my huge favor into small ones?”

“I guess,” Claire shrugged. “What did you have in mind?”

Madeline started squirming, reaching for Geillis’ chest, hungry for her own lunch. “Oh, no lass. Nothin’ is comin’ out of these, I’m afraid.”

“Hand the little miss over,” Claire smiled and took Mads from Geillis, then adjusted her on her lap so that she could feed her. Thankfully, she didn’t get any strange looks from anyone in the restaurant… besides, it was just a breast.

“Ye ken that sexy red dress ye have? The one that’s low cut in the front and hugs yer curves in all the right places?”

That exact dress was hanging up in Claire’s closet right now with the price tag still on it. A dress she had purchased on a whim while out shopping with Geillis months ago and hadn’t found a chance to wear.

“Yes, the same dress I haven’t even worn,” she smirked. “What about it?”

“I was just wonderin’ if I could perhaps borrow it… for a date?” Geillis smiled over her glass, her brows raised.

“A date?!” Claire’s mouth dropped. Geillis wasn’t usually the type who went out on dates, she was more the one-night kind of girl. Maybe that’s where Claire got her influence from…

“Yes,” her friend blushed, a deep crimson creeping up her fair cheeks. “And… well, tis with a lass. Her name is Lily and she works in the NICU.”

“Oh, this is different,” Claire nodded. “Is she the one with the short blonde hair? The one that I always see trying to get your attention?”

Her friend blushed more, which was very unlike Geillis. She was usually so confident and carefree, not getting caught up with dating and especially not with a co-worker. “The very one. And caught my attention she did. Ye ken that I lean towards both men and women, but never actually gone on a date with a woman before. I’m really nervous.”

“You? Nervous?” Claire tsked. “She’ll love you, Geillis. You’re an absolute catch and a half. And yes, of course you can borrow my red dress. Just make sure it doesn’t get wrinkled when it ends up on the floor!”

Geillis gasped and lightly hit Claire on the arm. “I told myself I wouldna sleep wi’ her on the first date!”

“That, I will have to see to believe,” Claire laughed. Madeline finished up her lunch and Claire pulled her shirt down and started to burp her over her shoulder. “What time is it?”

Pulling out her phone, the Scot checked the time. “Nearly 1:00. When’s yer appointment?”

“3:15,” Claire replied. “But I should probably head back home now and put her down for a nap. The DNA Centre isn’t far from our house.”

“Aye, do that. I should probably get back to work.” Geillis stood up from the table. “Yer so lucky yer still partially on maternity leave. I suppose I’ll have to get myself a baby!”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” Claire laughed and stood from the table, preparing to make the journey home with a sleeping baby.

Geillis hugged her goodbye and they parted ways.

“Do you like your Auntie Geillis?” Claire asked Mads as she buckled the car seat in. “She’s a bit wild, but she loves you.”

++++++

Claire had been so tired yesterday afternoon, that as soon as she came back with Madeline and fed her, she’d fallen asleep. And then she woke to find Jamie and ended the night in bed with him. Therefore, she had completely forgotten about searching the name Mary Hawkins.

She needed to meet Jamie at the DNA Centre with Mads in two hours, which gave her just enough time to search Mary’s name while Madeline took a nap. The name was familiar to her and she was positive she’d first heard it from Frank, but she couldn’t quite remember why.

Sitting down at her desk in their study, Claire typed in the name, but the only results that came up were articles about the opening of Hawkins Laboratory four years ago. Thank God for social media. Frank didn’t have any kind of social media accounts, and he had constantly reminded Claire that too much time on her phone would fry her brain.

In a matter of seconds, Claire found who she was looking for.

Mary.Hawkins: 21 “C’est la vie”

Scrolling past pictures of food and sunsets, Claire sat stunned when she found something that chilled her to the bone. It was a picture from three years ago at Christmas. In the picture, Mary sat beside the tree, and sitting beside her was Frank.

When she clicked on the picture to see who else was tagged, another name popped up. A young man that looked an awful lot like Frank. His username was Randall_Alexander, Frank’s youngest brother.

Three years ago, Claire had been scheduled to work the Christmas shift and couldn’t get out of it. She told Frank to go home to his family and that she would be busy, probably not even realizing it was Christmas.

Claire remembered the name Mary Hawkins. Frank had told her that his brother had started dating a girl named Mary and had brought her to meet everyone. Things got busy for both of them and Claire had actually never met Alex Randall. And therefore, she had never met Alex’s girlfriend, Mary. The same Mary Hawkins that works at Hawkins Laboratory.

“That bastard,” Claire muttered, and took a screenshot of the photo to show Jamie later. She knew something wasn’t right and she would bet her life on the fact that Frank had asked a favor from this Mary Hawkins.

To confirm her suspicions, Claire went back to the Hawkins Laboratory website in search for a photo of Mary. There on the “About” section was a group photo of all the staff. Mary was petite and had a mousy face, but Claire had no doubt that it was the same young girl.

What she wanted to do was contact her, to reach out to her and find out the truth, but Claire knew that Mary wouldn’t tell her anything — especially not if Frank had bribed her to lie. It was frustrating, to know that this was all a lie; but without any hard proof, nothing could be done.

Hard proof they could get, however, would come from the new paternity test Jamie was about to take. When those results came back to them in two days, they would know for certain their next steps. All Claire had to do now was be patient… and patience wasn’t her strongest suit right now.

Walking in to check on Madeline, Claire saw she was still asleep and figured she could manage a quick shower before meeting Jamie at the DNA Centre. As she stepped under the hot water, letting it wash away all her troubles, Claire thanked God once again that she was no longer with Frank, but with an honorable and loving man. Her Jamie.

++++++

He was waiting for them in the lobby of the DNA Centre, his fingers tapping a rhythm against his leg. Jamie met her eye and smiled, the lines of worry on his forehead disappearing.

“Sassenach.” He kissed her hello and then picked up Madeline from her pram. “How’s yer day been?”

“Oh, I have some news for you!” Claire said as she took a seat next to him, waiting for their name to be called. Jamie cradled Madeline in his arms, staring down at her beautiful face. “So remember how I told you I thought the name Hawkins sounded really familiar?”

“Aye, just two days ago…”

“Jesus H., has it just been two days?” Claire took a deep breath, running her hand over her face, feeling like she’d aged tremendously in the last week. “Well, when I called the lab yesterday, the woman I spoke to gave me the name Mary Hawkins — saying she was the one to handle our case.”

“And what did ye find out, a nighean?”

Claire placed her hand on Jamie’s arm, squeezing it a little. “I searched for Mary on Instagram and found a picture of her with Frank’s family from three years ago at Christmas.”

“What?” Jamie looked up at her, his eyes wide. “This Mary kens Frank’s family?”

“She’s dating Alexander Randall, Frank’s youngest brother who I’ve never met. At least I think they’re still dating, that’s what her latest post indicated…” Claire rambled. “So, I would bet my life that Frank used his connections at this lab with Mary to somehow change the results.”

“Taing Dhia!” Jamie smiled and then kissed Claire. “Ye ken that if we get the results back and they say I’m Mad’s father… and now with this connection to Mary, Claire,” he looked at her, determination in his eyes. “We might have enough evidence to file a claim against them. Against the lab for tampering with the results and against Frank for bribing them.”

“As much as I don’t want this to go into a long drawn-out legal battle, I think you’re right. It’s what we need to do to stop all of this. If they tampered with our results, maybe the lab has done this kind of thing before,” Claire questioned. She wanted to say more, but they were called back to a small room for the test.

“The doctor will be wi’ ye in just a minute,” said the nurse and left the three of them alone, waiting.

“They just need a swab, right?” Jamie looked down at her. “Like the last time?”

“Yeah, that’s all they should need, just some spit.” Claire stroked Madeline’s cheek.

The door opened and the doctor walked in, a short frog-faced-looking man that shook both of their hands. “Hello, are you the Frasers?”

“Aye, I’m Jamie Fraser and this is my fiancé, Claire soon to be a Fraser,” Jamie smiled. “And this is Madeline…”

“She is a beautiful child,” said the doctor with a thick French accent. “My name is Doctor Raymond, I’ll be helping you with your paternity test today.”

“Thank you so much, we appreciate you being able to work us into your schedule on such short notice,” Claire smiled. She felt instantly comfortable with Doctor Raymond, as if she’d known him for a long time.

“It is my pleasure, Madonna,” he smiled at her and then put on his latex gloves. “For accurate results we just need a swab from the bébé’s cheek as well as from the father.”

It took all of two minutes for both cheek swabs to be taken, and Claire held Madeline’s hand the whole time. Thankfully, she had also remembered to bring Madeline’s favorite stuffed bunny toy, keeping it close by her daughter the whole time. Madeline didn’t fuss when Doctor Raymond opened her mouth and stuck the swab in, only looked at him curiously.

Claire watched as Doctor Raymond labeled both samples and put them in a larger bag to be sent in for testing. “And we’ll hear back in two days? Also, I’d like to confirm it is the court-approved test that is being done?”

“Oh, yes my dear, you will have everything you need in a matter of days,” the doctor said and then took her hand. “Everything will work out just as you want it to, Madonna.”

“Thank ye, Doctor,” Jamie nodded his head and then bundled the blanket around Madeline. Doctor Raymond said goodbye and led them out of the room and around the corner where they paid for the appointment. It wasn’t cheap, as it was the second time they’d done this, but it was worth every cent.

“That doctor was a bit odd, no?” Jamie said as they walked out to their cars.

“I don’t think so,” Claire smiled. She liked the odd man, he was kind and very compassionate. “I liked him, and I think Madeline did too.”

“Well, he is French so…” Jamie smirked.

“Ha ha,” Claire laughed and then took back Madeline from Jamie. She immediately started to squirm in Claire’s arms. “What? You don’t want Mama anymore?”

“She loves her Da,” Jamie grinned. “I’ll see ye both at home for dinner.” He first kissed Madeline’s head and then Claire’s lips. “It’ll work out, Sassenach. Just as the weird doctor said it would.”

“I think it will, Jamie,” Claire smiled against his lips. “I really think it will.”

At least she hoped it would.

Chapter 20: Sick Day