#only if your response is so cryptic it's a toss-up if I understand what you mean even after achieving the ending

[strixcattus]

How on Earth do you get the new ending. Don't answer that. Rhetorical question. But I had a theory and the theory didn't pan out. Now I have a second theory but it seems rather silly as it'd not only be a rework of preexisting stuff but also invalidate an entire achievement. Which is... still there. So.

What to do... what else is there to do... I know what it says in the Gallery, so how do I achieve that...

[myafterlifeisbetterthenyours]

Welcome, Father...

"Tell us, demon scum." The male agent grabbed the light from the female agent, shoving it in his face, "Who do you work for? Satan?"

"How did you get to our world from the afterlife?"

"Why are youse killing humans?"

"When did you show up here?"

The damned agents finally stoped passing the lights about, giving him a moment to adjust to the situation.

"Okay, I'm gonna stop you right there, bitch." He snapped at the humans, "First of all, we just woke up from a very nasty shock and I'm still feeling fuckin' woozy, so I'm gonna request you fetch us some coffee before we get into this. I mean, everyone gets coffees in shitty movies with scenes like this, am I right? I want something iced, bitch." Looking over his shoulder, he asked his employee, "Mox?"

Raising his nose, Moxxie began, "I'll have a Neopolitan cappuccino, more cappu than cino, make sure it's got no more than four ounces of milk, the beans won't have the right texture otherwise, and make sure they spell my name correctly on the cup they always put "Foxy" or "Roxy", I hate that."

"If you can't handle that, I'll have a Venti traditional Misto. Please use soy milk with two blond shots Affogato and Ristretto. I'd also love three vanilla pumps at the very bottom. Then, add the coffee after, then-"

"Enough!" The male agent snapped, "We aren't getting youse coffee!"

"Wow, I was getting massive douche chills just there, Mox." He told him proudly, "Congrats!"

"If we have to, we are willing to resort to torture methods to get answers out of you nasty hell beasts!" The female agent failed to sound threatening.

"When you say "tortured", do you mean physical or psychological?" Moxxie asked in his typical know-it-all tone, "Physical seems counterproductive; we would likely tell you anything if it meant an end to the pain, and you have no way of knowing what was true." He spouted at the humans.

"Or we might like it too much." He but in, "And then you got a whole new thing to deal with."

The male agent leaned down, raising a bore "What do you mean by that?"

"Oh, you're stupid, huh? I can work with stupid. Daddy Likey Dummy!" Blitzø taunted the agent.

"Good one sir, Daddy likey-" Moxxie sputtered, squirming in his chair.

"You better stop laughin' at us." The female agent threatened.

"Yeah! You're the ones at our mercy!" The male agent yelled at him, grabbing his collar

"It's hard to resist, I'm really sorry. I mean, considering your approach thus far, you've had us tied up here for what, hours?" Mox cut in, "And you haven’t even had us confirm what exactly we are!" Moxxie mocked the agents like the nerd he was.

"What are you?" The female agent asked, a curious tone coming to the females voice.

"I'm a Virgo." Moxxie told her, smugness dripping from his voice.

Both Imps burst into laughter, the agents only getting more frustrated.

Just as the male agent was gonna snap at them, the door to the room suddenly swung open.

An unnatural amount 9f light poured into the room, blinding them all for a brief moment. Once there eyes adjust, they found a silhouette standing in the doorway.

They were dressed in black, looking up a distinct shine came from his eyes, the figure wearing glasses.

Walking into the room, the figure spoke, "The question isn't what they are? The question is why there here?" He spoke cryptically.

Stepping closer the male agent came to meet the stranger halfway, "Who da Hell ah' you and how'd you get in here?" The male agent demanded.

Raising his gaze the stranger wore a smile.

The agent noticeably reacted. Stumbling back "F-f-f-father Cain... W-what are you's doin here?" He sputtered.

This 'father' just smile at him, "My associates informed me you acquired two new specimens." He looked at him, "I've come to process them." He spoke menacingly.

Father cain looked over the agents shoulder, gazing at him and Moxxie. "Excellent job My child. I always knew my faith was well placed." The father told the agent, patting his shoulder.

The agent seemed taken aback, "Th-thank you Sir." He spoke, a lone tear sliding down his cheek.

"Father Cain?" The female agent asked, walking up to 'father' Cain. "Last I heard you were down at some beach on Spring break."

Smiling at the pair, father cain raised a finger, "Ive no time for such hedonistic pleasures. Not while the Lords work is to be done" He said happily.

"Now" He began cheerfully "I need a table if I am to do my work." He spoke firmly, raising a medium sized doctors bag, that seemed to appear from nowhere.

The male agent snapped to attention, quickly running about before rushing into the back room.

Walking forwards, Father Cain removed his glasses, staring down at him. "My, my, my, they certainly did a good job. Quite a pair of specimens you have here." He spoke to himself.

Raising a brow, Blitzø wore a little grin. "Oh yeah? You should see my junk, now thats a specimen." He spoke in his usual cocky tone.

'Father' Cain just smiled, slowly walking around to Moxxie inspecting him as well. "And unharmed, very impressive." The 'Father' told the female agent.

A moment later, the male agent returned, awkwardly dragging in a large wooden table. Dropping it down, he gave a few deep puffs, "There ya go 'Fatha', will this do?"

'Father' Cain smiled told him, gratefully telling him "That will do perfectly, thank you my child."

Walking over, the 'Father' placed his bag down before opening it and pulling out a myriad of odd and strange objects.

There was a series of shiny items and tools. Although a small wooden case caught his attention, the Imp couldn't help but think it didn't belong.

"Hey, uh, you guys seem pretty chummy and we'd hate to be a third wheel, so we'd be happy to leave you to it." He cut in smugly, hoping to get a rise from one of them.

And that he did, the male agent trying to snap at him, only to be tempered by this 'Father' Cain

Calming down, the male agent asked, "What did you mean, when you came in Sit. That it's not "What they are, it's why there here?'"

Smiling, Father Cain patted his shoulder, "I'm glad you caught that, I always knew you were sharp."

He smoke warmly, "I said that because, simply put. I know what they are. They are Imps." He said it simply.

That actually surprised him, even Moxxie reacted, releasing the slightest gasp.

Looking over the father just had a eerie smile, clearly happy with there reaction.

Both agents looked confused, "Imps?" They asked each other.

The father released a deep sigh, "Yes, Imps. Imps are the very lowest of the low in hell, as well as the lowest of the Hellbornes, or Hellspawn, I can never seem to remember which is the proper term."

Walking over, Father Cain placed a finger under his chin, raising his head to meet his gaze. "Your responsible for the death of a two hundred and sixty three humans." He told him coldly.

"Yeah, but I wanna know is why?" The female agent asked, "If they were just killing humans for shits and giggles, why not just kill wherever and whenever?" She asked.

Nodding his head, "Because..." Father Cain stood up, "They do serve a higher demon, but not Satan."

Standing up, the 'Father' walked to his bag, pulling a yellow folder out. "They've killed hundreds, and the only thing that connects them...? Death."

There was another pause, before he spoke again, "But not there deaths. Each person they've killed has had someone directly related to there lives die in the past decade."

Walking over to the Imps, the 'Father' showed them a series of pictures. Blitzø recognised them... they were targets they'd killed.

"There not killing them for a demon lord, there killing them for other human souls. I imagine with a the ability to travel to the human world, you've turned revenge into a buisness." He said simply, tossing the pictures to the side.

Crouching down, the 'Father' stared at him coldly before asking "Who's book did you use to get here, Demon?"

Blitzø stared back at him, the Imp doing his best to keep calm. But he could tell this human was clearly more dangerous than the other two idiot 'demon hunters'.

Standing up, 'Father' Cain told the other agents coldly, "Leave us. Remove any cameras. I dont want any sort of witness."

"What?" The female agent asked aghast, "We caught these 'Imps' there our score and we'll be interrogating them." She snapped at the 'Father', only for the the father to calmly stare at her.

Before he could speak, the male agent grabbed her by the wrist, dragging her out of the room he spoke hastily "P-please forgive her, Sir. She doesn't fully understand the importance of your work."

The female agent put a fight, but was quickly pulled out of the room, slamming it behind him.

Now with just the three of them, 'Father' Cain removed his glasses before placing them on the table.

Stretching his neck, he removed the white collar piece at the front of his shirt, placing it in his coat pocket.

"Now" he began coldly "shall we begin the fun?"

Turning around, Blitzø decided now was a good time to speak up. "Fun, aye? What kinda fun we talkin. Shots, blow, maybe a good old fashioned threesome?" He asked, hoping to get under this 'Father' Cain's skin.

He was surprised, however, when the 'Father' just laughed, glancing over his shoulder at him.

"Your tricks won't work on me demon. I'm used to your tricks by now." He spoke happily, grabbing a small gun like object. Placing that down, he inspected a series of bottles.

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Blitzø spoke up. "You clearly know more us then those dumbass agent dickwads did, so... what's your game?" He asked, trying to be serious.

The human stopped for a moment, looking over his shoulder, he spoke up, "I know much about you. For instance, your the other Imps boss, hence he calls you Sir." He spoke coyly, still inspecting the myriad of items he'd brought.

"I also know you've killed people on three different continants, although I wonder how many you came up to kill specifically and how many were collateral." He spoke again.

Turning around he held a small bottle, walking forwards he leaned over Blitzø "I also know you can only get to the living world if your a succubus, a demon lord, or... you have a Grimoire."

Blitzø chuckled, "What is that some kinda fish?" He asked, trying to play dumb.

The 'Father' chuckled, shaking his head, "Besides how do you know I'm not a succubus, I can hold my own in the sack." He spoke smugly.

The 'Father' stared at him, an eerie smile crossing his lips.

"You want to know how i know what you are?" He asked coldly, cold eyes sending a shiver down his spine and not in the good way.

Before he could ask what I was, the father reach forwards, ripping a hole in his pants leg. "What the fuck?!" He yelled at him, "These are my good pants!"

Not minding him, the 'Father' removed a second bottle. "This" He showed him a small blue bottle, "Is poisen to Succubus." He said simply, opening the bottle and revealing an eye dropper, dropping two little droplets on his leg.

Nothing happened, the cool liquid sliding down and observing into his pant leg. Putting the bottle away He showed the original brown bottle, "This... is for Imps." He said simply.

Opening the bottle, it revealed another eye drop, holding it over his thigh, he dropped a single drop on his leg.

This time his whole body reacted, he pulled against his bindings as he released a blood curdling screech.

It felt like someone was jamming a molten hot poker into his thigh. It went on for minutes, the Imp whining in pain. "What the fuck do you want you sick fuck?!" Blitzø yelled at him.

A small smile crossed the 'Father's' lips before he stood up and told him "I want to show you something."

Walking over to the table, he grabbed that wooden case before bringing it over to the Imps.

Crouching down besides the both of them, he told the both of them "These are my most prized possessions." He spoke warmly, running his hand across the wooden case.

"What'cha got there? Ya dildo collection?" He tried to sound smug, though the Imp was still writhing in pain.

He heard moxxie tried to laugh, but it died in his throat, the smaller Imp still terrified by his boss's earlier reaction.

Opening the case, he revealed several colourful arrow heads, each one varying in size, shape and colour.

It took a long time, the imp looking over the arrow heads before he realised, 'Those aren't arrow heads... there demon tails.'

"Fuck..." Blitzø gasped, he heard Moxxie sputter out a similar cuss, just as scared behind him.

The 'Father' on the other hand, seemed quite proud, gently trailing his fingers across the tail heads.

"These are my life's work" He spoke calmly, "I've dedicated my life to hunting demons like you." He trailed his fingers across the tails, "Most of these are from Succubus. They can come and go from my world to yours the easiest, so most of the demons we find are Succubus."

He pointed to two crimson tail tips, "But these two... these two are special."

Leaning in, he spoke gently "These two... are from Imps." The revelation seemed to bring bile into the back of Blitzøs throat.

"Jesus..." moxxie said shakily, turning his head and throwing up.

Blitzø took a deep breath, doing his best not to throw up. Looking back at the human he found him holding up a tail head.

"This one" he told him, twirling it between his fingers, "I got at a little beach city. The city getting my attention after a giant demonic fish had popped up. Sound familiar." He asked with a smirk.

"Unfortunately most of them had used there demonic charm to escaped the police before I arrived... key word being, 'most'." He told him, turning his attention back on the tail head.

"I got this one from a succubus. She hid herself as a chubby little black woman. She played dumb, just like you, and much like you she was cocky and ignorant." Placing the tail tip into the container, he said coldly, "But now..."

He left the question open, clearly trying get in there heads. The problem being... it was working.

Standing up the human didn't speak for several long moments, before he placed the case on Blitzøs lap, gently telling him "Hold this"

Blitzø's whole body froze up, a deep sickness growing in his stomach as he felt the cool wooden case on his lap.

The human walked over to the mirror Blitzø only just noticed. The human stared at it for a long moment, the silence in the room becoming palpable.

Until the silence was dashed when the 'Father' smashed his arm through the mirror, before throwing his body back smashing the male agent through the mirror and slamming him into the wall.

Looking at his slumped form, 'Father Cain turned back to the now broken mirror, finding the terrified female agent standing there.

Releasing a deep sigh, the 'father' began climbing in through the now broken double sided mirror.

"It was your doing, wasn't it?" He asked, "I said I needed no witnesses, but you always did hold him back. What a waste of potential." The 'Father' told her, before grabbing her and dragging her through the window.

Bringing her to her knees, he grasped the sides of her head.

The woman desperately clawing at his arms. The female agent releasing a desperate cry for mercy as he began crushing her head.

Blood began trailing from her eyes and nose, crying out until her head splattered between his hands, sending a splatter of bone and brain matter across his face.

Dropping her now destroyed head, he realised it, the now sludge like head hit the ground with a wet splat.

Before the 'Father' flicked his hands, looked back at the Imps, "What the fuck are you?!" Blitzø yelled at him.

The human only smiled, walking over, he gently grabbed the wooden case before walking back over and placing it on the table.

Walking over to the now collapsed male agent, he placed his foot on the side of his head. "I... am alpha and Omega." He said coldly, staring him right in the eyes before crushing the other agents head beneath his foot.

Walking back to the table, he grabbed a red cloth, wiping his face before placing on his glasses he turned to the two Imps.

"Oh Satan... Oh, Satan please, please help me" Moxxie begged, clearly losing his shit. "Please just let me see Millie one last time, I don't want to die."

Before Blitzø could snap at his limp dick employee for showing weakness, the roof began to rumble, bit suddenly gave way, Millie falling through carrying a battle axe.

"MILLIE!!!" Moxxie practically cried, tears of joy beading in his eyes.

"MOX!" Millie cried back, rushing over and getting them out of ther bindings.

Just after that Loona broke through the door, Blitzø taking a moment to tell her how proud he was to see her in the field.

Now all free and together they turned to the 'Father', finding him still very much cool and collected, the sight sending a bone chilling shiver down his spine.

"Just in time" The human spoke, seemingly happy at the outcome "Its so good to see a family reunited."

"Now I imagine one of you have my Grimoire?" He asked inspecting his fingers. "Give it to me and I'll let you leave."

Now it was Blitzøs turn to chuckle, "Nah, I don't think so." He spoke cockily, reaching into his emergency pack for a gun.

The 'Father' just chuckled again, standing up straight he snapped his finger. And like it were choreographed, dozens of suit wearing humans burst into the room.

"Gentlemen!" He addressed them "These demonic scum have killed your commanders. And they shall do it again and again and again, until you send them back to hell." He told them, stepping into the back room.

The fight after that was one of the best Blitzø had ever had, although it would have been even better if he didn't have this injured leg.

Regardless, the whole thing was so bad ass and everyone was working together so well. He even got to see his Loony kick some ass.

Firing a missle, from his over sized launcher, he cleared what was left of the agents.

He'd though that was it, there weren't anybody left to stop them.

He was wrong.

The lights to switch to red, an alarm start blaring through the facility.

They all made for the door, only for a series of doors to slam in there face, locking them in the room.

His Loony tried desperately to read the book, but couldn't see anything in the crimson light that filled the room

It was then he heard a slow clapping, all of them turning to find the 'Father' giving them a condescending clap.

"Well done, Hellspawn, Well done. You've killed all the witnesses, depleted your ammunition and now I know you can't read the Grimoire in crimson light. Well done."

Standing before them, even outnumbered and unharmed, the 'Father' seemed to hold total control of the situation.

Before he could think of something any, all the air seemed to such out of the room, demonic whispers filling the room like shadows.

"You dare threaten my Impish little plaything~" the whispers spoke.

He knew this voice, but like his friends and family, he chose not to speak, too caught up in the moment.

Screens flew off the wall, avian footprints trailed across the floor. The bodies of the dead agents rose to there feet, eyes black as they began the intricate process of drawing some demonic symbol from there own blood.

Stepping back the 'Fther' looked about, before smiling, "Finally" He whispered, pulling out a flask and began chugging it.

Shadows seemed to slither like a million black snakes crawled across the floor, disappearing at the 'Fathers' feet.

There was a long pause before the human bent over and violently projectile vomited, throwing up what seemed like gallons of black liquid from his mouth.

The vomiting stopped, the human standing back up.

The back liquid slowly pulled itself to gathering, slowly morphing into a figure.

The black tar slowly formed into feathers, limbs and fingers, a set of crimson eyes appearing in the black goo.

The figure appeared to be Stolas. But this was not the elegant demon lord of hell.

This being was a wretched, wounded animal, covered in filth.

The 'Father' just wiped his mouth, that cold gaze returning to his eyes. Stepping forwards he grabbed Stolas by the filthy collar, staring him down.

The owl demon was a sputtering mess, coughing up black liquids as he tried to breathproperly.

The owl looked up at him.

And for the very first time in wjat was likely a millennia of existence, Stolas looked Terrified.

Not scared.

Terrified.

Grabbing at the arms of the human, the Prince of Hell sputtered out, "W-what are you?"

The human stopped, looking down at the owl, leaning down and whispered, "I am the beginning... and i am the end..."

The owl just stared up at him in horror, the humans hand coming to wrap around his throat, the demon feebly attempting to break free from his grasp.

There was a long moment where the only sound in the room was the prince's pitiful wheezing, frail little cries coming from the owl as the life was squeezed out of him.

The sounds were seemingly corked by a wet smack ringing out.

Blitzø had taken one of the agents weapons, a large knife and had impaled the 'Human' through the lower stomach.

There was a long moment of silence, before the 'human' slowly turned to look at him with that same cold gaze.

Without releasing Stolas, he pulled his arm back and smacked Blitzø, sending him sliding back to his friends.

Reaching down, he grabbed the knife, yanking it out of his back without hesitation.

Nothing came from his wound, and when pulling the knife out, no blood stained it's blade.

With knife in hand, he released the owl, letting his pathetic form hit the ground, the owl desperately gasping for breath.

Leaning down, you grasped Stolas' wrist, the owl releasing a pathetic little gasp of pain, followed by a frail little whimper as the 'Human' slid the blade across his wrist.

But what came next left them all shocked.

Bringing his wrist to his mouth, he pressed his mouth down before greedily suckling the foul blood straight from his veins.

He drank down the demons fowl blood, not making a sound cept the muscles of his throat contracting to push the fowl liquid down his throat.

The demons black blood flowed down his throat. Every demon in the room just watched, to shocked to think and to fearful to do anything as you had your way with the Prince.

After a few minutes of the 'Father' drinking the demons blood, he finally released the demons wrist. The owl quickly clutching his wrist to his chest as he desperately clawing to get away from the 'human'.

The 'Father' stood there, panting as a demons black blood stained his lips.

When he finally opened his eyes, they held a Unholy glint to them.

Wiping his lips he walked forwards, calmly packing what few items had survived the fighting into his bag before Putting on his glasses and placing the small white band into his shirt collar.

Walking past the now cowering demon Prince, he leaned over and pressed one of the buttons on the dashboard, instantly the lights returned to normal.

Stepping before the group they awaited some sort of attack, or threat, what they got instead was a single phrase "Excuse me."

He said it so simply, each hellborne took a moment to make sure they'd heard correctly.

Each of them just stared for a moment before Millie spoke up, "What?"

The human raised a brow, lowering his glasses he asked again, this time his voice cold, threateningly cold, "Excuse me."

The demons awkwardly stepped to the side, giving him a clear path to walk.

Walking past them he gave them a slight nod, "Thank you."

The demons were all in shock, silently watching the 'human' walk away from them.

"That's it?" Blitzø asked before he could stop himself, quickly slamming his hands to his mouth.

The 'Father' stopped in his tracks, looking over his shoulder, he smiled, "Kill you later." He told them playfully, lowering his glasses and giving them a wink.

He walked away, the eerie sound of his shoes on cold tile floors permanently burned into there memory.

Hey Hey, I hope you enjoyed. I really wanted to try something a bit different. I had the idea for this in my head since episode 6 came out and I just really like the idea of an unknown entity showing up with either motive or intentions clear to anyone.

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed, I really wanna start writing more of my own original ideas, so expect more content in the future. Bye Bye.

[oneshot-wxnderland]

Lab Partners With Benefits Pt. 2 | Percy Jackson

Summary: A week has gone by and Y/n hasn’t stopped thinking about her encounter with Percy. Now it’s time for her lab and she can’t tell if she’s yearning or dreading seeing him again.

Category: smut

Part 1 | Part 3

__________________

          One week later and you walked into your lab again. This time however, your table was empty. Disappointment curbed your mix of nerves, excitement, and dread at seeing Percy again as you sat down. 

          Good, you thought. Gives me a chance to calm the hell down and stop acting so childish.

          But as the minutes ticked down to the start of class and Percy had yet to make an appearance, your eyebrows creased in thought. 

          Where was he? Was it normal for him to roll in at the last second?

          Before last week you hadn’t paid any attention to him, but since last week he had rarely left your mind. Shamefully, you admit it. Those few hours with Percy had played on repeat since they ended. And not even just when he was kissing you, although that part was frequently visited. No, you were hung up on the most mundane things about him, like how he ran his hand through his hair whenever he got stuck on a question. Or the way he always had a beat going in his fingers or legs. Or the way actually opened a door for you. Do people even still do that? 

          Mack started the class with a greeting and you snapped out of your head. 

          Percy still wasn’t here.

          Is he avoiding me? No, he’s just a college student that’s running late or skipping class. Well, he better not be skipping class because you have a tough assignment to do today. Speaking of which, you forced yourself to listen to your TA explain it. 

          “What did I miss?” A familiar voice whispered in your ear and you jumped, whipping your head to see Percy in the seat next to you, failing to suppress a grin.

          Your frazzled nerves made you want to respond with a few choice words, but the mischievous gleam in his green eyes made it hard to stay mad at him.

          “Where were you?” you asked him, passing over his copy of the work. 

          “I had to take care of something.” 

          The cryptic answer gave you cause to look over him as he turned his attention to the front of the room. His hair was messy, his cheeks slightly flushed, and you couldn’t be sure since he caught you staring, but you think you saw a cut in his shirt. It looked like he was just in a fight. 

          “Is your shirt cut?” you asked and reached out to inspect it, fingers meeting his side through the hole and making him jump. Percy took your wrist and brought it back up to the table.

          “Hey, wait till after class,” he slyly reprimanded you, drawing a scoff out of you. Which drew the attention of the people sitting closest to you, so you both lowered your voices further.

          “Seriously though,” you nodded your head to his side. “How’d that happen?”

          “I snagged it,” he started. “On a tree.”

          “Right.”

          You were about to ask him what he did to make the tree mad when the feeling of something on your hand drew your attention. He was absentmindedly rubbing circles on your skin with his thumb, and it wasn’t until then that you realized he was still holding your hand. This made him also notice that you were holding hands and you awkwardly pulled away first. An uncomfortable silence fell over you both that lasted the rest of the lab.

          It was weird how natural it felt to hold his hand and to talk with him like that. You had barely spoken since you met and while you had been moderately physically intimate with him before, you hadn’t been this kind of intimate. This whole relationship with Percy is unlike one you’ve never experienced before. You’re not quite strangers, not quite friends, not quite together. The massive grey area surrounding Percy made red flags pop up in your head. And yet, when he casually invited you back to his place once the lab had ended, your mouth accepted before your mind could stop you. 

          This time you actually made it into the living room before you started making out. Even going so far as to make a show of setting up your lab books on the coffee table as if you were actually going to get work done before you couldn’t take it anymore and pulled him to you by his collar.

          This time, you set a slower pace than your frenzied kisses against the door, allowing you to savor every move he made. Percy relinquished control of the kiss to you and tugged on your thigh until you were straddling his lap. His hands pressed flat against your lower back until your chest was flush with his and tilted his chin up to catch your lips again. 

          You felt him shiver when your fingertips met the back of his neck, tugging on the hair there. As a result you felt Percy smirk against your lips and in a deep voice that made heat flare up through your core he told you, “Hold on.”

          Percy paused in kissing you and his warning made your eyebrows crease in confusion until you felt his hands hook under your thighs and he shifted his weight until he was slightly standing. Then he twisted and laid you down on the couch and had his mouth back on yours before you could process what had happened. 

          In the new position, Percy took control of the kiss and sped it up a little, but still took his time tugging your bottom lip between his teeth. His thumbs made little circles on your thighs from where he was still gripping them and it brought you back to earlier in the day. In response your own hands moved down his back and to his sides where your finger found the hole in his shirt again.

          “It was a tree,” he said against your lips.

          “Sure it was,” you replied.

          At that Percy pushed up into a kneeling position with your legs still on either side of his hips and you worried for a second that he was actually bugged by your insistence with the hole-thing. Until he pulled his shirt off and your mind short circuited. He balled it up and tossed it across the room with a final, “There. Outta sight, outta mind.”

          Your jaw was still partially dropped from the revelation of his surprisingly toned abdomen and you gave a distracted “Uh-huh” before you all but yanked him back down to you, surprising him with your strength and the newfound urgency in your kiss. He matched the new tempo and your legs hooked around his waist, causing him to groan and rock his hips down into yours. 

          Percy savored the gasp you let out and ground into you again. One of his hands hitched your thigh up higher and the other traveled up your hip and under your shirt to grip your side. He allowed you to catch your breath as he leaned up to your ear.

          “What do you want, princess?” His husky voice blew any and all recollection of red flags and warnings straight out of your mind, in fact everything was emptied from your head except for thoughts pertaining to how good he felt pressed against you and how much more of him you needed.

          “You. All of you.” 

          Percy could’ve died a happy man right then and there. 

          He ducked back down to your mouth, recapturing it with his own and picking up where he left off. This time he felt the heat of the mutual understanding of where the situation was headed and braced his hand above your head on the couch armrest. However, that action did bring up the first smart thought he’d had since he sat next to you earlier.

          “Wait.” He pulled back and eyed your lips, which were red from his kisses.

          “What’s wrong?” You asked and brushed a chunk of hair away from his eyes.

          “If I get to have you, we’re not doing it on the couch my roommate got off Craigslist.” 

          You threw your head back laughing and Percy could only stare and smile dumbly, feeling something new he hadn’t felt in a long time.

          But then he remembered what was to come and hooked his hands underneath your thighs again to lift you up. 

          Percy was conflicted. On the one hand he wanted to get to his bedroom as quickly as possible. But on the other he loved the way your arms were wrapped tight around him and how you had occupied yourself with placing kisses along his neck. So he decided to take a detour through the kitchen to grab some granola bars.

          “Are you kidding me?” 

          “We might be hungry later!” He defended himself and felt you drop your forehead to his shoulder.

          “Just walk.”

          Fortunately the granola-detour didn’t completely kill the mood and Percy kicked his door shut and somehow stumbled to the bed while completely lost in your kiss. His plan was to drop you onto the covers and then take off his jeans, but you had other plans and refused to let go of him so he fell on top of you. The bouncing from the fall made your shirt ride up and Percy took the opportunity to run his hands up the exposed skin, stopping just as his fingertips were in reach of the underside of your bra.

          You broke the kiss for a moment to grant his unspoken request and pulled your shirt off, but when you laid back down his lips didn’t return to yours. Instead his mouth dragged down your neck, conscious of the marks he would leave. When he reached your collar bone, your hands buried themselves in his hair as his hands squeezed your bra and placed hot kisses on the skin that spilled over the top. 

          “Percy,” you moaned as your back arched up into his touch. “Percy, please.” 

          “Please what?” He looked up at you.

          “Please, touch me.”

           “I am touching you.” He responded and proved his point with another tight squeeze to your chest.

          “You know what I mean,” you huffed, knowing you were playing right into his teasing by getting riled up but dammit, you needed him badly. 

          He tilted his head innocently. “Do I?”

          Even though he was looking up at you with those big green eyes, you could tell by the way his thigh pressed between your legs that he knew exactly what you meant. As hot as his teasing was, you had spent all week thinking about him and you just couldn’t wait any longer, so you pulled him up to you by his hair and tried to speak as evenly and clearly as you could. 

          “Percy Jackson if you do not quit teasing me I will-.” Your gasp cut you off when his hand slipped beneath your pants and pressed against your core.

          “Oh, you meant here?” The cocky bastard punctuated his words with a pinch to your clit. “Is this what you wanted?”

          Percy committed the speechless look on your face to memory as you glared back up at him. 

          “I hate you.” you ground out when the initial shock of his touch faded. You hated his infuriating smirk. You hated his disheveled dark hair. You hated how his hands left you to pull down your pants at an achingly slow pace. And you especially hated how he somehow knew exactly how to touch you. 

          “Is that so? Then you’re gonna really hate this.” 

          His warning barely registered with you before two fingers plunged into you. Percy cherished the way you cried out and clenched around his fingers, imagining how it would feel around his dick later on. 

          The achingly slow pace he set as his digits pumped in and out of you turned you to puddy in his hands, eyes screwed shut so that you didn’t notice Percy lean down until you felt his breath against your ear.

          “You like that? You want more?” he asked, but grew unsatisfied by your lack of response. The hand that wasn’t currently brushing your g-spot with every curl came up to your jaw and turned your face to his. “Answer me.”

          “Yes,” you panted as his palm pressed on your clit. “I want more. Please give me more, Percy.”

“Good girl.” He praised and swiped his thumb across your bottom lip. “But I don’t think you deserve it. You’ve been greedy for my touch and ungrateful for what I give you. Distracting me all through class with your leg pressed against mine and your cleavage teasing me every time you leaned into the table.”

          The way his fingers were speeding up made it hard to focus on his voice in your ear but he continued anyway.

          “Barely said a word to me but now here you are,” he took his time pressing a kiss to the spot below your ear. “So desperate for my cock.” 

          Your approaching orgasm made your pride disappear and you readily begged him for release. 

          “Look at you, so pretty when you beg for me.” He watched you intently, taking in every signal your body gave until he knew you were seconds from going over the edge. “I bet you do this all the time.”

          At that he suddenly pulled his hand away from where you needed it. Your whine of frustration had no affect on him as he leisurely brought his fingers to his mouth to clean them of your juices.

          “Huh? I bet you tease any poor guy who happens to sit next to you. You get them so hooked on you that they follow you to bed. Isn’t that right, baby?” Percy’s words and lack of contact made you hurriedly deny them.

          “No,” you insisted and turned your face to his. “Of course not.”

          “No? Are you sure?” His hand caressed your jaw and moved down, tempting you with feather light touches.

          “Yes. There’s only you.” Your assurances earned you a kiss.

          “Good girl. Now roll over and stick that pretty ass up for me.” 

          Doing as he said, your cheek pressed into his pillow and your back arched for him, hoping that your eager compliance will get him to forgo any further teasing and just rail you. 

          Percy brushed the hair from your face and leaned down to place a sweet kiss on the back of your neck and whisper, “You’re so beautiful.”

          The softness of his tone distracted you until his hands found their hold on your hips and he thrusted into you. 

          Percy’s low groan filled your ears while his cock filled your pussy. You don’t think you’ve ever been this stretched before and you weren’t sure you could’ve taken him if you hadn’t already been so wet. The way his hands gripped you tighter made you peek over your shoulder to see his eyes shut and arms strained to keep himself from ramming into you. 

          I mean what can you say it was fucking hot. 

          To put him out of his misery you rolled your hips against his as a signal that you were ready and it apparently caught him off guard since he let out a cute little gasp. Then he caught you looking at him and his cheeks reddened at your smiling to his boyish response. The only way you could describe his following look was “You’re gonna regret that.”

          But when he started off at a brutal pace you honestly could say you didn’t regret a thing. His dick pounded into you and hit deeper than anyone else had before. Your hands desperately tried to find purchase on his sheets and gripped them tightly when one of his hands snaked around and found your clit again. 

          Percy hung on every noise you made and wondered if anything else would ever sound as good as you moaning his name, which made him want to see your face as you did.

          He pulled out of you and turned you onto your back, your eyes meeting as he propped one of your legs against his shoulder and went back to work. He liked this. Being able to watch you come undone around him, your hair a mess and your chest bouncing with his thrusts. But he also saw your hands grappling the sheets for something to hold onto and he thought he would offer his services one again.

          Percy leaned down over you and captured your mouth with his once again, not breaking his rhythm even as your hands tugged on his shoulders and pulled him closer to you still.

          “Y/n,” he groaned into your mouth when your hand gave a particularly hard pull to his hair.

          “Percy, I’m… I-.”

          “I know.” Your climax was moments away and Percy’s was right behind it. “Cum for me, babygirl.”

          This boy was going to be the death of you. Percy leaned back from the kiss to hear all of the pretty sounds you made as you came around his cock, the clenching of your walls sending him over the edge with you.

          You pulled Percy back down to you for one last kiss as you rode out your highs, this one slower than before. His forehead rested against yours as you were catching your breath and he kissed it before rolling over to lay next to you. Time passed as you both lay there for a while coming down from your highs and your eyes remained on the ceiling as your hand tentatively found his. 

          This is probably too weird he’s going to ask me to leave now that it’s over and in what world do you hold hands with somebody you just hooked up with? Your worries were silenced as he confidently took your hand in his and squeezed it. 

          “You want a granola bar?” he asked, causing a tired and satisfied burst of laughter to come from you. 

          “Fuckin… sure,” you replied and he reached over you to the nightstand and on his forearm you saw the “mysterious gang affiliated” tattoo that Lauren had been freaked out about. You admit, it was kind of weird, but it was probably nothing. 

          It could be initials or something, you pondered. The ‘P’ could stand for Percy.

          “Here.” The boy in question offered you a granola bar and you unwrapped them before cheersing. You were kind of hungry, content to just lay there and eat the stupid granola bar and breathe with him.

          “You did clean that couch after you got it off Craigslist, right?” You asked him after it popped into your head.

          “What? Oh… yeah. Yeah.”

          “Liar.”

Part 3

[samuel-de-champagne-problems]

It's Delicate: Part II

Summary: Spencer Reid finds himself at a gas station at 2:00 am, thinking he’s only leaving with a cup of crappy coffee. But something taped to the door catches his eye. Spencer leaves the gas station with more than he intended: the chance at a friend, and maybe something more along the way.

Word Count: 3.6 k

Author’s Note: Here's the second part in It's Delicate, my first chapter fic. I've planned out kind of where I see this eventually going! Thank you to anyone who reads, likes, comments, and reblogs. It really means the world to me.

Content Warnings: Expletive language (3 uses), mentions of drug use, sexual innuendo

READ PART I

It's Delicate Masterlist

It's Delicate

Sitting on the plane, Spencer looks out from the little window. For hours, there’s been nothing but corn fields and clouds. It’s eerily peaceful, being there high above the clouds. His whole life Spencer has felt this distance between him and everyone else, but nothing makes that feeling more prominent than being strapped in a glorified metal box 35,000 feet off the Earth’s surface. But the thing is, Spencer does need to be flying above the trees to feel lonely. He can do that with two feet on the ground.

Luke sits across Spencer, the table between them and a deck of playing cards are spread out across its surface. He has to nudge Spencer’s leg from under the table, trying to bring him back to reality as he stares out the window.

“Whatcha thinking,” Luke asks, Spencer has been noticing more and more that Luke is one of the few people that actually listens to him.

Spencer, whose mind is racing too fast to even formulate an articulate thought, attempts to dodge Luke’s question with a noncommittal shrug.

“Reid, these cases are hard for all of us, you gotta know that man,” Luke says, laying down a four of a kind.

Spencer narrows his eyes, shocked that it hasn’t clicked yet for the rest of the team. He cracks his neck, preparing to answer Luke.

“We almost locked up an innocent man, Alvez. I almost sent another man to the same fate as myself. What kind of fucked up message is that?” Spencer says, throwing down the cards on the table. He doesn’t wait for Luke to respond.

“I fold,”

Spencer walks off into the small kitchenette to make a cup of coffee. He doesn’t want to think about his increased reliance on coffee, because he knows it’s a hot cup of coffee or a cold needle of Dilaudid in his veins. Spencer checks his watch, it’s 10:17 pm, maybe too late to find a meeting at a church or rec center somewhere.

He sneaks a peak at his phone, which was still unfortunately on Airplane Mode, he hasn’t even gotten a chance to see if Y/N has responded. He doesn’t know much about her, just as much as she knows about him.

It’s a brave new world for Spencer and he’s knee deep into the unknown.

Spencer can feel Luke’s eyes on him. He just knows that the minute he gets home, a certain tech expert will be ringing him. He knows that it’s Luke’s way of caring, but for someone who’s been alone for so long, having people that actually care is almost drowning.

Walking back to his seat, Spencer hands Luke a coffee. He smiles slightly; it’s the awkward smile that he used to make when intimating police chiefs and idiot cops would look him up and down like he’s a TA. It’s a peace offering for Luke, who despite his tough looking exterior, is one of the kindest people Spencer knows.

“Look, Reid. I’m sorry that we didn’t put it together. It’s just that man that we caught, he’s not like you. He’s not innocent of crimes, he’s just innocent of this crime,” Luke says in an attempt to make Spencer feel a little bit better.

“The thing is Luke, I’m exactly like that man,”

Spencer returns to staring out the window. The cards and the coffee on the table are long ignored for the silence that is found when you’re high above the clouds.

--

Spencer hears Tara and Emily murmur quietly about going out for a round of drinks. Luke accepts, while JJ and Matt decline, eager to get home to their families. Emily looks over at Spencer, her eyes silently scanning him, his body language. Spencer knows that there’s nothing he can hide from Emily, so there’s no use in trying to pretend he’s alright when she can take one look at him and know that nothing is right.

“You guys have fun, I’m going to head home and get some sleep. I plan on visiting my mom tomorrow and mornings are usually better for her,” Spencer says, slinging his go bag around his shoulders and making the trek back to the security to check out.

He walks slowly, enjoying the sound of the crickets chirping as he trudges along. Spencer tries not to think about the man, Richard, who was almost locked up for a crime that he didn’t commit. Spencer is pretty sure that being the person to throw an innocent man in jail is worse than being the innocent man in jail.

Spencer’s phone buzzes loudly, disturbing the silence of his walk. He looks at the phone to see a couple of messages from Y/N. Spencer slides open the lock to his phone and hits the button to read her messages.

Y/N: Spencer...that has a nice ring to it. So tell me a little bit about yourself. Your big three, but as books. Go! 🌞🌙⬆️

Furrowing his brow, Spencer reads the message over again. He does not have a clue what “big three” means, but it seems like some sort of pop culture thing that he’s not skilled in. He wants to text Garcia for a translation, but he’s also not too keen on telling her how he came across Y/N’s number.

Y/N: I assume you’re working, but I'm kind of impatient so I’ll give you mine 🙃 I’m a Little Women sun, an Emma moon, and an In Cold Blood rising.

Y/N: Oh no….I hope my astrology didn’t turn you off

Y/N: Not that I was trying to turn you on

Y/N: omg Y/N please shut the fuck up

Astrology? Spencer isn’t one to judge, but he’s a scientist first and foremost. The idea that there is something written about him in the stars seems like ludicrous. He decided to ignore the other messages, particularly the ones with a little more than slight innuendo.

Spencer: Y/N- I’m sorry I just got out of work. As for my big three, I’m not sure about astrology. I don’t particularly believe in pseudoscience. But those are good choices. In Cold Blood is an excellent choice. Capote spent years researching the case. In fact his prose and technique inspired the entire “Nonfiction novel” genre. The world of journalism and true crime would not be where it is without Capote’s work.

Y/N: Oh my god. You are a total nerd. 🙀

That stops Spencer right in his tracks. He’s only a couple of yards away from the Volvo at this point, but somehow it feels a million miles away. You are a total nerd. The words replay in his mind as the small gray bubbles pop up again. Spencer can feel his heart constrict at Y/N’s words. It’s ridiculous, he’s nearly 34 and is getting upset that a stranger called him a nerd. Spencer unlocks his car and tosses his go bag, phone included onto the passenger seat.

After a couple of minutes his phone buzzes again. He’s half tempted to answer it, but the way his heart seems to beat faster tells him to ignore it.

Y/N: I fucking love it and I think you’ll love this too

Spencer’s entire demeanor changes as he reads the message. He’s always had difficulties reading emotion in writing, especially when he can’t analyze the handwriting. Sometimes, it’s even harder to judge inflection during conversations. Maybe that is why Spencer has spent all this time studying people, studying the way that their minds work. Before he can get too lost in his thoughts, another message pops up.

Y/N: Meet Capote and Second Cat

Y/N: They are the loves of my life

Spencer: They are very...distinguished looking. Capote is an excellent name choice then. Second Cat is also quite catchy.

Spencer hesitates before sending the message, he notices that Y/N uses what Garcia calls “emojis” quite frequently. He assumes that it’s some sort of “texting lingo” that expresses emotion in small graphics. Great, he thinks. He already has a difficult time deciphering Y/N’s cryptic wording and now he’s got to analyze these emojis.

Maybe he should profile her. He re-reads the message and settles on a “����” because he figures that he can’t go wrong with offering Y/N a smile.

Spencer: I don’t have a cat, but when I was a kid I always wanted one, they’re quite good companions for those that live several different kinds of lifestyles. From active to sedentary, they are adaptable and independent. Honestly they are the perfect pet.

Y/N: Is this your way of telling you’re a crazy cat man? 😜 🙀

Spencer, still sitting in his car that’s parked in the parking lot, chuckles at Y/N’s response to his message. Maybe it’s just easier to ignore his rambling when it’s done through 1s and 0s and there isn’t a face to the words.

Spencer: I’m actually more of a fish guy

Y/N: Like a “I-like-to-go-fishing-and-post-picture-of-myself-kissing-my-catch-on-Tinder” kind of fish guy or...I can’t think of any other kind of fish men

Spencer, not totally understanding the obvious joke that Y/N is trying to make, settles on something that he hasn’t really ever tried: being himself.

Spencer: Not quite sure what a Tinder is, but I think fishing is terrifying and kissing a fish is something out of nightmares. But his name is Leo

Y/N: DiCaprio?

Spencer: Uhh, Tolstoy

Y/N: Good😉 ⚔️🕊️ 🇷🇺

Spencer glances at his clock on the control panel, it tells him that he’s been messaging with Y/N back and forth for nearly 22 minutes. He nearly forgot how tired he was.

Spencer: Y/N- I’m so sorry but, I just got to my car to drive home from work. I’ll text you tomorrow morning about the book club, maybe we can figure out some things.

Y/N: OMG Spencer!! you should have told me. I’ve been talking ur ear off. sleep well and yes please tomorrow we can talk about the book club

Y/N: Good night, Book Buddy 😴

Spencer wants to respond to Y/N, but he doesn’t know what to say. She seems to text so easily, and judging by that, she must be around Spencer’s age or a little bit younger. Besides JJ and Penelope, Spencer has never had a friend close to his age. It’s a strange new territory for him and he’s walking in head first into No Man’s Land.

He starts his Volvo, the check engine still lights but, reminding him once again to go get it fixed. Driving away from the parking lot, Spencer hands over his ID to Gina, the security guard. She checks his ID and gives him a tired smile. Spencer, as he drives home to his apartment, thinking about what books he and Y/N will read together. He wonders what kind of books are her favorite, if they have any authors that they can obsess over together, or if what she thinks a poet’s prose is.

The summer air rushing in through the window is nowhere as warm and as comforting as thought of Spencer finally having a friend that isn’t able to read the scars of his past in the text bubbles that pop up on her screen.

--

When Spencer opens his eyes for the first time that morning, he isn’t sure where he is. Sometimes, before he can stop his thoughts from travelling there, Spencer thinks he’s still in jail. He hates the feeling of terror that rushes over him but he hates the idea of being vulnerable a little bit more. But the softness of his pillows and the coolness of his cotton sheets remind him that he’s not sleeping on a hard cot with only a layer of fabric over his body. The light streams in through the half closed blinds, and Spencer judges by how brightly the sun shines in, it must be around 9:45 am.

He supposes that he prefers the way the sun’s rays paint horizontal bars across his face more than the vertical bars that cast gray shadows over his cell at Milburn Penitentiary.

It’s a day off from work, so Spencer didn’t set an alarm, instead allowing his mind and his body to catch up on some much needed rest. The nightmares have been getting better, but his dreams are still haunted by the way that he hardly recognizes himself anymore. Deciding that it will be a day spent in pajamas, Spencer goes to his bookshelf in his bedroom to pick out a couple of novels to read while he drinks his morning coffee and defrosts some of Luke’s strawberry pastries.

Before heading out of his room, Spencer stops himself in the doorway. He replays the events of last night. He declined to go out with the rest of the team, while he walked to his car he thought about the crickets telling the temperature, and he read over Y/N’s messages.

Y/N.

He promised he’d text her back in the morning about their book club. Last night, she didn’t seem to mind Spencer’s long messages and awkward phrasing. He still doesn’t really know how this Book Buddy thing would work, but since he found Y/N’s number on the flyer, he can only assume that she knows what to do. He leaps on his bed, landing with thud on his belly, to grab his phone that charges on his nightstand.

Spencer settles at his kitchen table, a cup of steaming hot Dark Roast coffee in a Captain Spock mug in one hand and, surprisingly, his phone in the other. He scrolls through the messages from last night, Y/N’s cat and emojis tempt a smile to Spencer’s face.

Not entirely sure how to start the conversation again, Spencer looks around for inspiration until his eyes land on a certain fish tank in the corner of his apartment. He snaps a quick picture of Leo and attaches it to the message.

Spencer: Good Morning from Leo & Spencer

Spencer sets down his phone after a moment when he realizes that Y/N is probably not going to answer him back in a couple of seconds. He takes out a strawberry pastry from his freezer and puts it into the toaster oven on a non-stick baking sheet. His thumbs run across the texture of the book he started on the plane ride after his and Luke’s ill fated poker game. It's a thin book of collected essays on the meaning of life. Camus, to Spencer, is a little pessimistic with his droning on about the meaninglessness of life. Though Spence has seen the absolute worst that humanity has to offer, he still has to believe that there’s a deeper meaning behind it all.

His toaster oven rings, altering him so that his toasted strawberry pastry is cooked. He plates his breakfast and pours himself another cup of coffee- he’ll need it to get through Camus’s section on Absurdism this early in the morning. But the flash of Spencer’s phone screen sends him reaching for his phone. Y/N replied to his message.

Y/N: hi leo!!!

Y/N: and you too Spencer :) Did you get a good night’s sleep. You got back late it seems.

Spencer, taking a bite of the strawberry pastry, ignores the burning sensation in his mouth. He types out a response to Y/N as he washes down the bite with a swing of coffee.

Spencer: I did, thank you. Can you tell me a little bit more about this book buddy thing. From what I gathered from the flyer it’s like a little book club of our own and we meet at the bookstore?

It doesn’t take long for Y/N to respond. The little gray dots pop up almost immediately after Spencer’s message is delivered.

Y/N: That’s about right! Is it okay if I call you? Kinda easier to talk that way 🤷‍♀️

Spencer reads over the message a couple of times. He doesn’t really like to talk on the phone and only does it out of necessity. He’s pretty sure that his voice is grating and his vocal fry is quite irritating. Yet, he finds himself replying “yes” to Y/N. Soon enough, his phone buzzes in his hand and Spencer has to remind himself how to pick up a call.

“Spencer? Um, this is Spencer Reid, right?” the voice says. It’s a woman’s voice and he can only assume that it’s Y/N, considering it is her phone number calling him.

“Y/N, uh hi. This is Dr. Spencer- I mean this is Spencer,” he says, nearly forgetting that Y/N doesn’t know him as Dr. Reid, but as just Spencer. It’s been a long time since someone has known him as Spencer.

“Oh great! It’s wonderful to finally have a voice to your name. So about these buddy reads. You seem to have a good grasp of what they are,” Y/N’s voice trails off a little bit at the end and Spencer finds it natural to fill in the silence.

“Yes, the flyer was quite informative. But I was wondering, do we read the same books or do we read different books?” Spencer asks, trying to restrain himself from scaring Y/N off. But something about her made him think that she didn’t scare easily.

Y/N chuckles lightly in the speaker of her phone, “that’s a good question, uh, I was actually going to ask you what you would rather. We can read the same books, or if it’s okay with you we can choose what the other would read for that week,”

“Oh really?” Spencer says, very much aware how his voice rises a couple of octaves. He can’t trust himself to hold back on rambling over the phone Y/N, so he resorts to using his strained, brittle voice that’s full of hesitation and restraint.

“That’s the plan, so whatcha thinking, Spencer,” Y/N says playfully, like she can sense that phone conversations maybe not make him feel at ease. There’s something so natural and silvery about her voice; it reminds Spencer of an audiobook reader. While he’s not too keen on audiobooks, he’s sure that he’d listen to anything she reads or has to say.

“Um, I think it sounds interesting to pick out books for each other. I tend to gravitate towards more technical books or even books that aren’t in English so, uh, I think it would be interesting to get out of my comfort zone,” Spencer says, cringing internally at using the word “interesting” twice in a couple of sentences.

“Well, as long as you don’t pick out something in physics or anything by Ayn Rand then I’d say we’re good,” Y/N says. Spencer thinks it’s a joke, but he’s not too sure how to respond.

“Will you still be my Book Buddy if I read 1 out of 2 of those?” Spencer asks, hoping she’d get that he is trying to continue the joke.

“Oh no Spencer please don’t tell me you’re an Ayn Rand fanboy,” she says, and by the airy way she laughs, Spencer ventures to guess his joke landed successfully.

“So,” Spencer starts, he never has made plans with people outside of his team, and on top of that, there’s something about Y/N’s quickness that makes him a little nervous to meet her.

“I’m talking your ear off, aren’t I? Please Spencer, if you’re going to be my Book Buddy, you’re going to have to get used to me talking a lot, especially you pick out good books, which, I already have a feeling you’re going to be favorite Book Buddy,”

For once in his life, Spencer doesn’t really know how to respond. He lets out something in between a strangled laughter and a noncommittal chuckle.

“So,” Y/N says, mirroring Spencer’s earlier words, “so are you free tonight, I can meet you at the bookstore..”

Y/N’s voice trails off and Spencer leaps to finish her sentences. It doesn’t feel like his interjecting or interrupting, but like he’s snapping a puzzle piece together.

“Does 7 work?” “7 is great, Spencer. It’s a date,”

Those three little words send Spencer’s eyes flying wide open. He scrambles to come up with answer to louden the silence that falls, but he swears he can hear a string of quiet curses before Y/N manages to squeak out a small “goodbye,”

Y/N’s last words play back in Spencer’s ears. He scolds himself for being so weird and awkward that the very idea of going on a date with him would send Y/N in a tizzy. It’s not a date, because Spencer can’t think about it being a date. It’s not a date because of the looming photo above his mantle that freezes his future in the past. It’s not a date because of the nightmare of vertical bars that haunt his dreams

It’s not a date. It’s so not a date because Spencer would call Luke to come over to help him if it was.

“Hey Luke,” Spencer says, trying to control the nervous waves in his voice, “no man, I’m fine, it’s uh, easier if you just come over. I’m fine, really,”

Y/N: I really hope you're not an Ayn Rand fanboy 😉

It’s so not a date.

--THANK YOU FOR READING--

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| 🍒 CH-CH-CHERRY BOMB! 🍒 |     [CHAPTER 18]

pairing; dom!seungcheol x camgirl!reader

this chapter’s notes; dom!seungcheol, dirty talk, car sex, filmed sex videos, using panties as a gag, but also panty stuffing, choking, domme!reader for like .3 seconds ☠️, after all the mess of last night(iykyk) i think we need this lol, but also a bit of a filler chapter for… reasons. 💕 but also came out raunchier than I anticipated but that was maybe just a me thing LOL 😭 as always, thank you for all the love and support with cherry bomb💕💕 only two more chapters left, I cant believe it... 😭😭😭 also again, another inbox roundup tomorrow! For now, enjoy ch 18 and have a great weekend! Be safe! ❤️🍒

not me editing the notes to include the ❤️🍒 that cheol just used on weverse 😩

chapters; 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10 - 11 - 12 - 13 - 14 - 15 - 16 - 17 - 18 - x - x

“Did you get it?”

Jun looks around the diner as he nods, “Yeah. It got to my house yesterday but I still don’t understand why I had to help you get this… Does Seungcheol-hyung not know? I’m confused.” He laughs nervously, somewhat concerned he’s helping you do something you shouldn’t be doing.

You grin back at the confused male, blinking innocently at him while he chuckles under his breath.

“Not… for now. But don’t worry. He’ll find out! I just… Haven’t brought it up to him yet, is all! But I will! ‘Cause we’re planning something~”

Jun’s lips fall into a surprised ‘o’, eyes flitting to the group of people that enter the diner.

“I’ll be with you in a moment!” He yells, smiling before he turns to face you again. “So you’re scheming something but hyung’s just not part of the scheming… yet?”

“Exactly!”

“Hey, what do you say we go on a picnic date on Saturday?”

You tilt your head at Seungcheol, eyebrows raised. “I mean, I’d love to but we need to… post on Saturday? We haven’t filmed anything yet so I thought we’d film early on Saturday and then… y’know.”

Seungcheol grins at you from the opposite end of the sofa; eyes glimmering with a playfulness that has you mumbling a quiet ‘I see’ before rolling your eyes jokingly at the male.

“I see you’re scheming so the answer is yes, ‘Cheol, I’d love to go on a date with you on Saturday.”

“Good, ‘cause I already have everything set up for us so it would’ve been a waste!”

The two of you share a laugh before you’re remembering what you needed to bring up to Seungcheol. “Hey, by the way… about the channel rebranding thing.” Pausing, you wait for him to give you his full attention before you continue. “I thought maybe, we skip next week’s Wednesday show and instead we do a Friday show and for the last time, do a Saturday show and that’ll be, like, the rebranding? Is that confusing?”

Seungcheol nods along slowly, “No I know what you’re goin’ for. Any ideas for the shows?”

Your face and cheeks feel hot as you squirm, “Well… I had this idea. Why don’t we each… come up with a show concept. I’ll pick Friday’s show and you can pick Saturday’s and we’ll go with each other’s idea. Not, like, a competition but y’know, I thought it’d be fun for our viewers too! They can see what we come up with when each of us have control of the theme.”

Seungcheol goes quiet, contemplating his options. “And neither of us will know what the other’s concept is until the show?”

“Mmhmm! All within our hard limits though! That’s the only rule.”

A grin finds its way onto Seungcheol’s face. 

Oh, did he have ideas.

“Sounds fun. Can’t wait to see what you come up with, baby.”

‘Jeongguk I have a favour.’

Jeon 🥴: always favours wit u but ok, i havent been disappointed yet

Jeon 🥴: u keep me on my toes, it makes me tingly 

‘Shut up’

‘Do you have Jimin’s phone number, by chance?’

Jeon 🥴: I mean yea i do but…

Jeon 🥴: nvm i dont wanna kno

Jeon 🥴: but actually i wanna kno before i give it to u

‘Just give me the number and you can find out next Saturday’

Jeon 🥴: cryptic but i like it

Jeon 🥴: 82 13 1013 0613

Jeon 🥴: ur welcome

‘Thanks, Jeongguk, I owe you.’

The week continues with you and Seungcheol continuing to plan without each other; sly smirks and hushed giggles passed between you both even when Friday’s show comes and goes.

Saturday morning greets you with cloudy skies and pouring rain and you pout at Seungcheol as soon as you manage to get the curtains open to watch the downpour.

“‘Cheol, it’s raining… How are we gonna go on a picnic date now?” He bites the inside of his cheek as he thinks.

“We can still go on our date, we’ll just… stay in the car. It’s not as romantic as I would’ve liked but I already had everything set up for us and even packed a basket.” He laughs under his breath, a little deflated that the rain had suddenly come and ruined his plans.

There went his idea of fucking you on a big picnic blanket out in the open.

“I gotta say, even though we’re just chilling in your parked car on the hillside… It’s actually quite pretty out here, ‘Cheol! Kinda calming with the rain and all~”

The two of you stay bundled up underneath a blanket in the backseat; the car windows already fogged up with the warmth the two of you radiate.

Seungcheol had packed a picnic basket filled with various snacks and premade food; a sheepish smile on his face when he told you he wasn’t sure what to bring.

“I would’ve made food but I wanted it to be a surprise and I also wasn’t sure what would’ve been good to bring. Although, now I’m thinkin’ we should’ve packed a thermos of hot chocolate or something.”

You pull away from him slightly, pouting. “That would’ve been good to warm us up a bit. I totally didn’t think of it either…”

Seungcheol grins, wiggling his eyebrows at you. “Speaking of warming up…” He leaves the comfort of the blanket as he leans over to the side, placing his phone precariously on the phone holder that he’d set up on the backside of the driver’s seat to catch a side view of the two of you. He opens the camera app and quickly starts recording before he settles back into his place across from you.

“Well? Give it to me, baby. Right now.”

You feel a thrum of arousal pour over you at his sudden demand, “I--but--but I’m not p-prepped yet, I--”

Seungcheol chuckles, shaking his head slightly before he leans over you; making sure the two of you are within the camera’s line of filming.

“Baby, I just wanted a kiss.” Your entire face goes hot, all the way up to your ears. “O-oh.”

He leans in, soft lips pressing against your own as he tangles a hand in your hair to deepen the kiss. You melt into his touch, lips parting on their own as you let out soft moans that mix in with the pitter patter of rain outside.

His lips leave yours and before you can even get a word out, a shiver runs up your spine when he starts pressing soft kisses against your jawline.

“So pretty and all mine.” He mumbles; voice muffled against your warm skin. “And now everyone knows who you belong to, right, angel?”

You nod shakily, throat dry at the gentleness in Seongcheol’s voice. “Y-yeah… ‘m all yours, ‘C--Cheol…”

“Should I leave some reminders? Just in case anyone forgets.”

You mewl in response, eyes rolling back when you feel Seungcheol starting to leave love bites on your neck. He sucks on the skin, only to soothe it with his tongue moments after.

“A-ah, don’t l-leave so many or e-else…” Whining, you rub your thighs together under the blanket; already feeling the arousal starting to take over your body.

“Or else…? I wasn’t aware you were giving me orders now, baby.” He smirks against your skin, leaving one more love bite on the column of your neck before he pulls away.

He kisses you softly on the lips once more before he’s pulling the blanket off of you and tugging you onto his lap; a gentle, warm smile on his plush lips. Your lust filled eyes meet Seungcheol’s before they’re flitting down to your lap where he pushes your skirt up to reveal your panties and before you can fully comprehend, he’s already tearing at the material before he tosses it to the side.

“I want you to ride my cock just like this, baby. Forget the camera’s even rolling, I wanna see you getting off in the backseat of my car and I wanna see your pretty face when you’re falling apart from how good my cock fills up your pretty cunt.”

You rock your hips against Seungcheol’s; hands placed on his shoulder as you chase your pleasure.

“You look so pretty like this, angel. So fuckin’ cute when you’re getting what you want.” You moan in response, head thrown back when the head of his cock taps your g-spot.

“So fuckin’ wet for me.” Seungcheol pauses; hands snaking down your body until you feel them on the skin of your ass.

He squeezes your ass as you whine loudly, fingertips teasing at the puckered rim. “Ah, we should’ve brought a toy with us. Bet you would’ve liked both of your needy holes filled, huh?”

“Y-yes, fuck! S--Seungcheol!” You clench around his cock, bouncing in his lap harder when he pulls his fingers away.

“We’ll save it for another time~ Wouldn’t want to rock the car too much, y’know? And I’d want you to be comfortable when you have all your needy ‘lil holes filled, not in the backseat of my car.” He grins at your somewhat disappointed face; feet planted on the floor of the car before he’s thrusting up into you and matching your erratic movements.

“Oh, g-god, it feels s--so good! I, ah, w-wanna cum!” Whimpering, your brows furrow as your hazy eyes meet Seungcheol’s.

“Aww, my sweet angel wants to cum already? So fuckin’ easy. Only a few minutes on my cock and you’re already falling apart?”

When he smirks back at you; there’s a sudden pang of confidence that pours over you and in an instant, you move a free hand up to the column of his throat. You squeeze down slightly, only enough as a warning as he licks his lips at you.

There’s a beat of silence as the two of you stop your movements while you sit perfectly still on his cock.

“Hmm? Gonna choke me to shut me up, baby? Go ahead. Let’s see if you can.” He taunts, hands still on your clothed waist. You start swiveling your hips again, except this time you keep your hand loosely wrapped around his neck; fingertips only just pressing into the sides as he lets out a soft groan in return.

“I bet you’d like it t-too much, ‘Cheol…” He chuckles softly; nodding when he feels his cock throbbing inside of your pussy.

“Not as much as you do.” He starts thrusting up into you again, momentarily making you lose your hold on him when your body jostles from his harsh movements.

“Mmh, gonna cum in your pretty cunt ‘n then I’m gonna make you sit pretty with your fingers keeping my cum inside while I drive us both home. Fuck, bet you’d cum again just from that too. Sitting in the passenger’s seat, fingering my cum deeper into your needy cunt.”

Before Seungcheol can say any more, your other free hand quickly reaches for your discarded, torn panties; shoving them into his parted lips as he lets out a surprised noise around the fabric.

“You, ngh, t-talk too m-much…” You mutter.

Seungcheol can’t help but laugh around the fabric, quickly pulling your hand from around his neck as he swiftly maneuvers you off of his cock to switch your positions.

He presses you down into the backseat as he pistons his hips into you; his hands keeping your legs spread obscenely wide as he fucks you hard and fast.

The car rocks back and forth with his harsh movements and your moans only get louder and louder with each thrust of his hips that has the head of his cock slamming into your g-spot.

“Oh, fuck, fuck, ‘m gonna c-cum!” You feel your walls getting tighter around Seungcheol’s cock and he finds it harder and harder to thrust into you as your body starts to tense with your impending orgasm. He growls around the fabric in his mouth; eyes silently ordering you to cum as his hips start to lose rhythm.

“Ah, S--Seungcheol!”

His name rolls off of your tongue in quick succession until it turns into muddled, broken whines and cries and he fucks you right through your orgasm as he chases his own. He feels his cock throbbing inside of you as your walls flutter around him and he only manages a drawn out groan before he’s unloading all of his cum inside of you; head thrown back as he lets the waves of pleasure wash over his body.

You stare up at him through glassy eyes, chest heaving as you ride out the remnants of your high. “Ngh… gonna, mmh, make a--a mess on the s-seats…” Muttering, it takes a few quiet moments before Seungcheol is slowing down his thrusts to a complete halt but the glimmer in his eyes lets you know he’s not completely done with you just yet.

Seungcheol starts to slowly ease his cock out of you as you groan softly at the emptiness, waiting for the second you close your eyes to blink to make his move.

He takes his chance; pulling the soaked material from inside of his mouth just as the head of his cock is at your entrance and he quickly places the torn panties right where the head of his cock was, just a second ago.

“That was really cute of you, baby.” You breath hitches when you feel his fingers starting to press the material into your spent hole. “Really, really cute.”

Your thighs shake at the feeling of Seungcheol slowly pushing your panties into your cunt; eyes rolling to the back of your head as you let out shaky whimpers. “Oh, fuh--fuck, Seungcheol, mmh!”

“I actually packed a spare pair of panties for you, y’know? I was gonna play nice and eat your pretty ‘lil cunt out instead of letting you sit in cum soaked panties but I guess you had other plans, hmm? Got a little too greedy, perhaps?”

He smirks down at you, watching as your face contorts in unadulterated bliss when he pushes more and more of your panties into your pussy until only a small piece of fabric is left hanging out.

Seungcheol turns to face his phone that’s still recording, plucking it from the holder it’d been in before he flips the camera and films your body instead. He lets it linger on your fucked out expression before he brings it down to your pussy, filming your squirming body as you clench around the fabric keeping Seungcheol’s cum from spilling out of you and onto the backseat.

“Mm, and now you get to sit in the passenger’s seat, your own panties stuffed into your pussy while I drive home. But I bet it feels good, huh? Your needy ‘lil hole plugged up ‘til I can get you home so I can fuck you again. Unless you get really desperate, then I’ll let you take the panties out by yourself and you can finger your cunt and make yourself cum again.”

Goosebumps rise on your skin at his filthy words and you can’t help but bring a shaky hand down, fingertips already on your clit as Seungcheol raises a brow at you.

“You should get to d-driving then, ‘Cheol… Don’t you wanna find out what, ah, I choose?”

He shakes his head as he ends the recording on his phone; tossing the device to the side before he leans over you again.

“You’ve been getting really cocky with me, angel. Something I should know about?”

You blink up at him innocently, lips in a pout. 

“Nope~”

[spiltscribbles]

Hi love!! I just took a look at the prompt lists u have linked and the prompt “you said what to your teacher?” sounds like it could be absolutely hilarious if u wanna write something for that!! <33333

Notes: OMFG HIYA DAN BABEYYYY!!!! Thank you SO SO much you absolute angel face!!! This was the first thing I tried writing and actually enjoyed and just wrote it all at once in the middle of the night dlkfsajlkgjasdofiewghklsdgj THANK YOU AND I LOVE YOU!!!!

.-

You Said What To Your Teacher? | Send Me A Prompt💜

.-

“Do you remember when we were nine and I gave you my last sparkler because Regulus was crying that he wanted your purple smoke bomb and I was left with only my shitty poppers to throw when the ball dropped on New Year’s.”

Sub half way to his mouth and mobile lodged between his shoulder and ear, Sirius gently sets down his sandwich and dabs off the splatter of mayonnaise on his cupids bow as he tries to parse out what in bloody hell his best friend is blabbering on about.

“Oh, hi, Jem. Yeah I’m doing well, mate, thanks for asking. Works the typical grind but I think Minnie is about to give me that promotion any day now.”

“It’s a simple yes, or no answer, arse.” James retorts haughtily, sounding somehow frenzied and buoyant all at once.

“Pardon me, I thought we would just have a normal conversation like typical blokes,” Sirius sniffs, tilting back on his chair and clicking around on his desktop to look at the revised dimensions of a new building his firm was employed to begin constructing in south London. “Now remind me, my sweet. Was this the same New Year’s that you stuffed that stink bomb in the back of my shirt after stomping on it so it’d explode on me?”

“That is neither here, nor there.”

“I still feel the debris on my poor back on especially rough days.”

“You’re a twat.”

“And you’re acting dodgy.”

“I need a favor, and I thought a transactional proposition would be the sort of thing that you corporate types would appreciate.” James jabs, laughter in his words. Sirius just hopes he could picture the middle finger he’s emulating through the line.

“Just because you’ve completed residency doesn’t make you a special snowflake, you do realize this, correct?” Sirius tells him, already shooting a message to Minerva and his team that he’ll be jetting off a bit earlier so he could do whatever it is that James needs.

“Slander! It makes me the most special snowflake, Black. And it eats you up inside.” James retorts, moving away from the receiver to yell something towards one of his interns about a patient or the other.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, gorgeous. Now are you going to ever tell me what it is you need from me, or keep trying to get in my trousers, because listen either option is aces on my end. I’ll just add it to the document I send Lily every week about how I’m so obviously your dream partner.”

“It always just comes back to your burning jealousy that I chose her over you, doesn’t it?” James pretends to sigh forlornly. “Listen, my love. It’s not my fault that some birds are just born prettier than others.”

“Psha, I’m the prettiest fucker you know, Potter.”

“It’s the attitude for me, just absolutely no decorum about you.”

“Is this about that snag with me teaching Haz how to properly curse at a United fan?” Sirius asks, moving to collect his satchel and jacket. “Because I stand by that. We’re a fucking Arsenal family, damn it.”

“We were at brunch when he called that poor woman a weasel faced toad, Sirius.”

“Good man,” Sirius insists, waving goodbye to the secretary who always gives him the most devoted heart eyes.

“Well, speaking of the sprog. I’m stuck here with a new bout of paperwork to get someone transported to us from a hospital in the states, and Lily’s stuck in the maternity ward till at least nine.”

“Ooo, a bit of God father/God son time then??”

“With great power, comes great responsibility,” James says gravely.

“What have I told you about your shitty nerd references and how they give me a rash.”

“Spider-man isn’t simply for nerds you absolute pleb! There’s been three bloody franchisements for him in the past two decades!”

“Imma let Harry eat ice cream for dessert, I reckon.”

“Then you’ll have Lily to answer to,” James warns, still seething from the jibe. “And if you’re taking the bike, can you at least park a block away. This new school we’ve enrolled him into this year is well and proper, and I’d not want them to think that our son’s God father is some sort of ne’er-do-well.”

“You put respect on Rosco’s name, or so help me!”

“Right, right, the only constant love in your life.”

“She’s the only one who understands me.”

“ Whatever, just try and behave decently, will you?”

“Hah, and why wouldn’t I?” Sirius asks as he tosses his helmet into the air, patting Rosco in apology for James’s impertinence.

“Hmm, we’ll see, won’t we.” James says in an irritatingly ominous tone before clicking off the line.

.-

There are a lot of reasons why Sirius could hate James. He could hate him for forcing Sirius to join him on his morning runs, or hate him for his intensely perky attitude about every sodding thing. Hell he could probably hate him for his complete disregard of the mad sport that is American football. But all that withstanding, Sirius reasons that for today he’ll hate him for his cryptic fucking warning and how he knew this would happen and is probably cackling over it as he fills out a new set of discharge papers.

That absolute, unceasing, weasel faced, toad.

The ‘this’ that Sirius is referring to of course is the fact that Sirius is left dumbstruck and gawping as he strolls leisurely into Harry’s third year class, eyes roaming over the small cluster of children who had stayed after hours for extra tutoring and who are now just lounging around, waiting for a guardian to come and pick them up. But instead of first spotting the dark head that belongs to his God son, Sirius’s gaze focusses on a man… A very fit, very golden, very beautiful man. A man that’s all lithe limbs and honey eyes, and a small, quietly encouraging smile as he kneels down to chat with a blonde girl who’s got on a blue tutu and rainbow poncho.

“Fuck you James Potter,” Sirius hisses lowly to himself as he tries to collect his wits about him, and remind himself that flirting with his God son’s actual, fucking professor is not a thing that is approved of.

“Uncle Pads!”

Sirius starts, feeling suddenly grounded as Harry bounds towards him and hugs his torso with a tight squeeze. “Hiya Prongslet,” he says, grinning indulgently as he ruffles a hand through Harry’s wild mop of curls.

“Am I coming to yours then?”

“If you’ll have me,” Sirius winks, tapping the bridge of his specs fondly.

“Brilliant! I’ll just tell Professor Lupin.”

Oh, that’s a very sexy name if Sirius does say so himself, though he tries not to marinate on the fact as he waits patiently while Harry leads that absolutely delicious looking man towards him. And God, the way he’s tipping back his head only slightly to meet Sirius’s gaze— It’s lewd.

“You’re Harry’s God father, yes?” Is the first thing Professor Lupin says to him, stretching out a hand that’s all long fingers stained by ink, and knobby knuckles that Sirius suddenly has the insane craving to nip at.

Jesus, he needs to get himself the fuck together.

“Ahem, yes, yes. I’m that. I’m Sirius I mean— Oh, my name, and erm— I’m also serious that I am his God father, that is a thing.” Sirius rambles, feeling like a complete idiot as he takes hold of Remus’s slender hand into his own, and shakes it with two, awkward pumps— holding onto it for a beat too long.

Sirius repeats, fuck James Potter.

“Right,” Professor Lupin says with something akin to amused. “Well he’s only got his maths to finish tonight, and a bit more reading for history.”

“Oh, good. I’ll definitely help with that. I’m great with numbers.”

“Wonderful,” Professor Lupin nods at him before peering down at Harry and grinning widely. “You did great today, just keep up with your novel for Professor Meadows and you’re splendid. Yeah?”

“Thank you Professor Lupin,” Harry preens, chest puffed out not unlike how James had used to do back in their school days every time they won a footie match.

“Nice meeting you Mr— ah?”

“Black!” Sirius quickly offers, straightening up immediately like a rose bud stretching towards the sun. “Sirius Black.”

The corner of Professor Lupin’s mouth twitches up, and Sirius is struck with the searing need to see the full force of his smile directed towards him— and also to snog it right off. “Remus Lupin, just to make things even.”

And fuck.

Sirius swears— hand on his chest and face to God— that it was a flirtatious inflection that Professor Lupin— Remus— used right then, but before he can even have the chance to toy around with the development, a mother in yoga pants and Starbucks strolls in and Remus walks over to greet her hello, and before Sirius knows it, Harry’s tugging on his hand and dragging him out the room.

Damn it.

.-

Despite his total and complete fail of a first meeting with Harry’s sickeningly attractive professor, the rest of the night turns out to go as perfectly as planned. Otherwise known as them stuffing themselves with greasy pizza, and heaps of ice cream, and staying up an hour past Harry’s typical bed time to play Far Cry instead. And if Sirius contemplates asking him more about this elusive Remus Lupin, he bites down the urge and concentrates on sticking his spoon onto his nose before Harry could beat him in their match.

It’s totally fine.

That is until it’s six o’clock in the ruddy morning and he’s woken up by the loud knocking of his front door, only to be met by the grossly chipper faces of Lily and James— that sort of glow is only a thing that happens after a good shag, and Sirius knows that for fact.

“We brought pasties,” Lily tells him as she sashays indoors, red main of hair billowing in the late autumnal breeze and her voice ringing out like she’s some sort of radio show host.

“How was last night?” James asks him as he toes off his boots and follows Lily to the kitchen.

“Fine,” Sirius gripes, still pissy from James’s cruel joke. “Haz is always great.”

“Mmm, I hope Remus didn’t give you any trouble picking him up, you’re on the paperwork and everything but it’s the first time he ever met you and all.” Lily says, faux lightly as she picks out the plates and turns on the electric kettle.

“You knew!” Sirius accuses emphatically, pointing a heated finger her way and then directing it towards James.

“Knew that he is exactly your type?”

“And that you’d look like a tosser talking to him for the first time,” Lily tacks on, giggling.

“Fuck you, and fuck your weird, married telepathy!”

“Nah, not telepathy mate,” James assures, clapping him on the shoulder. “You’re just incredibly predictable.”

“We’d have to be thick not to know that you’d be a total idiot around him— You’re the worst whenever you have to talk to pretty people who you actually want to do more than just screw.”

Sirius feels himself go scarlet. “That is an attack on my person, Evans!”

“Yes, dear. I know.” Lily croons, patting him on the cheek like a doting grandmother. “But does it help that I think you should totally go for it.”

“Lily! He’s our son’s teacher!”

“Only for this year,” Lily shrugs, sitting on a stool that lines the island. “Besides, I really like Remus. We have the same cycling class and he taught me how to make my face into an emoji like I’m a Kardashian.”

“You guys talk about’m like he’s the second coming of Christ,” James harrumphs, doling out their mugs with a scowl.

“He’s just so pretty,” Sirius sighs, beyond dejected. “Did you see that little birthmark on his cheek that looks like a butterfly! And Jesus, his eyes are like a third of his face!”

“Don’t forget how well he fills out those trousers for such a skinny bloke,” Lily adds, mixing the honey into the tea that James had just poured her.

“I alas did not get a chance to give his ass the appraisal it warrants,” Sirius bemoans.

“I very much do not like the idea that my best friend and wife are thirsting over the same bloke.” James sniffs.

“Jealous, lover,” Lily leers, laughing at how James wrinkles his nose at them and kisses his cheek in reassurance. But Sirius doesn’t pay them any of his attention, is too distracted by painting the picture of Remus in his mind’s eye, and how he really does need a second look if he loves himself at all.

“He’s like those caramel lollypops from when we were kids,” he tells them unceremoniously. “But instead of that tart middle, he’s just sweetness through the center.”

“You want to lick him, huh?” Lily asks, smirking at him with a lecherous air.

“I want to lick him until he goes mad and begs me to just flip’m over and—“

“Enough!” James quickly cuts in with a smack of the hand against the countertop. “This man is Harry’s professor, I can’t have these sort of images of him while I go to pick him up after class.”

Sirius jerks forwards, beyond excited. “Then let me pick up Haz from school today, yeah? It’ll give me a chance to speak with Remus!”

“Why do you want to talk to Mr Lupin?”

The three adults turn around at once, met by the image of Harry in the spare uniform he keeps at Sirius’s house— hair sleep rumpled and specs askew.

“Hallo my beautiful boy,” Lily grins, her and James each kissing his cheek and giving his shoulders a squeeze as he sits between them.

“Why do you want to talk to Professor Lupin, Uncle Sirius.” Harry asks again, earnestly as he tares apart his cheese and veggie pasty. “Do you like him?”

“Oh, erm—“ Sirius feels his insides squirm, not sure where to step, afraid that his God son might not appreciate the fact that Sirius’s already planning out a reception party for his impending nuptials with Remus.

“I think it’d be cool if you did.”

And in an instant, Sirius feels his shoulders loosen and his smile go elastic. God he loves this kid. “yeah?”

“Mhmm,” Harry nods, taking a sip of his water to clear his throat. “Ron told me that Professor Lupin use to be married to his Uncle Fabs and then they broke up last year, so I bet he’s sad now. And you’re the best person on the planet and you always have fun! You should make him happy again.”

Sirius’s heart seizes, suddenly needing to be the person to help Remus with anything he could ever need.

“You’re a diamond kiddo, you know that?” Sirius says, standing up to lift his eight year old God son into the air and blowing a raspberry to his cheek. “Shove it to your dad, you’ll be my best man at the wedding, yeah?”

“Imma need to start smoking if he’s gonna be this much of a prat all the time now,” James mutters lowly, making it so Lily crows with laughter.

.-

That afternoon finds Sirius parked back outside Harry’s school, straightening the collar of his jacket and combing a hand through his hair. Though once he steps into the nearly emptied classroom, he’s still slack jawed when Remus looks over his shoulder towards the door and grins at him in such a glimmering sort of way, that it punches Sirius in the fucking solar plexus!

“Mr Black, twice in one week?”

“Hah— Yeah.” Sirius hopes his smile comes out more gentle than a grimace. “It’s not far from my work, actually. So I guess I’ll be around more often.” In fact, the drive is a good twenty minutes from his office, but Sirius doesn’t think that’s really relevant.

“Lucky us.” Remus retorts, looking up and down his frame with a slow, languid sort of gaze that makes Sirius feel filleted right open. “Well I can’t wait to get to know you better.”

“You can know whatever you want,” Sirius practically sputters, wonders if he should try and act cool, especially now that Harry’s wandered over towards them.

“Is that an open offer?” Remus asks, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth and lying back leisurely against his desk.

“Yes. Yes, absolutely.”

Remus’s beautiful face goes absolutely incandescent right then. “Good.”

“Good,” Sirius repeats, completely devout.

“Oh, before you go,” Remus says, pointer finger raised to freeze them while his other hand fishes into a drawer of his desk. “It’s not a caramel pop, but at least the Tutsi ones are sweet all the way through.”

Sirius feels his jaw completely drop while Remus gently places the stick of the treat into his open hand, tossing him a quick wink before walking off to chat with a new parent who had wandered in.

“Harry— You said what to your teacher.”

“That you said he looked like a caramel pop,” Harry answers, totally owlish and unconcerned.

Sirius contemplates drowning into the lake, but then decides that this is a game he will not lose against Remus.

“All right, Prongslet. Let’s grab us some chocolate eggs and you can tell me everything you know about your dear Professor.”

“Okay, Uncle Pads,” Harry beams.

.-

~My Wolfstar FIC Masterlist💜

[heximagines]

Jealousy pt. 3 | Bo x GN! Reader x Vincent

Here it is! Part 3! Now to just decide who reader ends up with. Hmmm... 

Pt. 1 | Pt. 2

Over the few days that followed your date with Bo, the twin had become increasingly touchy with you. It was becoming a common occurrence for him to press kisses to the top of your head when you walked past, rest his hand on your lower back, or pull you against his side on the couch. Gladly you leaned into every little touch, never noticing the pointed looks Bo would shoot Vincent whenever he was around. However you did notice that you were seeing Vincent less and less. You thought it was because he was busy at first but it had been a while since anyone came into town now.

Bo was at the station today and Vincent was still nowhere to be seen, leaving you alone in the house. You’d watched a movie, cleaned the kitchen, and patched some holes in the old walls but the day always crawled along when you were alone. When noon rolled around you decided to pay Vincent a visit. You fixed him something easy for him to eat for lunch before wrapping up the plate. You chose to take the main road through town on your way to the museum as opposed to going through the tunnels. You loved to stroll through town and admire the brothers’ work, especially when the sun was high in the sky making everything look vibrant and cheery. For just a moment you could pretend that you were a normal person living in a normal town. When you arrived on the steps of the museum you took one more look around before slipping inside. From where you stood you could hear Vincent’s music float up from between the floorboards, gentle and airy. Your lips curled up in a small smile and you took your time to weave through the exhibits, stopping to look at some of your favorite pieces and new ones. You guessed Vincent had been busy, while you didn’t notice any new figures there were more paintings and bits of furniture that hadn’t been there the last time. You paused at a portrait you thought was particularly beautiful. It featured a woman veiled in white, not quite like a bride but angelic. You tilted your head and your fingers itched to reach out and touch it but you held back. Finally you were jarred from your thoughts at the sound of footsteps coming up the hidden stairway in the next room. You turned your head to the door and waited for Vincent to appear. When he did he had another canvas cradled gently in his large hands. He started when he noticed you and fumbled with the piece but quickly regained his composure. “Sorry, Vin. Didn’t mean to scare you.” You gave him a shy smile and held up the plate. “I brought you lunch.”

Vincent had set down his newest creation and the two of you were now sitting on a Victorian style fainting couch he had recently fabricated, your knee just barely brushing his. The newest painting he brought up was very similar to the one you’d been admiring earlier and you motioned towards them. “They’re beautiful Vincent. You’re so talented.” You turned to smile at him, but Vincent wasn’t looking at you. His eye was trained firmly on the plate he was holding in his lap. You turned your whole body towards him and placed a hand on Vincent’s knee, making him jerk away. You yanked your hand back before looking up at him, confused. Sure Vincent was skittish at the best of times but he’d been acting so strange lately. He signed a quick, ‘Sorry, I need to get back to work’  before getting up to retreat back down there he’d come from. You frowned and looked at the painting he’d left abandoned where it sat. Something about it felt a bit familiar but you couldn’t quite place it.

That night when you sat at the dinner table across from Bo Vincent was still nowhere to be seen. You sat with your chin in your palm, pushing the food around your plate too lost in thought to eat. Bo’s hand slid across the table and he coaxed your’s from your chin into his own. “Somethin’ bothering ya sugar?” You gave him a half hearted smile and shrugged. “I don’t know. Do you think Vincent has been acting weird?” Bo scoffed a bit. “He’s probably just busy. He’ll come around.” Your lips twisted into a frown. “No, I don’t think that’s it... Today I went to bring him lunch and-” “Why?” He cut in, making you pause. “Huh?” Bo set his fork down and now he was frowning too. “Why did ya go and bring him lunch?” Your brows draw together and you  shake your head. “I-I don’t know. I just hadn’t seen him in a while. I thought it’d be nice.” Suddenly you were nervous. All the sweetness Bo had shown you was absent now as he pushed away from the table and stood. His chair toppled to the ground as he grabbed his plate and tossed it into the sink, food still on it. “Vincent doesn’t need you to be nice to him. He’s fine.” Slowly you stood and moved across the room to place your hands on Bo’s shoulders, rubbing soothingly. You could see how they relaxed at your touch but the underlying tenseness was still there. “Bo...” He took a deep breath and his fingers, which were gripping the edge of the sink, flexed. You gently pushed on his shoulder, making him turn towards you. “What’s going on in your head?” You combed your hands though Bo’s hair before wrapping your arms around his neck. Instinctively his own hands came to your waist, holding you tightly. “Don’t worry about it okay? And don’t worry none about Vincent. He’s just...” He bobbed his head, trying to find what he wanted to say. “Throwing a damn tantrum.” Your eyebrows shot up. Vincent was never one for outbursts, not even when visitors entered town. He was always calm, calculated. Though you supposed if he were to throw a tantrum as Bo put it this would be the way he’d go about it. “Now why would he be doing that?” He snorted and shook his head. “Because he’s not gettin’ what he wants.” You really hated it when Bo was cryptic, and it happened much more frequently than you’d expect with someone so brash. Finally he kissed your forehead and pulled away. “Just don’t worry okay? He’ll get over it. He’s just gotta.” With that Bo playfully smacked your ass. “How about you go on and relax. I got the dishes.” You weren’t ready to let this go quite yet, but you knew better than to push Bo on a subject he didn’t wanna speak about. So you relented. Besides, you weren’t eager to fish his uneaten food out of the sink anyway.

That night as you laid in bed your thoughts lingered on Vincent. The way he’d jumped away from your touch, like your fingertips scalded him, it made your chest clench uncomfortably. You knew Bo wan’t going to tell you what was up. So you’d just have to find out yourself. Quiet as a mouse you tiptoed out of your room, eyeing Bo’s closed door just across the hall. From outside you could just barely hear his gentle snores, signaling that he was in a deep sleep. You slipped down the stairs and made a beeline for the hidden staircase that would bring you down into the tunnels. When you arrived at the door of Vincent’s workshop you lingered outside, listening to the calming melody of Vivaldi maybe? You weren’t as familiar with classical artists as Vincent. You weren’t sure what you were going to say but you’d already made up your mind. Finally, you knocked softly, so softly you thought he didn’t hear you. You almost turned around and went right back to bed when the door opened an inch. You gave Vincent a shy smile and he opened the door wider. He eyed your face before signing, ‘Y/n, what’s wrong?’ You chuckled and rubbed your cheek. “That obvious huh?” Vincent tilted his head at you before opening the door wider and ushering you into his workspace. Inside it was broiling hot and the molten wax cast an orange glow over everything. Vincent pulled up a comfortable looking chair for you, patting it. You sat down and watched as Vincent moved to lean against his worktable, keeping a physical distance from you.  Anxiously you twiddled your thumbs. “Vincent I’ve been noticing that you’re acting... Well you’re just not around. And I’m just a little worried.” You looked up to watch Vincent. His shoulders hunched over and he seemed to want to look anywhere but at you. Now that you were thinking about it Vincent never avoided your gaze. If he wasn’t staring right back into your eyes while you spoke he was always sitting right in your line of sight, like he wanted you to see him. Now he looked like he wished he could disappear completely. “A-And Bo said that I should just, leave you alone and not bother you. And I don’t want to. Bother you that is. So I’m sorry if I am. I’m just... Worried... Like I said.” You wanted to kick yourself. You really should have figured out what you wanted to say and now you were just rambling on like a moron. Finally Vincent uncrossed hsi arms and lifted his hands. ‘What else did Bo say?’  You bit your lip, Vincent new his brother too well. “He, uh, he thinks you’re just... Upset. And he wouldn’t tell me why.” You phrased it as delicately as possible. Vincent nodded at that seeming to understand something that you just weren’t quite getting at yet. Slowly he came to kneel in frint of you and you smiled just a little. ‘I’m not upset with you. You know that right?’ You only gave a small shrug in response. Vincent exhaled through his nose before standing and crossing the room. He came to stop at his drawing desk, gathering up a sketchbook he flipped though the pages thoughtfully before closing it. He seemed to think for a moment before sighing again. Slowly he walked back over to you. He seemed to be dreading what was going to happen and he looked at you like he was trying to memorize every little detail. As if you were going to disappear. Vincent pulled up his own chair and sat down across from you this time. His fingers flexed around the notebook, similar to how Bo’s flexed when he was anxious. Finally he held the book out to you. You took it from him with care and waited until he nodded before you flipped it open to the first page. Your own image stared back up at you and for a moment you were awestruck. The attention to detail was amazing. As you slowly turned through the pages you could feel Vincent tensing. Until finally you found a familiar sketch. It was one of the new paintings. But now you can see the details underneath the veil he layered over them. It was your own face. Finally you closed the book and met Vincent’s eye. Everything clicked together in your head now and your heart ached for Vincent. “You made me look so... Beautiful.” ‘It’s not hard,’ his hands gestured. You smiled softly before leaning in to hug Vincent tightly. He hesitated for only a moment before pulling you in, practically crushing you in his embrace. You knew Vincent didn’t just fear rejection, he expected it. And Even though he hid it under ego and bravado Bo was exactly the same. You knew you needed to work something out soon but for now you just smoothed your hand over Vincent’s back and let him hold you until he was ready to let go.

[sgtjbbhasmyheart]

Drunk Texting Is(n’t) Bad for Your Health- Chapter Two

Series Summary: Talk about your unconventional meet-cute! Bucky receives a text by mistake requesting he prove he's not Reader's sister. The easy dialogue between Reader and Bucky sparks a natural friendship, but could it lead to more? Bucky still deems himself unworthy of any form of affection or love. Reader is hellbent to prove him wrong. With the help of some (meddling) friends along the way, Bucky may get his happily-ever-after after all.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word count: 2921

Warnings: bad language words, blink and you’ll miss the angst, just some fluff

A/N: divider credit- @firefly-graphics

DO NOT copy or replicate without my permission

You awoke with a start, feeling as if you were late for work or something important and forgot to set your alarm. Your heart beat an erratic tattoo against your ribcage. Scrambling for your cell phone, you blindly reached across the side table near your bed in a panic. Unplugging the phone, you brought the device an ungodly closeness to your face. It was only 6:17. On Saturday.

Your pulse throbbed behind your eyeballs, and a strange stickiness coated the inside of your mouth. Did you drink that much last night?

How could you not? Timmons was a fair boss, and you enjoyed your job, but that dude loved the sound of his own voice.

The quarterly business dinners were mandatory for all employees, even for the P.A.s. Typically, they weren’t so bad, but last night, Timmons felt the need to toot his own horn for landing a massive contract with Stark Industries slash The Avengers. He went on and on about how great it was for the firm.

He was like a giant kid in a candy store with his ramblings. ‘We will be promoting the face of The Avengers and everything that goes with it,’ he spouted off like the firm was god’s gift to public relations.

You groaned at the reminder of last night’s presentation. The contract wasn’t even in effect yet, and you were sick of the Earth’s Mightiest Heroes. Timmons could be a real buzz kill.

Rolling to your back, you brought your phone up to tap the screen to read the emails you received overnight. On display was a text from 11:04 by someone named James. It read: “Goodnight, (Y/N).”

Your mind went back to last night again, trying to recall who this James was. He must be significant if you plugged his contact information into your phone already. Had you met someone last night?

Drawing a blank, you clicked on the text bubble to pull up the thread. Briefly scanning through the numerous texts, everything came rushing back. In an attempt to text your sister, Robyn, you mistakenly texted this mysterious, James.

You felt like an utter buffoon when you learned he wasn’t Robyn. You always did have a way with the cute boys. Probably why you were single. You groaned out loud as you read on.

You im safely inside my apartment. Pretty sure no one followed me home

James Did you triple check the lock on the front door?

You yes dad yeesh

James There are a lot of bad people out there. Just want to make sure you’re safe.

You sounds like you watch the news too much but its sweet of u to care

James I know from experience.

You r u the bad guy or have u been the one mugged?

James Let’s just say I have friends that have dealt with the bad things of the world.

You right i almost forgot ur a military-trained assassin athlete mchottie

James Did you ever send your sister a text?

You shit thanks for reminding me i have such a crazy story to tell her

James Only good things, I hope.

You oh yeah all the good things an enigmatic yet handsome stranger cares more about my safety than any of my ex-boyfriends ever did.

James My ma raised me right.

You id say

James_ I hate to cut this short, but I think you need your rest. Especially if you’re meeting your sister tomorrow._

You i dont want to agree but ur probably right

You whats ur name btw?

James My name? Why? Do you plan to continue texting me after tonight?

You duh ur fun to talk to

James Oh.

You or not its cool if u dont want to

James It’s James.

You nice to meet u james im (y/n)

James Nice to meet you as well.

You my sister just texted me back and were still meeting at 9 i should go 

You goodnite james

James Goodnight, (Y/N).

Oh. My. God. Had you seriously drunk-flirted with a stranger and offered to keep texting him? You had no shame with a few drinks in you.

You brought a hand up to pinch the bridge of your nose and sighed loudly.

What did you know of this James? He had a New York area phone number. Check. He could have been a real dick about your mistake but wasn’t. Understanding. Check. He worried about you getting home safely in your inebriated state. Caring. Check. Not too forthcoming with the nine to five. Secretive. Check. His mouth looked so soft and plush, and his eyes were made to drown in. Gorgeous. Check.

A heat simmered beneath your skin as you recounted the shortlist you’d made. Were you lusting over someone you’d exchanged less than forty texts with? Had you somehow woken back up in high school?

Shaking your head to clear your thoughts, you stared at the screen displaying the message thread. Were you really considering this? You nodded your head to answer your own question. Where was the harm in a little shameless flirting? If worse came to worst, you could always block him.

With your mind made up, you began typing into your phone, constructing an apology.

You Good morning! First off, I want to apologize for the way I behaved over text last night.

You Though, I do like to imbibe in the occasional drink or two, I am, by no means, a lush.

You Please take everything I said with a grain of salt. Apparently, I get loose-lipped and cheeky with free wine. 😐

You Again, I’m sorry and understand if you wanted to cease our correspondence for my behavior.

You blew out a breath and tossed your phone aside. It was up to fate now and a stranger named James.

You laid in your bed for several minutes staring at the ceiling, contemplating between whether to send a ‘haha just kidding’ text and what the weather would be like, so you could forego shaving your legs in the shower today.

Your phone chimed during the pondering of hair removal, indicating a new text. You knew it was James proclaiming you a freak and to forget his number, but secretly, you hoped it was Robyn canceling today.

Seizing the phone from your mattress top, your heart’s beat increased with each second you went without looking at the screen. Finding the courage, you flipped the device over to read the message.

James Quite the formal apology, Ms. Professor.

You smiled at the text. It didn’t tell you to pound sand or eat shit. No, it was teasing and in jest. You sighed in relief.

You Cease our correspondence too much?

James No, no it was perfect if this was 1863, and you were breaking up with me via telegraph.

You Stop!

James Exactly! ‘Never speak to me again!’ Stop. ‘It’s not you, it’s me.’ Stop.

A belly laugh disrupted the tranquil air of your bedroom. You quickly thumbed out a reply once you caught your breath.

You You’re incorrigible.

James I’m glad to see you are using proper capitalization and punctuation this morning.

You Ha!

You When you are buzzed and/or tipsy, capitals and periods be damned. Like you’re so perfect when you’re drunk.

James We all have our flaws.

Was he implying he was a sloppy texter when drunk, too? You shrugged it off as him being cryptic again.

You What are you doing up so early on a Saturday? I didn’t wake you, did I?

You were suddenly stricken with guilt. You should have waited for a more reasonable hour to send out rapid-fire apology texts. Not at 6:36 in the morning. You didn’t want last night’s behavior hanging over you, though. Better to clear the air now than later. You could always ask for forgiveness again if you had disturbed his sleep.

James I had just gotten back from my run when I saw your texts. I have training this morning.

You Oh, right. For your hush-hush, super top secret mission/quidditch game.

You You ever gonna tell me what you really do?

James_ Maybe. Someday._

How far away was someday? Was he planning to text you until you both died or until he got bored? How did texting relationships even work?

You Or is it one of those situations where if you told me you’d have to kill me?

James 😈

You There you go again--being all mysterious.

James Keep ‘em guessing and coming back for more.

You Has that strategy worked well for you in the past?

James Got you to text me again this morning, didn’t it?

You scoffed at what he had suggested. He was correct, but your stubborn streak would deny everything.

You The only reason I texted you this morning was to apologize for acting like a drunken fool last night.

And to squash the curiosity burning in your veins. But he didn’t need to know that.

James Oh.

The reply caused you to furrow your brow and your stomach to drop. You regretted not adding more levity to your last text. Of course, it wasn’t the only reason you were drawn to him.

You I appreciate that the selfie you sent wasn’t a dick pic. And you genuinely seemed to care about me getting home safely. Thank you.

You And maybe- a teeny, tiny bit- is honestly interested in getting to know you better.

You waited on pins and needles for his text, watching the pulsing ellipsis on your screen. Was he just humoring you?

James Hook. Line. Sinker.

Reading his response generated a flush from your jaw to your hairline. You growled in embarrassment. You fell for the oldest trick in the book. He baited you for a compassionate answer, and you delivered beautifully. Hook, line, and sinker, indeed.

You You’re an ass. I take everything back.

James Don’t be mad. I wasn’t sure how it was going to go, but you played into my trap wonderfully.

James If it makes you feel any better, all kidding aside, I want to get to know you better too.

James I fell asleep with a smile on my face last night and woke up with one this morning.

James Because of you, (Y/N).

A flutter broke apart in your chest. You hadn’t time-traveled back to high school; no, this was junior high territory.

You You’re lucky you’re so damn charming, James.

James Doll, you have no idea.

The subway ride into Manhattan usually gave you the chance to get a little reading in since it took nearly fifty minutes from Queens. Not today, though. You spent the entirety of the train ride texting back and forth with James. It was mundane stuff, but you were getting a grasp of who James was as a person.

You Favorite color?

James Black. You?

You Blue.

You Favorite ice cream flavor?

James Chocolate. Yours?

You Ben & Jerry’s Cherry Garcia.

James I didn’t realize we were getting specific.

You We weren’t, but that’s my favorite.

You Favorite movie?

James I like the classics- The Wizard of Oz, It’s A Wonderful Life, Frankenstein.

You I have too many to list, so don’t ask.

You Okay. Lightning round because I’m almost to my stop.

James Where are you going again?

You paused your reply for a brief second, wondering if you should divulge your destination. You’d known James less than twenty-four hours; although, it felt like weeks after this morning. Where was the harm in telling him where you were meeting your sister? There were nearly nine million people in this city. There was no way you’d ever bump into each other.

You A bakery in the Upper East Side called Two Little Red Hens. Ever been?

James Don’t think I have.

You Well, since you like chocolate, they have a fantastic cake called Brooklyn Blackout. Super rich but delicious.

James Sounds right up my alley.

You Cats or dogs?

James I’m gone too much, so cats.

The answer piqued your interest. Maybe he was an athlete. Wouldn’t it be practice and not training, though? Or he’s FBI or CIA.

You Socks on or off for sleeping?

James Off.

You Silver or gold?

James Silver.

You Morning, noon, or night?

James Night.

You How do you take your coffee?

James Room for sugar and creamer.

You Boxers or briefs?

James Boxer briefs.

You laughed out loud, looking around the subway car to see if anyone was paying attention to you. Per usual, they weren’t.

You Touché.

As soon as the train stopped, you gathered your purse close to your body and made for the exit. You followed the crowd of fellow passengers through the turnstile and ascended the stairs onto street level.

The morning sunlight caressed your skin like a warm blanket. The humidity wasn’t too bad, yet, but the threat of afternoon thunderstorms still hung in the air.

Even with the reasonably early hour, the sidewalk was stuffed with people, carrying to-go coffee cups or shopping bags. You fought for your little spot of real estate on the grimy concrete.

Stopping at a red traffic light, waiting to cross, you typed out another question for James.

You Pineapple on pizza--yay or nay?

The light changed as you finished, and the throng of pedestrians around you guided you across the street. You spotted Robyn outside the bakery as your phone dinged with a new text alert.

“Wow, I’m surprised you made it on time,” Robyn said as you hugged hello.

You looked at the clock on your phone. 8:58. “You and me both, sister.” Glancing back at your phone’s screen, you giggled.

James What kind of monster puts pineapple on their pizza??

“What’s so funny?” Robyn asked as you accompanied her through the bakery’s door.

With a grin on your face, you punched out a quick reply:

You Well, it was nice knowing you, James. It was a swell friendship while it lasted--a whole 11 ½ hours.

Robyn elbowed you softly in the ribs with a look on her face, seeking an explanation.

“Ow,” you grunted. “What?”

“You tell me. I half expected a zombie to walk through the doors today after your text last night. Not Suzie Sunshine.”

You both edged closer to the counter as the line in front of you dwindled.

James Say it ain’t so, doll! Pineapple on pizza? Really??

You let out a low chortle as you skimmed the text. You glimpsed up at Robyn as you shuffled forward in line again. “Believe me, I’m pretty hungover,” you replied, shoving your phone in your back pocket. “It’s a funny story. I’ll tell you everything when we sit.”

Robyn stared at you warily, still trying to figure out what had come over you. “Okay,” she conceded, stepping to the register to order.

With each of you supplied with an iced coffee and a peach ginger scone, you found an empty table by a window along 2nd Avenue and proceeded to tell Robyn about James.

When you stopped to catch your breath, remembering the whirlwind the last twelve hours had been, you peered at your sister for her reaction.

She stared at you like you’d grown a second head. She shook her head in disbelief. “(Y/N), what where you thinking?”

Your brow pinched in confusion. Was she actually scolding you? You crossed your arms over your chest. “I was thinking about how my big sister is always telling me to meet new people and how it’s time I thought about settling down.”

“Not like this it’s not,” she hissed. “This is how your body parts end up in someone’s freezer!”

You choked on the piece of scone you shoved in your mouth before she started ridiculing you. After coughing to clear your airway and taking a sip of your iced coffee, you leered at Robyn. “Oh, my god! Dramatic much? Have you been binge-watching Dateline again? Jesus Christ, Robyn, he’s harmless,” you countered.

“You think you’ll be so careful, but you’ll let one little detail slip, and he’ll find you,” Robyn said before taking a pull from her coffee.

“You mean, like, how I was meeting you at Two Little Red Hens at nine o’clock?”

Robyn’s mouth popped open in an O. “What the hell, (Y/N)?” she stage-whispered. “Are you trying to get yourself kidnapped and sold into sex trafficking?”

“Please,” you drew out in one long syllable. “He doesn’t know what I look like. How would he snatch me?”

“He could look you up on Facebook.”

“Without a last name?” You shook your head, no.

“What about a reverse search on your number?” Robyn asked, pushing the plate holding her scone away. “That’s a thing.”

“Perhaps, but it seems like a lot of effort for a mistake I made. It wasn’t like he was seeking me or anyone else out.”

Robyn huffed out a breath and folded her arms in exasperation. Always the protective big sister. You could tell you were breaking her down, though.

“C’ mon, Robbie. It’s all in innocent fun. I’m not saying I’m hoping he’ll turn out to be Mr. Right, but the banter is fun,” you remarked. “James is charming and witty and nice to talk to.”

Robyn shook her head once more, frowning. “I hope you know what you’re doing.”

You reached across the table for her hand and squeezed gently. “Me too.” You smiled slyly, remembering last night’s dinner and Timmons gushing about The Avengers. “If not, I know how to get ahold of a couple of centenarians who know chivalry isn’t dead.”

Chapter One | Chapter Three

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[inkedtae]

golden gills ⇾ jjk. [M]

𝓅𝒶𝒾𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔 ⇾ goldfish!hybrid jungkook x bratty!reader (f.)

𝑔𝑒𝓃𝓇𝑒 ⇾ e2l, smut with a sprinkle of fluff and a waterfall of filth 

𝓈𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎 ⇾ Reader taunts Jungkook for being the new Teacher’s Assistant for her history class. She simply can’t stand a teacher’s pet. Jungkook can’t help but make her one. 

𝓌𝑜𝓇𝒹 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓃𝓉 ⇾ 7k

𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈 ⇾ a shit ton of flith, hate-love sex, office sex, super bratty reader, thigh riding, hair pulling, spit play, pube play, panty sniffing, a tad bit of edging, oral (f. receiving), dom!jk, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), lots of spanking, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, pet names, a dash of puns here and there, lowkey crack, probs gonna need some (un)holy water.

𝒶𝓊𝓉𝒽𝑜𝓇'𝓈 𝓃𝑜𝓉𝑒 ⇾ extremely unedited. please do not leave hate towards me or any other readers. please do not copy, repost, or translate any of my work without my permission. currently on a kookie kick so get ready for some filthy (and occasionally fluffy) kookie content. if you have any request, please send them my way (i might consider another member). enjoy!

><> le playlist 

He strut into class, a little notebook clutched in his large hands. You couldn’t help but notice how his veins popped out. Was he flexing or was that just simply always the state of his hands. His sharp nails, tips tinged orange, dug into the leather binding of the notebook while he spoke with your professor. You glared at him from your seat at the front. He must’ve felt the heat of your gaze as he rubbed the nape of his, looking over at you. 

There, right there was the reason why you hate that man so much. That shit-eating smirk tugged on his pink lips, brownish-yellow eyes flickering between you and the professor. An annoyed sigh escaped you. He was too cocky for his own good. He may have radiated golden rays wherever he went. The yellowish-orange tint of his hair layered with strands of pink was undeniably eye-catching. You figured that if he was full fish and not just a hybrid, then that might be the colour of his scales. But, when that golden image was paired with his arrogant personality, you reminded yourself as your eyes bounced up and down his frame, he was insufferable.

Despite the golden hues of his species, Jungkook felt most comfortable in black. It was a trend you noticed immediately on him. His flowy, golden fin would stick out his shirt, lined along his spine, and tiny golden gills would rest in the hollows of his cheeks but he would only wear black. You hated how you knew that he only liked to wear loose fitted clothing because it looked great on him. It was all he wore so how could you not notice it, you tried to reason. That fact didn’t soothe your rage one bit, however, since it meant that you indirectly admitted to yourself that he always looked good. 

That man is dangerous, you thought to yourself before turning back to your notes. You didn’t have much to write just yet, but you weren’t going to waste your last moments before class staring at Jeon Jungkook. You opted for doodling, gently scratching your orange pen within the margins.

“How come whenever I walk in I always catch you staring?” He asked, sitting a couple of seats to your right. 

“Glaring,” you correct, not bothering to look up. 

He chuckles to himself, the breathy sound confusing your heart and stunting your rage for a minute. “You’re giving me your attention either way, hun,” he replied. “And I barely had to do a thing.”

You stopped mid-stroke, looking up at him with that same glare before your eyes scanned across the classroom. You noticed empty seats peppered between others who were lucky enough to enjoy some peace before the lesson began.  “There are other seats,” you muttered, turning back to your notebook. 

Jungkook leaned back in his chair, tossing his notebook down on the table with a light thud. “I like this one,” he sighed as he pulled out a black pen from his pants. “I can see everything from here, and everyone can see me.”

You furrowed your brows at his words. What a cocky little shit; always needing to be the center of attention. “You’re an idiot,” you hissed, making the mistake of looking up at him again. 

He met your annoyed gaze with a playful glint in his eyes. He had his tongue poking at his cheek, and a single brow raised as if asking if you truly meant that, as if warning you to try again. “Am I?” he challenged. “Or are you too busy concerned with me to realize how wrong that statement was?”

Your face scrunched with confusion as you tried your best to decipher his words.Why did he have to be so cryptic? Why couldn’t he just tell you what the hell he meant? Giving up, you were about to tell him how stupid he sounded when the professor began his lecture. 

He welcomed the class, introduced himself and went over the course syllabus before turning to look at Jungkook. “And, if you have any other questions, please feel free to contact me or my TA this semester, Jungkook.” He then gestured for Jungkook to stand. 

Fuck no. 

Your face fell as he rose from his seat. Before he could even catch a glimpse of your pure shock and devastation, you schooled your features and looked back towards your professor. It all began to click now, why he spoke with the professor before class and why he sat at the front. He even tried to warn you, in his own stupid, idiotic, cryptic way. Did you really insult your TA? He was going to be grading your work for the next four months. You wanted to believe Jungkook wasn’t a total asshole but with the way he taunted you with that look in his eyes before the lecture started gave you pause. 

Your face must’ve been revealing bits and pieces of your panic, despite your efforts, because you soon heard little breathy chuckles to your right. “Relax, hun. I won’t let it affect your final grade,” he whispered as the professor dived into his lecture. “This time.”

That little shit. 

You had written your essay two weeks prior to the due date, which is a lot coming from you since you’re more of a pull an all-nighter the night before kind of girl. You had researched thoroughly about the topic provided, giving your own analysis on the wars and political practises of the West. You even quoted Karl Marx a few times, and this little shit only just passed you? You had an average to maintain and you knew your paper was not merely worth a passing grade. You even had your best friend, Namjoon, read it over and approve of the analysis, citations and writing style. 

So the moment his office hours were available you made your way over. They were running during another one of your classes but fuck him if he thought you were going to let this slide. You weren’t sure what he was thinking but if this was all some power play, you were about to show him who the fuck was in charge. 

“Jeon, you motherfucker,” you huffed in a way of greeting as you walked into his office. 

Jungkook peeked up at you from his bowl, noodles hanging out of mouth. His eyes were a bit wider, cheeks puffed all too cutely as they were filled with food. He finished slurping his noodles as you shut the door. Though still completely furious, you couldn’t bring yourself to stop staring at his mouth. Something about those pouty, spice stained lips lit up your core and caused arousal to pool into your panties. 

You let out a shaky breath, seating yourself across his desk as he pushed his meal away, directing his full attention on you. He sat back in his seat, that stupid smirk over taking his features. 

“Yes?” He practically purred his response causing you to shift uncomfortably in your seat. 

You tossed your graded paper on his desk, eyes unforgivingly boring into his. “What the fuck is this?” You asked in a calmer voice, but the anger was still ponet in your tone. 

“You’re crappy paper I had the misfortune of reading,” he answered casually, like you just asked him about his day. 

The original fire in your eyes, you somehow were able to maintain since entering this office, dimmed into disappointment. Was it really that bad? But, you worked on it relentlessly. You had at least hoped it would pique his interest. Even Namjoon told you the approach you took was unique and well-thought out. For Jungkook to say it was a misfortune to read wasn’t just a shot at your grade but a blow to your intelligence, your pride. 

He must’ve noticed your change in demeanor as he sat up and sighed. He picked it up to look over it once again, but you ripped it out of his hand, crumpling it with, what you hated to recognize as, shame. “Don’t do me any favours, Jeon,” you all but warned through gritted teeth. “The grade speaks for itself. I can’t believe I thought someone as stupid as you would be able to understand something as layered and complex as this paper. The only thing crappy about any of this is the fact that I have a useless TA.”

Jungkook watched you with an unwavering gaze. “Watch your tone,” he grumbled, voice carrying more edge than those words ever did. 

You’ll admit, it stunted you for a moment, but the pain still lingered. You released the creased assignment on his desk lazily, treating it like the afterthought he believed it was. “Or what?” You taunted, tilting your head slightly. “You’ll fail me?” Your voice dipped in and out of feigned sadness, sarcasm dripping with every word. “You’ll go tell your precious professor? Hmm, little pet?”

Jungkook shifted in his seat, inhaling sharply from his nose before standing up. Even from across the desk, he towered over you. “Behave, (Y/N),” he warned, poking at his cheek with his tongue. 

His words meant nothing. You ignored the inner voice that reminded you that your behaviour was only getting this bad because his words actually meant more than you even wanted to acknowledge. 

“You’re just a useless pet, a stupid little goldfish trying so desperately to look tough in those all black clothes,” you pressed on, gesturing to his shirt that sat atop his chest and biceps all too well. He circled around the desk as you continued, “you can’t even get me to treat you with respect. Better yet, I bet you can’t even get me off. You’re that fucking useless.” 

How or why that sexual sentence slipped in was beyond you. You didn’t really have much time to think about anything, your mouth running on its own and leaving your mind to catch up. All you could see is him, him and those orange hues that lit around his muscular frame like a halo. You noticed him avoiding your gaze and you couldn’t help the teasing giggle that left your lips. 

A brow quirked up as he looked at you through his lashes. You only just realized that they were tipped with bits of gold. “There’s nothing you can do,” you said, standing up for the sole purpose of leaning in and whispering, “little pet.”

Those two words triggered something dark inside him. He groaned out, in frustration or excitement - you weren’t sure, and crashed his lips into yours. You wished you could say you resisted at first, but you were melting into his touch immediately. All logic left you and the only thing you can recall from that moment was another rush of lust and desire soaking your panties. You knew you lost your better judgement when you shamelessly moaned into the kiss at the fact that his lips tasted like freshwater and whatever flavour of spicy noodles he was previously eating.  

A rough hand tangled in your hair, tugging on it to pull you off his lips. You whined at the lost contact, surprising even yourself. You only caught a glimpse of his hooded eyes before he latched his lips onto your neck, setting fire to every inch of skin his mouth graced. Those eyes of his held a degree of rage and lusty fury all while little flicks of orange and gold swam within them. Had they always been like that? You never really got time to think about it before Jungkook bit at your flesh, unforgivingly nibbling and tugging only to slobber sweet kisses to soothe the sting. 

Your hands clutched onto his shirt, desperate to recompose even an ounce of your dignity. As if he knew what you were up to, his chuckled, warm breath fanning your skin, prickling you all over with goosebumps. Your thighs pressed together tightly at the sensation, and you were thankful you opted for a skirt rather than jeans this morning, knowing very well that there would’ve been a wet stain near your crotch. 

Jungkook inhaled deeply, parting from your neck to lick the shell of your ear. “You always smell so fucking sexy when you’re horny for me,” he raved. 

“I’m never horny for you,” your pride answered all too quickly. You wanted to add that he was mediocre at best right now, no matter how big of a lie that was too, but couldn’t find the courage after he bit harshly on your collar bone then lapped his tongue over the sting. 

“Don’t lie, pet,” he warned, smugly throwing your word back at you. 

“I’m not your pe- shit!” You gasped when his lips landed on the shallow hollow of your collar bone. You tugged on his shirt once more, tilting your head back as he began to attack it. His kisses were absolutely sinful and you found yourself wanting them all over you as you rolled your hips into his.

Once he was satisfied with the dark mark he left, he slightly pulled back. He opted for moving you around by the grip he had on your hair. It earned him little blissful whines from you that he couldn’t help but laugh at. He yanked your body closer to his chest, your hands now resting on his shoulders as you somehow positioned your crotch over one of his thighs and quickly, shamelessly moved against it. Your actions surprised you as well; you didn’t realize you were this hot for him.

“What were you saying before, my precious pet?” He teased, hovering his pouty lips over yours. His free hand rested upon your ass, gripping and kneading the flesh like he was coaxing the answer out of you. 

You bit your lip in denial of making a single sound. The notion wasn’t lost on him and he used his grip on your ass to halt your movements on his thigh. While you struggled to defy his silent orders, he held your body flush against his, keeping your clothed pussy trapped over his thigh with a single hand. You could feel his semi-hard against your lower belly as he smirked down at you. Had you not been in his grasp or too stubborn, you would’ve smacked that smirk off… with your lips. 

Jungkook yanked at your hair so that you were looking up at him with lips slightly parted and eyes undoubtedly desperate. That was the thing with your eyes; you could never hide your true feelings from them. 

His hot breath fanned over your chin as he muttered, “What happened to those cute little sounds, pet?” It took the last ounce of self control left in you to not to moan at his words. He continued to stare at you for a moment, admiring how, though you’re trying so hard not to show it, needy you were. 

“Open your mouth, baby,” he cooed. 

His voice was gentle enough for you to immediately comply. You parted your lips, looking up at him innocently. Though you knew what was coming next, your pussy clenching around nothing out of mere excitement, you did not pull away. In fact, you stuck your tongue out as he hovered his lips over yours and spat a stringy dollop of saliva into your mouth. It didn’t taste fishy at all, but simply, what you recognized as, him. You gazed into his eyes with lust-charged hate as you swallowed it without a second though. 

He smiled, satisfied, and released your hair to let his hand slide down to your other asscheeks, moving both hands under your skirt now. A little hiss left him as he felt your wetness reach the back of your panties too. “You really are this horny for me, aren’t you, baby?” He questioned as he guided your clothed pusssy against his thigh once more. 

“N-none of this is for you,” you stuttered. You tried to sound annoyed but the little moan in your tone hinted otherwise. 

He nudged his nose on yours, mannerisms shockingly softer than his grips on your ass. “Want another?” He raised a brow. 

When you remained silent, not wanting to admit that you most definitely wanted another wad of his spit in your mouth, he laughed. The corner of his wondrous eyes crinkled and he threw his head back, laughing at your silence. When his gaze met yours again, he bit his lip to subside the rest of his laughter, taking note of your furrowed brows and pouty lips. 

Jungkook seemed to like the challenges you were offering. He slightly tilted his head, eyes suddenly seeming unreadable. It wasn’t like you were paying much attention to his logic anyway, yours long gone by now. No, you were focused on the pleasure, the built up arousal twisting in your lower belly just desperate to be released. You knew your pussy wasn’t usually that sensitive, sometimes finding that you needed to tug on your skin to really get yourself off. But, holy fuck- 

“Jungkook!” You whined all too loudly as he flexed his thigh beneath you. 

“Hmm,” he hummed, tone reaching dangerously cocky levels. You loved it. 

Meek moans and whines poured out of your lips, like his name was the damn that held them back. Your grip on his shirt was sure to leave creases now, as you looked up at him, holding his gaze while you got yourself. You were passed pride now, ready to admit to yourself that you wanted to stare into those golden-brown eyes because, fuck, the simple sight was enough to make you cum.

Jungkook knew it. He knew you were close and squeezed your ass to let you know that. “Does my pretty pet wanna cum?” He lazily asked. The indifference in his tone was strangely enough to make you a slut for him; as if you weren’t already. 

You couldn’t give him the satisfaction, however. You were far too stubborn for that. Breaking your gaze, you threw your head back and shut your eyes. The pleasure was all you wanted to focus on as you got so fucking clo-

“No!” The cry tore from your throat, breaking as it fell from your lips. He took advantage of the grip he had on your ass once more, trapping your pussy on his flexed, muscular thigh. 

“Open,” he ordered.

You glared at him, sticking your tongue out with a huff. He spat another wad in your mouth, smacking your ass as you swallowed. The force jolted your body closer against his, now completely flush against his chest. Fuck, that chest. So strong and firm. You ran your hands up and down his pecs as he spoke. 

“You close your eyes again, and I’ll have you on your knees,” he threatened. You moaned at his words, earned a quirk of his brow. “Fuck, baby, you’re such a slut for me.” 

“When are you going to tell off that shirt?” You asked, the helplessness in your voice surprising you.

“When you ask nicely,” he teased, bringing his hand back down on your ass.

You leaned back just enough to tug on the hem of the loose shirt. He looked at you expectedly, actually believing you’d ask. A smirk found its way on your lips as your hands snuck beneath the cotton to rub up and down his skin. His breath hitched a bit at the contact, making you silently giggle to yourself. It was nice to know you weren’t the only one coming undone to soft touches. 

He kept your hips locked in place, but began to move his thigh under you. You gasped feeling the pleasure build itself back up in your lower belly. Digging your nails gently into his skin, you scratched at his nipples. It seemed you were both rewarding the other for a tease well done as he returned the blissful gesture by quickening the pace of his thigh. 

“J-Jungkook,” you whined, slowly bringing his shirt up higher and higher. His hands left your ass long enough for you to pull his shirt off and you took it as a sign to also be allowed to move again.

Giddy giggles left you as you got what you wanted and more, and you barely had to play nice at all. He was too consumed with getting you off to care, or so you thought. His hands came down on your ass with a force your pussy couldn’t ignore and you were sent into your first orgasm of the hour. 

Jungkook chuckled to himself, watching your jaw clench as high-pitched squeals escaped you and your pussy released all over his pants. The wet mess emitted filthy, slouchy sounds, further imprinting the fabric and filling the space between you two wonderfully. You held his gaze all the same, riding out your high as your nails dug into his pecs. He hissed at the sensation but did nothing to stop it. 

Your rapid rolls over his thigh stuttered against the friction, the pleasure starting to become too much for you. You halted your movement and quivered the last bits of our orgasm out. He peppered your face with little kisses all throughout, and you let him, whimpering for more. 

Jungkook pulled back at your sounds just to flash you a smug smile. He helped you off him, standing you up again. You bit your lip to keep from whining at the loss of contact. Though you did get your release, you were hoping for more. Your eyes, too obviously, flickered between his abs and the bulge in his pants. 

“If you want more, little pet, you’re going to have to strip for me,” he informed you. Jungkook held your fucked out gaze as he swiped a finger over the drenched spot of his pants to scoop up some of your release. You swallowed thickly at the action, watching as he sucked your cum off his finger. 

“You’re going to have to ask nicely,” you all but whine as his adam’s apple bobbed. 

His once playful teasing eyes seemed to be getting annoyed. The softness within them switched into something a bit darker. He was done with playing, and it only made you want to play with him even more. 

“I’m waitin- ah,” you gasped as he ripped the buttons off your thin, tight sweater off, exposing that yellow bra of yours that cupped your tits all too well. 

Jungkook towered his slender frame over you. “I don’t have to do anything,” he whispered, hovering his lips over yours. “Strip, little pet.”

You pulled your sweater off. A part of you wanted to reach up and just kiss him again. He was so close you could feel his breath against your parted lips. But, you knew better than to fully challenge that dangerous look in his eye. Your skirt was pushed down next, but you kept your panties on, slightly too embarrassed by the fact that they were sticking to your pussy. Reaching back behind you, you fumbled to unclasp your bra. Jungkook remained silent as he reached a single hand back there and undid it easily. 

You thought it must have regained his composure, the thought slightly pissing you off since you were becoming more and more of a mess by the second. But, the moment your bra fell, he attacked your breasts, burying his face between them. His lips latched onto one of your nipples, tonguing, biting, sucking away at it. One of his hands rested on your hip to keep you steady, while his other gripped at your other tit, massaging the fuck out of it. 

Your hands were lost somewhere in his orange-yellow hair, tugging at the long strands. You moaned his name repeatedly. Shameless and horny, you were loving his attention. “Oh, god, just fuck me,” you sighed. 

He hummed against your nipple. “In a minute, babe,” he muttered between alternating tits, now latching his lips onto your other nipple. 

From his slightly bent over position, you could see his fin lined along his spine. You wondered how it looked in the water, if it flowed within the waves like it did out of them. A hand reached over, gently grazing the ripped, but soft fin with the tips of your fingers. He shuddered against your touch, rolling his shoulders back but didn’t stop his tongue’s attack on your tits. 

You whimpered against him, lightly scratching his scalp with one hand and rubbed up his fin with the other. “Jungkook,” you breathed. You were desperate, needy and in total need of another orgasm. And that was what you kept telling yourself as you stuttered, “p-please, kookie.”

Jungkook froze, mid-suck and looked up at you slowly. “My, my,” he smirked, abandoning your tits and straightening up to his full height once again. Your hand on his fin slid up to his shoulder once more, an action that disappointed him too, his eyes flashing something too needy to be masked by his cocky demeanor. “Begging already, baby?”

You pressed your thighs together, granting yourself the smidgen of friction he was hell-bent on denying you. “That was barely a beg,” you scoffed. 

He shook his head at your words. “Shall we change that?” He lifted your hips before you could even respond and placed you on his desk. You were surprised he could lift you being that you were a grown ass woman and all. 

He spread your legs, groaning quietly to himself at the sight of your cum slick thighs and sticky panties clinging to your folds. Placing a hand to his forehead, he lowered his head and took a deep breath. 

You hated the sudden fear and panic of insecurity that shot through you. However, you couldn’t help but weakly ask, “s-something the matter?”

He nodded, meeting your gaze once more. “Yeah,” he sighed. You felt your heart drop, ready to close your legs when he continued, “those ruined panties haven’t come off yet.” A sigh of relief left you, your momentary panic bringing down all your walls with it as a blush tinted your cheeks. 

Jungkook must’ve liked that sight too because he was proudly smiling to himself. “Let me help you with that, little pet.” He dipped his head between your legs, lapping up the cum that stained your inner thighs too, not too bothered by the slight discolouration of them. 

Your legs were already trembling at the warmth of his mouth. He hooked his arms under both your legs, pulling your pussy closer to his face. Nudging his nose against your clothed clit, he inhaled your sinful scent. “God, this must be a fucking dream,” he muttered more to himself than to you in particular. “You smell even sexier when you fucking cum, babygirl.”

A whimper trickled out of your lips at his words as you gripped onto the edge of the desk. Little did you know that was merely the start of his filth. His mouth engulfed your clothed pussy in a single motion, licking and sucking the cum out of your panties. The hungry groans he made against your heat were boarderline pronographic. You were living for them, rolling your hips into his face relentlessly chasing after your next high. 

Jungkook tsked against your panties as if warning you to behave again, then sunk his teeth into them, catching a bit of your folds too. You cried out his name, your nails scratching at the dark wood beneath you. He watched you intently as he pulled those ruined panties off. You lifted your ass for him a bit and brought your legs together as he leaned back. 

He stood over you once they were off, the piece of clothing still locked in his jaw. Taking them out, he sniffed at them again. You pressed your thighs together once more, mesmerized by the sight before you. “Beautiful,” he rasped. Then he stuffed the wet, balled up panties in his pocket. “Mine now,” he explained, noticing the shock in your eyes. “Just like this pussy.” 

Grabbing your ankles, he pulled you closer to the edge of the desk and spread your legs apart once more. A little blush crept up his neck as the mess before him. He moaned to himself, getting on his knees. You never knew you needed to see a shirtless Jungkook on his knees before. He looked heavenly but his tongue was hellish, licking a clean strip up your folds. You threw your head back as he sucked on your clit. 

“Kookie,” you whimpered, having a lazy hand get lost in his hair again. You weren’t sure how or why you fell into that nickname, but you did and you weren’t planning on stopping. 

He hummed up at you, also accepting the nickname like you’ve been calling him that forever. His tongue swirled around your entrance, teasing - always fucking teasing you. He’d poke the tip of his tongue in only to watch you shudder and immediately clench your walls. His mouth traveled a bit higher halfway through another assault on your clit. 

“Can’t help it,” he muttered before licking at the short hairs a top your pussy. You blushed deeply at his actions. You had hoped he didn’t notice, but now seeing him practically lose himself over it, you felt a bit of pride swell in your chest. 

Jungkook bit at the flesh, tugging the hair with him as he pulled back. He spat on your pubes just to lick it up against the hair again. You gasped, looking down at his filthy actions with pure lust in your eyes. He repeated this action a couple of times, noting how excited it made you then returned to the wetness between your folds. 

“That really turned you on, huh baby?” He questioned watching as more of your wetness pooled out of your entrance. Diving right back in, he lapped up all the new arousal repeating the same flicks of his tongue over and over again. You couldn’t really grasp what the pattern was at first, but then it hit you all at once, forcing you to cry out in approval. He was licking his name against your entrance in Korean and English, poking his tongue into you with the dots of his js. 

“M-marking your territory?” you questioned, trying to sound as confident and composed as he did but your moans kept getting in the way. 

“I’d be drowning in it too if I wasn’t part fish,” he chuckled, fanning his warm breath against you. “Why don’t you prove me wrong, little pet?” His tone hinted that it was more of a suggestion rather than a challenge. “Cum for me.”

You were up for it either way, rolling your hips into his face. Nothing felt as sexy as when the little gills in the hollows of his cheeks brushed up against your inner thighs, slightly quivering at the contact. That unexpected sensation and the way Jungkook began to devour your pussy was enough to shock you into your second orgasm. 

“Oh, fuck yes,” you cried out, moans tumbling out of you endlessly. Your eyes rolled back, head falling back with them as you quivered against his face. “Yes, yes, yes, yes,” you squealed as you rode your release to the end. 

Jungkook flattened his tongue, letting you get yourself off on him. Once he was sure you finished spasming on his tongue, noting how your thighs started to squeeze his face as they came together, he flicked his tongue back into action. He lapped up your cum, swallowing every ounce of what you’d given him. 

Sensitive and gasping for air, you attempted to weakly push his face off of you. It was an impossible task. He was too strong and too consumed with the task at hand, slurping your juices, unfazed and unbothered. 

“Kookie… I… fuck,” you squealed, closing your legs around his face. He was practically suffocating against your pussy as he drank you up.

He suddenly, and very easily, pushed your legs apart as if you hadn’t just been using all your strength to close them. He got up, face glistening with a mixture of his saliva and your cum. He looked like a fucking goldfish god with his hair all tossel from your grip and face all smeared of your cunt. You wanted to clean it all up for him, but he wouldn’t give you a chance yet. 

His thumbs slid into his waistband about to push his pants down when he caught a glimpse of you. You were looking all fucked out, trembling from the remnants of your last orgasm, legs curled up into your chest. “You’re gonna make me lose my mind,” he whispered, all hints of playfulness and teasing threats gone from his tone. He almost sounded sincere, almost sounded like he actually meant all those things he said, like it wasn’t all just words thrown in the heat of the moment. 

You were panting quietly, not exactly sure what to say to that. You felt like you were saved by the exposure of his cock (on many levels) and pushed all thoughts away until you were back to your normal, rational state of mind. 

His cock was huge, veiny, and leaking precum, desperate for some contact. You shakily slid off the desk, fully prepared to get on your knees for him and give his heavenly cock the attention it deserved. But Jungkook tsked at you, nodding his head back to the desk. 

“Back on the desk, babygirl,” he grunted as he began to pump himself using the precum collected on his pink tip. 

You leaned against the edge of the desk for some stability, swallowing thickly at the sight of his veiny hand around his veiny cock. Licking your lips, you met his gaze shyly as if silently asking him to reconsider. 

Jungkook smirked, slightly buckling his hips into his hand. He gave himself a couple more pumps then set his hands on your hips to lift you back up on the desk again. “Be a good girl and I might consider letting you wrap that pretty mouth of yours around my cock next time,” he promised with a smile all too sweet for you to challenge. 

“Next time?” You meekly questioned. 

He positioned himself between your legs, that giddy smile still etched on his lips. He slapped his cock against your wet pussy a couple of times, making you whimper his name, before replying, “just behave, little pet, and you can have my cock down your throat anytime you want.” He then, without much further warning, sunk his cock into your entrance, hissing at the tightness. 

“J-Jungkook,” you sighed, only now just realizing how fucking badly you really needed him to fill you up. Tears pricked your eyes at the pure blissful sensation of his cock stretching you out so fucking good. 

Noticing your tears, he halted all movement. “Am I hurting you?” He asked, concern laced in his tone.

You shook your head immediately, all but begging, “keep going, please. Fuck, please kookie.” 

He let out a sigh of relief and continued to sink into you until he bottomed out. You gasped, holding his gaze while your nails dug into his shoulders. He flashed you a golden smile before pulling out and ramming back into you at a sinful pace. 

 “S-so b-ig,” you choked out between harsh thrusts. 

His face was contoured with pleasure, nose scrunched and brows furrowed in too cute of a way that you would’ve never even guessed he liked it this rough. “Ah-yah,” he gasped, overtaken by the clench of your cunt’s walls. “Tightest cunt I’ve had.”

You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer. He complied with little complaints and you leaned your forehead against his. Noses brushing, breath exchanging, Jungkook fucked you into the desk with such force, he jolted it back a bit with each thrust. You tilted your head enough to kiss his gills and whine against them. A smile graced his lips at the contact and he tightened his grip on your hips, his fingers digging into your soft flesh. You peppered each gill with kitten licks, then soft kisses despite how rough he was fucking you. 

Your arms moved around his back, practically hugging him. Shaky hands found his fin again and tightly gripped onto it. He buried his face in your hair, evading his senses with the floral scent of your hair, and groaned out little praises in your ear. You bit at his shoulder, subsiding your moans into his skin. You knew you weren’t exactly behaving, leaving little marks on his shoulder, but you also knew Jungkook was too engrossed with how your cunt gripped on his cock to care too much. 

All rough kisses and bites  on his shoulder came to a crashing halt, however, when he hit that spot deep within you. “Jungkook!” You shreeched, throwing your head back. He hit it again and again. Each time he hit it harder and rougher, coaxing you closer and closer to your release. 

You rested your forehead against his again, wanting to stare into his eyes when you came all over his cock this time. “There, there,” you encouraged, moving your hips up to meet his. The entire room returned the quick slaps of skin on skin in faint echoes, reminding you just how filthy this was. 

“Your close, aren’t you, little pet?” Jungkook asked as your cunt tightened around him. “Wanna cum, babygirl?”

You nodded your head eagerly, toes curling as that knot in your lower abdomen twisted in ways you weren’t completely familiar with. 

“Beg.”

“W-what?”

He chuckled and smacked your ass. You gasped, gawking at him in disbelief. “Beg.” he ordered. “I won’t repeat myself again.”

You squealed in frustration. “P-please Jungkook,” you started. “Your cock is so big… just wanna cum all over it. I- ah, I need to cum. Please, just please let me cum, kookie. Please!” 

“Cream on this cock, babygirl,” he growled in approval. 

You unraveled all you had to give him, cumming on his cock as he continued to ram into you in an unforgiving pace. You held his gaze all the while, shrieking moans and trembling whines escaping you. Your eyes slightly rolled back, mouth hung open as you tried your best to maintain eye contact. 

“Ah, fuck! You- you’re so fucking sexy when you cum, baby.” He gasped, thrusts getting sloppier. 

Though you were being overstimulated once again and felt the blissful burning of your after-high start to creep up on you, you still talked Jungkook into his orgasm. “Please fill me up, kookie,” you started, but never really got to finish as that was all it took for him to release ropes of white within you. 

You ground your hips into his as he buried himself deep in you. His brows knitted together, eyes just as needy as yours, cumming deep inside you. You knew he was cumming a lot just from how full you felt, but his cock was so huge, fitting your cunt just right, that it plugged all his cum in you, no remove for leaks. 

You circled your hips into his as he gasped for air, panting his hot breath over your face. “You’re so handsome when you cum,” you whispered, filter completely gone by now. 

Jungkook huffed a little smirk. He nudged his nose against yours before placing a gentle kiss against your lips. It was all over, the heat of the moment, the need for a release. Still, you kissed him back like it was a normal pastime. His tongue played with yours and you let him. It was like you two already had a routine of rough sex and intimate aftercare. And, shockingly enough, you didn’t find that off-putting at all. In fact, you realized you could actually get used to this, used to him like this. 

He pulled away, gasping once again. You joined him this time, slowly untangling yourself from him. You hadn’t even felt him soften inside you, practically just as big as when he was hard. You both gazed down at his cock, watching as he pulled it out to find it coated in a mixture of your cum, completely creamed. The cum plugged within your cunt came pouring out in thick glopes all over your graded paper. 

“Shit,” you whispered, watching your paper being ruined. “Now, that’s never going to the professor,” you huffed, looking up at him again. 

He bit his lip and scratched the back of his neck. “About that,” he began. “That’s actually not your real grade.”

A mixture of confusion and rage clouded your once sex-blown gaze. “What?”

“I may have given you another copy of your paper with a crappy grade just to get under your skin,” he confessed. He rested his hands on your thighs, rubbing them gently as if trying to calm you down. 

It worked. 

You raised a brow up at him. “Were you trying to get me naked?” 

Jungkook blushed, softly chuckling. “That was just as wonderful a surprise to me as it was to you.”

You held his gaze for a moment, finding comfort in the silence and his cute smile. “It was wonderful,” you muttered. 

“No one has touched my fin or gills like that,” he suddenly said, a blush tinting the tips of his ears. 

“Like this?” You asked as you leaned in to stroke his fin and kiss his gills once more. 

His hands found their place on your bruised hips and he hummed, “mhm,” before peppering your neck with sloppy kisses again. “Now get that pretty ass of yours off my desk.” He lifted you up only for you to wrap your legs around his waist. He laughed at your childish antics, holding you up by a newfound grip on your ass. “Come on, (Y/N),” he chuckled. 

You pulled back only a bit with a pouty smile playing on your lips. “Make me,” you whined. 

Jungkook smirked. “As you wish, little pet.”

[eqt-95]

One Night in Gotham

Summary | On the eve of taking over as the CEO of L-Corp, Lena Luthor makes a trip across the bay to Gotham to see an old friend.

-----

"Now what is a delicate flower like you doing all alone at the bar?"

Lena stifled a sigh of annoyance at the brazenness of strangers. This kind of thing wouldn't happen in Metropolis.

"Can I buy you a drink?"

Lena silently lifted her glass, indicating none was required.

Her eyes flitted up toward the bartender distracted by another patron, and she wondered for a moment how this man had been allowed into the private hotel bar. This was interrupted by the sound of the high-back chair next to her scraping against the marble flooring followed by the creak of the stranger posting up next to her. He reeked of booze and sounded winded by the exertion of the simple gesture.

"Well then perhaps I'll just buy myself a drink and enjoy the view," he smiled, exposing yellow-stained teeth behind the grizzly shag that covered his cheeks and chin.

No, this kind of thing would never happen in Metropolis.

"I'd rather you didn't."

"Free country, honey," he chuckled into a cough that echoed with the wetness of two packs a day.

Lena was used to all kinds of people. Although few and far between some were genuinely kind. Some were naive fools who could be talked out of house and home. Others were snake-oil salesmen, hiding behind earnestness. And then there were those who lacked any sort of self-awareness, boldly trying to claim what wasn't theirs in the process. These were the kind of people she'd spent the last few weeks battling, and she was exhausted from it.

She opened her mouth to articulate how unwelcome his presence was when a warm hand landed on her shoulder.

"Hey babe," came a voice behind her, and Lena smirked.

"Darling, you made it," Lena replied, turning in her seat toward the tall figure clad in leather with a helmet dangling from one hand.

"Sorry I'm late," came an apology.

Before Lena could play it off, she was caught by the feel of lips were pressed against her own. She peripherally heard the clatter of the helmet land on the bar before two warm hands slid up, cupping her face and turning the quick kiss into something more entirely. Initial surprise faded into confusion which then faded into the warm, flush lips on hers and the tongue greedily fighting for something more. She gave in on instinct, and was rewarded with the slight nip against her bottom lip and the unfamiliar taste of Kate Kane.

Whether time had suspended or continued to tick away, Lena wasn't certain, but when Kate finally pulled back and their eyes met she felt an unexpected warmth at the mischief glowing back at her.

"Can I help you?" Kate asked, finally breaking from Lena and turning to the stranger.

His face had frozen, stuck in a contorted look of envy and disgust. "N-no."

"No? Great," Kate continued smoothly. "Do you mind though? Because you're in my seat."

Lena glanced back at her half-empty drink trying to contain the smile that threatened to break at the man's discomfort. A few begrudging seconds passed before the figure folded and heaved himself out of the chair, sauntering off toward the far, empty end of the bar.

The long fingers that had just sent Lena's cheeks flush slid around her glass, lifting it to her nose before smirking and tossing the rest back.

"You have good taste," Kate remarked, setting the empty glass back down and waving over the bartender.

"Do you normally use that much tongue?"

"I was trying to make a point."

"I think a hug would have sufficed plenty."

"This is Gotham. We're more animalistic here; nothing like your fancy Metropolis folk," Kate smirked, ordering another pair of Scotches. "You can't mince words otherwise you leave them with deranged hope."

"That's not my problem."

"It isn't until you're leaving at the end of the night and get yanked into a dark alley because he's been lingering for hours taking that last remaining thread of hope and weaving it into some deep-seeded, confounding belief that you were meant for him."

"Speaking from experience?"

Kate shrugged.

"So instead you go for a full make-out session in the middle of a very public hotel bar."

"You're a quick study, Luthor."

Lena hummed impatiently.

"Besides, now I've got something to strike off my bucket list."

"What's that?"

"Lena Kieran Luthor kissed me."

"I'd hardly say that. I believe you instigated, and I was struck in a moment of surprise."

"I think the word you're looking for is 'wooed'. I wooed you."

A stoic look with a hint of skepticism stared back at Kate.

"How long have we known each other?"

"I think that depends on what you mean by 'known'."

"And in all those years," Kate continued, ignoring Lena's analytical response, "how many times have you been floored by my charm?"

"Never once. Not even in the slightest," Lena deadpanned.

Kate scoffed in exaggerated disbelief. "You have, you're just too uptight to have any fun. What about that time I punched Lex?"

"I was eight."

"Your point?"

"Mostly I was mortified."

"I bet that's even the word you used to describe it. Did you walk out of the womb a genius?"

"You joke, but Mother was outraged. To this day she practically spits whenever she hears the Kane name."

"Is she still alive?" Kate smirked into her glass. "It's not my fault she raised such an egotistical snob. Beth told him 'no' a dozen times. If he couldn't hear words, I figured he could hear a fist crushing his nose."

"That's not how he tells it."

"Because he can point to so much precedent for honesty," Kate replied dryly. Lena felt herself flinch, and Kate's demeanor softened. "Sorry."

"He wasn't always an ass."

"Sometimes people just… spiral."

"Speaking of, are you back for good?"

Kate shook her head. "Just passing through."

"Special occasion?"

"A wedding," she answered, quickly draining the rest of her drink.

"Was it nice?"

"Don't know." The empty glass was lifted toward the bartender. "Just leave the bottle."

This was the part of Kate that Lena loved and hated. They were both raised in over-sized homes with curated lifestyles and a litany of archaic topics they could talk endlessly about, but the concept of speaking about their personal lives was a loss to both of them. It was a familiar feeling that echoed deep into Lena's core, and she took no offense to Kate's aloofness - she was cut from the same cloth.

"Where to next?"

"France," she answered.

"Sounds romantic."

"Sure," Kate chuckled at some unspoken joke.

"Does anyone else actually know you're in town?"

Kate shook her head again.

"You've been away for a while."

"Miss me?" Kate smirked, and Lena saw the telltale signs of deflection through humor. Yes, they were practically carbon copies of each other. Different around the edges, but traces of the same upbringing formed matching foundations.

"Haven't had the time."

It was honesty that would seem cryptic to anyone else, but Kate nodded in understanding.

They sat in silence for a moment, Kate shuffling the glass across the smooth, lacquered finish of the bar.

"When do you-"

"Next week," Lena interrupted with a practiced tone.

"Nervous?"

"I am excited about the potential of-" Lena began before catching Kate's unamused expression. It was enough to silence the curated response she'd spouted for weeks to reporters, board members, and potential funders. "Yes."

It was a single word, but it was an admission she'd kept contained in a tiny box under the mountain of to-dos that guided her days and late nights. She glanced down at the dwindling drink in front of her, suddenly appreciative Kate had the foresight to keep the bottle.

"Good," Kate replied, now swirling the glass between her fingers.

"Good?"

"I'd be worried if you weren't."

"That's not how some would see it."

"Lillian doesn't really get a say."

"Mother isn't the only resistance. God knows I've stopped trying to prove anything to her, but it's more than just her now. It's board members. It's the public. It's the very people employed by the company. I am… I am not ready for this."

Lena didn't know where the admission was coming from, but now it felt like a spigot had been pulled open, and every reservation she had about becoming the youngest CEO of a Fortune 500 company.

"I'm 22," she said, and it felt like a confession - like no one had uncovered this hidden truth about Lena, and she was one big headline away from the rug being pulled from under her.

"You know what I was doing when I was 22?" Kate asked, preemptively refilling Lena's drink. "I was getting kicked out of school and spending my nights bouncing from one dive bar to another."

"I'm not sure what your point is, but I think it serves my argument better than yours," Lena scowled. "22 year-olds shouldn't be in charge of anything."

"My point is, you're not normal," Kate clarified. "If I was asked to run a company at 22, I'd be an idiot not to run in the opposite direction. But that's because I was a normal 22 year-old. One hundred percent of the world was a normal 22 year-old."

"Again, I'm not sure your argument is-"

"The reason it's one hundred percent is because I'm rounding. I'd need to rattle off, like, a hundred nines to make my point. You're the one in seven billion meant to do this."

"Seven."

"What?"

"Seven nines. After the decimal."

Kate stared dumbly for a moment before breaking in laughter. "You really are a freak. And you've just made my point for me."

"Mental math isn't a reason."

"No, but your persistence is."

"Haven't you heard? I'm a Luthor; can't be trusted."

Kate sighed, and Lena watched her mentally struggle to find the words to say. It was different than other times Lena had met Kate. Granted, they weren't close. After Lex's nose was bloodied and Lillian's disdain made known, the Kanes and Luthors rarely interacted. From that point on, the majority of their interactions were limited to formal galas and parties of similarly rich families, bouncing from one side of the bay to the other in their efforts to impress the extents of their wealth onto others. Kate always had a knack for slipping out and getting into some sort of trouble while Lena was petrified at the thought of disappointing Lillian.

When Kate's sister and mother died, Lena 'had the audacity' to ask if they would attend the funerals. Lillian refused, but Lex persuaded her otherwise, suggesting that it would be politically good to show sympathy for the Kane family. It was perverse but worked, and Lena was eternally grateful. It was that dark day that struck up an uncanny relationship between the Kane and the Luthor.

It had been nearly three years since their paths had crossed - the longest stretch of time since Kate was thirteen and Lena ten. Lena knew Kate's absence was due to world-traveling, but the details were sparse. Whispers at the latest galas spoke of general disappointment for the Kane daughter. Like Lena, Kate was the black sheep. Unlike Lena, Kate didn't seem to care.

"You're a Luthor, yes," Kate began. "You're honestly from a pretty shitty family. I have first-hand experience, and even without that the headlines have done a damn good job at making the average person aware of it. The company is in shatters, Lex is going to prison, and Lillian isn't human. I mean, she's really truly terrible. Like… is she human? Because when we were kids, I half wondered."

"That's not really-"

"Hang on, I'm getting off topic," Kate waved away. "Yes, you're a Luthor. Yes, the world is against you. Yes, it'll be hard; I won't even pretend to know how you'll do it, but you will. I also know I'm not saying anything you can't deduce on your own. I won't waste our time with talk of your talent, your genius, your raw determination, or the sacrifices you're making to turn Lex's sins into something good. Those reassurances mean nothing to you because you aren't ready to see it yet, and I'm not the person who can help you hear it."

"That's not even remotely close to advice, not to mention helpful advice."

"I didn't say it would be advice or helpful. If it was, I'd charge you for it."

"Are you offering?"

"Are you paying?"

"Depends on the advice."

"Clever. We'll make a decent CEO out of you yet."

Conversation flowed more easily from there. The edges were softened and the curated exteriors peeled back as the bottle slowly dwindled into nothing. The void of years spent apart was slowly filled in with stories of failures, happy accidents, lovers, and reminiscing.

There was an easy comfort with Kate that always took hold; she wasn't trying to pretend to be anything special and there were never any expectations. It made for a breath of fresh air when Lena's world revolved around accuracy, planning ahead, and keeping face. Kate lived life like a game of casual checkers. Lena lived her's for the chess match it was. But for one night, on the eve of her formally stepping into her new life, she played checkers.

Lena should have known better than to assume the interaction would end after a single drink, and she was only slightly surprised when the bartender came by with the bill. She looked around realizing the bar had emptied; for how long it had been just the two of them she didn't know. She also didn't care.

They paid the tab but lingered a while longer, fighting off the real world for a few precious moments until finally, the staff politely advised that, while they didn't have to go home, they couldn't stay here.

"You aren't driving, right?" Lena asked, gesturing at the helmet left forgotten on the bar.

"No, 'here' is home tonight," Kate replied lightly, albeit with a slight slur.

"I'm sure your dad would like to see you."

"Jacob would like a lot of things."

Lena nodded, recognizing the window had closed.

"Any chance I can woo you again, Ms. Luthor?" Kate asked with a cheesy smirk. "I've got a fancy suite with a bed and stuff."

Yes, the light-heartedness was still there but it fell into their respective roles.

"That's your pick-up line? I expected more from you."

Kate pondered for a moment. "Ok, how about this: I wasn't sure if you were a beautiful angel or a sexy devil, but now that I'm close, I see heaven in your eyes."

"Does that actually work?"

"Fifty-fifty? A guy used it on me once."

"And?"

"Well, obviously it didn't work with him, but I tried it a few nights later… and, yea," Kate smirked, "it worked."

"Years at Military school, and you didn't lose an ounce of confidence," Lena sighed, tossing back the rest of her own drink and grabbing her jacket.

The entrance came far too quickly, and the door swung open to reveal the murkiness of the city night beyond.

"Huh, it's raining," Kate said, gesturing for Lena to exit ahead of her.

"It's pouring."

"It's Gotham."

"It never rains this much in Metropolis." Lena mumbled it in frustration, trying to excuse her lack of preparedness to the foreignness of her surroundings.

The sound of a soft click and thwoop came, followed by an invisible shield deflecting the incoming rain drops. Lena glanced up and saw the city was blocked out by a stretch of black fabric.

"How are you getting back?" Kate asked, holding the handle of the umbrella suspended over them.

"My driver should be here in a minute."

Kate whistled softly, muted by the avalanche of raining falling around them. "Fancy CEO privileges."

Lena forced a smile, feeling the familiar pull of stress and weight of worry return to her shoulders. She glanced back at the hotel lobby; the warm light, the soft chairs, the comforting sting of alcohol, and the laughter. For a moment she had forgotten, and in this moment she wanted to forget again.

"You'll be great. And I hope one day you'll find someone who can get you to see who you are Lena. You're a Luthor, yes, but you're so much more than a name."

Lena's eyes were pulled back to the voice next to her, and she found herself staring into Kate's piercing green eyes. Even through the haze of alcohol they were focused and confident. Focused was something Lena was very familiar with; confidence though? Hardly. Years of Lillian's cutting words had stripped her of that. But in depriving her of it, she'd acquired something better: persistence.

Kate's gaze didn't waver. Instead something else appeared, and it took all of Lena's brain to comprehend what it was: it was admiration. It was unfamiliar, and if it weren't for years of being trained as a Luthor, she'd have averted her eyes to the nearest distraction.

"If you're ever in National City, give me a ring."

"And if you're ever back in Gotham-"

"Unlikely."

"-immediately turn around and leave," Kate finished, and Lena felt her lips fight against her facade to curl into a smile at the deprecating humor. "Besides, I won't be around so who is there to see?"

"I'm sure any one of the millions of Gothamites would be a suitable substitute for Kate Kane."

"At least you didn't include the entire world."

"Only because you didn't offer," Lena shot back, and for a moment the masks fell back off, and they let laughter be swallowed into the city around them.

It settled when a black car slowed to a stop in front of them, and Lena felt the tug of life return.

"As usual, you've gotten me tipsier than I'd planned, Kate Kane."

"It was my pleasure Lena Luthor," Kate smiled, reaching for the car door and swinging it open.

Lena hesitated, feeling the wash of new car smell and air conditioning waft from the car and mix with the city and humidity. Her fingers gripped the edge of the door, feeling the drips of water mix with the dirt that had accumulated.

She didn't know the words to say to express her appreciation. Kindness wasn't something she'd been exposed to and so never quite knew how to articulate the swirling, changing web of emotions that fought to be seen. A life of compartmentalizing had cast these feelings off into the tiniest of boxes in the shadow of her mind, and she knew that a week from now the warmth and friendship she felt tonight would be a distant memory. It wasn't enough to change her, but it was enough to remind her that she could.

"Thank you," she said before stretching up on her toes to close the gap between her lips and Kate's cheek, leaving a soft kiss and silencing Kate before she could cast back a signature sarcastic response. "Now you can strike it off your bucket list."

- eqt_95 on ao3

[kaleidoscopek9]

ALRIGHT-

SO

I've had this list of headcannons just sitting in my notes app of my phone and I wanna put it somewhere so 👀

(These are heavily inspired by what I could gather from the skele boys in @bonelyheartsclub! I just threw in a few of my own.)

-----------*

Sans

- Does a LOT of stargazing and has quite a few space-themed knicknacks and clothes in his room. He's got a telescope too!

- Dad jokes. Any time is prime dad joke time. He's never let an opportunity slip past him.

- He's an absolute prank master. You're considered lucky if you happen to avoid the ones he's planted around the house like bombs waiting to go off.

- He's cryptic as fuck. Always giving half-true answers to every question. Occasionally he may slip up and give you a brutally honest response, but that's only with the people he trusts most, and he finds being open to be very difficult.

- He's constantly referencing memes and vine quotes from days of yore. He practically has a database of every meme ever in his head, and he doesnt let it go to waste.

- Cuddling with him is basically a one way ticket to nap-town, and you constantly find yourself waking up to him smooshed against you on the couch after dozing off. For being a skeleton, he is a surprisingly comfortable snuggler.

-----------*

Papyrus

-So much baking and cooking. It's his favorite past time, and the kitchen never smells the same when he's done making whatever he's making in there (it's 12 times out of 10 pasta) And while his cooking may be sub-par, you never say no when he asks you to try his latest dish.

- He's always up to go shopping with you. It never matters where. Malls are his favorite, especially the big grand ones with fountains and huge windows. He makes it a point to bring spare cash because you KNOW he's going to ride the mini marry-go-round even if he can barely fit in the seats.

- You two love to binge watch cooking channels. Always discussing which foods would be the most fun to make, writing down recipies, and having a hell of a time trying to pause the show at the right points to get all the information down.

- Papyrus is notorious for game nights. He's always pulling out boards and cards that you've never heard of before and never starts a game until he's absolutely certain you know the rules. Winning of course, is always his prime goal when it comes to games, but if he senses you're on a particularly rough losing streak, he MAY slip up. Occasionally. Just enough so you can win a game or two. Or five.

-----------*

Blue

- Hyper as all hell. You give him a reasonable dose of sugar or caffeine and he could power an entire city for a few hours without breaking a sweat.

- If he had been in high school, Blue would have been a theater kid. He's always humming a tune from a Broadway show or Disney movie, and he's got a pretty good collection of songs on his brother's Spotify playlist.

- This guy will blast Steven Universe music at full volume he has no shame.

- If you are ever driving somewhere with him, an aux cord is a MUST. Singing in the car is a very frequent thing with you two, and you'll only get out after the song is over.

- He likes cryptids! Mothman is his favorite and he firmly believes he exists somewhere.

- He's your workout buddy. If he manages to drag you to the gym with him, that is.

- Blue hates seeing you down in the dumps, and is always trying to cheer you up with his quirky puns and jokes to get you smiling again.

- He'd be the best motivational poster ever. Whenever he picks up that you're going through a rough spot and falling behind on self-care, he knows just what to say to put the spark back in you again.

-----------*

Stretch

- Radiates goblin energy.

- A goddamn meme lord.

- He's made two or three widely known viral videos and nobody knows it was him.

- You need someone to go to an anime convention with? Stretch is your guy. He's god awful at planning stuff out, but he'll make sure you both have a good time, no matter what happens.

- He's really big into nerd culture, and he DMs for a dungeons and dragons game every week.

- He'll occasionally smoke, but he doesnt have lungs, so he does it more for shits and giggles than anything else.

- As lazy as he seems, he is very reliable. If he knows it's something important to you, he'll get it done. Chores though, he's a lot more iffy with.

- He really likes bees.

-----------*

Red

- Talks big talk, but he's actually a huge softie.

- He's basically a big pillow with sharp teeth that can curse.

- A nervous wreck.

- His brother shops at Hot Topic. He shops at Spencer's. Very convenient.

- He's a pretty big flirt and throws out little compliments and things to butter you up from time to time.

- If you take Red into a Dave and Busters he will win the most expensive prize at the booth in about 2 hours. (He knows how to cheat at every single game)

- He's a competitive gamer, and has a pretty impressive following on Twitch.

- He can go from loud and brash to quiet and insecure in a matter of moments, depending on the situation.

- He loves to bake, although it's something he will never be caught dead doing.

- Comfort is not his strong suit, but he will defend you without a second thought.

- He can be a little clingy and will text you now and again to ask what you're up to, just to ease his mind.

-----------*

Boss

- Professionalism is his game.

- The walking embodiment of Hot Topic.

- He loves to listen to rock and screamo music. He's also got a thing for Disney villain songs.

- You need some punk biker or vampiric goth fashion advice? Boss got ya.

- Skellator Man.

- Out of all the skeletons, Boss has the biggest ego.

- He hates admitting he's wrong. He would rather DIE than admit he's fucked up something.

- "I am not nice-"

- He could kill a man with his high heels.

- If it's got spikes he'll probably wear it.

- Tsundere. Tsundere. Tsundere. Tsundere. Tsu

- Did I mention he's a cold blooded tsundere.

-----------*

Nox

- Small angery man.

- He listens to a lot of classic and instrumental music. He finds it very sophisticated.

- Wakes up obscenely early in the morning. Always followed by a cup of the most bitter coffee on the planet.

- Comes up with the best insults. He could roast someone so hard that they'd dissolve into a pile of soot. He could glare at you and you'd cease to exist. He's that good.

- WILL step on you without remorse.

- Threatens to kill someone on a daily basis.

- Very rarely has spare time for himself. He's always keeping busy doing something.

- Loves dark, dry humor. A child falling off a swing will have him laughing for a good five minutes.

- Has a stone cold poker face.

- He might have a softer side to him. You may never know because of the walls he's built up around him.

-----------*

Rus

- He absolutely adores animals. He volunteers at the local animal shelter and plans on adopting every single dog there.

- Rus has a massive sweet tooth. Donuts are his favorite, and you can easily bribe him with anything sugar coated.

- A road trip master. You put him in a camper and he knows exactly where he's going and what he's doing.

- "Going off grid, fuck yeah- I pull out my credit cards and shred 'em."

- Hiking, camping and geocaching are some of his favorite things to do. He loves to explore the wilderness and it's like he has a built-in compass for finding his way.

- His ideal date is going to a Wal-Mart and causing absolute chaos by riding bikes around and tossing all of the inflatable balls from their displays.

- Cryptidcore energy.

- Rus loves watching Buzzfeed Unsolved and ghost huntings. He's a big fan of Supernatural and Stranger Things, too.

- Stutters and slurs his words a lot. He's got some speech impediments from the gold canines in his mouth.

- A bit lacking when it comes to social skills, but he can be extremely caring and sweet.

-----------*

Ash

- Very soft-spoken and awkward. He doesn't get much social interaction and is still figuring some things out.

- He's very self-aware of the wound in his head. Whenever he has to leave the house he wears some sort of hat to cover it up.

- Practically lives in his garden. He understands plants more than he does human beings, and he spends time daily tending to whatever he's growing.

- Him and his brother are both vegetarians, and the smell or sight of meat makes them both feel sick to themselves.

- Has trouble sleeping due to his reoccurring nightmares. He will often sit in his garden late at night to help calm himself.

- Radiates soft energy. He would absolutely give the best hugs out of all the skeletons.

- Very touch-starved. Physical affection is something he rarely recieves, and he probably lingers with touches a lot longer than he should.

- Unintentionally makes God-teir jokes without realizing it.

----------*

Poplar

- Very well-educated in a lot of things. He really likes stocking up on useless factoids and making up his own just to mess with people.

- He answers Jeopardy questions with concerning accuracy.

- He enjoys going out to eat, and he's always up to try fancy foods.

- He likes photography and reading. He is well into the Harry Potter series.

- Poplar is prepared for anything at any time. A lot of stuff doesnt phase him at all, and it's difficult to catch him off-guard.

- He's willing to try anything new, once.

- Always willing to help out with schoolwork if he thinks you're seriously struggling with it.

- He's always carrying around small planners and notebooks to write in so he can keep track of things.

[kurokoros]

cat out of the bag | masterlist

Chapter One: dial back the thirst

Two teams; one bitter rivalry. As manager of the Karasuno college volleyball team, you probably shouldn’t be seeing Kuroo, the Nekoma captain. How long can you keep the cat in the bag before your team finds out?

AN: Full 2K scene under the cut! Enjoy! Fingers crossed that I get the next part out on Wednesday to make up for not posting this on Friday!

Honestly, you should have expected Bokuto’s “casual” party to be anything but. Even with Fukurodani’s level-headed setter present, the volleyball team easily fed on Bokuto’s chaotic nature, and it wasn’t long before some of the first years got into the alcohol, much to Kaori’s chagrin. Though you came with Kaori and Yukie, it didn’t take long for the three of you to split apart, with Yukie disappearing with her boyfriend and Kaori relegated to playing babysitter for the rest of the night.

You aren’t sure how you ended up talking to Akaashi, exactly, but you can’t complain.

Taking another sip of your own drink, you hurriedly slip your phone back into your pocket, ignoring the frantic buzzing from the group chat asking you more about your “sexy mystery man” as Yukie put it. As you fiddle with the sleeve of your Fukurodani sweatshirt (courtesy of Yukie for spilling whatever ungodly concoction of fruit punch, tequila, and other trace amounts of alcohol Bokuto came up with all over your own jacket), you cast a glance around the room. You try to be subtle, but your nonchalance crumbles as soon as your eyes latch onto the aforementioned stupidly hot volleyball player.

Lingering a little too long on the firm muscles revealed by his short-sleeves, heat prickles across your skin when those hazel, cat-like eyes lock with yours as if he’d already been staring at you. The right side of his mouth curls into a pleased smirk. He straightens to his full height, towering over his friend standing beside him. And then he winks.

You almost choke on your drink.

Beside you, Akaashi snorts, and you catch him mid-eyeroll as your gaze snaps back to him. Shit, if he saw what just happened, he’ll never let you live it down. The Fukurodani vice-captain doesn’t look at you though. Instead, his attention is locked on his phone as he types out a quick response to whoever is texting him--probably Bokuto sending him drunk memes again. You quirk a brow, but don’t ask.

Suddenly, his expression shifts from fond annoyance to something serious. Akaashi glances across the room, lips pressed into a stern line. You can’t be sure who he’s looking at in the packed room, but your attempt to follow his gaze leads you right back to the mystery man that you’ve been casually staring at since he first walked through the door. Hazel eyes shift between you and Akaashi curiously, and his smirk widens as he turns back to his phone.

“Something wrong?” you ask Akaashi, who’s now staring at his phone in exasperation as another text comes through. You nudge him with your shoulder, taking another sip of your drink.

Dark blue eyes glance at you. “Not yet,” he tells you cryptically, stuffing his phone back into his pocket without responding to the text. Sighing, he mutters something under his breath that you don’t catch. 

Your brows furrow at his bizarre answer, and you lower your cheap, plastic cup in order to send him a look, but he just waves you off and crosses his arms over his chest. Before you can press the subject, Akaashi rolls his eyes, looking past you at someone else. “Kuroo,” he greets with a nod.

Glancing up at the new arrival, your breath catches when you find a pair of eyes you’re quickly becoming familiar with staring right back at you. If you’d still been drinking, you think you would have choked for real this time. Hot volleyball boy is even more attractive up close, which you, frankly, didn’t think could be possible. He’s even taller than you thought, lean with broad shoulders, and damn it’s a little embarrassing how quickly your gaze drops to his arms, but the way he rakes his fingers through his messy hair only emphasizes his biceps.

You practically rip your eyes away from him, but it’s too late.

Kuroo’s lips curve upwards at the edges like he knows exactly what you’re thinking, grin lazy in a way that has a slow shiver rolling down your spine. There’s no way to play it off like you were doing anything but checking him out--which you totally blame on Bokuto’s godawful mixed drinks--but you can’t really feel ashamed when he’s eyeing you just as much interest. He lingers on you for just a second too long before turning back to your surly companion.

“Kaashi. How ya doin’ buddy?” Kuroo glances at you pointedly again, clearly trying to get Akaashi to introduce you, and you bite your lip to muffle your laughter as Akaashi just stares back in annoyance, looking like he’d rather be anywhere else right now.

Without bothering to reply to Kuroo, Akaashi turns to you and places a hand on your head. You huff as he ruffles your hair. “I’m going to look for Bokuto,” he tells you as you swat his hand away. Amusement curls at the corner of his mouth, but it’s gone as soon as he turns back to the other man. “Behave.” It’s a warning if you’ve ever heard one.

Kuroo’s smirk widens. “Have fun!” he calls after Akaashi, who pretends not to hear him as he slips into the crowd in search of his not-boyfriend. You snort into your drink, rolling your eyes at his retreating frame, and that’s when Kuroo glances down at you again. There’s something like mischief in his eyes. “So,” he starts casually, “do you have eleven protons? Cause you’re so-dayum fine.”

It shouldn’t be funny. Really, it shouldn’t. But something about the way he says it so nonchalantly has an embarrassing giggle slipping from you. That only makes him look more pleased, and an amused sound pulls from the back of his throat as he introduces himself properly.

You tell him your name as well, unable to stop the smile from overtaking you. “So, is that how you introduce yourself to everyone?” you ask, fiddling with your empty cup. Slowly, you glance around the crowded room, searching for Yukie or Kaori, but it isn’t long before you’re staring up at Kuroo unabashedly again, some unexplainable magnetic pull making you want to lean in closer.

The question makes his lips twitch. Kuroo leans back against the wall beside you, gaze lazy and playful as he looks back at you. “Not always,” he admits, making you snort softly. “My friend Yaku kind of goaded me into it. Said I should stop staring and talk to you.”

“Did he?” You bite back a stupid smile.

Kuroo chuckles and reaches up to run a hand through his messy hair. “Yeah. I believe his exact words were to go talk to the pretty girl with Akaashi, because my staring was ‘gross and obnoxious,’ ” he quotes, making a face. Something in his expression shifts as he glances at you. A little softer than before. A little nervous.

You don’t miss a beat, nodding in understanding. “Ah, one of those friends. I think Akaashi was getting ready to say something similar to me.”

“Akaashi does have a way with words doesn’t he?” he jokes.

“Oh, absolutely.” Shoving away from the wall, you come to stand in front of him, head cocked to one side as you look him over again, again lingering on the lean muscle lining his arms. Kuroo preens under the attention, back straightening and eyes lighting up as you lean in a little closer than necessary. “So, do you have more pick-up lines on standby, or are you not as charming as you look?” It’s bolder than anything you’d usually say, but you’re two drinks in and he’s hot, so you might as well shoot your shot.

You didn’t think his smirk could get any wider, but it does. “Well I could tell you one about gravity, but it might make you fall for me.”

Snorting, you roll your eyes and reach for another cup of Bokuto’s mixed drinks sitting on a nearby table. Even still, you can feel your face heating up from the silly pick-up line. “Oh come on, you can do better than that,” you tease back, goading him.

You bring the rim of the cup to your lips, eyes locked on his as you take a slow drink. Kuroo watches you, wetting his lips. “You sure you wanna play that game, kitten?”

The petname makes your breathing hitch; he notices. “Definitely.”

You don’t know how long you spend talking to Kuroo, just that doing so is incredibly easy. Easier than it should be, considering you’ve just met, but it helps that you have friends in common. It’s strange that you’ve never met before now, considering he’s friends with Bokuto and has to be a volleyball player. There’s no way that he isn’t. And you’re so sure that you would have recognized him if you’d seen him before, but the thought slips away from you by the time you finish your next drink.

Kuroo is just as charming as you expected, teasing you with silly pick-up lines that wouldn’t work coming from anyone but him, but silly, too. He croons along with the songs playing over the speakers, and tells you about the stupid things he and Bokuto got up to in high school. At one point he slips into a tangent about some chemistry theory that you don’t understand, but the way his eyes light up more than makes up for your confusion.

He’s a dork. An incredibly sexy dork, but still a dork. And you end up cuddled up next to him on the couch downstairs as the party starts to wind down, your limbs heavy and sleep starting to tug at your senses. Your legs are tossed over his lap, head on his shoulder, and Kuroo doesn’t seem to be complaining in the slightest.

“Okay, okay,” you giggle, leaning further into his chest as you peek up at him. “What’s the worst sciency pick-up line you know?”

He hums. “Worst as in bad or nasty?”

“Surprise me.”

He thinks about it for a minute, brows furrowed as his head lolls back against the couch. Two long, calloused fingers idly stroke the bare skin of your shoulder where his arm is wrapped loosely around you. You shift against his chest to watch his lips twitch as he finds an answer. “If I was an endoplasmic reticulum, how would you want me: smooth or rough?”

And you crack up. “Has that ever worked?”

“Fuck no!” Kuroo sends you a look, chuckling himself. “The only other person I’ve ever told that one to is my friend Kenma. I’ve never seen anyone more disgusted.”

After your laughter dies down, you manage to ask the question that’s been swimming at the forefront of your mind since you first saw him across the room. “So how long have you been playing volleyball?”

He quirks a brow. “How do you know I play volleyball?”

Snorting, you gesture vaguely around the now half-empty room. “Aside from this being a party hosted by the boy’s volleyball team? You look the type.”

“Yeah?” You can hear the smile in his voice. “How’s that, kitten?” he asks, reaching for his drink.

“Your thighs,” you admit bluntly, and Kuroo chokes on his drink, eyes wide as they snap to you. “Definitely your thighs.” And then, because there’s no way you’re sober right now, you punctuate this statement by reaching down and grabbing one of said thighs, giving the firm muscle a gentle pat that turns into more of a cheeky squeeze.

Kuroo looks at you like he isn’t sure whether to be amused or shocked, but his smirk shifts into something softer. “You’re drunk, huh?”

You nod. “Absolutely.”

Chuckling, he shakes his head. The fingers that have been absentmindedly stroking your arm come to a stop as you curl into his side and close your eyes. “Do you need me to find one of your friends?” Kuroo’s voice is quiet, his breath warm against your ear.

“No.” You shake your head, effectively nuzzling closer to him without realizing it. “Stay.”

He does.

Taglist: OPEN

[vampylovesaliens]

Duality - p18

--regained trust

With the water lapping in his ears and his eyes closed, the lagoon’s steady pulsing with the waterfall and the pleasant bickering of the Youngblood trio nearby, Silas was suddenly brought out of his reverie by a claw tapping on his forehead. He opened his eyes again to see Dre’vik-kha leaning down, her head tilted as she peered down at him with her long tresses hanging around her face, the longest of them near enough to almost brush his face. “Are you alright?”

“Oh, I’m fine.” He smiled, lifting a hand to gently bat the tip of one long tendril, making Dre’vik-kha click in mild amusement. “...How can something as big and fierce as you move so quietly? I didn’t even feel you approach.”

“We are good at what we do.” She stated plainly, straightening again and sidestepping, only to sit beside him in the shallows. Silas sat up, shaking the water from his hair and pushing it back from his face again. “Thanks for, uh...saving me, heh. I was pretty sure that I was gonna fall and break my head open.”

“It was foolish of you.” She clicked, giving him an almost scolding look--before reaching over and lightly prickling her claws across the top of his head in what he figured was a much gentler version of the tress-tousling she had given her Youngbloods. “But it was bold. I didn’t expect you to push yourself so far.” She leaned back again slightly, bracing on her elbows as she turned her gaze to the waterfall. On the rocks nearby, Rok���aan yelped as Epi’ta-kha pushed him unceremoniously off the perch they’d been sharing. Silas couldn’t help but chuckle as he watched the twins bicker, Kray-ekh’a laughing at their antics as well. “Species doesn’t matter when it comes to sibling antics, I guess.” Dre’vik-kha rumbled her agreement, her mandibles twitching. “I assume your sister was always the more aggressive between you?”

Silas sighed, plucking a pebble from the shallows beneath him and turning the smooth rock in his fingers before he tossed it, the little stone plinking lightly into the water again. “I guess. I mean, I had my rebellious phase, but she’s always been....I guess militant, even before we joined the Corps. But she’s the eldest, and we had a tough time as kids, so I guess she didn’t have much choice.” He shrugged.

Dre’vik-kha tilted her head, and he realized she was looking at him expectantly, waiting for him to say more. He fidgeted briefly--he hadn’t really planned to tell her his life story, or at least he hadn’t expected she would actually care to hear it. “Er...our dad took off when we were little. I don’t even remember him. And he never called or tried to visit us, so...he just stopped existing. Our mom tried to keep things together, but then she got together with a new guy who was...not great.” He frowned as he recalled, lowering his gaze to the water and dipping his finger in, lifting it out and watching the droplets gather at his fingertip. “Maeve and I were left on our own a lot. Mom was either working or out doing who-knows-what with her new boyfriend, and then she lost her job and we finally lost our house. So we moved back with him all the way across the Atlantic into a shitty little apartment--” He paused, glancing back to the Yautja to make sure she was still listening and not visibly irritated, “--and that’s when everything really got bad.”

“Was he cruel?” Dre’vik-kha clicked curiously, her mandibles flexing. Silas let out a slightly bitter laugh, absentmindedly rubbing at his jaw where an old scar now lay hidden beneath his closely-trimmed beard. “Yeah, you could say that. He didn’t like us at all. I was just a kid--I think I was only four when they got married so she could stay in the States.” He doubted the names of places made much difference to Dre’vik-kha, but he realized that aside from Rodrigo, he had never really had the chance to tell anyone about his life before the Corps. “He thought I was a whiny little brat--maybe I was, but I was so little, you know? Maeve had to take a lot of shit trying to defend me.”

Dre’vik-kha narrowed her eyes briefly, tilting her head. “Your mother allowed it?”

Silas shrugged, shifting awkwardly. “I don’t think she liked it, or anything, but...well, she didn’t try to stop it much, either. He’d be nasty to her too, if she ever argued.” He glanced back to the towering alien, eyeing her quizzically for a moment. “...I don’t suppose the Yautja have issues like that. I can’t really picture anyone bullying you, heh.”

She growled her approval at the statement, her mandibles flaring. “Any male who tried would quickly regret it. There are many of us across many worlds, though; I can only hope it’s as frowned upon everywhere as it is on Prime.” Silas perked at that, his curiosity latching onto the cryptic name. “Prime? Is that your homeworld? What’s it like?”

Dre’vik-kha chuffed humoredly. “Yautja Prime, yes. It is...difficult to describe. It is where the Yautja began, and where our Primarchs rule over all Yautja space.” She shifted slightly, perhaps weighing the pros and cons of sharing this rather more personal information. “...It’s harsher than this world, by far. But more developed, naturally. One of the only places we have built true cities, rather than just making our settlements to suit wherever we live. I don’t think your kind would survive the climate.” She eyed him skeptically, and he chuckled a bit at that. “So..the Primarchs are like your government, then? Do you...keep contact with them often? I haven’t seen much of your tech beyond some of your gear, and your medical facilities.” He grimaced awkwardly, hoping the question wouldn’t overstep too much.

She gave him another searching look before rumbling quietly, nodding. “They check in periodically with clans across the stars. They do not interfere, though, unless there is major concern.” There was a certain weight to her words that unsettled him, and he couldn’t help but think about the compound in the midst of a razed chunk of jungle land, and the Pilgrim station that orbited overhead. “...Have you talked to them about, uh...us being here?”

Dre’vik-kha picked up some pebbles from the shallows, letting them fall through her claws to plink back into the water. “Yes.” She stated plainly. “They are. Don’t fret, they’re not going to have your ships torn from the sky. Not yet at least.” She gave him a look that was difficult to read; he wasn’t sure if it was meant to gauge his response or if it was meant to convey a joking tone--or maybe it was a threat? Just when Silas felt he was starting to understand the nuances of Yautja expression he found himself fumbling again. “Ah.” He finally stated with a brief nod. “...Good to know, I guess. What have they said about us, though?”

“That is not something I feel I can share.” She grunted, pushing herself up and getting to her feet again, shaking herself briefly. Silas balked a bit, his brow furrowing as he craned his head to follow her as she towered over his still-seated position. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.” “It isn’t your fault.” She extended a hand in an offer to help him up, which after a moments’ hesitation he reached up to take, letting her powerful grip nearly haul him up without any effort on his part. “I believe you when you present yourself as trustworthy, Silas. But I do not trust your kin, and I would not want to see you harmed at their hands in their pursuit of information about us.”

Before Silas could comment on that she’d released him again, clattering at her Youngbloods to signal them to get up and retrieve their gear after her. Part of him wanted to dismiss the notion outright--he had nothing to fear from his people. Maeve did not agree with him, but she would never cause harm over their disagreement. As much as he distrusted Lao, he didn’t think there was malice behind his odd behavior. A small, defensive corner of his brain wanted to turn his skepticism onto Dre’vik-kha now; was she just trying to stir discord in him, to derail any investigation that could bridge the gap between their peoples? No, that didn’t sit right. She wasn’t conniving like that. He shook his head, sighing flatly as he got up and followed the Yautja back to where he’d left his clothes. His legs shook slightly beneath him--the strain of the climb wouldn’t be quickly recovered from. But he didn’t dare complain as he shook out the water and grabbed his things, falling into step behind the Yautja as they headed back up from their little lagoon hideaway. As they returned to the forest he cast his gaze up through the treetops overhead. They did not have aerial patrols yet, but it was only a matter of time before they had operational shuttles for more than just supply and personnel runs. And then the lack of scanning clarity wouldn’t matter; the humans would find the pyramid easily, and the village around it. But he knew pushing the matter too much would only derail his efforts to build trust now; Dre’vik-kha was intelligent enough to know what was on the line anyway. Surely she knew that day was coming, when there wouldn’t be any more use in hiding or laying low. He took a deep breath, silencing the impatient thoughts that nagged at him. He was too exhausted to dwell on it now anyway; a good nights’ sleep would be enough to refuel him for the subject tomorrow.

By the time they had returned to the village the daylight was fading, the jungle full of noise from nocturnal creatures that made Silas anxious, dragging his leaden legs in his determination to keep up with the Yautja. Dre’vik-kha retreated to her bed with only a brief dismissal, doubtlessly tired and consumed with her own thoughts, and as much as Silas wished they could’ve spoken more he didn’t want to wear out his welcome. Rok’aan tousled his hair as he dragged himself to the pile of bedding waiting for him, a friendly gesture--and one that he felt indicated he had earned respect from the young warrior. And while perhaps the Youngbloods were not as discerning as their Matriarch, it still stirred a flutter of excitement in his belly to think that perhaps he was worthy of their approval. For perhaps it meant that at least someday he would be worthy of hers, as well.

[aerynwrites]

Stardust

Cassian Andor x Reader Soulmate!AU

Author’s Note: Why do I do this to myself? I almost cried writing this you guys, I am upset lol. I hope you guys like this bc I was so inspired to write this for whatever reason, hope you enjoy! 

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: Character death, angst, lots of emotional turmoil, that’s it. 

////

You had never met your soulmate.

Even though you had lived your entire life feeling all of their pain, their heartache, everything, you had never met them. You surmised from the countless bruises that appeared and the random bouts of pain that you recieved that they had a very active and apparently dangerous lifestyle - but you had no idea who they were. You didn’t know if it was a man or a woman, if they had dark hair or light, what they looked like, what they sounded like...it was all unknown to you.

So why did it hurt so much when they died?

You had been carrying the crop from your garden into your small home when you felt it. It started out as just a deep heartache, that for some reason slowly ebbed away until it was replaced by a terrible fiery pain all over. You dropped the basket in your hands, the pain bringing you to your knees before it was gone in an instant, replaced by something even worse than all the pain you had felt over the years.

There was nothing. Your soulmate was gone.

Your kind elderly neighbor, a woman named Ada who had basically been your mother since your parents had passed, heard your wails of anguish from her home. But even she could not console you as you screamed at the stars. You weren’t even thirty years old and already you had experienced the worst thing anyone ever will - the loss of your other half. Your mind went numb, you had never felt something this powerful in your short lifetime, something this life altering - aching so deep your bones seemed to hurt as Ada forced you from the ground and into your home. Everything was a blur, hidden and misconstrued by the utter anguish in your soul. You think the kind woman had tried to say something, ask what was going on, but you didn’t answer. You couldn’t past the tears burning your cheeks and the sobs ripping from your throat. The next thing you knew, you were in bed, curled in tightly on yourself with the blankets pulled up around your shoulders as you continued to wail into the pillow beneath you. You didn’t even know how much time had passed - seconds? Minutes? Hours?

The only thing your foggy mind seemed to register was that you needed sleep. That and an unfamiliar faint whisper as you fell into a fitful slumber.

‘I’m so sorry.’

***

It had been a couple of days since they died. And instead of things getting even slightly better, they just seemed to get worse. You felt empty since the moment you woke up, a part of you was missing after all, but even though you felt empty on the inside, you had the eerie feeling of not being alone. Every step you took around your small cottage, you felt watched - but not only that, things were...off. The first day after you woke up, you hadn’t left the bed, you didn't have the physical or emotional energy to do so. Yet, despite knowing you were the only one in your home, it’s like you could feel another presence. You tried to brush it off, excuse it as your mind trying to find some way of coping with this complete and utter loss you didn’t know how to deal with. But when you got up the following day and noticed small things were out of place, you didn’t really know what to do.

It went on like this for almost a week, you trying to cope with the fact that you would never meet your other half, along with these strange events. Sometimes you would walk into the living area, only to see your history books open and splayed out on the coffee table. Then the next moment you would be in the garden and you would hear footsteps next to you, like someone was walking through the foliage, only to turn and see no one there. But it all came to a head when you were awoken in the middle of the night - the first time you had managed to finally get some sleep - to the sounds of loud thuds and crashes coming from your living room. You leapt from your bed, and rushed into the room, shocked to see all of your books ripped from their shelves and tossed onto the floor. But the thing that set you off, that finally pulled at your last shred of sanity, was the photo album that lay open in the middle of it all. One of the pages floating back in its place slowly - as if someone had been leafing through the pages of memorabilia. You all but stomped over to the messy pile in the middle of the room, kneeling down to look at where the pages of the album had stopped moving, seeing only you and your parents smiling faces looking up at you. You felt a new wave of tears spill over and down your cheeks as you clutched at the book desperately, as if it would somehow ground you.

“What do you want?” you cry, looking up from the book and around your empty home, “Why can’t you just leave me alone?”

You didn’t expect a response, you knew that you were most likely crazy, seeing these things - these figments of your imagination as a way of trying to cope with what had happened. So, when you finally turned to look in front of you once more, you let out a small scream when you saw a figure standing there. You flung yourself backwards onto your butt, hands reaching out behind you to catch yourself as you took in the intruder in your living room. He was tall, taller than you at least, and he looked like he had just fought a war. His dark hair was mussed, he had several cuts and scrapes on his face, and his clothing - a beige shirt and dark pants and boots - were covered in dirt and had holes in them. But the thing that struck you the most, was that you could see right through him. It's like he was a vision, something here but not quite all the way, as you could see your dining room table through his figure.

“Where am I?” the figure asked, his voice snapping you from your observation and instead bringing you back to the first night this all started.

‘I’m so sorry’ - The words ring in your ears as this stranger repeats his question in the same voice that spoke those words to you a week ago.

“Hey!” his voice bites, the snapping of his fingers making you focus on him again, “Tell me where I am? How did I get here?” His voice was sharp, his accent unfamiliar to you, yet you find a small sense of calm wash over you as he barks his questions.

You sit up slightly, never taking your eyes from him as you finally speak, “You’re on Kaith,” you say simply, voice weak after days of disuse.

The man shakes his head, “I’ve never heard of it,” he says flatly.

“It’s a small planet...on the outer rim,” you offer quietly, watching as he seemingly mulls over the information.

You take this moment of silence to speak up once more, you feel like you know this man, despite never having seen him in your life. He just feels…. familiar.

“What’s your name?” You ask, voice barely above a whisper as you gaze up at him.

You see him open his mouth to answer, before it snaps shut, a look of complete and utter confusion taking over his features as he looks about the room frantically before his eyes return to you, “I don’t know,” he breathes.

And then he’s gone.

***

It’s a few more days before your unexpected house guest shows himself again. Things had been calmer since he had shown up, less things moving around and such. You supposed he was too busy trying to remember who he was. You had rushed over to Ada’s house the day after he had appeared, stumbling over your words as you tried to explain what had happened. She didn’t say much, just listened to you while holding your hand and giving you a knowing look the entire time. She didn’t tell you much after you had finished either, just telling you some cryptic line about how you should be open to this and try to communicate. You had left her house more confused than before but opted to try and talk to the strange apparition again.

But he beat you to it.

“Cassian.”

You gasped as the voice reached your ears, breaking the silence of your home as you were cutting up vegetables for dinner. You dropped the knife and turned around at the sound of the familiar voice, seeing the same man as before standing a few feet away from you in the small space of your kitchen. He looks slightly different this time around. He was still transparent, his clothes were still tattered, and his face was still scuffed up, but his hair was neatly styled, combed to the side. He was looking at you intently, hands in his pockets as he waited for you to say something.

“What?” was all you managed to get out.

He chuckled slightly, and you tried to ignore the butterflies it created in your belly, before he spoke up once more, “My name,” he said, “It’s Cassian.”

You nod your head slowly, taking in the information for a moment before gaining the courage to speak again. You tell him your name, taking notice of the small smile that graces his lips as he repeats it, telling you it’s nice to officially meet you.

“Why are you here?” you blurt out, your curiosity getting the better of you, “I just want to understand.”

You see Cassian go stiff for a moment, before letting out a breath, running his hand through his neatly styled hair, “I don’t know,” he admits, “I don’t even know how I got here - I don’t understand what’s happening,” he sounds desperate now, confusion and panic lacing his words, “When I’m here, with you, it feels real - but then when I’m not it feels like a dream, like I’m floating in space,” he tries to explain.

You watch as he takes a few steps towards you closing the distance and you can really see the panic in his eyes, as he tries to find reasoning behind what’s happening, “Am I dead? Is this a dream? Please, you have to he-”

And then it’s like his voice is carried away in the wind along with him. You blink, trying to make sense of what the hell just happened, why this stranger just keeps appearing and disappearing out of thin air. Why he’s appearing to you, why he’s appearing at all. But you can’t seem to come up with an answer. At least not right now.

***

You’re crying when he appears again.

Curled up in your bed as the emptiness in your chest takes over once again. Since your soulmate died, you’ve had good days and bad, usually more bad than good - but today was especially tough for some reason. You had woken up from a dream cheeks damp with your tears as your mind haunted you with flashes of your soulmate even though you had never met them - but what had made it even more confusing was that it was Cassian’s face that kept appearing in your dreams. You hadn’t moved from your bed the rest of the day, alternating between waking moments filled with tears and grief, and sleeping moments mercifully filled with nothing but inky blackness.

Cassian had appeared in one of the waking moments.

You were surprised slightly when you felt a gentle sensation on your ankle, you looked down to see Cassian sitting at the foot of your bed, hand ghosting across your ankle in a comforting gesture. You also noticed that he looked different again, his clothes looked brand new, his hair was styled, but he still had the scrapes dusted along his forehead and cheekbone - and he was still transparent.

“Why do you cry so much?” he asks softly, eyes filled with concern as he gazed at you.

Part of you didn’t know if you wanted to tell him what was wrong, the rational part of you telling yourself that you didn’t know this man. But a smaller part of you, a part that you couldn’t really explain told you that you did know him. You could trust him - you were connected somehow.

“My soulmate died,” you whispered, bottom lip wobbling as you forced the words out.

Something flashed in Cassian’s eyes, a flicker of emotion you couldn’t quite catch before it disappeared and he spoke once more, “Were you together for long?”  

You looked away from him then, shaking your head and wiping at the stray tears that fell from your eyes, “I hadn’t even met them yet,” you confess, “but I felt it when they died - and it’s like a part of me died too.”

You bring your eyes back to the man at the end of your bed and you take in a deep breath, “Did you have a soulmate?” you ask quietly, voice barely a whisper, yet Cassian heard it with ease.

That one question seemed to confirm the thought you both had. You said did - past tense. Cassian was dead. The one thing he had feared since he had shown up in your home. But despite his fear at this revelation, he doesn’t disappear, he tries to stay - for you.

So he shakes his head, “I mean I think I did,” he begins, “But I hadn’t met mine either,” he admits, his gaze falling to something in the distance as a wistful look crosses his features.

You speak up one last time, “What’s your last name?” you blurt, bringing his attention back to you, “You told me your first name, but never your last.”

A small smile graces his lips, and for the first time since he’s started appearing to you, you see him start to fade away slowly. You sit up quickly, afraid he’s going to leave again without answering your question but as he finally fades from sight, a light whisper and warm breath fans over your ear.

“Andor”

***

You sat in your garden, staring at your holopad, the information on one, Captain Cassian Jeron Andor staring back up at you. This is why you wanted his last name, to see if you could find out who he was, what he was doing here, and if you could help him. However, the more you read, the more things started to make sense, and it confirmed your fleeting thoughts since the day your soulmate had died. The fact that Cassian showed up when he did corresponded with his date of death and your soulmates, the event starting on that day you lost your other half, neither of you having met your soulmate...it all made sense now.

Cassian Andor - Rebel pilot and intelligence officer, hero of the rebellion who valiantly gave his life for the rebellion in order to save the galaxy - was your soulmate.  

“I’m sorry,” the familiar voice appeared again.

This time you didn’t flinch, but as you looked over at him, sitting cross-legged next to you in your small garden, you couldn’t help the surprise that you felt. He looked good. Even though you had acknowledged long ago that he was handsome, you could really see it now. It looked like he had never seen battle at all, he was clean, no cuts or scrapes, clean clothes...and most shockingly, he was solid. You couldn’t see through him like before. It was like he was right here with you, and maybe, the fates were being merciful and giving you one real moment with the half you lost.

You set the holopad off to the side, opting instead to reach over to him slowly, afraid that one wrong move and you would lose him all over again. But as he met you halfway, his larger hand enveloping your much smaller one, you knew you would get this last moment with him.

You couldn’t help the tears that fell when you felt the warmth coming off of him, or the smell of blaster fire and spice that invaded your senses. You took in a shuddering breath as he pulled you into him, his own warm tears dampening your shirt as he tucked his face into the crook of your neck.

“I know this is crazy,” you gasp, “But I love you Cassian Andor.”

Cassian pulled away from you at your words, cradling your face in his hands and wiping away your tears, “I’m sorry,” he whispered again, “I was selfish.”

Despite your tears, you let out a small chuckle, “I think sacrificing yourself for the good of the galaxy isn’t selfish Cassian.”

But he shakes his head, ���But I didn’t even think about you - about us,” he insists.

You place one of your hands over his own that's still resting on your cheek, “What’s done is done,” you say quietly, “I still love you, no matter what.”

Cassian doesn’t respond, his eyes just dance across your features, aware that this may be the last time he gets to see you, before he’s pulling you to him, sealing his lips to yours. Your hands come up to his cheeks, resting there gently relishing in the feeling of the scruff under your fingertips. Your tears mix with his where your lips meet as you both pour all of your emotion into one single action. You can feel his hands drop from your face down to your waist griping at you desperately.

“I love you too,” the whispers against your lips, breath warm as it fans over you.

Your words come out in a whimper, “Cassian-” and you open your eyes, more tears spilling over as you are met with empty space, the smell of Gunsmoke and spice lingering in the air where he was just moments ago.

Cassian’s gone.

///

Also i know Cassian isn’t force sensitive or whatever so like technically he couldn’t appear as a ghost in canon but i just wanted angst okay xD. so please ignore that small detail.

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[soprano193]

Not a Couple

Chapter 9

Maura:

Waking in Paris without Jane was expected. A day earlier, Maura would have thought Jane would wake her, and they'd share a tearful goodbye as she took a taxi to the airport for her early flight. She hadn't expected the turn their last night would take, the way the light reflected off Jane's skin making her glow, her smile warm and inviting. If Maura could have stopped everything at that moment, she would have. Instead, she had kissed Jane, making her run away. Her closest friend ignored her pleas to come back, her hand covering her mouth as she backed away. In the hotel room she slept, her head under the blankets, so Maura couldn't see her face. And in the morning Maura awoke to a note on the pillow. I hope you can forget this someday. It was cryptic. Much with Jane was sometimes hard to understand at first. But now Maura didn't know if she could reach out and get the explanation. She was left feeling lost. She repeated those seven words like a mantra, trying to figure her friend out. In the taxi to the airport. I hope you can forget this someday. While sitting next to the snoring man in the window seat. I hope you can forget this someday. In the silent cab ride to her house. I hope you can forget this someday. And as she unpacked, finding Jane's worn Garciaparra t-shirt wrapped up in her laundry. I hope you can forget this someday. Sitting on her bed, Jane's Red Sox shirt in her hand, Maura let her tears fall. She didn't want to forget.

The next morning, after another fitful night of sleep, she made her way downstairs. Before she had time to process it, she was wrapped in the arms of her pseudo-mother, the Italian woman laughing as she tightened her grip. "Oh Maura, I missed you girls so much!" She pressed a loud kiss to Maura's cheek, making the Doctor smile.

Despite knowing the care behind the gesture, Maura couldn't help but stiffen. She wasn't quite upset enough for the touch to make her skin crawl, but the woman's embrace was enough to make Maura uncomfortable. When Angela let go, Maura felt like she could breathe again. "Hello, Angela! I've missed you, too." Her response was careful, just cheery enough to make Angela happy and not ask any questions.

The older woman beckoned her over to the island, where Maura saw a plate and steaming cup ready. "I made you breakfast and some tea." Sitting, Maura noticed Angela had made her famous bunny pancake, its face complete with a smile that was unnatural for the species, but adorable on a pancake. Angela leaned on the counter across from Maura, watching her with anticipation. Although Maura wasn't interested in eating, she took a bite off the ear, faking a smile in the other woman's direction. Angela seemed to take the bait, relaxing, and wiping the counter. "It's not a fresh croissant with jam, but I thought it was better than nothing."

"Thank you." Maura took another bite and sipped her tea. She tossed another smile at Angela, hoping she looked natural. "Did Jane text you? Did she make it home alright?"

"She didn't tell you?"

Maura's palms began to perspire. That was the wrong question to ask. Thinking on her feet, Maura began to talk. "Well, I was flying when she landed, so I'm sure she wasn't thinking about me."

It took a moment, but Angela began to nod at the explanation. "Makes sense." Maura breathed out as she spoke, thankful for the simple explanation, thankful that she didn't need to get into the longer explanation. Abandoning the towel, Angela leaned forward, the corners of her mouth pulled upward. "So tell me. How was Paris?"

It was the one question she knew was going to come up, but didn't want to answer. Her mind wandered back to Paris, catching Jane's face in the hall of mirrors, or the way her eyes shone in the lights of the Tower at night, laughing with her in the catacombs, and the little moments alone together in their room. Then she heard those words in the back of her mind. I hope you can forget this someday. Looking down at the pancake she didn't want to eat, she answered. "Paris was really fun. Jane told me she sent you pictures."

"Well she did, but she didn't say much."

Sighing, Maura took one last bite of her pancake before pushing her chair back. "Well, I can tell you more later tonight. Right now, I need to head to work. I have to check in with Dr. Drake, and catch up on some of my more official business."

"But you just got home. Can't you take a day to relax?" Maura could hear the dejection in the older woman's voice. As much as she wanted to talk about her vacation with Jane, the memories were so potent and too painful.

"I relaxed for a month. I need to get back to work." Feeling sorry, Maura offered Angela a short hug, trying not to make it feel stiff. "We'll talk later."

True to her word, Maura dressed for work, picking out a blue and white patterned skirt and a navy blouse with ruffles down the front. Saying a final goodbye to her tenant, Maura rushed out the door and headed to her car.

Kent had been efficient in her absence. Their caseload was manageable, the techs had done adequate work, and Maura found only a few instances of speculation. Even her office looked untouched, everything exactly as she remembered it before she left. It bothered her that it brought her comfort. She started by familiarizing herself with the cases she had missed. Listening to Kent's autopsy and going over the evidence presented by Detectives helped her feel like she had actually been there.

She had been listening for an hour when Dr. Drake made his appearance, knocking softly at her door. Waving, he came to stand in front of her desk. "You're back! I thought you'd take a day to reset your internal clock."

"Well, jet lag is easier to overcome when flying west, so I don't think it will be a big deal." She gestured to the couch, feeling more comfortable when both were sitting. "It looks like things went well here. There isn't much I need to address." At his nod, Maura continued. "Thank you for running things to my standards."

"Of course." He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "So, how was Paris?"

"I kissed Jane." She blurted it out before she could stop it, watching the look on his face as she spoke. Excitement, followed by confusion, the same emotions she felt by the whole event. Placing her hands in the middle on her forehead, she slowly moved them outward, slowing her thoughts and grounding her to the present. "I'm sorry for dumping this on you."

"No, it's fine. You don't need to apologize." His words made her sigh out in relief, her posture relaxing. "I'm guessing Jane didn't react well?"

"Jane ran away. I tried to give her space, but she was sleeping when I got back to the room." Or pretending to. Her breathing wasn't as deep as it was when she slept. Maura hadn't pushed it, wanting to give her time to process her thoughts. Pushing would have only made things worse.

"I have to admit, that's not the reaction I thought Jane would have." At Maura's puzzled look, he continued. "I didn't think your feelings were one-sided, just not realized by either party."

"For a few days, I thought the same thing." She remembered all the times she'd caught Jane looking at her over their trip. The hairs on her arm stood up as she remembered her friend calling her gorgeous before their outing to Notre Dame. "I saw the look on her face in the hall of mirrors, her eyes sad, but there was something else there. She didn't take her eyes off me either like she was afraid I was leaving. And I swear, while looking at the stained glass at Notre Dame, she was looking at me when she said it was beautiful." She could still feel Jane's gaze now, boring a hole into her cheek. "But I've never been good with social cues. I must have missed something."

Leaning back into the couch, Kent let out a sigh. "I'm sorry, Maura."

She chuckled. "No need to apologize. It's not your fault." She traced the design in her skirt with her finger. "I was thinking. Whenever I don't know what to do in a social situation, I consult Jane. She doesn't judge me, and she explains things in a way I'll understand. This is the one situation where I couldn't consult her, so I'm not surprised that I've messed things up."

Kent's voice was soft, even, his attempt at keeping her calm. "Have you talked to her?" As Maura shook her head, he continued. "Well, you need to. The bond you two share is special. Even if I'm wrong and she doesn't feel the same, I believe you two can work past this."

Maura sat with his words, thinking about them as he stood. Thinking back to Paris, how domestic it had been, how normal their proximity felt, Maura wasn't sure she wanted to go back to just friendship. But considering the alternative led to the absence of Jane in her life, friendship was something she could settle on. Nodding, she addressed Kent as he left her office. "Thank you."

Back at home, she tried to return to some version of normalcy. With a plate of Angela's leftover risotto and a glass of wine, Maura settled at the table to read a medical journal. The only indication of the time changing was the steady emptying of her wine glass, and she was surprised when she heard the door open and close, signaling the end of Angela's shift. "Good! You're still awake!" She dropped her purse on the island and wrapped Maura in another tight embrace. Considering her chat earlier with Kent, Maura was feeling a bit better than she had been that morning and welcomed the contact with more ease.

"Would you like a glass? I've already had one." Maura pointed to the open bottle of wine still on the counter.

"No thanks. I'm meeting Ron for breakfast tomorrow." She did however get herself a glass of water, facing Maura from across the island. "So, tell me more about Paris. Did you two go to the Louvre?"

Maura swallowed, taking a moment to push her feelings for Jane to the side. She then smiled, remembering the artwork. "We did. I always seem to find something new that I like there each visit. This time I fell in love with the Lamassu."

Before she could start talking about the sheer age and condition of the statues, Angela interrupted, severing Maura's train of thought. "Did you see the Mona Lisa? Or the statue with no arms? I was so surprised that the Mona Lisa was so small."

Maura laughed. "We did. And Jane deduced that the Venus de Milo might have been dancing the hula."

This got Angela laughing. "Did she now?" So Maura decided to pull out her phone and look for the picture. She realized at once it was a bad idea. Scrolling through all those photos of Jane made compartmentalization much more difficult. When she found the picture, she passed the phone to Angela, who chuckled, her eyes tearing up. "I miss her." She began to flip through more pictures, and Maura was relieved that the last few they took were on Jane's phone and not hers. "It looks like you two had fun." She said it as she passed the phone back to Maura, her eyes searching the Doctor's face like she could see what Maura was hiding. It made her uncomfortable.

"We did." Standing with her plate and empty wine glass, she began to clean up her mess. "I hate to rush out on you again, but you have an early morning, and my body still doesn't know what time it is, so I'm finding myself tired."

Angela put her glass down, taking Maura's plate and shooing her away. "Don't worry, honey, I've got this. You go get some rest."

"Thank you. See you in the morning." Maura waited for the older woman's soft smile before leaving the room, walking up to her bedroom. Before changing, she sat on her bed and opened her phone, clicking on the familiar contact and typing out a quick message. Your Mom told me you arrived home safely. I hope things go well at Quantico. She placed her phone on the nightstand and changed into Jane's Red Sox shirt, climbing between the covers when done. Her phone chimed. Sorry I didn't let you know. I'm glad you're home safe. It was distant still, but it made Maura hopeful. Hopeful that they would again speak like they used to.

Maura was awoken early by a call to a crime scene. In a way, it was a relief that she wouldn't have to face Angela again in the morning. She also enjoyed the return to some sort of normalcy after a month away. The familiar hustle of a crime scene was oddly comforting. As she was let past the red tape, she took a cursory look as to what was inside. A woman, maybe thirty years of age, lying facedown on the living room floor, a large red puddle underneath her. About twenty feet away marked with a yellow placard, lay a handgun. Another young woman with dark hair cried in the corners near while talking to a uniformed officer. Nodding at them both, Maura knelt beside the victim. Brushing her dark hair aside, she saw bruising on the sides of her neck. Moving her shirt, she noticed the marks went down her back. Her heart fell as the story started to piece together.

"Detective Rizzoli." Someone said it in greeting, and Maura felt her breath hitch as she looked for the curly-haired woman. It shouldn't have surprised her to see Frankie instead, a redhead in plainclothes following right behind him. Pushing her disappointment to the side, Maura smiled and waved at the confidant man entering the crime scene.

"Maura! You're back!" He grinned, touching her shoulder as she remained crouched. "How was Paris?"

"Beautiful, as always." It was the answer she had rehearsed the whole way over, She stood, shedding her gloves and offering the man a hug. "How have things been here in Boston?"

"Business as usual." Turning, he waved his hand, urging the redhead closer. "Dr. Isles, this is my new partner, Detective Hyde."

She reached forward and grasped Maura's hand, her grip firm. "It's nice to meet you, Dr, Isles. Frank and Nina have told me all about you."

"Please, call me Maura. It's nice to meet you too, Detective Hyde."

The woman smiled, warmth shining through her bright blue eyes. "Linn. Short for Linnet."

Letting go of Linn's hand, Maura pulled out two new gloves from her pockets. "Pretty name, Welsh I believe?" The woman nodded, a knowing grin on her face. "It suits you." She bent down again, feeling the joints and examining the body. As she made her observations, she addressed the more senior detective. "Have you started wedding planning?"

Frankie chuckled at that, pulling out his phone. "Nina and her sisters have all that covered. They even made me a checklist, see?" He scrolled through an exhausting number of tasks to complete. "Nina wants to wait for Thanksgiving to go dress shopping. She wants to give Jane the chance to join."

"That's nice." Her answer was short. If Frankie realized, he didn't say anything or just thought she was busy with her observations.

"Don't tell her, but Nina wants her to be a bridesmaid."

For a moment, Maura pictured Jane standing next to Nina, a burgundy red dress hugging her curves, her hair in neat curls hanging by her shoulders. Maura had to fight to push the daydream away, reminding herself that she had a job to do. She looked up at Frankie, flashing him a reassuring look. "Don't worry. Your secret is safe with me."

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Work brought Maura a sense of relief. After a month off, she had a lot of managerial tasks and business to attend to, things Kent was not able to handle in his position. And it may have been wrong, but Maura began using work as a way to stay away from Angela. After a few days of dodging every question about Paris she asked, Maura found it was easier to work late on Angela's nights off or go to bed early when the older woman came home, citing an early day the next morning. This bought her a few more days avoiding questions. Now she only hoped that the interest would wear off.

After a week of being back, one day after work Maura fired up her fireplace and settled on the couch with a medical journal on her iPad and a cup of tea on the side table. Angela, who wasn't supposed to be home until late into the night, surprised her by plopping onto the couch next to her, holding out an envelope. "For you."

Her pseudo-mother looked serious, her face stoic, piquing the Doctor's interest. Inside she found two checks for nine-hundred dollars. She felt her eyebrows pull closer, and she studied the brunette sitting beside her. "Why are you giving me two months' worth of rent?"

"Ron's taking me on a road trip. I wanted to make sure you had next month's rent before I leave."

Shaking her head, Maura handed back one of the checks. "Angela, if you aren't going to be here, you don't need to pay."

"Nonsense." Angela was firm, placing the check back in Maura's lap. "Any other apartment would still charge me rent."

Maura held the check in her hand, her thumb spinning in circles at the top corner. Angela wanted to do this. She had almost left because she wanted to do this, to feel like she was self-sufficient. So swallowing her worry, Maura accepted the check, placing it back in the envelope with its twin. Looking back at the older woman, who was now beaming, Maura offered her a smile. "So, when do you leave?"

"In the morning. He won't tell me the destination, but he promised that we could spend time in DC so I could visit with Jane." If she noticed the stiffening of the Doctor at the mention of her best friend, she didn't say anything. "I actually can't chat for long, I have to finish packing." She gestured to the door behind her.

Nodding, Maura closed the cover of her iPad. "I should go to bed soon anyway. I have to drive to Worcester in the morning to interview candidates for Dr. Pike's position."

"You finally fired that guy?" Angela laughed, standing from the couch.

"Goodness, no. I can't stand him, but I had no reason to fire him." Maura stood, following her housemate to the door. "His wife got her dream job in Oklahoma, so they're moving."

"Well, I hope you find someone good."

"Me too." She opened the door. "Have a nice trip, Angela, I'll see you when you get back."

The woman surprised her again, wrapping her up in her arms, squeezing tight, her mouth right next to Maura's ear. "You know I love you, right?" At Maura's affirmative answer, her arms resting lightly around the woman's waist, she continued. "And you can talk to me about anything, even when I'm not here. Whenever you're ready."

At those words, Maura felt tears stinging in her eyes which she fought to keep from falling. Somehow she knew. This wasn't a surprise, but it helped to know that Angela didn't think any less of her. "I know. Thank you." Before pulling away, Angela pressed a kiss to Maura's cheek, the move maternal and completely natural to her. She offered a small smile before leaving through the door, allowing Maura to close it behind her.

Sitting on her bed, Maura sent another text. Your mother is leaving for a road trip tomorrow. She says she's going to visit you. As she changed into her own pajamas, Jane's shirt folded on top of her dresser, her phone chimed, alerting her to a response. Yeah. It will be nice to see a familiar face. Resting her head on her pillow, she typed, erased, and typed again until she figured out how to say best what she wanted to. I can always make time for a video chat if you need to see a familiar face. Satisfied, she sent it, putting her phone on her nightstand and rolling over, letting herself drift off to sleep.

The next morning she awoke, seeing a response from the previous night. I know, Maura. I'll keep that in mind.

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After another week of catching up, Maura's backed up work began to subside and she started seeing patients at MEND again. It was more work that she was grateful for, as it kept her out of her quiet apartment, and kept her mind occupied. More often, she was opting out of the nightly meet up at The Dirty Robber with the crew, and instead found herself examining increasingly difficult cases for the patients at MEND.

After a week of double duty, she was thrilled one day when they could wrap a case early and she could unwind at home. Saying goodbye to the Detectives, and forwarding her final report, she took a moment to enjoy the crisp air before making her way inside her home. Once inside, for the first time since returning from her trip, she found herself perusing her manuscript. Sitting at the island with a bottle of water, she refamiliarized herself with the story, and what she planned to do to improve it. Soon, Maura began to write, expanding her universe and trying to give her characters more depth.

It wasn't long before a knock at her front door interrupted her work. Maura glanced down at her phone, looking for a clue as to whom it could be. Closing the laptop, she went to answer the door. "Nina! What a lovely surprise." The Detective was still dressed for work, her badge hooked to her hip. She carried with her a pink box about the size of a shoebox. Moving aside, Maura allowed her friend to enter.

"Sorry for dropping by unannounced." She moved to lean against the island, depositing the box on the counter beside her. "I feel like I don't see you anymore."

With a guilty grimace, Maura clasped her hands in front of her. "I had a lot to catch up on after my trip. And MEND needs more help, especially with Hope overseeing the shortage of providers overseas, but when things calm down I'll…"

"Maura! It's okay, we understand." The younger woman's voice was forceful, stopping Maura's rambling. "I didn't mean to send you spiraling." She traced her fingers over the pink box. "I've just had this in my car for the last two weeks, waiting for the right time to give it to you."

Pointing, hesitant, Maura inched closer. "That's for me?"

Nina edged the box toward the Doctor. "Open it." Though confused, Maura closed the space between herself and the box and opened it. Pink tissue paper filled the empty space. Inside she found a small bottle of champagne, a silver necklace with a high-heeled shoe charm, and a glass candle jar, silver-grey lettering spelling out the word, 'bridesmaid'. Nina's smile was wide as Maura examined each item, unsure of what to say. The younger woman, thankfully, knew how to break the silence as Maura looked between her and the box. "So I'll take that as a yes?"

"Of course!" Maura leaned in at that moment, wrapping the shorter woman in her arms, delighted when she reciprocated. "I'm so honored you thought of me."

Pulling away, dark eyes met Maura's, their tone serious, but her face joyful. "Please, Maura. You welcomed me into your life with open arms. You made Boston feel like home." She giggled. "Plus, you're my karaoke buddy."

"Oh, I don't think I want to do that again. I'm not sure of the efficacy it had on my neural pathways."

Laughing, Nina pulled away from the counter, making Maura turn to face her. "You have to do it at least once!"

"I don't think I have to."

Nina pushed her lip out, pouting. "Not even for the bride?"

Maura hadn't been in a lot of weddings. In fact, she hadn't been in one. But she knew that historically, what the bride asked for, the bride got. With a shocked gasp, she cried out, "That's not fair!"

"I know!" Nina's laughter could only be described as maniacal, cackling as she walked toward the door. Maura moved with her, to see her out. Before Maura opened the door, Nina turned to look at her, face now serious, dark eyes kind. "You know, you need to maintain a healthy work/life balance. I understand needing to catch up, or fill in while Dr. Martin is away. But please, join us at the Dirty Robber at some point. We know that none of us are Jane, but we can still have fun."

Maura knew that her words intended to comfort her, but instead, they stung. Nina had seen through the charade. Hanging out with her friends meant acknowledging that things had changed. Maura didn't adapt well to change. With a reserved nod at the Detective, Maura opened the door to see her out. "I will try to make an appearance as soon as Hope is back in the states."

"I'd like that. Take care, Maura."

Maura waved before closing the door behind her friend. Checking the time, she took a moment to put the bottle of champagne away. Before leaving, she smelled the candle, an interesting mix of lavender and wild ginger, put her computer away, and attempted to push the image of both her and Jane standing up at the altar together out of her mind.

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It was a few days later during one of her rare days off that her birth mother's face flashed on her screen. "Hello?"

"Maura! How are you? How was your vacation?"

"I'm good. It was nice." Almost a month later, and the sting of the last few hours was still harsh. But it was easier to ignore as she thought back on happier memories. "How is Morocco?"

"Busy. I must admit, that is why I'm calling."

"Go on."

"Well, there's still a shortage of providers, and a nasty outbreak of influenza keeps us fully booked each day. It looks like I need to delay my trip home another two weeks."

"I'm sorry to hear that." Maura sat at her island, a notepad handy. "How can I help?"

"It's a bit of an odd request, I'm afraid." Maura could hear background noise decrease, as if Hope had stepped into an office. "Do you remember me mentioning opening another clinic in the United States in DC?" At Maura's hum of acknowledgment, she continued. "This great property just opened up. I planned to go see the site on Saturday when I returned. But now I'm stuck here, and I'm worried someone else will make an offer before I even get back to the States."

It took Maura a minute to register what she was asking. "So you want me to meet with the realtor?"

"Could you? Do you have the time? The only other person I trust is Cailin, and she's busy with class. I know you wouldn't steer me wrong. I can pay for your hotel, and get your ticket."

"I have miles. You don't need to buy my ticket."

Hope let out a sigh on the other end of the phone. "Maura, I can't thank you enough for doing this."

"It's no problem. I needed an excuse to go to DC anyway." Her mind drifted to Jane's t-shirt, still folded on top of her dresser.

"Thank you. I'll email you all the details, along with a list of questions to ask, feel free to ask your own if you think of any." Maura heard muffled voices in the background. "I need to go now, my next appointment is here."

"Okay. Stay safe, and I'll see you when you get home." When the call ended, Maura stopped what she was doing and went upstairs to pack. She wouldn't let a last-minute trip leave her unprepared. She planned on three days, pulling out outfits for each day. She grabbed her smaller suitcase, one suitable for the overhead bins, and placed it on the bed. The first thing she packed was Jane's Garciaparra shirt. It gave her a reason to visit, hopefully showing Jane that life was better off when they were on speaking terms.

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Her flight on Saturday left at eight in the morning, getting her in the Capital around 10. After waiting around for her rental car, she had only a few minutes to refresh in her hotel room before rushing out to meet the realtor.

The property was nice, a square building with plenty of parking surrounding it. Maura noticed several bus stops along the way that meant it would be accessible to people who relied on public transportation. She parked in a spot behind the two cars, figuring one was the realtor. The other car was idling. Upon exiting her vehicle, the voice she heard made her eyes go wide. "Ma, just get in the car! You can tell me all about the turtle or tortoise later!" Unable to believe what she was hearing, Maura walked in front of her vehicle to glance between the two that she was parked behind. Angela leaned against the white car, her eyes looking down at her phone. Jane, with her curls pulled back into a loose ponytail, stood at the door of the idling car, her hand on the handle.

"Angela? Jane? What are you guys doing here?" Maura could feel her eyebrows furrowing as she took in the sight before her.

Angela reacted fast, her mouth dropping open, as she moved to hug the Doctor. "Maura! What are you doing here?" She wrapped the blonde in a tight grip, her face now hidden from view. But Maura was more interested in Jane's reaction.

Jane watched her Mother, her eyes flickering with anger, her mouth slightly ajar. She thought something was up. But as she looked at Maura, her expression softened, anger was replaced with worry. She flashed a shy smile that made Maura's stomach flip. "Hi, Maur. Fancy meeting you here. In this random parking lot."

Maura stepped back, making Angela pull away. Gesturing toward the empty building, Maura addressed the older woman first. "Hope sent me here. She wants me to look at this office, and determine if it's a good spot for another MEND clinic." Turning to address Jane, she continued. "I was going to call you after my showing."

"You don't have to explain yourself."

"It's not an explanation, it's the truth." While others may have been surprised by Maura's blunt reply, Jane didn't blink, and answered with a nod. Encouraged by this, Maura continued. "My plane landed two hours ago. Hope called me just a few days ago. None of this was well planned, so I wanted to call you when I was settled."

The brunette nodded, shoulders relaxing. "I believe you. Sorry."

Next to her, Angela typed away at her phone, typing in an address to her phone's GPS. "Jane! Ron said he found a store with a new GPS. It's straight down this road, I can't miss it." She put her phone in her pocket and walked over to her daughter, wrapping her in a hug and pressing a kiss to her cheek. Jane pulled away from the contact, her face scrunched and her eyes narrowed as her mother made her escape. "I need to go get it, he said there's only one left and I don't want someone else to buy it first."

"Ma, I drove here to get you. You're just gonna leave me?" Jane held her hands open, waiting for an explanation.

"You're not alone! You have Maura!" She opened her door. "We can get dinner, and I can see your new apartment tomorrow."

Jane sighed, crossing her arms. "Okay. Drive safe, Ma."

As Angela began to pull out of the parking lot, a red SUV pulled in. Maura gestured to it. "That's probably my guy."

Jane hesitated for a moment as if deciding what to say. "Yeah. So you're busy. Maybe we can do something tomorrow." She reached for her handle again.

"Jane, wait." The last time Maura had said those words, Jane ran. This time, she stopped, turning once more to face the Doctor. "Why don't you come in with me. I can't see this taking long, and I would love to grab lunch after. You know the good places to eat around here."

"What makes you think that?" Her tone was hesitant, but she wore a faint smile on the corner of her lips. Maura longed to turn the faint smile into an overt one, even just for a moment.

"Please. It's been a month. Your fridge ratio is probably seventy-thirty take out containers to fresh food."

This made the Instructor laugh, and Maura could feel some of the tension between them release. "You still know me so well."

Maura laughed along with her, letting the tension clear and relishing in the sound. It had been too long. "Of course I do. We haven't changed." She hoped the message was clear. Nothing had to change.

Whether Jane found it comforting was unclear. The taller woman nodded, eyes downcast. "I guess we haven't." She reached for the car door again, this time opening it, leaning in, and turning the car off. She pocketed her keys and gave the Doctor a curt nod. With a wave of her arms, she gestured toward the building and the waiting man. "After you."

The man was shorter in stature, dark skin, and black hair, but he seemed friendly enough as they approached. "Dr. Isles?" At her nod, he continued, thrusting out his hand. "Dave Ganem, it's nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you too. This is my friend, Jane. She's going to join us for the viewing. Do you mind if I record this? It will make things easier when I have to send my recommendations to my M… To Dr. Martin." She wondered if he caught the label she almost dropped, one she still wasn't sure how she felt about Hope using. A glance in Jane's direction told her she had caught on, her eyes soft with a dimpled grin. It made Maura's stomach flip again, and she tried to remember if she'd had this reaction every time Jane had given her that same look.

Mr. Ganem's voice interrupted her thoughts. "Of course not. Feel free to take videos and photographs, too." Pulling a key from his pocket, he unlocked the doors and led them inside. "Let's get started."

The building must have been used once already for medical purposes. There were fifteen dedicated exam rooms, a few rooms large enough for some imaging equipment, and three dedicated office spaces. Maura discovered that they were a twenty-minute drive away from a hospital, that the previous owners had decided to retire, and that the area received a lot of foot traffic. She had Jane and Mr. Ganem have a conversation in one exam room while trying to listen from the other room, noting that she could not make it out. Considering how loud she knew her friend could be, this was a pro in her mind. Aside from the electrical issue with the fan in the bathroom, all the building needed was a fresh coat of paint.

"Thank you, Mr. Ganem. I will have Dr. Martin review all of this, but I'm sure she'll be in touch." She shook his hand and offered him a warm smile.

"I look forward to it. It was so nice to meet you both." While shaking hands with Jane, he gave her a knowing look. "The Yankees are going all the way this year."

Jane chuckled, and Maura imagined she squeezed his hand a little harder. "In your dreams, pal."

They both laughed as they pulled away from each other, Jane's head shaking as she turned to walk toward their cars. Her hand fell to the small of Maura's back as they walked, the touch sending shivers up Maura's spine. She longed to lean back into it, to reciprocate somehow, but words started flashing in her head. I hope you can forget this someday. Afraid to scare Jane as she was becoming more comfortable, Maura opted to continue as if she hadn't noticed. "Of course you two discussed sports."

"Well, you put me in a room with a guy I don't know and ask me to talk to him about something. What did you expect?"

"I guess you have a point." Maura giggled, shaking her head. As they walked, her stomach let out an audible growl. "I haven't eaten since I had that Danish at Logan."

Stopping at her car, Jane dropped her hand from Maura's back and started playing with her keys in her other hand. "Okay. We're right down the road from Black Market." Maura couldn't help but imagine a dark alley with people selling food dressed in trenchcoats. Jane must have registered the puzzled expression because she clarified with a snort. "It's a bar, Maur. It reminds me of home."

"Oh! That makes sense. Okay, I'll follow you."

They parked next to each other at the bar. Maura took a moment to shoot Hope a text, saying to jump on the place, and that more info would come later. Jane waited by the car until she was done, and then led the way up the walkway and into the building.

Maura understood why Black Market reminded Jane of home. The set up was very similar to the Dirty Robber. The lighting was dim, booths were set up along the windows, the bar itself was long. Instead of nautical decorations, the ones here seemed to be focused on police and FBI memorabilia. Jane picked the seat that would have been their booth back home. As Maura looked over the menu, Jane ordered their drinks. "It's a nice place."

"It's far enough away from campus that I don't usually see recruits here."

"It's more than that." She put down the menu, having decided what to eat, and took the opportunity to look Jane in the eye. "It's familiar. I mean, you chose our spot."

Jane's mouth perked up on one side at that comment. "You noticed."

"How could I miss it?" It seemed like Jane wasn't sure what to say, as she played with the napkin that wrapped up her silverware. So Maura decided to pull the conversation along. "How is Quantico?"

"I like it a lot more than I thought I would." They paused to order food, and for Maura to butter up a bread roll to calm her growling stomach. "Right now I'm mostly observing. Which I'm thankful for, considering I've never taught, but a few instructors have allowed me to teach some modules, and it's amazing."

"You have taught. You taught Frankie everything he knows."

Jane snorted, grabbing a roll and taking a bite before answering. "I taught Frankie a lot. But he was a group effort. How is he doing?"

"He seems to be doing well. His new partner, Hyde, is different."

"Different how?" Jane leaned forward with anticipation.

"She's soft. Her face is soft, her demeanor is warm, she's even soft-spoken." Thinking back to the squad room a few months ago, Linnet Hyde varied in every possible way from the people who had left. "It's not bad per se, but it is amusing to watch her try to play mean cop while Frankie is being nice cop."

"You mean good cop/bad cop?"

With a scoff, Maura took the correction. "Yes. You know what I mean." They continued their conversations through their meal, both skirting around any mention of Paris with apparent ease. Jane reminded Maura to work less and connect with people, showing that she had been in touch with people from back home, and they had talked about her. Maura asked about her new workout routine now that she wasn't chasing down criminals. And Jane filled her in on the few new friends she was making, some instructors and a neighbor. Jane picked up the tab, despite Maura's protestations, and they remained seated, neither ready to leave. "I've missed this." Maura began carefully, testing things out, wondering if Jane was ready for a bigger conversation. "Talking to you, I mean."

"Yeah." Jane's eyes went downward again, the Instructor avoiding the Doctor's gaze. "I think this is the longest we've gone without speaking."

"I think you're right." Their fight after the Doyle shooting had only lasted about ten days and had been agonizing. Things had been said on both sides then, things said in anger, that both were too stubborn to apologize for. Now things needed to be said. Watching as Jane played with the condensation on the outside of her cup, her refusal to meet Maura's eye, Maura backed off. "Let's not let it get like this again." She reached for her friend's hand, making her look up, and Maura flashed her a smile meant to reassure. "Can we agree to at least weekly Skype calls?"

Jane squeezed her hand back, making her stomach flip for the third time that day. "I think I can fit you into my schedule."

Walking back to their cars, Maura prepared herself to say goodbye. But a glimpse at Jane's Red Sox keychain reminded her of the Garciaparra shirt in her bag. "I have something that belongs to you!" She blurted, making Jane's eyes grow wide with amusement. "It's at my hotel."

Glancing at her watch, Jane played with her keys in her hand. "I have time. I'll follow you."

The ride to the hotel took longer, with it situated just outside the city. And Jane parked further away, so Maura had to wait at the door. She didn't seem like she was in a rush, typing on her phone as she walked. As she slipped her phone in her pocket, she followed Maura through the lobby and into the elevator. She was close, as close as they had been leaving the medical office, but this time her hand wasn't in the small of Maura's back. The Doctor began to wonder if it was normal to crave that contact.

Her hotel room was on the fourth floor, two doors down from the elevator, a real convenient spot. She opened the door with her room key and held the door open, inviting Jane in. "It's still in my bag. I think it got mixed in with my laundry in Paris." She began digging through her bag, knowing it was underneath the rest of her belongings. "I was going to return it at Thanksgiving. But this trip presented me with a different option." Grasping the cotton shirt, She turned with a triumphant grin to had it to the waiting Instructor.

Jane's eyes grew wide and her mouth dropped as she unfolded it and looked at the number on the back. "Nomah!"

"I don't think that's english."

Jane laughed, a grateful smile gracing her lips as she ran her fingers over the shirt. "No, it's Nomar. His first name, but you have to say it with your most obnoxious Boston accent. It's like a rule or something." Placing the shirt down on the table, she faced Maura and met her eyes, her smile soft and warm. "I've been looking for that shirt. Thank you, Maur." And then Jane pulled her into a hug.

Long arms wrapped around her, and Maura swore she stopped breathing. Jane's hair tickled the side of her face, and Maura had to stop picturing what it would be like to run her fingers through Jane's wild mane. The scent of lavender and honeysuckle brought a sense of warmth that she wasn't anticipating. And yet all she could think of were those words. I hope you can forget this someday. So instead of reciprocating, Maura stiffened.

Jane realized it after about four seconds, backing away, her head down. "Um. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that." She allowed Maura to back up, Which she did until her calves met the back of an armchair. Sitting, she took deep breaths, trying to calm herself down, wondering when her cheeks had become wet. Jane looked at her when she heard the noise. Maura was nervous she'd run again, or that the progress they'd made earlier would be negated. Instead, Jane sighed, sitting at the foot of the bed. "Maura, I'm sorry. Please don't cry."

She didn't stop. Though she found it ironic that the one person who truly helped her feel better when she cried, was now the cause of it. Taking steadying breaths, she allowed herself to ask the question that had been plaguing her for a month. "What did you want me to forget?"

Brown eyes grew wide with recognition, the grimace in her face and the way she shrunk indicating that she was ashamed. "I didn't mean…"

"I mean, I've been saying those words over and over in my head all month trying to figure it out. Because I don't want to forget Paris. We had so much fun, and did so much laughing, and I felt like our relationship grew in response. And I can't forget you, Jane. You're in most of my happiest memories, you've been there during the worst parts of my life, and you're a person I picture still being around in my future. The thought of forgetting you is unbearable, Jane." That particular interpretation of the note was her biggest fear, the one her mind liked to tell her was most likely.

"I don't want that." Jane's voice sounded small, without it's usual gravitas, but she straightened her shoulders as she spoke. It showed some confidence in her words.

"Well, we went almost a month without communication, you can't blame me for thinking that."

"I know. But that's not what I meant." She looked away, her hands folded on her knees. Taking a deep breath in, and letting it out, she continued. "I wanted you to forget the kiss." The kiss. Maura didn't think she ever would. The lamplight that lit up her face in such a beautiful way, the river lapping in the background, the way they fit together perfectly, the feel of Jane's hands on her hips, how she felt like she was on fire, how suddenly everything made sense. Every moment of that kiss she wanted to remember forever. Jane's voice in the room pulled her back to the present. "I wanted you to forget being ashamed."

This made Maura's eyebrows knot together, her gaze focusing on the profile of Jane's face. "What makes you think I was ashamed?"

Jane's eyes rolled as she met Maura's gaze. "I'm a cop, Maura, I know what shame looks like. You looked down and away from me. You covered part of your face. You were ashamed."

Maura thought back to that night, remembering the immediate aftermath, the disappointed anguish flashing in Jane's eyes. "I wasn't ashamed of you." She met Jane's gaze for those words, hopeful that she would believe them. "I was ashamed of myself."

"Why in the world would you be ashamed of yourself?"

"For a number of reasons. First and foremost, you were romantically linked to someone else."

This made Jane scoff. "You were ashamed because of Davies?" Maura chuckled as she nodded, letting go of the tension in her body. "Let me clear that up for you. Davies texted me once before we left, and then I accidentally ignored him for a month. Toward the end of that month, I realized it wasn't gonna work between the two of us. Which only became more obvious once I locked lips with you."

Maura's stomach twisted in knots. "I didn't want to be the cause of that."

"It would have happened whether we kissed or not. I would have had the same problems with him that I had with Casey. Or Dean."

"Gabriel." Maura had to laugh as Jane cringed. The brunette joined in the laughter, and Maura could feel the unease begin to lift from the air between them. "Can I admit something to you?"

"At this point, I think you can tell me anything." She sat straighter on the edge of the bed, turning to face the blonde, giving her full attention.

Now it was Maura's turn to look away, afraid of how her words would be received. "It was a few months ago that I realized that my feelings for you went deeper than a normal friendship. Paris was harder on me than I thought it would be. Everything we did was so domestic, and it made me start thinking of how things could be all the time." She looked up briefly, finding the Instructor still looking at her, her eyes filled with adoration. Finding it too much, Maura looked away again. "I also realized a few months ago that if I acted on my feelings it would change everything. So that night, when I kissed you, I was ashamed at myself, for going back on my promise, and for working against my own self interests. I didn't want to change anything." She looked up to see Jane biting back her lips, like she was holding something in. Maura offered a shy smile, and began running her finger over the pattern on the armchair. She could hear her heart beating in her ears.

"So I guess it's my turn." The brunette was abrupt, crossing her legs and leaning forward. "At some point in Paris, I realized that things weren't going to work out between between me and Davies because I was falling for you." As Jane spoke, Maura looked at her, her peripheral vision going blank as she focused. "Like, really falling, Maura. I kept getting jealous of the husband you don't have." It was the laughter sob that revealed to Maura that she was crying again as she listened to her best friend speak, and she delighted in the smile that graced the brunette's face. "So when we kissed, I thought things between us were changing, and then when I saw your face, I was upset. And I reacted badly to that. It wasn't fair to you, and I'm sorry for that."

Maura nodded accepting the apology and taking it all in. After a long pause between the two of them, Maura asked the question at the forefront of her mind. "Do you still want things to change between us?"

Brown eyes blinked in disbelief. "Are you being serious?" At Maura's nod, a huge dimpled grin stretched wide across her face. "Yeah, I want things to change. Do you?"

Maura felt her breath hitch. "I would be amenable to that."

It wasn't even all the way out of her mouth before Jane was moving, closing the space between them. She cupped Maura's face in her hands and brought their lips crashing together, her fingers coming up to wipe tears from Maura's face. It was a move laced with such adoration and intimacy that Maura almost added more to her cheeks. Jane moved from her lips, peppering kisses down her jaw and along her cheek. She stopped briefly to whisper in Maura's ear, sending shivers down her spine. "All these years, and I still can't get a simple yes or no?"

Her hands on Jane's waist, she pulled down so she was sitting on her lap. "Yes." She husked into Jane's ear before peppering kisses down into her neck. She used her hands to pull out Jane's ponytail, finally allowing herself to run her fingers through her dark hair. Jane took advantage of her new position to run her fingers over Maura's back. Maura imagined this was what it felt like for every neuron in her body to fire at once. There wasn't an inch of her that wasn't electrified by Jane's touch, buy the brush of Jane's lips, by the sounds she was making as she gave in to her inhibitions.

Maura was upset she had to stop them, saying Jane's name a few times with some force. "I hate to bring this up right now of all times, but aren't you supposed to meet your mother for dinner?"

Jane chuckled, her grin seductive. "I rescheduled in the parking lot. Told her we were catching up." Her hands slid under Maura's blouse, touching bare skin and sending a new wave of pleasure through her body. "I did not tell her that we were catching up on eight years of missed opportunity."

"That's probably wise." Maura chuckled, launching back at Jane's lips.

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Maura woke to a languid kiss, a hand caressing her bare hip. Reaching for her lover, she was disappointed to find her clothed. "Where are you off to?"

"Breakfast with my Mother and Ron. And I have to bring her by the apartment."

Maura sat up, pushing her hair out of her face. "Give me a minute, I can get dressed."

But Jane sat on the bed, taking her hands and drawing all Maura's attention to her. "Not this time, Maura." She must have seen the hurt that she tried to hide, because a hand came up to her cheek, running down it in a soothing motion. "Not that I'm ashamed. I'm not. I just wanna keep this between us for a bit. It's special."

"It is." Maura agreed, yawning. "But I can keep it a secret."

Jane smiled, that big dopey smile that made Maura's heart melt. "It's not you I'm worried about. It's me." She leaned in, landing another slow yet hungry kiss. She pulled away, biting her lip. "I'm not sure I can keep my hands off you."

"That could be revealing." Maura laughed, the sound breathy as she allowed herself to wake, adjusting to her new reality. She pulled Jane in again, reveling in the pull in her gut as their lips met, Jane's moan setting her aflame. But she soon pulled away, muttering apologies, her hand lingering on Maura's face longer than necessary.

"I'll text you when I'm done. You can come over, we can order takeout, it will be like old times."

Maura grinned. "No. It'll be better."

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"Jane, is Thanksgiving really the best day to make this announcement?" They were lying in Maura's bed, naked, Jane typing away at her phone, seemingly oblivious to Maura's gaze.

"Thanksgiving is the day that we tell people what we're thankful for. What better day is there to say that I am thankful for my brilliant and incredibly gorgeous girlfriend?" She looked over then, her grin dimpled as she studied Maura's face.

"And you want to do it like this? A Facebook post to reveal the secret we've been keeping for the last five weeks?"

She thought about it for a moment, searching Maura's face like she was gauging her reaction. "I figured why not? Just rip off the Band-aid."

Looking her girlfriend over, she pulled away the covers, searching for something that had been unseen. "What Band-aid? Jane, what did you do?"

Instead of the answer she was looking for, the body in front of her began to shake with laughter. "Babe, it's an expression. I don't have a Band-aid." Maura couldn't help but laugh along with her, climbing back up to cuddle beside her. "It means that I think we should get it all done at once, instead of telling people sporadically."

"Oh." Her hands traced circles in Jane's toned stomach, her head rested on her shoulder.

"Is that okay with you?"

Maura went through the people in her life that needed to know. Most of them were connected to Jane in some way or another. The only ones who weren't were her parents. Her Mother was in Italy, working with someone on her next installation, and her Father was back in Africa, doing research on more indigenous tribes. It wasn't fair to put off the announcement so she could tell them in person. Grabbing her phone, She nodded. "Yes. As long as it's what you want."

Jane grinned, hitting the button to change their status, and Maura accepted the notification on her end. Jane took that time to change her profile picture. Maura had never seen it. The picture they took on the bridge, with Jane looking at the camera, but Maura looking adoringly at her face. "You were right, the lighting and everything that night made for a gorgeous photo."

"That wasn't the only reason I thought it would be gorgeous." Jane shot back, flashing that lopsided grin.

Their phones buzzed, the first comment from Frankie. Fucking finally! They shared a laugh at that, Jane shooting back with, Language, Francesco!

Dropping her phone on the nightstand, Jane rolled over, pulling the Doctor closer. Pressing a chaste kiss to her lips, she grinned. "Happy Thanksgiving."

"Happy Thanksgiving." Maura relished this, just being together. It was a long weekend, which meant Jane could visit longer, but she would still have her job to return to Monday morning. Maura was finding herself growing tired of the back and forth, but was hopeful that their plan would be put into action soon. With just a few loose ends to tie up today, she hoped the day when they could lie together like this every morning would come soon.

It wasn't long before their bliss was interrupted. She heard the door slam downstairs, Angela's hurried footsteps pounding on the floor. She stopped at the foot of the stairs. "Girls! Get down here, you have some explaining to do!"

Beside her, Jane giggled. "That took longer than I expected." She pulled herself from Maura's grip, rummaging in the suitcase she hadn't unpacked. While Maura found a pair of sensible silk pajamas to put on, Jane yanked on an FBI t-shirt and a pair of BPD sweatpants. Maura couldn't help but laugh at the pair of them. Yin and Yang, different as could be, but so perfect together. "You ready to face the music?"

She went up on her toes to press a kiss to the brunette's lips. "We can get through this."

"And if it gets bad, we have wine." This made them both laugh, holding hands as Jane turned toward the door.

It was then that Maura noticed the three words on the back of the shirt, the one purchased at the airport months ago. Female Boob Inspector. "Jane!" She hissed. "You can't wear that shirt downstairs!"

With a devilish grin, Jane shrugged her shoulders. "Well, it's kinda true now." Without waiting for a response, the brunette opened the door and rushed down the hall, shouting, "coming, Ma!"

Maura was definitely going to need wine.

[memoriashell]

the luck of the draw ( surely is not in her favor )

Characters /  Pairing: Fukawa Touko / Naegi Komaru ( focused ), ft. ( some of ) Class 78

crossposted on ao3

Notes: day two of @tokomaruweek, i'm combining the killing game and talentswap prompts!! it’s still before midnight i’m totally not late at all here,

featuring my totally not original talent / roleswap luck student komaru au. because creativity is dead and i think komaru being stuck in a killing game is ??? when you think about the fact that komaru canonically sees ghosts. you KNOW she ends up possessed by one of the dead students in the last trial bc someone wants to say fuck you to the mastermind :/ also the fact that syo remembers shit but just never says anything feels like great potential!! they just want to love their partner but toko won’t let them front this is homphobia /j

anyways this au just lives in my wips rent free bc i keep changing my mind on how i want things to play out anyways. so this is more of a concept and not canon to that au if i ever finish it and that's also why this takes place in ch1 so i don't gotta think too hard on the details <3 any talents brought up are the ones i'm for sure sticking with.

tws for touko's general paranoia / anxiety / etc, mentions of murder bc kg au, and also since i usually depict syo as nonbinary with they/them pronouns, komaru’s technically accidentally misgendering them from her pov bc she doesn’t/can’t tell that syo is fronting, in case that bothers you!!

Summary: for being chosen on the basis of luck, it doesn't feel like she's ever going to catch a break here.

It’s quiet, this morning.

Not that she really knows any better— they’ve only been trapped in the school with the murder bear for a few days, after all. So maybe Komaru’s focusing on the wrong part.

It’s less that it’s quiet, there’s a few faces missing that she’d have expected to get there before her. Especially since she’d managed to sleep through her alarm again and had been kind of late; she had fully expected to be greeted with a lecture as soon as she’d gotten to the dining hall. Alright, one person specifically that stands out in her mind, but it hasn’t gone unnoticed by her that Fukawa’s not there yet. Weird, given the moral compass had lectured her for being tardy to meet up with everyone on their first day, and then for sleeping in the first morning, but...given the videos that bear had shown them the previous day, she supposes she can’t blame some people to feel reluctant to show up. Maybe that’s where she is? Going around to check on people? She had seemed a little paranoid that people were skipping out on gathering in the morning on purpose...

( Because she really, really doesn’t want to think about the possibility that Fukawa, or any of her other classmates might possibly be dead. That someone would have actually gone through with trying to kill one another? So she simply won’t think about that fact. It feels kind of like a Pavlovian...no, wait, that’s the wrong person. Uh. Freudian theory? Ah! Schrödinger’s cat. Yeah, that kind of scenario )

Okay, that settles it! She should probably have breakfast first, and if Fukawa hasn’t shown up by the time she finishes, she’ll go see if she can find her. Besides, she’s sure they aren’t the only ones who are concerned about the ones that haven’t shown up. Maizono seemed super nice ( unsurprisingly ), so maybe if she’s still hanging out in the dining hall, Komaru can convince her to help her in her search! Now that she thinks about it, she can probably ask anyone that comes by the dining hall for any leads.

...But why does she care so much in the first place? It’s not like she doesn’t care about the others: even the ones already dead— she can’t place why exactly she feels attached to people she barely knew, but she’s always been pretty sentimental. Maybe that’s it. Maybe it’s the way Fukawa seems to try so hard to be close to people in one moment, and then so distant in the next.

In any case, standing in front of the fridge and spacing out is probably far from a good idea, besides the obvious fact that she’s in the way— she doesn’t even notice that someone has decided to take advantage of her distracted state to pull the wool over her eyes. Er, the hoodie of her jacket, technically.

She’s hardly gotten a chance to push the hood back before a hand comes down on her head to ruffle her hair. Or, well, she presumes that is his intention, even if the gesture comes off as more of a light noogie. She puffs her cheeks out in a pout, glaring up while the other smirks down at her. “‘Sup, squirt? Falling asleep on yer feet, or is there another reason yer zoning out in the middle of the kitchen?” The baseball star tosses an apple in his hand like one would with a ball, and she considers lightly kicking Oowada’s ankles in retaliation.

“Just thinking. You probably shouldn’t play with your food like that though.” She responds, and he makes a face at her.

“Ah, so ya do still got something still rattlin’ in that tiny head of yours, good. Worried I knocked everything outta ya.” He teases, reaching past her to open the fridge door. “An’ why would you do that to yerself? It’s still too early in the mornin’ fer that shit.”

“Well...I’m just a little worried. There are fewer people hanging out in the dining hall this morning.” She admits.

He scowls. “Pretty sure they’re just antsy ‘cause of that damn bear ‘nd if any of them have a lick of sense in ‘em they’ll be busy looking fer a way out or somethin’. Don’t worry yer pretty lil’ head about it.”

“...Yeah, I guess.” She can’t help but worry, but her concern isn’t exactly going to help right now, at any rate. Maybe she’ll just find something that she can take with her to eat. “Oh! But speaking of that, did you happen to see Fukawa-san on your way here? I would’ve thought she would have stayed around here this morning, honestly.”

“Her? Mm, yeah, heard her and Ishimaru goin’ at it in the halls earlier—”

“They were what?” Before he can finish his sentence, Asahina’s voice cuts in from behind her, pitch breaking midspeech.

“Fighin’! They were jus’ yelling at each other! N...Not anything weird!” Oowada backtracks in a panic when he realizes how poorly his wording could be misconstrued, even if such a thought never occurred to her. “Jeeze, ya think the Public Morals chick would engage in that shit? Not that I don’t think she might be a bit hypocritical with her rules ‘nd shit but—”

“No! No, I don’t! That’s why I was asking!” Asahina retorts with a huff, and while they bicker, Komaru takes this as an opportunity to slink out of the kitchen with a slice of toast. Unfortunately, Maizono seems to have left in that span of time, but the Clairvoyant happens to be sitting alone, so she figures she might see if she has anything interesting to contribute.

Enoshima opens an eye to stare at her upon hearing her footsteps, presumably, and before Komaru can even greet her, she speaks, monotone. “Four.”

Whatever question you’d planned to say dies in your throat, instead sputtering out a bewildered, “H-Huh?”

“It’s your lucky number for the day.” She sounds bored, as if she’d been stating the obvious, instead of some cryptic statement.

“...Isn’t that the number of death?” She is less certain of herself than she wants to be, ignoring the shiver that runs down her back upon realizing this.

Enoshima grins at that, for reasons she doesn’t understand; cheery voice a total 180 from what it’d been moments ago. “Well, perhaps it means you’ll be having a meeting with death today? Probably about time someone kicked the bucket, someone was bound to snap sooner or later... I’m sure your luck will kick in though, right? But I’ll wish you good luck anyways!”

“Thank you...?” Is that the appropriate response here? She’s not sure, but it’s probably not worth lingering on any longer than she already has, and decides with a rising urgency that maybe she should find Fukawa.

Although, recounting the conversation in the kitchen, she wonders if she should check on Ishimaru as well. Neither of them really struck Komaru as the kind to fight ( with their fists, at least, Fukawa’s mouth seemed set on picking a fight half the time ), so to say she was a little concerned might be an understatement. Given the writer had a tendency to be more openly friendly she could probably get a straight...well, an honest answer from him as to what had happened.

But she wanders for what feels like ages, and doesn’t have any luck ( haha, the irony ) in finding any hint as to where either of them might have gone, and decides to stick to her efforts to find Fukawa first. Ishimaru seemed like the type to be more resilient, so maybe she can catch him around their next meal time. If he didn’t lose track of time again, at least...

Ugh, she’d kill to honestly run into anyone around here. Not literally kill, obviously, but for reasons she’s been trying to keep quiet on, she really hates wandering the halls alone: or most places that they can access right now, to be honest. She keeps seeing this one ghost this one ghost in particular ( or at least Komaru is pretty sure she’s a ghost ), but she refuses to acknowledge her hanging around because that would be weird, and she would like to seem normal and if someone saw that it’d be a hassle to explain.

Fortunately, her search finally turns up fruitful when she finds Fukawa spacing out in the A/V room.

...Unfortunately for her, finding Fukawa earns her a pretty close brush with death. In the blink of an eye, a pair of scissors are thrust against her throat, pinning her back against the moment she steps into the room.

Oh. Uh. Oh god? Was Enoshima actually right about that? Her breath catches in her throat and for a moment, she wonders who would find her if she was killed here. Would they care? What about her parents— Makoto?

Would they sigh and just ponder if she’d ever been lucky at all?

And just as quick, the cold metal is pulled away from where it rests against her neck. “Oh. It’s just you.” The words are spoken with more warmth than she can ever recall hearing Fukawa speak with, which is really weird considering what just went down.

Ever so smartly, Komaru doesn’t actually process what is said to her, and responds with, “Isn’t that technically against the rules?”

A thin eyebrow is raised at her, scissors being tucked away under her shirt. Uh. “No? That’s what they want, right? Or are you so naive that you think that everyone would really follow the rules?”

Well. She’s probably not entirely wrong in thinking that she’s naive, but... “Isn’t, uhm. Isn’t that your thing, though? The rules?”

Fukawa looks startled to have this pointed out to her, for some reason. “Oh, hahaha, yeah. T-Totally! I was just...uh, testing you.”

Okay, now she’s just downright acting strange? Komaru’s willing to give her the benefit of the doubt that maybe she’s just acting odd because the videos are weighing on her mind. They are in the AV room, after all. Something doesn’t add up though, but she can’t quite place what it is...

Komaru opens her mouth to ask the other a question, but when she looks back over at Fukawa, her expression has gone kind of...distant? Hazy? She doesn’t quite know how to describe it, and begins to ask if she’s feeling okay when the other girl sort of...collapses into her, arms going around her loosely. She panics a little because that can’t be a sign of anything good, right? Is she feeling dizzy? She’s not passed out, and at least she’s breathing normally. She’s surprisingly pretty light, so it’s not like it’s really an issue to just help support her until she feels better.

The only warning that she gets is the feeling of the other girl tensing up before Fukawa suddenly bolts upright and shoves herself away. Komaru frowns a little, not because of the sudden change in attitude ( if anything, she finds that strangely reliving ), but moreso out of concern, attempting to reach her hands out to help steady her on her feet, but gets her hands slapped away before she can do so. “Don’t touch me.” She hisses.

Okay she’d be lying if she said that didn’t sting, but she can’t help but laugh for a moment. “Ahaha— sorry, I’m not laughing at you. For a moment there, you seemed like a completely different person! I’m glad to see you’re feeling better, Fukawa-san.” If she were more aware of the situation, she might feel more guilty for being unintentionally insensitive: but as she doesn't, she simply misses the way the other looks nervous for a moment while she wonders what that had been all about ( but can’t quite gather the nerve to actually ask ).

“Y-Yeah, real likely story. You just...just came to l-laugh at me in a moment of weakness, r-r-right?” She glares, hands clenched. “I know your type! No one is...is actually that nice w-without some kind of ulterior motive.”

Is that what she actually thinks about me?

“No! I really am glad to see you’re feeling better. You really had me scared there for a minute.” She says sincerely, offering her a reassuring smile. “If you want, I’ll listen to whatever’s bothering you. It’ll stay between us.”

Fukawa scowls, watching her for a long minute with a guarded expression. “There w-was something on the, uh, disc that Monokuma gave you, right? Just like— like everyone else?”

Huh? Well, if this is what it takes to get her trust, then she supposes she can talk about it... “Yeah. It was my parents and my older brother. It’s...kinda scary to think about, honestly. What about you, Fukawa-san? Was it also your family?”

“No. M-M-Mine was blank. Because...because there was no one to choose. Or so he says.” Her jaw is clenched. “Of course, I had to— I acted like I was the same as everyone else, b-because it’d be strange if I didn’t, right? You’d think I was, was working with them or something...everyone would really hate me after th-yhat.”

“Uhm, I’m pretty sure Togami-san didn’t even blink an eye...?” She tries to bring up as a counterpoint, but apparently she has more to say.

“A-A-And before you ask, it’s not like they’re wrong about that, so...so it didn’t surprise me to here it. But everyone got s...something similar, right? All these personal th-things about us...just how much do they really know? How are we supposed to act like, like this is all normal when they’ve got that kind of leverage over us...!”

Oh. She’s shaking— she’s scared. She’s been putting up a front? Komaru puts two and two together after a moment, gently taking the other girl’s hands in her own. This time, she doesn’t get pushed away.

“I’m scared too.” She admits. “Thinking about it like that is scary. But that’s what they want from us, right? To make us scared, so we act the way he wants us to, right?”

Fukawa remains silent, but the conflicted look on her face at least indicated that she was paying attention to her and not ignoring her like she might’ve feared. Komaru squeezes her hands in an attempt to be reassuring. “But you think we’ll all get out alive, right? So no matter what, as long as you believe that, no matter what they might know we’ll be okay. And if you don’t think you can do that on your own, I’ll be right here to support you. So we’ll definitely get out alive, it’s a promise...!”

“You...You really don’t know wh-wh-what you’re saying.” She mutters under her breath, but Komaru takes it in stride with a grin.

“That’s not a no!” It’s not a yes either, but Fukawa doesn’t humor her in further acknowledging the subject: it doesn’t really mater, because Komaru sees a hint of what might be called a smile in her gentle expression.

Yes, at least with one of your peers, you are sure you’ve grown a little closer with today ( and for today, that is a good enough start ).