#prepare to be sick of me reblogging this because i intended to have this up wayyyy before today's pod so it's gonna get buried lol

[sanguineterrain]

about first place | eddie munson

hey guys remember when i wrote for stranger things? lol.

so this is another installment of my about a boy series. you don't have to read them to understand this fic, but idk, you might like those too! check them out if you feel like :)

Summary: Eddie asks you to change plans. You spiral.

Pairing: Eddie Munson x gn!reader

Word count: 1.6k

Warnings/tags: intrusive (violent and one self-harm) thoughts, self deprecating thoughts, reader spirals, eddie is hurtful (by accident) to the reader, but they communicate and it's resolved. reader feels like they are cast aside and there is trauma behind that feeling. reader is sensitive to rejection and has trouble communicating.

my fics aren't intended to be used as models for perfect communication or anything like that HOWEVER this fic is intended to be a story about communication and building trust and navigating a partner's trauma. if these topics are triggering to you, DO NOT READ.

if you enjoy this, please let me know through reblogs (and a comment, if you feel like!)

divider by firefly-graphics | i reblog all fics to @sanguinelibrary

Fridays are dinner nights with Eddie. Sometimes you do them on Saturday, but usually, every week, you two have dinner. It hasn’t gone on for very long; you’ve only just begun to feel comfortable eating in front of Eddie. But you like it. Sometimes Wayne joins you two. It feels like you have a home.

And after every dinner, you confirm with Eddie that he'll come over next week too. People like when you confirm plans in advance. You like when people confirm plans and keep their commitments. 

You like that Eddie comes over. You like that he wants to come over. 

The phone rings. You put down the wooden spoon and answer. 

"Hello?"

"Hey, sweet thing!" Eddie says. "Hey, so, I'm at Gareth's place right now, and our campaign is running long. It's so good, babe, I just created this new storyline and everybody loves it! Wheeler even said she might join next week. Am I a genius or what?"

You smile. "You're a genius, Eds. Nancy appreciates a good story; I’m not surprised you wowed her.”

"Aw, you flatter me, sweet thing. So, uh, I know I'm supposed to come over for dinner, but would it be okay if I took a rain check? Only because…"

You don't hear the rest of the sentence. The only thing that rings in your ears is rain check. Eddie's canceling. Eddie's sick of you. 

"...Is that alright?" he finally asks. "I'll take you out to dinner tomorrow." 

Your chest constricts. Eddie's expecting agreeability. He's expecting your acquiescence to the fact that he's sick of you. 

"Sure," you say tightly. 

There's a pause. Then, "So, I’ll swing by tomorrow?"

"No." You haven't prepared to interact with people tomorrow, you prepared for today. And tonight was planned a week in advance, but Eddie wants to change plans. Eddie cares more about Hellfire than spending time with you. 

Eddie is just like the rest of them.

"How ‘bout Monday? Or later next week? I wanna spend time with you, sweet thing."

Your throat feels tight. You need to end the conversation now or your guts will unspool all over the floor and Eddie will hear you try to stuff them back into your stomach. 

"It's fine. We don't need to reschedule. Bye."

You hang up. Immediately, your stomach hurts. Why should you feel guilty? Eddie abandoned plans that you made a week ago for his other friends. Eddie doesn't care about you. That's always how it goes. People hurt you and they don't care, and then you're the one who feels guilty for hanging up on them. 

Thoughts of Eddie crashing his van or Eddie getting struck by lightning flash unbidden into your mind and your stomach ache gets worse. What the fuck is wrong with you? Why would you think those things? You don't want that to happen to Eddie. You love Eddie, even though you were bound to eat too much love and get a stomach ache. 

You feel like doing something that would make your mother mad at you. You feel like digging your nails into the bathroom tile grout and scraping until you see the sun. You feel like carving scars into the kitchen table. 

Goddammit, you need to stop the bad thoughts. Think good thoughts. Think thoughts normal people have. Pretend you're normal. Pretend you're loved. 

You look at the pot of boiling water. Would Eddie come over if you stuck your hand in?

No, God, what's wrong with you? You fucking psycho. This is why no one keeps their plans with you! Eddie's job isn't to take care of you, to hold your hand and pet your hair and tell you he's happy to be here with you. 

You're wrong, you were born wrong, and that's your problem, not his. That's why he's gone. That's why everybody leaves. 

Knock knock. 

You look at the door, spooked. Did someone hear your thoughts? Are they finally here to take you away? 

"Sweet thing, you there? Can I please come in?"

If you let Eddie in, you'll have to tell him it's okay, and your guts will be there for him to see because you haven't cleaned them up yet, and he'll know you've been crying over him even though he called first which is more than you've ever been given before, and your stomach ache will triple and and and—

"It's open," you say. 

Eddie comes in. Your face is impenetrable. Stone. No, concrete. No, obsidian. Your face is obsidian, and Eddie's got a plastic hammer. You'll win and you can scoop up your guts later. 

"Hey," Eddie says softly. "Hey, sweetheart."

You take a step back. This is a trick.

"Why aren't you with your friends?" you ask, crossing your arms.

Eddie winces. "I’m sorry, baby. That was a mistake. I realized that after we hung up. I shouldn't have tried to reschedule. You and I made plans, and they're important to me. I ended the game—we're gonna meet next week." 

"You can go. I don't care."

Eddie's mouth flattens. You've hurt his feelings, but he hurt yours first, but you don't want to hurt his at all, but but but—

"I'm sorry I hurt you," Eddie says. "I don't want to reschedule or ditch our plans. I wanna spend time with you, I do."

"I don't want you here," you say. "I want you to leave, Eddie. I don't forgive you."

Eddie's face crumples. But he nods. "Okay, baby. I-I'll leave if you want me to go. I respect your space. You don't have to forgive me right now." 

Oh no. Eddie came prepared. Eddie has a diamond-tipped drill. 

"I'm never first," you blurt.

Eddie tilts his head. "What do you mean?"

He's still gentle. He's still here. Even though you didn't forgive him. Even though you're mad at him. Even though you'll never be normal. He's listening anyway. 

"No one puts me first. You did, but then you didn't tonight, even though I made plans enough time in advance. A week is enough time. People are supposed to stick to plans when you ask them a week ahead. It's my fault when I don't give them enough time, and it makes sense when they don't want to spend time with me then, but this time it wasn't my fault. You're supposed to decide you don't like me before this point. It hurts less when you decide earlier." 

Your chest heaves. Eddie's stepping all over your guts. He tracks them across the carpet as he gets closer. You watch the bloody intestine footprints slop behind him. 

"But you said yes. But then you wanted out. I'm never—I'm never first."

Eddie's face splinters further. "Oh, sweetheart—"

You wipe your eyes, pulling the skin hard. 

"I do like you," he says, and your sob breaks. "I do. Nothing'll make me stop liking you. And I love you still. I didn't ask that because I don't like you. It-it doesn't matter why I asked, but avoiding you wasn't the reason. It was a thoughtless thing I did. I thought you wouldn't mind, but you do, and that's okay. That's valid. I want you to tell me that. I want you to say, "Eddie, you dummy, I love ya, but let's keep our plans," and I'll come home."

"You didn't want to," you say, and cry harder. 

"No, baby, it's not like that at all. I wanted to do both, I like the idea of both. I always enjoy spending time with you. I thought maybe since we do this regularly, you wouldn't mind something different too."

You're overreacting. You're scary. This is wrong. This isn't how norm—fucking fuck that word! 

"I'm sorry," you blubber, quivering in place. 

Your legs feel weak. You lean against the counter for support.

Eddie shakes his head. He's a foot away. 

"What're you apologizing for, baby? You don't have to apologize. I hurt you, not the other way around."

"I'm guilty," you say, crying into your hands. "I'm guilty too. I thought bad thoughts. I didn't mean to, but I did, and now you're here, but I want you to be here because you want to be, not because I… I…"

"Is it okay if I touch you?" 

You nod, and Eddie's arms slide around you. Every time he hugs you, you're certain you won't fit together. But you always do. 

"It's okay if you thought bad thoughts," Eddie says into your ear. You feel his voice vibrate through your chest. "You're not your thoughts. And it's okay if some of those thoughts were because you were hurting from what I said. I’m really sorry, sweet thing. I have angry thoughts too, sometimes. But that's all they are. Just thoughts. Just noise. They don't make you bad. You're good. So, so good."

You wrap your arms around Eddie's neck and hug hard. He squeezes you back just as tightly. The pressure feels good. 

"I w-want you to hang out with friends, but I want you to k-keep our plans first," you say, and then brace yourself. You take great, big, shuddering breaths. 

"That is a very reasonable ask, my love. I’ll do that from now on. And how 'bout if we want to change plans, we'll ask at least three days in advance? Is that fair?”

You nod against his shoulder. You stay like that, Eddie rubbing circles on your back. His curls tickle your wet cheek.

"Sorry I ruined it," you say. 

"No, no, you didn't ruin anything. I made a mistake and we're learning how to communicate better. We’re learning.”

"I was scary."

"I don't think so, baby." 

You're quiet for a moment. "I want you to stay and eat with me."

He squeezes your arm. "I would love nothing more, sweet thing." 

You take the colander out of the cabinet. Eddie pushes your guts back into your stomach. No one's ever done that for you.

Perhaps you are loved. No pretending necessary. 

[canariie]

For your reblogs milestone requests (congratulations!!) If this pings you, I'd love to see Hitsugaya + Hinamori + CAMPING. Good trip, bad trip, planned, unplanned, business, pleasure... Any kind of camping and any kind of tone!

how to start a fire

Rating: K+

“Hinamori, you’re imagining things—go to sleep.”

“I am not,” she hissed, with a little more bite than intended. She was still bitter about their squabble. “I know there’s something out there.” She turned to her backpack, fumbling around in the dark as she searched for the flashlight. “Did you read the information pack that Hisagi-san had sent? Apparently, this used to be a habitat for bears.”

“Yes, and I read the amended version Ise-fuukutaicho sent—the local bear population has become endangered. The only thing we’re in danger of is losing our sleep,” he grumbled.

…

Momo is sent to train Toushiro in the World of the Living in combination kido.

Word Count: 3670 words

Setting: after the Bleach Anniversary Hell Chapter

Prompt: @hitsuhina-week Gift Exchange 2023 for @whipplefilter

"maybe we didn't argue, but we don't agree"/ "Hitsugaya asks Hinamori to teach him her kidou-weaving"/"HitsuHina from unexpected/outside POVs"

Authour’s Note: This is SO LATE IN ALL THE SENSES. Firstly, because Whipple sent this request in like, summer. And then I was matched with them for the Gift Exchange which I thought I could make! but holidays! & falling sick! (are we really ever as productive as we would like over the holidays??)

(Thank you @rays-of-fire-and-ice for being understanding!)

When I saw the prompts that Whipple sent, I immediately thought of their initial fic request & thought it was such a perfect thing to combine! Unfortunately, I couldn't get in the Hitsuhina from an outside POV but maybe one day in the future!

I had a lot of fun trying to flesh this out and was really happy to go back to writing after so long! However, I believe much like the rest of the fandom, life is going to get busy in the coming months for me and I won't be as active in writing as I would like to :( I hope to still participate in events but it does really inspire me reading everyone's work when I come back to try to write on my own!!

Happy New Year everyone! Here's hoping 2024 is one with happiness and laughter and fun for everyone!!

I hope you all enjoy this!

---

Momo dropped her duffel bag and began to rummage around it, pushing overnight clothes and toiletries aside. “Here’s a clearing: we can proceed here.”

Toushiro looked around skeptically, noting the abandoned fire pits and wooden pavilions in the distance. “Won’t we be disturbing the humans?”

“Soutaicho had reserved the whole camping ground area while the Twelfth Division set up a barrier that would send any human that would walk towards the training facilities, confused but turned around.” She swallowed the gikon pill, feeling her human body leave her as if she were shedding a coat off.

The tenth captain raised an eyebrow. “Shouldn’t the Kido Corps have facilitated that?”

Momo shrugged, though she admitted she wondered about the ethics of the research division sometimes. “All the training leaders were assured that they wouldn’t be harmed. Nanao-san also reiterated that each cell would be allocated a parcel of the forest—so we don’t have to worry about anyone else while we train.”

With the new frontier of Hell on the line, the Gotei 13 were implementing new training tactics to prepare for the unknown battle. Each division had received a list of candidates for leaders of the cell groups—specific internal training groups to provide targeted instruction on skills soldiers may find lacking. Momo had been selected from the Fifth Division to lead high level kido proficiency, specifically on combination spells. The leaders ranged in rank, from captains to lieutenants and even high ranked seated officers. She had heard later from Matsumoto, Ikkaku had been selected to lead swordsmanship skills, Isane for healing during combat, a fourth seat in the eighth division for defensive spells among many. The cell groups would then be volunteers from across the Gotei 13 that would train with the leaders in World of the Living on a reserved human camping site.

Momo had been flattered (even when her captain had bemoaned jokingly why he hadn’t been picked) but was also left feeling disconcerted at the letter.

A few weeks ago, there was an expedition team sent out earlier to understand the spells and mechanisms that opened Hell’s Doors as well as scope its initial terrain. The list was short and concise with only a few captains and lieutenants selected. Renjii & Rukia were on the list as they had already prior experience in the hellscape. Momo had been keen to go, as she heard her name was nominated by Rukia to help with kido to break down the entrance. However, the day before the mission, her name was taken off the list with a curt note saying that her kido services would no longer be required. During the prior lieutenant’s meeting Renjii looked at her with a regretful glance, squeezing her shoulder sympathetically and she later received an apology Hell Butterfly from the Thirteen Captain before the expedition team left.

Momo had walked back to the Fifth Division in a daze, feeling a bit bereft at the sudden change in plans. The shock must have been evident on her face as her captain immediately took one look at her before bringing her to the couch and placing a warm cup of tea in her hands.

“Hitsugaya-taicho seems to have requested you for your first training session.”

“Why?” Momo asked. She had been reviewing the list of volunteers who wanted to train with her and was surprised at the number of people. If she were to spend time with each one, she would have to remain in the World of the Living for at least a month.

However, she had not seen Toushiro’s name on her initial list—much less expected him to volunteer. The tenth captain was quick on his feet in battle and she never assumed his skills were lacking.

Hirako-taicho shrugged. “Maybe he wants a brush up as well? I know he had gone on the Hell Expedition Team & him and the little Kuchiki realized there was some reworking off spells to be done.”

That got Momo to pause as she was sorting through the files. It had been a couple of weeks since the team had returned from Hell. “Hitsugaya-taicho had joined the expedition?” As far as she knew, he was never a candidate for the expedition, and he hadn’t mentioned anything like that to her.

Her captain stilled, his eyes avoiding her questioning look. “I believe he was the last-minute change…”

“Hirako-taicho—why did Hitsugaya-kun go on the expedition?”

He sighed in quiet exasperation. “I heard from Abarai that Hitsugaya-taicho requested you off the mission,” he said reluctantly. “And when there was no other candidate to go, he volunteered himself.”

“And why would he do that?” she asked quietly, still processing what she had heard.

Hirako shook his head, his bangs falling away from his eyes. “He never brought it up at the captain’s meeting. He went directly to the Soutaicho & the expedition team.”

The news sat with Momo as she prepared her training plan and packed her bags to go the World of the Living. The unease festered inside of her, leaving her with feelings of self-doubt and anxiety. She found herself unable to sleep well and only when she stepped onto the campgrounds and breathed in the fresh air, could she feel the tension loosening in her shoulder.

Momo had an earlier departure time and was preparing the grounds when the Tenth Captain dropped in, much later in the evening when the sky was hedging into dusk. It had been the first time they had seen each other in a long while, and Momo was still feeling unsettled—so introductions were short, and she immediately led him to the training area where she was now beginning a demonstration. If the boy noticed anything unusual, he made no comment and followed suit.

Momo slipped into teaching mode, something she had learned while part-timing at the academy to help compartmentalize her life as a lecturer separate from a lieutenant.

“We’ll start off with one of my prior combination spells in battle: from during the Winter War era when Rangiku-san and I had to fight the three arrancars.” She avoided looking at Toushiro for she knew much after the fact that he hadn’t approved of her coming onto the battlefield—which apparently, things still hadn’t changed between them. “Let me show you first.”

The girl lifted her hands in front of her, demonstrating as she spoke. “The strength of the spell also comes from the foundation of the pose. I know after we graduate and go into battle, it’s very easy to skip this step as we’ve become comfortable with the incantations.” She moved her hands as if they were framing a triangle. “However, as we introduce combination spells, I find that there’s strength in using combative stances with defensive spells and vice versa.”

Her student nodded along, with a furrow in his eyebrows that Momo knew he was mentally taking notes.

“It started off with Hadou 12 Fuishibi: I had used it as a defensive base before obscuring it with a concealment spell.”

“That was Kyokou, right?” Toushiro piped in.

She nodded in affirmation. “Yes—that was the key to catching the arrancar off. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have been able to blindside them in the initial attack.”

Toushiro’s eyebrow raised slowly, almost as if he were impressed if Momo had to guess. “That’s quite commendable that you were able to weave that many kidou together—especially for your first time.”

Momo had to stop herself from reacting openly to that. She hadn’t remembered telling him that it was her first attempt, a decision crossed in between luck and adrenaline. However, she had a lot to prove—and evidently, there were still people that doubted her.

“However, the key is finding the right igniting spell: Shakaho is a common one and it doesn’t matter how proficient you are in kidou—it’ll still give you the right amount of power you need.”

She beckoned with her head, her arms still held in front of her in stance. “You can follow me for now and then we can try separately on our own, Hitsugaya-taicho.”

When he mirrored suit, she started reciting the incantations—pausing in between lines to explain the steps.

“You start trying to imagine a series of lines, crossing each other. Imagine the intersection and focus on that. Personally, for me, it helps to visualize the centers becoming brighter to build a stronger net.”

“Like Bakudo #4, Hainawa?”

Momo winced, sensing the kidou web pull away from her. “Not really. It’s the foundation—it’s not the main goal. You’re setting up trajectory for the blast to follow.”

“Is it necessary to recite the full spell?”

“Sort of—I find it helpful to not focus fully on the incantation but instead what it represents. Breaks down the rigidity of the tradition and make it more malleable in combining different spells.”

“How do you control the scale of the net?”

“It’s all in the visualization—you need to imagine it,” she responded quickly as she felt herself faltering. The net grew dimmer and wilted, like a flower causing Momo to repeat the previous line again. She wasn’t used to being interrupted so often.

“When do you switch hand positions?”

“Hold on Hitsugaya—”, Momo could feel the net pull away from her like a storm wind catching hold of a kite. She proceeded forward and, in her haste, she skipped two lines ahead in the incantation.   

The effects were immediate with the strings of the net burning brighter and brighter. Momo faltered, immediately stopping the incantation but it was too late. The net hummed in power before it exploded, sending sparks back at the shinigami & the wooden structures.

Momo could only watch as Toushiro immediately called a cool wind forth to snuff out the embers, leaving just a sizzling trail of smoke as the remains of the misspell.

“I think we better call it for the night,” he said with a measured tone, evaluating the scene.

The slip back into their gigai was so quiet and routine that even the shift of corporeal bodies couldn’t cut the thick tension between the two. The moon was hanging high & alone by the time they had returned silently back to their campsite.

Momo immediately started collecting broken branches and twigs to start the fire. She kept her head down, repeating the recent events in her head over and over. Even though Toushiro had been peppering her with questions, she knew she was accustomed to that from teaching new recruits—and inwardly Momo knew that it was her earlier feelings towards the young captain that made her mess up the incantation. There was a strong part of her that was ashamed for getting her emotions get in the way of teaching—something she had promised herself she would learn to keep professional and private matters separate.

Momo sighed deeply, walking back to their clearing, and dumping the wood into the firepit. As she rearranged the pieces into a tented position, she could feel Toushiro’s eyes on her—much like earlier, observing quietly and learning.

“It’s to help structure the flame,” she explained quietly. Momo pulled some newspapers she had brought with her and began shredding them over the pit.

“How do you know how to do this?”

“Hirako-taicho and I went on camping trips as a way to get to know each other when we first started working together. The other Vizards would also join us as well.”

Toushiro rolled his eyes. “It still amazes me how he can circumvent rules to do it.” It was an offhand comment, nothing out of the ordinary for the young captain. However, at that moment it deeply grated at her nerves, and it struck raw.

Momo snapped a branch in her hand. “Hirako-taicho completes his work as necessary. He also doesn’t cross the line—unlike you Hitsugaya-taicho.”

He raised an eyebrow. “What are you talking about, Hinamori?”

“You pulled rank and took me off the Hell expedition,” she said curtly, yanking out the matchstick box from her pocket and snapping the match strong against the box.

There was a pause where Momo could only hear the friction of the match. “You’re not ready,” Toushiro said carefully, as if he were approaching a skittish creature. “There are far too many unknowns, and the risk is too great.”

“You had no business deciding to do so.” The match didn’t catch, and Momo cursed under her breath as she flicked it to the ground. She pulled another one out and began again.

“Other lieutenants were pulled off as well, it came down to essential personnel only.”

“No, Hitsugaya-taicho, you are a captain of the Tenth Division and were overstepping your bounds. Kuchiki-san had requested me on that mission for my skills and you decided to pull me off.”

The match ignited brightly in her hands. Momo dropped it into the pile of wood where it immediately spurred into large flames. She looked up to see the fire reflecting in his turquoise eyes, resolute.

“If I had to do it again, I would,” he said solemnly, holding his ground across the fire from her.

“Well that’s the difference between us, Hitsugaya-taicho—I would be honest with someone if I didn’t think they were good enough.”

“That’s not what I meant and you know it,” he sighed.

Momo straightened her shoulders back and stared firmly back at him through the flames. “I am a lieutenant of the Fifth Division, I have earned my way to serve the Gotei 13—whether you like it or not.”  

--

Dinner was a quiet tense affair with the two of them eating their packed meals quite far and separated from each other. Momo had already started to feel awful from such negative feelings, but on principle she held her ground, quickly scarfing down her onigiri.

They had changed in silence to their sleeping clothes, each taking turns to watch shift before tucking into their respective sleeping bags across the fire pit. In the absence of a “good night,” Momo felt remorse, and found herself consciously holding back from asking if Toushiro was awake.

When they were younger, they’d climb up onto the thatched roofs to stargaze during the night. The hay would itch at bare skin and it would always take the two of them a while to get settled, but when they had found their spots, it was like the world quieted again and they lost themselves in counting the constellations. Sometimes she would speak and Toushiro would respond, in either one sentence responses or noises of affirmation—but always honest. And when it became too quiet to speak, the two would just lie in silence. It was those peaceful moments that would ground Momo whenever she was away studying in the academy; where it felt like possibilities were endless, but home was right behind her, keeping her grounded and safe.

But that felt like a different lifetime with too much death in between to tie them to the same life.

A loud rustle startled Momo from her stupor.

She pushed herself up off the ground. “Did you hear that?”

There was another sound, a creak.

“Hitsugaya-kun,” Momo called out, a twinge of fear creeping into her voice.

“I’m trying to sleep,” he groused.

She persisted, sitting up and listening carefully. The fire crackled and hissed, and Momo strained to hear through the crackle of the fire. Internally she felt at lost without being able to detect the rieatsu of whatever was out there.

“Hinamori, you’re imagining things—go to sleep.”

“I am not,” she hissed, with a little more bite than intended. She was still bitter about their squabble. “I know there’s something out there.” She turned to her backpack, fumbling around in the dark as she searched for the flashlight. “Did you read the information pack that Hisagi-san had sent? Apparently, this used to be a habitat for bears.”

“Yes, and I read the amended version Ise-fuukutaicho sent—the local bear population has become endangered. The only thing we’re in danger of is losing our sleep,” he grumbled.

“I forgot how grumpy you get when you don’t get your sleep,” Momo murmured.

“What was that?”

“Nothing.”

A rustle was heard and Toushiro shot up, his eyes much alert. “I think there’s something approaching.”

Momo fought the urge to roll her eyes as she fished out the flashlight. “That’s what I was saying.”

A twig broke and immediately Toushiro slipped a gikon pill in, his human body falling back onto the sleeping bag.

“I’m not going to use Hyourinmaru—the weather changes will alert the humans nearby.”

Momo rustled through her duffle bag, pulling things out rapidly. “I can’t find my gikon pills—I must have left them at the training site.”

Toushiro stepped in front of her sleeping bag, his stance defensive as he mimicked Momo’s earlier pose from the training session. “I’ll handle it. I’ll use the kido weaving to stop whatever it is in its tracks.”

That got Momo to pause. “Wait, Hitsugaya-kun—I’m not sure if you’re ready.”

He started to chant, slow and steady as the noise picked up. Momo could only focus on her heart racing that she almost missed the slip of incantation: Toushiro had skipped a line—a very crucial line.

“Hitsugaya-kun—you forgot—”

The threads burned amber, casting a bright glow against the surrounding boundary of trees before they began to constrict against themselves. The woven net grew and expanded, closing in around the two of them instead of pushing outward. Toushiro realizing his error, quickly turned around and crouched over Momo as the net imploded into great sparks, rivaling a fireworks show.

The rustling noise got louder and two of them could only look up as the bush rumbled and rustled—before a bunny slipped out. It stared comically at the two of them, cocking its head to the side before hoping through the campgrounds as the two childhood friends watched.

A bubble of laughter escaped from Momo’s mouth which earned her an exasperated look from her friend above her. Toushiro’s hair was mussed with grey soot streaking the spiky edges; he looked like the human confection of a burnt marshmallow—which made Momo laugh even harder.

“This isn’t funny,” he grumbled, swiping away at his face with soot coming off.

“It kind of is,” she continued to laugh. “I’m sure when you get back into your gigai, it’ll go away.”

Whatever previous tension that was there before, disappeared and now there was a lightness as the two young shinigami cleaned up the area. The campfire that had been blazing strong before had calmed down to a dying ember, its small spark still burning bright against the night.

Momo cleared her throat, sheepishly looking down. “Would you mind if we pull these closer?” she gestured towards the distanced sleeping bags.

Toushiro shook his head. “No, not at all.”

After rearranging the bags, the two settled in quietly, lying on their backs and looking up at the stars. Momo sighed in content, feeling a lot more at peace than before but still wanted to clear the air about one more thing.

“Hitsugaya-kun,” she whispered.

“Hmm?”

“I’m sorry for yelling at you today.”

There was a long pause and she had wondered if he had heard her. “I deserved it. I apologize for not being transparent with you.”

Momo raised an eyebrow. “The great Hitsugaya-taicho is apologizing to me?”

“Oh, shut it.” Even though it was dark, she could hear the eyeroll in his voice. “And I’ve done it before,” he added softly.

“I know.” Momo remembered it well, especially after the Winter War. “But those for things that were out of your control. This is for something you deliberately did.”

The young girl heard him sigh deeply. “It’s something I’m working on,” he conceded.

“Rangiku-san put you up to it?”

“Something like that…” he drifted off.

“Well…” Momo tucked the blanket around her tighter her shoulders. “Thank you.”

When he didn’t say anything back, she continued on, speaking softly. “You need to trust me—I understand you’re worried, but you can’t go around making decisions on my behalf without talking to me.” She turned onto her side and faced him. “I can take care of myself, Hitsugaya-kun.”

He sighed. “I know you can—I don’t doubt it at all.”

“Then what makes this different?” Momo whispered.

Toushiro was silent for a while before turning to her. “It’s what we don’t know—everything we’ve been taught feels…upended.” He grimaced & even in the dark she could see the storm brewing in his eyes. “Ukitake-taicho, the Soutaicho…they’re all there now. It feels like the rules have changed and things are out of control.”

Momo smiled sympathetically before reaching a hand across, and gently placing it on his shoulder. “I know. I’m scared too. I’m scared for everyone at the Fifth, for Hirako-taicho, Rangiku-san.” She paused and stared into his eyes. “I’m also scared for you.”

His eyes widened slowly. “Hinamori…”

“But I won’t let that stop me from wanting to protect everyone—to protect you.” She squeezed his shoulder. “That’s why I became a shinigami, right?”

Momo could sense his inner storm abating and smiled in relief. “So—trust me, okay? Like I trust you to stay safe.”

He sighed deeply and stared back at her. “Okay—I will try.”

She chuckled quietly. “That’s all I ask.”

Momo let her hand fall in the space between them. “Now let’s go to sleep. We still have to finish training tomorrow. I can’t send you back not knowing how to do one combination spell.”

“This will definitely be an experience I will never forget,” he said softly.

She smiled, her eyes already closing shut. “Good night, Hitsugaya-kun.”

Sometime during the night, Momo felt her hand being pulled, and held tight. That even if they drifted in dreams under the stars, she was grounded and safe, held tight to home.

---

Authour's Note: Again, this happens late at night because I am a sucker for late night conversations. I had a lot of fun trying to write Momo's teaching methods for the kido (as if I know anything lol) I also just love that something doesn't go splendidly well for Toushiro (though I wish there were more people to witness it hahahaha)

Until next time everyone :)

[distant-velleity]

"hypocrite"

Summary: Sometimes, people who are too similar will also clash. Word count: 2.2k+ Warnings: violence A/N: Wheeew. Chrysos and Yu hours again. I'm not going to comment on the quality of this one for reasons, but I'll just post it anyway. Here you guys go. (I'll also reblog this on my sideblog so you guys can see some additional thoughts and such.)

~

Dammit. Where did it all go wrong?

Yu doesn’t necessarily storm out of the infirmary, but it’s something close to it.

With the longest, swiftest strides he can muster, he intends to head back to Ramshackle—to rest, to collect his thoughts, and to figure out where the hell Vil’s blot stone went.

It hadn’t been anywhere in the infirmary or on his person, even though it was right in his palm when he passed out the night before. He didn’t have any memory of waking up another time between blacking out and ending up in the infirmary, either. 

But if either the nurse or Crewel or Crowley had confiscated it, then they hadn’t addressed the issue at all when they had every reason to as highly-qualified staff members collectively responsible for the school’s safety.

So somehow, it disappeared right out of his hands. Somehow, a very potent crystallization of dangerous magical waste has disappeared and Yu needs to find it. 

Maybe, just maybe, it ended up somewhere where no one will find it before me—

“There you are, Wei.”

It’s a gentle but accusatory voice.

Yu blinks and stops, emerging from his thoughts. Thanks to the fair, the hallway is empty except for him—him and a certain Octavinelle student.

“Chrysos,” Yu says pleasantly, waving to him. Speaking as if nothing out of the usual had happened at all, as if he isn’t high-strung with nerves. “Headed somewhere?”

“I meant to visit the infirmary to find you,” admits Chrysos, “but… it looks like you’ve already been discharged.”

Yu’s mouth curves into a small smile, a mask of politeness, since he doesn’t really feel like smiling. “Yeah. It was probably a cause for concern for some, but I’m fine. An overnight stay in the nurse’s office was treatment enough.”

“Oh?” Chrysos tilts his head. “That’s fast. If I might ask… what were you in there for, then?”

The inevitable question, of course. Thankfully, he’d prepared for this.

“Stress-induced sickness, I guess? It got to the point where I fainted.” Yu laughs softly. Habitually, he adds in a dash of something pitiable: “I’m about as weak as people expect me to be.”

Chrysos narrows his eyes ever so slightly, lashes dipping—as if the half-lie about the fainting spell is a dried-out organism he’s about to viciously dissect. 

“I see,” he replies after a moment, instead of the expected accusations. “You’re sure you feel fine now, then?”

“Yep. Thanks for being worried, though.” Yu doesn’t mention that he pretty much blackmailed the nurse into letting him out, the second time in less than 24 hours. After all, it was better if no one noticed and questioned his abrupt admittance to the infirmary from last night…

…Yu frowns.

“Wait a minute—” he starts quietly, at the same time Chrysos says, “That’s good to hear.”

They look at each other, only one of them stunned into silence; and it isn’t Chrysos, who—ever composed—wordlessly and expectantly gestures for Yu to speak.

“How…” Yu hesitates, and then cautiously continues, “How did you even know I was in the infirmary?” After all, no one—absolutely no one besides the staff—should have been aware. It was far too early in the day for them to have told anyone…

Chrysos crosses his arms, an unreadable look in his eyes. “Do you want to take a guess?”

“No. Just tell me outright, please.”

“In that case…”  

Almost innocently, Chrysos gives a slight sideways incline of his head again.

“I was the one who brought you to the infirmary to begin with.”

As if he hadn’t just dropped a bombshell of a realization on Yu, the ever-polite and ever-observant freshman waits for a reaction with a perfectly neutral expression. Or, Yu reflects, maybe it’s because he understands the significance that he watches so calmly. 

It wouldn’t be surprising in the least.

Of course, still, Yu is filled to bursting with questions; opening his mouth to ask after a moment’s delay—then, what about the blot stone? Why were you out there in the dead of night like I was? Why did no one mention you to me? Why, and how—only to realize he can’t ask any of them. He can’t without giving up the little lie he’d made up for this conversation. 

Even Chrysos, composed and paradoxically reckless Chrysos, can’t be told the truth lest he try to stop Yu.

So Yu closes his mouth and then puts on another smile, a soft laugh. “Seriously? Well… Thank you a lot, then. I owe you one.” 

And, then— 

“But I’m kind of in a hurry, so maybe we can talk about that later.”

Yu turns his back, then, and starts walking off in his original direction at what he hopes seems like a normal pace. It’s rude, and he knows it, but he doesn’t have any alternatives that will end well for him. Or, rather, he simply just doesn’t want to consider or choose those alternatives. 

He doesn’t get to go very far before he’s stopped. 

“Yuhua.” His given name sounds strange coming from Chrysos’ mouth. “Do you know what I’d appreciate in exchange? An explanation.”

“For what?” he asks, turning around again but refusing to meet Chrysos’ eyes.

“You know what I’m talking about.”

Yu’s mouth feels so, so dry. Still, he musters all the false sincerity he can, letting it bleed deep into his voice as he replies, “No, I don’t. I’m sorry.”

The heels of Chrysos’ shoes click, clack against the floor with startling emphasis. “I don’t appreciate you continuing to lie to my face,” he says, voice dangerously soft. “I found you unconscious at the Purple Stage last night, holding onto something you shouldn’t have looked for. Do you want to deny it any further?”

Holding onto something I shouldn’t have looked for? That’s rich.

“Maybe I should ask what you were doing there,” Yu deflects. “Isn’t your convenient presence equally as suspicious?”

“The Film Research Club was debriefing late into the night. You can ask anyone about it.” Chrysos narrows his eyes further. “That’s when I saw you. To be frank, it’s more of an alibi than yours.”

“Well—”

“And,” Chrysos interrupts, now that he’s found a weak point, “that’s not all. Don’t think I don’t know about the other blot stones you’ve been hiding.”

Yu freezes, struck with the overwhelming feeling of he definitely shouldn’t know that. That this has gone very, very wrong—or that this conversation wasn’t really within his control from the very beginning. 

Of course, it isn’t that he hid those dangerous crystals for malicious purposes—just that someone has to do something about them, but now he has no idea what would happen if everyone found out. 

And at this point, he’s already too far in over his head to stop.

“...How do you know that?” he asks, trying to school his expression back into place.

Chrysos basically scoffs. “It doesn’t take a genius to connect the dots. You’re lucky I’m the only one who’s noticed.”

Yu is and he knows it. That doesn’t mean he likes it at all.

“You—” Yu shuts his mouth, and feels his nails digging into the palm of his fists. “Thanks for your concern, but seriously, this isn’t any of your business. I don’t need any help.”

“Actually, I feel a little inclined to intervene. Do you even know what effects continuous blot exposure has on a normal human?” asks Chrysos incredulously.

“Does it matter if I’m just keeping them safely locked up?”

“Contrary to what you might think, you’re not invincible.”

What a disgustingly know-it-all response, one that he would have given himself if their roles were reversed. 

It’s unbearable.

“I can’t believe you’re telling me this. Remember when you almost Overblotted because you overused your signature spell?”

“And so I’ve stopped using it.” Chrysos looks at Yu with what seems to be disdain. “Can you say the same for yourself?”

“What am I supposed to do? Leave the stones somewhere and hope they’ll just despawn without affecting anyone?!” Yu throws up his hands in exasperation. “Seven, I wish it was that easy.”

“Did you consider your other options?” wonders Chrysos. He lays the facts in a sickeningly rational manner: “You could have told someone. Anyone. Maybe not us students, but I’m genuinely surprised you didn’t at the very least call on one of the teachers or the headmage to safely dispose of it.”

The possibility had crossed Yu’s mind at some point. But Crowley had always been too irresponsible, and as awful as it feels to admit it, Yu doesn’t truly trust any of the adults at Night Raven College. He doesn’t trust a lot of people, come to think of it.

“It’s because I thought about it that I came to the conclusion I should just handle it myself. Are you going to stop being a hypocrite now? I mean, having other options never kept you from going off on your own—like with the anemones.” 

That seems to be the spark that makes Chrysos bristle, shaking his scathingly polite Octavinelle exterior. “If you must know—”

“I’m dying to hear your excuses,” Yu drawls, “because the last I remember, you would go off and pursue debt-evading or rebellious students on your own—you would go off and ‘handle’ them yourself.” 

His mouth is running faster than his mind now, but he can’t be bothered to stop it. 

“Don’t you remember that, too? I’m sure it must have been so satisfying in the moment when you were beating Ace up—him, magicless and defenseless, and you with all the power, feeling like you were in the right because no one else was there to govern your actions—”

“Yu.” Something has snapped. Chrysos’ voice is low and deadly, now brimming with palpable anger. “Are you willing to shut your mouth, or should I shut it for you?”

Yu lets himself laugh cynically. “Funny, because I’ve been wanting to ask you the same thing. Can’t take what you dish out either, huh—”

——?!

He almost falls backwards from the force of being struck. Pain erupts on his left cheek and under the hand he instinctively brings up to feel at it. 

It hurts, but one look at the almost feral anger in Chrysos’ eyes and a sick part of Yu feels satisfied, like he’s in control again. 

Still, Yu knows he’s going to regret this later. They probably both will. 

Not that it makes a difference. 

When Chrysos aggressively grabs him by the front of his shirt, Yu can’t help but smirk, even when disoriented from being punched in the face. He reaches a hand up to dig his nails into the flesh of Chrysos’ arm. “Resorting to violence because you have no other arguments?”

“Resorting to deflection because you’re obviously in the wrong?” Chrysos retorts, bearing the expression of one who knows he’s being provoked but still wants to give in to it. As a matter of fact, he probably has the strength to kill Yu right here and now. His unwavering death grip is proof enough of that.

But Yu pays it little mind, refusing to give in to his fear, swallowing it down—he’s been at other people’s mercy in this world since the start, it’s nothing new. “Like that’s your place to decide?”

A derisive scoff escapes him.

“Why don’t you keep doing what you do for everyone else, and mind your own damn business?”

He shifts his weight and kicks Chrysos’ shin as hard as he can, not above targeting a merman’s weakness. 

Chrysos grimaces, stumbling, and his grip lessens. Yu takes advantage of it to try and thrash out of his hold, but Chrysos’ reaction time is far faster: he reaches to grab fistfuls of Yu’s shirt again, making sure the TA can’t run away like he planned.

“You’re a fucking idiot,” Chrysos hisses, everything about him in disarray: strands of hair falling out of their perfect arrangement, polite diction discarded. “You can get what I’m saying through your head, but you keep choosing not to.”

“And?—”

There’s another cruel, quick response right on the tip of Yu’s tongue, but it never leaves his mouth. He stays defiantly silent, watching Chrysos’ shoulders shakily rise and fall with simmering anger. Watching Chrysos inhale sharply and draw back his fist—

The next thing Yu knows, he’s on his side, an inelegant heap on the floor. The same part of his face aches, a burst of pain that makes it hard to see. 

As he sits up, Chrysos approaches him.

“You—... I—...” 

For a few seconds, Chrysos starts and stops, trying to find something to say amid the obviously enraged haze of his mind. 

“...Sometimes, I can’t believe you,” he finally says, letting a resigned venom seep into his words. “Preaching all these things and never putting them into practice with yourself.”

Yu waits—for him to say something else, to do something else—but nothing comes.

Chrysos just walks away, and then there’s no one else left in the hallway. It’s an anticlimactic ending, if he could even call it that. A fight that fizzled into nothing but dead silence.

…Only then, once left to his own devices again, does the bitter adrenaline wear off; and Yu shamefully concedes to no one but himself—

Maybe, just maybe, there was more validity to Chrysos’ words than he was willing to admit.

[kindahoping4forever]

Threw Out Our Cloaks & Daggers Because It's Morning Now // Ashton Irwin

The bulk of this fic was a WIP I'd been sitting on for months because while I loved the idea, it just never felt Right. I've also been working on a particular arc for Gardener!Ash for most of this year but had been struggling to figure out how to get there. During the impromptu hiatus from writing I took this month, I realized this idea could add the type of color and depth to the Gardener!Ash series that I'd been needing to set up my arc and everything fell into place from there! As always, @cal-puddies is my hero and MVP.

Warnings: Moderate angst comes to the land of Domestic Thirst. No spoilers but obviously there's some sort of resolution because there's also dirty talk, unprotected sex in an established relationship, a handful of uses of the word 'Daddy', brief oral sex performed on a male and cum play.

Word Count: 5755

Gardener!Ash Masterlist

Masterlist // Ko-Fi and 2021 Taglist linked above

Reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated!

You were only gone for one night but you can't believe how good it feels to sleep in your own bed again, to feel the warmth of your boyfriend next to you. Morning comes and you roll over to see him still sleeping soundly at your side and a rush of emotions overwhelm you. Things have been so crazy recently, you can’t remember the last time you had the privilege of waking him up. You’ll never take it for granted again.

You gingerly trace over the condor on the back of his neck, rubbing your thumb over the nail imprints you left around the wings, when you feel him start to stir. “Morning, baby,” he croaks, voice heavy with sleep, worn from staying up and talking things through with you.

“Hiya,” you answer sweetly, brushing his hair off his face. “Sleep alright?”

“Better than I did without you beside me," he admits, leaning into your touch. "Let's not do that again, k?"

2 Days Earlier...

“Missed you this morning.”

Your smile wavers a bit as a sense of deja vu hits you and you realize just how often you’ve been greeting your boyfriend with that phrase but you make an effort to recover as he approaches the patio, tossing his gardening gloves on the table as he opens his arms to you.

Ashton presses a kiss to your lips before replying, “Keep tellin’ ya, gotta get up with me one of these days and try some yoga up on the roof. Nothin’ like it, starting the morning off feeling grateful and appreciating all the natural beauty the morning sun has to offer.”

“Well, I’m sure the sun is lovely but I miss appreciating the natural beauty of the full moon I used to see when you’d stay in bed with me until my alarm went off,” you smirk, grabbing a handful of his ass.

He giggles but you detect a hint of sadness in his eyes just before he pulls you into an embrace. “Might be able to arrange one of those for you sometime too,” he jokes.

You burrow silently into his chest and he pecks at your forehead before removing his straw gardening hat and plopping it on your head as he ducks inside the house with a cackle.

You lovingly shake your head at his antics as you walk to the edge of the patio, looking out to see what he’s been working on. Typically the thought of Ash toiling away in his garden would make your heart skip a beat but he’s been spending a lot of time out here in recent weeks. By the time you wake up in the mornings, he’s already out starting a new project and he’s almost always still out there when you’ve finished with your work for the day. With the band coming out of their hiatus and taking up more of his time, you know it’s important for him to have something that’s just his that he can unwind with but you miss him all the same, miss the days when you alone could be that distraction for him.

Ashton reemerges from the house, glass of ice water in hand, and sits in the lounge chair by the door.

You walk over, interested. “You done for the day, handsome? I was thinking about going for a walk if you’d like to join me.”

“Aww, that sounds nice, baby, but I’ve actually got to jump on a management call with the guys in a few,” he explains, downing his water in one long gulp. “Why don’t we have a nice dinner together, though? Let’s order something good and catch up.”

You murmur your agreement and kiss his cheek before returning his hat to his head. Your walk is a bit longer than you intended but it felt nice to relax your mind and stretch your legs after a long day of being inside working. The sky is nearing dusk by the time you get home and you’re surprised to return to a dark house. You check Ash’s usual haunts - the garden, the basement studio, the kitchen - before you eventually find him in the bedroom, face down asleep on the bed with all the lights off.

You smile wistfully at the sight. He’s been running himself ragged between the band, helping friends with their projects and working on his own. This isn’t the first time you’ve found him like this, his mind reasoning he’ll just “rest his eyes” for a few minutes only for his body to insist that he nap for much longer. You sigh, kick off your shoes and curl up beside him. It’s not exactly the reconnecting evening you were hoping for but at this point, any time spent next to Ashton is a gift you’re more than happy to receive.

The next thing you know, your face is being peppered with kisses and a gentle but firm touch is shaking your arm.

“Baby?” He says softly, smiling sheepishly at you as your eyes flutter open. “You could’ve woken me up, love, I didn’t mean to knock out like that.”

You hum, leaning into him, eyes adjusting to the bedside light he turned on. “If you need it, you need it, dude… it’s not like I see you sleep much these days anyways,” you point out, stroking his stubbly cheek. He'd recently decided to shave his beard and let it regrow and you always forget how much younger he looks without it. “Been meaning to talk to you about that, honestly.”

“Yeah… my head’s kind of all over the place right now so sleep has been… fitful, I guess,” he admits, eyes failing to meet yours. He doesn’t offer more of an explanation and you can tell right now isn’t the time to press the issue. “Sorry I fucked up our dinner.”

You shrug. “No big. Too late to just order a pizza?”

He smiles warmly at you, relieved at your understanding. “Think that one we like on Ventura should still be open.”

“Let’s do that please,” you say with a yawn, which he attempts to muffle with a sweet peck to your lips before reaching for his phone on the nightstand. You watch him place your order and wrap your arms around as much of him as you can reach when he’s done. You quietly offer, “You know if you ever wanna talk about anything that’s going on, I’m here. Doesn’t matter what time of night.”

You feel Ashton relax into your embrace, giving a long and cleansing exhale. “I know, baby… love you,” he breathes. You’re surprised but happy to have him stay resting in your arms until the doorbell rings to announce your dinner.

On a whim, you go back into the bedroom with the pizza and eating in bed proves to be the right choice; the two of you make easy and light conversation as you eat, sitting cross-legged next to each other, smiling like goofy teenagers everytime your bare knees touch.

You’re pretty sure he sleeps through the night for once and you notice him lying closer to you than usual. He typically keeps to his side of the bed but tonight he alternates wrapping himself around you with sleeping on his side right next to you, a hand on your stomach or thigh if he can reach. You find it curious but sweet and enjoy it for what it is.

You can’t help but feel a little disappointed when you wake up alone again; the morning air feels extra cold after being surrounded by Ashton’s warmth all night. You peek out the window and sure enough, he’s already in the garden. You shrug because what else can you do and you head off to start getting ready for your day.

You don’t see him again until after your work day is over and you pad into the kitchen to rinse out the mug you’ve been using all day. You weren’t even sure he was home at first, the house is so quiet and he almost always has music playing in the background. Your heart leaps when you see him showered and out of his gardening clothes, sitting with his computer at the kitchen island but your excitement quickly fades when you notice how stressed he looks as his fingers fly across the keyboard, an email reply on one side of the screen, some sort of calendar on the other.

You chew your lip, torn between wanting to ask him what’s wrong and wanting to wait for him to come to you about it. The problem is you feel like you’ve been waiting for that moment for weeks now and it’s becoming clear Ash either doesn’t want your help or doesn’t know how to ask for it. You’ve both always been careful not to overstep in each other’s personal business; you love the idea that you’re partners but ultimately two separate people living independent lives that you choose to share with each other. With Ashton not having toured for so long now, your lives have blurred together in ways they never really had before and you’re starting to realize it’s not so easy to just go back to the way things used to be.

You’re so caught up in your thoughts you don’t notice that he’s stood at the sink next to you until he reaches over and sets his own mug under the tap.

“The invite said ‘cocktail casual’ but I think maybe you’ve taken the idea a little too literally,” he cracks, eyeing the band hoodie and sweatpants you’re sporting. You purse your lips at him as you try to understand the joke, unsure if you’re confused because you weren’t paying attention just now or if you’re missing something else. Another beat passes without your response, so he addresses you again, still playful but with a slight edge to his voice this time. “Seriously, love, if you’re gonna shower, we need you in there ASAP, Cal’s gonna be here in like 40 minutes and we both know it’s gonna take you at least that to get dressed.”

You furrow your brow, now entirely confident your boyfriend has wildly different plans for your evening than you expected. You turn to him with narrow eyes and say, “Babe, I mean this with all the love in my heart but I have no idea what the fuck you’re talking about.”

Ash gives you a 'yeah right' smirk and when you continue to stare at him blankly, a mixture of alarm and annoyance washes over his face. "The dinner party we're going to?" Your expression remains unchanged. He presses on, "The people from the new label?"

You shrug apologetically, "I know nothing about this."

"We one hundred percent talked about it."

"When?"

"Recently," he insists, jaw tensing more with every syllable.

You shake your head emphatically. "It's OK if you forgot to tell me, Ash."

He scoffs, running his hand over his face like he always does when he's getting agitated. "Well it's OK if you forgot that I told you."

You roll your eyes. "Like I don't have a distinct memory of every conversation we've had the past few weeks, they happen so infrequently," you mutter.

Your eyes dart up to meet his as soon as the words leave your mouth, much more bitter than you imagined they'd sound. His expression changes rapidly, shuffling through surprise, hurt, anger, confusion and finally landing on incredulous exasperation. "And what the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

You wince at his tone, the sharp one you’re used to him using with invasive journalists or the occasional tense moment with a bandmate, one he’s only directed at you a handful of times over the course of your relationship. The two of you love talking with each other so when an issue arises, it’s only natural that you discuss it rather than squabble. Arguments are rare but when they do happen… boy, do they.

The frustration that’s been brewing between you finally spills over into petty bickering which inevitably leads to some regrettably mean barbs and before you know it, you’re storming out the door, smart enough to get away before you say something you can’t take back. You’re proud that you make it down the street before the first tear spills down your cheek, that you manage to make it to your best friend’s house without pulling over to call and apologize.

Ashton is as stubborn as you are so you’re not surprised when you don’t hear from him that evening. As you lay on your friend’s couch, trying to remember how to sleep without Ash’s body acting as a space heater next to you, you replay the day’s events in your mind. Something like this was bound to happen sometime, the way you’d both been carrying on like your circumstances hadn’t changed was naive and unsustainable. But now that you’re hours removed from it, you’re not even sure how the fight started or what it was really about anymore. You’re just sure that you miss him and not just being beside you tonight, you miss the way he was, the way you were a few months ago before real life started creeping in again.

You’re not angry, just frustrated and more than a little sad. As your body finally gives into the exhaustion and you drift off to sleep, your pride chimes in and you decide to wait him out, let him apologize first, let him make an effort to give you the attention you’ve been craving. But when you wake up a few hours later with no cheerful whistling coming from the shower, no coffee smells coming from the kitchen, no scratchy stubble on your face and neck, coaxing you out of bed, it only takes a few moments for your resolve to crack. You look around the unfamiliar, empty room and become suddenly, painfully aware that this isn’t where you belong, even temporarily.

You get dressed and hide your phone in a drawer because you know if you don’t, you’ll be obsessively checking it every two minutes to see if he’s messaged you. You set up your laptop and try to power through your work for the day. You allow yourself a peek at lunchtime and you feel your entire body immediately warm when you see his name in your notifications. You click on the text and smile at the sight of a single bouquet emoji, his go-to when he’s testing the waters for an apology, an olive branch of sorts. You text him back a simple heart and hide your phone away again, eager to finish up your work so you can get home and apologize properly.

This Morning...

“Well, I can’t promise no more fighting but I can predict that’s the last time I storm out like that… that was the first night I’ve slept alone since I moved in… can’t say that I missed it,” you smile wistfully, fingers scratching at his scruffy cheek.

“Yeah… when I came home to the empty house and it started to sink in that you probably weren’t coming home… I can’t remember the last time I felt so unsettled,” Ashton recalls somberly, grabbing your hand to kiss before interlacing his fingers with yours.

The pangs of guilt and regret you feel match the hints you detect swimming in his eyes as he softly gazes at you. You lean in to him and as your lips slowly move against each other, you feel the mood of the room lighten. You smile and coo, "Tell you what, though, if you want to pretend-fight every now and again for the sake of making up, I'm down for that."

He grins, running a hand up and down your side. "For a couple who doesn’t fight often, we are remarkably good at that part, aren’t we?"

"Mmm… I’ll say. You really forgave the shit outta me, babe.”

Ash has always been better with words than you are but you’ve learned that the ways you express yourselves after the apologies are just as important as the sorries themselves. And as you admire the red scratches up and down his back, the way his light brown curls, still wild and tangled from your fingers, pour onto his pillow to reveal the subtle bite marks decorating his neck… you conclude you definitely got your point across.

He laughs, sliding his hand under the hem of your t-shirt, letting his fingers trace over your bare skin before bringing you closer. “Took my apology so well… so generous,” he teases suggestively, the kiss he pulls you into noticeably more passionate than the last. “Y’know, now that I’ve had time to sleep on it, think there’s a couple more things I’m feeling sorry about.”

“Glad to hear you say that because I've suddenly got the strongest urge to hold you accountable,” you smirk, reaching down to squeeze the bulge that’s been noticeably growing in his boxers.

Ash chuckles naughtily against your lips as the two of you share another heated kiss. You let out a slight squeal as he easily swings your leg over his body and pulls you to lay on top of him. His kisses are hungry but his hands are slow and unhurried as they move over your body, from running through your hair to dipping under your shirt, dancing over your back before settling on your ass, squeezing and massaging your cheeks over your panties.

“Missed you,” he says quietly against your lips and you smile into the kiss, knowing he’s referring to more than just the night you spent away.

You lean over and tongue around his earring before attaching your lips to the spot just underneath his ear that always makes him moan, sucking what’s bound to be a large mark on his skin. “All mine,” you softly declare, rolling your hips over his, relishing the feeling of his hardness underneath you.

He groans at your words, sliding his fingers under the leg of your underwear to run along your folds. “All yours?” He teases, swirling your wetness around, ghosting over your clit. “Think you’re mine, baby. Who’s all this for? Huh? Got you soaking wet first thing in the morning?” He teases a finger against your entrance but never quite pushes in.

“Y- you, Ash,” you murmur, trying your best to move your hips at the right angle that’ll catch you some friction from his fingers but to no avail.

“Goddamn right, baby,” he growls, rewarding you by rubbing a few slow circles around your clit. “Pussy’s all mine. Missed it while you were gone.” He sinks a finger inside you, then a second one. He maintains eye contact as he rocks you slowly against them until he decides you’re done. As soon as he withdraws them, you grab his wrist and lift his fingers to your mouth, sucking them clean.

Without missing a beat, Ashton brings you back up to his lips, moaning as he tastes your essence on your own tongue. You pull back, resting your forehead on his, panting, “And what about this?” You pull his cock out of his boxers, stroking slowly as you lilt, “Missed this thick cock while I was gone… missed me so much, last night wasn’t enough... already so hard, leaking so much.” You thumb over his slit, dabbing at the precum beading there and you both watch as a long, sticky string of it follows nearly all the way to your mouth when you lift your finger to taste.

“Fuck, baby… need you now,” he groans with a newfound urgency. He pulls your panties to the side and groans again, deeper, when you immediately start grinding down, rubbing your wetness over his shaft. “Baby, please. Wanna see you ride this cock… ‘s what it was made for. Just for you and your perfect little pussy to take.”

You lean in to give him a filthy kiss that’s all tongue while you sink down on him, the both of you whining at the feeling of your wet heat engulfing him.

“Oh my god, Ash,” you breathe, moving your hips methodically, letting every inch of his cock drag torturously slow against your walls. “Always so good inside me… I’ll never get enough.” You lean back, bracing yourself on his strong thighs, moaning as you feel them flex underneath you as he struggles not to buck up into you.

Ashton lets out another deep groan and you bite your lip, knowing it means he’s caught up watching his cock disappear inside you over and over again; you know it’s his favorite part of having you ride him. “Never get tired of watching you take this cock, baby,” he huffs, confirming your suspicion. He runs his palms over your thighs, fighting the urge to grab onto your hips because he wants you to feel confident in your control. “Such a good girl, taking every last bit of it… look so pretty doing it. Bet it feels as good as it looks, doesn’t it, baby?”

A whimpered reply is the best you can offer as his hand travels to thumb at your clit. You start moving your hips more rapidly, trying to take advantage of the sensations he’s giving you but it’s not enough. You shift forward, flattening your palms against his broad chest, using it for leverage as you rock yourself at a moderate pace, gasping sharply as you immediately feel how the new angle changes how he’s hitting inside you.

“Ash… fuck, babe,” you whine, voice shaking as you speed up even more. “Never felt like this until you… filled so fucking good… never gonna want anything else. Just need you.”

He murmurs your name softly as he slips his hands up your t-shirt to cup your breasts, kneading them, his large hands using just the right amount of pressure to make you moan. He quickly decides he needs to hear more and tugs at the fabric; you understand he wants you to remove it and as soon as you peel the shirt off, his mouth is all over you.

He leaves wet kisses all over one tit while his hand massages the other and then he switches, never leaving you feeling anything less than spoiled. The scruff on his face is already causing a delicious burn on your skin so when he gently grazes your nipple with his teeth, the painful pleasure is almost too much for you to handle and you cry out before redirecting his attention by nudging his face so you can catch his lips in a needy kiss.

You pull away, rubbing over the light hair on his chest. His fingers are content to play with your nipples while you resume bouncing on his cock, settling into a rhythm that has you both breathing heavy.

You feel your climax building and breathe his name over and over like a prayer, almost as if you can’t believe you made it home and he’s here with you, giving you this pleasure. Ash picks up on your energy and shifts his hands to your waist, letting his touch reassure you. “I’m here, baby, come on,” he soothes, giving your hips a tight squeeze. “I’ve got you, love... wanna feel you cum.”

You feel like a woman possessed, pawing at your own breasts, riding his cock as fast as you can, wishing you could go faster but it feels so good you’re almost too overwhelmed to keep moving. “Fuck… Ash… fuuuuck… fuck me, fuck me, fuck me,” you plead breathlessly. You whimper again and again, feeling your release so close and yet nowhere near close enough. “Need to cum… need you… please… oh Daddy, please.”

You and Ash hadn’t been together very long when you first let a ‘Daddy’ slip in bed. You had no idea where it came from, you’d never called anyone that and it wasn’t a kink either of you had discussed any interest in. But you were already so comfortable with him that you never felt embarrassed about it, you both just giggled and went with it and he gently teased you about it in the following days. You decided to own it, dropping it occasionally as a half-sexy, half-ironic inside joke between you until one day the two of you realized just how serious it’d actually become, how much it seemed to affect you both on a primal level. Your use of the word evolved, like things always do when you’re with someone for a long time; it went from a bonding joke to a naughty cue to something reserved for special occasions and these days, it seems to only slip out subconsciously during your neediest, most desperate moments.

You’re so far gone the words you’ve just said don’t even register in your mind until you hear the guttural noise coming from Ashton’s throat and you feel his hold on your hips tighten to an almost painful degree. Your eyes flicker open to meet his and the excitement and love you see, the eagerness to return to that era of shared intimacy with you, is almost enough to push you over the edge.

“What was that, baby?” He teases, holding your hips still so he can buck his into you at a deviously slow pace. “Didn’t hear you… think you might need to say it a little louder.”

You try matching his rhythm as he rocks into you but his grip is so tight it’s no use, but you do keep trying because you like the struggle and he likes denying you. You lock eyes and stare him down for as long as you can, almost as if you’re challenging him, until he hits that one spot inside you that forces you to close your eyes and shudder. “I said…” You start, trying to find your breath as he moves his hips to match the staccato rhythm of your words. “Fuck me. Please. Need you. To make me cum. To fuck me. Daddy.” Your voice gets louder with every word and by the end of your request, you’re practically shrieking.

“That’s my girl,” Ash says in a voice both syrupy and dominating. “My baby wants to cum, my baby’s gonna cum. Give this pretty pussy what it deserves.” He gives your body an affectionate squeeze before he plants his feet flat on the bed for leverage and begins fucking up into you with impressive force.

You want to cry out, to call his name, to tell him how glad you are to be his, how you always want to be, how every time with him is better than the last and as exciting as the first. But you’re so fucking close and his cock is hitting so deep inside you, you barely have the brainpower to keep holding onto him the way that you are.

The only sounds filling the room are Ashton’s belabored grunts, your strained whines and the sound of his skin slapping against yours. A low, rumbly moan stirs in your throat and you both know this is it. He’s careful to keep his thrusts steady as you start to fold in on yourself, tensing from the sensations surging through your body. He feels you clench around him hard, your breath coming out in short, huffy sobs that seem to keep perfect time with the feeling of your pussy pulsing on his cock.

You’re seeing stars by the time you fall forward against him, arms made of jelly. Before he even has time to check on you, you push up on his chest, balancing yourself upright again. He gives you a half-concerned, half-amused look and you answer his unspoken question, “I’ve got one more apology to make.” He shakes his head, smiling and gestures for you to take the lead again.

You bounce on him, knowing he loves to watch the way your tits sway when you ride him like this. “Tell me when,” you direct, speeding up your pace. You’re nowhere near the speed he was moving at but it still only takes a couple minutes of work to get Ash groaning and grabbing at your ass.

"Love you like this, baby," he mumbles, kneading your cheeks as you move on him. He lets you get a few more pumps in before his fingers are digging into you and he’s growling, “So fucking beautiful… squeezing me so fuckin' tight, baby… ‘s all I can take, got me too fuckin’ close.”

The urgency in his voice springs you into action and you climb off and swiftly take him in your mouth. Ash moans loudly as you quickly bob your head up and down, not wanting to lose momentum. You flutter your tongue along the underside of his cock, murmuring as you taste your own release on his skin. You pull up, letting your hand continue to work him and you let the spit pour down your chin as you look at him and rasp, “Gonna let me have it all, Daddy? Promise I’ll be good and take every drop.”

Ashton props himself up on his elbows, stroking through your hair before his loving but firm hand starts coaxing you back down; his hazel eyes are clouded with lust as he meets your gaze and breathes, “Don’t swallow.”

A thrill runs through you and you share a mischievous look with him as you lower your mouth on him. His hand stays in your hair, applying light pressure as you sink down as far as you can before you start gagging; he pulls you back and guides you to bob more shallowly and seconds later, with a loud shout of your name, he’s cumming.

You focus on the sounds of his grunting and groaning as the hot liquid shoots across your tongue; you close your eyes, trying your hardest to follow his direction and fight your instinct to swallow. You pull back so you’re suckling at the head and you feel his grip on your hair start to slack as he takes his other hand and gives himself a few light strokes, milking out every last drop for you.

With an exhausted sigh, Ashton gently tugs your head back and instructs, “Show me.” You eagerly open your mouth, wiggling your tongue around, enough to let him see his release swirling around but careful not to let any of it spill from your lips. The satisfied look on his face has you feeling like you might cum again on the spot. “Good girl,” he smirks proudly. “Now make it disappear for me.”

A sly smile of your own spreads across your face as you let some - but not all - of the substance slide down your throat before leaning in to kiss him, murmuring as he takes the hint and deepens it, dipping his tongue in your mouth for a taste. You take it a step further, using your tongue to push the remaining cum inside his mouth, a chill running down your spine as he moans against your lips.

He tugs your bottom lip between his teeth before pulling away, giving you an amused look. You shrug playfully, explaining, “You just said ‘make it disappear,’ you didn’t specify how.”

He chuckles and pulls you closer for the slow, reassuring kiss he typically lays on you after a kinky, more intense session like you just had. You smile softly at each other and when the moment is over, he gently grabs your hand and leads you to the bathroom for a quick cleanup.

You return to the bedroom a few moments later and Ash resituates the bed while you slip on a new shirt and underwear. You crawl back under the covers together and he promptly lays you on his chest, hand once again sneaking up the back of your tee, craving as much skin on skin contact as he can get.

“You sure about not wanting to fight ever again? Don’t wanna miss out on fun like that,” you joke, heart swelling at the ridiculous cackle that rattles through your boyfriend’s chest.

“Maybe we pick smaller, lower stakes things to fight about,” he muses, kissing your forehead. “What movie to watch, who has to load the dishwasher. No more serious shit.”

You cock your head at him amusedly. “Maybe… it is nice knowing the ‘Daddy’ card still works, though.” He pokes at you and you let out a squeal which he silences with another sweet kiss.

There’s a beat and then Ashton sighs, “I am sorry, baby. I wish I hadn’t said --- “

“Hey. No, Ash, we promised we weren’t gonna do that,” you cut him off, lifting your head to look at him. “That’s the past now. Who did what, what was said… ‘s not important. This is. This is all that matters.” You press a kiss to his shoulder, lightly pecking across his collarbones until you hear him give a deep exhale, letting go of whatever guilt he was still holding onto.

You settle back on him and he strokes his fingers through your hair, humming softly before thinking out loud, “I think I’d like us to try and set aside some time to spend together each week, no matter what we have going on. Obviously when it comes time to tour again, it’ll have to be virtual but… I just… I wouldn’t say we’ve started to take each other for granted… I just think maybe living together has gotten us used to how much we need each other and so now that we finally have other things that need our attention ---”

“When that need goes unfulfilled, disaster strikes,” you muse.

“Exactly.”

You gaze up at him fondly. “I think that’s a great idea, Ash.”

“Good,” he says, satisfied, before following up in a much softer voice. “I just don’t ever want to feel that disconnected from you again. I didn’t like it.”

You pout, squeezing yourself as tightly to him as you can. “Me neither, babe.”

The two of you lay quietly for a few moments. You’ve just started to drift off back to sleep when his voice breaks the silence. “Nap and then breakfast?”

“Mmm,” you approve, hands running across his chest hair. “Pancakes.”

Ashton clicks his tongue. “See, I was thinking breakfast burritos…”

You look up at him, love, mischief and exhaustion in your eyes. “Ooh, are we fighting again?” You suggestively ask, cocking an eyebrow.

He grins, pulling you back into his embrace. “Definitely nap first. We’re gonna need the energy if we’re gonna make up anymore today.” --- @conversecake @cxddlyash @cashtonasfuck @talkfastromance4 @camelliastreet @itjustkindahappenedreally @saywhatnow07 @mymindwide @suchalonelysunflower @pxrxmoore @findingliam-o @fedorable-killjoys @trix-arent-for-kids @olivia-foster-irwin @saphseoul @calmsweetcreature @onthecliffside-mgc @feliznavidaddycal @blacktreacles @maggiesupertramp @karajaynetoday @ashtonangst @sunshineeashton @aladyofalbion @youngblood199456 @xsongbirdx @fairytrice @calumrose @irwindoll @polycashton @in-superbloom @2fangirl4u @highstwildflower @t3lkfast @bport76

[thatbritishactor]

Adventures in success (part 8)

Pairing : Ben Barnes x Reader

Summary:  Ben’s agent is retiring and the firm wants you to represent him. It’s going to be hard for you not to mix work with feelings.

Warning: Implication of sex, some cursing, but it’s mostly fluff.

Type : Slow Burn, Fluff

Words: 5,000

Part 1     Part 2       Part 3       Part 4       Part 5      Part 6    Part 7   Part 9

My Masterlist

Gif by bilyrusso

OH BOY ! This was the hardest chapter I’ve ever had to write. It’s taken me 7 hours to put this together. I hope that you enjoy it, that you’re happy with the ending (although an epilogue is coming!!!).

Please, comment, reblog, write to me I want to hear your thoughts on this ending I’M VERY EMOTIONAL OKAY????

I.

You meet Ben at the airport, where the two of you will fly to Venice for the film festival. Ever since that night where he came to care for you while you were sick, you’ve stayed in regular contact. You’re pretty nervous about accompanying him to Venice, especially because you’re scared of what people might think. You’re worried about PDA, about people finding out about your “relationship”, which is crazy because it’s not even a real one yet. Ben and you definitely stopped being friends a while ago, but you’re not official yet. That gray area is slowly driving you insane, and you wonder if he’s feeling the same.

You know that he’ll ask you to drop his contract soon, and you’ve thought about it a lot. Actually, it’s been the only thing you’ve been thinking about this last week. It seems like it’s the only solution, and even though some part of you is wary about letting someone else manage his career, it’s the price to pay if you want to be together.

You’ve come to accept the idea that he seems to really care about you (even though it’s still hard for you to admit it), and you’re tired of fighting with yourself. You’re ready for this, all of it, a real shot at a relationship with him. You’ve started to consider a few other agents to replace you, wanting to leave Ben in the best of hands.

You’re pretty nervous, considering you’re going to spend the next seventeen hours with him, stuck between planes and airports. It’s practically an entire day, and there’s a stop in Rome before you’ll take another flight for Venice. You’ve come prepared -as always- terrified of what might happen if you find yourselves without an occupation. You’ve brought games, your laptop with movies and tv shows, scripts and a book. It’s overkill, you know that, but you can’t help yourself. You know that you won’t be able to resist if he tries to kiss you, so you have brought cock blocks, in the form of occupations.

You arrive at the Terminal and look for him, excitement buzzing inside of your chest. You spot him waiting in the chairs, scrolling his phone. He’s cut his hair short, but he still looks breathtakingly handsome. He’s wearing a white shirt, his favorite cap, shorts and sneakers. He looks relaxed and you could stare at him endlessly, taking him in. You approach him, smiling, and he looks up at you when you’re a few feet from him.

He gets up, with the biggest grin on his face, that makes your insides melt, and hugs you lightly, saying your name. You feel the usual butterflies in your stomach, but let the feelings immerse you. You’re okay with this now, you just have to resist jumping his bones in public. You can do this, you think to yourself.

“Are your ready for the longest trip?” you ask, beaming at him.

“I’ve done worse” he answers, smirking, his dark eyes fixed on your face, and he’s so charming, you want to screech.

“Always showing off” you say, rolling your eyes at him, before taking a seat. He sits next to you, laughing.

“Are you not nervous?” he asks more seriously.

Your heart skips a beat. What does he mean by that?

“About flying? Nah.” you reply, trying to dismiss him. You’re scared of what he means, if you’re scared to spend all of that time scooped up with him. Yes, yes you are. But you don’t intend to show him.

“You know me” you say, trying to sound confident. “I always come prepared” and you smile at him mischievously.

He lowers his gaze, smiling, shaking his head before looking ahead of him.“The mom vibes” he replies, “How could I forget”.

You laugh, “Can you stop it with the mom talk? It’s deeply unsettling” he bursts out laughing in response.

“I think that making you uncomfortable might be one of my favorite things” he says, taunting you.

You roll your eyes again, biting your lips. You love it that it’s easy again between the two of you. You’ve missed this.

“All right, so what have you prepared?” he asks seeming genuinely interested.

“I’ll show you once we’re in the plane” you reply, raising one eyebrow to give yourself an aura of mystery.

He laughs again, and you’re relieved that the two of you can have fun like before. You board a fifteen minutes later, and for the first three hours of the flight, you do nothing but talk.

He tells you about the shooting of season two of Shadow and Bone, of what he’s done since he’s back in LA (mostly visiting friends and taking hikes), the shows he’s currently watching… You tell him about your upcoming projects, and the last scrips you’ve read that truly excited you.

“About that” you say, reaching for your bag. “I have something for you” you say, giving him a thick scripts. He looks at it, looking puzzled and suddenly aloof, saying nothing.

“I know that our uh… professional relationship will end soon” you blurt out, sensing that he’s tense “But when I got my hands on this I immediately thought about you” you add. He looks like he’s regaining some confidence as relief washes over his face.

“What is it?” he asks in a low voice. You feel your heart tightening in your chest, having no idea why.

“It’s Phoebe Waller Bridge’s new project” you reply trying to gauge his reaction.

“Oh I’ve heard about her of course” he replies, still in a faint voice.

“Have you watched Fleabag?” you ask, a bit too eagerly.

“I haven’t” he admits, and the look on your face makes him laugh. “I know, I know” he says, sensing that you’re judging him.

“You know what?” you ask, taking your laptop out of your backpack, “I’ve come prepared. We’re going to watch it together” you add with a voice that doesn’t leave any room for arguing.

He bursts out laughing, and he finally seems to relax. “Yes, M’am” he replies, setting back on his seat, a light smile on his lips. Your chest tightens again, but it isn’t because you’ve upset him. This time, it’s because you have to struggle not to lean in and kiss him. You blink a few times, trying to get a hold of yourself before opening your laptop and launching the show.

The two of you binge watch the first season, laughing and taking breaks to discuss the plot and the flawless acting and writing. By the end of season one, lunch is served and you take a break to discuss the script you’ve brought him.

“You know I want to take some time off work, right?” he asks casually.

“You’ve mentioned it before” you reply, frowning a bit. “But I didn’t know these were concrete plans”.

“I haven’t taken a break in a while” he says in a smooth voice, “And I want to focus on my personal life”. He adds, his black eyes on yours, and your heart drops, joining your stomach. You escape his gaze and focus on your meal. Does he mean you? What the fuck does he mean? Your hands start slightly shaking and you curse yourself for your exaggerated reaction. Chill the fuck out, man you think to yourself, closing briefly your eyes.

“Filming’s gonna take place in London” you say in a low voice, not wanting to betray your emotion. “I thought it might interest you to shoot next to your family” You add. You don’t have the guts to look back at him yet, so you play with a piece of bread.

“We’ll see” Ben says, still in his unbothered, smooth voice, and you take a big breath, trying to be discreet to calm your nerves.

“Right now I don’t care about anything except the season two of that show” he says, and you can feel the smile in his voice. You gather your emotional strength to look back at him, and he’s looking at you with a sweet, expecting expression that sets your heart back in its place for it to slowly melt.

“The actor desires, the actor gets” you say, grabbing your laptop to set it between the two of you, grabbing an earpiece.

He reaches for his earpiece and says “If only that were true” in a tantalizing tone, so you reach for his arm and lightly hit him.

“Shut up and watch the show” you say, trying to seem mad, not being able to repress a smile.

You heart flutters when Fleabag says the words “This is a love story” to the camera at the beginning of the episode, and Ben reaches for your hand, squeezing it. You squeeze it back, feeling like you could melt to the floor, and don’t have the strength to look at him. You know that it could crush you, so you lower your head for it to rest on his shoulder instead. You hear him sigh, seeming content, and the two of you watch the second season like this, holding hands and sharing an intimacy you’re slowly exploring.

The rest of the flight goes smoothly, as Ben accepts to read the script at the end of the show, agreeing with you that he needs to give it a chance. You smile triumphantly, and leaves him to his reading, before deciding to take a nap. So you put on your headphones and drift away to sleep, dreaming of him.

II.

You’ve stopped in Rome and it took all of your willpower not to leave the airport while you were waiting for the flight to Venice. It’s always been a dream of yours to visit, and you look out of the window sadly. Ben approaches you and reaches for your hand, looking at you.

“We can go after the festival” he suggests, standing close to you.

“I have to get back to work after the festival” you lament.

A silence passes between the two of you. You’re sad that you can’t even see the city from the airport.

“I’ll take you to visit” Ben states abruptly “On your next vacation”. You stare at him, shocked, and meet his charcoal eyes.

“I promise” he adds, and he looks as serious as a heart attack.

You’re taken aback, literally at loss of words, and stare back in front of you. You don’t reply anything but squeeze his hand tighter, and he puts an arm around your shoulder, pressing your body against him. You shut your eyes and let yourself go for a few seconds before opening them. He rests his head on top of yours, and you can feel him taking a whiff of your hair.

“Ben” you say in a soft voice.

“Hmmm?” he responds, his face still against your hair before he presses single a light kiss at the top of your head.

“Don’t get me wrong, I could to this all day” you say, “But we need to be careful about public displays of affection ” you look up at him, and smile softly. 

“Right, sorry” he replies, slowly letting go of you. You smile sweetly at him, trying to convey your feelings with a look, and he seems to understand, before lowering his gaze and going to sit behind you, leaving you in front of the giant window to stare out of.

You board the plane for Venice, which is only an hour long, and you try to sleep. It’s late in the night and you’re jet lagged. Ben reads a book next to you, and you feel content, whole. You wish you could spend all of your time with him. It’s effortless and comforting, you think to yourself, drifting away. He wakes you up as you’re about to land, softly shaking your arm. You look out the window to see Venice approaching, filled with glee.

“I haven’t even asked you about the schedule” you suddenly realize, taking gum out of your purse and offering him some.

He takes it and states “Well, we arrive and we sleep” he starts “as it’s 11pm here. Tomorrow I’ve planned an itinerary for you, of all the places I think you should see.”

“You did?” you ask, raising your eyebrows. “I’m impressed.” you add.

“Anything for the best of agents” Ben teases you with a smile. “Tomorrow night’s the premiere of the film, and the day after is the ceremony”, he says with a sigh.

“Are you nervous?” you ask, concerned.

He breathes shakily “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t. But I have you here with me so I cannot complain”. You reach for his hand and interlace your fingers, putting your head on his shoulder, like you did in the first plane and the airport.

“I thought that PDA was forbidden” Ben says softly.

“No one can see us, it’s fine” you reply, closing your eyes, not wanting to let go of him.

III.

You’re riding in a taxi that’s taking you from the airport to the hotel. You’re still very sleepy, but struggle to keep your eyes open so you can look at the city from the car’s window. Ben’s checking his e-mail while you stare out, your heart pounding in your chest.

“I can’t wait to be tomorrow” you say, turning to him. He lifts his eyes from his phone to smile at you.

“Me neither” he replies.

You arrive at the hotel and Ben gets out of the car to open your door. “Like a true gentleman” you say, smiling.

“Shut up” Ben replies, sticking out the tip of his tongue and frowning to make a funny face.

You feel butterflies again as you stare at the hotel, suddenly nervous. Did he book one or two rooms? You start to feel warm again, not even sure of what you prefer. Ben shows you the way and you both enter. “Hello” he says to the receptionist. “I’ve booked two rooms under the name of Barnes” he announces.

Your heart beats a little slower, and you’re relieved. You sigh discreetly, not wanting him to see your reaction.

Part of you wishes he had booked only one bed for the two of you, but you don’t know if you’re completely ready for that. Most importantly, you know deep down that if you start exploring the physical side of your relationship with him, you won’t be able to do anything else for at least two weeks. It’d be too hard to keep your hands off him once you’d gotten a taste.

The two of you take the elevator to your rooms and you’re unusually quiet. You’re starting to wonder of he’s feeling nervous as well when the elevator doors open and you walk towards your rooms. They’re right next to each other and when you arrive in front of your door, you stare at him, biting your lower lip.

“Goodnight, I guess?” you ask, meeting his gaze. He looks tired as well but his eyes are bright.

“Goodnight” he says, leaning in, and he kisses you cheek softly. You close your eyes and lean into his touch, sighing. Every time he touches you, it feels like you stop hurting from a pain you didn’t even know you had. Your body is crossed by an electric current when he steps back and holds gently your hand.

“You set the pace” he says, looking into your eyes, and you feel your legs wobble. “We can take it slow. I can barely move” he adds, smiling, and it’s too much for you. You let go of your bag that crushes on the floor with a soft thunk, and you step closer to him, throwing your arms around his shoulders, crushing your lips against his. He drops his bag as well and immediately grips your waist, eagerly kissing you back. You hold him close against you, sliding your hands in his hair, kissing him, and it seems like time stops. You hear nothing except your heart beating in your ears. He leans you against your bedroom door, and his hands leave your hips to settle on your face, kissing you tenderly. Your own hands leave his hair and you caress his shoulders, deepening the kiss. His lips leave yours, and he leans a bit back to look at you. You open your eyes and are greeted by the warmth of his black irises, and you feel like you’re going to faint.

“Is this barely moving for you?” he asks, joking.

You sigh stupidly  “Shut up” you reply, sighing. “I better get into my room” you add, closing your eyes, pressing your cheek against his hand. “Or I might do something I’ll regret in the morning” you add, looking back at him.

“We wouldn’t want that” he whispers, and he kisses you again, his lips softly brushing against yours. You moan slightly and when he breaks the kiss, you feel like your chest is suddenly empty.

“Goodnight, for real this time” he says, winking at you, before he grabs his bag and opens his bedroom door.

“Night” you reply, and he closes his door. You open your room, toss your things aside and quickly get undressed. You throw yourself on the bed and bury your face in the pillow before letting out a frustrated scream.

IV.

Ben’s told you to set your alarm clock at 9am, and you’re getting ready in front of the mirror, singing. You feel happy, excited, thrilled. You’re in a city you’ve always dreamed of visiting with the man of your dreams. Things have never been better.

Well, it could get better, you think to yourself, if you shared the same bed as the man of your dreams. You dismiss that thought, frowning. He’s still technically your client, you haven’t signed anything yet, and he hasn’t explicitly asked you to date him. Maybe you should take the matters in your own hands, you think as you put on a summer dress. It’s pretty hot out, and you’ve chosen a light dress, which you know you look hot and cute in. You’ve chosen leather booties that are incredibly comfortable for you, knowing that you’ll walk all day. You put on a light jacket before grabbing your purse, checking that your sunglasses, phone and wallet are in.

Ben’s wearing jeans and a linen shirt, and he looks so pretty you want to slap him. Your restrain yourself, hoping that these urges will disappear once you’ve slept with him, and smile at him while he explains the itinerary he’s worked on.

First, he takes you to the Gallerie Dell’Accademia, a museum specialized in pre 19th century art. He plays the tourist guide perfectly, and you listen to him talking for hours.

“You’ve memorized all of this?” you ask, genuinely impressed.

“Only because I wanted to impress you” he replies, grinning.

“It’s working” you say, squeezing his hand.

You know that you should restrain yourselves, but you can’t help holding hands. You try and avoid doing it when there are a lot of people around, wary of fans or paparazzi, but most of the time, you find yourself holding his hand without even remembering reaching for it. It seems so natural and intimate.

Because of the film festival, all of the tourists are mostly gone and the museum isn’t too crowded. After a few hours gasping at the beautiful paintings and sculptures, Ben takes you to Saint Mark’s Square, or “Piazza San Marco” he says with an Italian accent.

“Jesus chrsit, have you no mercy?” you ask him.

“Nope” he replies, smiling. “I’ve already done this accent for a movie” he adds “It’s fun revisiting it”.

“Well, slow down, man, at this pace I won’t be able to last the whole day without fainting” you joke, but you’re actually serious. The man has planned an elaborate plan to make you visit the city, has memorized what seems like entire books of knowledge about arts and architecture, and now he’s talking to you in Italian? You might have to be hospitalized soon for a heart attack if he doesn’t stop.

He bursts out laughing and the two of you eat lunch on the Piazza, ordering pasta of course. You discuss the museums you’ve just visited, laughing and smiling, and it’s increasingly hard for you not to kiss him. You feel like a weight is settling on your chest as hours pass.

He takes to the “Basilica of Santa Maria della Salute” and you glare at him when he pronounces it (in your ears at least) flawlessly. He explains that it’s called this way because of an outbreak of plague during the 17th century, and it’s dedicated to the patron of health, Maria. You listen to him intently, impressed at his extensive knowledge on history, letting yourself get dragged around the city. Everywhere you look, you’re surrounded by breathtakingly beauty. You stop for an ice cream or a “gelato” as Ben puts it, before he takes you the Doge Palace.

“The Pallazo Ducalle was built in the 14th century” Ben explains “and it’s a Gothic style. These rooms are decorated by the renaissance painter Paolo Veronese” he adds, gesturing towards the beautifully painted walls. You glance around you, and the room’s almost desert. There’s two other couples down the hall and the security guard, so you reach for his hand, take it and start running towards an alcove nearby.

“What are you doing?” Ben asks, half laughing.

“Hiding to kiss you” you reply, standing on your tiptoes and reaching for his lips. His arms surround you, holding your close as he kisses you back, and he’s smiling into the kiss.

You kiss for a while like this, like two teenagers hiding from their parents. You hear some footsteps and break the kiss, your eyes widening. He’s staring at you, smiling, and his expression breaks your heart. No one’s ever looked at you this way before. You blink a few times before taking his hand.

“Let’s keep visiting” you whisper against his lips. “And find other places to hide and kiss” you add, brushing your lips along his jaw, his beard tickling you. He giggles and follows you as you lead him around the museum.

The rest of the visit is shared between admiring beautiful sculptures, paintings, giggling and stolen kisses. You feel like you’re seventeen again, but you can’t complain. There’s a nudge in your stomach that’s warning you about your reckless behavior, but you ignore it, too blissfully happy.

It’s around 4pm now, and you must finish your visit, because the two of you have to get ready for the premiere. He takes you to the bridge of sighs, and the two of you admire the grand canal, standing next to each other, his arm around your shoulders. You allow it because you’re the only ones on the bridge, reassured.

“Why is it called that way?” you ask.

“Originally, because it was the last thing convicts saw before they were imprisoned” Ben replies, looking at you. He gently puts a strand of your hair behind your ear.

“But there’s a movie in which the main character says that if a couple kiss in a gondola beneath the bridge at sunset while the church bell tool, they’ll be in love forever”. He adds, leaning in to kiss you. You burst out laughing against his lips and he leans backwards.

“That is so cheesy, Ben,” you laugh “Even for you”. And you look back at the Canal.

“Yeah well, I wanted to ask you something on this bridge actually”. Ben says softly, and you glance at him. He looks nervous, and you let out a shaky breath. Is this happening? You ask yourself, looking at his fair features.

“What is it?” you ask, curious, butterflies back in your stomach.

“We’ve agreed before that you would drop my contract once I was nominated” he starts hesitantly, and you nod and smile to encourage him.

“I wanted to ask you if we could make things official, because I want to date you” he says, looking into your eyes. “I want to be with you, truly, entirely. And I don’t want to hide anymore, because my feelings for you...” he trails off, looking away. You step closer to him, entranced.

“My feelings for you are far too strong, far too real and serious for a hidden, half relationship like the one we’ve had this far” he says once he’s regained his composure. “So I’m asking… for you to drop me once we get back to LA. And to go on a real date with me”. He finishes, and he seems relieved to have said what was on his chest.

You feel tears coming into your eyes as you stare at him. “Of course Ben” you reply “If it was up to me I’d sign the breach of contract right away” you say, laughing, and he joins you, seeming relieved.

“I want you” you say, putting your hands flat on his chest and stepping closer to him “And I’m sorry it took me so long to figure it out” you add, leaning in to kiss him. He kisses you back urgently, passionately, his hands sliding into your hair. A kiss that’s all tongue and teeth and want, and that makes you feel dizzy and lightheaded.

V.

You’re getting ready in your room for the premiere, applying the final touches of your makeup. You’re incredibly nervous, but you know that you won’t attend the premiere as Ben’s date, so it eases your insecurities. You’re simply accompanying him, it’s fine, you say to yourself, soothing the front of your dress.

You’ve chosen a long, red Valentino dress that one of your actresses lent you and that fitted your silhouette, and you feel like a princess. You’ve never worn anything this fancy, and you can’t wait for Ben to see you. You hear a light knock on your door and jump, before tip toeing towards the door and opening it. Ben’s grinning at you, wearing an elegant black tux. Of course he looks absolutely gorgeous and you have a to repress a moan when you see him. Your insides clench, it might be too much for you to handle.

“Are you ready?” he asks, interrupting your train or thoughts. Train of thoughts being an overstatement for the sinful images that came into your mind.

“Almost!” you try to reply in a casual tone, “I have to put on my heels” you add, turning over. Ben lets himself in and closes the door behind him.

You sit on your bed while you put on your black heels, and Ben stares you intently.

“You look absolutely breathtaking” he says, in awe.

“You don’t look too bad yourself” you reply, smiling, before getting up on your feet. The two of you reach for each other before you’ve said another word, passionately kissing. You don’t care about your lipstick, or his hands messing your hair, or the premiere. He pushes you on the bed and lands on top of you. You grab a fistful of his hair, moaning into the kiss. His hands roam over your body and you’re seconds away from asking him to take off your dress. You’re going to ask him to undress when you hear a knock on the door. The two of you stop kissing, both out of breath, flustered and red, and laugh.

“Miss Y/LN ?” a voice says behind the door. “The limo is here”.

“Thank you!” you shout at the door. “Be right down!” you add before looking back at Ben. He’s staring down at you like a hungry man and you repress a shiver.

“We wait” you sigh against his lips. “We wait until the ceremony tomorrow, okay?” you ask.

“Yeah” he replies, out of breath. “After the ceremony tomorrow” he repeats after you. He slowly lets go of you, and rolls on his back, putting a hand over his eyes. You get up on your elbows to look at him, and you laugh as you lean in to try and take off the smudges of lipstick you’ve left on his lips.

“Come on, let’s go watch your movie” you say, smiling at him, and he nods in agreement, before getting off the bed.

Everything goes smoothly. You arrive at the venue and Ben climbs the stairs with the cast and crew. He looks beautiful, you think to yourself, as you observe him from afar. He’s asked for a seat next to him for you, and you watch the movie while holding hands. He never lets go of your hand during the whole time, his thumb stroking your palm, him squeezing you lightly, and placing kisses on your hand. The movie is absolutely riveting, and you have to hold back tears, emotional to see Ben on screen. He delivers the best performance of his career, and you feel so proud of him you feel like your heart could burst.

The movie ends and Ben gets up on the stage to salute with the rest of the crew. You clap loudly, unable to hold your tears in. They reply to a few questions for journalists, and you leave the theater. You find an empty hallway nearby and lean against the wall, closing your eyes and breathing deeply. You try and focus on the present, your heart pounding in your chest. You did it. You took Ben where you wanted to take him, and you feel a mix of pure joy and pride. The agent in you is blissful, but not as much as the woman. You have to wait for one more day, and you’ll finally be with him. A noise disturbs your thoughts and you open your eyes to see Ben standing a few feet from you.

“I was looking for you” he says in a smooth voice.

“I needed to lean against something to recover from your performance” you joke, and he laughs. He joins you and stands a few inches from you, and you look up at him.

“You were absolutely amazing” you declare, in awe of him.

“Thank you” he replies, smiling, his eyes glimmering in the dark hallway. He places his hands on your cheeks and leans in for a kiss. Your body sets aflame and you kiss him back eagerly.

“I was thinking about something” you say between kisses.

“What is that?” Ben asks, smiling against your lips.

“I was thinking… fuck waiting.” you say, staring into his eyes.

He arches his eyebrow, licking his lips.

“Fuck waiting?” he asks tentatively.

“Fuck waiting.” you repeat, and you grab his hand and lead him towards the exit, decided to take him back to your room and finally dive in, head straight into your relationship. Ben laughs behind you, your heart expands in your chest, and you think to yourself that you’ve never been happier in your life.

Part 9

* * * * * * *

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[ekaterinatepes]

Author Notes: this is an AU shamelessly inspired in 50 Shades of Grey. And dedicated to my lovely @tawus. Hope you enjoy this wifey ❤️ Also because I have a Daddy/Dom Gojo brain rot I must fulfill. And if you are reading this so do you lol. Reblogs and comments are the writers and fans love language ❤️ I will endeavor to make these series as detailed as possible. I feel there are a lot of details to explore and I would love to give you guys nothing but the best ;) yes, pun intended! Go check out the rest of my work.

1. (Mr. Gojo)

High heels clicked rhythmically against the lavish white marble floors in the reception of the Gojo Enterprises. A young woman with h/c hair, e/c eyes and a divine figure walked to the front desk. She had an important meeting to attend to.

Well… technically, your best friend had the meeting but since Ali was sick you had to cover for her and show up in her place to interview the infamous magnate, business shark and most desirable bachelor in Japan, the one and only Mr. Gojo Satoru.

The beautiful blonde at the reception looked like a super model, ugh… was everyone in this place required to be gorgeous to be hired or something? Luckily, she was nice and kind enough to show you the way to the meeting room but before you crossed the door a male voice came from behind you both. “Vana. Is that Miss Michael?” He asked referring to you; when the secretary nodded he gave you a quick look and added “I’ll see Miss Michael in my office Vana…” the secretary looked shocked but didn’t comment on her boss’ request. She merely asked you to follow her.

All you could see was the retreating tall frame of a very handsome and tall man with disheveled platinum hair wearing a tailored grey suit that you were certain costed more than what you made in a month.

The receptionist left after she gestured for you to walk through a set of tall black doors that seemed made out of onyx.

Inside, the office space of Gojo Satoru awaited. One of the ‘walls’ was a window that looked over the Metropoli landscape of Tokyo. The entire space was exquisitely decorated in black, grey and golden tones. It certainly reflected the personality of its owner. Powerful and intimidating.

“Please, Miss Michael take a seat” his silky smooth voice invited you in a polite manner while he took a seat behind his desk.

“Th… thank you Sir. But, I am afraid I am not Ali Michael. She could not make it to this meeting; she is sick as so she had to remain home. I am her room mate Y/N L/N; and I am here in her place to help with the interview” you explained as efficiently as your brain allowed.

Damn it! Get a hold of yourself girl! You admonished yourself mentally. You were nervous.

Mr. Gojo leaned forward on his desk taking you in like a predator would a prey. God! You swallowed when his crystalline orbs roamed over you. You had never seen eyes like those in your entire life.

Was he fully Japanese? It couldn’t be. He had some clearly asian features but those eyes, his hair and height resembled more the European type, maybe even Nordic?

He made you feel like a gazelle being targeted by a lion. “In that case, Miss L/N, allow me to welcome you properly. Welcome to Gojo Enterprises. Please proceed whenever you are ready”.

Shifting on your seat a little fidgety you opened the folder in your hands to read the questions Ali prepared for you to formulate.

Clearing your throat you looked for a pen in your bag but sadly you were out of luck. Too shy to ask the handsome man for one you chew on your lip while debating whether it was worth asking.

As if he was reading your thoughts he stood up from his seat, grabbed a pen from the neatly aligned row on his desk and handed it to you “th… thank you” you took the pen and waited for him to return to his seat but Gojo decided to remain right in front of you, leaning against his desk.

Clearing your throat you started “well… Mr. Gojo, you are the youngest, most successful business man in Japan.. to what do you o—-“

“To what do I owe my success? Really?” He cut you midway.

It irritated you a little so you merely nodded “that’s what says here sir, I am merely making the questions Ali prepared for you” it wasn’t your fault she chose to ask that!

His lips twitched slightly as if he wanted to smirk but decided against. His posture tensed slightly, you noticed how his right hand gripped tighter the edge of the desk where he was sitting.

After little consideration he finally replied “I am a people person… business is about individuals at the core. And I am very good at figuring out what motivates people in general” he explained. You nodded and continued “do you have any particular projects or investments in the horizon?”

Satoru sighed looking into your eyes for a little too long, not hiding one bit he found the questions bland and repetitive, but you held his glare without hesitation. “Yes, we are expanding our company to Russia. We expect to have the new Saint Petersburg branch up and running by the end of October”.

You made a couple more questions about his company, his managing style and some personal ones until he abruptly stopped you “Are there any questions you would like to ask me that are not on your paper?” The reaction shocked you but looking into his magnetic blue gaze you felt encouraged to go on “well… earlier you said you are very good at understanding people’s motivations… does that mean that you like to control them?” Arching a brow you openly decided to come with a not so nice question since he had been on your nerves for the past 30 minutes.

Before he answered someone knocked at the door, the secretary Vana announcing his next meeting with the financial department “clear my schedule for the afternoon” he demanded not even sparing a look to his assistant in favor of holding your gaze.

“Y..you don’t have to do that, if you are busy I can just lea..-“ you tried to excuse yourself.

“No, please. There is no need for you to leave, I would like to answer all of your questions” you just knew he wasn’t talking about the interview.

Once you were alone again he moved to sit on the chair right next to yours “I like… control. But, believe me when I say you would like it if I was in control Miss L/N” his shameless answer made you blush and bite your lower lip harder than before. Was he… trying to flirt with you? His reaction was immediate, leaning closer to you his eyes were focused on your lower lip still trapped between your teeth. You thought he was going to kiss you but instead he pulled back once again. “Since you had your chance to make your questions I would appreciate it if you could extend me the same courtesy.

“Sure” you answered a little uncertain about what he wanted to know. Satoru proceed right away “you say your room mate was the one who scheduled this interview…. So, what do you do?”

“I am a Political Science student, and I am about to finish my Major. Which is why I live with Ali, we both study at the same College” Satoru clung to your every word as if your common life was the most interesting thing in the world

“What are your plans after you graduate?” Asked Gojo again. “Well… Ali and I planned to relocate permanently to Tokyo, maybe find a different place while I apply for an internship in the Department of Foreign Affairs “ Satoru seemed impressed with your answer. Your shyness seemed to be an outer layer that hid a confident woman at the core.

“I see… Gojo Enterprises have a few foreign policy programs since we are a multinational. If you ever feel like it, you should send your application and I would make sure personally that you find a place in my… company”.

“Thank you, that is a very kind offer but I am looking forward to serve in the diplomatic service”. The man smirked, as if he was amused with your defiance.

Could it really be considered defiance? You just met the guy and he was already offering you a position in his company. It seemed a little premature in your opinion.

“Ok… well, thank you for your time Mr. Gojo-“

“Satoru” he corrected you “you may address me as Satoru, Miss L/N”

“In that case, you may call me Y/N” his grin almost made you trip. It was so youthful and mischievous. Like a playful young boy instead of the business shark you had faced minutes ago.

“It was my pleasure Y/N..” he walked you out of his office and all the way to the elevator. It was as if he was waiting to do or say something but didn’t know how to approach it.

“See you soon Y/N” he said with a grin as if he knew for sure you would be seeing each other again.

“Goodbye, Satoru” was the last thing you said before the elevator’s doors closed.

The whole experience had been surreal. As soon as you walked out of the building you felt your heart racing, what the fuck was that? Gojo Satoru was a very… intense man.

-

“Soooooooo! How was it!?” The cute brunette sitting on the couch of your apartment asked with a stuffy nose.

“Well… it went…” you said uncertain of how to answer as you took a seat next to her.

“Pfffft! Don’t give me that shit Y/N! Tell me all the details! Give it to me straight! Was he as hot as he looks on the magazines?”

You chuckled “yes, well… he is very handsome. That’s undeniable, he is also very polite and professional!” Ali rolled her eyes “you are such a prude Y/N! “ laughing you threw a pillow at her. “He answered all your questions.”

“All of them?” Your best friend asked with a grin. You sighed “yes! All of them! And no, he is not gay! At least he said so” the brunette cackled.

“Alright! You are still sick and I am tired! I’m going to take a shower and go to bed! I have to get to work early in the morning” you announced before retiring for the evening.

-

1 week later

“Thank you Kinomoto-San! Have a wonderful day!” You said with a big smile as you held the door of the bookstore open for an old man to walk out with a book in his hands. “Thank you my dear! You too!” He answered in an affable voice.

Turning around you returned to the counter, there was supposed to be a shipment of books coming in today anytime. You had to be ready to received them and place them in the storage so you could catalogue and bar code them before they went on the shelves.

The bell at the door rang announcing a new customer “I’ll be with you in a moment!” You said without even noticing who entered the store.

Walking from behind a self with a couple of tomes in your arms you gasped and dropped them on the floor.

In front of you was none other than Gojo Satoru dressed in casual wear which consisted on a pair of black fitted jeans, a grey turtle neck sweater and pair of black round sunglasses.

“Miss L/N, I didn’t know you worked here…” the man commented casually while hurrying to help you pick up the books you dropped. With a blush you accepted his help “uh… yeah this is a part time job to help pay for rent and whatnot.”

After setting the books on a shelf you asked “how can I help you today?” Your question made Satoru smirk “I have a list of books I would like to purchase. I am doing some research” you nodded “of course, do you know either the title or the author?” Out of his pocket he picked a piece of paper and handed it to you.

For the briefest moment you thought it was a joke but his expression didn’t betray his intentions.

“I.. uh… y… yeah, I believe we have some of them”. Was he… for real?… the titles were along the lines of: ‘Deconstructing Kama-Sutra’, ‘The Road to Nirvana: finding pleasure activating your chakras’, and the most scandalous one ‘Diaries of a Dominant, my story as the Master’.

What in the fuck was this guy into? You didn’t question his reading preferences and merely limited yourself to search for the books in your database. Turns out you had two out of three.

“We have the first two titles but I am afraid we don’t have the third one” Satoru smiled “that is alright, I believe I can occupy myself with the first two for now” with a blush covering your cheeks you went to get his books and handed those to him.

When you gave them to Satoru he took advantage of his height to crowd your space with his imposing 6’4 of pure male perfection “thank you… have you ever read any of these?” Asked the white haired man in a teasing tone.

“No!” You quipped quickly “I am afraid my tastes in literature are dramatically different from yours” focusing your eyes on cashing him out you heard his chuckle once again.

“And what do you read?” He asked.

Oh he was in it for a surprise.

Deciding to mess with him you picked a book that you had to catalogue, it read ‘True Crime: Female Serial Killers’. Holding it up for him to see you felt victorious at his reaction. His eyes almost bulged out of his handsome face “well… remind me not to piss you off… least they find me in pieces in a dumpster” you laughed making him smirk in exchange.

“Oh don’t worry… if I was to kill someone you wouldn’t be the kind of prey I would choose” you grinned evilly. If that didn’t scare him off you would give the man a damn trophy.

“And what kind of prey would you choose?” He asked now fully interested in your answer. His glasses slid down the bridge of his nose letting you make eye contact with those impossibly blue eyes.

The temptation was too great “a big one… one that believes himself to be the hunter when in truth… he is the prey” Satoru was speechless.

But instead of backing off he proposed “come have a coffee with me” was he freaking crazy? You made yourself sound purely psychotic just to scare him off and instead he wanted to have a coffee date with you?

“Excuse me?” You questioned baffled making Satoru chuckle “come have a coffee with me, when you are done with work. I will pick you. Y/N, I would like to get to know you better”.

You accepted his offer and he confirmed he would pick you up a 7pm when you shift was over.

-

As promised Satoru was there at 7pm sharp to pick you up in a black Audi Q7, he got out of the driver’s side and went to hold the door open for you “thank you” you got in the car “so… where are we going?” You didn’t think Gojo Satoru was a man to go into a Starbucks for coffee but… weirdest things have happened “it’s a surprise” the handsome driver replied “I promise you will like it” he assured you.

The drive was short. Satoru parked in front of a tall building, it looked so fancy and refined. As you walked through the doors the host received Satoru with a smile “Good Evening Monsieur Gojo and welcome” he turned to you and bowed to you as well “Good evening Mademoiselle, please follow me. Your spot is ready” the garçon took you to a table by the window overlooking Mount Fuji.

“This can hardly be considered going for coffee” you accused feeling slightly intimidated. You were not precisely dressed for a five star restaurant diner. But then again neither was Satoru “no, I suppose it doesn’t but it’s late and you have to eat too” was his smart ass comment.

When the waitress came to take your order Satoru was quick to order for the both of you. What…. In the hell? You were surprised at how high handed he was! But decided not to be rude and just roll with it for now.

“So… what do you want to know about me” you preferred to start the conversation after you both were served a glass of red wine.

“Do you have a boyfriend?” Ever so straight to the point Gojo asked looking at you intently making you chuckle “if I had one do you think I would be here with you?” You sassed him making Satoru tense, but it was not anger that coursed through his veins but the pure unadulterated desire to bend you over that table and give you a lesson.

“Answer the question” he requested rather tense. You sighed and shook your head “no, I don’t. Don’t have time for none of that” you had a scholarship to keep, a job to maintain and a career to start; besides… relationships were something too messy for you to want to deal with at the moment.

“I see…” added the white haired man once again watching you intently, it was crazy how his eyes could have such a strong effect on you. You bit your lower lip trying to relieve the tension.

Satoru’s body was like a spring when he shoot forward to hold your chin tenderly between his thumb and his index “you know… I am dying to bite that lip too” he was so close you could feel his breathe brushing your lips. But before either of you made another movement the waitress showed up with your food.

You both separated but your eyes remained glued to one another.

After a diner loaded with sexual tension Satoru requested “come with me… I have something I want you to see…” you nodded and agreed.

Gojo was a man who loved his cars and the speed because he drove that Audi as if he had stolen it. It was thrilling, the rush of adrenaline and the lingering desire only served to charge the atmosphere with anticipation.

Satoru’s mansion in the outskirts of Tokyo was undoubtedly the most decadent, beautiful and remarkable structure you have ever been to.

“There are a few things I want you to know before we go any further” explained the platinum haired Adonis standing before you. You nodded compliantly but he stopped, looking at you as if there was an internal battle he was fighting “fuck the paperwork” he mumbled before he crushed his lips against yours. His hand grabbing a fistful of your hair to then pick you up so he could kiss you easily without grouching. Your tongues met and his flavor overwhelmed your brain. He tasted like freedom, passion and danger. All in one. By the time you both separated you finally realized he had pushed you against a wall and now you were trapped between his strong body and a hard place; both of you breathing heavily trying to gain some semblance of composure.

Tags: @sleepyamaya @cloudsinthecosmos

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[toomanystoriessolittletime]

late night calls

Summary: It all started with a phone call to the DEA office to tell Javier about the surgery of his father. You had insisted to take care of him after Chucho told you about the surgery. That you would fall in love with his son you had never met before? Just as surprising to you as it was to Javier.

Pairing: Javier Peña x F!Plus size reader

Wordcount: 4.1k+

Warnings: fluff, phone sex, mentions of bomb attacks, sexism, self doubt, yearning?

A/N: I know that probably more time passed between the bombing and Javier being send back to the states but I chose to ignore it. For the plot. Hope you enjoy it :)

Masterlist

*taglist in reblog

You still weren’t used to the heat. Yes, you did move to Texas because you wanted a fresh start. But the fucking heat would take some time to get used to. Nothing was holding you back in Maine. You had spent the last years taking care of your sick mother. She had died just before Christmas and with her all the family you had left. 

So coming with the new year you took a leap of faith, packed your things, and moved to a little town close to the Mexican border. You got a job at the local police station as a secretary that made a decent sum of money each month. Life was good. At least you told yourself so. 

You had made a couple of friends. Mostly the older generation of the town. You weren’t big on going out, nor had the town a big nightlife in the first place. That’s why you insisted on taking care of Chucho after he told you one day at the diner that he had to get a hip replacement. His wife had died a long time ago and his son wasn’t able to leave work.

“Don’t you have some better stuff to do cariño?” He had asked.

“What better way to start your day than on your Farm, Senior Peña.” You had winked at him.

Chucho might have been a stubborn old man, but once he got out of surgery and was in pain he was thankful that he accepted your help. That was also the first time you heard him talk about his son. Javier.

“Be a dear and call him to tell him I’m okay?” He had mumbled before he dozed off again. You had chuckled, kissed his cheek before you left him for the day to went over to his farm. Once you had taken care of everything for the day you sat down on his kitchen island and grabbed the phone, dialing the first number he had written down.

You had suggested moving into his place in his recovery time. It was a beautiful place. Mexico was just on the other side of the river down the property. But the best part about this place was the air conditioning. Okay… You really loved this place and it definitely was an upgrade to the small apartment you were renting in the city. 

Waiting for his son to pick up the phone you wondered what kind of job he would have that he wasn’t able to take care of his father. You didn’t judge him, okay maybe a little, you were more curious. You had seen some pictures of him spread through the house. But you had never asked about him.

“DEA Office, how may I help you?” A woman answered your call.

“Uhm… Is Javier Peña available? It’s about his father,” you tried.

“Oh of course. Agent Peña just got in. Please hold.”

Agent Peña? DEA? You had so many questions but they died on your tongue when the call connected again.

“This is Peña.” A deep voice said. He reminded you of his father.

“Hello Mr. Peña. I’m only calling to let you know that your father’s surgery went fine. He wanted me to forward this to you.”

“Javier, please. Not even my father likes to be called Mr. Peña.” 

“Oh I noticed that,” you chuckled.

“He’s fine yeah?” You heard something shuffle on the other end of the line. 

“Yeah. Already made some jokes and told me to make sure I feed the horses in the right order.”

“You’re taking care of the horses?”

“Yeah. I’m temporarily moving in to help your father.”

“That’s very nice of you. He never told me about you.”

“There’s not much to tell.” You got up and took out a bottle of water from the fridge. “I’m only here for the air conditioning.” You joked. He laughed.

“Fuck I miss air conditioning. Hold on.” You sat down again, hearing only damp voices.

“Fuck. I need to go. Please call me if something comes up. Dad has my home number too, right?” He was speaking quickly and you wondered what was happening. 

“Yes, he wrote it down for me. Everything okay?”

“Yeah hopefully. Just some work stuff. Keep in touch, yeah?”

“Will do Javier.”

Chucho got home a week later and he was the worst at listening to doctors’ orders. You still had to go into the station to work, but you spend your whole time worrying about him. It was funny to you how he seemingly had become a father figure to you in less than a couple of weeks. 

Of course you found him standing at the kitchen counter when you got to the ranch, the phone tugged between his shoulder and his ear, making himself a sandwich.

“Shouldn’t you be resting?” You asked, crossing your arms in front of your chest.

“I was. Then Javi called and I got hungry.” 

“Stubborn old man,” you grumbled and he rolled his eyes.

“Come on, I brought dinner.”

“Fine. Here. Javi wants to say Hello,” he handed you the phone before he slowly trotted towards the couch. Shaking your head you put the phone to your ear.

“You are really strict with him,” Javier said.

“Someone has to. Are all you Peña men this stubborn?” 

He chuckled. “You have no idea. How is he doing?”

“Overall good. Not complaining as much as in the beginning but then again I am bribing him with my delicious cooking.”

Javier and you had spoken to each other at least two times per week since the first time you called to tell him about his father’s surgery. You learned that he was a DEA agent on the hunt for Pablo Escobar. You learned that he was feeling guilty about not being there for his father and to take care of the ranch. You learned lots of things about Javier Peña. 

“Ah... Delicious cooking. Maybe one day you get to cook for me?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You teased, hearing him take a sip of his drink. Whiskey probably. 

“Just that my father is praising your cooking so much I wonder if it really is that good.”

“Oh, it is, Peña.” You found yourself smiling. You heard him sigh.

“Everything’s okay over there?” You asked.

“Yeah,” he said too quickly. Definitely a lie. You nodded.

“You wanna stay on the phone while I prepare dinner?” you asked.

“Yeah,” he whispered.

The better Chucho got, the longer the phone calls between Javier and you seem to get. It was mostly at night after he got home from whatever he had been doing at work that day intending to check in on his father. But after a few sentences, he asked about your day. About how you felt. What your plans for the coming weekend were. 

“You sound exhausted Hermosa,” he sighed. It had been a long day at work and all you wanted was to grab a pint of ice cream and drown your sorrows.

“Just the usual sexist bullshit at the PD,” you groaned.

“Want me to kill them?” Javier joked.

“You take care of your nemesis, I take care of mine. But I appreciate the help.” You sat down on your bed, knowing that this was usually the room he occupied when he was here to visit his father. 

“Noted. But if it’s any help, I had a shit day too. They seem to get more frequent the longer I stay in this shithole.”

“Maybe you have to focus on the good things of being in this country. There have to be some. The food probably. I always enjoy new food. Maybe go to a museum? I don’t want to intrude but you don’t seem like you do anything besides work and well…”

It was pure accident that you had heard the voice of a woman one night when you had called him for a change. You knew that he looked good, you had seen the pictures, so it shouldn’t be a surprise to you, that he did have a girlfriend. He clarified that he didn’t, that this was just a woman he got intel from. You didn’t ask any more questions, it wasn’t your right. That it hurt to think of him and another woman was something you chose to ignore.

“I never thanked you,” Javier said. You let yourself fall back into bed, staring at the stars outside the window.

“What for?” you asked quietly.

“Thanking care of Dad and the ranch. Listening to my drunken ramblings. You’re a good friend,” he said. You smiled, a warm feeling spreading in your chest.

“You’re a good friend too, Javi.”

Chucho didn’t need anyone to take care of him. Not when he was back to his old health after a couple of months. But he had asked you to move in with him anyway. And you loved to live with the old man. Enjoying not being on your own all the time. And you loved helping him out at the ranch. The PD was still getting on your nerves and you were seriously considering just quitting.

“I hate it. I fucking hate it. I get one dumb line after another, just because I’m a woman. That I helped to get together the evidence to put that fucker away that killed all those women last year is not even of interest. FUCK!” you complained to Chucho. He knew about all of this already. Yet he jumped from his seat when he saw that you did cut yourself while making dinner.

“Careful.” He took your hand in his, leading you over to the sink to look at your wound. It didn’t hurt that much. 

“What about if I take care of dinner today, and you go and take a bath? Javier is probably gonna call in a bit…” Chucho winked, putting a bandaid on your finger.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you frowned.

“Just that I see the way you smile every time my son calls.”

“Two whole days off? What are you gonna do with yourself?” You joked. You were laying in the bathtub, the phone in your hand as you talked to Javier.

“Don’t know. I feel like I need a home-cooked meal so I’m gonna nag Connie to cook one.”

You chuckled, crossing your legs.

“Is that water I hear?” he asked and you blushed. Why? You didn’t know. You had undressed numerous times while on the phone with him, but being completely naked and him knowing about it…

“I’m in the bathtub. Chucho’s orders. He’s making dinner before I kill myself doing it.”

You were met with silence.

“You okay, Javi?” You sucked your bottom lip in. “I did only cut my finger,” you joked.

“Just trying to get the picture of you naked in the bathtub out of my head.”

“You don’t even know what I look like.”

“Doesn’t matter. All I need is to hear your voice and I’m hard…”

“Javi…” you whispered, feeling hot all of the sudden.

“Will you tell me?” he asked.

“Tell you what?”

“If you think about me? Because you are on my mind all the time. I keep picturing how you look. If you have long hair or short hair. What color your eyes have. If your smile is only half as beautiful as your laugh. Fuck… I just wanna see you. I wanna feel you. I wanna taste you Hermosa.” 

Unintentionally your unoccupied hand had made its way down your body, your breath coming in short pants.

“Keep talking Javier…” you whispered, your hand slipping in between your legs.

“I want to touch you. Fuck I bet your skin is so soft. I’d worship you. I stay up at night wondering if I could fit your boobs in my hands. What sound you would make when I close my mouth around your nipple…”

“Shit Javi…” You moaned.

“I wonder how you taste. Are you wet for me baby?” he asked and you heard a zipper being undone on his end of the line.

“So wet. You always make me wet. I touch myself when we get off the phone, wondering how it would feel to have you here…” you whimpered.

“I would have fucked you on every flat surface in the house if I was there. The thought of you sleeping in my bed is making me lose my mind.”

You circled your clit with your fingers, a low moan coming from your lips.

“I wonder how you feel wrapped around my cock. I wonder how you sound when I make you cum. I want to hear it so badly…” You were sure he was fucking his hand and you whimpered at the thought.

“I wish it was my hand wrapped around your big cock right now. God, I wish it was your hand between my legs and not mine…” You bit your lips, keeping yourself quiet.

“Put two fingers into that cunt and make yourself cum. I wanna hear you…” he groaned on the phone. 

“Fuck Javi…” you cried quietly, two fingers inside your cunt. “I wish it was your cock and not my fingers.”

“Me too… Me too babe.” he moaned. “Circle that clit for me. Cum for me.”

Circling your clit you almost let the phone fall into the tub when you came with a low moan. You heard him cry out your name on the other end of the line before all that was heard was both of your heavy breathing. 

“Javi…?” you asked after a while, still high from one of the best orgasms you ever had. You heard the familiar sound of him lighting a cigarette.

“I meant every single word Hermosa. I want you.” You never thought you would hear these words from him or any man for that matter. You weren’t a typical beauty. You weren’t skinny, you loved food and your curves showed it. On most days you were happy with the way you looked. But you also knew how Javier looked. He was an attractive man and you knew he did indeed have a new woman every other night if he felt like it. He might be interested now, but once he would meet you, there was no way he would make true to all the things he said.

“You’re quiet.” he noticed.

“Yeah. Just coming down from the best orgasm I’ve had in a while,” you joked and he sighed.

“I might not see you, but I know that you’re lying.”

“Okay, it was the best orgasm I ever had.”

“Hermosa…”

“I don’t want to talk about it. Just let me enjoy the illusion of a handsome DEA Agent being interested in little ol’ me.”

“I’ll make sure you believe that it isn’t an illusion until we do see each other.”

Months went by and by now you were pretty sure you were in love with Javier Peña. The phone bill was taking dimensions you were almost guilty about, but Chucho only smiled not taking your money, telling you to make his boy happy. Safe to say he approved.

You had told him about your insecurities and Javier made sure to tell you every time you talked to each other that it didn’t matter how you looked. He told you that you could be green and he’d still go down on you the first time he would meet you.

And you wanted to believe him, you really did. You had told him how you looked after he tried to talk you into sending pictures of yourself “with or without clothes, I don’t care. Though you can guess what I prefer.” he had teased. Javier never made a secret about how much he liked you. Enjoyed talking to you. He told you he had stopped sleeping around for god’s sake. 

He was supposed to visit his father in a couple of weeks and the more time passed, the more nervous you became. You didn’t doubt that he meant every single word he said to you. It was years of being on the receiving end of jokes and being the ugly friend that automatically let you feel like you weren’t good enough.

The worst part was that you knew, deep down, that you were beautiful. You loved how you looked. But there still was this voice inside your head, telling you that you would never be good enough for anyone. That there was no way someone would ever fall in love with you.

It was a typical morning at work. You had your coffee and all the files you had to update. Javier had talked to you until you fell asleep, telling you that he felt like he was failing in taking Escobar down. He didn’t tell you much, not wanting you to worry or to risk someone listening, but you could tell that he was exhausted. “I fucked up, Hermosa. I really fucked up and I have no idea how to fix this,” were the words that he had whispered to you in the middle of the night. 

You didn’t ask what he meant, just telling him that you’d be there for him, no matter what.

Typing as usual you stopped as the song on the radio was, interrupted by a news report of a bombing in Bogota, Colombia. You knew that there were bombings all the time over there, and Javier always assured you that he was perfectly fine. But with how he was last night, you had a bad feeling.

“Fuck. When are they going to stop that shit over there? If I was there I’d caught Escobar years ago,” one of the officers said. You closed your eyes, breathing in deeply.

“Isn’t Chucho’s son over there pretty face?” The officer stopped in front of your desk and you opened your eyes.

“Yeah he is,” you said.

“Maybe if he would know how to do his job, shit like that wouldn’t go down like that,” he grinned and you wanted to stop, but your hand was faster. Slapping his cheek you got off your seat.

“And maybe if you would know how to use your dick your wife wouldn’t fuck your colleague over there, but you’ll never know, right?” You grinned, picking your purse and walking out.

“I’m taking today off.” You yelled over your shoulder as you walked to your car.

Javier didn’t pick up the phone. Which wasn’t what concerned you on the first day. He would have to deal with the shit that had happened over there. But when three days passed and you could see Chucho getting nervous as well you became restless. The ranch had never been so spotless. The horses had been fed in record time, and you took long rides along the river. If something had happened to him someone would have called, right? You couldn’t even reach his partner Murphy who you had talked to occasionally when Javier wasn’t at his desk. 

When a week passed and you hadn’t heard anything you were close to making your way to the airport to just fly down there. What if he died? What if he was gone and you hadn’t told him that you loved him? That you fell in love with a man you had never met before? Getting off the horse you sat down at the tree closest to the river. It was quiet here. This was the outer area of Chucho’s ranch, your favorite spot. You had joked about building a house here once when you were out with the old man and he had agreed that it would be the perfect spot. Sighing you drank from the bottle of water you brought.

Where the fuck are you Javier?

Another week went by without any sign of life from him. You had called the DEA office again but no one seemed to be able to give you an answer. You were growing restless. Working seemed to be the only thing that could get you off the spiraling thoughts of what if? You really had it bad for the man. Shaking your head to yourself you sighed as you parked your car on the usual spot in front of the ranch. Chucho’s truck was gone, he had a doctor's appointment to check on his hip and would meet his lady friend for dinner afterward. You had met her, Estella, once. She was a beautiful woman and Chucho seemed very happy with her. With a sad smile you killed the engine, getting out of the car. On your way to the house you groaned, turning around because you forgot your take out. You weren’t in the mood to cook and the pizza from that place that Javier had told you about was the best you had ever had. While you opened the passenger door of your car you heard the front door of the house open.

Shit. Burglars? You didn’t have anything on you, you could use as a gun. You knew you could probably make it to the horse stable to find something, but not in these fucking heels. Why did you wear these fucking heels? Maybe you could make them choke on the pizza? But then again you were looking forward to eating it. 

“Just take what you want, I won’t look.” You called over your shoulder, hoping to just be spared for the day. Closing your eyes you sighed when you were met with no reaction. You heard footsteps on the porch that stopped.

“Look, I’m really not in the mood for this bullshit today. So either take whatever the fuck you want or kill me….” you turned around and all the words died on your lips.

Standing there, leaning against the porch was no other than Javier fucking Peña. Alive. And looking even better than on the various pictures hanging in the house. He was bare feet, wearing tight jeans and a green shirt that was half undone. Opening your mouth to talk, all that came out was a gasp. He looked at you, his eyes mirroring the million emotions inside of you. Looking down at yourself you felt shy all of the sudden. This isn’t how you imagined meeting him for the first time. You wanted to be pretty. To wear some spanx. To have some make-up on. Closing your eyes you breathed in deep. You were happy to see him, you really were. But the ride of emotions you had gone through in the last couple of days took hold of you. Walking quickly towards him, you pushed against his chest, the air leaving his lungs in a puff.

“You fucking idiot. I thought you died.” You pushed him again.

“Do you have any idea how awful I felt since I heard the news of the bombing? You…” You pushed against his chest again, but this time he was faster, grabbing your wrists as he looked down at you. You felt the tears in your eyes as you finally looked up at him. Almost a year of phone calls and now he was standing here in front of you. Alive and warm. And smelling so fucking good.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, holding both of your wrists against his chest as he looked at you. 

“I should have called but I told you I fucked up. Badly. And I had to fix it and…” he shook his head. “It doesn’t matter now. I’m here and fuck… you’re even more beautiful than I pictured you,” he smiled a little.

“Flattery will get you nowhere.” You huffed, still annoyed.

“No?” he asked teasingly, smirking at you as he leaned down. You shook your head, biting your lip. God, you wanted to kiss him. 

“Can I at least try?” he asked, his lips brushing over your temple. You swallowed, shivering when you felt his cheek against yours. Fuck. Why did he smell so good?

“You may try, but I’m really, really mad at you Javier.”

You closed your eyes when he released your wrists and put one of his hands on your back to push you closer against him. He kissed your cheek before he straightened to his full height and looked down at you, his other hand coming to rest on your cheek.

“You’re really sexy when you’re angry,” he teased before he leaned down to kiss you. You melted against him, your hands running up his chest, holding on to the back of his neck as one hand ran through his hair, to pull him down. Kissing him didn’t come close to anything you could have imagined, his tongue parting your lips and you couldn’t help the moan against his lips. 

“Still angry?” he whispered out of breath against your lips.

“Slightly less angry,” you whispered back before you found yourself in his arms as he carried you into the house.

[spiltscribbles]

Miss you and your marvelous writing!!!! Just a prompt if you’re up to it 😊 exes wolfstar staying friends but sirius gets into a new relationship and he brings his new boo to somewhere he took remus and remus gets sad 😭 but they get back together eventually

Notes: OMFG BABEY! this is so SO beyond precious of you! i adore you to bits! thank you for the sweetness and for this scrumptious angst🥺🥺 i really hope you like it😭😘😘💜

.-

SEND ME A PROMPT  |  A Reblog means SO SO much! I ADORE YOU💜💜

.-

“He can just be so… So” James pauses right then, takes off his cap with the hand that’s still clutching his baseball bat, and ruffles his hair with the other.

“Un-opinionated,” Remus offers half heartedly as they turn the block to the small coffee shop nearest school, both of them freshly showered after the required morning workouts for Tuesday and Thursdays. It’s the first semester in which Remus has actually joined in on the seven minute track, considering the fact that even despite their crazy contradictory schedules with all the sports and extra curriculars they each had, Sirius always made it a point to buy their ice coffees and drop it off to Remus, sometimes leaving them a quarter of an hour late for first period, or as just a quick drop and dash if one of them had an exam. 

It was sweet, considerate. It was Sirius showing how much he cared because he’s never been one for words, even if he would frequently print off the little texts Remus would send him about how Sirius made him feel, and hang it up on the wall besides his bed, along with photos of them and Remus by himself and a few of their other friends too.

But yeah… None of that is really a thing anymore, not the coffees or the texts or the promises of being one another’s always. Not after calling it quits in early January because they knew by August they’d be working with thousands of miles between them and a three hour difference on top of that. It just wouldn’t have been feasible in the long run, and sure— Remus was the one to broach the topic and he knows that Sirius was hesitant about the logical side of it, but sometimes Remus wishes Sirius had fought harder, had argued louder, had wanted Remus more. But that’s a ridiculous expectation, and he had only admitted as much to Lily. And at the end of the day, it was the right choice, because it’s only early May now, and Remus can’t imagine how sick he’ll feel once catching his flight to Berkeley, and they’re steadfastly back in the best friends category of things. He can’t fathom how it would’ve been if they spent all these months and the ones after being together in all those intimate ways, knowing that they’ll be so far apart soon enough.

It was the right decision for the both of them and their friendship.

“Yeah, sure. Let’s go with that,” James says, bringing Remus out of his gloomy contemplations while opening the glass door to Three Broomsticks, sporting a thin smile that he always has on when he’s trying to be kind even when he’s irritated as all get out. 

Remus snorts at him, elbow checking his side as he walks past. “Well he’s sharing that dorm with you and Sirius in New Haven, so I guess you’ve got that to look forwards to.”

James’s face pulls into a grimace and their typical barista nods their way, already receiving their orders through the app and sparing them having to wait in the queue. “Maybe Pete’ll grow his own personality in university, yeah?”

“Sure Prongsie,” Remus says, noncommittal as he checks his phone and lies against the windowpane, already exhausted by the morning. “And if he doesn’t, I’m sure Sirius is about to blow his lid any day now.”

“It’s going to be funny as fuck, and you won’t even be there to see the debris,” James counters, sounding pleasant enough even though Remus knows that he’s nearly as pissed off as Sirius is about the decision for him to go back to his home state for undergrad. 

“You’ll send pictures though.”

“Of course Moony my old friend,” James jokes, tossing him a wink as they straighten once spotting their coffees being rung up. But as Remus takes a step forwards, he notices that a familiarly tan pair of hands are reaching for them, and when Remus looks up he feels like an idiot for not noticing him sooner. Because there Sirius is, dashing as ever in their school’s maroon blazer and tan pants, and his hair is windblown and shining as it falls midway of the nape of his neck. But Remus doesn’t really have the chance to appreciate just how damn good looking his ex-boyfriend is, rather, he’s more distracted by how Sirius doesn’t even notice him or James as he pivots around and hands over the second cup to a beaming Gideon Prewett. Their heads incline while they exchange a few words that are absolutely impossible to pick up in the crowded cafe before they bump their shoulders together and walk out the opposite door.

And it feels like nothing else watching that exchange— like their was a hammer and pick chipping away at his stupid, weeping heart.

“I think they’re just doing a project together,” James says lowly in Remus’s ear, clapping him on the back in reassurance, and Remus loves him, but he’s not in the mood for false platitudes, feels like there is a ugly, burning fire festering deep in his stomach and making Remus want to hurl all over the wooden floors.

“Yeah, I’m sure,” he replies instead, mild as he discretely picks up his phone again and opens up to the last conversation he had this morning.

R: need intel 

L: Say more sexy things to me, lover 

R: sirius and Gideon

R: what’s going on there

L: I’ll take a look, dw

Buoyed by Lily’s scary levels of detective skills, Remus returns his phone to his satchel and signals James to follow him to pick up their actual drinks. “C’mon, Flitwick hates it when we’re late.”

.-

“Do you want the good news first, or the bad.” Lily asks Remus later that morning during their shared free period, dropping her bag on the tabletop that they typically commandeer towards the back of Hogwarts’s library, nearest the windows and tucked away by the shelves.

“Is there actually any good news? Or are you just saying that to make me feel better.” Remus asks, single brow cocked as he shuts his history book and tosses it to the side.

“Well your hair looks especially nice today,” she offers with a small smile, sitting besides him and ruffling his curls.

“Thanks, I suppose. But I’d rather just get to it. And don’t sigh at me like that! All long suffering and all.”

Rolling her eyes, Lily gathers her hair into a high pony before turning to Remus fully. “You’re my best friend, I love you more than just about anyone. You know that, right?” Lily asks him, stiff stance relaxing when he nods in turn. “Then understand that I’m saying this from a place of love, but you don’t get to be mad at him, okay. You’re the one who called it off Re, you’re the one who wanted you guys to go back to being friends to avoid that messiness in August. And you know I respect the decision, but also it wasn’t the only one to be had. I mean look at James and I—“

“You’re going to Columbia Lils,” Remus bristles, hates how defensive he’s getting all of a sudden. “That train ride is like two hours and some change at the very most. It’s not the same.”

“You guys could’ve made it work,” she insists, green eyes blazing in the dim light. “He’s crazy about you, and you’re in love with him— Like ass backwards in love. You can’t just cut that off like it’s nothing, damn it, Remus.”

He can feel his own ears reddening and Remus hates it, hates how today had started off so innocuous and now it’s an absolute shit show. Remus hates that Lily is always correct about everything, and hates how Sirius probably is regretting telling Remus he still fully intends to ask him out to prom, and hates how much he loves him— how whenever he looks at Sirius it’s just a deluge of wanting and adoring and regretting and needing to feel his lips against Sirius’s own again like a drug, how he’ll never forget how he tasted like coffee beans and cigarette smoke and the strawberries he ate every morning besides his breakfast. Remus hates it all and he can’t figure out how not to feel like suddenly everything is slipping out of his hands like sand drifting through his fingers.

“He’s probably not that crazy over me anymore considering he’s getting Gideon Prewett coffees now, so maybe it’s the right decision after all.” Is what Remus decides to tell Lily instead of that whirlwind of clashing feelings.

“Oh Christ,” Lily huffs, dropping her head back like she’s asking for strength from the heavens above. “Look, Dorcas tells me that they’ve only been out twice. And Marlene says that it’s nothing intense. Just a movie and then he went to go watch his nephew’s little league game.”

“Oh,” Remus intones, because, no. No he will not start crying like this is some fucking Nicholas Sparks novel, and he’s the wayward lead making all the worst decisions. He’s not going to cry damn it!

He is not a bird, and this is suppose to be happening, and none of this has any real consequence at the end of the day. He and Sirius broke up, and Sirius can go out with whoever he pleases— even if it’s good looking, ginger athletes.

Remus is fine.

“Remus,” Lily gently consoles, lacing her fingers into his own that’s resting on his lap, and squeezing for good measure. “Benjy told Mary, who told me during Calc that Gideon doesn’t expect anything. Sirius told him he’s not looking for anything long term.”

“That’s dumb,” Remus retorts, trying to hold everything in so that Lily doesn’t give him that concerned, doe eyed face of hers, like when he’s spent a week living off of protein bars and double shot espressos preparing for finals. “Gideon’s great, and there on the soccer team together, they would be perfect.”

“Remus, stop.”

“And he’s going to Dartmouth, so he’ll be super close for like weekend excursions and all of that.”

“Remus!”

“The more I think about it, Lils, the more it makes sense. They just fit.”

“Sure, those are all nice attributes,” Lily says, peering up at him disappointedly. “But he’s not you.”

Like a legion of angels singing in the distance, the bell begins to shrill for next period and Remus is spared from giving that statement any mind.

.-

He spends the rest of the week acting as if he hadn’t even seen Sirius that morning whenever around him, and internally analyzing each and every exchange between them, and comparing to them to when he sees Sirius chatting with Gideon. And it’s not fun to say the least. It’s like a flashback to when he was trying to hide his crush on Sirius back in Freshman and most of sophomore year, but somehow worse. It’s worse because Remus had him, had Sirius in all the ways someone could ever want an other. He had Sirius’s languid morning kisses, and Sirius’s bark like laughter. Remus had Sirius being nervous the first time Lyall came for his typical Christmas visit, and Sirius had to try and impress him along with Remus’s mom as more than just the friend he hung around with at school. Remus had Sirius’s gruff voice when they were in bed and getting tangled into one another, and Sirius’s dopey looks in the middle of class when he’d be gazing over at Remus instead of the board. And if Remus is being honest, he knows he still has all those things, but it’s suddenly and searingly clear that some time— sooner rather than later— they’ll all leave, abruptly disappearing and shattering Remus’s world in their wake. Because eventually all of those different facets of Sirius’s won’t be Remus’s anymore— they’ll be Gideon’s or some other boy he meets in New Haven. And Remus can’t even be upset at it, he doesn’t have a claim to any of Sirius anymore, doesn’t get to call any part of him his.

And it’s probably the worst Remus has felt since that first night after their break up, because he’s eating every moment he has with Sirius like he’s famished and Sirius is the last meal he’ll ever know. He wants to memorize every part of him before he can’t have any of it. He wants to unravel every layer of Sirius, and kiss it for the final time, and it’s like saying goodbye a thousand times over, strangling his heart and splintering something desperate deep inside of him.

Like now.

It’s edging on midnight, and they drove up to the lake front near their suburb, with Sirius lying with his head on Remus’s lap and his long, muscled body lying against the tattered blanket beneath them. And his eyes are fluttered shut while the speaker they brought croons out the indie playlist they like most from Spotify.

And Remus can’t help but feel like this is one of their last nights like this, alone and quiet and together without any other specter of some other partner. So he watches him, watches the moonlight pacing over his nose and the high bones of his cheeks and across Sirius’s eyelids too. Remus watches his ink  like lashes kissing his skin, and wants to touch the divot of his cupids bow like so many times before while his other hand cards through Sirius’s hair. 

And Remus lets himself want Sirius and wonders if he’ll ever stop wanting, craving, loving him.

“I can hear you thinking Moons,” Sirius says, fluttering his eyes open and crunching up before Remus can even respond. “What’s going on?”

“Huh? What do you mean? I’m fine.” Remus all but sputters, folding his knees against his chest and wrapping his arms around them, feeling somehow vulnerable in blistering ways. “Nothing is going on.”

“Pff,” Sirius gives him a pointed look, settles down so that they’re side by side and tries to get Remus to look at him head on. “You’ve been strange all week, Moony.” 

“That’s not—“

“And then tonight, you didn’t even tease your ma when she was telling us about that patient who puked all over her shoes.”

“Just tired is all.”

“But had enough energy to smoke half the joint I brought.” Sirius says with a snort, looking frustrated again when Remus didn’t even flinch a smile at the counter. “Remus, talk to me.”

“It’s fine Sirius,” Remus sighs, suddenly remembers how exhausting all their arguments were in the past. How Sirius tries getting him to speak everything in his mind, as if Remus could even put them into words. 

“Okay, then tell me why you rejected my offer to go to that Frank Ocean concert. You’re obsessed with him.”

“’S in July,” Remus reminds him lightly, focusses on the way they can see the North star glimmering against the horizon instead.

“And, so?” Sirius asks, sounding more than a bit scathing. “You’re not leaving for another month after that, you trying to cut me off completely by the summer or something?”

“Don’t be an idiot.”

“Don’t be condescending.”

“Sirius, just leave well enough alone. Holy shit.”

“I can leave it alone if you can actually tell me what the fuck is going on with you,” Sirius snaps, standing up now, probably because he always likes using his height advantage on most people whenever he gets all pissy.

“You can be such a prick sometimes, you know that?” Remus snarls at him, following suit and dipping his head back just slightly so that they’re eye to eye. “Not everything is on your schedule, you know that.”

“My schedule!” Sirius’s brows jump to his hairline, and he breaks into that manic laughter that springs up only when he’s so angry he can’t put his thoughts together. “I’m trying to do as much shit with you as possible before you leave, because for some stupid fucking reason I’m going to miss you when your across the fucking country! But yeah, whatever. If you’re actually just sick of me and my presence or what the fuck else, you can just—“

“I would’ve assumed you wanted to go with Gideon,” Remus blurts out, simply unable to hold it back any more, unable to pretend like he’s not suffering a thousand fresh paper cuts every time he even glances Sirius’s way these days. He can’t do this, can’t pretend to just be friends when they were— when they are— so much more than that. “To the concert I mean. I just assumed—“

“No,” Sirius says, seething as he storms up to Remus— close enough that the tips of their noses brush up against each other. 

“No? Excuse me?”

“No Remus you don’t get to do this!” Sirius repeats, voice going frayed at the edges as their glances level. “You don’t get to pretend as if I want anyone more than I want— than I’ve always wanted you. And you don’t get to float around for the rest of your life pretending as if this’ll ever change for me. As if you can’t hit me up in fifteen years when I’m married with kids, and ask to get back together, and think  that I wouldn’t drop it all for you.”

Remus’s heart begins to thud, loud and painful against his ribcage, and his lungs feel like they might collapse the instant Remus let’s the tears swimming in his eyes sprinkle out. “Sirius, I ca—“

“I’ve been in love with you since before we were suppose to mean what that meant, damn it, Remus! And you’re the one who called it off!”

“It was the right decision.” Remus croaks out, plunging his hands into his hoodie’s pockets, doesn’t want Sirius to see the way they’re shaking.

“”For you. The right decision for you.” Sirius presses, his gray eyes dark underneath the stars. “And you know I’d do anything you wanted of me, but you don’t get to be mad at the ways I cope. And you sure as fuck don’t get to be jealous of fucking Gideon Prewett, as if he can hold a match to you.”

“Oh.” Is all Remus can gather to say, peering back down at his shoes and pressing together his lips, feels the most lost he ever has while around Sirius. “I love you too, you know that. You know I love you so much that it hurts sometimes— That was never the problem.”

Sirius makes a strangled sound deep in his throat, and the next second, Remus can’t feel the warmth of his body besides him because Sirius is darting over to the cusp of the lake and kicking at a rock. “Fuck, Remus. You can’t just say that, all right! You can’t because none of this is fair, or okay. And I fucking hate it and I hate this and—“

“Maybe we can try,” Remus says, quiet but unshaken. And he watches as Sirius slowly turns back around, face scrunched up in utter confusion, but eyes glittering with something like hope. “I love you Sirius, and you love me. And Lily’s right, fucking hell she’s so right. I can’t just turn it off, okay. I’ve tried and I’ve tried, but I can’t. I can’t be around you and not want every part of you. But I also can’t let myself stay away from you. So let’s try, and it’s probably a stupid difficult decision, and we’re going to be frustrated and we’re going to miss one another but I know there’s going to be no one I want more and I think you migh— Oof.”

Remus can’t continue rattling off any of the reasons why they should get back together, because Sirius is somehow magically popping up in front of him— his large hands cupping against Remus’s jawline and his thin lips crashing against him, and Remus can only wrap his arms around Sirius’s torso and give him back all he’s pushing forwards.

And it might’ve been a minute or an hour that past, but Sirius is pulling back with a face that looks lighter in ways Remus hasn’t seen on him since the breakup all those months ago. “I’d literally agree to anything if it means we can stay together, Moony. Absolutely anything.”

Remus feels the strain against the apples of his cheeks as he beams at him at the sound of the oath. “Yeah, me too Padfoot. Always and forever, it’s you.”

.-

My Other Wolfstar FIC💜

[juminsmysticmc]

I'm so sorry that you are sad. Honestly I was suprised that request are open for so long... So I will request! Can I have RFA + minor trio (i'm so happy that i don't have to choose one part this time, i love almost everyone) who was forced by her family to have job like lawyer or doctor but she dreamed about being a writer since she was very young? Thank you and don't be sad about lack of requests. I'm sure thatbin short time you will again have tons of them

RFA + Minor Trio with a Mc who was forced to do high sociality jobs instead of becoming an author

Thank you, yeah, they were open for a pretty long time, the likes and reblogs also went down a bit, I believe that I was gone for too long, ups.

But I will catch up!

Your words made me happy! Thank you for your support!

Jumin

,,I look up to you, my love,’’ Jumin praised you in your shared bedroom as you faced each other.

Your head was resting on his warm chest as you could hear his heartbeat.

,,Why?’’ you asked him, curious about what he would say next.

,,You achieved so much. You studied medicine and are a professor at such a young age, saving other people’s lives, it’s really amazing, you know?’’ he asked you, smiling down at you as you stayed silent for a few moments.

,,You think so? Because I always wanted to become an author. I can’t think of a time in my childhood in which I wasn’t thinking about a story. I only began to write them down way too late. I didn’t even get the chance to ask a publisher to look at them,’’ you whispered sadly, and Jumin could hear it.

,,Why didn’t you do that then?’’ he asked you, now patting your back.

,,I was forced to. My mother, gosh, it was such a hard time. That’s why I don’t have a good relationship with her.

She burned all my writings, forced me to go to the school she wanted, all because she wanted me to have a good stable job; a job with money, contacts to marry into a rich family, to marry another doctor, and open my own hospital.

Because she came from a medical family, I had to do the same.’’ you sighed.

,,Then… just resign, I will call a publisher tomorrow. You don’t need to worry about money. I already told you once… just put yourself above everyone else… if you want to become a writer, I will open that possibility for you… I will protect you, even in front of your mother,’’ Jumin whispered and held you tighter in his arms while you began to fall asleep with your heart at ease...

Zen ( this one was kinda hard cause, like everyone else knows, I always try to stick to the original story line and MC is his manager after they become a couple so…)

,,I’m so proud of you,’’ Zen laughed as he kissed you.

You just resigned your position as a lawyer, all because you were going for your own carrier.

,,Thank you, Zenny,’’ you mumbled and gave him a kiss on his cheek.

,,You motivated me to not do what my family wants. Thanks to you, I’ve realized that even if that was a stable job, nothing can beat doing something you love,’’ you laughed.

Zen knew that you were very brave and that it took you a lot of strength.

But luckily, you saved a lot of money in your years as a lawyer so every single door was open to you.

,,ARE YOU CRAZY?!’’ someone screamed when you just returned in front of Zen’s door.

,,YOU BARELY KNOW THIS MAN! WHAT CAN HE GIVE YOU?! NOTHING! HE WILL TAKE ALL YOUR MONEY!’’ your mother screamed at you.

,,Mother, I have enough of my own. So does Zen and we already talked about this. Besides, no one is saying that I won’t keep making money anymore,’’ you told her calmly, making your boyfriend even prouder.

,,Ah! And what do you intend to do? So you think that you will write something and someone else will make a book out of your crap?’’ she asked you, laughing at your idiotic idea, or so she thought.

,,No,’’ you laughed.

,,I will work as his manager and while I am doing so, I will write my own book, my steps, and a script for a movie. Everything is already set, mother,’’ you smiled and pulled Zen.

,,One day, we will be able to talk like a mother and a daughter, but until then, stay healthy,’’ you lastly said and then closed the door behind yourself.

Yoosung

As you helped Yoosung, he realized more and more that you taught him with a bit of bitterness.

Of course, humans and animals were different, but you noticed that there were a few basics you could help him to remember.

One day, Yoosung finally found enough strength to ask you about it.

,,Mc, do you like your job?’’ he asked you, a bit nervous even though you two had been together for such a long time.

You answered with a short, ,,no’’ and then you smiled.

,,I hate it. I wanted to become a writer. I put all my hope into it and lost. My parents were pretty strict and they still are. I had to become a doctor and I couldn’t change that. And so, here I am, with the most wonderful job, saving human beings, without actually enjoying it,’’ you told him and laid back on your chair.

,,And why do you keep doing it?’’ he asked you.

Well, that was a good question. You really had no idea...why…?

,,Let’s do it like this! Work on your books, on whatever you want to write. Write whenever you have time and once I have the job, you can resign yours! I will make your dream come true. You just have to go through it for a little while longer,’’ he smiled at you, actually making you tear up.

,,Yoosung, I’m so happy that I met you back then,’’ you laughed in tears and kissed him with all your love.

Jaehee

Back then, when Jaehee gave you the key, she never thought that this could be a harder fight than she imagined.

As a banker, one of the most known in Korea, you however, knew what you were talking about.

But something felt off.

And Jaehee, even though she didn’t like it, began to understand while you supported her so much with doing what she loved.

You were probably going through the same.

,,We need these credits and you need to fill out that page and sign here, these papers,’’ you told her, with the most monotone voice you ever had.

,,You don’t look as if you enjoy this. I’m sorry that you have to do this for us…’’ she mumbled.

In the next moment, you smiled at her. ,,Don’t worry, Jaehee. this just isn’t my favorite job, that’s why. I just don’t like my job, it has nothing to do with you,’’

This made her feel even more uncomfortable.

,,Mc, why don’t you do the same as me… I mean, I thought that we would do this together, but seeing you so busy… is that really something you want to do?’’ she asked you, more nervous than before.

Currently, Jaehee was questioning all her decisions.

Was it the right decision to leave Jumin’s company and open a shop with a stranger she kind of felt attracted to?

,,I’ll find a solution,’’ you smiled and stroked her arm.

,,I have to wait until we are finished with the preparations or else our money will be cut off and we won’t be able to do anything. Then, when this coffee shop is up and running, I will write a book about how to make it work, give out information without wanting money for it, and just helping people,’’ you smiled, your eyes looked even warmer now.

,,You- oh my, my head, what was I thinking? Of course, what you’re saying makes so much sense,’’ she laughed.

,,Let’s do this. I will support you with all my heart,’’ she smiled and signed the paper you needed from her.

Saeyoung

,,I’m home,’’ you called as you rushed inside and took off your shoes.

Saeyoung rushed to your side as he helped you to take off your jacket.

,,How was your day, my dear?’’ he said.

You were shocked to see your fiancé in a dress with fake hair.

,,What the heck are you doing?’’ you laughed as you kissed him.

,,Since you weren’t home, I had to play the madam of the house,’’ he acted.

,,In short, he had to act like an idiot,’’ Saeran said and rolled his eyes as your friends, the other members of the RFA laughed.

Yes, carefree days finally came.

,,How was work?’’ Zen asked you.

,,Please, no, don’t let me begin! I hate it! Being a judge for teenagers is just so… Ah, I can’t take it anymore! I’m pissed and I don’t want to do it anymore,’’ you said and drank some water.

,,Why?’’ Jaehee asked you. You were doing a good job, why did you think like that?

,,Because I don’t want to take children from their parents anymore. I’m sick and tired of it,’’ you answered.

,,If they get neglected…’’ Saeyoung answered, this time being serious. He knew what he was talking about.

You looked at him. You understood his point, but…

,,It’s not fair to judge by things you hear or experience yourself. Sometimes, there are good parents who lose their children, you know?’’ you warned him.

But you already knew that Saeyoung put an end to all of this, even though you didn’t like the way he did it, just like he did it for Zen back then when he posted a short chapter of your book and made a lot of publishers come to you.

As a little thank you, he said back then.

And even though you didn’t like the method he used, you were thankful to him and were happy.

If someone wants to see a oneshot out of this HC please comment below or send me a message ( anon works out too ) I want to hear your opinions.

Saeran

You laid down on your couch when you turned your head around to read the time.

Once again, it was 3 am.

Saeran walked over to you without you noticing him and hugged you from behind.

,,You’re still not sleeping?’’ you asked him and nuzzled your face into his neck, inhaling Saeran’s scent.

,,Jumin needed help with something and I had to finish it,’’ he lied. He waited for you but he would never tell you. The thing he worked on wasn’t even that important.

He just wanted to see you, because as a politician, you two barely had time for each other.

It was funny. He hated politicians, his ,,father’’ at first, but you… you were different.

You were fighting for something.

And he knew that if it wasn’t for him, you would have given up this job a long time ago.

,,You know, if you want to do something else, do it… you don’t have to stay in that position just for me,’’ he mumbled as he stroked your hair.

,,It’s okay. We need to save Saeyoung. I don’t want to get revenge, but I want everyone involved to get what they deserve. You know, back then I never would have thought that the job my father forced on me would someday help you. I always hated him and myself for not being able to change it. But as soon as we win this fight, I will finally realize my dream and write a book about our life. What happened to you and Saeyoung should go public and I will fight for it!’’ you told him.

He hugged you and took you in his arms, carrying you to your shared bed.

,,We should pay our respect to your father and visit him over the weekend,’’ he whispered and waited for your answer, but you already fell asleep.

,,Thank you, Mc,’’ he whispered before he also fell asleep.

Jihyun

,,I never thought that in the two years I wasn’t around you, you would actually change your job. I’m happy that now you’re able to do what you always wanted to do,’’ Jihyun praised you.

,,Yes, thank you. I never liked working in a hospital, although I grew with the job. 

But today, writing about all these things helped me.

And I finally showed my parents that a writer can also be something to look up to,’’ you smiled as you watched your daughter Lucy.

,,Did you ever speak to them again?’’ he asked you.

Your parents and his father didn’t come to your wedding; that was why only the RFA came.

It was kind of sad that the only true friends you guys had were the RFA, but everyone else weren’t really people you would call friends.

,,No, well, having a daughter going from being a surgeon to being an author is something to feel disappointed about, apparently,’’ you laughed sadly.

,,I will never ever forbid Lucy to do anything she loves,’’ you said and then looked over to Jihyun.

He nodded and agreed with you.

Your husband hugged you and kissed your cheek, he had to think about the time he first saw that you actually published something. He could only imagine how hard that time must have been for you.

He was also kind of sad that he wasn’t there with you. Jumin told him later that he actually supported you a lot without even telling you because he knew that you would have never accepted his help.

But from now on, he would be there and support you.

For you, and for the sake of his family and friends.

Vanderwood

One day, when Vanderwood was cleaning up after the two of you moved in, he saw a box.

The box, which was standing in the middle of a room, was getting on his nerves so much that the long haired man decided to throw it away, thinking that it was nothing but trash in there.

However, he soon realized that he had been horribly wrong.

The box slipped out of his hands and a lot of papers fell out.

,,Huh?’’ he asked himself as he picked one up, the words “chapter one” written on it.

One by one, Vanderwood sorted the papers and actually noticed that three whole books were inside the box as single pages.

Just when Vanderwood was at chapter six of one of the books, you entered, the cleaning session long forgotten when you arrived.

,,What is that?’’ you asked him when you saw that he actually read something from your books.

,,You should tell me, don’t you know that that’s against the copyrights? I mean, you are a lawyer, you should know that-’’ Vanderwood quickly stayed silent when he saw your tears.

,,I can hide this scandal, you know?’’ he whispered.

But he was totally wrong.

,,I wrote it years ago. Back when my father lost a trial because of a lawyer. At that time, he forced me to become one too to get revenge.

And so I had to give up on my books,’’ you told him.

,,But your father died! Who cares?! Change jobs!’’ he said, a bit louder.

,,With what money should we pay for the appartnemnt with… and the food?’’ you asked him and laughed. He seemed to forget that he still didn’t have a job and that you were the only one with an income.

,,We will manage. I will make it come true,’’ he told you, and indeed, Vanderwood made everything you wished for come true.

You didn’t know how, and he asked you to not ask about his methods, but your books were published. You could work as an author and could give up what you didn’t enjoy and he was actually working as your manager.

,,I told you to clean the keyboard twice a day!’’ he hissed while you smiled at him.

MASTERLIST 1

MASTERLIST 2

MASTERLIST 3

29.03.2021// 22:26 MEST

[the-gay-prometheus]

Frankenstein AU Segment - “A Time to Mourn” Part 1

Uh- hi - I couldn’t figure out a better title for this one so. We’re stuck with this for now until I think of something better.

Anyways.

This one takes place quite a while after the segment called 'Try.' There's a bit of context missing because of this but... Hopefully it's not too confusing.

A bit of background on this. I knew for a while that I wanted to introduce Ernest and Elizabeth into the main story by having Victor, Henry, and Agape visit William’s grave and be found entirely by accident, but I wasn’t really sure how I wanted to make that happen. And then, in my brain’s infinite wisdom, I came up with.... whatever the hell this is.

Fun fact - part of the writing process for this legitimately had me physically sobbing. Which is kind of sad considering... this isn’t even close to the most painful part of the AU as a whole. Point is though, it took me way longer to write because how in the world do you put into words something that there are no words to describe? I know for sure I still wasn’t able to do it justice despite spending weeks thinking it over and writing and rewriting it, but I think I got it as close as I could possibly get.

Now on to the somewhat disappointing part: this segment is technically going to be posted in two parts. I didn’t intend for it to end up being another two-parter, but what ended up happening was that I suddenly realized I had five pages of content written for it already despite still having more to write and, if I had ended up introducing Ernest the way I originally wanted to, that would have taken up another page or two at least. That would have ended up being a nine to ten page segment - which is waaaay too long if you ask me. This does unfortunately mean that Ernest’s true introduction is going to be delayed, but....

There is a bright side to this, though! I have a new idea for the full introduction of Ernest, and this means that Ernest will actually be getting a segment that is primarily focused on himself way sooner than I originally anticipated. I think he deserves as much, to be honest. 

...All of that out of the way, on to the story.

A few warnings for this one: Mentions of blood, death of a child, and breaking bones (if you catch any I missed, please let me know asap!)

As always, likes, reblogs, and comments of any kind are highly appreciated!

It was before the sun rose that Victor awoke, somehow feeling entirely alert despite having only slept a few hours. He sat up in bed, staring at the wall in silence as he prepared himself for the day and the journey ahead. Henry stirred beside him, and though Victor hushed him quietly, his hazel eyes shuttered open. Still half asleep, he yawned and wriggled slightly, pulling the blanket over himself more before slowly starting to half sit upright. “Mm… it’s not already time for you to leave yet, is it?” he grumbled, voice raspy from sleep.

“If I want to make this as quick a trip as possible, yes,” Victor sighed in return, reaching over and taking Henry’s hand.

“And you promise you’ll be back in two days at most?”

“I promise,” Victor answered quietly, lifting his hand and gingerly kissing the back of it. Henry smiled slightly, shifting his grip and returning the kiss with one of his own on the back of Victor’s hand. Victor smiled back, but the expression soon faded into a more solemn one. “Do you promise you’ll keep him here until I come back?” Henry nodded.

“I promise. We’ll… probably go climbing or something,” he replied, sitting more upright and leaning his head on Victor’s shoulder. Victor rested his head against Henry’s, staring ahead once again.

“You should probably talk to him today, while you’re at it,” he suggested. Henry glanced up at him.

“Only if he brings it up. I don’t think he’d take it well if I was the one to bring it up.” Victor was silent, but nodded after a moment. With great effort, he pried himself away from Henry and slipped out of bed to prepare himself for the journey ahead. As he dressed himself, Henry stretched and pulled himself out of bed, walking over and wrapping his arms around Victor from behind once he was fully dressed in his traveling clothes. Victor leaned back into him as Henry placed his chin on his shoulder, raising one hand and placing his palm on Henry’s cheek. “I wish I could come with you,” Henry murmured quietly.

“I know,” Victor replied, “but someone needs to stay and make sure Agape doesn’t leave.” He sighed softly. “In a perfect world you could come with me and I could trust he wouldn’t follow but… we both know him. He’d follow even if he promised not to.” Henry nodded.

“You’re right. But I’ll still miss you.” Victor smiled, pulling back and turning to face him. He stood on his toes and rested his arms on Henry’s shoulders before kissing him softly, Henry reciprocating as he wrapped his arms back around him.

“I know,” Victor answered as he pulled back again. “I’ll miss you too.” Despite Henry’s reluctance to let him go, Victor moved to grab his black coat from the hook by the bedroom door.

“Please take care of yourself while you’re gone,” Henry requested, walking over and helping him to put the coat on. Victor nodded, popping the collar up.

“I will, as best as I’m able.” Just as he opened the door, Henry took hold of his arm and pulled him in for one last kiss, which Victor certainly didn’t protest to. After a moment, he gently tapped Henry’s shoulder, and Henry begrudgingly broke away, a sort of pouting expression in his eyes that made Victor smile. He walked out of the room, silently opening the front door and stepping outside. Henry followed him to the door, standing in the doorway as Victor took a moment to look up at the starry morning sky, admiring how the black of night had begun to lighten around the horizon with the coming sunrise.

“Victor?” Henry called as he watched his husband begin to make his way toward the trail that would lead down the mountain. Victor paused and turned.

“Hm?”

“I love you.” Victor smiled.

“I love you too. I’ll be back before you know it.” With that, he turned again, and disappeared into the trees.

---

“Agape?” Henry called out, worry in his voice as he trudged through the forest, frantically searching in every direction. “Agape?!” After Victor left, he had crawled back into bed and - despite intending to only sleep until just after the sun fully rose, he had managed to sleep in until noon. When he awoke, he realized that his son was nowhere to be found. Though he tried to keep calm, he was terrified. After all, he promised Victor that he wouldn’t let him leave, but now he couldn’t even find him. He searched each of Agape’s usual favorite thinking spots - the pool in the mossy clearing, the circle of stones that looked like they had been intentionally placed in the middle of a stand of silver fir, the grove of collapsed larches from some long-past avalanche, the massive waterfall that dropped from the edge of a cliff and left the forest around it coated in mist - he was still nowhere to be found. The final place he could think to check was the alpine meadow on the other end of the forest, and as he passed through the final tangle of branches, he breathed a sigh of relief as he caught sight of the one he was looking for. Agape stood very still, his long black hair and dark cloak gently billowing in the mountain breeze as he overlooked the peaks on the horizon. Henry approached him slowly and solemnly, standing at his side and staring off in the same direction. “Agape I… I was hoping you would have come and talked to me this morning.”

“You were still asleep when I awoke,” Agape replied after a moment’s silence. “I did not wish to wake you.”

“Instead you worried me half sick,” Henry pointed out, turning his eyes to him.

“That was not my intention.” As he stared out over the distant heights, Henry searched his expression for how he was feeling. “I needed some time to… think.”

“About?” Henry asked, sitting on the grass and motioning for him to sit as well. Agape looked down at him, and hesitated for a moment before sitting beside him.

“I required time to think about what I should do,” he concluded, looking down as he brushed his fingers through the grass around him. He turned, his eyes settling on a patch of wildflowers further down the slope. “I… wish to pay my respects.” Henry tensed.

“That’s… that’s a wonderful idea Agape but, well-” He paused, unsure of how to word it and worried he might take it the wrong way. “Well… Victor- he… See, that’s- that’s where Victor is off to at the moment. And he specifically requested to be-” He cut himself off as Agape suddenly stood, and began walking over to the patch of wildflowers. “Agape?” The tall figure bent down, and began plucking a few of the flowers. Curious, Henry stood and walked over to him. As he walked over, Agape straightened himself upright, and held out a small handful of the flowers for Henry to see.

“As I recall, flowers are a customary gift for the dead, correct?” he asked. Henry was about to reply, when he caught sight of the flowers that Agape held. They were small, pale blue, and grew in clusters on long, vibrant green stems. “Myosotis alpestris,” he recited, recalling the scientific name from one of his and Victor’s many excursions to this spot. “Commonly known as-”

“Forget-me-nots,” Henry breathed, looking up at him. Agape nodded.

“Indeed. They seem… most appropriate.” Suddenly Henry was conflicted. On one hand, he knew Victor needed time to grieve alone. After all, it had been two years, and all that time, he never really had a moment to spend truly grieving. But on the other hand… there was Agape. Clearly seeking something, likely closure or forgiveness, and who was he to deny him that?  “If I wish to arrive there in a timely fashion I should leave presently,” Agape continued, breaking him from his thoughts.

“I’m coming with you,” Henry blurted out before he could consider trying to change his son’s mind. Agape gave him an odd, yet comforted look.

“I would much appreciate your accompaniment, Henry, but if that is the case then we truly must leave right away unless you intend for me to carry you.” Henry shook his head.

“That won’t be necessary,” he answered. “Though I may take you up on that offer on the way back.” Agape nodded.

“I understand. In which case, let us be on our way.”

---

By the time Victor arrived at his family’s cemetery, it was well into the night and the full moon coated the land in an eerie pale gleam. Throughout his journey he had felt strangely numb, as though the reality of it all still hadn’t set in yet - which was especially strange, considering it had been two years now. Still, as he stepped beyond the gate, it seemed as though the weight of every body that lay beneath was piled on top of him and for a moment he struggled to breathe. Memories flooded back of his time in Ingolstadt, digging through graves in the middle of the night, sorting through corpses, picking and choosing which parts he would take and which he would leave behind. Although he knew he had nothing to fear, a chill ran down his spine as he felt like a hundred spirits had gathered around him to judge him for his actions. He shook the thought away, gripping at the collar of his coat and pulling it to cover his face as he walked onward. Searching through the names he once played amongst as a child, he finally came across the headstone he was looking for, and upon seeing it he suddenly felt sick to his stomach. Resting serenely beneath a willow was a small granite stone that read ‘William Frankenstein ~ Tragically murdered on May 7th aged 8 years.’ It felt like a nightmare. It felt like it shouldn’t be real. Even after all this time, he couldn’t picture it. The last time he had seen his brother, he was no more than an infant, and he couldn’t fathom what the body six feet beneath where he stood might have looked like. Though his throat was suddenly dry, he shuddered and swallowed hard as he reached out and placed a hand on the cold stone.

“I-” His voice cracked as he began to speak. “I don’t… I don’t know what to say to you. I… I don’t have the words.” He hesitated, clenching his eyes shut. “How, William- how have I continued on knowing that your innocent blood is on my hands? I’m... I never should have-” He sucked in a shaky breath, then suddenly recoiled as a horrible vision swam in his mind. He could see it clearly: his creation’s horrible hand upon the throat of a child, yellow eyes burning with fury as he squeezed the life out of his infant brother. A squeak of disgust escaped his throat at the thought, and he trembled. “I never should have done it. I never should have created it. I- If I hadn’t you would still be alive and- and-” His trembling worsened and he broke into a cold sweat. “Good god William, what the hell am I doing? That thing, that demon, he slaughtered you with his bare hand, and here I am playing the father figure. You, my own brother, perished from his malice and I have been treating him with dignity he most certainly doesn’t deserve!” he exclaimed, his voice hoarse. “How blinded by my own fear of what he might do have I been? How insulting it must be to see me treat your murderer with such care.” He nearly fell as his trembling worsened, and he caught his fall upon the edge of the headstone with a gasp. Slowly, he recovered and stood. “How-” he was cut off by the sound of footsteps, and for a moment fear gripped him until he turned. Walking into the cemetery were two familiar shapes, and though in other circumstances he might have been glad to see them, in this particular moment he felt his blood boil with rage. “You’ve got an awful lot of nerve to follow me here,” he seethed as they approached, his eyes narrowed as he glared at them. Henry sighed, glancing away as he stopped just a few feet from where Victor stood.

“I know- I’m sorry but-”

“No, Henry,’” Victor snapped, clenching his fists. “You. Promised.”

“Yes, I did, and I shouldn’t have. This isn’t about me and it isn’t about you either. He-” Agape slowly walked forward, his expression seemingly blank as his yellow eyes stared down at the headstone. Victor felt rage coursing through him at the sight, his mind still reeling from the dreadful vision he had witnessed only moments ago.

“Get the hell out of my sight,” Victor snarled at the creature, his hand shaking as he forcefully pointed toward the exit. Agape didn’t respond, instead simply taking another silent step. Henry wanted to speak up, but kept his mouth shut, knowing nothing he would say could possibly help. “How dare you come here! After what you did to him you-” He cut himself off as the creature took another step. “Are you listening to me? Get. Out!” he cried, pointing once again toward the exit. Another step. “I swear if you take one more step I will not be responsible for my actions,” he hissed. Another step, suddenly more unsteady this time. Victor felt fury swell within him and he suddenly lunged toward his creation. Henry grabbed him before he could lay so much as a finger on Agape, and Victor in turn was about to push him away to make another attempt at striking the creature, when his eyes caught sight of pale blue clutched between his creation’s boney hands. He hesitated suddenly, his vision focusing to realize that Agape held a small bouquet of various wildflowers he had plucked along the journey to the cemetery, though most numerous in the assortment was forget-me-nots. His eyes widened and he felt some of his rage dissipate as Agape took another faltering step. Henry, seeing that Agape was struggling, instinctively moved to help him, but Victor raised an arm and stopped him. “Agape?” Victor managed to hoarsely call out. The creature did not answer, and simply took another step, now standing directly over the grave. All seemed unnaturally silent, no rustling of branches in the breeze or calls of nocturnal creatures, just silence. Victor felt his heart sink as he beheld his creation suddenly tense hard. “...Agape-”

There was a war suddenly raging within the creature’s heart. Such was his anguish at the thought of his crimes that he felt as though every stitch was tearing out of its seam. His memory flooded with dreaded images he had tried so hard to suppress, and it overwhelmed him. As he tried to keep his composure, his grasp on the flowers tightened. Terror gripped him as the soft crumpling of the stems sounded more like sickening cracks in his ears and the damp feeling of now crushed stalks felt more like blood covering his hands. Though they were only wilted flowers, in the vision of his troubled mind, he held the broken neck of a young boy, and in horror he released his grip. He stared down at his hands, shaking violently, before suddenly collapsing to his knees. An indescribably banshee-like scream of pure agony escaped him as he threaded his fingers through his long black hair and gripped the locks tightly as though he were ready to rip them from his own skull. Both Victor and Henry flinched at the dreadful noise, Henry turning away and Victor struggling to hold back a sob of his own. Tears gushed from Agape’s eyes, falling heavy into the grass below, and he struggled to breathe between the cries of despair that escaped him.

As Victor took in a shaky breath, he felt himself tremble as his thoughts flooded with everything he had just said. After all this time, he had never really considered how Agape might have been reflecting on his own actions, or how he too might have been hiding just how much emotional pain he was in regarding that fateful event. And, if this was still the cold hearted murderer he had considered his creation might be, then why would he be in such clearly torturous distress over the death over the one he himself had killed? Worse yet, he knew better - he had seen just how far Agape had come in coping with his emotions and relating to others. He had seen the amount of care and sympathy this miraculous creature showed toward Henry and himself, how selfless he had always been. After all, even though Victor wished that perhaps he had stayed dead, it was out of a deep familial love that Agape had used the very elixir and device that was meant to create an everlasting companion for himself to instead restore his creator - his father - to life. And, in a very real sense, Agape was still a child. For a child to spend two years silently coping with a trauma so intense, though it may have been a trauma the child himself caused, was a burden that Victor could barely comprehend. All at once, whatever malice he still held for his creation within him melted away, and, making the first move, he walked toward his son and shakily placed a hand on his shoulder.

Agape had finally begun to quiet himself while Victor had been hesitating to make any movement, but as soon as he felt the hand of his father placed gently upon him, he felt a sudden swell of heartbreaking pain and he lurched with a sob. In his mind, he deserved no sympathy, and feeling that this man who had just moments prior hurled threats at him was moved so deeply by his grief that he might entirely change his own damaged perspective, shattered his already guilt ridden soul. Victor himself could no longer hold back his emotions, breaking into tears of his own. He flinched slightly as he suddenly felt a hand placed on his shoulder, and exhaled a shaky breath as he recognized the gentle touch as his husband’s. Henry lingered there behind him for a moment, but slowly moved to his son’s other side, kneeling beside him and resting a hand gently upon his back. Though he opened his mouth to speak, he was shocked into silence as Victor spoke instead.

“I am so-” He hesitated, tensing and shuddering before inhaling sharply and continuing. “So sorry.” The words hurt to say, there was no denying that. The moment they left his lips it felt like a dagger cutting into his chest and a fire burning in his throat. Agape’s still tear-filled eyes widened as he heard them, but he stayed silent, not daring to speak in fear of even the slightest chance that his words may only serve to condemn himself more. Once he regained his composure, Victor went on. “I may be cursed with the knowledge of what happened, with knowing that what I did played a part in sealing his fate, but you…” He swallowed hard, and knelt down beside him, reaching out and turning Agape’s face toward him though his son’s yellow eyes averted from his gaze. “You who have changed and grown, who I have watched make such strides of progress toward returning to the kind and gentle soul you once possessed-” Agape winced at his words, strands of his long black hair falling over his face and hiding his eyes. Victor gently pushed the locks away, tucking them behind his ear. “To be forever stained with vivid memories of what you once did, and to hide the pain it must have caused you as you came to realize that action was such a grievous atrocity for the sake of keeping peace - I can only imagine what a living hell it must have been for all that time.” Picking up one of the flowers, though damaged, he held it up and inspected the pale blue of its tiny petals. “I thought maybe you had simply… forgotten. That maybe to you it had been such an inconsequential action, that maybe all it was, was a means to an end.” He placed the flower down in front of the headstone, and gazed upon the engraving. “It doesn’t make logical sense, though, to think that you might have forgotten, given your… impeccable memory. So maybe that was a lie I told myself - to make blaming you and resenting you justifiable.” He glanced over at Henry, who was staring at him from Agape’s other side with a kind, compassionate smile despite the tears still rolling down his freckled cheeks, and in an instant his guilt and regret melted away into a gentle warmth that seeped through him and turned his pained expression into a similarly soft smile. Agape’s immense frame trembled with a long, labored exhale.

“I am undeserving of your sympathy, Victor. The crime I committed was unforgivable.”

“He never said that your crime was forgiven,” Henry pointed out gently. Agape gave him a pained glance. “Killing a child for the sake of gaining compassion by force is unforgivable, it’s true. But no matter how unforgivable an action may be, no man is born or created innately knowing what is forgivable and what is not. It’s what he chooses to do with the knowledge of his actions that determines whether he himself is worthy of forgiveness or not.” There was a long pause as Agape considered what Henry said.

“Given all I have done and everything I am, would I be considered worthy? Was his murder not so damning that I should be forever condemned? Is there any stride I could make that could in some way restore my dignity of one worth the forgiveness of those he so grievously harmed?” He struggled to steady his voice between each still labored breath, each pulse within him carrying a dull ache of still ever-growing guilt and shame.

“Well,” Victor began, reaching out to him and wiping the tears from his eyes. “All things considered, I would say-” He cut himself off as he perceived in his peripheral vision a gleaming light that seemed to be quickly approaching. He looked to Henry, who seemed to be staring out at the glow with squinted eyes. “Henry,” he whispered somewhat harshly. Henry turned his gaze back down to him. “What is it?”

“Someone is coming,” Henry whispered back. Agape flinched at his words and made a quiet noise almost like a yelp, suddenly clutching at the edges of his cloak and pulling it tighter around himself. Both Victor and Henry hushed him softly, though they looked to each other with concern.

“What do we do?” Footsteps could be heard approaching through the grass beyond - two steps and a gentle tap with each stride. Henry lifted his eyes back up toward the approaching figure.

“...I’ll handle it,” he muttered. “Besides, we can’t risk… you know,” he added, gesturing toward Agape. Victor nodded silently, dropping his eyes to the ground and placing a hand back up onto Agape’s shoulder and squeezing tightly - half to reassure him, and half to give himself something to hold on to as he tried not to imagine the worst. Gently pulling the hood of Agape’s cloak over his head, Henry stood, turning toward the figure and trying to determine who it might be. The voice that called out from beyond sent a sudden chill through Victor’s veins and a new fear gripped at his heart. He wasn’t ready for this. Not here. Not now.

“Hello? Who’s there?”

[lucky-bucky-boy]

Cruel Summer Pt. II

Summary: Based loosely off of Cruel Summer by Taylor Swift. Huge muse for this part was also Resentment by Kesha. After what was considerably one of the worst nights to ever be lived, things just seem to keep getting worse. Or will they?

Word Count: 2634

Warnings: Angst, lots of fucking angst, the reader talking a lot, manipulative speech, very slight age gap, anxiety, almost ddlg elements but not quite (Please let me know if I missed anything, I will be happy to add on)

A/N: Tags are at the bottom I know this had been long awaited and I’m so sorry it took so long. I had to rewrite the beginning so many times because the first part just seemed to flow so beautifully and I was having troubles encapsulating the grace. Will be added to AO3 at some point. NO spoilers, takes place before the events of Knives out. Read Part One Here

I do not own these characters. Do NOT repost my writing and/or fics anywhere without my written permission. Reblogs, likes, comments, and constructive criticism welcomed and highly appreciated.

Golden rays of sunshine creeped over rooftops, illuminating the room as it fought the cold of the night out that had settled in every crevice - a cold that was a constant reminder of the half empty bed. Soft sheets and expensive pillows that we no better than the pictures that were facedown on the dresser. A light snore and ball of exuberant warmth curled at the end of the unnecessary king size bed that somehow managed to ignite joy while drowning the feeling with sorrow. Even in the early morning hours, just minutes after the sun had risen, there was only one thing to be thought about, one person; Ransom. 

An insistent vibrating disturbed what little peace had fallen over the room, uncharacteristically early to the weekly norm. Even after it would stop, moments later it would begin again and it seemed that it wasn't going to go away anytime soon. A crack in the foundation, a rumbling earthquake that rocked the stability and what had started becoming a little better everyday was ready to crumble and fall. 

Paying attention to details should be a strong suit for someone who had two books published and one in the works - it was a talent that was nearly mastered by this point. But, emotionally drained and foggy brained from the expense that was a Thrombey family dinner, one that would surely be the talk of the family for months, and a restless night filled with discomfort and anxiety left any common sense buried under endless amounts of exhaustion. 

A quick swipe of a thumb, the light press of the cell phone to your ear, and suddenly everything froze. The feeling as if suddenly bathed in freezing water while fiery coals scorched your feet, butterflies lifting your chest higher to cloud nine while a pit opened in your stomach, heart racing with some wild mixture of dread and excitement; "My house at 3. Don't be late, baby girl."

That godforsaken drawl, the smirk that was evident in his voice, the fucking nickname. The line went dead, a heavy silence flooding the room like a tsunami. Thoughts raced in circles, picking apart and trying to guess what he could possibly want. 

Was he going to rub it in your face that he got under your skin? Made your blood boil? Of course he knew how he affected you, he knew you too well, better than anyone would like to admit. An apology? No - that's too far fetched, even after everything Ransom never was the one to apologize, even if he also knew it would be best. Possibly he had gathered the rest of your things, finally ready to rid himself of them. It's not like you took much when he told you to leave, and it was unlikely he would have taken the time himself to go through everything. He probably paid the maid extra to do it overnight so he wouldn't have to.

Either way, after last night, Ransom was the last person you wanted or expected to hear from. The sting of the incident, salt that was rubbed roughly in an aging wound, still fluttered deep in your chest. His words, the family's reaction, the countless notifications still untouched. Nothing anyone could have told you or showed you would have prepared you for what you had felt in that moment. 

Heavy limbs moved numbly but swiftly, mind working like the rusted innards of a clock, slow and almost confused. It didn't make sense as to why he would want to see you, he had done enough damage as is. The confusion quickly boiled over, simmering down to a fluttering anxiety of constant what ifs running their courses through your mind. 

The growing pup stirred at the feel of you moving from the bed, quickly laying his head back down when he saw you trudge into the bathroom. After a much longer than anticipated shower, the feel of the too warm water running down your skin and feeling as though it was washing away every single issue and emotion, a wave a vague normalcy set in. 

For at least a little you could believe this was normal, that it was just like last summer. Get up, get ready for the day, get some work done, then pamper before heading over to see Ransom. Just this time, there was a slightly different agenda. It wouldn't be all heated kisses, starved touches, and craved intimacy, it wouldn't be whispers of sweet nothings and the comfort of a protective embrace - even if every fiber of you craved it like a bad drug, it couldn't happen again, at least not that easily. And who was to say that was even his plan.

Anticipation made the hours go by slower than what was deemed truly plausible, and no matter what the possibilities of what was to come just wouldn't stop taunting every corner of your thoughts. Embarrassingly so you found yourself preparing much earlier than necessary, restyling yourself a handful of times to make sure stunning couldn't even come close to describing how effortlessly perfect you looked. If Ransom wanted to play games, you were determined to have the ball in your field for as long as possible. And to top it off, you made sure that nothing you had on was bought by him. 

But you could only hope that your efforts weren't in vain as you made your way to his house, a place of memories in the middle of pretty much nowhere. An almost 40 minute drive making way for doubts to slowly creep in and settle in the back of your mind. What if he could tell you tried too hard? He could so easily read you, it was as if you were one of your books. Or what if he thought you were trying to impress him? The only time you ever went out of your way to put much effort into your appearance was when you wanted him to really notice you or if he was taking you out. Maybe going in general was a bad idea and this was just some sick joke of his. 

But there was no time to back out as you pulled up in front of the house, his sitting silhouette evident through the glass window. Ransom noticed you immediately, moving to sit whatever was in his hands down and made his way to the door, already standing on the porch before you had even gotten out of your car. 

A slight uneasiness settled between the two of you, his arms crossed over his chest and eyebrows raised as he watched you, almost expectantly. The look was reminiscent of how your parents would stare you down when you were younger, when you had done something wrong. 

You stood outside your car, staring at him and matching his stance, only adding to the annoyance that was written on his face. "What do you want, Hugh?" The irritation in your voice was evident, and you were more than thankful your words didn't fail you. Stomach twisting in intricate knits, chest fluttering, palms becoming clammy; it was a genuine miracle you hadn't tripped over your words. 

His set jaw clenched, nostrils flaring as he registered how you spoke to him, how you addressed him, "Just get in here. We need to talk."

A scoff fell from your lips as you made your way inside, "Always the gentlemen, aren't you," you spat, rolling your eyes as you walked towards the kitchen. Despite not intending on staying long, you threw your belongings on the island and leaned against the marble countertop, watching him as he stalked towards you, a nearly predatory look in his eyes. "What exactly do we need to talk about? I feel like last night made our positions pretty fucking clear."

He tsked, shaking his head. "You just don't get it, baby girl, dya?" 

Ransom opened his mouth to talk again but you cut him off, agitation finally bubbling over and bordering on rage, "I don't get it?" The words were hissed out and soaked in utter disbelief, "What exactly don't I fucking get, Ransom? The fact that you like to start shit? Or the fact that months after you told me to get the fuck out, you show up to a dinner you don't ever go to to cause a fucking scene, then tell me to meet you at your house the next day? What twisted memory of yours triggered you to suddenly act like you care about me? Why the fuck couldn't you just leave well enough alone?"

The taught muscles of his jaw twitched, intense blues boring into your own gaze. "You're such a spoilt fucking brat," he groaned out. "We had an agreement. No one was supposed to find out, but you had to go and-"

"I had to go and what?" You cut him off once again, only fueling the tension between the two of you and prodding the beast of emotions that was storming inside both of your bellies, "You are the one who opened your mouth, you are the one who fucking started this, all of this. From that night in the fucking bar, to you telling me I was the best thing to ever happen to you, to opening up your mouth last night. You always start it. And you're just pissed I finished it before you could get me to break in front of you."

A lump in your throat was beginning to form, jaw clenching as you swallowed, a feeble attempt to keep your emotions from getting the best of you. The rage was quickly turning into sorrow and hurt, the fire in your chest turning into an ache that couldn't be ignored, "You're just disappointed I waited until I got home, got away from you, to break down. Because you didn't get the satisfaction of seeing the pain you've caused."

There was a sudden twist in the atmosphere, hurricane breaking for a moment of relief before harsh waves continued to crash against the shore, "You act like I wanted to hurt you," his voice was grim, face painting in slight disgust, "Everything was great between us - You are the one who broke the rules. Not me." 

Ransom's head cocked to the side some, gaze moving over your features quickly, examining and calculating, "And even now," a small huff in disbelief as he shook his head, large hand moving to run through his hair which you had just noticed was free of any products. Odd, even for him. "Even now, you still came, you're still here. And I'm still thinking of giving you another chance."

Something buried deep within you snapped, a flood of pain filling every nerve and forcing tears to well in your eyes. "You're giving me another chance?" Any illusion of resolve and strength that had been built up had disappeared as quick as a snap of fingers, uneven breaths doing their best to keep the floodgates closed. "Ransom, you broke my fucking heart," each word filled with more hurt and distrust than the last, each a cut to the man who stood before you, his face softening as he watched you, "You're not the one here who should be giving out second chances, you're the one who should be receiving them."

The realization hit him, a douse of cold water to the face as his mind worked. Silence, albeit slightly uncomfortable, fell between the two of you as the gravity of the last few moments came crashing down. Just as it became too much to handle, lip quivering as the overwhelming urge to cry started becoming harder to fight off, his arms wrapped around you and pulled you into him. 

Time seemed to slow, a few broken sobs slipping out, body shaking with the force of each one. The natural scent of him filling your senses, no expensive cologne, the feel of the soft sweater an unwanted comfort. Ransom's arms hugged tighter, lips going to your hairline, and staying like that until reality hit you. A weak push, one he could have easily ignored and overpowered, and he stepped away, his features much more readable, looking far more vulnerable. He was much more vulnerable, much more vulnerable than you were ever used to.

Shaky breaths fell from you, trying to clear the fog that was beginning to form over rational thoughts. Wiping your eyes you looked at him, "What exactly is it that you want, Ransom? Why did you really ask me to come over?"

He looked almost taken aback, confused and dazed by the question, but more so by his own train of thought. His mouth opened then closed, repeating the action a few more times before groaning out exasperatedly. "I don't know, for things to go back to how they were?" It sounded far more like a suggestion than an answer. "Come on, (Y/N), we were good together." 

The words came off as if he was trying to convince himself that this was what he wanted. You waited, seeing if he would try to convince you, persuade you like he believed he so easily could, how he used to. "I- No," you shook your head, "I can't do that to myself again, I can't let you do that to me again."

"Do what?" He practically snapped, jaw setting as agitation made home in him once again. He didn't expect it to be so damn hard. He no undoubtedly assumed that he'd immediately have you wrapped around his finger like nothing had changed. "Treat you like a fucking princess? Treat you how you deserve to be treated? You and I both know that you're never gonna be able to find someone who can give you what I gave you, nothing that's going to have that same thrill we did."

Shaking your head you grabbed your bag, throwing it over your shoulder. "See Ransom, you're the one that doesn't get it. I want that more than anything. I want the spontaneous trips and heartfelt gifts. I want the late night conversations and finishing each other's sentences. I would give anything to be on your jet flying to whatever place you're insisting I need to see. I want it all," your voice was practically a whine by the end of it, "But I don't want the sneaking and the hiding. I don't want the separate houses. I don't want lying to everyone."

Running a hand through your hair, you took a shaky breath, trying to calm your nerves. "I need someone who isn't going to just care for me behind a closed door," the calmness of your voice even scared you in the moment, and seeing that Ransom practically froze you could tell he was feeling the same, "I need someone who is going to be there for me how you were, but isn't ashamed of it. That won't get mad when I take cutesy pictures of us on the beach, that won't pretend to hate me in front of their family and friends, that I don't have to pretend is someone else when I'm talking about them. I don't want things to go back to how they were, I want them to be better than they were."

You walked past his nearly frozen stature, heading for the door. "I love you Ransom, and probably always will. But I love myself more than that and I can't let myself be hurt like that again." 

The words echoed off the hallway, ringing in his ears and sitting like a heavy weight on his chest. Your reached for the door, stopping suddenly as his voice reached back out, "Wait - I- fuck," he let out a shaky breath. "Don't leave. Not yet at least. Can we sit and talk over dinner? Please."

Taglist: (Slash through means unable to be tagged)   @sweetlittlegingy @star-spangled-steve @jessiejunebug @fresa-luna @thegirlwithpaperheart @jesaigne @introvertedmouse @sinner-as-saint @sp2900 @qrndevans @dammitcaswhy @livsheph @darcia22 @paranjaperiyauniverse @dramaticsassmaster​ @rose-k @lovemesomeavengers​ @steeeeverogers​ @hidden-behind-the-fourth-wall​ @bemysugarbean​ @dreamlesswonder86​ @ambrosixx​ @heyiamthatbitch​ @daazzeey​, @fresa-luna​ @bitchcraftandwitchery​ @thatoneslytherinbeater​ @breezyfreezey @quesadellacatburglar @renxzs​ @imsonick​ @sambucky8​ @honeybabybubba​

[zeldahime]

paradigm shift

in which qin su doesn’t get surprise incest married! ao3 link will be in the first reblog.

----

Qin Su thought she was going to be sick.

Her a-Niang had told her not to tell anyone, not her a-Die, not her betroathed. They would work together to find a reason to break off the match. They would lie. After all, it was Laoling Qin that stood to lose face if the truth came out, not Lanling Jin.

Besides, the monster of a man who sat on the Jin throne was not her father. He might be her father of blood, but he would never be the father of her heart. And now, he would never be the father of her husband, either.

(Or perhaps, if she was very unlucky, he would be. If it could happen to her mother, it could happen to any noble lady, and the truth would never be known.)

The problem with trying to work with her mother on this was that her a-Niang thought they had until the wedding day to break things off. That they had months, at least. That wasn't so; they had until a-Die delivered the dowry price in three days. Just three days to reverse course on a courtship she, herself, had initiated, without telling a-Die the truth or causing political tension with Lanling Jin. Without telling Jin Guangyao, who -- more than anyone -- deserved to know what caused her change of heart. He had been pushed aside so many times in his life, it was a small miracle that he had allowed her to press her suit at all. She didn't know if his poor battered heart could take yet another beating, and even if it could, she didn't want to be the one to deliver it.

Even as her mind spun, politics and family and the beginnings of plans flying through her thoughts, she paused as the worst of them came to her.

Knowing what she now knew, even hours later, she was still in love with Jin Guangyao.

How could she not be, after how he had saved her during the war, how he had treated her since -- but he was her brother. How could she still find his words romantic, even now? How could she find his face pleasing, even now as she looked in the mirror and saw the similarities in their rounded cheeks, in the shapes of their noses, in the straightness of their eyebrows? How could she still have a voice in her mind telling her to not drop the suit, to pretend to a-Die that everything was fine, to still see herself married to the man who had saved her life?

She would not. But she still wanted to.

And didn't that make her just as disgusting as the man who sat in that throne in Lanling.

***

It wasn't the best plan, but it was the one she had.

It was nearly impossible to speak to Guangyao alone in Koi Tower. Even when there were no gentry around, there were servants; even when there were no servants visible, they were passing through the hidden passages in the walls, running errands or listening for secrets. Qin Su had been taught from a very young age not to speak secrets in Koi Tower. The only place where she knew they would not be heard was in the private courtyard in the family wing, and even that, only if Madam Jin was distracted. Fortunately, Madam Jin and a-Niang were good friends; they were having tea, and Qin Su expected their evening tea to drag well into the night. She settled in to wait for Guangyao to finish his duties -- so many of them better relegated to servants, so many of them unbecoming of a legitimated child, much less the sect heir, as he now was -- and return to his rooms. She would be able to wave him down from her position, so long as he was looking up. If nothing else, he'd think she was an intruder.

As it happened, he did think she was an intruder -- she had a knife at her throat before she even noticed he was there, lost in thought as she was.

"A-Su?" he asked, his eyes round, as he drew back from her and sheathed his blade. "What are you doing here? I told you, we shouldn't have... we shouldn't do what you proposed in your letter yet. It's only a good idea after the bridal gifts are recieved; there's too many variables otherwise."

"Guangyao, I need to tell you something, but you have to promise you won't tell your father." She wouldn't have her a-Niang humiliated by him again, if she could help it.

"What is it, a-Su?"

"Promise."

"You know I can't do that." Concern flooded his voice, his face, as he looked at her. "A-Su, please, I can't promise you unless I know what it is. You know the sect has to come first."

She hesitated. She thought of a-Die, how it would crush him to learn of this from Sect Leader Jin and not from his own wife. She thought of a-Niang, and the humiliation she would face if it were repeated in front of her. Then she drew herself up.

"It is a matter that would greatly embarrass the Jin and Qin sects both if it were to come out, and I don't trust him, Guangyao. Your father would use it as a boast, even though it would hurt everyone including himself. Please."

He took her hand lightly in his own, and she hated how she still felt that rush, that spark, that joy in touching him.

"I won't tell him if I can help it, a-Su. What is it?"

It was as close a promise as she could get.

"My mother recently told me that-- that Qin Cangye is not my birth father." Guangyao looked at her uncomprehendingly; she closed her eyes. "My mother was attacked by Jin Guangshan, 20 years ago. Nine months before I was born." The hand that held hers tightened, so much it hurt. "Guangyao, I'm your sister."

She heard him swallow, and his breathing quicken. He squeezed almost tighter, then dropped her hand like it was made of burning metal, taking a step backward.

"A-Su," he whispered, "are you sure, are you sure that we're...." She nodded, eyes still closed. "A-Su, who else knows?"

"Just a-Niang and me," Qin Su replied as calmly as she could. "There were no other witnesses, and a-Niang only told me because of... because of us." She opened her eyes.

She had expected... revulsion, or horror, or pity, in her intended's face. In her brother's face. She hadn't expected to see pain and blinked-back tears. Of course she should have -- she knew how people left him, and now she was too --

She watched him school his features back into neutral, heard him force his breathing to even back out.

Dangerously neutral, he asked her, "A-Su, what do you want?"

She looked him dead in the eye. "I want help, Guangyao. I can't marry you, but I also can't embarrass Lanling Jin or Laoling Qin, and I don't want to embarrass you or myself."

"You know your father would call off the engagement in a heartbeat, a-Su. Tell him you had a change of heart. He'll say it's on account of my parentage, and you never have to see me again." His face was completely calm, his eyes held open just shy of a neutral position. His words were the truth, but his careful neutrality gave him away.

"Guangyao, you know why I don't want to do that--"

"A-Su. It's nothing I haven't heard before." He reached out as though to touch her cheek, before he retrieved his hand. She wished he hadn't. "I know what your father thinks of me. It doesn't matter."

She couldn't allow her anger to raise her voice. She had to hold her tongue, she had to-- fuck it. "Guangyao! It isn't you who should be shamed, it isn't a-Die, it isn't me, and it isn't a-Niang. It's Sect Leader Jin who caused this! If anyone should be shamed, should be embarrassed, it's him! And I know he'll face no consequences, but why should that mean you do? Guangyao, you can't take on his every sin! Why don't you mmbhbbmmm---"

Jin Guangyao wore a pained smile as he held his hand over her mouth. "I am, for once, the one with the least to lose, a-Su," he said, as she tried to continue talking. "I already am the son of a whore. You don't need to be. Have your father renounce me. Please." She licked his hand, and he immediately let her go.

"A-Su!"

"Guangyao."

He looked at his hand, then back at her, and pressed his lips together so thin that they disappeared. "Her reputation is all a woman has, a-Su. As your older brother, I demand you preserve yours."

He turned and went to his rooms, and Qin Su tried very hard not to cry.

***

The first time she saw Lan Xichen and Guangyao in the same room, she was immediately jealous. Guangyao had said he loved her, and she believed him, but he didn't love her the way he loved Sect Leader Lan. He looked at him with naked admiration, like he'd hung every star in the night sky; Sect Leader Lan grabbed his arms and smiled like Guangyao had personally delivered him the moon, wrapped in a bow.

It was strange to watch, honestly. It was like intruding on what should be a private moment, but they were a Sect Leader and a Sect Heir greeting each other formally in public.

She held herself steady as her father publicly announced the end of the suit, that the Jin and Qin were unable to come to a mutually beneficial agreement, but held no animosity. It was no secret that the real reason her father was dropping the suit was Guangyao's unacceptable parentage. What would he think, to know his beloved daughter wasn't his at all? That she was a product of the same actions he so despised Guangyao for?

There was a reason a-Niang had forbidden her to tell him.

She tried to purge that jealousy, she truly did. She knew she shouldn't still feel this way. It made her skin crawl, to know that almost a week after finding out the truth, she still hadn't mastered herself. She was still in love with her brother.

At least he wasn't in love with her.

***

It had been a while since she'd last seen Luo Qingyang.

Even before she'd left the Jin sect in protest over their treatment of the Wen prisoners, they hadn't been close. She'd been a disciple, after all, training in the field, while Qin Su had been a gentlelady with low cultivation, preparing for the day she'd marry a gentleman. Luo Qingyang spent her days getting caked in mud and blood and sweat; Qin Su spent hers bathed in perfumes and incense and soft silks.

When Luo Qingyang was rushed into the main hall of Laoling's White River Hall, absolutely drenched from the summer monsoon and pleading for the Qin Sect to send backup to a nearby village immediately, Qin Su almost didn't recognize her. With her rough, undyed castoffs, her hair falling out of a tightly-knotted bun, she seemed an entirely different person than the young cultivator who had stuck to Jin Zixuan's side like a burr.

Qin Su volunteered to go along as a medic; her father objected, of course, but did not stop her. She had the most extensive and recent experience in field medicine in the Qin Sect from her own time on the warfront of the Sunshot Campaign. It would be a waste not to use her.

It gave her time to simply observe, as Luo Qingyang directed a-Die's men as though they were her own. It was exactly like running a household, she realized, as Qin cultivators scattered and wove around each other, like servants in the kitchen or the laundry, each completing their tasks in a complex and circular dance as Lady Luo directed them from the center. The rhythm of purposeful, competant motion, the not-quite-twirling of bodies in motion avoiding each other, swords raised not unlike serving platters, talismans thrown in the same way cleansing spells and dust-repelling wards were.

It occurred to Qin Su that the martial aspect of running a sect might not be so far afield from her skill set after all.

When the monster was subdued, the rains had quieted, the fighters treated, and the sun as high in the sky, Lady Luo bowed to a-Die. Before she would thank him for his hospitality and leave, Qin Su interrupted her.

"It's been so long since I've last seen you. Won't you stay and catch up, for old time's sake?"

Perhaps her cousin inheriting the sect was not a foregone conclusion, after all.

***

Assassinating Sect Leader Jin should not have been so easy.

Jin Guangshan should have been able to recognize his friend's wife, all those years ago; he should have been able to recognize his own daughter, now.

Qin Su clearly did not inherit her brain from the Jin side of the family.

***

Sect Heir Qin took a deep breath as Sect Leader Wu stood, once again, to press his case against the watchtowers.

Chief Cultivator Jin's face was perfectly neutral at the head of the room, his hands folded perfectly. Never slipping, even as he listened to Sect Leader Wu once again insult his past, his heritage, his morality; even as Sect Leader Wu asserted he would never be the man his father had been.

That was the only truth to come out of his mouth. Jin Guangyao would never be the man father had been. That Qin Su was Sect Heir Qin, not Jin-furen, was proof. Her dear friend would never force himself on an unwilling woman, and would be -- was -- appalled whenever another sibling came to them with a tale that was always just like his own or just like hers. Jin Guangyao would never string a prostitute along with promises of gold and flowers and a future, only to leave her behind. Jin Guangyao would never rape someone. Her brother was a good man because of and in spite of his past, not a sullied one.

She made eye contact with Sect Leader Lan, whose smile has turned to stone and whose hands were concealed under his sleeves -- probably clenched so hard his knuckles have turned white, if she was any judge -- and rolled her eyes at exactly the same time Sect Leader Jiang did, mimicking his expression perfectly before replacing it with her own sweet smile. Sect Leader Lan's eyes softened slightly at the edges, which was practically a hearty chuckle from him, given they were in a meeting.

Her brother wanted them both to remain quiet against the Shouchun Wu, if they could stomach it; he was confident that despite Sect Leader Wu's blustering, he wouldn't really hurt Jin Rulan. He was confident that Wu's opposition was best opposed by the cool ice of performative apathy, overcoming the fire of his temper. Qin Su wasn't so sure, but she trusted Jin Guangyao's political instincts.

When Jin Ling ran into the room crying for his uncle midway through Sect Leader Wu's rant, his snarl turned into an ugly grin as he grabbed the hilt of his sword. Qin Su was the only person in the room still looking at him, the rest distracted by the upset child. He began to draw his sword, and she had the horrible realization he was about to do exactly what he had threatened to do: he would take Jin Guangyao's precious nephew away.

Three brush strokes and a vastly-improved throwing arm, and Sect Leader Wu was immobalized, his sword drawn and raised. His eyes were focused on little Jin Ling.

The Fragrant Palace erupted into chaos.

***

"He's made the same mistake we did, a-Su," Guangyao said to her, once the silencing talismans had been tested. The youngest brother they knew of, Mo Xuanyu, was only fifteen, and Guangyao had taken him in at Koi Tower. "Except he made it in public. A-Su, I had no choice but to cast him out of the sect."

Qin Su raised her eyebrows at him. "Did you truly have no choice, Guangyao?"

His face, so usually schooled into a polite smile, was drawn and pale; the delicate skin under his eyes was lightly purple, a sure sign of missed sleep and missed application of make-up.

"A-Su, it's incest. Even the Jin sect could not overlook it, especially from me. You know this better than anyone."

"But to send him home? Guangyao."

Her brother drew in a sharp breath. Qin Su waited for him to collect himself. It was a rarity, to see him so torn up; she doubted even Lan Xichen saw him like this. She hoped he would allow him to, eventually. Lan Xichen worried about him more when he hid his emotions, not less. She had told Guangyao so, many times. Lan Xichen would love the ugly parts of him as much as he did the beautiful. She did not remind him that she had, all those years ago; the pain of bringing up their father's faults would far outweigh that Jin Guangyao was someone who had been worthy of her picky, particular heart.

"I don't want to send him home, a-Su. I don't want to, but I can't see any other way out. He tried to kiss me in public."

"I'll take him, Guangyao. He's my brother too, even if I can't acknowledge him. From what you've told me, he'll make a good disciple in the Qin sect. He'll be a brilliant talismanic cultivator when we're through with him."

Relief suffused her brother's every feature as she reached out and squeezed his hand.

***

Sect Leader Qin had known right away that the young man was not He Jintao.

He Jintao had been an angry young man, and few could blame him. He had known full well who he was. His entire sect had been doomed the moment his brother had spoken against Jin Guangshan.

An urgent butterfly, a sister who already knew dark secrets, and some candy had been enough to save a child named He Jintao's life, but not anyone else's. Children were beneath Jin Guangshan's notice.

He Jintao had spent eight years in hiding as Qin Jintao, studying talismans, studying the sword, always so, so angry. Two years before, he'd bowed deeply to Qin Su and her father and defected, declaring he would become a rogue cultivator.

He had most certainly gone rogue, if he had done what Xuanyu thought he'd done.

"Did you see his arm when he lifted it, Lady Qin? That's not an ordinary curse mark, it's a tally. It's what the Yiling Patriarch thought would happen if someone used his body-switching array, the one that is supposed to trade you places with a spirit. It's powered by revenge resentment."

That He Jintao had become a demonic cultivator disappointed but did not surprise her. She just wanted to know who he had summoned, and why. Rumor abounded that Wei Wuxian, the Yiling Patriarch, was back; if he was, this would be how. She also suspected that she already knew the answer to the second half, the why -- to avenge the Tiangshe He. To kill Jin Guangyao.

She understood He Jintao's pain, his desire for revenge. She could not allow him to have it.

Jin Guangyao was her brother, her dear friend, who had saved her and trusted her. She would save him in return.

The young man who was not He Jintao and Hanguang-jun entered Guanyin Temple, and Qin Su followed closely behind.

The whole ordeal was rather more dramatic than it needed to be, honestly. Guangyao always had been prone to overreacting, when his emotions got ahead of his sense.

"Is he truly Wei Wuxian?" Qin Su asked Lan Xichen, who was watching Guangyao hold a garrotte to not-He Jintao's throat in pale shock.

"Yes."

"Good." She turned to Guangyao. "Put your string away and stop provoking him. The Yiling Patriarch never attacks unless he's backed into a corner, or have you forgotten? Let's go inside to have this conversation. And Jin Rulan, go find Fairy and go back to bed."

The revelations of the night were not surprising. The demonic cultivation he'd been forced to pursue while their father was alive was old news to her, having taken in Xuanyu; she knew Lan Xichen knew about the notes, but he seemed genuinely shocked that Guangyao had done more than simply decode Wei Wuxian's manuscripts. That he had planned to kill their father was so obvious to her that she was very nearly bored. She hadn't known Guangyao had killed Nie Mingjue, but the man had tried to kill him at least twice, and nearly succeeded when he'd pushed him down the stairs of Koi Tower; he'd still been injured when she'd come to visit on sect business a month later.

Why Sect Leader Su had brought Sect Leader Nie in with him instead of having servants take him back to his hotel was beyond her.

"Am I the only person here with any sense?" she demanded. "Hanguang-jun, you want to upend the cultivation world on behalf of a man who died a decade ago? Yiling Patriarch, you, of all people, are upset about demonic cultivation?"

Lan Xichen turned his betrayed look on her. They'd become good friends, over the years. It hurt to see him look at her like he'd never known her. She chose to ignore it.

"The six of us are going to walk back to the inn. We will go to our rooms. We will go to sleep or meditate until tomorrow morning. Then we will have a civil adult discussion that does not involve making poor choices in a temple at night in the rain. Is that clear?"

With Sect Leader Su, she lifted Sect Leader Nie. He was dead weight, but his breathing was not quite even, his heartrate too fast; he was conscious. She carried him anyway, just in case; her cultivation was not the strongest, but she had vastly improved since she was twenty and decided she ought to take it more seriously, if she were to run a cultivation sect.

When they arrived back at the inn, she waited just a moment after Sect Leader Su left Sect Leader Nie's room.

"If someone were to hurt someone I loved," she said slowly, "I think I would take the same path as you have, Sect Leader Nie." She listened to him breathe, waited for him to grasp the implication. "But he would not want me to, if it meant destroying the world he fought so hard to save. I didn't know Nie Mingjue well, but he always struck me as far more just than any Jin. Is it worth throwing away his legacy for a single man's death, Sect Leader Nie?"

She did not wait for him to answer as she slipped out the door.

***

When Qin Su rose and descended to the main room of the inn for breakfast, Lan Xichen was the only person there.

"Where are He Ji-- the Yiling Patriarch and your brother?"

Lan Xichen looked at her cooly. "I am uncertain, Sect Leader Qin. I find that I am certain of little, now."

They sat in uncomfortable silence.

"He saved the children," she said finally. "Guangyao always saved the children. He couldn't disobey Jin Guangshan, not directly, but he always sent the children to me. We wanted to have a house full of them, when we were young."

"And yet you broke off the engagement, and neither of you ever married," Lan Xichen said dully, like he was repeating something he had been told before.

"Yes. Did Guangyao ever tell you why?"

"He always said it was because of his parentage. That it was deemed unbecoming, for the lovely and eligible Lady Qin to marry one of his background. I assume," Lan Xichen said, finally looking at her, "that you are about to tell me that this was another lie."

Qin Su hated the pain in her friend's eyes. "I don't think he ever lied to you. He might not have told the whole truth, but he never lied to either of us. We did break off the engagement because of his parentage. Guangyao and I are siblings, Lan Xichen. Neither of us can marry, because there is no telling who else we might be related to. Our backgrounds are both unclean."

"Why are you telling me this, Sect Leader Qin?"

"Because Guangyao hides the good as much as he hides the bad. Because I know the Lan sect has secrets as well. Because I love my brother and want him to be happy, and he's always happiest when he's with you."

Lan Xichen looked up as Jin Guangyao came down the stairs, and Qin Su served herself more rice. They ate in painful silence.

***

MianMian was always an unexpected visitor, but a welcome one.

Qin Su had never had many friends, but her friendships ran deep. MianMian had helped her deepen her cultivation, corrected her sword forms, ran her to the ground and back up again. The martial aspects of sect leadership never did come easily to her, but having MianMian as a friend had helped enormously.

It also helped enormously to hear the gossip she and her husband had to share as the three of them sat down for tea, watching Little MianMian play in the flower garden.

"Auntie Su!" Little MianMian shrieked, running up to her with muddy hands clutching something writhing. "I got you a worm!"

"Thank you, darling," Qin Su said while the child's parents laughed behind her. "Let's put Mr. Worm back in the ground now." She hiked up the skirts of her outermost robe, kneeling in the soil together with Little MianMian. "Say bye-bye, Mr. Worm!"

"Bye-bye Mr. Worm!" Little MianMain repeated dutifully, and giggled when Qin Su pulled her in for a hug.

Xuanyu was inside, running sect business on her behalf, letting his reputation as an eccentric keep people from remembering his ears and eyes worked perfectly fine. Lan Xichen had begun to write to her again, rather than delegating his correspondence to the Laoling Qin to his brother; she hoped they were approaching normalcy. He had written that Hanguang-jun and Wei Wuxian would be visiting Koi Tower soon, and that they may need overnight accommodations in Laoling. They were, as always, welcome in White River Hall, and she had written back to assure him that this was the case. Jin Guangyao and Jin Rulan were as safe as they could be, given they lived in the ever-precarious snake pit that was the Jin court at Koi Tower. Nie Huaisang had backed off a bit, once he realized she was onto him.

She hoped it was fear or shame that stopped him. She knew it was more likely practicality.

For the moment however, her friends were all safe, her brothers accounted for. The sun was shining, the flowers blooming, and she was hugging a child in a world that was safer than the one she was born into.

Qin Su was happy.

[quicksilversquared]

The Wavering Peahen: Chapter 5

When Nathalie started feeling oddly ill again, both she and Gabriel were worried that the Peacock Miraculous might somehow (impossibly) be to blame again.

So naturally, they pick someone else to be the Peacock for a bit. You know, as a test subject. Except the new Peacock… doesn’t exactly know that.

links in the reblog

"Oh my god, you guys, you'll never guess what my mom did for me!" Lila announced as she arrived at the picnic just a little bit on the late side and, other than her phone and a hastily-made Thermos of tea, completely empty-handed. If anyone asked, she would just claim that she had meant to make something, but she had overslept and not been able to start early enough to pull off what she had intended. "It was so sweet of her!"

Heads turned her way, and several of the other girls stepped closer like they were being drawn by a string. Rose was the first to speak up.

"What did she do, Lila?"

"She brought my old phone to a specialist so they could recover some of my old photos off of it- it got destroyed during one of my mission trips to South America and I lost all sorts of data!" Lila practically wilted at the 'memory'. "Thankfully my contacts were backed up in the cloud, but I lost all of my photos! All of those memories, gone! I thought that there was no way to get them back!"

Rose gasped in excitement. "But she got them recovered! That's so great!"

"Some were lost for good- most of them, actually. But I got some back and now they're on my phone and on the cloud, just in case." Lila glanced around. "I don't know if- would anyone like to see them, maybe?"

Rose nodded at once, practically teleporting to Lila's side in her eagerness to see. Alya wasn't far behind, and then Mylène and Nino came behind her. Lila beamed, pulling out her phone and swiping to open up her photos. She had stuck in some landscape photos that she had snagged online to mix it up so that not all of her photos were shots of her and famous people, but obviously the celeb shots were the star of the show.

"Oh, that's Prince Ali!" Rose said happily, half-hanging over Lila's arm to see the phone screen better. "You two definitely look close!"

"Yes, well, we've worked with each other several times," Lila told her. "So of course we're close! I took this picture maybe a year and a half ago? I was at his castle for two weeks while discussing all of the different types of charity work we were doing and ideas for going forward. It was lovely there, really. The beds were so comfortable, and the food was amazing!"

There was a chorus of 'that's so cool!'s and 'you're so lucky!'s. Lila beamed, happy with the attention, and dove into her prepared story, tying in a few of the few of stories that she had told before. More of their classmates gathered around, trying to get a glimpse of her phone. Lila held it up to show the photos off as she went, ever-thoughtful. One story turned into two, then ten, then a dozen as she flipped through the photos. It was a lot- normally she just did one story at a time, peppering them in where they were relevant- but she had been too sick to come up with many stories recently and of course the photos provided a perfect opportunity do a bit of talking.

(Maybe it was a bit too much talking, considering that she was still recovering from her illness and her throat was already sore and she was still feeling a bit faint every so often, but she was on a roll and needed to press her advantage while she had it. These photos were gold, and she needed to milk them for all they were worth.)

"Oh, those shots of you and Ladybug are great!" Alya exclaimed once Lila swiped to the first of the Ladybug pictures. Even though it was just a Ladybug look-alike, Lila had found herself gritting her teeth as she forced herself to cozy up to the sentimonster's side. She hadn't given in to the urge to punch the sentimonster in the face, just as a bit of stress relief, but that had less to do with being nice and more to do with her being worried that she was going to lose control of the sentimonster and have it turn on her. "Those must have been pretty recent, right? Were they on your old phone, too?"

"Ah- no, those were just from yesterday afternoon," Lila fibbed quickly, trying not to cringe. She probably should have held off of putting the Ladybug pictures on her phone- those would always be relevant, she could show them off some other time if she ever hit a lull in attention- but it was too late for that now. Maybe she could get a couple more posters and do another sentimonster session before Hawkmoth took the Miraculous back so that she would have more photo evidence in the future. "She was out on a run and saw me when I was on a walk to try to brainstorm ideas to help the global anti-pollution initiative with Prince Ali. Since we're friends, she decided to drop down and say hi! It was so nice of her."

"She must have been keeping a low profile," Alya commented, leaning in closer. "I didn't get any reports of superhero spottings yesterday, but I know they've been out before without people noticing! Did she help come up with any ideas?"

"No, she wanted to get going again before she got noticed and mobbed," Lila told her. "Which is understandable! She said she would think it over and get back to me if she came up with anything."

Alya nodded. "Yeah, that makes sense. I'm sure she'll come up with something, though! Considering how creative she is with Lucky Charms, I bet that she'll think up something cool."

Lila tried not to let her smile get too strained as she faked her enthusiasm. "Yeah! I mean, if it's anything too out there, it might be hard to get people on board, but some out of the box ideas might just be what the world needs!"

"Would you mind sharing those photos on the Ladyblog?" Alya asked eagerly. "I always love adding good pictures of the superheroes, and those are fantastic."

Trying not to smile too obviously, Lila nodded. "Of course! That's fine." Honestly, the more people who saw it, the better. That way, if Ladybug decided to be a brat again and tried to call Lila out, it would be far easier for Lila to claim that they had had a falling out and Ladybug was being an asshole about it and for that to actually be believed. "I'll send the photos to you right away, actually, before I forget."

Alya grinned, whipping out her phone eagerly. "Great! Lemme just- ah, I should probably think of an actual article or something to go along with the photos, huh? Uh- maybe something about how Ladybug isn't just saving the world from evil, but also from pollution? Obviously I'd say that you're the one doing most of the pollution work," she added hastily to Lila. "Or two superheroines- one saving the world from supervillains, the other saving the world from pollution? I like that better! And then I'll just mention the crossover, her helping you come up with ideas and you helping her behind the scenes with akuma attacks sometimes!"

Lila nodded, attaching the photos to an email and sending it off to Alya. "That sounds good! And if you want any more details, just ask!"

"I will, trust me!"

Ten minutes later, Lila's audience started getting restless, clearly done with story time. She wrapped up quickly, claiming that she didn't want to take up everyone's time and monopolize the attention and promising to show off the remainder of the photos at school. Some people stuck around to ask a few questions, but others wandered off. Lila wasn't bothered. After all, the stories would get around eventually.

Eventually, Lila got to step away to peruse the picnic table. She didn't pick anything up since she still wasn't feeling 100% after her earlier dizzy spell, and getting nauseous and barfing would bring her a sort of attention that she didn't want, but it was a nice break from remembering all of her stories and playing her part.

The food spread looked pretty good- though Lila wrinkled her nose at an array of baked goods that had clearly come from Marinette's family's bakery- and she made a note of a few things that she wanted to try later, when she felt better. With one more glance around, Lila stepped away from the table and back towards the rest of her classmates. As she did, she nearly bumped into Marinette. The other girl's eyes narrowed at her but she didn't say anything, opting to simply walk past Lila instead.

Well. That wouldn't do.

"You missed out on seeing my pictures earlier," Lila said, raising her voice just enough that Marinette wouldn't be able to miss it. "Which is a pity, really. There were some really nice ones that my mom recovered off of my old phone. If you wanted, I could still show you a couple."

Marinette snorted. "So you've taken up Photoshop as a hobby, I take it?" she asked dryly. "And I think I'll pass on looking at the photos. If I wanted to see something that wasn't real, I'd go watch an action hero movie. That would at least be enjoyable."

Lila sniffed. "You're just so certain that they're doctored. Do you know how jealous that makes you sound? It's not a very attractive look on you at all."

"Puh-leeze. There was a photo of me and Jagged Stone on the cover of Metal Lord not even a year ago, and I've got actual selfies of me and Clara Nightingale on my phone from when she was doing her music video. I don't need Photoshop." Marinette rolled her eyes, stepping further away from Lila. "Some of us actually have the connections that you pretend to have. If anyone is jealous, it's you."

With that, she turned and left, heading across the park to join Alya and Nino and Adrien. Alya was still hunched over her phone- no doubt hastily getting a rough draft of her article done- but the others were just chatting and relaxing. The fact that Adrien was still clearly on Marinette's side was really annoying, but soon enough he wouldn't be. Not once Lila took some video of the senti-Marinette being a brat. Because it would take video to persuade him, she knew that. Photos wouldn't be enough, not when he was already suspicious of her. She would probably have to wait a week or so to actually show anyone the video, space things out to make them more believable-

Lila's breath caught in her throat as another dizzy spell washed over her. All of a sudden, she wasn't so positive that it was a good idea to come out today. She had just been recovering from a decently long sickness, and then she got up super early and had been pushing herself all day. Yeah, it had been nice to show off her photos right away, but maybe it would have been smarter to wait until Monday. Lila could have ridden out her dizzy spells at home, both the major ones and the smaller ones that had been plaguing her while she showed off her photos.

...maybe she could just sit down and she would be fine?

"Lila! Over here!" Rose called, almost as though she was reading Lila's mind. She waved and patted the bench next to her. "Max was about to start telling us about the changes he made to his game!"

Lila nearly groaned at the thought. Listening to Max meant listening to stats and graphics and coding nonsense that she really couldn't care less about. She avoided it when she could. But it also meant that she wouldn't have to talk, and if she tuned out and missed something and got asked about it, she could just claim that she had gotten lost on all of the technical details.

So really, it was practically perfect.

"What kinds of changes?" Lila asked, walking over and sitting on the fee bit of bench. "New villains?"

Max nodded, pushing his glasses back up on his nose. "That is some of it, yes. Having an ever-expanding cast of characters keeps it interesting and a challenge for those who have already played a lot and know how to defeat their opponents. There were some complaints that there were then too many rounds between the start and the boss villain, so I now have an option for people to select the number of akumas that they want to battle and which akumas they get is randomized. I also have added difficulty levels, for those wanting to deviate from the standard game. After examining the akuma stats, I have identified some that are more or less challenging than average and so the non-normal difficulty selections have a more limited pool of opponents to choose from. I also added Mayura to the game. I considered putting in Pavona, too, but..."

"She could be the boss villain for easy mode," Rose suggested. "Since she's not as good of a fighter as Hawkmoth!"

Max considered that, nodding absently. "Yes, I could see that. I have different coding for different fight levels already, so I could use the one I developed for the lowest akumas."

"The lowest akumas?" Lila asked, incredulous. "She- surely she's better than the lowest akumas, right? When she was out, she wasn't exactly just getting tossed to the side."

There was a long pause. Lila blinked, looking around.

Surely everyone could admit that Pavona wasn't completely useless on the battlefield, right? They had eyes, even if they were ridiculously biased towards the superheroes. There had been times when Pavona had been more than holding her own.

(Well. Times when she hadn't been failing spectacularly, at least, and mostly because the heroes were outnumbered, but she was choosing to ignore that.)

"I mean, I guess she's a better fighter than that giant baby," Alix offered after a long moment. "Not that that's hard, exactly. But as far as game context goes, it doesn't really make sense for the final boss to be as easy or easier than the akumas that came before it."

Max nodded, jotting that down. "That's a good point! I might make her a slight bit more of a threat than she actually is in real life, just for the game's sake. Though she does have the sentimonster thing going for her- maybe I can keep her fight level the same, but just have a couple different sentimonsters that she'll get paired with. That'll be the bit making the boss battle harder."

"That was a good point about how Pavona shouldn't be easier than the akumas in the game, Lila!" Rose chirped, beaming at her. "That'll definitely help improve the game!"

"Yeah, no problem," Lila managed, hoping that she didn't sound like she was talking through gritted teeth. She steadied herself against the table as her vision blurred out again for a moment, her mind going dizzy with it. "I'm always happy to help!"

"I think the problem that I'm facing then is coding so that Pavona and the sentimonster work together," Max said, tapping his pencil against the spine of his notebook. "And the same for the challenge mode, I think. It would have Hawkmoth and Mayura as the final boss, and they would work together. For that, some of the later levels could have randomized akuma-sentimonster pairings!"

"Ooh, good idea!"

"Nice!"

Lila tuned out as the conversation wandered off into more details of the game, improvements that could be made to the akuma powers to make them more flexible and not so fixed. Max eventually wandered off into a discussion- or a monologue, really, even while checked out Lila couldn't help but note that no one else was contributing much anything to the discussion- about coding specifics, and Lila tried not to sigh.

Boring. Boring, boring, boring.

  Even after sitting and relaxing for nearly half an hour, Lila still had absolutely no appetite. In fact, the mere thought of eating much anything was making her feel a bit ill, which was a bit concerning.

And yet she found herself staring down at a full plate of food in her lap.

To her own credit, she had tried to get out of eating anything, claiming that she had woken up late and eaten breakfast late and therefore didn't have an appetite, and besides her mom hadn't remembered to buy the things she needed to make something to bring and she would feel bad about taking food when she hadn't brought any. But her classmates had insisted that it was fine, that no one blamed her for not being able to bring anything, and that really, couldn't she eat just a little? So Lila had been pretty much forced to relent and load up her plate.

Maybe she could have let on that she had a bit of lingering nausea from her illness, but she had (for once) not wanted any more attention on her. She had been completely in charge of the narrative earlier, keeping the focus and gossip on what she wanted her classmates to pay attention to, and having the talk about her turn from her celebrity connections to her mysterious illness would be not exactly ideal. An illness could push the focus on her proof to the backs of their minds, easily forgotten about given some time, and she was not about to let a little cold do that.

Lila was made of stronger stuff than that, she knew she was. After all, she was a supervillain. Things weren't going to be easy.

But it was still frustrating that the challenge was coming from something as everyday as a stupid cold.

(She should have just left it at I ate breakfast late and so I'm not very hungry and then maybe she could have gotten away with just taking a little fruit and nothing else. The comment about not having brought anything, in retrospect, made the breakfast thing sound like a flimsy excuse for not eating.)

Hopefully she would feel better again soon. It was just so stupid that she had been feeling so great, and then all of a sudden, she was feeling worse than she had before. Sure, she had been able to milk her cold for all it was worth as far as homework went, but much longer and the teachers wouldn't turn a blind eye to that anymore. And sure, she had gotten out of actually doing anything in gym while she was sick, but she could do that just as easily with a claim that her arthritis was acting up or that she had rolled her ankle the previous day.

(There was also the issue of what she could possibly do if someone brought concerns to their teachers and they insisted on calling Lila's mom. She couldn't let that happen, or else all of her hard work would be for nothing.

Maybe she could spread the lie that her mom was already on top of it and taking her in to the doctor's office for a checkup. If the teachers knew that Mrs. Rossi was already aware of Lila's health problem, then perhaps they would be less inclined to reach out as well.)

"Aren't you hungry, Lila?" Rose asked anxiously, and Lila startled out of her thoughts. She had been staring at her plate without eating anything for too long, clearly. "You've just been pushing your food around and not eating anything."

"Ah, well, I did have a late breakfast," Lila managed, doing her best to make her excuses sound confident, even as another wave of dizziness passed over her. Was it just her imagination, or were they getting more frequent? "I must have eaten more than I thought then, so I'm not very hungry yet. I- maybe I'll just set my plate away to eat later. I just couldn't resist taking some food, it all looked so good."

"Oh, okay," Rose agreed after a moment's pause. "It's too bad we don't have a heating lamp or something to keep the food warm and fresh for you! Some of it won't be as good cold."

Lila flashed her a smile. "Thanks for the concern, but I'm sure it will still be good! And if not- well, the next time we have a picnic, I'll be sure to wake up earlier or not eat as much breakfast."

"We'll have to do this again soon, then!"

Lila smiled and nodded. "That sounds fun! It'll be a good way to keep up with everyone over the summer- well, at least if I'm still in the country and not traveling. I don't know what my mom's plans are yet."

Everyone nodded, letting out little murmurs of understanding.

"Hopefully you'll get to go some cool places!" Mylène piped up. "I mean, I hope you'll be around for part of the summer so that you can go on all of the group activities like picnics and pool trips, but I know how important it is for you to get to travel and meet people who can help out with your charities and environmental work and everything!"

Lila forced another smile in the direction where- well, she could mostly see Mylène between the spots that had momentarily taken over her vision. She blinked, and her vision cleared. "Yeah, it would be nice to get to hang out and be a normal kid for a bit, but I also want to see some of my friends from other places in person again! I've been keeping in touch by email and video call, of course, but it's just not the same."

"The downside to traveling," Mylène agreed. "I've made friends while traveling before- average people, not princes and whatnot- but I never end up staying in touch with them for that long once I leave. Our emails just end up tapering off."

Several of the others nodded in agreement. Lila almost did, too- after all, she always let communications with her former classmates taper off and end after a few months after she had to move or switch schools- before she caught herself.

Right. No talking about her real life experiences, or else people would start picking up on the inconsistencies and the ways that Lila's real life didn't line up with the other stories that she had told.

The conversation slowly turned to the kinds of friendships other people had made while on vacation with their families and how long they kept communicating once they had left, and Lila tuned it out in favor of trying to force down a few bites of food. There were a couple things that weren't overly sweet or spicy that didn't make her stomach want to completely turn itself inside out, so Lila nibbled on them while she pretended to listen to her classmates blather on about completely non-impressive people who they had met.

"Lila, if you aren't hungry yet, you don't have to eat," Rose said suddenly, cutting herself off mid-sentence. She glanced over at the picnic table, then perked up. "Hey, the container I brought my salad in is empty! You could just put your food in that and bring it home to eat later if you wanted!"

"That's so kind of you, Rose!" Lila managed. Ugh, forcing herself to eat anything had clearly been a bad choice. She had thought that she would be able to handle a few bites, but she was feeling more nauseous than ever. She didn't want to let that on, though. She wouldn't. She couldn't distract from her own stories and photos by being ill. "That sounds like a great idea. I don't want the food I took to have to go to waste. I-" she cut herself off as her stomach rolled again.

Maybe talking right now wasn't the best idea.

"Let's go get it, then!" Rose chirped, popping up out of her seat. "And you can grab anything you want to eat later from the table, too, while we're doing that. I know no one's going to mind if you take stuff to go!"

Lila pushed herself to her feet to follow Rose, doing her best to act as though everything was normal as she swung her legs over the bench and started walking. Her vision had almost completely fuzzed out as soon as she got up, but she couldn't let that stop her. It would clear up soon enough, after all. It always had before.

She took one step, then another, then a third, forcing them even and casual. On the fourth, Lila felt herself wobble, suddenly both dizzy and weak.

And on the fifth step, everything went black.

[winchest09]

Yesterday.

Title: Yesterday

Pairing: Dean Winchester x reader

Word Count: 3000

Summary: Yesterday, everything was how it should be. Yesterday, Dean was in his happy place. Yesterday, everything changed. 

Rating: 15

Warnings: Fluff, angst, all the angst, SPOILER, death, regrets, drama, accident. 

A/N: So this is my entry for @deanwanddamons​ 500 follower challenge! Congratulations babe once again! My prompt was “And you’re the place my life begins and you’ll be where it ends” this line is included in this fic. :) 

A/N 2: This also took a different turn to what I expected it to be and I sincerely  hope you enjoy it. 

*** Any mistakes are my own, my darling beta is feeling under the weather (Feel better babe!) Please do not repost my work anywhere however reblogs are fine and welcome :) I’ll give you a virtual hug if you did!

***

Main Masterlist

Let me know what you think!

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Yesterday, everything was how it should be. A fancy hotel room, a plush queen sized bed lined with eygption cotton sheets and his girl all curled up in his arms. He’d woken at the same time that he always did when she was laying next to him. Just in time to see the sunrise shine beautifully across Y/N’s face, highlighting her delicate features perfectly. For Dean, this was a sight that would always be his favourite. A sight that he was lucky enough to see every day when he awoke next to her. A sight that he would remember for the rest of his life. 

He took a deep, soft breath as he allowed his eyes to scan over Y/N’s face. He didn’t want to miss a single detail. From the way her lashes dusted across her cheeks as she slept to the way her lips looked as soft as a petal. He adored how her hair would fall gently over her eyes, giving him the perfect opportunity to reach out and brush it behind her ear. He loved the soft noises that would escape her lips as she moved around in slumber. He loved every single damn thing. 

He smiled gently when she moved closer towards him, her body subconsciously seeking him out and only resting when her hands came into contact with his chest. His smile grew wider as he leaned over her slightly, dipping down to bring his lips to her neck softly, his few day old stubble grazing her skin as she started to stir beneath him. 

He felt how her hands slowly came up to caress his bare back, her fingertips grazing his skin up and down as she allowed a contented sigh to pass her lips. Her eyes were still closed when Dean started to travel his kisses. He moved from her neck to the edge of her jaw, rolling himself over on top of her whilst supporting his weight with his forearms. He worked his way down to her chest, peppering kisses across her smooth skin as he travelled lower down her body, the cotton sheet draped over him. He heard how she sucked in a sharp breath as his mouth worshipped her, his lips stopping just shy of her navel to allow a wicked grin to spread across his face. 

Without warning, Dean sucked in a deep breath and blew the biggest and wettest raspberry on Y/N’s stomach. The shriek that left her mouth made him grin and brace for what was to come; her laughter. It filled his soul with such joy whenever she laughed, the sound was his favourite thing to listen too. She threw the sheet off of his back, her wide joyful eyes staring down at him as she tried to fight him playfully off of her. Skillfully, he worked his way back up her body, his fingers dancing along her ribs as he tickled her mercissly. Her laughter, her smiles, her beauty...

This was his happy place. 

-

Yesterday, Dean had stepped out of line. He’d hurt Y/N with his words, not intentionally, he’d never intentionally hurt her but he had ruined their joyus morning by allowing his own fears to drive his thoughts. After enjoying breakfast in bed, literally and figuratively, they had begun to pack their bags ready for the short drive back to reality. Y/N, being the switched on and dedicated hunter that she was, began to check her phone for anything that remotely seemed interesting to them in the surrounding area. She was always trying her best to help somebody, always wanting to do the best for people, always putting them first even if it meant putting her life on the line. She was selfless.

With her phone in hand, Dean watched from the edge of the bed as she bit gently down on her thumb nail, a sign that she was reading something interesting. He swallowed the fear that started to creep up from his gut, instead he tried to focus on packing the rest of his clothes back into his duffel. 

“Hey, there’s a case not too far from here. Sounds like ghouls,” Y/N announced, spinning on her feet to turn to look at him, “want to check it out?” she asked, a hopeful look on her face. 

“We’ll call one of the other hunters, set them on it,” he answered quickly, his focus not leaving the duffel in front of him as he placed it on his lap. He couldn’t handle seeing the dejected look on her face that he knew he’d put there. 

“But this is on our way back to the bunker,” she started, walking closer towards him to show him the article on her phone. “We could drop in, handle it and be home in 48 hours,” she continued but Dean just gently shook his head, refusing to look at the phone. 

“And there could be a hunter closer to it than us,” he countered, standing from the bed before he turned and zipped the duffel closed. He heard how she let out a little frustrated huff and he prepared himself for what was to come next, her inevitable argument in which she tries to convince him. 

“Come on, Dean. We’ve not been on a hunt, just me and you, in forever,” she said in a saddened tone, her phone sliding into the back of her jeans pocket as her eyes never left his.

“I said no, Y/N,”  he affirmed, turning around to face her. His tone was sharper than he had intended so he didn’t miss the small flinch she gave when his words hit her; they had definitely stung. 

She shook her head, a tiny frown creasing at her brow as she studied him for a slight moment, her eyes flicking between his. 

“What is with you lately?” she questioned, crossing her arms across her chest as she began to guard herself. Dean just shrugged, his shoulders shaking in a nonchalant manner to try and indicate that nothing was wrong. But Y/N wasn’t that dumb to fall for it and he knew it. “No, it’s something. Come to think of it, since we’ve been this,” she gestures back and forth from herself and Dean with her hand, “we’ve not been on one single hunt. It’s just been research and sending out other hunters to the jobs that I could easily do,” she recalled, her eyes boring up into his as she waited for his answer. 

“I think you’re overthinking it,” Dean blew her off, waving a hand around as he walked towards the bathroom. 

“No, I think there’s an issue here somewhere,” she stated, following him, her arms now loose at her sides. “Do you not want to hunt with me anymore?” she questioned him causing him to stop in his tracks. He turned to look at her, taking a moment to study her face as he swallowed hard. He didn’t have to give her his answer, the way her face fell and eyes watered told him she already knew. “Oh my god, you don’t want me to hunt anymore,” she whispered, her hand coming up to run through her hair. 

Dean panicked slightly, it wasn’t that he didn’t want to hunt with her anymore. It was that he didn’t want her to end up hurt or worse. He’d finally got a good thing in his life, and he wanted to cherish that until he couldn’t cherish it anymore. 

“We’ve got a bunker full of hunters, does it really matter if one of us is out the game? That one of us can have a chance at normal?” he voiced back at Y/N, stepping one foot closer to her as he tried to reach for her hands but she just pulled back, a tear threatening to fall down her cheek.

“Oh but it’s ok for you to continue to hunt?” she fired at Dean. 

“I’ve been doing this longer than you,” he countered, hoping his point would stand. 

“So?” she spat, the frown in her brow deepening as her hands came to her hips. 

“So, I know what’s best in this situation, feelings make you sloppy.” The words left his mouth before he could think. His green eyes went wide and the broken look written on her face made him feel sick to his stomach. 

“So, i’m sloppy now, is that it? Just because I’ve fallen into a bed with you?” she whispered, hurt lacing her words as they quavered slightly, her arms loosening at her sides. 

“No, Y/N,” he breathed, instantly regretting what he’d said. “Come on, I didn’t mean it like that and you know it.” He tried reaching for her once more but she pulled back, not wanting his comfort.  

“Here’s what I know,” she started, holding a finger in the air as her glassy Y/E/C eyes stared him down. “I know that I'm good at what I do. I know that I can hit a moving target with a kill shot, I know i’ve saved your ass more times than I can count and I know that I definitely don’t want a boyfriend who controls what I can and cannot do,” she barked, her voice strong as she backed off even more to grab at her bag from her side of the bed. 

“Y/N-” 

“Just don’t,” she interrupted him, storming past Dean as fast as she could with her bag in hand as she left the room, slamming the door as she went. 

He flinched at the sound, collapsing back down onto the mattress with his head in his hands as he thought over what had just happened. The perfect morning had been ruined because he wanted to keep her safe. 

-

Yesterday, he was driving 80mph down a highway, tears tickled his cheeks as he pushed the accelerator to the floor. He shouldn’t have let Y/N walk out of that room, he shouldn’t have let her out of his sight but his stubbornness prevented his feet from following her. He should have chased her down and told her that he was an idiot and that of course he wanted to hunt with her. He’d do anything he could to protect her. He should have protected her. 

 Dean slammed his way through the hospital doors, the metal bouncing off the walls due to the force of his entry. His panicked eyes were scanning everything in the room, looking for a sign to take him to reception, looking for the sign that would take him to her. He moved as fast as his legs would carry him, colliding himself with the desk causing the receptionist to jump back slightly in shock. He spoke quickly, reeling off Y/N’s name as his fingers gripped the edge of the desk, his knuckles going white. 

As soon as he was told that she was in ICU, he drowned out the rest of her words as he turned to rush towards the stairs. He took them two, three at a time, his hand gripping the railings to give him the extra pull he needed to allow him to get to her that little bit quicker. However, he wasn’t prepared for the sight he was about to see, the sight that would cripple him and take all air from his lungs. 

She lay in her hospital bed, her arms either side of her frame, her legs straight; unmoving. Her head was bandaged, bruising covering the side of her face, her mouth slightly agape due to the breathing apparatus that was assisting her. Her perfect petal like lips were cut and grazed, the hair that was loose from the bandage was matted with blood. A wave of nausea washed over him, this was his fault. This was all his fault. 

“Excuse me, Sir?” a deep voice sounded next to him. It took Dean a moment for him to realise that someone was trying to talk to him but as he turned his head to the side, he noticed the doctor that was standing next to him with a clipboard. “Are you immediate family to Miss Y/L/N?” 

“She’s...she’s my fiance,” he lied, thinking quickly on the spot. It wasn’t a complete lie, the thought had crossed his mind on more than one occasion.  “W-what’s happened? She’s going to be ok right?” he stammered, his head flicking from the doctor to motionless Y/N on her bed. Taking a deep breath, the doctor pulled him to one side, away from the room's window. 

“Sir, Miss Y/L/N was in a very serious accident. She’s suffered multiple fractures, a collapsed lung and a significant bleed on the brain,” he explained, looking down at his clipboard before looking back up to see a crestfallen Dean. 

“But she’s going to be ok,” Dean quavered, staring down the doctor who didn’t reply to him straight away, “tell me she’s going to be ok?!” he panicked, his voice rising. 

“The prognosis of this...it’s not good,” the doctor admitted softly, offering a sincere look to the eldest Winchester. “We’ve done all we can to make her comfortable but-”

“No,” Dean cut him off, his hands grabbing at his hair before he pointed at her room, his eyes glassy. “No, you need to fix this, she doesn’t deserve this!”

“Sir, I promise you we’ve done all we can,” the doctor told him before looking over at her room himself. “I’ll leave you two alone, i’ll be just down the corridor if you need me.”

All Dean could do was nod, rolling his bottom lip between his teeth as he built up the courage to walk through the door to her. He roughly wiped at the stray tears that were resting on his cheeks before he took a deep breath and entered her room. All that could be heard was the sound of the ventilator and the heart monitor beeping in the silence, the indicator that she was still with him. 

“Hey, baby,” he greeted, his voice slightly shaky as he shut the door behind him. “Now’s not the time to be sleeping you know? We’ve got everyone waiting on us back at the bunker,” he half chuckled, his nose sniffling as he took a seat next to Y/N’s bed. He couldn’t look directly at her just yet, the sight of her injuries were too much for him in that moment. Instead, he reached for her hand, his thumb caressing the few scrapes she had over her knuckles. A quick bleep from his pocket pulled his attention away from her for just a moment as he reached down to pull out his phone. 

“That’s Sam, he’s on his way to see you. You gotta wake up before he gets here otherwise he’ll be torturing you by reading lore books to you,” he croaked, his hand coming back to slip into hers. “You’ve got to prove all of these docs wrong.” His request was met with more silence, he watched for the slightest bit of movement, a twitch, a smile but there was nothing. His heart was becoming heavy, the regret of that afternoon was becoming too much for him to bear. 

“I should have followed you out that door, I should have stopped you from leaving. We should have just gone on that damn hunt, if we had, this...you...it wouldn’t have happened,” he choked out, one hand coming to wipe the tears from his face as he laid eyes on her. It should be him in that bed, not her. He brought Y/N’s hand to his lips before he gently kissed her knuckles, holding her hand close to the stubble on his cheek. 

"Hey, remember that time we went out in the middle of the night because you wanted to look up at the stars? I thought you were insane, it was freezing out. But you grabbed a couple of blankets, made some hot chocolate and we were out within the hour," he recalled, a small smile stretching the corner of his lips at the memory. "I’ll tell you a secret. That was the night I fell hard, the night I looked over and saw your smile under the stars." Dean took a deep breath, squeezing his eyes shut tightly as he went over the moment in his mind. "We stayed there talking until you had the idea to go and get a tattoo of a star to remember that moment," he breathed. "To this day no one else knows about that tattoo and that’s what i love, those little things that only i know, those little things that make you mine.”

He couldn’t help the sob that escaped his lips, his tears falling onto your entwined hands. He needed her to wake up, he needed her to be kicking his ass for leaving his pants on the floor or not putting his dishes in the sink. He needed his Y/N back. 

“If you can hear me, I need you to know that...I need you to know you’re it. Y/N, you’re it for me. You're the place my life begins and you're the place it ends," he wept, "there ain't no me if there ain't no you." He sniffed as he finally allowed his tears to fall freely, not wiping them away or intercepting them as he stood to lean over her, attempting to brush some of the stray bloody hairs out of her beautiful face. " I need you to stay with me, Y/N," he whispered as he looked down upon her. 

With her hand still in his, he swallowed hard as his eyes scanned over every single detail of her features once again. He’d give anything to kiss those lips, to hear her laugh just one more time. All he could do was hope, hope that she had heard his words, hope that she would pull through against all the odds. Shakily, he slowly leaned down and placed a long, soft kiss to her forehead. He poured all of his feelings into that kiss, wishing he could pass on his strength to her. Upon removing his lips, he replaced them with his own forehead, resting it against hers as he willed himself to speak the words he’d never had the courage to say. 

“I love you.” 

The steady beat of the heart monitor blurred into one long constant sound. It took a moment for Dean to register what was happening. He pulled his head off hers quickly as he looked at the monitor next to him. Y/N had flatlined. 

His whole world appeared to slow down, the doctors that were rushing in around him felt like they were going in slow motion. He was being pulled back and out of the room, not realising that he was screaming her name at the top of his lungs, his throat hoarse from his cries. He watched on desperately as the medical staff worked tirelessly to save her. He watched as they performed CPR. He watched as she slipped away from him. His green eyes were trained on the doctor that had stopped the chest compressions, the doctor that stood back to look at his watch, the doctor that called it. 

“Time of death, 11.52pm.” 

-

Yesterday, Y/N got knocked over by someone who was doing double the speed limit as she stepped out into the road. In that split moment, Dean’s life had been changed forever. He was so scared of losing her to the supernatural world that he’d forgotten about the dangers of normality. Now here he was, minutes after midnight the next day, on his knees outside of her room, tears streaming down his cheeks as his mind tried to process what had just happened as his eyes stayed focused on her bed. He hadn’t realised that Sam was by his side, his mouth moving frantically with worry, but no words were being heard by Dean. 

Yesterday morning, he was in his happy place, his arms wrapped tightly around her. Yesterday afternoon, he made the wrong decision and he had to watch her walk out of the door and unknowingly, out of his life. 

Yesterday came suddenly. 

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A/N: I hope you’ve enjoyed this little one shot! Please let me know your thoughts by comment, reblog or just HERE! :)

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[fandom-collective-writers]

Man (Seth Hyde x Reader)

Fandom: Ikemen Revolution

Pairing: Seth Hyde x Reader

Prompt: “If you don’t like my teasing then why are you moaning?”

Warning: Smut

Intended Audience: Female Audience

Word Count: 3,389

Requested by: @cinnatwisted

Written by: @lordsister

Disclaimer: I do not own Ikemen Revolution or any of its characters. All that goodness is the property of Cybird. I do, however, own the plot of this fanfic. Please do not repost or reblog this on any other website.

Additional Notes: This is kind of a part 2 to another Seth fic I wrote a few months back, but it can be read as it’s own oneshot piece. Here’s the link if you would like to read part 1 --> Man (Seth Hyde x Reader)

       It was impossible to forget. Ever since you had returned from your outing with Seth, the ghost of his touch hadn’t left your skin, clinging to you and making you shiver every time his gaze met yours. In mere heartbeats, your carefully maintained image of him as an older sister had fallen away to expose the man you had always known him to be but had tried hard to ignore. 

       You had feelings for him. That had been true for a long time. But you had convinced yourself that he didn’t feel the same. Every time you thought you were really getting close to him he changed the subject or ran away, so how could you have thought otherwise? Still, the words he’d murmured in your ear from within the curtained walls of the changing room, his fingers on the exposed skin of your back as he’d helped you with the buttons of a blouse, made his intentions towards you very clear. 

       "Oh, my dear, all men are secretly wolves and I may very well be one of them." 

       You shivered at the memory of his fingers in your hair, bringing a lock to his lips for a smiling kiss, your heart pounding. 

       "Though my methods are a little more subtle, I fully intend to steal the heart of my beloved unless she gives it to me herself."

       You jumped, gasping, as hands landed on your shoulders and slid down your arms, a warm chest pressing against your back. A puff of air against your ear made you flush and you didn’t have to turn around to know who it was behind you. Chuckling in your ear, Seth’s hand covered yours, taking the wooden spoon you’d been using to stir the stew. 

       “The stew’s burning, Alice!” he chided in amusement and you thought you heard yourself stutter out an apology through the sudden rushing in your ears.

       Had his voice always been so deep? You were suddenly very aware of his body behind you, the combination of his warmth and scent encompassing you and making your knees weak. You could even feel the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed, each exhale fanning against your neck, and the muscles in his arms flexed for apparently no other reason than making you turn even redder.

       He hummed thoughtfully and you felt the tip of his nose brush against your heated cheek as he said, “Your face is so warm, my love. Are you feeling okay?”

       “I’m fine!” you squeaked, internally cursing the handsome male. He knew exactly why your face was so warm.

       “Are you sure? I could take your temperature if you want. We can’t have our dear little Alice getting sick now.” 

       His fingers ghosted across your forehead, displacing a few locks of hair, and you shivered despite yourself. 

       “I-I’m okay, Seth, really.”

       Warm air blew over the sensitive skin below your ear and you inhaled, body tensing in expectation for the contact of his lips that never came. “Don’t lie to me, (y/n).” His use of your real name, said low and husky, sent a throb of heat to your core and you shuddered into him, the nervous shift of your hips unintentionally brushing your ass against his groin. 

       Seth sighed against your ear and his voice was a pleasured purr as he said, “What’s this? Did what I say earlier have that much of an effect on you? You’re so cute, love~”

       “A-About what you said earlier…” you trailed off, eyes skittering to your feet as you tried to take deep breaths.

       “Yes?” he asked expectantly, hands moving up and down your arms in a strangely soothing motion. Despite how forward he was being, you knew for certain that if you told him to stop, he would, without hesitation. You felt safe.

       “Were you serious?” Your voice was a whisper and you weren’t sure he heard it until he turned you around and the tender, starry look in his eyes made your heart melt. 

       Tilting your chin up, he kissed your forehead softly. “I did. Every word.”

       “Even the part about stealing my heart?”

       He chuckled, caressing your cheek with a soft hand. “Yes. Especially that part. Because you see, my dearest…” Half-lidded chocolate eyes filled your vision as Seth leaned his forehead against yours. “My heart is already yours. It has been for a long, long time.”

       Before you could respond he was gone, pulling away from you with the ghost of a kiss at the corner of your lips and the lingering warmth of his arms around you. Your eyes met his, sparkling with affection and nervous tension, and then he was gone, leaving you to your weak knees and pounding heart and too-hot skin.

       His heart was yours… His. Heart. Was. Yours…

       The words played in your mind over and over, not quite comprehending until a sudden angry pop from the stew still cooking broke the cycle. Grabbing the stew off the stove, you sunk to your knees, cradling your flushed cheeks in your hands. Eventually, the words running through your brain faded, giving way to two others in big, bold letters.

       ...IT’S MUTUAL!

       You were distracted for the rest of the evening, barely able to pay attention when the others were speaking during dinner or when you were chatting with Luka while cleaning up later on. A nervous energy sparked and caught flame within you, growing by the second. Seth hadn’t asked for a response and he’d kept his distance during dinner, but you knew you had to give him one, wanted to give him one. The man you loved was waiting.

       “I think that’s all for tonight, (y/n),” the soft voice of the man next to you interrupted your thoughts.

       “Hmm? What? Oh, okay! Thanks, Luka!”

       The Jack of Spades smiled and grabbed his coat before moving for the door. “Good night, (y/n).”

       “Night, Luka! Sleep well!”

       You took a deep breath when you heard his footsteps echo down the hallway. Unless you wanted a sleepless night and lots of awkwardness on your part when you saw Seth tomorrow, you had to confess your feelings now. 

       Your legs felt weak, but your steps were steady as you set off down the corridor. Nerves had your heart pounding, despite the fact that you already knew your love was requited. Feet stopping as if on instinct, you looked up, blinking, to find yourself not in front of your own door, but in front of Seth’s.

       You stood there, rooted to the spot, for several moments. Now that you thought about it, what were you supposed to say? Just come right out and confess as soon as he opened the door? Wasn’t there something more you were supposed to do? And what would happen after you confessed? The knots in your stomach were winding themselves tighter the more you thought about it.

       Taking a deep breath, you squared your shoulders and rapped your fingers against the dark wood. It opened sooner than you would’ve liked and your cheeks warmed immediately at the vision that greeted you.

       Seth’s hair was down, falling over his shoulders in soft waves of blue, and he was shirtless, showing off his toned chest and abs. Only a loose pair of trousers hung around his hips and even those left little to the imagination. The look on his face was surprised, but you thought he must’ve known you would be coming to him tonight. Something about the immediate heat and delight in his gaze told you so.

       “Alice! What can I help you with so late at night?”

       “I-um! I wanted to talk with you about...about earlier.”

       “Of course!” Stepping back, he held a hand out to his side, gesturing you in with a smile. “Come right in!”

       Stepping through the doorway, you couldn’t help being very aware of him next to you, watching you. 

       “Have a seat wherever you like,” he spoke, turning away from you to dry the ends of his hair with the towel around his shoulders.

       “Thank you.” You took a seat on the sofa and tried not to look too nervous.

       “Okay. Go on, love,” he said softly, sitting down next to you. He was still bare-chested and your face was still hot, but you cleared your throat and met his gaze. His chocolate eyes were gentle and warm, but you could see the same nervous energy you felt in them, his lower lip tucking as he bit it. Maybe Seth wasn’t as cool inside as he was acting on the outside. Maybe he was just as scared of rejection as you were of making this confession. 

       Your heart beat a mad pace in your chest, but you reached out and took his hand anyway, smiling as you did. “I wanted to tell you, Seth, that I...I love you.”

       He seemed speechless for a few heartbeats before he laughed breathlessly, sinking back into the cushions. “You’re amazing, Alice,” he said, covering his eyes with his free hand.

       You blinked. “What do you mean?”

       Sitting up again, he leaned forwards and brushed some of your hair away from your face with a flourish, letting the strands fall through his fingers. “No one has ever been able to control me with a single word like you have. Do you have any idea how hopelessly you have me wrapped around your little finger?”

       Your voice caught in your throat as his lips trailed along your jaw and over your cheek, the contact a simple brush of skin against skin as he reached the corner of your mouth. “Do you?” he whispered again softly, and then his lips covered your own. 

       You had suspected his lips would be soft, but nothing could’ve prepared you for how sweet his kiss was, how it sent flutters down your spine and made your whole body flush with a tender, gentle warmth. He didn’t need to be passionate to leave you wanting him. 

       His tongue caressed your bottom lip and you granted him entrance, moaning into his mouth as he stole your breath away. His hands guided your arms around his neck as he pressed into you, following you as you leaned back. You didn’t realize you had closed your eyes until you opened them moments later to find an Adonis hovering above you, a curtain of blue softening the edges of your vision and eyes like molten chocolate gazing down at you.

       “Perhaps you didn’t take my warning seriously before,” he husked, a pleased, lustful grin breaking over his face through soft pants. Taking your hand he drew you up on shaky legs and led you over to the vanity. His voice was a soft, sensual murmur as he continued,  “All men are wolves, love, and it’s even worse when the sun goes down. However, here you are, in one’s den, as innocent as a lamb.” Turning you around, he met your eyes in the mirror, one hand cradling your jaw while his other arm wrapped around you and his head came to rest on your shoulder. “Tell me, do you know what it implies for a woman to come to a man’s room so late at night?”

       “I-I do.”

       His lips graced the sensitive spot below your ear and you shivered. Seth blinked and the playful light in his eyes dimmed a little, turning serious. “Is this what you want then? Do you want me?”

       “Yes,” you answered, your voice steady despite the hammering of your heart in your chest. “I want you, Seth.”

       He exhaled, his grip on you tightening, and then his mouth attached to your neck, his hands drifting. One ran down your thigh, hiking up the fabric of your skirt as it did, while the other undid the buttons of your blouse. Seth moved slowly, allowing you time to get used to his touch, and you leaned into his soft caress, sighing.

       You mewled as his fingers dove into the open top of your shirt and beneath your bra, fondling your breast. “S-Seth!” you stuttered, biting your lip as he rolled your nipple between his fingers. You bucked against him when, a second later, his hand came into contact with your covered womanhood, already damp with the beginnings of your arousal.

    Releasing your neck with a noisy kiss, he nipped at your earlobe and asked, “May I?”

    You nodded, not trusting yourself to answer without squealing. Seth made quick work of your blouse and skirt, stripping you down to your undergarments before drawing the band of your panties down from your hip to drop forgotten to the floor. Your body tensed and you held your breath, but his touch didn’t come, his breath fanning across your cheek instead.

    When you opened your eyes to look at him in the mirror, Seth was looking at you tenderly. His hands caressed your sides, coaxing you to relax as he said, “I won’t hurt you, my love.”

    Reaching back to run your fingers through his hair, you watched him lean into your touch. “I know. I trust you, Seth.” You smiled at him and bumped his chin with your head, signaling him to continue.

    His hand disappeared from view in the mirror and you held your breath as his fingers traveled along the skin of your inner thigh. Seth’s touch started out soft, barely there at all, before he slipped a finger between your folds, pressing his erection into your ass as he did. Your hands grabbed the edge of the vanity for support and your head fell forward, your back arching. 

    “Seth!” you moaned as he stroked you, panting in your ear as he ground against you. The last of your clothing - your bra - fell away with a pinch from his dexterous fingers, and his hand fully cupped your breast, messaging in time with his thrusts. When his finger slipped inside of you, you cried out, your toes curling. A pleasant fire was quickly filling your limbs, your core throbbing with need as your hips moved against his hand instinctively, seeking that delicious friction. 

    “You look so beautiful,” Seth moaned in your ear and you blushed hard at the wetness you could feel coating his fingers and dripping down your inner thigh. Another finger joined the first and his thumb located your clit, nearly bringing you to your knees as you leaned further onto the vanity.

       “Seth, please! Stop teasing!” you cried, turning to look at him as he sucked and kissed at your nape.

       “Hmm? If you don’t like my teasing then why are you moaning?” His fingers plunged deeper, scissoring inside of you, and you would have fallen had his arm around your waist not been holding you up. “I need to make sure you’re nice and prepared for what comes later.”

       “What comes-!” You knew where this was going but for some reason it made it more embarrassing when he said it out loud like that.

       He chuckled. “I thought I’d made my intentions clear, but I’ll say it anyway. I fully intend to make love to you tonight, my dearest Alice.” His lips found yours in a sweet, loving kiss, the contact gentle and adoring. When the kiss broke heartbeats later, he continued brightly, “Now! I think it’s about time I gave you what you wanted.” The pads of his fingers pressed a spot deep inside of you as his thumb pressed down on your clit. “Be my good girl and come all over my fingers?”

       He didn’t have to say any more. Your climax washed over you hard and fast and you distantly felt your body going completely limp in the arms of the man behind you. His name fell from your lips on a cry, your nails digging into his arm. The heat his fingers coaxed from deep inside you was more intense than anything you’d ever felt before, almost overwhelmingly so.

       “That’s it, darling. Oh, you’re so beautiful like this, climaxing all over my fingers,” Seth murmured lovingly in your ear, your skin oversensitive to his warm breath. When you opened your eyes, you were on Seth’s bed, your essence slick on the inside of your thighs and your lover hovering above you, a sly look on his face.  

       “I want to taste you, but I’m so hard it’s painful.” He laughed, the sound musical and sweet, as you blushed, looking away from him. “Another time. Are you ready for me, my love?”

       Your own forwardness surprised you as you wrapped your arms and legs around him and pulled him closer, his cock brushing your heat and making the both of you moan. A part of you was still shy about doing this with Seth, but you loved him and wanted him desperately.

       “Yes,” you answered. “Make love to me?”

       “I love you so much,” he murmured, kissing your brow. “Thank you.”

       You cried out as he pushed himself inside, your vision filled with blue as Seth kissed you cheeks, your nose, your tightly shut eyes, trying to distract you from the painful stretch. His fingers squeezed yours and you squeezed back shakily, trying to tell him you were alright. He was more well-endowed than you’d thought he’d be, and the pain soon turned to pleasure as your walls accommodated him. 

       “Mmm, Seth,” you gasped, fingers digging into his back.

       “Yes? Does it still hurt? I’ll sto-”

       “No!” Your grip on him tightened, bringing him a little deeper within you and making both he and you moan. “No, please. Please, start moving.”

       Pulling back until just the tip was inside of you, he pushed in again. Your moans quickly drove him to move faster, turning forceful and deep as he thrust deep within you over and over. Seth was a very vocal lover, you learned. His moans were loud and unashamed as he buried his cock in your tight heat, the praises spilling from his lips making you redden with more than just pleasure.

       “I’m in love with you. I love you, I love you, I love you,” he repeated. “I’ve wanted you for so long. You’re so beautiful, and now I finally have you. Finally, mine…”

       He paused in his thrusting to fasten your wrists above your head, lacing his fingers with your own. When you blinked at him, he just smiled, cat-like. You writhed, mewling, as his lips descended on your breasts, kissing and sucking at your nipples and leaving love bites in his wake. All the while, you could feel the coil tightening deep within you, signaling your impending climax. 

       “S-Seth, I-!”

       “Are you close, Alice?” The particularly hard thrust that followed his words made your back arch and you wished you had the strength to break his grip so you could touch him. “So am I.”

       His pace increased until the bed was creaking and you were sure the entire hall could hear you, but you didn’t care. All you cared about was the man above you as he brought you over the edge. 

       You screamed his name as you came, Seth following you into his own climax seconds later. His voice was a deep growl as he bit onto your shoulder, his heat spreading through you and leaving you lightheaded as he marked you. He collapsed on top of you moments later, both of you a panting, sweaty mess. The second his grip went slack on your hands, your fingers were in his hair, combing through the cornflower locks and hugging his muscled shoulders.

       “I love you, (y/n),” he panted, his smile adoring as he looked up at you. “I really, really love you.”

       You giggled. Even though you were exhausted, your body spent and sore, you were fizzing with happy, excited energy. You couldn’t remember the last time you were this happy - so happy you wanted to explode. “I really love you too, Seth.” Kissing the top of his head, you snuggled him tighter as he pulled up the blankets and nuzzled into you. Unable to keep your eyes open any longer, the warmth of his breath on your skin quickly lulled you to sleep, feeling warm and loved. 

       The last thing you heard before falling into unconsciousness was Seth’s whisper. “Thanks for making me your man. I promise you, you won’t regret it. I’ll love you forever.”

[mayquita]

Damn You For Making Me Love You (5/15) - Secrets

Thank you so so much, for your likes, reblogs, kudos and comments. It means the world to me. 

Beta-Reader: Thank you so much, @ultraluckycatnd​​ I couldn’t have asked for a better beta. Thank you for all your effort, your suggestions, your advice and for always being there when I needed you.

Special mention to @saraswans​​ and @onceuponaprincessworld​​​, thank you so much for your perpetual support and for believing in me and in the story. Thank you again to the moderators of the event, @captainswanbigbang​​​ for giving us this opportunity and making this possible. You all are the best :)

Summary: Emma Swan and Killian Jones are close friends and co-workers. And both are in love with each other. The problem? They keep their feelings secret not only to the other but also to the rest of their friends. When Elsa, Emma’s best friend and Liam, Killian’s brother and Emma’s boss find out, they decide to form an alliance and work as a team with a clear goal, to get Emma and Killian to take the next step in their relationship and confess their love for each other.

Rating: M

Word count: ~ 3200 (98k total in 15 chapters)

Also:  

Tumblr: Prologue // Chapter 1 // Chapter 2 // Chapter 3 From the beginning Ao3 / FFnet  — Current chapter: Ao3 / FFnet

About this chapter: Their plan has been ruined... but Elsa doesn't give up and soon comes up with a new plan. Will they succeed this time? This chapter is one of the shortest in this story (it's the continuation of the previous one, actually, since I had to split it into two parts due to its length)

//

Chapter 4: Secrets

Elsa - December 2019

Elsa hadn’t moved off the couch since Emma left the apartment a few hours earlier. The only activity she had done was to call Liam pretending to be his employee, Robin. She hoped Liam had the volume on his phone low enough because she couldn’t help but giggle at how he pretended in front of his brother and her friend that there was an emergency.

He had called her back a few minutes later, clearly excited because Operation HE was on course as planned. He was also apparently worried having noticed her hoarse tone in the previous call. It was then that Elsa had told him that she hadn’t needed to fake her illness.

So Elsa remained on the couch, too excited and impatient to try to sleep a little, but also weak enough to entertain herself with another task while she waited for Emma's return.

She still felt like crap. She felt a constant hammering in her head, her nose was stuffy, and her throat ached like hell, making even the simple task of swallowing hard. Dammit ! The karma in the form of a horrible cold had come in search of her. That had been her idea from the beginning, pretending that she was sick to avoid going to the restaurant. But it was obvious that she hadn’t needed to fake it at all. Despite her discomfort, though, it had made things even more believable, so she hoped this would at least have helped her cause.

At that moment, she heard someone opening the front door, so she sat up, eager to see Emma's reaction. The expectation didn’t last, however, since, before even being able to see Emma, her sister approached her and began to speak in her hurried style.

"Oh Elsa, you look horrible!" Anna placed her hand on her sister's forehead to check her temperature, but the distraction was short-lived. "It was a shame you couldn’t go to the restaurant. The place was so sophisticated and the food delicious, right Emma? Anyway, you and I have to go back someday, when you recover, of course."

Elsa's eyebrows went together, showing the confusion she felt at that moment. Maybe the headache had clouded her mind, because Anna hadn’t been in the same restaurant as Emma, spoiling their surprise date, right? RIGHT? "Wait a moment..." Oh God, even the attempt to speak was painful and her voice sounded totally hoarse. Still, she managed to continue. "What happened here? Were you at the same restaurant as Emma and Killian tonight?" Her gaze shifted to her friend's for confirmation.

Emma nodded in response, but before she could speak, her sister— her crazy sister — came forward. "Oh yeah! Since you were sick and couldn’t attend I thought we could try our luck and get us at the same table. And as Liam had to leave, we had no problem at all. So in the end, there was again a table for four!" Anna giggled.

What the hell? Had she heard correctly? Had her plan been ruined because of her sister? Her jaw dropped slightly and she remained that way for a few seconds, unable to react. But Anna interrupted her once more, rising and heading for the bathroom. At least the momentary absence of the whirlwind she had for a sister gave her the opportunity to talk to Emma and see how the night had gone.

Her friend took off her coat and placed it on the coat rack, also taking off her shoes and collapsing beside her on the couch.

"It's true that you look awful, Elsa. Have you taken any pills to relieve your symptoms?"

"I'm fine, it's just a cold." She waved her hand, dismissing the matter. 

"And what have you been doing in my absence? Have you been all alone all this time?" Emma asked using a carefree tone, but Elsa detected a special spark in her gaze that she could not identify.

"I've been here, lying on the couch alone with only the company of my viruses. I've been better, but I'll survive." Elsa gave Emma a scrutinizing look. She had the feeling that her friend was trying to divert attention to avoid being asked about a certain aspect of her night. 

She knew that Emma wasn’t going to openly express how she felt. Since her confession two months ago, Emma had hardly said anything about it. Any attempt to talk about Killian and her feelings toward him were abruptly cut off. Yes, she still felt the same and no, she was not going to do anything about it. That was all Elsa had gotten, so asking directly about him was not the best idea if she intended to get some kind of information on how the night went.

This time the expression on Emma’s face was relaxed, the corners of her lips rising slightly, drawing a small smile that she had already identified as Killian’s smile. Her gaze also had a special glow, so she hoped that despite Anna's interruption, the night had gone well.

"So how was your night? Anna clearly liked the place, but what did you think?"

"She's right. The restaurant was elegant and the food delicious. The four of us had a nice time, although we missed you and Liam, of course."

"You had a good time with Killian, then?" she asked tentatively.

Before answering, Emma bit her lower lip and looked away for a moment, as if deciding what to reveal. "Yes, everything was fine with Killian. He even made me put my beanie on when we left the restaurant." To Elsa's surprise, Emma seemed more relaxed than usual and more open to expressing how she felt.

"Since Liam and I couldn’t attend, perhaps you would have preferred to dine alone with Killian," Elsa ventured, testing the waters.

"We actually spent some time alone, before your sister came in. It was only a few minutes, but that gave me an idea of how the night would have gone without the interruption of Anna and Kristoff. And I think the night would have been quite interesting, honestly." Emma offered her a broad smile as she raised an eyebrow.

This is new, she thought, pleasantly surprised at Emma's new attitude. It seemed their plan had not been a complete failure after all. If any doubt remained, it cleared the moment Emma's phone began to buzz and she looked at the screen. Her face brightened and her smile widened even more.

When Emma noticed that she was being watched she tried to hide her smile, pressing her lips together forming a straight line. "I have... I have to change clothes. I'll be back in a moment." Without further ado, she rose from the sofa and headed for her bedroom with her phone still in hand and her smile back on her face.

These two idiots... It was obvious that Emma was chatting with Killian despite having just said goodbye to him a few minutes ago. If they were aware of the image they presented outwardly, they might consider bringing down those walls that prevented them from advancing toward each other. It reminded her that she had to contact Liam to tell him the news. But just then her sister reappeared, collapsing beside her on the couch.

"So, what's going on with those two?" Anna pointed to Emma's bedroom. The question caught Elsa off guard and for a moment she couldn’t react.

"What do you mean?"

Anna rolled her eyes as she sighed, preparing herself for one of her endless chats. "There has always been an unresolved sexual tension between them, but there seems to be a lot more lately; so much that it can be cut with a knife. Do you know something that I don't?"

Elsa shifted uneasily in her seat. She didn't like to hide things from her sister, but Emma had made it very clear that she didn't want to reveal her secret to anyone else. "They're just friends, Anna." As her sister rolled her eyes again in a sign that she wasn't buying it, Elsa was forced to add something more, this time showing some more conviction in her voice. "Sometimes the line between friendship and something else may be blurred, but in this case, there is nothing else, at least for now." 

She wasn’t lying here, was she?

"Whatever you say, but tonight these two definitely devoured each other with their eyes. It's a matter of time, I'm telling you."

"We'll see," she added as she closed her eyes and massaged her temples. Her headache had become more intense, a sign that maybe it was time for her to try to rest.

Anna also seemed to notice her discomfort, because she immediately pushed her to get up. "Okay, bedtime, sis. I'm going to sleep on the couch, don't worry about me. I'll bother Emma if I need anything."

Elsa didn’t reply. She gave Anna a small smile before heading for her bedroom, but not before grabbing her phone. She had to do something else before succumbing to sleep.

Once in the privacy of her room, she moved as far away from the door as possible to avoid being heard and dialed Liam's number. 

He answered on the third ring.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Liam, can you talk?" she asked in a whisper.

"Hey, Elsa! How are you, do you feel any better?" Liam's voice had a hint of concern that was new to her, mostly because they didn't have as close a relationship as Emma had with Killian. For some reason, Elsa felt quite comforted by his words.

"I'll be better tomorrow. I hope so, at least."

"You should rest, we can always talk tomorrow."

She deliberately ignored him. She needed to make sure Liam was on the same page as she was. "Have you talked to Killian tonight?"

"Not yet, although he sent me a message telling me he was coming to The Kraken to help me close."

"Well, you should know then that our operation failed. My sister Anna appeared in the restaurant and she and Kristoff replaced us at dinner."

"Oh, come on, really?" he replied, clearly annoyed. The truth was that they had put all of their hopes on this date, and although the result hadn’t been the desired one, it might not have been a total loss.

"But it seems the night has not gone completely awry," she reassured him, trying to soften her voice despite her hoarseness. "Emma has come home quite happy."

"Oh, bloody hell, I have to hang up now, lass. Killian just got in,” Liam said as he lowered his voice. “I'll inform you as soon as I can. Take care." With that, the call ended abruptly.

Elsa put her phone down on her bedside table and laid down on the bed. Despite her exhaustion and discomfort, she remained expectant, clearly curious about Killian's reaction. Still, the cold began to take its toll, her eyelids getting heavier. She found it increasingly difficult to stay awake. Just as she was about to fall asleep, her phone buzzed with an incoming message.

Hi again. Killian is too close, that's why I'm not calling you back. Besides, it's better this way, since you won’t have to force your voice to talk to me. But I did want to tell you that our plan hasn't been a failure despite your sister. - LJ

Elsa smiled, grateful again for Liam's concern for her. Her fingers slid quickly across the keyboard, eager to know more.

Did Killian tell you anything? - Elsa

No, but he's smiling like an idiot. - LJ

Her smile grew even wider, as both Emma and Killian seemed to be reacting in the same way.

That's good, don’t you think? - Elsa

Aye, and that means we're on the right track. We must continue to create similar situations, to bring them closer. Any new ideas? - LJ

In fact, Elsa had already thought of a new plan for their operation. Something that could be fun and could even increase their physical contact. Not to mention that she was an expert on the subject.

Uhm, yes, I have something in mind. Do you have any plans for Sunday afternoon? Because we're going ice skating. The four of us. - Elsa

That's a great idea! Not only will I finally be able to check your skills as a skater, but it turns out that the three of us are not exactly experts… - LJ

And that means that they may have to hold onto each other so they don't fall to the ice. - Elsa

You are bloody fantastic, lass! - LJ

Elsa felt a little overwhelmed by the number of compliments she was receiving in such a short space of time. That was something she was not accustomed to, so she felt the need to reward him somehow.

Well, it seems like you and I work well together. It's a merit of the two of us. - Elsa

Aye. And now you should go to sleep. I hope you will be recovered enough for Sunday. We'll speak soon. Good night Elsa. - LJ

Good night, Liam. - Elsa

Elsa silenced her phone and put it back on her nightstand, resting her head on the pillow. Despite all the odds, everything seemed to be going pretty well. The fact that she was going to be able to put her ice skating knowledge into practice was a great incentive.

She had a slight suspicion that Killian and Emma were going to accept the plan without thinking twice. It seemed pretty clear that the two of them were enjoying these new opportunities offered to be together. With that thought, she finally closed her eyes, praying that she would recover enough to be able to go skating on Sunday because she didn't want to miss that plan for the world.

 //

Emma - December 2019

When Emma left her bedroom after a brief chat with Killian, she found that Elsa was no longer in the living room. She couldn't help feeling disappointed since she wouldn't have minded continuing their previous conversation, now that she felt confident enough to be able to share her feelings with her at least.

She was aware that her friend didn't feel good and needed to rest, though. Even so, she didn't give up and after wishing Anna a good night, she went to Elsa's bedroom, trusting that she might not have succumbed to sleep yet.

The first indication that something strange was happening came when Emma found the door to Elsa's bedroom closed. They never left the door closed unless in specific circumstances involving one-night stands. She didn't even remember the last time that had happened in both cases, so finding the door like that, far from intimidating, got her curiosity to increase.

Maybe she shouldn't be proud of her act, but the truth was that after taking a look at the living room to make sure she wasn't on Anna's radar, she pressed her ear against the smooth surface of the door to try to hear something, anything, that gave her a clue as to what her friend was up to.

Whispers. Although Emma pressed her ear even further against the wood to catch a simple word, she did not succeed. But what was clear was that Elsa had locked herself in her bedroom to hold a secret conversation with someone. Her previous suspicions increased as she was almost entirely sure that someone had a proper name that began with the letter L .

Before she could consider the next step, her phone buzzed in her hand, causing her to curse inwardly as she walked away from the door toward her bedroom so she wouldn't be discovered. When she verified that she had just received a text from Killian, she hurried to open the message.

I just got to The Kraken, love. I'm sorry to disappoint you, but Liam was here. In fact, he has been here all along since he left the restaurant. - KJ

How do you know that? - ES

Because I asked Robin, Swan. He also confirmed Liam's ‘alibi’, although to be honest, he seemed quite uncomfortable with the interrogation. - KJ

Although she wouldn't recognize it, she had to admit, at least to herself, that she felt somewhat disappointed that her theory had not come true. Still, it was clear that both Elsa and Liam were up to something.

They may not have seen each other today, but I'm sure they are talking on the phone now. - ES

Did Elsa tell you that she is talking to Liam? - KJ

No, but she has locked herself in her bedroom to talk to someone. Just out of curiosity, what’s your brother doing now? - ES.

His answer did not come immediately, probably because Killian had gone to check on his brother. While waiting, she began to feel a tingle of excitement. She felt like she was the best friend of the main character in a movie from her favorite genre. Since she was alone in her room, she didn't mind at all behaving like a teenager instead of the 28-year-old grown-ass woman she really was. Life is much more exciting when you look at it through the eyes of a young person, right?

When she read Killian's answer, she raised a fist in the air while suppressing the cry of triumph bubbling in her throat.

He was talking on the phone when I arrived at the bar, but he ended the call when he saw me. Now he's typing something on the screen, clearly chatting with someone. - KJ

See? I told you - ES

Okay, Swan. You have managed to catch my interest. What's really going on with my brother and Elsa? - KJ

I have no idea, but something tells me that it won't be necessary for us to push them together. I think they're going to do the work for us. - ES

Well, I don't care at all to play around if that means they come up with a plan like the one from today. - KJ

Maybe it was her level of excitement or the euphoria that still ran through her veins after all the interactions she had shared with Killian during the day. Whatever it was, she would swear there was a hidden meaning in Killian's words, something that was probably related to her.

If I didn't know you better I would say that you're using your brother's excuse to spend more time with me. - ES

And am I getting it? - KJ

It would not be a difficult task considering that you and I already spent almost all of our time together. Even so, I'm totally in with any crazy plan in which they want to involve us. - ES

When she finished her conversation with Killian she dropped onto the mattress, letting out a deep sigh, her lips pulling up in a wide smile. She was aware that she must remain cautious to protect her heart, that her growing feelings for Killian were a dangerous weapon, but, just for once, she allowed herself to dream about a possible future with him. She allowed herself to think about what it would mean to express her love without restrictions, without the need to mask her true feelings. 

The mere idea that she might one day be brave enough to be honest with Killian caused a burning sensation to spread through her veins to her heart, while the butterflies in her stomach fluttered vigorously. She wasn't yet at that point, but perhaps the strange game started by Liam and Elsa would allow them to keep approaching each other. For the first time in a long time, she was willing to play with fire, without the paralyzing fear of burning invading her.

//

I hadn't thought about a specific song for this chapter since, at first, it was part of the previous chapter, but then I remembered the song Secrets by One Republic and decided that it could fit, not because of the meaning of the lyrics but because there seem to be several secrets hovering around.

Thanks for reading. Let me know what you think :)

What to expect in the next chapter? New flashback from Killian's point of view, new performance ... and new attempt on Liam and Elsa's plan.