#put shit to the floor for an up or down vote; that's all you gotta do

[that-ineffable-devil]

Rainbow in the Dark | Chapter 3

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Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7

Author's Note: This is where things get better, then worse for Eddie--but there's a shining light at the end of the tunnel in the form of Wayne Munson and a safe haven in Hawkins. Hawkins may not be perfect, but his father's not there--and that's a damn good start.

WARNING: This chapter gets rough at the end, so I've put the "Read More" break just before the parental violence begins for your ease. The violence is not graphic, but Eddie's disassociation and subsequent injuries/hospitalization suck.

Chapter 3: Flight of Icarus

One sunny afternoon, Eddie found himself in Luke’s dusty garage—the rest of his friends sprawled out across tattered sofas or playing pool on a heavily battered pool table. Luke had gone to run some errands for his mom, but he’d promised to bring back a surprise for them if they waited.

The warm summer air was thick and sticky, and the boys were grateful for the shady reprieve of the open garage. They eagerly chattered about weekend plans, hoping to get out and explore the nearby woods, taking up arms with the wooden weaponry provided by nature to fight the foul beasts in their imaginations. The humidity suggested that Mother Nature had other plans, with distant thunderclouds slowly rolling toward town.

“I think the whole plan is scrapped, man,” one of the boys remarked, staring moodily at the oncoming storm from his spot on the sofa.

“Oh c’mon, it’s just a little water—you afraid to get wet or somethin’?” a red-headed boy remarked, his freckles crinkling into his smirk.

“I ain’t afraid o’ nothin’, asshole,” the moody boy bit back, “I just got these sneakers, is all, and I ain’t plannin’ to ruin ‘em just yet.”

“Sure, sure. Ain’t afraid o’ nothin’…but a little mud.”

“You little…” the moody boy lunged at his antagonist, tackling him to the floor.

They swatted each other a few times, not really intending to harm, before they both fell back laughing along with the rest of the group.

“Stu’s got a point, though, Red,” Eddie said with a shrug, hoping to appear nonchalant. “No point in pissing off the Wardens with muddy clothes an’ shit.”

“You too, Munson? Can’t believe Sir Edward the Bold is defeated by a little dirt! Your dad can’t be all that tough,” Red replied, clucking his tongue.

“You don’t know the Warden, Red,” Eddie breathed quietly.

A sudden whooping shout from somewhere down the driveway distracted them all. Turning toward the sound, they saw Luke walking up with a stack of books, papers, and boxes.

“Luke!” they shouted together, Eddie jumping up and running to help the boy with the items.

Luke and Eddie exchanged warm smiles as they divided the stack. Eddie huffed a bit at the weight; Luke raised a brow in question. Eddie ignored the look and continued carrying his share, pretending he didn’t notice the slight waddle he’d adopted.

The boys set the items down on a makeshift table they’d cobbled together with some milk crates and an old, weathered door. It had seen better days, but it served its purpose well enough.

“What have you geniuses been arguing about while I quested for your benefit?” Luke asked with a smirk as he spun around to face the group, crossing his arms as he did.

“Oh, uh, we were deciding whether to brave the elements to adventure in the woods this weekend, or to postpone the quest until the weather dries up,” Eddie offered eagerly, a grin spreading across his face.

“I see, I see,” said Luke, adopting a serious expression and scratching his chin. “And what did the group decide?”

“Well, see…that’s…” Eddie began, looking down nervously.

“We ain’t decided yet ‘cuz we’re split down the middle—2 against 2. You gotta vote, Luke!” Red shouted at him.

Luke looked about the group pensively, as though reading their opinions through their body language. When Luke’s eyes turned to examine Eddie, the boy hoped he didn’t look as terrified as he felt. If he came home muddy and gross after one of their adventures, his father would be furious. But he also knew that if the group wanted to go, then he’d go with them. When he raised his eyes, Eddie felt a jolt of adrenaline as he realized Luke was still observing him, his expression soft.

“Well,” Luke said, finally. “I may have just the thing. Would y’all like to go on an adventure all from the comfort of this very garage? Snacks and sodas included?”

The entire group eyed Luke as though he’d sprouted another head.

“You mean like…watch TV?” one of them asked.

“No, my dear James, not TV… Have any of you boys heard about… Dungeons and Dragons?” Luke responded, dramatically flourishing to the items behind him as he stepped away from the table.

With a little persuasion and the promise of a full smorgasbord of snacks and sodas, the group agreed to try this strange game played with pens, paper, strange polyhedral dice, and math. The math was the hardest sell—Red was vehemently against doing more school on the weekend—but when Eddie showed him that he could be a dwarf that carried a ridiculously enormous battle-axe, he finally relented.

They held their first game the following Saturday morning, rain pattering loudly against the tin roof. There was a steep learning curve and they didn’t all pick it up right away, though they all eventually found their footing in the game.

For Eddie, though, it was love at first die roll. Sure, the rules were complicated, and you practically needed a college degree to track and calculate all the math. But this was fantasy, storytelling, and imagination in their purest forms. This was the power of creation in the palm of your hands.

And the allure of the escape was strong. For once, he and his group could pretend the awful reality they struggled to survive was nothing but a bad dream, creating their own world and shaping it to their desires. They could be heroes, villains, soldiers for hire, or anything they wanted.

They took turns leading and storytelling as the “Dungeon Master,” but Eddie truly excelled at it. He felt it was like coming home; like he was giving life to every ignored or suppressed piece of his soul.

He dedicated months of his life to learning the rules and the lore. He poured every ounce of his heart and soul into his campaigns. Every story was complex, every puzzle a challenge, and he brought so much life to every NPC (non-player character), that his friends struggled to see the line between the characters and their friend.

Nobody played like Eddie, and his passion brought his friends happily through each adventure with him.

“See, kid, every man’s gotta learn to make a livin’ at some point in his life,” Eddie’s father muttered as he jimmied the door open on the vehicle before him. “Don’t just stare at me, boy, yer s’posed to be the lookout!”

Eddie instinctively dodged the hand that swung towards his head, eyes swiveling back down the dark alleyway to the street. He hoped his father wouldn’t remember. A few metallic clicks later, his father had the door to the shimmering blue ’67 Firebird slightly open, motioning Eddie to come around behind it.

“Now,” he grunted as he worked at the steering column with his screwdriver, “you could go an’ get a job for some asshole who’ll pay you pennies to break yer back…”

He popped cover off the column and dug through the wiring.

“Git the wire stripper outta my jacket pocket, boy,” he grumbled as he separated the battery wires from the others.

Still swapping his attention between his father’s movements and the dark street in the distance, Eddie fumbled around in the jacket pocket until he found the right tool, holding it out for his father, who grabbed it moments later.

“Or you could go inter business fer yerself, like your old man,” he continued from his earlier thought.

“Course, you could always try gettin’ into the drug trade, but unless yer going full organized crime, there ain’t enough money in it to bother. Or you could try just stealin’ car audio an’ shit, but the real money..AH!” his father hissed, shaking his fingers from the shock he’d received.

“Son of a bitch,” he growled, but then continued his work, stripping more wires and twisting them together.

“The real money,” he continued, now connecting the ignition wire to the battery, causing the lights on the dash to flicker on, “is in full auto reclamation and sales. Now pay attention, son, this is the tricky part.”

Eddie looked away from the street to watch his father’s hands. He carefully stripped an end off the starter wire and held it close to the battery wire, before meeting his son’s eyes.

“You know what? It’s almost yer birthday, why don’t you do the honors?” he said with a small grin.

Eddie gulped, but nodded, holding his hands out for the wires. He’d watched his father do this a hundred times, so he knew this was the most dangerous part—short of getting caught, of course. He took a deep breath to steady his hands, then carefully touched the live wires together to generate a spark—the engine roaring to life.

His father gave a soft whoop as he took the wires from Eddie and revved the engine a few times.

“Hop in, kid, we got places to be!” he hissed over the engine.

As Eddie closed the door, his father gave a wolfish howl and shifted gears, carrying them off into the night. Eddie smiled in spite of himself—this was the version of his father he loved most. He felt more alive, more real, more like a father—despite the crime.

As the engine roared down the street, Eddie couldn’t help but join in his father’s howls and laughter. Maybe this year, his birthday wouldn’t be so bad.

A few days later, on Eddie’s thirteenth birthday, his father came home late and in a terrible state. The lines of his brow were creased with an unspoken rage, and his ruddy nose and cheeks coupled with the rank smell of alcohol told him this was a danger night. Eddie responded quickly to harshly barked orders as the Warden slumped to the couch and flipped on the tiny TV in their trailer.

As he worked quietly—but quickly—in the kitchen, the Warden sat in stony silence. Eddie’s neck prickled uncomfortably as the hairs rose. Silence was a bad sign—far more dangerous than when he came in slinging insults—so he kept glancing up from the stove to see if he had moved.

As Eddie slid the grilled cheese from the pan onto a paper plate, he noticed the Warden still hadn’t moved. He wasn’t even sure the man had blinked. As quietly as possible, he set a freshly opened bottle of beer and the hot sandwich in front of him, then quietly backed away.

He held his breath for several seconds, not even blinking as he stared at the Warden, looking for any hint of movement or potential violence. He flinched as the man reached out for the sandwich, but he only brought it to his mouth and took a bite. Eddie nodded to himself, now backing slowly into his room, only releasing his breath once he’d closed the door and heard no movement from the living room.

He was supposed to run a D&D game tonight—the last game of this campaign. He didn’t want to leave the Party hanging and was genuinely worried they may come looking for him if he didn’t show up. The Warden wouldn’t like that. It was dangerous to leave…but it was also dangerous to stay.

After several minutes of agonizing deliberation, Eddie’s heart pulled him toward his bedroom window, despite his anxiety screaming in the back of his mind. He turned his radio on—not too high, but not too low either—and locked the door to his room, then silently slipped through the window and grabbed his bike on his way to meet his adventuring party.

It had been a wild game, filled with twists and turns as his friends valiantly fought every enemy thrown at them. Eddie’s face was evasive, a mysterious but almost impassive smile unfurling from his lips. This was it—the party had arrived to face their final challenge—Death herself. He leaned forward to address the Party.

“As you enter the forsaken cathedral, a shaft of shimmering moonlight pierces the broken stained-glass window to alight on a pale elven woman in flowing midnight robes,” Eddie said in hushed tones, bringing the chatter at the table to rapt silence.

“She turns her head as you approach, a hint of a smile curling across her lips. Her raven curls fall forward as she bows deeply, then lifts her face with a dazzling smile…”

“Holy shit, Eddie…is that…is she?” Luke stammered.

Eddie’s grin widened, giving an almost imperceptible nod.

“Her once violet eyes now resemble the night sky—pitch black but strewn and sparkling with stars and supernovas exploding within them. ‘I have been awaiting you, my friends,’ she says, her musical voice soft in the reverent hush of the cathedral.”

“L…Leti?” one of the other boys asked timidly.

Eddie’s grin transformed into a smirk, eyes darkening as he tilted his head down.

“’Hello again, Lord Brighton,’ Letifer purrs, slowly rising from her bow, her smile faltering for but a moment. ‘I am…truly sorry for the deception, there was no other way.’”

“No other way for what, Leti?” Luke’s character, Sir Thanas, asked grimly.

“At Sir Thanas’ words, Letifer curls her arms inward, almost hugging herself before flinging them wide, shadows stretching rapidly from her torso. The shadows rush toward you, hunger evident in their movements. Roll for initiative, fuckers,” Eddie finished with a grin, commencing the battle to end all battles.

It was a long, exhausting fight—the entire party fought bravely, losing two members during the battle. In the end, it was Sir Thanas and Letifer left to clash in the center of the cathedral—the remaining two party members too exhausted to fight on.

Though he drew the battle out longer than necessary, Eddie had always planned for the party to win—he just wanted them to feel the triumph of the victory. So, when Sir Thanas thrust his flaming blade into Letifer’s torso, he didn’t use any of her remaining abilities to weasel out of it. They had earned the win.

Or had they?

“As the flames from your enchanted blade begin to spread from its place in her torso, her now-again violet eyes rise to meet yours, Sir Thanas, a small, sorrowful smile flickering across her lips, even as black blood seeps from the corners of her mouth” narrated Eddie, his eyes twinkling in the dim light of his friend’s garage.

“’Thank you…my friend…I was so very, very tired’ she sighs peacefully as she begins to slump over your blade. As the last breath leaves her, her body dissolves into a billion shade-black moths that envelope you, Thanas. The remaining members of your party watch in awe as the moths glow bright as moonlight, then fade to the purest white. As they take wing, you feel a sudden, gripping chill, as though falling through the ice of a frozen lake,” Eddie continued, his eyes locked onto Luke’s face, trying to read every movement, every expression.

“I…I look down—does anything look different?” Luke’s voice was cracked and dry, his soda long forgotten.

Eddie’s grin returned—this was everything he wanted—then he nodded knowingly.

“You look down at yourself to discover your golden plate armor has been replaced with black leather and a dark hooded cloak. Your hands are pale, as though blood no longer warms them, and in your right hand, where once there had been a red-flamed sword, a wicked, ebony scythe etched with silvery runes glitters coldly in the surrounding torchlight. You have successfully defeated Death, and thus accepted the mantle yourself.”

The immediate silence was deafening as his friends shared shocked expressions, eyes wide and mouths open. Then, without warning, they erupted into excited shouts, shaking Luke by his shoulders while he laughed incredulously. Riding the high of their joy, Eddie wrapped up the remaining plot threads, leaving just enough unwoven to allow room for a new, but related campaign.

“Eddie, that was your best yet, man, amazing!”

“I can’t believe Leti was Death! Did you plan that from the beginning?”

“And like, dude, of course you can’t just kill Death, there’s gotta be balance or whatever, but still…I never saw it coming!”

“You’re brilliant, you know,” Luke said in Eddie’s ear, his voice reverberating through his brain and giving him goosebumps.

Yeah, this was worth any cost he’d have to pay his father.

His father.

Eddie glanced at his watch, fear pooling in his stomach. His face fell, eyes clouding with terror—how was it already one in the morning? He needed to get home…now. No, he needed to already be there—to have never left.

Hoping his father was deep in a whiskey-induced slumber, Eddie schooled his face into his best, mysteriously smug smile, bowing deeply to the party members and clearing his throat loudly. Luke eyed Eddie, his brows knitted with concern. He’d been friends with Eddie long enough to notice when the boy shifted into a different character.

“And now, my dear adventurers, I’m afraid your master must fly back to his tower to ponder his crystal ball and consider your futures. May you enjoy the fruits of your labor, and may your deceased friends find the afterlife they so bravely fought for. See you at school tomorrow!” he announced brightly before fleeing the scene as calmly as he could.

If anyone said anything as he left, the roaring rush of blood in Eddie’s ears prevented him from hearing it. He didn’t even notice when Luke started to follow him out of the garage.

“Please be asleep, please be asleep and unaware,” he muttered to himself as he climbed onto his bike and began to pedal like his life depended on it—because it very well might.

As he snuck quietly back to his window, he considered the risk he’d taken. Though his gut twisted in fear of what may await inside the trailer, the high of his friends’ praise and a successful campaign left him feeling that the risk had been worth it. He’d never had the Party so invested in a game, nor so surprised by his twists. He glanced furtively around his room while climbing quietly back through his window.

Feeling the same icy chill he’d described for Sir Thanas, his heart dropped with an almost audible “plunk” to the bottom of his stomach at what greeted him. His bedroom door was gone, replaced by a rectangular hole ringed in splintered wood. In the doorway, the Warden sat in one of their deep crimson fold-out chairs, a sledgehammer leaning frighteningly against his thigh.

There was a seething silence as Eddie hesitated, halfway through the window, thinking he seriously miscalculated this risk. The Warden appeared calm, but Eddie swore he could see a red, murderous glint in his eyes. And the sledgehammer sat far too close to the Warden’s hands for his comfort.

Before he could decide which direction to tilt, the Warden’s lips twisted into a ghastly grimace and he launched himself at Eddie, dragging him roughly through the window. Though he wouldn’t remember the pain, he would remember the sound of the window breaking against his leg.

At some point during the Warden’s retribution, Eddie felt as though he’d left his body. From above, he watched the grisly scene below him with a detached and morbid curiosity. He wondered idly if anyone else knew what was happening, or if they even cared.

As his consciousness faded, he imagined Letifer’s welcoming smile, arms open as if to embrace him. Distant sirens wailed, and he collapsed into her arms, exhausted, before the world faded to black.

Eddie’s eyes blinked and watered painfully at the bright lights around him. If this is death, why does it fucking hurt so much, his mind demanded. He tried to look around himself, to figure out where he was, but his body was immobilized. With rising panic, he flicked his eyes in every direction, trying to find any information.

As he adjusted to the brightness, he saw long wires and tubes above him—no wait, were they connected to him? Various bags of liquids hung from a silver pole on his right, each ending in a tube that reached toward him like Leti’s shadows.

His whole body ached and burned, and despite his panic, exhaustion was taking over. He blearily gazed down toward his arms and legs, finding he had casts on each leg from toes to thighs—and while he couldn’t fully see his arms, what he did see looked blue and purple and swollen.

He took a deep, shuddering breath, and a dull ache in his side and chest became a white-hot lance of pain, as though someone had shoved a dagger between his ribs and was scraping the back of his shoulder blade. When he tried to cry out in pain, his scratchy throat could only produce a painfully raspy puff of air—no louder than a whisper. He shut his eyes, trying desperately to prevent the involuntary tears from escaping. He tried to focus on something…anything else but his body.

Though his ears rang deafeningly, it did not mask the barely muffled shouting from men outside the room’s door. He tried to make out the words, or at least identify the voices, but the effort made his head ache and his eyes water even more, and he soon slipped into unconscious again. When he next awoke, he was surprised to see his Uncle Wayne was asleep in a chair by his bedside, holding his hand.

Eddie didn’t see or speak to his father again after that. Once he’d been released from the hospital, Wayne took Eddie home with him, and that was that.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7

Post Notes: Our boy is finally escaping to Hawkins where things are sure to get better, right? Right? And all the blessings on our dear Wayne.

If you've been following the story, this is likely the last time we'll see or hear of Luke and Eddie's old party, so don't get too attached.

Chapter 4 Preview: Steve doesn't know it yet, but Tommy is pissed to discover Steve has been skipping lunches with him to spend time with Jonathan Byers--of all people. But Hagans don't get mad, no, Hagans get even--and that's exactly what he's going to do. Mr. Harrington would surely want to know what kind of company his son keeps, after all.

Thank you to all readers who have made it this far! Likes, comments, and shares are deeply appreciated! I, like Steve, am heavily motivated by praise.

Credits

Bat dividers courtesy of StrayWords.

Fic title courtesy of Rainbow in the Dark by Dio.

Chapter title courtesy of Flight of Icarus by Iron Maiden.

[andvys]

Longing (part 20) 

Warnings: angst, smut, fluff

Pairing: Ellie Williams x reader

“Fuck.. this is so fucking dumb..” you muttered under your breath, struggling to button up your flannel, you were failing horribly. Using just one arm was really harder than you thought. 

Rolling your eyes in annoyance you sat back down on the bed, how were you going to survive in this world when you couldn't even put your clothes on properly. You looked down at your arm, glaring at it, you couldn't stand the way it was just hanging there limply. Knowing it was there but not being able to use it was torture. Especially the pain you felt in your arm and your shoulder, it’s like you constantly felt Abby pulling the arrow out, over and over again, the pain never went away.

You wouldn't be able to fight anymore and while you hated fighting people you still loved the feeling you got out if it whenever you won a fight but now you wouldn't be able to feel it anymore. 

You were pulled out of your thoughts when you heard knocking on your door. Closing your eyes, you exhaled softly preparing yourself for yet another pitiful stare. 

Looking down at your flannel, you were glad that you wore a tank top underneath it otherwise you wouldn't have opened the door.

You opened the door to find Dina on the other side, holding something in her hand. She smiled softly at you “good morning.” she walked inside when you stepped aside letting her in.

“morning, what brings you here?” you asked, curiously.

“I brought you breakfast and this.” she said, handing you what looked like an arm sling. your heart instantly warmed at her kind gesture. smiling at her you took the arm sling, eying the black material. so this is what you would be wearing for the rest of your life.

“thank you Dina, you're amazing.” you said, looking at her, you realized just how much you missed her. she was always there for you, right from the start when you came to Jackson, she was your best friend.

“it’s nothing.. you should eat.” she told you, holding a box out for you to take, giving you the same stern look that Maria gave you last night. 

raising your brows in amusement “you're such a mom.” you chuckled at her, taking the box from her, you sat down on your sofa, telling her to sit down beside you. 

after eating the oatmeal dina made for you, you talked for a while. she was telling you about everything that happened in Jackson while you were away but you spaced out midway, thinking about Ellie. 

“hey are you okay?” dina asked in concern, she put a hand on your shoulder, snapping you out of your thoughts.

she noticed the painful expression on your face and knew that you weren't listening to what she was saying. 

“I- yeah I'm fine.” you said, trying to give her a smile.

“you're thinking about her.” she guessed, looking at you with sympathy.

“she hates me.” you told her, leaning back against the sofa, staring at the wall in front of you. 

“she doesn't hate you, she's just being a.. brat.” dina sighed, annoyed at her friend for treating you this way, especially in the state you were in you needed someone to be there for you, to tell you everything was gonna be alright. 

you had her and you had Jesse but that was different, you needed Ellie and Ellie needed you but she was just too damn stubborn.

snorting at her calling Ellie a brat, you looked at her noticing a grin on her face. “you know what enough about me, how's little Jesse doing in there?” you asked with a smile on your face.

“little Jesse?” she gasped playfully, “maybe it’s little dina.” she said, rubbing her small bump. she started to show a little and it definitely suited her, she looked cute like that.

“hmm I don't know but something tells me it’s little Jesse.” you teased.

she laughed at you, telling you you were wrong. 

“I uh- I gotta go now, I have to talk to Maria.” you said, a frown appearing on your face, you weren't in the mood to talk about abby but you couldn't run from this conversation.

“Ellie is gonna be there too.” dina warned you “Jesse told me that Maria said there's gonna be a meeting.” she said, looking at you in concern. she knew you'd have a hard time there, Jesse and Maria would be the only people who'd have your back.

“fuck..” you sighed “Maria was here yesterday but she didn't say anything about a meeting.” 

“she didn't want to freak you out.” dina remarked.

you nodded your head and got up, preparing yourself for a long meeting.

“wait.” dina said, walking towards you “let me get that for you.” she pointed to your unbuttoned flannel.

you chuckled at her, feeling like a child, getting dressed by her mother.

she glared at you, warning you to not give her a sarcastic remark. 

she grabbed the arm sling and helped you put it on. “alright all done.”

“thanks mom.” you said, smirking at her. 

rolling her eyes at you, she punched your shoulder playfully.

“you're gonna be a good mom, dina.” you said, with a serious expression now.

she smiled at you and pulled you into a hug “thank you.” 

walking inside the room the meeting was being held in, you noticed the stares you've gotten. some people looked at you in pity while some people glared at you. rolling your eyes at them you sat down on a chair, away from them. 

you didn't need their pity and you sure as hell didn't need their bullshit about bringing back prisoners. 

Ellie walked inside, immediately spotting you and the way people stared at you. she looked at them in annoyance and walked over to you, she was mad at you but she missed you and she wouldn't let you sit there by yourself. 

“hey.” she muttered, sitting down next to you. she eyed the arm sling, a painful expression crossed her face before she looked away.

you looked at her in surprise, not expecting her to come over to you. “h-hi..” you stuttered. 

“you okay?” she asked, without looking at you.

you noticed she had dark circles under her eyes, her skin looked pale and she just seemed tired and exhausted.

“are you okay?” you asked, looking at her in concern.

“I was the one asking you that but I’m fine.” she said, sounding annoyed. 

Nodding your head, you didn't say anything else, you weren't in the mood to get into a fight with her. 

you sat in awkward silence for a while until Maria, Tommy and Jesse finally walked inside, starting the meeting.

you spaced out the second they started discussing about what they should do with abby. you didn't care anymore, after this meeting was over, she would either die or she would spend her life behind bars, either way she wasn't your problem anymore.

you wanted her dead but death didn't seem like the right punishment for her, it was too easy. you wanted her to suffer and you knew she would if she was locked away. 

you knew you would suffer if you would get locked away, you would rather die than having to spent your life in a tiny cell in some basement.

you were so deep in thought that you didn't even realize that most people already left, only Maria, Tommy, Jesse and Ellie were left.

“(y/n)?” Ellie’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts. 

looking up, you noticed they were all staring at you.

“sorry, spaced out..” you said, looking at Ellie you noticed she had a concerned look on her face.

she noticed that you weren't fully there, you were staring at the floor throughout the whole meeting, with a blank expression on your face. she was worried about you.

“most people voted for abby’s imprisonment.” Maria told you. most people except for Ellie and Tommy probably. 

nodding your head you got up “I don't care about what’s happening to her and like you said, most people voted so it’s clear.” you shrugged, turning around to leave, they didn't stop you.

you left the building and went home, not wanting to be outside any longer, you went inside and closed the door but a hand suddenly stopped it from slamming shut “wait.” you heard Ellie say, pushing the door open “can I come inside for a second?”

looking at her you just nodded, wondering about what she wanted from you.

she walked inside and closed the door, she seemed a little tense. she turned around to look at you, her eyes fixated on your arm. 

“I’m sorry (y/n)” she spoke with a soft voice.

“what about?” you asked, still not looking at her.

“I heard about your arm.” she said making you scoff, of course that was what she was sorry for, not for treating you like shit, no she wasn't sorry for that.

“it’s fine.” you said, looking down. 

“no it’s not I- I don't understand how you can just let her live after what she’s done to you.” she exclaimed “I mean fuck (y/n), look at you.” 

she was looking you up and down with an unreadable expression on her face, you usually looked so strong and tough to her but now you just looked fragile and broken, you almost looked empty.

you felt tears well up in your eyes, trying to blink them away, you refused to look at her.

“(y/n)..” she whispered, coming closer to you “look at me..please.” grabbing your face in her hands, you grabbed her hand that was on your cheek, you needed to feel her. 

“babe, I’m sorry about everything but fuck..I can't live with the thought of you living like this for the rest of your life, it makes me so mad.” she said, looking at you with a frown on her face.

“ellie..” you whispered looking into her eyes, a tear slipped down your face, that she immediately wiped away with her thumb “i’m gonna be okay but not without you.” you admitted

“i’m sorry for leaving you alone.” she whispered, looking at you with a painful expression.

“it’s okay just don’t leave me again, I can't be without you.” you admitted

“I won't.” she promised.

you stared into her eyes for what seemed like forever before you leaned in to kiss her lips softly, she immediately kissed you back, grabbing your waist, she pulled you against her tightly.

you missed her and her touch so much, she made you feel alive and needed again. you didn’t care if she still hated you, you just wanted to feel something.

you put your arm around her neck wanting to be as close to her as possible, she started guiding you towards your bedroom without breaking the kiss.

she slammed you against the wall gently, you were getting breathless from the kiss but you didn’t want to stop. her hands started moving down your body, one hand disappeared under your shirt, caressing your skin softly. her other hand grabbed your butt, squeezing lightly.

she broke the kiss and stared at you for a second before she started pressing kisses on your jaw, down to your neck.

“ellie..” you sighed

“yes?” she asked, still kissing your neck softly

“i want to feel you.” you whispered, moaning when she started sucking on your skin. 

pulling away, she was facing you again, smiling at you before she pressed a kiss on your lips and started to guide you towards your bed.

helping you out of your arm sling and your flannel, she immediately started kissing your neck again, pushing you down on the bed, she hovered over you gripping your hip tightly. you almost started moaning at her soft kisses against your neck before she pulled away, opening your eyes you were about to protest but then you saw that she was just taking her shoes off, she got down on her knees in front of you and helped you out of yours before getting up again. she grabbed your chin and made you look up at her, she studied your face, taking in your beauty “you’re so fucking beautiful baby.”

blushing at her words you wanted to look away but her grip on your chin was tight. you suddenly felt nervous.

she leaned down and pecked your lips softly before sitting down next to you, grabbing you by your waist she pulled you on top of her lap, looking up at you, she grabbed your face in her hands and smashed her lips against yours.

you put your arm around her neck and started kissing her back, the feeling of her body against yours made you feel so overwhelmed with emotions, you loved her so much and you never wanted to let go of her.

she bucked her leg against you making you gasp out at the feeling of her thigh against you. she smirked at you, kissing you harder, her tongue met yours making you moan against her.

her hands sneaked down to your shirt, pulling it off you, her eyes widened at your naked chest, she thought you were wearing a bra but she surely wasn’t complaining, “no bra?” she smirked at you

before you could answer her she already started attacking your chest with wet kisses, making you moan at the feeling. you were so aroused already and she didn’t even touch you properly yet. suddenly you felt her tongue on your nipple, gripping her shoulder tightly you couldn’t help but grind down on her thigh, she noticed your movement and immediately gripped your waist tightly, halting your movement.

“baby let me..” she said making you stand up so she could help you out of your jeans. she was still sitting on the bed, looking up at you, she put her finger around your belt loop and pulled you closer, pressing a kiss on your stomach before she helped you pull the rest of your clothes off until you stood completely naked in front of her, she admired you, her pupils dilated at sight of your naked form. “fuck..” she sighed before pulling you back on her lip again. 

she pushed your hair away from your face, pressing soft kisses on your lips, her hand moved down your body, teasing you, her hands gripped your thighs, rubbing up and down, you tried to press them together but Ellie gripped them tightly not allowing you to move, she smirked at you before she started kissing you again, finally you felt her push a finger inside you making you gasp at the feeling, pulling away from the kiss she smirked at you “so wet for me already.” she whispered, making you moan against her mouth when she pecked your lips again, she started moving her finger inside of you, adding a second finger. she pulled away from your lips and went back to pressing kisses on your neck. 

you started grinding against her hand needing to feel more, she started rubbing your clit with her thumb “you look so pretty like that, sitting naked on top of me with my fingers inside you.” she smirked at you.

her words just brought you closer to the edge, she started curling her fingers inside of you making you a moaning mess on top of her “cum for me baby.” Ellie whispered in your ear. 

“fuck..Ellie..” you whined, falling against her, you were breathing heavily, coming down from your high. 

she rubbed your back softly, helping you calm down, her fingers were still inside of you, “baby lay down.” she told you, pulling her fingers out of you, she put them in her mouth, moaning at your taste “fuck I missed this so much, been thinking about that night all the damn time.” she said, taking her clothes off now.

you laid down on the bed watching her pull her shirt off, you loved her so much, she could be a total asshole to you one minute and you'd still end up in her arms the next minute, she had you wrapped around her finger. 

but what you didn't know was that Ellie felt the exact same way, she tried to be mad at you but she just couldn't, no matter what you did, she would always forgive you. all she wanted was to love you and let you feel how much she wanted you.

“you're a goddess baby” she told you, looking at your naked form on the bed, moving on top of you she pressed a kiss against your lip before moving down, she was kissing down your stomach, looking up at you through hooded eyes. she started teasing you again by pressing kissed on your thighs “Ellie please..” you whined, running your hand through your hair. “what do you want baby?” she asked, teasingly. 

“just- fuck me Ellie.” you breathed out

chuckling at you, she pushed a finger inside, “still so wet, you just can't get enough can you?” she asked, with a smug look on her face.

shaking your head, you looked at her in desperation. 

she pulled her finger out of you and started rubbing your wetness over your clit making you jerk up at the feeling, you tried to hold back your moans but it was getting hard, just having Ellie between your legs was reason enough for you to moan. 

she moved her finger back inside and added a second one and started teasing you with her tongue, making you moan out loudly, she started fucking you with her fingers roughly.

you had your thighs around her head and a hand in her hair, you arched your back, the feeling was getting overwhelming now, you were so sensitive but she just kept going, pushing her fingers in and out of you, licking and sucking on your clit. you moaned out her name over and over again.

arching your back you started whimpering when she just kept going even after you came for the second time that night.

“Ellie I can't.” you whimpered, but your body betrayed you when you started grinding yourself against her face.

replacing her tongue with her thumb she pulled her fingers out of you making you whine in protest, she chuckled at you before she started eating you out, curling her tongue inside of you, her nose nudged your clit. 

you weren't even able to control your moans anymore, you were a mess and she wasn't exactly making this easy for you. 

she started rubbing your sensitive clit with her thumb, pushing her tongue in deeper, you started grinding down harder against her, moaning her name, you felt tears slipping out of your eyes, you were so overstimulated. 

“I'm so close fuck...” you whimpered gripping her hair tightly she groaned against you “Ellie...” you moaned out

“cum for me babe.” she said, looking up at you in awe, she could just cum by watching you coming undone beneath her. 

breathing heavily you put your hand over your face, you were sweaty and your body felt so hot, way too hot. 

Ellie started kissing up your body until she was in front of your face again, she pulled your hand away from your face and looked down at you lovingly, smashing her lips against you she made taste yourself on her tongue, making out with you for a while before she laid down next to you and pulled you on top of her, she grabbed a blanket and covered you both with it, kissing your forehead softly. 

you looked up at her, finding her already staring at you “Ellie I- I would do anything for you, if you ask me to do something I'll do it, not matter what it is.” you told her.

she knew what you were talking about and knowing that you would do it for her only confirmed how much you really loved her no matter how much time passed, no matter how much of an asshole she was to you, you loved her.

nodding your head at her she gave you a soft smile, she pushed you down, moving on top of you again, she looked down at you her gaze filled with love and adoration “I love you (y/n).” she whispered, looking into your eyes.

“I love you too Ellie.” you said, pressing a kiss against her lips, she started smiling at you “fuck you're gonna be the death of me pretty girl.” she whispered before she started pressing kisses on your neck.

suddenly you heard loud knocking against your door, groaning in annoyance, Ellie chuckled at you, telling you to ignore it. 

“(y/n) you in there?” you heard Jesse yell from outside. 

“you gotta be kidding me, of course it’s him.” Ellie grumbled in annoyance 

you chuckled at her, pulling her against you “fuck it.” you whispered. 

[the-iceni-bitch]

Happy Fucking New Year!

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Words: 5071

Summary: You and Bucky spend New Year’s Eve together in Paris!

Warnings: Explicit language, explicit sexual content (oral sex (F receiving), unprotected vaginal sex, anal play, cum eating), explicit descriptions of violence, minor character death, SMUT, 18+ only!!!

A/N: Well, my grandma ass passed out while literally writing this fic last night at like 10PM so sorry it’s late! But it’s still New Year’s Day so whatever. It’s kinda fun, I definitely enjoy having Bucky and Sam be complete idiots while our poor reader is the only one with common sense, so you may be seeing a lot of those two fucking things up in this series. Join my taglist here if you’re inclined and a Happy New Year to all you lovely hoes!

“Damn, Barnes. Look at your ass in that tux.”

He choked on his champagne when you snuck up behind him, grabbing one ass cheek and giving it a squeeze before he had a chance to turn around.

He didn’t know how you always managed to catch him off guard.  He was used to being able to pick up on any threat immediately, but you were always able to slip under his defenses.

The expression that came over his face when he finally saw you was priceless. You loved surprising him with shockingly revealing outfits, offending those sweet old man sensibilities he pretended to have in public. But you knew exactly what he was thinking as his eyes drank you in.

The gown you had picked was a deep blue velvet that hugged your curves. While the skirt was tight against your legs, it still could’ve possibly been considered modest. The top though…. The v of the neck wasn’t as deep as your usual style, but the back dipped so low he wondered how you could possibly be wearing panties. All he could think of was snapping those thin straps with his vibranium hand and watching the fabric slide over your soft skin before it pooled around your ankles.

He couldn’t believe the two of you were spending New Year’s Eve in Paris. You’d barely had a chance to speak to each other after your tryst in Stockholm, and now you were together in the city of lights on one of the most romantic nights of the year.

“Hey, Barnes, you still in there?”

“Yeah, sweetheart.” He grinned at you as he watched you take a sip of champagne. “Just wondering where you’re hiding your knives in that dress?”

“Mmm, if this night goes according to plan, maybe I’ll let you look for them later.” You teased him, giving him a wink as you walked your fingers across his chest.

“Alright, that’s enough. You two promised to cool it with the kinky shit over comms.”

The two of you turned to shrug apologetically at Sam, who was glaring murderously at you from across the foyer.

“Sorry Sammy.” You whispered, tittering to yourself.

“Yeah, sorry Sammy.” Bucky gave him a stupid grin as the three of you started slowly moving to one the hallways leading to the main building.

“You don’t get to call me that, Barnes. You keep getting me into these fucking stupid situations, and your poor girlfriend always has to get us out. We were almost home, man, and you just had to follow that shady fucker at the airport.”

“No, he was following me. And anyways, I was right about him. I told you HYDRA had various goon squads lurking around.”

“You guessed.”

“I guessed right.”

“So, you admit it, you guessed!”

“Hey, boys!” You furrowed your brow as you turned to glare at the two of them, a little annoyed at the bickering. “Isn’t there supposed to be a door here?”

They finally shut up and followed your line of sight to where all the intelligence indicated the access door to the arsenal should be located.

Bucky let out a deep sigh and clenched his jaw, his eyes moving up the wall until they found the tiny hatch in the corner, fifteen feet off the floor. He turned his head to Sam and growled.

“You were in charge of reconnaissance. Do you not know the difference between a door and a hatch? Do your little robot minions not know how to take measurements?”

“Hey, don’t blame the robots man! This was based on human intelligence, which I’m pretty sure is your responsibility.”

“Oh, fuck off.”

You ground your teeth together as you listened to the two of them, not sure how you were able to put up with this shit. You took in your surroundings, trying to figure out a way through this situation.

“Well one of us has to get up there.” You murmured to yourself.

“I nominate robot boy.”

“Ok, ya know what, they’re not robots. I might’ve been able to let it go but, heh, I can’t. They’re drones. And if you think me buzzing one of those through the party out there is inconspicuous…”

“Oh, not one of your robots, you. What if I throw you at the hatch?”

One glance at him let you know he was seriously considering throwing your friend at the hatch. You rolled your eyes as you slipped out of your pumps.

“Ok, now you’re trying to piss me off, I just told you they were drones. And you are not throwing me at that tiny door. It’s not even open.”

“Well, if I throw you hard enough, that won’t matter.”

“It’s a solid steel door, dumbass. And I’m pretty sure it opens outward. I vote we come back later with some tools.”

“We’re on a timetable. I say we settle this with some old-fashioned rock, paper, scissors.”

“Um, no, you cheat.”

“How can you cheat at rock, paper, scissors?”

You did your best to tune them out as you stretched, sighing as you gathered your dress up over your thighs and grumbling to yourself about ruining another outfit.

“I don’t know, but you do. Ok, if you use your normal hand, maybe that’ll work.”

“Whatever, I’ll still win.”

You walked back down the hall, then turned and sprinted past the two of them, vaulting off one leg when you reached the corner and using your momentum to spring yourself off the wall until you were able to brace yourself in the tiny alcove next to the hatch.

“Could one of you toss me the laser driver from my clutch?” You called down to them, now that they had finally stopped their incessant arguing.

Sam grinned up at you as he picked your clutch off the ground, tossing the driver to you when he found it.

“Man, every time.” He shook his head at Bucky as you started working on dismantling the door. “I don’t know how your dumbass has survived this long without us, Barnes. You can’t just punch your way through everything.”

“I’m sorry, ‘us’? Seems like she’s doing all the work while you’re just bossy.”

“Can you two just give it a rest? I’m in.” You pulled the hatch open and slid through it, hanging over the edge by your fingertips for just a second before softly dropping on the balls of your feet on the other side. “Fuck, that’s a lot of bombs.”

“What kinds of bombs?” Sam asked over the comms, all business now.

“Well, I’m not an expert, but this sure looks like tesseract related tech to me.”

“Shit.” Bucky hissed. “Any way to disarm?”

“Well, probably, sweetie, but there’s at least 100 of these fuckers, and I don’t really feel like spending all of New Year’s Eve playing ‘which wire?’”

“Alright, just give us a second.”

You heard a yelp from outside and all of a sudden Sam’s torso came flying through the open hatch, his hips catching on the edge.

“Did he just throw you?” You asked, not bothering to hide the grin that spread over you face as Sam looked for something to swing down with. You dragged over an empty shelf and he pulled himself through, climbing down gingerly to come stand beside you.

“Your boyfriend is a fucking menace.” He grumbled, brushing some debris off his shoulders. He whistled through his teeth when he got a good look at the stockpile you had uncovered. “Shit.”

“Fuck me.” Bucky murmured, suddenly behind the two of you, making Sam jump.

“Goddamn it Barnes, why you gotta always be so stealthy?”

“Maybe you just need to pay better attention, what if I’d been a goon?”

“You are a goon.”

“Oh my god, I cannot do another round of this. Sam, can you call this in please? Maybe Sharon will have some idea of what to do about the massive pile of shit we just stepped in.”

“Fine, Y/N. I’ll call the boss.”

You went to examine the bombs more closely. They all seemed to have remote triggers, but you didn’t want to take the chance that they were volatile, so you resisted the urge to pick one up.

“Yeah, this is definitely tesseract tech.” Bucky muttered, and your heart jumped into your throat when you turned to see him tossing one of the bombs into the air and catching it again in his vibranium hand.

“Motherfucker put that down you idiot! What if there had been a pressure sensor?”

Bucky stared at you for a second, then back at the bomb in his hand. “Right, whoops.” He placed it back on the pile gingerly and gave you a sheepish grin.

“I swear to god, the two of you are going to end up getting me killed.”

“Ok, boss said they have a remote drone about one minute out that should have the ability to disarm these. She just wanted us to open the skylight for it.”

“The what?” You hissed at him.

“Uh….”

“There’s a fucking skylight?” You looked up and scoffed, seeing a very large window right there in the ceiling.

“Nice, Wilson.” Bucky just shook his head at him.

“Fuck you, Barnes! You didn’t know about it either.”

“No more! One of you morons get up there and open it!” You were seething. “You’re lucky I like the two of you or I swear to god, I would stab the both of you right now.”

“Alright, rock, paper, scissors?”

“No!! Bucky, just fucking do it.” You screwed your eyes shut and pressed your fingers into the peaks of your eyebrows.

“You got it, beautiful. You’re so cute when you’re mad… shit.”

He had to scramble up one of the shelves as you tried to charge at him, but Sam was able to hold you back at the last second.

“Ok, let’s all just take some deep breaths. It’s all good. The drones on the way. We didn’t have to fight anyone. And there’s still 25 minutes until midnight, so we’ll all get to toast the new year.”

Right as he uttered that last word, a large door on the opposite end of the room opened, and three goons carrying large guns entered.

“Goddamn it, Wilson, you jinxed us. And look, another fucking door!”

“Yeah, they do seem to be popping up everywhere.” He muttered under his breath. “Hey, fellas, we were just…. god, y’know what, I’m too tired to come up with something. Should we just fight?”

You sneered at him before hefting one of the bombs and chucking at the head of one of the guards, hitting him right between the eyes and knocking him out.

“OOHH! What if that had gone off?” Sam yelled at you as you charged the two standing goons who were still standing, diving at the last second to roll one of them over your shoulder.

“Oh, so only you and grandpa are allowed to make stupid decisions, then?” You said, pulling out a knife from under your skirt and trying to stab the guard who was still standing. You were just a little too slow and he dodged you, making you hiss. “Do you mind giving me a hand?”

“Shit, right.” He found a metal pipe leaning against the corner and walked over to where the first guard was starting to come to his senses, bringing it around in an arc to crash against his chin, knocking him out again.

“Drone’s here! Aww man, you guys started a fight without me?” Bucky had climbed back down to find the two of you grappling with your respective opponents.

He walked over and punched the asshole that had Sam in a chokehold in the face with his vibranium fist, feeling a satisfying crunch as he went down. Bucky started to stride over to give you a hand as Sam tried to catch his breath when you suddenly drove your knife up under your opponent’s ribs, giving it a twist before you withdrew it.

“Y’know,” He murmured as he watched you bend over to clean off the blade on the dead man’s jacket. “I’m a little mad at you now. I was looking forward to looking for that later tonight.” He grinned at you, nodding at the knife in your hand as you drew up your skirt to return it to the sheath on your thigh.

“Don’t worry sweetie, there’s plenty hiding under here for you to discover.” You teased him as he pulled you to him, pressing a deep kiss to your lips and moaning against your mouth. He always got so worked up after watching you fight.

“Ugh, I’m still here, you freaks!”

“Shit, sorry Sam!” You flashed an apologetic grin at your friend as he glared at you. Bucky was pulling at the front of his pants and screwing his eyes closed as he tried to fight his obvious erection.

“There’s something wrong with you two.” He muttered under his breath as he started climbing the shelves to leave through the skylight.

The drone had done its job. All the indicator lights on the bombs were off, showing there were no longer armed. You gave a small sigh of satisfaction before looking up at the skylight.

“Gimme a boost, Buck.”

“Yep.” He hooked his hands under one of your heels and grinned to himself as he brought his arms up a little faster than you had intended, flinging you up to the roof in one swift motion and making you yelp.

“You’re such a dick!” You shouted down to him as he started to climb out after you, making him laugh. “What time is it Sam?”

“Hey, we’ve still got 10 minutes to midnight!” He said, giving you a grin.

“Ooh, think we can make it back?”

“Yeah, it’s just a couple rooftops over! Barnes, move your ass!”

Bucky was just climbing onto the roof as you and Sam started jogging towards the adjacent building and cursed under his breath as he clambered to follow you.

Sam let out a whoop as he leaped between the buildings, one of his drones catching him halfway and carrying him to the other side.

“Oh my god was that waiting out here the whole time?” You scolded him as he swooped back to lift you across the gap, depositing you softly on the next roof.

“Yeah, why are you surprised?”

You just gave him a laugh as Bucky flung himself over the space between the structures, rolling in his landing and scowling at the two of you when he regained his feet.

“No thanks, I don’t need any help.” He growled at Sam, voice dripping with sarcasm as he brushed some pebbles off the shoulder of his tux jacket.

“You’re fine.” Sam waved a dismissive hand as the three of you walked to the next edge, which led to your hotel.

You dropped down first to the ledge that was 10 feet below, landing on the balls of your feet and twisting just a bit to gain your balance before you started gliding towards the window to your room.

“You good, Y/N?” Sam called as they watched you crouch as much as you could when you reached the end of the ledge.

“She’s got it.” Bucky muttered as you uncurled your body like a whip, shooting across the gap between the two buildings, latching onto the buttress above your window as you stretched down, your toes reaching for the lower sill. You found your purchase and released one hand to draw the window open, then slipped inside easily. “See?” He gave Sam a grin as he moved to follow you.

It only took the two of them a minute to join you, and you met them with champagne and a pleased smile on your face.

“Hello boys, just in time for the countdown!”

You passed out the drinks and took one for yourself before the three of you headed out to the small balcony that was around the corner from the window you had entered through.

“And 5, 4, 3, 2, 1! Happy New Year!” The three of you shouted.

You heard the city erupt in cheers and fireworks started exploding over the Eiffel tower. Bucky set his champagne flute down and drew you into his arms, bringing one hand up to cradle the back of your head as he pressed his lips to yours. You sighed as you opened up to him, welcoming the crisp taste of champagne on his tongue as he curled it against yours.

“Ooookay, that is my cue to leave.” Sam said, downing the rest of his drink and avoiding making eye contact with either of you as he made his exit.

“Mmm, Happy New Year, Sammy!” You called after him. Bucky just waved a hand at him as his mouth moved down to your neck, his lips trailing over your throat as his other hand pressed against the small of your back.

“Just, remember to take out your comms, I’m begging you.” Sam said before shutting the door behind him.

“Fuck, right.” You plucked yours out of your ear and set it next to your glass as Bucky drew you back into the room, sucking on the curve of your shoulder softly. He released you for just a second to remove his own comm and closed the door to the balcony before turning back to you.

“Oh, that fucking dress.” He growled as he took you in, his eyes dark with desire. “You know, I’ve been wanting to peel you out of that thing all night, you damn cock tease.”

You stepped into him and pressed your hand against the bulge in his pants as you nipped at his bottom lip. “Mmm, your always so good to me when I tease you though, baby. I can’t help it.” You moved your hands up to start undoing his tie. “Besides, I don’t know how you can blame me for teasing you when you’re walking around in this tux. I’ve been wet all night.” You whipped the tie off and started working on the buttons of his shirt as you took his earlobe between your lips and sucked on it.

His hands moved to your ass and squeezed as he ground his hips against you, making you gasp. “Don’t tell me that unless you want me to do something about it. Fuck, are you even wearing anything under here?”

You slid his jacket off his shoulders and followed it with his shirt, running your fingers over his bare torso before starting to undo his belt. “Why don’t you get it off me and find out?” You purred, gazing up at him through your lashes as you drew the belt through the loops and moved to unbutton his fly.

He leered at you and brought his hands up to your shoulders, running the thin straps of your gown through his fingers before snapping them easily. He sighed as he watched the material slither over your curves and pool at your feet. “I fucking knew it.”

You were completely bare under his gaze, aside from the two knife belts you had around your thighs, each of which contained 2 blades.

“Damn it, Barnes.” You scolded him.

“What?”

“Could we have one night where you don’t end up ruining at least one expensive item of clothing?” You sighed, bending over to pick up the dress and shooting him a soft look of reproval.

“Shit, baby. I’m sorry. I get too excited.” He did feel a little bad, but every time you wore something like that, all he could think of was ripping it off you.

“Well, now you’ll just have to make it up to me.” You teased, tossing the dress aside and drawing him closer.

“Yes, ma’am.” He murmured as his fingers moved to start undoing the belts around your thighs. He brushed his lips against the small hollow beneath your ear as he worked, flicking his tongue over the sensitive skin there as his fingers brushed over your legs, making your pussy clench around nothing. “You want me to show you how sorry I am with my tongue?” He set aside the two belts and moved a hand to cup your sex, groaning at how warm and wet he found you.

“God, just fucking do it.” You hissed as he teased a finger between your folds, barely brushing against your heat before withdrawing again.

“Well, since you asked so nicely…” He picked you up and carried you a few feet to lay you on the dining room table, kicking the chairs out of the way with a clatter.

He gave you a searing kiss, taking your breath with him when he withdrew to kneel between your thighs. His stubble tickled at your skin as he moved his lips and tongue up your inner thigh at an agonizing pace, moving to the other thigh when he had almost reached your cunt and making you whine.

“I’m so sorry I ruined your dress, pretty girl.” He finally dragged his tongue over your slit and you let out a low moan, your fingers burying themselves in his hair as he repeated the motion. “Wish I could promise it won’t happen again, but this pussy does things to me.”

He pressed the flat of his tongue against you and drew it over your entrance heavily, slurping up all the evidence of your arousal with an obscene sound before wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking. The whimper you let out made his cock twitch as your thighs clenched around his shoulders, drawing him into you even further.

“God, Bucky, right there.” You murmured as he increased the pressure on your bundle of nerves and inserted two fingers into your cunt, moaning at the feeling of your satiny walls clenching around him. He curled them just a bit and you wailed, arching your back into him as you started whispering “please” over and over like a prayer.

He grinned against you as he shook his head slightly, pressing himself even further into your heat and lapping up the juices that leaked from you as he fucked you with his fingers.

He added a third finger and crooked his wrist just slightly and that was it. Every muscle in your body went rigid as you came against his face, soaking him in your release as you clamped down on his fingers and sobbed with pleasure. You released him slightly, only to spasm again from the aftershocks as your muscles quivered around him. He finally managed to draw himself away and stood between your legs, grinning down as he watched you come down from your orgasm, shivering occasionally as a random jolt of pleasure shot through you.

“You think you can forgive me?” He asked wickedly as he finished undoing his slacks and slid them over his hips, followed by his boxer briefs. He drew his hand over his length as he waited for you to answer, nudging the tip of his cock against your folds and making you yelp.

“Fuck, yes. God Bucky.” You sat up and wrapped your hands around his neck, bringing his face to yours violently. You ground your hips against him, groaning as you felt his shaft slide through your slick easily. He started to lift you to bring you to the bedroom and you shook your head a bit before releasing him. “No, I need it now.”

He grinned at you as he teased his head against your clit, making you whine. “You want me to fuck you right here on the table?”

“God, yes please. Gimme that cock. I need you inside me.” It was driving you crazy. You brought a hand between the two of you and wrapped it around him, making him hiss as you lined him up. “I want you to split me open then fuck me until I can’t breathe.”

He let out a low growl from deep in his chest. He loved when you talked like this. He pushed into slowly with a groan until he was sheathed to the hilt, relishing in the feel of you clenching around him. “Fuck baby, you feel so good. So tight and warm. What else you want me to do to you?” He started moving his hips slowly, grinding them against you each time he was bottomed out.

“Shit,” You were panting with need as he moved inside you, his cock dragging against your g-spot over and over and making it hard to think. “I want your mouth on my tits. God, just like that.” He was following your instructions beautifully, dragging his tongue over the inner slope of your breast as his hips kept up their slow pace. “Fuck, baby, suck on my nipples now.”

He did as you asked, swirling his tongue over the sensitive buds as his lips closed around them, sucking softly and making you whine. He’d always been good at following orders.

“Mmm, move faster.” You commanded, wrapping your fingers in his hair as he continued lavishing attention on your breasts.

He obliged easily, picking up the pace until he was slamming into you, knocking the breath out of you. You met each of his thrusts with your own, mewling as you felt a coil starting to knot in your abdomen.

“God, I’m gonna cum.” You whined.

One more drive of his hips and the coil broke, making you scream. Your fingernails dug into his scalp as you went stiff for just a beat before everything released. He smiled into your neck as you vibrated against him, panting heavily as you came down.

He kept fucking into you like a man possessed. He brought his mouth back up to yours and kissed you softly as he felt you relax a bit. “Did I do good, sweetheart?”

“Yeah, baby, you did great.” You laughed into his mouth as he kept moving.

“You’re in charge, pretty girl. What do you want now?”

“God, work my clit. Fuck, just like that.” You were having trouble focusing as he did what you asked. “I need your mouth on my neck. Hngh, Bucky! That’s so good.”

“What else, beautiful?” he grinned against your throat, loving how easily you were coming apart around him. He picked up the pace with his hips a little more and felt you flutter around him.

“Shit, stick your thumb up my ass.”

He was not prepared for that and his hips faltered for a bit. He whipped his head up to stare at you as he regained his composure.

“What?”

“Ahh, fuck.” You were just a little embarrassed. You usually liked to ramp up to this type of thing, and especially with Bucky, you had wanted go really slow with this particular kink. You didn’t know how much of a thing anal play had been in the 40s. “Um, you can forget I said that.”

To your surprise, he broke out into an absolutely sinful grin and gave you a savage kiss as he laid you back on the table, stilling his hips but keeping himself sheathed in you as he drew your knees up to your shoulders.

“I’ve been dreaming about this ass, baby.” He said as he started moving his hips again, dragging his thumb through the slick that was leaking out around his cock and moving it down until it was pressing against your pretty hole, making you gasp.

“Bucky, don’t tease me.”

“Thinking about this tight little hole wrapped around my cock, I was worried you’d never let me in.” You moaned as he pressed himself through the tight ring of muscle and your eyes rolled up into your skull as you arched yourself into him. “But here you are, giving me a fucking invitation.”

He gave a groan when both your holes clenched around him, and he felt his cock moving in your cunt with his thumb through the thin lining between your passages. He drew himself out halfway and slammed back into violently, the tip of him barely kissing your cervix and making you whine.

His fingers on your clit pressed down hard and you flew apart around him, your orgasm ripping through you with abandon. The scream you let out was otherworldly as you creamed all over his cock.

The sight of you writhing beneath him sent him over his own edge and he shouted your name as his cum spurted inside of you, coating your walls and his dick as he collapsed on top of you.

You were still trembling as aftershocks rippled through your body. He kissed your neck and pulled out of you gently. You barely noticed, you were so fucked out.

“Shit sweetheart.” He muttered as he drew himself up. “This body treats me so fucking good. Damn, look at that.” He drew your knees apart and stared appreciatively at you pussy, still clenching as you came down. His cum was slowly leaking out of you and dribbling over your puckered hole. “Let’s clean you up.”

You had expected him to go get a towel, but he knelt down and dragged his tongue over first your asshole, then your slit, making you sob as he lapped up the mixture of your releases. When he drew his tongue over your clit, you came again immediately, it was so overstimulated.

“Fuck, you ok, Y/N?” He hadn’t expected you to be that sensitive and was worried he might have overdone it. He brought himself back up to look you in the eyes, cupping one cheek in the palm of his hand as he studied your face with concern.

“God, Bucky, I’m fucking great.” You gave him a sloppy grin as you stared up at him, turning your head to press a kiss into the palm of his hand. “I don’t think I can walk though.” Your legs were jelly.

He just laughed and scooped you into his arms, carrying you into the bedroom and laying on the bed. He covered you with the sheets and pressed a soft kiss to your temple before heading into the bathroom to clean himself up. He was only gone for a minute before he was sliding behind you and wrapping you in his arms.

“Happy New Year, beautiful.” He whispered into your hair as you drifted off to sleep, drowsy now that you were surrounded with his warmth.

“Happy fucking New Year, Bucky.” You murmured before you dozed off, blissfully satisfied.

Permanent Tags:

@drabblewithfrannybarnes​ @starlightcrystalline​ @stargazingfangirl18​ @buckysnumberonegirl​

[quillsandtypos]

Nighttime Confidence

Summary: reader and the band are having a sleepover in Julie's studio and the late hours are starting to get to the reader

Pairings: luke patterson x reader

Words: 1.9k

Warnings: lil bit of cussing and tickling and the reader doing a minorly dangerous stunt

"Oh my god I'm gonna fucking die," you groaned.

Luke pretended to be hurt. "Do you really not trust me that much?"

"Yes!"

"Maybe I'll just drop you on purpose," he offered.

"Don't you dare," you said, backing up a couple steps.

He grinned at you and pulled you back, "Trust me you're gonna be fine," he assured you.

It wasn’t that you didn’t trust him, you just didn’t trust that you were going to land on his shoulders, without breaking anything.

But your worries began to fade into more of an anticipation as your friends watched you with excited looks on their faces. Besides, you were doing it in front of a couch for a reason, right?

“Okay, I’ll do it,” you reluctantly agreed.

“Yes!” cried Reggie.

Julie just facepalmed, “I’m not sure if it would be better to watch or just look away.”

“Julie, you gotta watch, you’re the only alive person here who could save me,” you realized.

“Like I was gonna let this happen without recording it anyways,” she scoffed.

You shrugged, ”Fair enough.”

“Alright y/n you ready?” Luke asked, squatting lower to the ground.

You didn’t know if it was the fact that it was three am, or that the coffee was kicking in, or if your boyfriend's confident energy was contagious, but suddenly you felt like you could conquer anything. “I don’t know, are you ready Patterson?”

He quickly yet slyly winked at you before motioning to jump.

“Ready, set, GO!” Reggie yelled like a car girl in nascar.

You took off at a bit of a run before attempting to bounce off the pillows and onto Luke’s shoulders. As you soared through the air for a moment you could’ve sworn you heard Alex yell ‘I can’t watch this!’. But only seconds later you came in a rather harsh contact with the couch.

You groaned, but quickly got up so as to not worry any of your band mates.

“Y/n are you okay?” Alex worried.

“Yes Alex I’m fine, really, that’s why we put the couch there,” you giggled.

“How many fingers am I holding up?” Luke asked.

“Technically none since usually that theory only applies to living people, but you’re holding up three,” you concluded.

Reggie couldn’t help but laugh. “Yeah, I think she’s fine.”

Luke smirked at you. “Maybe a little too fine.”

“What is that supposed to mean beanie boy?” you teased back. You were getting used to your so-called midnight confidence.

“Oh so that’s how you wanna play it?” he asked, arching an eyebrow.

“I’ve been playing it, it just took you a while to catch up,” you taunted. Julie snorted and gasped before slapping her hand over her mouth.

As your eyes went back to Luke, you realized your first mistake was taking your focus off of him considering he was running right at you. You yelped before vaulting the couch.

You now had it separating the two of you.

“Come on y/n which way you wanna go?” he sang.

The look he was giving made you want to melt into a puddle of embarrassed goop but that was not a realistic solution, so you would have to come up with something a little more tangible.

You looked around the area to scan for something helpful, the instruments were put away; the other three were on the other side of the room, and had not bothered to get up from the floor to watch, and the studio doors were shut.

Luke recognized your analyzing face. “You can’t outrun me, I’m a ghost remember?”

Your nighttime confidence had a second wave. “No, but I can try.” You vaulted back over the couch and went running as fast as you could in the opposite direction of Luke. You made it about five steps until you felt his hands wrap around your midsection. Another yelp escaped your lips.

He quickly threw you over his shoulder, not unlike a sack of potatoes.

You tried to sound angry but you couldn’t stop laughing for the life of you. “Put me down!” you insisted.

Luke pretended he couldn’t hear you, but suddenly you got an idea. You stretched downwards to taser his sides. The minute you did he nearly dropped you, but he managed to muffle his laughter.

“Now that’s just dirty,” Luke commented.

“Says the one holding me like a potato sack, asshole” you quipped.

“She’s got a point with that one,” Julie chirped up.

Luke pretended to scowl at her but she just stuck her tongue out at him.

Luke finally put you back down on the ground.

“Thank you?” You were highly suspicious that he gave up that easily, and from the looks on your bandmates faces it looked like they didn’t believe him either.

“You’re welcome,” he said innocently, but his wide mouthed grin showed an ulterior motive; though you weren’t quite sure what that was yet.

You cautiously moved back to the rest of your friends. You didn’t take your eyes off of him until you were safely planted in between Reggie and Julie.

“So if Luke promises not to attack anyone, do you guys wanna watch a movie?” Julie suggested, and threw him a fake glare.

“All of you guys were clearly entertained by that, so you can’t even pretend to be mad at me,” Luke concluded.

“No, I’m pretty sure that was just you,” Alex retorted.

“And I’m pretty sure we can,” Julie accidentally finished.

Luke held his hands up in surrender, realizing he was very outnumbered. “Alright, you’ve proved your point.”

“So movie night?” Reggie asked.

“Definitely, but what do we want to watch?” Julie wondered aloud.

“Can I vote for Star wars?” Reggie hinted.

“That’s fair, anybody else have any ideas?” she asked.

“Oh, we could watch an animated disney movie?” Alex suggested.

“Which one, isn’t there like a shit ton of them?” Luke looked to you and Julie for help.

“Yeah, they have a lot,” you confirmed.

“So either disney or star wars?” Alex echoed.

“Technically they are both disney since disney owns star wars now,” you pointed out.

“They what now?” Reggie gasped.

Alex and Luke exchanged a nervous glance.

“Oh, sorry, yeah they bought them out in 2012,” you explained.

“Well now we gotta watch a star wars movie to see if they’re even good anymore!” Reggie exclaimed.

Julie scrunched up her eyebrows before agreeing. “Alright, Star Wars movie it is, I guess.”

Soon enough you were all scattered across the studio floor in a big pile of blankets and pillows, as the Rise of Skywalker played on the 'hologram projector'. Who would’ve thought that movie night was the real use of it?

Reggie seemed to be enjoying himself. It did take a little bit of explaining and some googling to get him caught up on the twenty five years that he missed, but he seemed to be fully engrossed in the movie.

Julie had never seen any Star Wars movies, so she was a little lost at first, but she seemed to really like the characters. Alex was half asleep near Reggie, it seemed like he was enjoying the movie, but the drummer was obviously very tired. Luke was propped up against the back of the couch, and you were sitting next to Julie.

You looked back at him to exchange a quick glance before turning back to the movie. You saw Julie watch you with an amused look in her eyes.

“What?” you softly asked.

“Go!” Julie whisper yelled to you.

“What?” you whispered.

“Go sit with your boyfriend.” She motioned back at him.

“No, I told you I was going to sit with you,” you insisted.

She narrowed her eyes. “Then why are you making googly eyes at him?” she asked.

You pulled your jaw back up. “I was not!” you defended.

Julie grinned, “Trust me, I think I can manage by myself up here, go back with him.”

“I’m not just gonna abandon you like that,” you argued.

“Y/n I love you, but so help me if you don’t go sit with him you are going to end up as a ghost really soon,” Julie threatened.

Not really wanting the wrath of Julie upon you, you picked up your blanket to move beside Luke.

“Hey princess,” he greeted you.

“Hi handsome.” You placed your head on his shoulder.

“You wanna know something y/n?” Luke asked.

“Mmm hmm, what’s that?”

“Reggie already watched this movie, he just wanted to watch it again because you seemed to like it,” Luke divulged.

You furrowed your brows. “You’re kidding right?”

“Nope, he binged all of them the second he heard there were more.”

“Wow, we must be really good friends if he’s willing to give up the first trilogy for me,” you commented. While it was intended as a joke, it didn’t mean you didn’t see the sentiment behind it.

“We all love you, you know that. And you love us,” he whispered.

“That’s true, and most especially you.” You placed a quick kiss on his lips but even the small moment gave you a warm feeling through your body.

“Hey y/n?” he asked.

“Yeah?”

“Do you remember earlier?”

You thought for a moment about what the hell he could be talking about until you saw the devilish smirk on his face, and you realized that you had yet again made a mistake.

Before you could make a move to get away he had already pulled you on top of him.

He pulled your shirt up slightly.

“Don’t you dare tickle me,” you threatened.

“I mean I wasn’t going to do that, but now that you mention it.” As he trailed off you felt a hand start to glide across your stomach and your breath hitched in your throat.

“I whihll khihhill yhohhuhu,” you giggled out. You were trying to be as quiet as possible so you wouldn’t wake Alex.

“You do know I’m a ghost, right?” he reminded you.

You choose not to answer that one in favor of holding your mouth shut so your laughter would stay in.

“You know what ghosts are really good at though-” he paused; you were absolutely certain you could hear his smile.

“Ghosting.”

You felt his fingertips lightly make contact with your hip bones. You tried to squirm away but Luke was strong, and he had a good hold on you. But when you felt his hands start to glide across your hips, you grew desperate enough that you managed to roll off of him.

He looked rather smug at your giggly smile as you laid on the floor.

“I hate you,” you breathed out.

Luke almost let out a loud laugh at that one. “As tempting as it probably is, no you don’t.”

“No, no I don’t,” you admitted with a sparkle in your eyes.

You crawled up to him again. “Because I will always love you.”

He looked into your eyes with a serious demeanor. “I love you too, always.”

“Good, so we both agree that we’re stuck with each other,” you joked.

Luke placed his head on your shoulder. “Forever and ever y/l/n.”

You rested yours against his. “Forever and ever Patterson.”

[venactricisfics]

Malibu Desert

@just1bri @redwolfs-world @wonderlust75 @queenbeered

@sickofbitches

Master List

It was supposed to be settled.

Twenty

“So how much should I order for the party next week?” I analyze the list of food, booze, and supplies I had to order for EZ’s patch party. Or I suppose depending on the vote it would be a normal Friday night party at the clubhouse. Bishop didn’t or couldn’t tell me which way the club was leaning. I saw how proud he looked when EZ did things for the club. The way he would handle club business.

And EZ had become his prospect. I heard some of the stories about Angel being his sponsor in the beginning and how blood and the patch were getting confused. I had a feeling there was more to the story. But that’s all I could get out of any of them.

“I think it’ll just be the club,” Bishop pulls my hair from my neck to press his lips there. “But could be more. Maybe getting another delivery from SAMCRO. Ramos and Canche texted me and are coming down too. Don’t know if they’ll still be here for that.” His fingers work the muscles in my back, “You don’t have to do all this, querida. That’s what we have prospects for.”

“I won’t let EZ plan his own party,” I let my eyes close and I just feel his hands and lips on me. “It wouldn’t be fair.”

“You don’t know if it’s gonna be EZ’s party, Hermosa,” his hand dips down the front of my shirt. I let out a soft moan as his fingertips danced over my nipple. Bringing it to a hardened peak. My head falls back against his chest and I let him distract me from my task. A welcome distraction.

Or it would have been until the shrill of both of our phones pulled us from our activities. I would have ignored it but no one called me, not unless it was important. And the number that popped up on the screen was from Charming.

I couldn’t hear the words from the other end of Bishop’s line but I heard the familiar Scottish accent. And on mine, I got Montez, the Road Captian, from SAMCRO. I met him briefly in Charming a few months ago. “Chibs wants a sit-down,” he says.

“I know, he’s on the phone with Bishop now,” I respond, “What’s this about?”

“Just about our mutual business dealings,” he stated. Guns. The email I got from Declan a few days ago said as much without saying anything at all.

“I get it, but this is more club business, isn’t it?” I quirk a brow as I stand from my seat. Bishop had paced off to have a more discrete conversion with the SAMCRO president.

“You should be there,” he says, “Chibs wants you there.”

“OK,” I responded, “I’ll be there. I’ll leave it to the club to make the arrangements.” Without another word, I end the call. I hear Bishop’s boots on the hardwood floor behind me.

“Church?” I ask and he nods,” Well there goes our quiet morning.” I stand up from the kitchen table, my hands cup his face, and press my lips to his. “Just let me know where we’re heading and for how long once you know. I need to get a shower and get ready. Then I can meet you at the clubhouse.”

“I still don’t like you involved in the shit we do,” he tells me. It wasn’t something I pressed. I stayed back dealing mainly with the back-end stuff, letting Chibs and Declan handle the stuff on the ground.

“I know,” I wrap my arms around his neck and just hold him for a brief moment before letting him leave to do club business.

---

I toss an overnight bag in the back of my SUV. Just a couple changes of clothes for me and Bishop just in case. Text from Taza said we were meeting at a lodge at 8. Leaving from the clubhouse at 2. Club messages were always cryptic. No details, just exactly what I needed to know. And only what I needed to know.

I pulled into the parking lot of the scrapyard. “Jefe wants you to ride in the van with me,” Creeper says as he takes my bag.

“Why?” I ask sharper than intended, “No offense.”

“I don’t ask questions,” he replies, “but he’s inside.”

“You’re putting me in the van?” my eyes narrowed as I walked inside, word oozing with irritation. Bishop was sitting at the table with Taza and Hank.

“Drop the tone and sit the fuck down,” Bishop’s eyes dark as he looks back at me. I let out a breath as I took a seat. Something about his commanding voice did something to me. I didn’t want to feel a pooling between my thighs when he talked to me that way but it happened. I wanted to be pissed at him for talking to me that way, but my body betrayed me.

“Alright,” I tuck a curl behind my ear, “Why am I riding in the van and not with you?”

“Me and my guys have to be on a united front,” he replied, “ with the Kings and the Reaper. No weakness.”

“So I make you weak?” my voice is shakier than I would like.

“You make me unfocused,” he stated, “we get there I’ve got to go up against the Cro and keep my shit together with the Kings. Can’t afford distractions.”

"I'm not planning a striptease or anything, I'm just going to be there," I straighten up in my seat, finding my voice again, "to protect my family's interest," My eyes lock with Bishop's, "Both of my families interests."

"You being there is enough," Bishop replied his voice slightly softer. "Ride up there in the van, querida."

"Ok," I conceded, "I suppose there won't be time for me to clean up before the meeting."

I watch out the windshield, the bikers' formation. It's different than I'd experienced before. The poetry was still there but I was no longer a part of it. Just a spectator. El Presidente flanked by his VP and his Sergeant at Arms, Gilly, Coco, and Angel road behind them EZ still took the rear.

"We'll be there soon, chica," Creeper's voice interrupts my thoughts. "Not as far as the last time we road together."

"Sorry, I haven't been the better riding companion," I tell him.

"Don't worry about it, I get it. My ol' lady never listens to me either," he chuckled.

"I didn't know you had a girl," I quirk a brow.

"She works nights so doesn't come to the clubhouse often," Creep responds. "She is her own woman, like you. She ain't like the club hang arounds."

"She sounds like a keeper," I smile at him, "I guess I do need to pick my battles. Club stuff can get complicated. Especially when emotions and business is involved.”

"Bish just wants to keep you safe. We all do," Creeper pulls the van to a stop.

"I know," I watch as my boys file their bikes into a parked row outside of the lodge. "I appreciate it. Even when I don't."

I adjust my boobs and slide my feet into a pair of heels. One benefit of riding in the van, the ability to wear my favorite strappy heels. I swing the door open and step out. The lodge is woody and manly. Very appropriate for the situation.

I smile at the feel of a familiar hand resting on the small of my back, "Let's get inside, Hermosa." I nod in return. Inside the scent of leather, smoke, and whiskey filled my nose. I stand nodding as Bishop and Taza go over the plans with the tribe leaders.

"If it isn't Bishop's Princesa irlandesa," Oso Ramos kisses my cheek before embracing Bishop in a bro hug.

"You remember Canche?" Bishop nods to the Yuma President.

"Nice to see you again," I offer a smile as I hug the man. Over the next half hour or so I hugged and kissed my way through another dozen or so burly bikers. I took my place at Bishop's side. I was given shows of respect being the ol' lady of a Mayan King. And the representative of the Irish Kings. This world embraced me in a way that the one I'd come from never had before.

"What'll you have to drink?" one of the guys asks.

"Whiskey and cranberry, please," I respond. The glass was handed to me an instant before the front doors of the lodge swing open and SAMCRO saunters through.

"Who do ya gotta fuck ta get a drink around here?" Chibs baritone unmistakable. The lips of the kings spread into a smile as they step up to welcome the Reaper crew. We have a drink then make our way into the conference room. The table stretched the length. SAMCRO seated on one side, Chibs shouldered by Happy, Montez, and the biggest biker I’d ever seen in my fucking life, Rane Quinn. The Mayan Kings sat on the other flanked by Taza and Hank.

My shoulders pushed back I keep my head held high as I take my seat at the head of the table. I couldn’t show that I was taking sides. Though clearly, I did have a bias. I listened as Chibs explains the delay in trading off the guns to the Mayans.

“The North Cali port authority has made the decision for us,” Chibs said, “they’re closing down the Mendocino port. The Irish have nowhere to bring their guns.”

“Shit,” Bishop says snuffing out his cigarette.

I look between the men and add, “There’s another shipment coming in two weeks but after that, until we find a new dealer. I talked to the Irish Kings,” I look from Bishop to Canche and Oso, then to Chibs, “I asked them to give us a little time to work out a new import strategy. SAMCRO has come up with something that could keep our business dealings going.”

“Sorry to drop this all on ya laps boys,” Chibs looks directly at Bishop. “But that’s the way it is.”

“You wanna bring ‘em South,” Bishop responds, “that’s why my crew is here.”

“Aye,” Chibs states, “way south. There’s an MC that runs the port down in Tijuana.”

“The Vatos Malditos,” Alvarez adds. The name didn’t ring the same recognition that it did for Bishop and the rest of my Mayans.

Bishop leans forward in his chair, “Shit, we just had a little run-in with the VM. I didn’t end well.”

“Well, fuck,” Chibs responded. I searched my recent memory for what the hell had happened and met Coco’s gaze.

“That thing with Letty?” I asked. He nodded his agreement.

“Their Prez is a friend of mine,” Montez adds, “He didn’t mention any beef.”

“You already talked to them?” Bishop asked.

“Aye, we had to make sure we could make a deal,” Chibs responded, “They’re coming up here.”

“You’ve got to be shitting me?” Hank grunted.

“If Palo didn’t mention it,” Montez states, “It means he’s willing to sit down and meet. Nothing is going go down while we’re here.”

“Is there any way things can be worked out with the VM?” I cut my eyes to Bishop then back to Chibs and Montez.

Bishop eyes Hank then talks softly to Canche and Oso. Reluctantly he sighs, “They come to the table we’re willing to talk, we are willing to listen.”

“It’s a beautiful thing,” Chibs responds. “Now until they get here I need another fucking drink.” I hang back at the table feeling a touch out of place as the guys filed out of the room. I couldn’t or wouldn’t try to influence Bishop’s decision but I knew that if this deal didn’t pan out, I could be cut out of my family’s business. And the business was my last remaining connection to my father.

“Yo, Malibu,” Angel’s voice interrupted my inner dialog. “Come outside and have a smoke.”

I looked up at him confused, “What are you talking about? I don’t smoke.”

“You look like you could use one,” he responded, “Or a good fuck but Bish is occupied with the Kings and can’t accommodate you right now.”

“You are an ass,” I stand up from the table and walk with him outside. The pounding of fist against flesh fills my ears, EZ on the ground punching the face of another Mayan.

“What the fuck?” Angel says, “He can’t hit a patch.”

“He can if I tell him to,” Coco responds.

“That’s fucked up, he put fucking hands on us,” the larger of the other Mayans shouts.

“He’s obeying orders,” Coco states with a smirk. I stand back watching this display of masculinity with a smile of my own. It was a welcome distraction from everything else that was going on.

“Y’all wanna bother the Kings with this petty shit right now?” Angel asks. EZ breathes hard stepping back. He got whatever it was that was in his system out.

I place my hand on his chest, “You good?”

“Yeah,” he responds, “I needed that.” EZ shrugs off and moves over with his brother.

I step past him and take a look at the guy he was fighting, his face bloody. “What’s your name, sweetheart?”

“Dolla,” he answers, “We just fucking with the Prospect.”

I show him my hands as I step closer to him, “Doesn’t matter why. Let me check your face. Make sure nothing’s broken.” I hold his face in my hands, my thumb moves lightly down the bridge of his nose, then over his orbital bone, and along his cheekbones. “You’ll be fine. I’d suggest you go around back to the bathroom to wash up. Don’t want your Prez to find out you lost a fight to a Prospect.”

I give him a wink then follow Angel, EZ, Coco, and Riz back inside. “Is the smoke pad always that exciting?” I ask as I catch up with them.

“All the time,” Riz says with a smile, “why I haven’t quit yet.” I take a seat on the arm of the oversized leather couch beside Bishop, his hand moves to possessively rest on my thigh.

“You ok, querida?” he reaches up wiping blood from my face with his thumb.

“It’s not mine,” I take the napkin offered, “One of the Tempe guys had an accident outside. I just checked him out.”

“The Vatos are here,” Hank says as he enters the room. We all stand, Bishop directing me protectively behind him. The tension in the air was palpable. I could see Bishop’s jaw tighten when Chibs spoke softly to them. My own heart raced but I stood firm. Weakness wouldn’t be acceptable in this room full of Alpha males.

We file back into the conference room. This time Chibs took a seat with Montez at the head, the VM on one side then the Mayans on the other. The room filled so fully men were lining the walls. The VM leader glared at me as I made my way to the foot of the table. Dolla from Tempe sporting the beginnings of a black eye slides the chair out for me.

“I can work with Santo Padre to schedule with the Irish,” I started.

“VM unloads and stores,” Chibs continues, “then transports to the East Cali border. We think 30% is fair to cut them in for.”

“Agreed,” Bishop responds.

“I won’t take orders from a woman,” El Palo barks.

“One word from this woman,” I narrow my eyes in his direction, “and this whole bloody deal is done. The Irish Kings would be more than happy to find another dealer to handle their business. And you can go back to scamming lost sheep.”

“Calm down,” Chibs says, “the both o’ ya. Ms. O’Shay is here at the request of the Irish. And will be here as long as they wish it.” I lean back in my seat listening as they discuss numbers and cuts. None of this concerned me. Not until they started talking about the Mayans paying restitutions.

“You lost men because you came in our fucking backyard,” Bishop said firmly. “What the fuck did you think was gonna happen?” My heart began to race again.

“The Mayans killed nine of my fucking men,” El Palo said.

“You were wrong,” Taza shouted.

“Can we just say that you both were fucking wrong?” Chibs states and looks over to the Mayan side of the table, “You’ve got to put something on this table so we can get the fuck outta here.”

After whispering with Canche and Oso, Bishop offers, “We’ll match SAMCRO’s 5%.”

“Fuck that!” El Palo yells, “20%!”

“Fuck you!” Bishop shouts. The men on both sides of the table stand up squaring off. Happy pulls his piece from his kutte.

“Jesus Christ! Fuck!” Chibs shouts still sitting in his chair at the head of the table. “You fucking Mexicans you make us Scotts look sensible. Gentleman get your fucking dicks off the table this is a fair deal.” Bishop and the Kings nod and everyone takes their seats again.

“I’m glad we can all come to a peaceful understanding,” I state. “Slainte!” I down my glass and the rest of the Mayans and Vatos join in reluctant acceptance. I hang back as the men file out. The VM exits the front and SAMCRO out the back. The men say their goodbyes.

Bishop laces his fingers with mine as we head back inside. “It’s a good thing what you did in there, hermosa.” He presses his lips to my temple.

“It wasn’t so hard,” I gave his hand a squeeze with a smile. “I’m used to handling angry Mexicans.”

“Don’t worry, querida,” he smirks, placing my hand on his member through his jeans, “I got plenty for you to handle.”

“I know you do,” I give him a kiss and a gentle squeeze. We sit and have a few more drinks. Music plays over the speakers. The playfulness of the evening was cut short but the sound of an explosion outside.

“Stay there,” Bishop jumps to his feet following the crew outside. I hung back, staying just inside the door a bike was on fire. I jump at the sound of machine gunfire. It seemed to come from all directions.

“Taz, Nova get down,” Riz shouts. I saw El Palo’s eyes clearly, he was focused on his assault. Riz took the shot and fell back on top of me. I never knew the man could be so heavy. I kept down. I heard Bishop’s voice yelling, his gun firing. All of their gun’s firing.

I shifted out from under Riz when the gunfire stopped. “Riz,” I place my fingers on his neck finding a weak pulse. Labored breathing. My hands moved down his chest and applied pressure to the wound. “Call an ambulance!”

I couldn’t think anymore, I just held pressure on his wound.

“Nova,” Creeper’s voice, “you’re bleeding.”

“It’s not my blood,” I muttered. Not sure if the shock or the adrenaline wore off but I felt a sharp pain in my shoulder.

“Lay back, sweetheart,” Taza’s voice soothed me, “Get a fucking ambulance now!” I could feel the color leave my face as I fell back. My hands were covered with blood. A mixture of Riz’s and my own. The room spun and went dark as I heard the approaching sirens.

[argylemnwrites]

Fight or Flight  - Chapter 15: Hiccup

Pairing: Drake Walker x MC (Riley Liu)

Book: The Royal Heir (canon divergent from the end of book 2)

Word Count: ~4300

Rating: PG-13 (brief language)

Summary: Almost four weeks since The Walker Absconding

Author’s Note: And we’re back! Since it’s been ages... Previously on Fight or Flight - Hana had learned that Barthelemy and Godfrey were working with Auvernal from Kiara, but Liam didn’t seem motivated to take much action regarding that fact. Leo had gotten money and belongings to Riley, who shared an intimate moment with Drake when she returned to their hotel.

This series follows the Walkers, their friends, and Cordonia as a whole after they flee the country with their daughter during Barthelemy Beaumont’s attempted coup. To catch up on this series, check out it’s masterlist. (link can be found via my bio - sorry, Tumblr is once again not putting my posts with links in tag searches)

Liam let out a sigh as he changed the channel back to CBC. He needed to be actively watching, probably should be taking notes, in all honesty. This hour of programming consisted of discussion with three of the most connected political pundits in the country. It was the easiest and most reliable way to get a feel for the leanings of both the journalists and the common citizens, and it aired every weekday, so it was far more up to date than waiting for the biweekly polling.

The issue was that the panelists were revelling in the recent turn of events with such glee. It was understandable, he supposed. This was the most exciting political turn of events this country had seen in centuries. It put the mild speculation that he was Bridget’s biological father, a rumor had surfaced around the time of his announcement that Drake and Riley’s child would be heir and had briefly flared again at Bridget’s first public appearance when people had seen that she indeed looked like a child with some East Asian heritage, to shame. This wasn’t just baseless gossip and stirring the pot to increase ratings. This was true turmoil, plain and simple. There was a relative unknown carrying the power of the Crown, the current Queen-regent had been “kidnapped” and not seen in weeks, citizens were protesting daily, and this was all expected to last for months until the Conclave, where all the tension and drama would culminate in a vote among the five major noble houses to name a new monarch. The journalists and talking heads had a seemingly endless feast in front of them. All of it at his expense.

He took another sip of his scotch as he tried to focus on the screen ahead of him. If he could figure out how to gain a majority of the public’s support, then he could apply some pressure to Kiara and Landon prior to the Conclave vote. Not that he was naive enough to think that would be enough to assure that he would regain his title, but at least it would be one more piece of ammunition in his arsenal.

“The protests outside of the Capital aren’t going to be as easily quieted as the ones in Valtoria, Victor,” Francine Giorano stated, leaning forward and gesturing across the table to Victor Blussé. Blussé was the moderate on the panel, while Giorano was a staunch traditionalist. “They have had fears about the role the essentially-American Walkers played in our government for years, and look how right those fears turned out to be.”

“How is any of this the Walkers’ fault, Francine? This can all be traced to Barthelemy Beaumont!”

“The Conventus Nobilis was written into our foundational laws for a reason, Victor,” chimed in Willa Hyllop, the final member of the panel, added to the program in the past year to bring in a more modern, pro-democratic viewpoint.

“Surely you aren’t saying you are on the side of Beaumont, Willa! He represents an even less progressive faction than Liam Rys ever did.”

“I may not agree with everything he stands for, but I will always support measures that place some checks and accountability on our monarchy,” said Hyllop with a shrug. “Besides, the fact that Rys surrounded himself with yes-men and granted titles and appointments on the basis of friendship since he ascended the throne did little to convince me that he was the ‘progressive king’ he swore he was. He was more of the same, just without the aggressive rhetoric of his father.”

“And look how that turned out! Lest we forget, he stood by while Auvernal brought warships to our shore last year,” added Giorano.

Liam closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Giorano and Hyllop were never on the same page about anything, and here they were, agreeing that he had been an ineffectual king. He tuned out Blussé’s response, knowing that some lukewarm rebuttal from him was going to do little to bolster his confidence. The fact was simple - his fall from grace was widespread. There were few left who saw him as worthy of the title of king. He had failed, completely and entirely.

 “Liam?” Olivia’s voice cut over the television. 

Liam opened his eyes to find her staring at him from the lounge’s doorway, a frown cutting across her face. He forced a smile as he gestured for her to join him. “Just taking a little break from hearing how incompetent I am.”

Olivia’s green eyes narrowed at his poor attempt at humor, but she strode over to him, joining him on the couch, undoubtedly taking in the blank notepad, the untouched stacks of documents, and the glass of liquor that sat on the table in front of him. “Well, that’s the perception we’re going to have to work to change.”

He tipped his head to rest along the back of the couch, sighing as he did so. “I know, Liv. It just seems so impossible at the moment.”

She didn’t say anything for several excruciating seconds. He rolled his head to the side, taking in her face, concerned eyes boring into him as she slid a hand around her neck, her blood-red nails digging into her skin. “We’ve got months still, Liam. Calling our goal impossible is premature.”

“You’re right. I know you’re right, and I’m all ears if you have any recommendations for where to start.”

“Well, I got confirmation that Landon and Emmeline’s driver is loyal to us, so Ray is going to approach him at the Derby this weekend to see if he might be willing to earn a little extra cash by divulging some secrets. And their new head of kitchen has a brother with significant gambling debts, so that’s another lead worth pursuing.”

“Sounds good, Olivia.”

“Now, as far as next steps for you, I was hoping you might give reporters a few minutes for questions before the derby.”

Liam swallowed, his brain scrambling to come up with a reason, any reason, against her suggestion, when his phone vibrated on the table, the name “Bastien” flashing across the screen.

“Why is he calling you?” Olivia asked. All Liam could do was shrug as he leaned forward, grabbing his phone and swiping to accept the call.

“Bastien?”

“I don’t have long,” he started, not even taking the time for a greeting. “I don’t know if you are in touch with Drake, but if you are, you need to let him know that they need to get out of Athens.”

“What are you-”

“Rashad is negotiating with Greek authorities right now to allow the King’s Guard to be the ones to make the arrest. We are waiting on the tarmac for clearance to fly to Athens.”

“How-”

“He’s requesting Greek surveillance of their hotel until we get there. They need to leave now.”

“Bastien, what-”

“I have to go.” And then, the line was dead.

Liam sat there, numb and frozen, trying to process the slew of information that had just been dumped into his lap by his former head of security. 

“What the hell is going on?” Olivia’s voice drew him out of his daze, prompting him to set down his phone on the couch, digging frantically through the stacks of papers.

“I need my burner.” He heard his voice as if he were an outsider observer. It was thin and shaky, frail and panicked. His hands shook as he felt around the table in front of him, knocking over a pile containing reproductions of the accounts of the last Conclave, dozens of papers spilling onto the floor.

“Liam, what the fuck did he tell you?”

“They know where they are. We have to warn them.” All his frustrations and pain related to Drake and Riley suddenly felt so petty, so ridiculous. The stakes were higher for them, always had been higher for them. They were about to get arrested over wanting to keep custody of their daughter. And while they left him to fend for himself, left Cordonia in a state of political upheaval, he knew that was a price that was wildly unfair.

“Who knows where they are? Rashad?”

“Yes,” said Liam, shoving more and more documents around the table. Where was his burner?

“How does he know?”

“I don’t know! Where the fuck is it?” Liam swiped his arm across the table, books and papers flying, the sound of glass breaking echoing through the room as his scotch tumbled to the ground.

A strong set of fingers with sharp red nails slid around his wrist, holding him still. He took a rough breath as he turned to face Olivia, who was eyeing him as she tugged her own burner out of her pocket, only breaking his gaze to glance down at the screen, tapping three times before holding it to her ear and looking back at Liam.

The few seconds of silence on her end were maddening, but then she was speaking, her voice curt and all business. “Drake, authorities are coming. You gotta go. Now.”

Liam tried to rein in his rapid breathing, tried to calm his heart rate down to something more human. “The King’s Guard is flying into Athens. They are leaving now. Rashad asked for Greek surveillance until-” but Olivia nodded at him, cutting him off.

“I don’t know how. But your hotel is about to be under Greek surveillance until the King’s Guard arrives, so you guys have to get moving. Good luck.” She hung up at that, letting out a massive sigh. “Shit,” she breathed out after a few seconds, her eyes bouncing back and forth before she slammed them shut, clearly planning and preparing.

Liam felt her fingers trembling around his wrist for just a second, but then she let go. She pushed herself off the couch with a flourish. “Find your burner. I’m gonna make some calls, but we need to destroy any evidence that we were in contact with them,” she said, nearly jogging towards the door.

“Olivia…”

She spun around and let out a little breath before walking back towards the couch. Her hand settled on his shoulder with a gentle squeeze as she gave him a nod. “We warned them as soon as we could, but we need to be the ones worried about the big picture right now. And things will only be worse for them if you and I are arrested, right?”

All he could do was nod. She was 100 percent correct.

“Okay, so find your burner. I’ll be back in a little bit, Liam.” And with that, she was off, a woman on a mission, leaving him sitting there, shaking on the couch, just trying to find his footing.

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

Hana shook hands with the final citizen, a woman in her late 40s who had been born and raised in Valtoria.

“Thank you so much, Your Grace,” she said, smiling as she returned the handshake.

“Of course. Just because our country is going through a period of transition doesn’t mean that I am going to ignore the needs of Valtoria’s citizens.”

The woman thanked her again before turning and exiting the formal dining room, the location Hana had chosen for the first Citizen Open Forum she’d scheduled. The large table provided ample seating, but the room was close enough to the main entrance to make it unlikely that anyone could wander into private areas of the estate without being caught by staff. 

Olivia had been irritated when Hana had told her she was opening up the estate to the public. “You are giving Barthelemy’s people free access,” she told her. But Hana knew that she couldn’t just sidestep her duties as a duchess. Not only would that weaken people’s perception of Liam by association, but morally she just couldn’t do that. The country was in such turmoil because of a few members of the nobility trying to wrest power from some other nobles. For her citizens to be left neglected due to the whims of the highly privileged was ethically something she couldn’t allow to happen. So she’d hosted the forum, hearing directly from Valtoria’s residents what she should prioritize to improve their lives, but made sure to instruct her staff to notify her immediately if anyone was caught wandering too far from the dining room or bathroom. It was the best she felt she could do under the circumstances.

However, the last citizen had now vacated the estate, and Hana couldn’t help but let out a contented sigh. It had gone well, she thought. She had clear budgetary priorities to request at the upcoming meeting between the social season’s derby and the stop in Lythikos. Plus, one of the leaders of the protesters in front of the estate had come, and conversation with him had been productive. Obviously, she couldn’t outright tell him that she wished she could be right out there with them, carrying a sign that said “She’s their kid,” but he had given her a knowing smile when she told him she saw no reason to intervene when Cordonia citizens were just exercising a right to free speech. He had all but promised her that the protests would stay peaceful and would not target her for her assumption of the role of Duchess of Valtoria.

As she wandered into the kitchen to make herself some tea, she felt her phone vibrating in her pocket. She turned on the tap to fill the kettle with one hand as she moved to answer the call with the other.

“Olivia, how are you?” she asked, watching the kettle fill.

“Do you not answer your phone anymore?”

Hana frowned, pulling the phone away from her ear and swiping the screen. “I don’t have any missed calls, Olivia.”

“Not this phone. I’ve called you no less than ten times.”

She turned off the tap and set the full kettle on the counter, a nagging thread of anxiety and fear worming its way into her heart with that statement. “What’s wrong?”

“Turn on the news.”

Hana spun around, finding the remote laying on the island and turning on the television mounted in the eat-in nook.

“-these exclusively obtained photos show a woman who appears to be the former duchess, Riley Walker, conversing with the former Crown Prince, Leo Rys, at a bar in Athens.”

The screen filled with a low-quality image, clearly zoomed in several times. The lighting was a sort of orange color, and the faces were grainy and fuzzy, but there was Riley, although her hair was clearly dyed a much lighter color. Leo’s face was only seen in profile, not as identifiable, but he was obviously talking to her. The screen changed to a new photo, Leo a bit more recognizable in this one, passing Riley something.

“Oh no,” said Hana, leaning against the counter.

“-clear evidence of collusion between the former Crown Prince and Riley Walker, who has been charged with treason and kidnapping of the monarch,” the anchor droned on, but Olivia’s response drowned out the quiet volume of the television.

“Yeah, that’s an understatement. So what was so pressing that you were ignoring your burner?”

“I had the forum with the citizens, and I thought if I was carrying two cell phones, that might-”

A massive groan from Olivia cut her off. “Whatever. Well, you need to destroy your burner. Now.”

“But what about Riley and-”

“I warned them. Hopefully they are able to get out of Athens, but nothing else we can do there. It’s time to protect ourselves.”

“Olivia, what-”

“I gotta go check on Liam. Destroy the phone, Hana. And don’t call me.”

“Why can’t I-”

“-Liam is definitely going to be questioned since Leo is now known to be involved. We can talk at the derby, but if they start monitoring our phone records, I don’t want to give them any reason to think we are scheming.”

Before Hana could as much as tell Olivia she understood, she heard the line click dead. Taking a few seconds for some calming breaths, she centered herself before she climbed the stairs to her quarters, a pit of dread cementing itself firmly in her stomach with each step. She reached her room and opened the top drawer of her dresser, pulling the burner phone out from underneath her nylons. Sure enough, she had dozens of missed notifications from Olivia, and a couple from Maxwell as well. Well, she knew what those were regarding. No need to deal with them at this point. Instead, she walked over to her dressing table and grabbed her manicure kit.

She wandered down the hallway towards the lounge, taking in the quiet and calm. It was odd; the estate probably had more people in it currently than it had for most of the time Riley and Drake had lived there. Hana didn’t feel compelled to aggressively minimize the staff presence like they had, far more used to having employees around from her upbringing. But staff were expected to be as discreet and silent as possible, to make themselves scarce, particularly in the private quarters. 

No one had ever called Riley quiet. There was a certain vibrancy she brought to any room, and her voice and laughter were always echoing through the halls. And even though Drake wasn’t the most talkative, he certainly would quip, snark, and joke in the privacy of his own home. Of course, once Bridget was born, there was more noise and energy and life than ever before. Now, it was just Hana and the corgis. The estate felt hollow and soulless.

Once in the lounge, Hana shut the door behind her firmly. Anderson glanced up, but quickly draped his head back over Vera, all the dogs curled up on their giant cushion in the corner. Hana knew that the maids had cleaned the lounge yesterday, so she was unlikely to be found there. She sat down in one of the armchairs, and pried the cover off the back of her phone using her cuticle pusher. All the electronic components stared up at her, ready for her to do her worst. But before she could bring herself to kill the only connection she had to her best friend, she flipped the phone over and sent one last message to Riley.

I love you all. Stay safe. I’ll find a way to get in touch when I can.

Letting out a sigh, she turned the phone back over. She spent the next 15 minutes prying off motherboards and any chips and cards she could find, dropping them one by one into her container of acetone nail polish remover. Then, she removed the battery before placing the remaining elements into the fireplace. She would just have to store the battery under her floorboards until she could figure out how to safely dispose of it. 

She started a fire, then curled up on the couch, tugging a quilt over her lap as she watched her only connection to the first person to show her unconditional love melt and warp, eventually turning to ash. Tears started trailing down her cheeks, dripping onto her blouse and the quilt, but she didn’t care. She was devastated - for herself, for her found family, and for her country. At some point, Anderson jumped up to join her, nestling in against her legs.

“I miss them so much,” she said, dropping a hand to the top of his head. “So, so much.”

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

Bridget was wailing in her crib, but Riley didn’t have time to calm her. She needed to pack. Now.

When Drake had called her, she knew something bad was happening. He’d left with their passports this afternoon to take them to a cousin of a friend of someone Drake had met at the restaurant, someone who was supposed to be able to help with fake documents and forgeries. The plan had been to change their names and their country of origin, allowing them to catch a flight to the States without getting stopped at the airport. The final destination once there hadn’t been decided. Drake had wanted to go to Texas, but Leona’s presence scared Riley. She had already sold out their safety for a quick payday once before.

But that debate was a moot point now. So was the uncertainty about this unknown forger on whom they were relying. Drake had called, frantic and alarmed, clearly running and somewhat out of breath as he spoke to her. Telling her Olivia had called to warn them they were about to be arrested. Telling her to pack. Telling her they needed to run.

So Bridget was unceremoniously dumped into her travel crib as Riley tried to shove everything into the duffel bags from Leo. She knew she should leave the impractical things, like the framed photos, but those would incriminate their friends. So they had to come with. Toiletries seemed essential, too. Some of the clothes were going to have to get left behind. Some of the toys as well. She had to be able to carry everything in one trip. She had to get to the car as quickly as possible. 

She knew it had probably been less than five minutes since Drake had called, but it felt like she was moving too slowly, taking way too long. Drake hadn’t given her any sort of time frame. Who knew if Olivia had even given him one. But for all she knew, police were rounding the corner, waiting for her in the hallway, about to burst through the hotel door. So she shoved and crammed and squeezed everything she could into the duffel bags and the diaper bag. Those would go over her shoulders, the crib would collapse and go in one arm, Bridget in the other. That would have to be good enough. 

Once she was sure that the bags were as full as they could be, she pulled Bridget out, placing her on the floor as she scrambled to collapse the crib, fumbling with the locking mechanism for just a few seconds before it folded in on itself, allowing her to tuck it into her elbow. By some mad miracle, Bridget was hanging close by, not trying to crawl away to explore and cause trouble. Maybe she was frightened by the way Riley was acting. Regardless, it was a blessing.

Knowing she was as ready as she was going to be, she loaded everything up and grabbed Bridget, pausing just briefly to juggle their possessions as she opened the door. She didn’t bother closing it behind her, just moved as quickly as she could with her load down the hallway, down the stairs, through the lobby, and around the corner to the street where their car was parked. No one tried to stop her or talk to her, so she took the time to toss everything on the ground and properly latch Bridget into her car seat. Then, she threw everything in the hatchback before climbing into the passenger’s seat and locking the doors behind her. Bridget continued to cry, but there was little Riley could do to comfort her at this point. All that was left to do was wait for Drake.

Drake had told her to meet him in the car, but she didn’t like feeling exposed, sitting where anyone could see her during broad daylight. Add to that the fact that she was in the passenger seat, so she wouldn’t even be able to make a quick getaway if need be. Her piss-poor driving skills were just one more area where she was making their life harder, but there was no way to fix that right now. All she could do was hang tight. She was contemplating what in the car she could use as a weapon if it came down to it when her phone buzzed. She swiped to answer instantly when she saw it was Drake’s number.

“Drake, where are you?”

“Around the corner from the hotel. You in the car?”

“Yeah. How did-” but before she could get her question out, she saw Drake through the driver’s side window. She let out a little yelp of surprise before reaching over and unlocking the door, handing him the keys as soon as he sat down. 

He didn’t even bother to say anything, just started the car and eased off the clutch as he shifted into first gear, pulling out onto the road. Bridget quieted soon after they got moving, but Riley didn’t feel any better as the yelling and screaming subsided. She just stared at Drake, one hand braced on the steering wheel, the other on the gear shift, his neck and shoulders so tense and coiled, he looked ready to burst.

“Where are we going?” she finally chanced asking.

Drake shook his head, never taking his eyes off the road. “I don’t know. Out of Athens.”

“Then why are we making so many turns?”

“Don’t know if we were being watched or followed. Gotta lose anyone who might be tailing us.” His voice was clipped and frayed. He sounded about five seconds away from losing it completely. Riley wanted to hold his hand, to comfort him in some way. But she didn’t want to distract him, both from driving and from the tiny amount of control he had over his emotional response to everything that was unfolding. After all, they weren’t safe yet. So she just nodded and grabbed her phone off her lap.

“I’ll pull up some maps, okay?”

He nodded and let out a rough breath at that. “Thanks, Walker,” he said before flipping on the radio. “Can you try and find us a news station?”

“Drake, I won’t-”

“I’ll translate.”

And so they were off, unsure where or how far they needed to go to be safe. All they could do at this point was keep moving forward.

Perma: @walkerswhiskeygirl​ @octobereighth​ @kimmiedoo5​ @mom2000aggie​

TRR/TRH: @twinkleallnight​ @iaminlovewithtrr​ @mskaneko​ @axwalker​ @jovialyouthmusic​ @marshmallowsandfire​ @kingliam2019​ @sirbeepsalot​ @texaskitten30 @princessleac1​ @ladyangel70​ @debramcg1106​ @masterofbluff​  

Drake/MC:  @no-one-u-know   @iplaydrake​

FoF: @burnsoslow​ @bobasheebaby​

[stop-breaking-my-heart-telltale]

I don’t get you, CJ. Why are you so quick to throw around the term “bad writing” when you don’t agree with something? Why not simply chalk it up to having different likes or dislikes than other people and move on?

Instead of deconstructing characters you don’t like, why not use your platform to empower other voices and highlight others with different tastes or opinions than you? Different people notice different things about the games. That’s one of the nice things about fandom.

You clearly love writing and analysis, but when you post answers to asks that hold different opinions than you’re own, you often go “you’re valid, but…” and launch into paragraphs upon paragraphs of your opposite opinion rather than truly exploring theirs.

I guess what I’m trying to say is I think your blog and analyses would be stronger if rather than dismissing plot points or characters as “bad writing” you step outside yourself and ask others what they see in that writing since it’s not connecting with you.

To be fair, anon, I don't get me either.

But I hear you, so if you'll allow me to do the thing where I launch into paragraphs upon paragraphs, let's talk about this.

I assume this might've come about because of the recent Violet talk here? Or maybe it's from older posts, I dunno, you didn't specify so I can only speculate and use the Violet posts as the main example here.

So here's the thing... deconstructing characters and storylines is something I enjoy doing. Hell, it's one of my favorite things to do. It doesn't matter if I like or dislike the character, or if I agree with plot directions, or if I think it's "good" or "bad" writing. That's how I work things out for myself, how I try to understand why I'm feeling the way I am about certain characters and story elements. I break apart the different aspects of these things and analyze them so that I can improve the content I create and try to avoid the same mistakes I've come across that I wanted to be better.

When it comes to me tossing around "bad writing", or just implying it, I'm not trying to say that "bad writing = trash, garbage, unenjoyable, anyone who likes this is a dingus, how could you?" it's more "I see flaws here and I want it to be better, I know it can be better and it frustrates me that I can't fix it," y'know?

And I'm fully aware that other people might not see it that way. With that basketball Violet post, I know that a lot of the Violet crowd are gonna read that and be like "no, I love the bell tower scene! It fits well with her character! What are you talking about?" and that's fine, I expect that. That post was me writing something that's been on my mind that I wanted to share, it wasn't me trying to scold anyone for liking it or trying to dismiss their feelings about it.

When it comes to differing opinions, especially on Violet, I've come to the conclusion that we just gotta agree to disagree. I've tried for years at this point to understand the appeal of Violet and gone looking for answers about her in hopes of being enlightened, and I have asked around.

In the past, I have made posts inquiring about what people see in Violet [Minerva, too] and why they prefer Violentine, and I got little to nothing in response. So I totally get where you're coming from when you say I should ask others what they see in the writing that I don't, but there's only so much I can do when no one is willing to answer me. So, I have to look around myself.

I've searched through several threads on reddit and none of them have been insightful, unsurprisingly.

That's what sparked my mini-rant about Louis before. On reddit, a lot of the answers on why people like Violet are either "she sided with Clementine, she's just really sweet deep down, she has more trauma, and lesbian," or "I like Violet more because Louis is a traitor," and what the hell am I supposed to get out of that, y'know? They're not really telling me anything, they're just looking to argue among themselves and I've had to throw in the towel on that one.

I've had better luck here, having read some truly insightful posts about Violet, her arc, and her relationship with Clementine. The conclusion I've reached it that the things people find appealing about her are things that I don't.

If you need an example, we'll use the aftermath of Marlon's murder when Violet turns on the group to defend AJ. Every post from the Violet crowd I've read that talks about that scene praises her for turning against her friends/family to defend AJ when they were gonna attack him, it shows what she's willing to do for them, that's something that drew them to her. Then there's me, who sees that as adding unnecessary aggression to the situation when none of them were going to attack AJ, they weren't looking at AJ, and none of this is helping. Neither of these interpretations are wrong.

Guess what I'm trying to get at is I'm one person, and having discussions takes more than one willing person.

Moving on, "when you post answers to asks that hold different opinions than you’re own, you often go “you’re valid, but…” and launch into paragraphs upon paragraphs of your opposite opinion rather than truly exploring theirs."

I've thought about this for a while, and maybe I do actually do this but don't realize it. I like to think that I'm engaging with the ideas that people send me, but I dunno, maybe I can be dismissive of things because I have a hard time being objective. That's something I've always struggled with, and I'm sorry if I ever came across as dismissive or didn't fully explore ideas, that's something I can definitely get better at.

As for "why not use your platform to empower other voices and highlight others with different tastes or opinions than you? Different people notice different things about the games. That’s one of the nice things about fandom."

I've done character nights, ship nights, season nights, etc. for about two years, give or take. That's what those nights were about. Usually, I'd put up a poll and we'd all vote on what we wanted to discuss, and then the floor was open for anyone to give their input, and we'd discuss.

I stopped doing them a little while ago because I was burnt out on themed nights. Remembering to make new polls, setting aside part of my weekends to spend hours answering asks the best I could, usually dealing with other projects on top of it all.... it may not seem like it, but god, those nights took a lot out of me. I loved doing it! Having those discussions were some of the best parts of running this blog, but now my new job has me working 40+ hours a week, four days with ten hour shifts and occasionally some overtime on the weekends, I just don't have it in me anymore to do it every single weekend. Not with how tired I am and with all the other projects I'm working on.

That's why I've started testing the waters with these shorter posts of me throwing out ideas or going on mini-rants. They're something simple I can do with no pressure, just me with an empty document getting whatever's on my mind out... and it helps that it feels like my last fuck has just flown away to the heavens to weave itself into the boat god's beard like as he sails among the clouds and stars..... so now I'm gonna talk about whatever I want and the fact that it's my opinion is implied.

I'm sorry if I'm coming off as a little defensive with this part, I tend to get that way whenever people tell me what I should or shouldn't do with my blog, even if they're just trying to be helpful and I don't believe you have any ill intent with your message. I've had this blog for three years now, and I've always had people telling me I shouldn't do character analyses, I should stay in my lane, just write fanfics and do character nights. I should answer more asks otherwise people will think I don't care. I shouldn't write headcanon posts, that's what other blogs do and I'll be taking content away from them. I shouldn't write that one au I've always wanted to because I should be working on [with you]. I shouldn't write anything but [with you.] I shouldn't talk about Violet because I'm a Louis blog.

And that's dumb. All of that is dumb! No one owns the concept of headcanon posts or character analyses! Just like how I don't own the concept of character nights!

Again, my last fuck is lost in Kenny's beard, I don't have it anymore. I'm going to write and analyze whatever I want, when I want, and the best I can do is promise to be better. My inbox is open, I'll try to answer and engage with you guys when I can, I'll keep doing these posts where I ramble about whatever topic is on my mind, and I shouldn't have to put a disclaimer of "This is all my opinion and it's okay if you disagree, I'm not trying to invalidate you" because that's implied.

Before I close out this long response, I do wanna add a thank you for the ask, I do appreciate the constructive criticism. Usually anons that have any problem with me after I talk about Violet will just call me a piece of shit and tell me to delete my blog. Maybe this helped you, maybe it didn't, either way thanks :)

[stonewallprepbulletinboard]

Gossippy Gossip

People! People shut the fuck up! I have got some Gossippp for you. Who knew all you had to do was lock people’s junk up to get them to get all drama llama. Your girl is like a pig in shit over here. Ok, ok. Breath bish. Breath. Ok. I’m ready. Let’s do this. 

So you all know the deal with this Locktober thing so I won’t say anything else. Except let’s just take a moment to appreciate how fucking kinky our Headmaster is. Like who sits around thinking of kinky ways to fuck with us that fucking he can make into a portmanteau. Or whatever the fuck that is. Props Headmaster FP (Grand Master Flashy Pants to you and me). Anyhow, let’s get to the juicy stuff. I think I just gotta start with the head to head match up of Logan v. Jones. Right? I won’t say I didn’t see this coming, because those gears were grinding the second they met, but I didn’t expect all out war. Ok, fine, all out popularity poll. No wait anti-popularity poll. I got my vote in how about you? And because I’m a shit disturber here’s the link right here. But since I do not want either of these hot heads on my ass I’ll be keeping my own vote on the DL. 

What’s not on the DL is how Oliver Smythe feels about keeping his hairy canary caged up. That boy accepted a whooping and an electric shock collar rather than just lockin’ it up. Don’t know whether to be impressed, shocked, or just twerk in front of him to see what happens with that collar. 

Now, while that shit put the lic in public, Brother Ollie isn’t the only soul not down with packaging up his trouser sausage. Sky Evans has himself a stylish zappy collar too. Doesn’t seem to be keeping the little guy down though. I’ve seen him zapping across campus for days. Or maybe he’s always vibrating like that.  On a less cheerful note I’ve heard tell that the stress is getting to our own little swimming pool jell-o chef Austin Fabray. He seems to have gotten himself into a spot of trouble. Is it because of the cage? I don’t know for sure, but you all tell me. Seems a little coinkydink right? Come on Chandler give the guy a break. Who can think straight when their little brain is getting squished? Am I right? 

But listen, just so you don’t think I only enjoy hearing about people fucking their shit up, I’ve got some good news. Stonewall’s very special little puppy Alejandro Lodge has got himself enough points to be claimed and I’m sure we’re all sure which alpha wolf is going to jump on that, like a dog in heat. Wonder how Mr. Confidence for Days Logan Lodge feels about his kid brother beating him to the finish line? Shh, shh... positive. I’m supposed to be keeping this part positive. Congrats Alex. You deserve it you little tail wagger. 

Welp, I think that wraps it up for me today. I’m pretty sure there will be plenty to talk about after the masquerade. There’s always lots to talk about after the masquerade. But hey maybe y’all can make some predictions. Which siblings will accidentally fuck or at least accidentally fuck the same person... at the same time? Which member of faculty will expose themselves? Which enemies will go down on each other in the middle of the dance floor? Who will go overboard with their costume? Who will show up in a sheet with the eyes cut out? Message me bitches and tell me what you think. Until then this is your girl Mayhem Molly, signing off. 

[thiswasinevitableid]

if you’re still taking meet ugly asks, could you do 01 or 13 for sternclay? nsfw please

Here you go! I went with 1.

we were set up on a blind date but it went horribly, so now you message me every time you have a good date because you think your tips will help me in the future, you ass.

Bzzbzz

Joseph picks up his phone and regrets it before he’s even done reading the waiting message.

Barclay: See, this is how you dress for a date at a casual place.

It’s accompanied by a photo of a headless torso, sporting a Ramones T-shirt and blue jeans.

He deletes the message. He told that asshole he was in the suit because Hayes kept him late to finish a report and he didn’t want to be any more behind for their date than he already was.

No, you know what, he’s had enough of this.

J.S: He’s dressed like a college student. No one told me you were a cradle robber.

Barclay: Just trying to help you do better next time ;)

This is the same line he gives Joseph every time he sends one of these texts

“It was great, it felt like a real conversation instead of an interrogation.”

“See, what made tonight nice was he didn’t look at his phone even once.”

“Now, what made this nice is that he didn’t mistake another guy for me on the way in.”

He has reasons, explanations, things that could make him look more like a man who had a bad day and less like the poster boy for the horrors of blind dating. But the one time he tried sharing his side of things, Barclay responded that he wasn’t doing this to make sense of their shitty date, but to make it easier on the next guy.

It was the last date in a long line of increasingly desperate attempts by his loved ones to find someone, anyone, for him to be with; being married to his work fills all his needs. Leave it to his older sister to spot that it wasn’t meeting many of his wants.

Joseph tosses the phone away, retrieves his take-out leftovers from the fridge. As he munches reheated green mango chicken, the city heading out into Friday night revelry without him, he decides that while he’s not about to take dating advice from a guy who can’t pull his head out of his ass long enough to consider someone else’s perspective, Barclay makes one good point: there’s always a next time.

And there’s no moment like the present to start planning for it.

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

Barclay cannot figure out why Logan chose this spot; it’s one step above gay cruising club. Not that he hasn’t had fun at those before, but he was hoping for somewhere quieter. Also somewhere with better food; you can tell a lot about a guy by what he orders, and fuck all about him when the only meal to be found is chips or the olive from a martini glass.

Still not the worst date he’s been on.

As Logan steers the conversation in promisingly steamy directions, Barclay glances at the bar and locks eyes with his biggest disappointment of the year. Joseph raises an eyebrow, then his face goes annoyingly neutral as he looks first at Logan and then to the bartender for another glass.

His date excuses himself and Barclay weighs how much of a dick he wants to be against how good Joseph looks tonight. He’s in a v-neck and a short jacket, dark-wash jeans making it easy to picture how satisfying hooking his legs over Barclays shoulders would be.

Barclay sidles up to the bar, leaning on it and smiling at Joseph, “You finally decide to put my advice to good use?”

“No.” Joseph replies, tarter than a cherry, and goes back to looking at his phone.

“Suit yourself, and have fun going home alone.”

The black-haired man squares his shoulders, turns so that Barclay gets a full-on view of a stunning face and sharp, blue eyes, “At least I won’t be going home with someone who’s using me for a prank video.”

“Pfft, whatever man, you’re just-” Barclay snaps his mouth shut as Joseph turns his phone, showing a Youtube channel hosted by none other than Logan.

“His modus operandi is to have viewers vote on which gay man he should go out with and string along the whole night until he reveals he’s straight.”

“I, I uh, that’s” his heart is in his shoes, “that’s not very nice.”

“That’s not all. There are three cameras recording your date.” Joseph points to three separate guys, “they’re using their phones, makes it hard to prove they’re not just texting or something else innocuous.”

He might cry. Worse, if he cries, he might owe Joseph an explanation.

“There you are baby, thought you’d run off.” Logan sets a hand on his arm and Barclay freezes, trying to work out a non-humiliating form of escape.

Joseph clears his throat, “Are you aware that recording people without their permission is illegal in this state?”

“Uh, no, but what the fuck does that have to do with me?”

“You, and those three gentleman you’re having film Mr. Cobb here, are all at risk of being charged with a misdemeanor.” Joseph’s voice is smooth and clear, utterly in control, and Barclay gets goosebumps as he pulls out his wallet and flashes an FBI badge, “I suggest you get out of here before you do something you regret.”

The quartet disappears in a cloud of body spray as Barclay slumps onto a stool and Joseph orders two more drinks, sliding one his way. Whiskey Soda, his favorite. He’d ordered it during their date.

They sip in silence for three songs before Joseph says, “I guess I passed the dubious honor of your worst date onto someone else.”

“You’re still a strong runner up.” It’s mean, but Barclay isn’t feeling very chipper right now.

“Oh come on, I wasn’t that bad! I was trying to learn as much about you as I could while switching from work mode to a date.”

“You made me feel like I was doing all the work!”

“If you’d given me more than a half hour of your time I could have fixed that.”

“Nah, I know when a date is doomed. No point in dragging it out. It wasn’t going to be fun.”

“I can be fun!” Joseph knocks back the rest of his drink, “I’ll prove it.”

Barclay snorts, “how?”

“I want a do over. Right now.” Lights dance across his skin and Barclay gets a whiff of gin and mint as he leans so they’re almost nose to nose, “Unless you’re afraid you’ll be the dud this time.”

“You’re on.” Barclay growls, “but don’t get your hopes up.”

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

Either his pillow sprouted fur overnight, or Joseph isn’t where he should be.

He cracks his eyes open, squinting in the muted, grey light sneaking in under the curtains. The room, while tidy, isn’t his, and the clock on the wall tells him he’s starting his Saturday out with oversleeping.

Barclay is sound asleep beside him, his broad, hairy chest rising and falling soothingly. A cursory peek under the blankets shows he’s a naked as Joseph is. As the agent slips from the bed and hunts down his clothes, he starts to remember why.

They’d done something in the club bathroom, a blow-job, that’s right, and the instant Barclay dragged him into his apartment Joseph shoved him onto the bed, yanked his pants off, and returned the favor. He remembers, as he surrenders to going commando rather than wear his pre-cum stained boxer briefs, wanting to sleep with his head on Barclay’s stomach, cum still on his lips, but the cook made a very convincing argument to come up and kiss him instead.

His pants are back on when his phone lights up from it’s spot on the floor.

Alert: Snowstorm predicted to last until 5 pm Sunday. Travel limited, recommended for emergencies only. At least five feet of snow predicted.

“Shit” he whispers, pushing the curtain aside to discover a world of smooth, white roof tops and impassable streets.

Jinglejingle

He spins, startled, as what he thought was a black pillow shakes out it’s ears and rises from a cushion at the foot of the bed. It’s the single most absurd dog he’s ever seen, like someone smushed a corgi and a Rottweiler together. It blinks at him, cocks it’s head, and then shifts its attention to the bed.

“Please don’t jump.” Maybe he can still sneak out on foot, or find somewhere else to wait out the storm.

The dog launches it’s tubular body onto Barclay, who “oofs” and is laughing before he even opens his eyes.

“Hey boy, yeah, I know, I know, didn’t let you in until way after bedtime.” The cooks deep voice is scratchy with sleep. The dog wiggles and digs at the blankets on his chest as he turns his head, smiling Joseph’s way, “morning babe.”

“Good morning.” Throwing himself out the window would result in hypothermia. Also a broken ankle. So no luck there.

Barclay notices his jeans, “Oh, uh, if you need to go that’s cool. I, uh” he yawns “I have a policy of making breakfast after a hook-up, but if you’re in a hurry I can just get you some coffee for the road. C’mon Sass, let me up.”

“I, um, I can stay. I don’t have much choice.”

“What do you--oh fuck, I knew we were getting snow this weekend but no one said anything about a fucking blizzard. Guess you’re crashing here for the weekend.”

“I guess so.”

Barclay’s smile shrinks, “Is that a shitty outcome?”

“No! Or, um, I just” Joseph sits on the bed, running a hand through his hair, “I don’t want to impose. I was trying to get out of here so I wouldn’t make things awkward since I, um, I don’t do this much.”

“Gotta say that was kinda obvious.” It’s a gentle tease, Barclay’s fingers flipping through his phone, “huh, when did I take a video last night?”

“I think you--oh, oh my lord.” Joseph claps his hands over his mouth, blushing at the memory.

“What, did I talk you into karaoke or somethi--holy fuck.” Barclay scoots to where Joseph is frozen, holding the screen where they can both see it. The same face growing excited beside him is looking up at the camera, lips wrapped around Joseph’s cock as a voice urges him on.

“You like that, big guy?”

Barclay nods, pulls off so he can drag his tongue up the shaft with a grin. Then he swallows it almost to the base, Joseph’s hand flying past the lens to stifle a moan.

“That’s it, show me how much you like it, s-so the next time you feel like sending me a snarky text you can watch this and remember just how much fucking fun you had sucking my dickAH.” A laugh as Barclay sits back on his heels, pulling off the condom.

“C’mon blue eyes, bet, bet you’re gonna look great when you cum, fuck, think I ruined these pants just watching you. Heh, you like that, like getting me hard and wet on the fucking bathroom floor.”

“Usually it’s, it’s the other waAAaay aroundohfuck, shit.” Cum spatters across Barclay’s face. The cook licks his lips, still smiling, as the camera sinks to his level, Joseph giggling behind it, “here, let, let me clean you up.”

“Don’t want everyone else to see your cum all over me?"

“Nngn. I, I mean no, not in actuality.” Joseph’s hand returns to the frame, gently cleaning Barclay’s cheek with toilet paper.

The video ends there. Joseph is red from his hips to his cheeks, but not so embarrassed that he misses Barclay rubbing his thighs together. Then the cook meets his eyes and sets the phone aside.

“I can delete it. Know your face isn’t in it but if you’re more comfortable with it gone, it’s gone.”

The offer alone calms him, “No, no it’s okay. Thank you for offering. I, um, since I’ll be here awhile, can I use your shower?”

“Sure, it’s just through there.” He tips his head at the door in the left wall, grabbing a robe from the door and heading into the chilly apartment, Sass clickclick-ing on the hardwood after him.

As always, the world is more manageable when he’s clean. A pair of sweatpants and a thick, blue sweater are waiting for him on the bed, and coffee-swirled air coaxes him into the kitchen. It’s small but immaculately organized, Barclay moving from stove to cabinet to fridge and back again in an intimate dance.

“Coffee on the left is yours. I’m doing pancetta in the omelettes; most of my friends are vegetarian so I never get a chance to bust it out.”

“That sounds delicious.” He picks up the mug, sighs as warms his chest, “mmm, you have real cream somewhere in this house.”

“Yep. Remember you said you liked the real stuff when you could get it. I drink mine black, but really these beans demand cream instead of milk; sets of the chocolate notes really nice.”

“I can never taste those. Same thing with wine. But I guess that’s why you’re the professional and I’m not.”

“That’s more a happy coincidence. I got into this to help with the bills when I was in high school. I wasn’t, like, combining flavors and deciding to be a cook like in Ratatouille or something.”

“That’s a Pixar movie, right?”

“Only the best one ever made. Have you really not seen it?

“I, um, I only watch kids movies if I’m babysitting my niece. Which doesn’t happen as often as I’d like.”

“Well, now I know what we’re doing after breakfast. Ah ah, Sass, not for you.” He shoos the dog from where it’s valiantly trying to double in length to reach the table.

“Is his name short for something?”

“Sasquatch.”

“Awwww.” Joseph crouches down to scritch behind one, floppy ear.

“His whole litter was named for cryptids; Nessie, Champ, Yeti, stuff like that.”

“‘Bray’ feels like an obvious one.” He smiles, then remembers not everyone is a nerdy UP agent, “sorry, never mind.”

“Uh uh special agent, I’ve been waiting to ask you about this. You don’t get to say you’re ‘like Fox Mulder’ and then not share more.” Barclay pulls out his chair, kisses his head when he sits down. He then listens to Joseph expound on canine cryptids of the midwest for fifteen minutes, fascinated the entire time.

“Y’know, I had a line cook who swore he’d been abducted by aliens.”

“What was his proof?”

By the time their plates are clean, Joseph has generated three alternative explanations and Barclay is staring at him with an expression straight from a rom-com. The cook sets up the movie while Joseph does the dishes, then pulls him under a mound of blankets.

“The heat in this place is shit, but I promise I’ll keep you warm.”

He enjoys the movie plenty, the weight of Barclay’s arm over his shoulder and, eventually, his waist, even more. They watch Ramen Girl for the hell of it, spooning on the couch while the snow makes dunes out of the sidewalk.

When the second movie is done, Joseph rolls so he’s facing the cook, “What should we do now?”

“Could keep watching movies, or bake something. I’ve got some cards and a few games in the closet. Or we could just cuddle and talk. I’m good with whatever.”

“...Could I ask you something?”

“Anything.”

“You’ve been so sweet all day. Why were you such an ass about our first date?”

Barclay shifts, discomfort entering his eyes, “I was having a shitty week and was hoping the date would make me feel better. I ended up so anxious after it, felt like you wanted to be somewhere else, that I kinda took my frustration out by being a dick. I’m sorry. I, um, I wasn’t even on that many dates between now and then; I’d just text you what I’d wished had happened to fuck with you.”

“I should’ve known it; no one has that many good dates in a row.”

“Sorry.”

Joseph cups his cheek, “And I’m sorry for making you feel that way the first time. I had my reasons but, well, you still had a bad time because I was flustered and couldn’t get my mind off work.”

“Think you’ve more than made up for it.”

“Can I try again anyway?” Joseph kisses him, slipping his fingers under the waistband of his sweats.

Barclay’s lips curve up, “Bedroom?”

“Bedroom.”

Once Barclay is comfortably naked atop the blankets (space heater pointed at the bed all the while), Joseph asks if he has any condoms.

“Yeah, bathroom cabinet. But I’m not, uh, I don’t-”

“It’s not for penetration. You said last night that was a no for you.” In the reflection of the bathroom mirror, he watches him relax. If he ever finds out someone saw the tension in those muscles, heard the worry in that sweet, deep voice and pushed anyway, he’s going to set them on fire with his mind.

Barclay nestles his cheek on his pillow as Joseph fishes his swiss army knife from his jacket, puts his ass in the air and wiggles it expectantly as Joseph unrolls the cut latex.

“Is this okay?”

“Uh huh, I really love it when guys do this but, uh, it doesn’t happen much. The hair turns a lot of them off.”

“Cowards.” Joseph holds the makeshift dam in place. Barclay’s chuckle morphs into a moan as he presses his face between his asscheeks, tongue making an obscene sound against the latex. There’s a warmth to this angle that he loves, a tender sort of filthiness to the way Barclay pushes his ass back with little gasps of his name.

He doesn’t get to practice his technique often, but that makes it all the more pleasurable to re-acquaint himself with it now, find the ways of pressing and curving his tongue that make Barclay’s ass tense under his hands.

“Fuck, fuck, Joseph, I take it all back, every rude text, you’re gonna drive every date you get crazy, gonna make them wonder how they got so lucky to get someone so goddamn wild.”

��I don’t think I will. I think” Joseph kisses the small of his back, “I think it’s you. You bring it out in me, you make me want to do all the things I’d be ashamed to ask for the rest of the time.”

Barclay whimpers happily.

“I’m serious. There’s something about you, I feel like I can want what I want without shame.” He nips his right cheek once, gently, “or maybe it’s just that what I really want is you and everything else finds into line because of it.”

“Fuuuck, baby, please.” Barclays weight shifts as Joseph eats him out ever more messily, “wanna, wanna make you feel good.” He’s rubbing his dick, Joseph can tell by the sound.

“May I?”

“Uhhuh, fuck, c’mere” Barclay grabs him as soon as they’re both sitting up, “was gonna pound you into next week but I dont wanna waste time with the harness right now.”

“Then we can do that tomorrowAH, ohlord” his hand stutters on it’s way to Barclay’s cock as calloused fingers circle is dick, “god there is not a part of you that disappoints, you’re just a wet dream from top to bottom.”

“Aw, babe.” Barclay kisses his shoulder, groaning as Joseph thumbs his dick, “fuck, speaking of, you gonna tell me what you meant in the stall last night? About things being ‘the other way around.”

Now it’s his turn to hide his face, “Promise you won’t think I’m dirty?”

“Babe, your mouth was on my ass a minute ago. You’re dirty and I fucking love it.”

“I, um, I, when I travel for missions I look for, for places that have glory holes.”

“Oh fuck” Barclay ruts against his palm, “that’s a fucking amazing image blue eyes. You on your knees, trying to keep that fucking suit clean while a fucking parade of guys shove their dicks down your throat.”

“I, it’s an easy way for me to get off, I can edge myself until I’m done and then cum without anyone being the wise but, god, half the time I’d think about this, want this.” He speeds up his strokes, pumps his cock into Barclay’s fist.

“What, a hairy trans guy?” Barclay bumps their noses together.

“This” his free hand glides along Barclays arm where it’s holding him, “s-someone to see me, hold onto me, fuck the whole of me and not just the acceptable, easy part. But” he meets brown eyes, teases slick skin, “I, the other times I fucked someone like this it, it was like I was still in that fucking stall. Last night, today, I’m here, I want to be and I am.”

“Baby.” The word comes in a sweet rumble of understanding just as Joseph cums with a gasp. He holds on for dear life as Barclay joins their hands and guides his fingers along his dick, forces his mind to memorize the movements and shapes for next time.

Barclay cums with a groan, flinging his hands up to cup Joseph's head and kiss him. There’s cum on his arm, on Joseph’s fingers and now in his hair and he cannot bring himself to give a shit. Gradually the kisses trail to his cheeks, his neck, his collarbone, and then Barclay is nestling his head under his chin.

“I, um, I think it might have been a good thing. That first date. I can be overly focused on work, can forget to turn off the special agent questioning mode and just talk like a person. I’m glad you saw those parts of me and, um, and decided to give me another chance.”

“Hey, you saw that I could be kinda sensitive and stubborn when I think someone did something wrong and you still saved my ass from being humiliated on the internet.” Barclay sighs as Joseph pets his hair.

“Do you, um, want to keep getting to know each other? Good parts and bad?”

Barclay looks up at him. Sees him.

“Yeah, blue eyes, I do.”

[oikawaplssteponme]

PART 14 | previously: part 13 | masterlist

pairing: Katsuki Bakugou x fem! reader

ratings/warnings: swearing [some more soft bakugou oops]

synopsis: When UA’s hot heads, Katsuki Bakugou and you, are forced to put your hatred for each other aside and plan the third year Prom, things end up getting a little heated...

a/n: AHHHH ITS HERE!! omg this is the finale🥺 i will be posting a little epilogue after this but after that ‘Hot Heads’ will be completed :,) i cant even begin to thank you all for the support on this fic, i was so nervous to post this since it was my first mha fic but seeing how you all liked it meant so much💕💕 i wish you all a happy holidays if you are celebrating and if not, i wish you a wonderful end of the year :)) enjoy xx

•

Fourteen: remember

Bakugou stared out into the crowd of people until he found you. The two of you locked eyes, causing your face to grow indescribably hot. Bakugou reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. His hands were shaky as he attempted to unfold it.

“YOU’VE GOT THIS BAKUGOU!” cheered Kirishima, breaking the silence of the room.

“SHUT IT SHITTY HAIR!” Bakugou had opened the paper and looked at it. He looked over at you and down at the paper again. He sighed, crumpling the paper and turning it to ashes.

“So here’s the deal. There’s, uh, this girl…”

Oh my god.

“And this girl is a complete pain in my ass,” he smirked. You felt everyone’s eyes shift over onto you but you kept your on Bakugou.

“This girl drives me crazy. She pushes all my buttons. This girl gets on all my last nerves…”

“...But I wouldn’t trade this girl for the whole world.”

Your eyes began to get glossy. You cupped your burning cheeks into your cold hands, attempting to hold back a smile.

“I fucked up what I had with this girl and I don’t deserve her one bit but… I just need her to hear this.” Bakugou took a deep breath.

“Look, that bullshit I said in the common area? It was just that. Bullshit. The thing is, as you probably know by now… I’m pretty shit at telling people how I really feel. So, uh, when it came to you… I panicked. It’s a hell of a lot easier to pretend you don’t care. When I said that I don’t care about you, it's because in all honesty it's the exact opposite. I care about you more than I’ve ever cared about anyone in my entire life...”

“...and that terrifies me because what if I’m not there to protect you? Fuck- that day when you fainted during training, I felt like a failure. It was my fault that you got hurt so I promised that I would never hurt you again. Clearly, I-uh, need to do better since I’m making this apology right now,” he said nervously. You shook your head, a few tears rolling down your cheeks.

“You’re the only person who can put me in my place. The only person I’ve ever opened up to. The only person who can keep up with me. I-I’m honestly such a mess without you.”

“IT’S TRUE!” budded in Kirishima. Bakugou gave him a glare before turning back to you.

“Fuck- from the moment I laid eyes on you I knew that I wanted nothing more than for you to be mine. I may have been pretty shit at showing it but it's true. Of course you and I both know that things between us didn’t go that way. From our first year, we were constantly competing with each other, which I didn’t mind since I got to be around you. And now that I was forced to plan this shitty dance with you, I remembered why I...why I-uh…”

[earlier that day]

“Bakugou we’re supposed to be helping to set up-”said Kirishima. Bakugou didn’t release Kiri from his grip, dragging him to the dorms.

“I need your help with something…” mumbled Bakugou.

“Well you can let go of me.” Bakugou led him to the common area couches, letting go of him. Bakugou sat down across from him with his arms crossed.

“What’s going on man?” asked Kirishima. Bakugou looked down at the ground.

“I fucked up…”

“Yeah you do that a lot. What’s the actual problem?” Bakugou huffed.

“I want to tell someone something but I don’t know how…”

“Tell them what?” Bakugou kept quiet.

“Come on man, I gotta know in order to help you out,” insisted Kiri. Bakugou took a deep breath.

“I want to tell someone I love them but I don’t know how…”

Kirishima’s eyes widened.

“This is about Y/N, isn’t it?”

“WHAT- UH- fuck...yeah it is.”

“Well you definitely messed that up when you told her you don’t like her,” teased Kiri.

“Don’t remind me… you idiots made me nervous with all your damn questions…”

“Why don’t you just tell her? It’s kinda obvious she feels the same. Or she’s still mad at you.”

“I CAN'T JUST TELL HER! W-what would I even say?” Bakugou buried his face into the palms of his hands. Kirishima laughed.

“Wow you really do love her, if not you wouldn’t be so nervous about this. Why don’t you just straight up tell her. Blurt it out.”

“She won’t talk to me. She hates me…”

“We both know she doesn’t. You both have a tendency to say crap you don’t mean in the heat of a moment.”

“When would I even tell her?”

“It doesn’t matter so much ‘when’, more so ’how’. Make sure she knows how you feel. Expressing your emotions is super manly.” Bakugou sighed.

“Fuck-I just hope she still feels the same.”

“She will, man.”

Your heart was pounding out of your chest. Bakugou looked directly into your eyes from the stage.

“I remembered why I fell in love with you in the first place. That’s right Y/N L/N, I am in love with you. I don’t give a fuck if these damn extra’s hear me because you are the only person I care about. If I have to spend one more second away from you I might just lose my damn mind because I love you Y/N. I do. Fuck- I really do.”

Bakugou was shaking slightly, the microphone he held was covered in his sweat. The entire room went silent, all eyes on you.

You wiped the stray tears from your face. You grabbed part of your dress, lifting it up above the ground slightly for you to walk. You walked towards the stage. Your breath was shallow, nervous was an understatement. You came face to face with Katsuki. His eyes stared into yours. You moved your hand up, placing it gently against Bakugou’s cheek.

“I didn’t take you for a confession kind of guy,” you smirked. Bakugou smiled.

“Well you’re lucky I love you dumbass. I wouldn’t have done that for anyone else.”

“Well good thing you’ll never have to.”

You grabbed Bakugou’s suit jacket and pulled him in to kiss you. He instantly held your face, keeping you close to him. It wasn’t until the room was filled with clapping and cheering that you remembered that you weren’t alone. You smiled against Bakugou’s lips and broke from the kiss, your face burning. You buried your face into Bakugou’s chest and looked down at your friends, who gave you big smiles and thumbs up.

“Damn extras…” mumbled Bakugou. You chuckled, taking his hand and leading him off the stage.

“WELL FOLKS THAT WAS JUST BEAUTIFUL! I LOVE LOVE!” cheered Present Mic, “I can't even remember what we were doing before that…”

You rejoined your friends on the floor. Bakugou’s face was a bright pink but you didn’t bother him too much about it.

“Well that just happened,” you smiled. Bakugou wrapped his arm around you, kissing the top of your head.

“I love you dumbass.”

“I love you too.”

~

The rest of the night was perfect. Todoroki ended up winning Prom King and Bakugou certainly wasn’t gonna let him live that down. Momo won Queen, even giving a speech thanking everyone who voted for her. You and Bakugou were inseparable the rest of the dance. You even forced him to do the photo booth with you. Reluctant of course, but he even had a small smile on his face when the camera clicked.

“See! Told you it would look good,” you said, holding the picture.

“Mind if I keep it?” He asked. You smiled.

“Not at all.”

When Prom ended, it was just you and Bakugou in the theater. You both were picking up whatever leftover trash people had left. Everyone else had headed back to the dorms for an ‘after party’.

“We could probably take care of all this tomorrow,” you said.

“Mind if we do something before we go?” He asked. You nodded. Bakugou took your hands, placing it on his shoulders. He then placed his on your waist and held you close.

“I was hoping to get to dance with you princess, if that’s okay?” You smiled, resting your head on his chest.

“Even if the whole world was watching I’d still dance with you Katsuki.”

“Lucky for me that I get to dance with my world.”

•

[taglist CLOSED: @vangoghpoets @vangoghmusings @bokutory @complimentaryhugsgirl @cloudswriting @kriswu46 @neodnyl @evivn1 @jazzylove @mileven-reddie @whalerus @misssugarless @random-fandom-girl-24 @fanfiction-and-stress @ushiwakatrash @minhoswife @addictofsupernatural @the-shota-king-masayuki @freyafolkvangr @fourteenow @tamaguchi @lalayy @athenarosaline @blxck-coffee @katsukibabe @thatonegeekchick @that-chick212 @bibly @nxynxy @theunknownrandom @flustered-blue-eyed-sex-muffin @94potterhead @moonlightaangel @katusukisbitch2000 @secondchoicealwaysandforever @salsaedx @ukaisgratefulwhore @lucyheartfilias-wife @lanaxians-2]

[dex-xe]

BBC Ghosts x Eurovision

No one asked for this (and I’ve already seen a few people discussing this but haven’t seen anyone go into much detail) but here are some headcanons about the ghosts watching Eurovision 2021!! Eurovision has been one of my special interests since I was a little kid so combining it with my current special interest just seems right!!

(Also pls comment your own headcanons or even better send them to my inbox AND also send new headcanon topics for us to chat about cause I’ve missed doing that!!)

- Firstly it’s definitely Mike’s doing,, Alison jokes it’s a bit tacky and kinda cringe and Mike is *deeply* offended insisting the tack is what makes it fun.

- Alison also really enjoys it but also enjoys teasing Mike about his affinity

- Alison shows the ghosts a few YouTube clips of old years

- Kitty, Mary, and Humphrey are all well up for watching straight away,, also Pat but we’ll talk about him in a minute.

- Robin doesn’t really get the point (countries are a stupid idea according to him so having a country based competition where people actually get serious about it is just daft).

- Thomas and Fanny both hate the clips they’re shown and call it the “lowest form of entertainment” they’ve ever seen.

- The Captain is also above it... or so he says but he finds his foot tapping along to Emmilie De Forest and is *horrified* at himself

- Julian is straight away racist,, a comment here about EU bureaucracy, another snipe there about Russia. Alison shuts his complaining down very quickly and tells him he can’t say anything he wouldn’t be happy someone saying about the UK or else his phone privileges will be taken away.

- Pat is the only ghost who has seen Eurovision before (Julian has always refused on principle).

- He used to watch it with his family and put on a proper spread for everyone (cause we all know Pat was the family cook). I’m talking mini sausage rolls, tiny sandwiches, a cheese and pineapple hedgehog (totally not what my family does for Eurovision every year... hmmm) and then also a trifle cause it’s the most English pudding ever and you gotta support the home side.

- (I’m hungry,, can you tell??)

- Once Alison has explained to them how the show works, most of them agree to watch - Thomas once he learns of the beautiful women competing and Fanny the same with the men.

- The Captain however begins taking it very seriously once he starts to realise the tactical elements of it,, while he likes the performances, he spends the entire afternoon rewatching previous years scoring segments making mental notes of what gets support and who votes for who.

- The evening comes round and everyone gathers to watch in the TV room.

- The second the flag parade starts everyone is engrossed - even Fanny can marvel at the spectacle of it.

- (I’m not gonna talk about every performance cause Jeez that’s long but here are what I think everyone’s favourites would be.

- Robin really loves Finland and Italy,, anything loud and rocky he’s straight up off the floor and jumping along (same Robin, same) but he falls completely silent and watches in awe at the Spanish entry because of the giant moon (he then also asks Alison to buy a huge moon for the living room - she’s says she’ll think about it).

- Kitty is fully rooting for Malta - Lizzo girlboss vibes is what Kitty lives for. It’s also helped that Alison expressed quite an interest for that one as well.

- Thomas is expecting to like the pretty girls but absolutely falls for Switzerland straight away. Curly haired, blouse-wearing emotional guy with incredibly dramatic dancing is just 😍😍 for him (same Thomas,, can’t decide if he’s very attractive or if it’s gender envy or what??).

- Julian supports the UK... he thinks the song is shit but cannot bring himself to compliment anyone else.

- Pat is an Iceland kind of guy (ily dadi,, you were robbed #eurovision2020winners) and he fully finds himself trying to dance along, smiling all the way through their performance. He likes the weirder ones,, the ones were everyone is clearly just having a blast.

- Humphrey likes the emotional ones,, Bulgaria is a favourite. Righttttt up until France - he picked up a little French from his wife, enough to figure out what Barbara’s talking about and is just in tears by the end.

- Mary actually finds herself enjoying the more folky, traditionally European ones. This comes back to my Morris/folk dancing Mary so I feel like she’d appreciate like Ukraine and Russia - also for the like strong woman aesthetic.

- Fanny is abhorred by the outfits and music but does join Julian in his reluctant support of the UK, she instead prefers to mutter her abuses of the skimpy outfits to the Captain.

- The Captain is also drawn in by the emotional ones like Humphrey, specifically France again. However, a shaggy and shirtless Damiano David jumping about the place in eyeliner and tight trousers awakens something in him he didn’t know was there. He’s horrified by the group and the loudness and the outfits and everything but is also very much intrigued in a way that disturbs him.

- Mike also likes Italy quite a bit cause he’s an Arctic Monkeys/Killers kinda guy (he is,, don’t @ me cause me tooooo Mike) and Alison tends to agree with him but also, like I said, agrees with Kitty on the girl power ones.

- Once the scoring starts, the ghosts start getting noisier and talking amongst themselves about the acts and who they would vote for (they’re not allowed to vote cause Alison refuses to pay for her dead housemates to get a vote each).

- The Captain edges closer to the TV as the others talk over his beloved scoring system, completed overshadowing the research the Captain has done.

- It ends with the Captain sat cross legged in front of the TV with Humphrey in his lap explaining precisely what was happening to Humphrey.

- When it gets towards the end everyone hushes up and they all watch as Italy win. Most of them celebrate.

- Fanny is greatly disturbed by the winners and laments the state of music these days. The Captain vocally agrees but also can’t draw his eyes from the screen.

- Julian has some very choice words for the public for giving the UK a big fat 0.

- Kitty says she’s just glad that everyone had a good time and enjoyed their performances. She also wishes that she could go to the show (don’t we all).

But yeah that’s my collection of headcanons for Eurovision,, once again proving I am a massive nerd who spends too much time putting together little stories.

Anyway,, if you have any more Eurovision headcanons feel free to comment them or send them to my inbox so I can reply and add to them. Similarly, if you have any other shows/music/events/literally anything that you think I should make ghosts headcanons for or that you have hcs for then send them over to my inbox as well!! Love yall stay safe, drink some water if you’ve managed to read this far :)

[livesincerely]

im not feeling the best right now emotionally so i am here presenting you with a free space to ramble about whatever you want because your writing genuinely cheers me up so much

Hello darling!! I’m sorry you’re in a rough mindset, sending all the good feelings and well wishes your way 😘💕✨💗⭐️💕😊✨💗

So, I’ve been thinking a lot about that most recent, how would a proposal/wedding happen in the domestic au? prompt.

It’s so funny, I’d never really thought about a domestic au wedding until I got the ask, but now that the question was put forward, I’m finding that I have a lot of thoughts about it (because of course I do lol.)

I’m not sure yet if this will end up being a whole thing like the holiday fic did, but I definitely have a solid idea for a single moment/one shot that I’m excited about—hoping to get that finished in the next few days!

Here’s a sneak peek at what I have so far! Most of it is stuff you’ve seen before in that original ask but more polished, but there’s some new stuff in there too.... ☺️😉

00000

“So, when are you gonna get married?” Tony asks apropos of nothing, looking between him and Davey with keen interest.

Jack barely manages to keep from choking on his cereal. Davey, who’d been in the middle of spreading a bit of lox on a bagel, slowly sets down his knife.

Charlie aims a kick at Tony under the table.

“You’re asking them now?” he hisses. “I thought we were gonna ease them into the idea!”

“There is no easing them into the idea when it comes to Jack and Davey,” Tony says, his expression tight with the exasperation of the long suffering. “You gotta give it to ‘em straight, right from the get go, ‘cause they’ll never figure it out on their own.”

“Hey,” Jack says weakly, but he doesn’t have a leg to stand on and they all know it.

“So, I’m asking,” Tony determinedly continues as if Jack hadn’t said anything. “When are you gettin’ married?”

There’s a long pause where he and Davey just stare at each other, neither of them quite sure how to respond.

He gets this from you, Davey’s expression says, clear as day.

I know he does, Jack says with a commiserating look, holding back a sigh.

“Well?” Tony demands when the silence stretches on for too long.

“It’s probably a little soon to be thinking about marriage,” Davey eventually says, far more delicately than Jack would’ve managed. “We haven’t talked about it at all yet⁠—”

“Because we only just got together yesterday, Tony,” Jack dryly interjects. “In case you forgot about that little detail.”

“—And we should probably start with the question of if we want to get married before we jump to the when,” Davey concludes.

Tony’s nose scrunches up, obviously dissatisfied with this answer.

“Of course you’re gonna get married,” he says, as if this is plainly obvious. “You’re basically married already, I just wanna know when the wedding’s gonna be.”

“Um.” Davey’s gone faintly pink. “Well, like I said, Jack and I haven’t talked about anything like that yet. We’re comfortable the way we are now, no need to rush into anything⁠—”

“And since we literally only just got together yesterday,” Jack says again, a little more emphatically, just to make sure the point lands, “getting married right off the bat would be all kinds of crazy.”

Tony levels him with the flattest look in all of existence. “You’re crazy if you think you haven’t already been married to Davey for years.”

Jack’s voice catches in his throat, a little blindsided by the truth of that statement. Davey’s mouth opens and closes, the rosy flush of his cheeks shading a touch deeper.

“We’re not thinking about gettin’ married just yet,” Jack says once he’s steadied himself, in a tone that brooks no further arguments. “Dave and I will talk about it when the time comes, if⁠,” he stresses clearly, “we decide that’s what we want.”

“But what, exactly, is holding you back?” Tony asks, stubbornly brooking further arguments anyway. “Like, do you have any actual reasons?”

“I’m pretty sure that’s none of your business,” Jack snipes back. “Given that that’ll be a conversation between me and Davey.”

“I just don’t understand what the big deal is,” Tony says, crossing his arms across his chest. “Pretty much nothing would change, except that the next time someone assumes that you two are married, they’d actually be right instead of simply noticing what was so obvious that even complete strangers clue in to it⁠—”

“Tony,” Jack groans.

“—coming to the perfectly understandable conclusion that you’re together⁠—”

“Tony, that’s enough, we get it,” Jack says.

“—instead of the inexplicable reality of the situation which was that you were, in fact, not together, despite being in love with each other for eight entire years because you’re idiots⁠—”

Jack covers his face with his hands.

“—and given that, like, every aspect of your lives are already tangled together, it’s not really that big of a step for you to just go ahead and make it official.”

Jack sighs so hard he feels it in his bones. “If we promise to talk about this, will you please stop talking about it?”

“Eight years, Jack!” Tony cries, impassioned. “That’s half of my life! That’s more than half of Charlie’s life!”

“Do not bring me into this,” Charlie quickly interjects, “I am a passive witness and nothing more.”

“You’re such a fucking turncoat, Choo-choo,” Tony mutters with no real heat. “You’re supposed to have my back on this.”

“Maybe if you could ever actually stick to a plan,” Charlie grumbles back.

“We’ll talk about it,” Jack says loudly, interrupting their bickering before it can gain any ground. “Okay?”

There’s a moment of blessed silence.

Then Tony says, “So, like, right now? Or…?”

“Sure!” Jack says, throwing his hands up in defeat. “Why not? Clearly, I’m not gonna get any fucking peace until this is sorted—

“Finally!” Tony exclaims. “God, was that so hard?”

“—so go away,” Jack finishes.

Tony’s mouth falls open.

“What do you mean, go away?” he protests, looking genuinely shocked. “Why?”

“What do you mean, why? I’m not gonna let you sit here and fucking… moderate our conversation, dumbass,” Jack sputters. “Get out!”

“But I really feel like this is the kinda conversation that needs moderating,” Tony disagrees. “It’s not like either of you have a great track record for effective communication⁠—”

“Anthony Ethan Higgins,” Jack warns, nearly at the end of his rope.

Tony rolls his eyes so hard his whole body moves with the motion. “I am literally just trying to help, you don’t gotta get all defensive about it⁠—”

“Jesus Christ, Tony,” Jack says, completely and utterly done. “Will you please just⁠— Just go somewhere that isn’t here.”

“But are you gonna talk about it?” Tony insists, really digging in his heels. “Because if you’re just gonna not talk about it the second I leave then I think I should⁠—”

“Tonio, juro por Dios—”

“Tony, honey,” Davey finally steps back into the fray, far calmer than he has any right to be, and somehow, miraculously, Tony’s mullish expression softens into something a little chagrined. Jack gapes, wrong-footed by the sudden change. “I think you’ve made your point and given Jack more than enough heart attacks for one morning, yeah? So why don’t you go ahead and give us a few minutes, and I promise we’ll talk about it.”

Tony deflates. “Yeah, okay.”

“Thank you, baby.”

Tony shuffles away, mollified for now. Davey pauses, then says, “Charlie, that means you too.”

“But I didn’t do anything!” Charlie protests. “I’m just sittin’ here, tryin’ to eat.”

He takes an exaggerated bite of his bagel as if to prove his point, eyes extra wide and innocent.

“Charlie.”

“But my food!”

“Take it with you,” Davey suggests, very patiently.

Charlie looks as though that thought hadn’t occurred to him.

“Okay,” he says, scooping up his plate and scurrying after his brother. He hesitates in the doorway, then adds, “My vote is for an autumn wedding, if that counts for anything.”

“Charlie.”

“Going!”

Once he’s sure they’re both gone, Jack heaves another massive sigh.

“They’re such a pair of little shits,” he says, to Davey and the world at large. “Fucking hell.”

Davey takes a drink of his coffee, holding out his other hand to Jack in offering. Jack reaches over and laces their fingers together, most of his irritation slipping away in an instant at the simple contact.

“But he is right, you know,” Davey comments lightly.

“I know he’s right,” Jack grumbles, rubbing his thumb over Davey’s knuckles. “Don’t mean he ain’t a little shit.”

“Well, naturally,” Davey agrees. “He’s related to you.”

“Oh, please,” Jack says with a snort. “That little spiel of his was all you. ‘The inexplicable reality of the situation’,” he mimics, his voice landing in some strange imitation of Tony mixed with Davey, which ends up not really sounding like either of them. “It was like hearin’ your voice comin’ outta Tony’s mouth.”

“And it was a well thought-out argument,” Davey says pertly, the corner of his mouth quirking up into a wry grin. “His timing could use some work, though.”

“Ain’t that the fucking truth,” Jack says, taking a bite of his cereal⁠ and immediately making a face—it’s gone all gross and soggy during the craziness, because of course it has. He pushes the bowl away with a mournful look. “Didn’t even let us finish breakfast before pouncing.”

“Well, it has been eight years,” Davey says, and he’s definitely laughing a little now. “Guess he’s afraid of a repeat performance.”

“Sure,” Jack says with a shrug, because that part had been hard to argue with. More than half of Charlie’s life, Jesus. “But he was talkin’ like he expected us to walk down the aisle this afternoon. I mean, we can’t just get married. You don’t just get married.”

“Most people don’t,” Davey says, tilting his head. “But then, we aren’t really most people, are we, darling?”

It takes a moment for this statement to fully land for Jack⁠, and when it finally does, it lands with a boom.

“Are you sayin’ you’d marry me?” Jack asks, utterly floored, his heart pounding an unsteady rhythm in his chest.

“Are you asking me?” Davey asks, calmly sipping his coffee like he isn’t rocking Jack’s world, right here over breakfast, for the second time in not even two days.

[writer-k-pop]

Crushing Phonecalls

언젠가 업보가 그를 찾아올 것이다. Someday karma will come for him. 

Description: Anxiously waiting for the proposal decision from your workplace, you go and visit Jimin in the practice studio, hoping to take your mind off of the impending decision. But a phone call in the middle of their practice crushes your soul. And the following phone call does nothing to help it. But Jimin decides to say something about it. Warnings: Swearing, some verbal workplace bullying Genre: Angst, Fluff, Idol!Jimin x Fem!Reader Word Count: 2k

BTS Masterlist | Masterlists

"Heyyyy!" Jimin greets me happily as I walk into the practice room.

"Hello, there." I smile and open my arms just before he barrels into me.

"Hey, (y/n)." Jungkook waves a hand at me and the others give me smiles and waves as well.

I wave back with Jimin still holding onto me. "Hey guys."

"Did you get done with the proposal?" Jimin asks, pulling back but keeping his hands on my shoulders.

I nod, my body still buzzing with nervousness. "I don't know if we'll get it though." I sigh.

"Why not?" Jimin tilts his head to the side, "You worked so hard on it. i'm pretty sure that kind of hard work will get picked."

"The other proposal is made by Ashton, the CEO's son." I shrug and my shoulders want to cower away from the thoughts that flood my mind.

"What does that matter?" He wonders and pulls me out of the way of the door.

"He, uh, has often pulled strings for his son." I scratch the surface of the real reason.

"What does that mean?" He asks in a low voice, keeping the conversation from curious ears.

"It's nothing." I smile at him, wanting to keep my more serious work troubles away from him.

"No, I want to know." He pushes with concerned eyes, "Is he hurting you?"

I hesitate before shaking my head, "Not physically." I sigh, "He just makes it a point to berate me and my team, and degrade our work."

"That little shit." Jimin says through gritted teeth.

"It's fine, Jimin." I reassure him, "My manager told me that our proposal is really good and all the other department managers like my proposal better, so I shouldn't worry. But I do."

"You're nervous. That makes sense. You worked for weeks on this." Jimin nods, "I mean, if the managers are all on board with your proposal then maybe that little shit will be put in his place. When do they decide?"

"They're having the meeting today but I don't know when they'll inform us of the decision." I tell him with an attempt at a reassured smile.

"You'll let me know the outcome?" He asks, "I want to celebrate with you when they choose your proposal."

My smile changes to cover up my doubt and, from what I can see, Jimin buys it. "For sure."

He smiles and gives me a cheeky smile. "Good." He presses a soft kiss to my cheek.

Jin claps his hands loudly at us and Jimin whips around, "Yes?" He drags out the word dramatically.

"Chop, chop. I have dance moves to learn." Jin says and puts his hands on his hips, giving back the sass that Jimin gave him.

I grab Jimin's hand and drag him over to where the other guys are standing together. "Here he is." I tell them with a playful smile, and then I turn to him, "I'm going to be watching you for mistakes."

"Oh, I'm so scared." He rolls his eyes and shakes his hands out by his face. I shove his shoulder with a laugh.

"Then you better do well." I stick out my tongue at him before sitting down against the mirror.

Crossing my legs in front of me, I watch their rehearsals with most of my attention on them. The rest of my attention feels for any notification on my phone that my hands grip tightly.

I normally would enjoy BTS's rehearsals but today, I'm just too nervous and anxious to thoroughly enjoy it. Just as my team and I were finishing our day, Ashton decided to shout across the whole floor and berate us. Specifically our chances that our proposal would be chosen. He shouted that we had just wasted countless hours, created garbage, and that we should be embarrassed that we submitted the proposal to the board.

The whole thing just put me in a constant nervous state. My body feels like a electricity current is running through my whole body, buzzing like I just finished an hour long ride on one of those old metal scooters over bumpy black tar.

After twenty minutes of watching the boys dance, pause, talk through, learn, and then start dancing again, my phone starts to vibrate with a call and I literally jump to my feet. Seeing my manager's name on my screen, I quickly catch Jimin's gaze and motion that I'm going into the hallway. Not waiting for his response, I open the door and shut it before answering the call.

"Hey, Lisa." I breathe out, my heart pounding in my head as I walk down the hall, away from the practice room. "What's up?" I ask, leaning back against the wall.

"Hey, (y/n)." Lisa says with a heavy sigh and my heart drops below the basement floors of the building. "The meeting just ending and they made a decision." She says.

"Not good?" I ask trying to lessen the blow.

"I'm sorry." She sighs again, "The CEO overruled all the board members and chose Ashton's proposal."

My eyes close in disappointment and my shoulders sag under the weight of Lisa's words.

"But you should know that all the board members voted for your proposal over Ashton's." Lisa continues talking when I don't say a word, "You and your team did such good work and you should be proud of that."

"Yeah, I, uh, yeah. Thanks for letting me know, Lisa." I tell her, wanting to get off of this phone call as soon as possible.

"An email's being sent out to your team so you won't have to tell them." She informs me, "I'm sorry, (y/n)."

"Thanks, Lisa." I thank her and then hang up.

A cry hiccups through my chest and I bend my knees to sit on my heels with my back still pressed against the wall. I squeeze my eyes tighter and will myself not to cry. Not here. Not now.

I really thought we were going to be chosen. My whole team worked so hard. They're going to be crushed when they read that email.

Groaning, I let my head fall forward and my arms rest on my knees, phone still clutched in my hand. I sigh heavily and a wave of anger for the CEO washes over me.

How could he choose his son over a really good proposal? The entire board voted for ours but he chose his son.

My phone starts to ring with another call. Thinking it's one of my team members, I answer it without looking at the caller ID.

"Hello?" I answer the call, keeping as much disappointment out of my voice as possible.

"HA!" A male voice shouts on the other end of the line and I recognize the mocking tone immediately: Ashton.

My jaw involuntarily clenches in anger.

"I TOLD YOU I'D WIN OVER YOU." Ashton says with a cocky edge to his voice, "MY PROPOSAL IS SO MUCH BETTER THAN YOURS. AND I DIDN'T EVEN PUT IN AS MUCH WORK. HA. HA. HA."

Running a hand slowly through my hair, I slowly pull the phone away from my ear as tears line my closed eyes. Even though my phone is away from my ear, I can still hear Ashton's voice.

"I knew you weren't that good at your job." He cackles, "You weren't ever good but this is just proof. And it shows that your ideas are trash. That team of yours can't even tell you how bad your ideas are. You really must be a shitty leader."

The first tear falls and lands on my pant leg, creating a single dark spot.

"Unless, the proposal ideas came from them and you were too dumb to see how awful they were." Ashton continues, "That's gotta be it! You're just dumb!"

Just a sob pushes past my lips, the phone is yanked out of my hand. I look up as Jimin turns the call on speaker and talks back to Ashton. I can feel the anger rolling off of his shoulders.

"Hi, who is this?" He asks, his voice dangerously low.

"Uh... isn't this (y/n)'s number?" Ashton repeats the question, unsure of himself.

"I don't know a (y/n). But you sound like a shitty person." Jimin lies through gritted teeth. "What kind of self absorbed, sad, 10-year-old man are you? You really think that you're being cool by calling someone dumb? Or their team members? Where the hell is your humility? Where the hell is your humanity?" He scoffs, "Oh, no, I got it, you must not have a brain." He says before quickly ending the call.

A few more tears managed to slip down my cheeks but I'm too stunned at Jimin's outburst to wipe them away. Jimin tucks my phone in his back pocket and turns to face me after exhaling. Noticing my tears, he quickly knees down next to me and wipes them away.

"Hey." He almost whispers with a small comforting smile.

"I can't believe that lame excuse for a man is the CEO's son." He says before wrapping me up in a hug. "Don't listen to him. He speaks lies. You and your team are so smart. You worked so hard on that proposal and you should be nothing but proud about your work."

I sniffle at his words and a few tears fall.

"You will keep your head high and not let that man's words make you doubt yourself." Jimin continues, rubbing a hand on my back. "Every word he said was false. Every single word. Someday karma will come for him. And I hope to god that you're there when it strikes him down."

I pull back with a choked laugh, "I don't think I want to be around for that." I tell him.

His hands rest on my cheeks and his thumbs brush away the fallen tears. "Either way, I still hope that karma takes him down in the cruelest of ways."

Jimin smiles warmly at me, "You did so good. And I'm so proud of you." He says and my heart swells. "So, so proud of you."

I return his smile and take a deep breath. "Thank you." I whisper.

"I'm always proud of you." He states before leaning in to softly kiss my lips.

After resting my forehead against his for a second, I pull back and ask, "How much did you hear?"

"I heard enough." He shrugs but I can hear just how much anger is laced in his voice.

"You heard it all." I correct him and shake my head, looking down to my lap.

"Hey." Jimin says and uses his finger to lift my chin back up, "Head high. You did really good work. Be proud of that."

I nod, determined to make myself see that and believe it. "I did good work. My team did good work."

"Exactly." He encourages me.

I pull him in for a hug and rest my cheek on his shoulder, "Thank you, Jimin."

"No need to thank me, dear." He pats my back, "I will always do what is necessary."

"Even if it means lying about who's phone you're answering?" I ask, releasing him from my embrace.

He chuckles and I love the sound. "I would pretend to be anyone to anyone who is bringing you down."

"Noted." I say with a genuine smile.

"If you're up for it, we're all going out to dinner tonight, if you want to join." Jimin offers and stands up with a hand extended to help me up, "Oh, and Jungkook said he's paying."

I raise an eyebrow at him, "Did he say it or...?"

Jimin sighs, having been caught, "He lost a game so now he's gotta pay up."

"You guys are awful." I shake my head at him.

"But you're going to come, aren't you?" He guess with a knowing look.

I slap my hand into his and smirk, "Hell yeah I'm going."

Jimin pulls me up and wraps an arm around my waist protectively.

"Should we tell the guys so we can go show this Ashton jerk a lesson?" He whispers as we walk back down towards the practice room.

I slap his chest with a laugh, "What happened to waiting for karma?"

"Just offering to speed up the process." He laughs.

[seostudios]

GEEK CHARMING: MARK LEE

pairing: mark lee x fem!reader genre: rom-com, fluff, angst, comedy info: high school!au, film-club-kid!mark, diva!reader, non-idol!au, mentions of other members (principle!sicheng, car!jeno, student-body-president!doyoung,  film-club-kid!johnny, film-club-kid!jungwoo) synopsis: You are Yonsei Academy's peachy princess, having the best boyfriend, the most fashionable friends of mos, always updated with the latest trends in fashion. But you come face-to-face with your own personal creature-self-professed film nerd, Mark Lee, when you scratch your Holli crystal-embellished ROSANTICA purse. In exchange for her purse repair she let Mark film her for his high school popularity documentary. Reluctantly, you let low-class Mark into your A-list universe, and you are stunned to discover that nerds can be pretty awesome at times. However when your pro-claimed, boyfriend charming prince dumps you flat, your life and social status drops. Would you still win Spring Formal Queen at Yonsei Academy now? Will Mark win the Annual Film Festival?  Could even you put together the pieces to bring back your happy-ever-after, with Mark 's help? warnings: swearing, mention of alcohol word count: 7.5k tag-list: @count-your-shadows​ @jimjamjaemin @minaczennie @renjunvinates @pervieve @rjoonie @marksrainbow@commentgirl @rarestgrace @08skrr @bangtanismylifw @traashytae @superheros-and-others @johnnysnipple @00-baejin-05

a/n: this is the longest writing piece i’ve written yet on this blog and it’s inspired by a disney movie?! behold geek charming starring mark lee. your local film club nerd entering the school’s prissy princess’s life but did that make her finally turn back from her arogant ways or did it make her more of a bitch!! >_< i’m actually so happy

"I'm proud to announce this year's Annual Yonsei Spring Formal Queen Kang-" 

"Hello? Y/n? Snap out of it." Your train of thought quickly crashed as you direct your attention to the student body president, Kim Doyoung. "Y-Yes?" You ask, straightening your posture. "I asked if you are applying for Spring Formal Queen?" He put a question to, waiting for a response. Viewing as you turn to Sooyoung, who delivers you a pen, jerking it out her hand, you grab the clipboard from the plastic table in front of you, signing your signature on to the paper. Making sure your sign was large enough to cover most slots of the page. 

"Toodles," You sang to Doyoung before you and the girls walk away. “Next!”

The three of you strut down the narrow hallway, Sooyoung and Yuna trailing behind you, "This year is going to be our year ladies," you look over on both sides to see them smiling wide grins enveloping onto their lips, as they stopped to walk at your pace, "Once I'm crowned Queen of the Spring Formal, it's guaranteed I'm the well-liked, prettiest and just overall the best here at Yonsei," you finish halting your steps at the door frame of the cafeteria. Looking over your shoulder, you make a gagging motion with your finger to the pack of hungry students. In front of you three, you decide to walk through the tables showing the two lingering behind how you'd win the students' heart if you already haven't.

Walking by a table with miniature stage set-ups, you see three students huddled together revising a script "Drama kids," You start "They'll be an easy vote seeing how they just adore my dramatic gestures," Making your way down a couple more tables "Film club nerds..." You start to roll your eyes coming up with a reason why they would vote for you. "You're like a movie star to them," Sooyoung quickly interjected watching as your flip your head to pose.

You stride down some more, "I can't believe you used to be friends with Shin Ryunjin." Yuna throws in as you walk by the stage crew table. "I know right," Sooyoung agrees. "It's a burden I carry, but at least I traded up to you two." You say earning beaming smiles on both sides.

"Y/n!" Someone called, skipping happily towards you. It was Jisoo. "I got bangs since you said they would suit me! I couldn't agree more, thanks!" She beams, "Of course, just want the best for you!" You smile, reciprocating the energy she gave off until she walks off to her friends. "See? People know I care. This will be a piece of cake."  You said before stopping in your tracks to see, Jung Wonyoung; your biggest competition at Yonsei Academy. Yuna and Sooyoung see you as someone superior to them (right?). As a higher-ranked princess here at Yonsei you shouldn't let such a wretched thing like Jung Wonyoung get to you, especially with that tacky head-band she decided to pair with her uniform. But what good candidate for Spring Formal Queen would you be without a little competition, winning was a given but winning unopposed is an embarrassment. The girls notice your stink-eye towards the table and rather than letting yourself get angered in front of your girls, you oppose chatting in the most unaffected way you could muster up. "Whatever, we all understand who's gonna be crowned Queen, why let someone who pairs blue polka-dot headbands with navy plaid uniforms get in my way?" They hum in response as you two make your way to the popular table.

Yuna and Sooyoung took their seats in front of Jihoon, your lovely, amazing, perfect boyfriend, as you walked around to sit next to him. "Hi baby," He said, which sounded scripted but, you paid no attention to since he was your prince charming! His looks over-looking his flaws, you leave a small kiss on his cheek before digging into your meal.

You are finished your meal, getting up and walking to the bin to throw. On your way back you- BAM! Right on the chest, you are greeted with the expired milk the canteen provides having it spill all over your chest,  drenched. "Ugh!" You cry, a boy in front of you with his lunch tray now on the floor, his hair scruffed up with a school-provided bow-tie. "You- You geek!" You bark as he is taken aback with his words, but he isn't afraid. "You are so gro-oss!" You shout emphasizing the word gross he's already tired of your shit and it hasn't even been a minute since your first encounter. Without hesitating he relates "Actually gross is one syllable-", "I don't care just go- just go read a book or something, you nerd!" You argue not wanting to hear what he has to say before marching away out the cafeteria.

The boy watches as you make your way out the commissary. He kicks his tray to the side, walking back to his table with a glint of annoyance struck onto him.

"Dark Victory of course. It stars Bette Davis, George Brent and most importantly Humphrey Bogart from Casablanca." Jungwoo said swiftly to the two geeks in front of him. Johnny, the only one of the three who could properly score a date with the popular kids started a debate on which film from the late 1930s to the early '50s was le Meilleur which is French for  'the best'. "Did you forget The Great Lie? Probably one of Bette Davis's only good films since she has co-starred with the one and only Mary Astor" He argues speedily. "Hello??" Nayeon says budding in between, "A Stolen Life will remain the best film from the 40s, 50s, and possibly forever I will and could go on about-", "Looks like Film Club's assistant president finally showed up," Johnny says cutting off whatever nonsense Nayeon probably had to add to their already ridiculous conversation. "Sorry, I got stuck in traffic with Yonsei's little princess," Mark says with an obvious eye-roll.

"Watch your words Markie,"  Jungwoo quickly told him. "Her dad-"

"Who funds 75% of the school!" Johnny added, Jungwoo turned to his side giving an annoyed stare before looking back in front of him to Mark. "Her dad who funds 75% of the school. Will ruin you if he gets notice of his daughter's uniform being spoiled with the cafeteria's milk from a film geek." He finishes sipping on his water. Nayeon turned to him, "He can get our club shut down within minutes Mark, watch how you talk to her." 

"So what? Like they'll even come close to us." Mark scoffs, "They're like a whole new alien species." The two in front of them nod, but Nayeon is a little too distracted with the tuna sandwich her mom packed her. "You guys is it just me or is the tuna moving..." Nayeon says slapping Marks forearm softly to grab his, then everyone else's attention. Just before she did Mark's attention was already taken by something- or should I say someone else. "Hey Ryunjin," He quickly says waving towards the girl walking by towards the exit, she turns around to wave before heading out. That's where Johnny inquired, "Face it. You and Ryunjin" He brings his hands up and around to make an 'x' with it, "Never gonna happen." He says watching his shoulders sag slightly, "You've been crushing on her since what? 8th grade, and having numerous occasions to ask her out and not doing so. You missed your shot awhile back unless we had a time machine you and name are a no-go." He finished now invested in what Nayeon's sandwich was up to.

"I-I'd go out with you!" Nayeon says dropping the sandwich into Johnny's hands. "Look, I don't even have time for dating why would I even ask Ryunjin out? I'm cool with being known by her. Plus there's no way I'd do it now, the school board's Annual Film festival is only a little over a month away, I'm our school's candidate how do I mess up because I was distracted by some girl with purple highlights" He said flat-out ignoring Nayeon. "That's true," Johnny says leaning in, "And you are our school best shot at bringing home that huge ass trophy, what's the other prize again?" Jungwoo said agreeing before taking a bite of his pasta. "It's a summer getaway to a Hollywood film camp, I gotta win," Mark said signing the application forms he had in his pocket. "I'm supposed to be a cinematic genius, so what better to do than murder the competition and bring home a trophy after going on a getaway trip to Hollywood to better my knowledge I'm gonna be like the Frank Capra or Victor Fleming around here!"

Johnny grabs Marks's application form to read the requirements, "You have to document something and make it worthwhile..." He read aloud, "What's the documentary about?" Jungwoo asked, "I have no idea." Mark said before snatching the paper. "He has no idea...." Jungwoo whispered almost inaudible in disappointment. Mark writes down ideas on the back of the paper while discussing it with Jungwoo, "So," Johnny starts, "Wanna go out with me?" He said. "No." Nayeon answers strictly as if she was waiting to reject the boy who's attention was back onto her tuna sandwich.

"Anyway, I gotta go hand this into Principle Dong." Mark said witnessing the awkward interaction before getting up and leaving the vicinity

He was playing with the hourglass on his office desk when a knock on the door was heard. "Come in!" He chirped and in came a student. "Ah, Mark." He sang motioning the boy to sit down while he took his legs off the desk. "Came to finally hand me those application forms I've been begging your little club to hand over I see." He said noticing the paper in hand. "Haha, Yea," Mark said avoiding eye contact as he brought his hand up to hand the paper. "Can't wait to see what one of my star students has prepared for the Festival." He said opening the folded paper reading aloud, "A documentary about how lunch ladies keep old food fresh, and our bellies full," His voice started off strong going quieter word by word, looking up at him. "Yeah, you know how the lunch ladies always give us the same green looking sauce every day, or the same batch of oatmeal cookies from months back, every time we sink our teeth into it. It tastes fresh! I've always wanted to know and I think it'd be a cool thing to find out" Mark your blabbering, Is what Principle Dong wanted to tell him so he'd shut up. He didn't want a lame documentary about something to make his school look bad in to be put out in front of dozens of other schools. "Mark." He stops the boy, "Your artistic vision is lunch ladies?" He asked. "Yes, NO! But yes? I'm struggling I can't come up with a good topic that's not gonna bore students and teachers." Mark said. Mr.Dong could see how strongly Mark expressed his struggles with a mere school contest, he probably wants that prize more than anything. He knows he shouldn't help him, since it'd be unfair but he wasn't gonna let him put out something that can ruin his reputation. "Stop playing safe Mark. Challenge yourself by widening your perspective maybe instead of documenting lunch and stuff that you know will bore people and try going after something to catch their attention." Mark's eyes slowly open as he looks up to Principle Dong nodding understandingly "Alright I get it, I get it" He says before clasping his hands together. Mr.Dong sees his improvement and instead of picking another student to compete he can rely on Mark who's now being ushered out the room by him, "Now don't forget I need a new proposal by tomorrow." He said before shutting his door.

"Dude I know exactly what Mr.Dong was getting at,"  Jungwoo tells him. Their school day was over about two hours ago and now they were at their part-time job, at Yong's, a popular little cafe in the middle of a jam-packed shopping mall. "Something challenging...like I don't know maybe a certain diva you encountered during lunch?" His eyes lit up, looking over his shoulder to look at a grinning Jungwoo who flipped his non-existent long flocks of hair like he was the diva. "You're a genius!" Mark said now ecstatic, but quickly going back to his little stressed self, "No, but then how am I gonna convince her?" He said placing his hand up under his chin. 

The bell rings by the entrance, which meant there was a costumer quickly brushing off crumbs from a cupcake he snuck in he turns around to see his proposal for the Film Festival itself. You looked different, you were wearing a pair of plaid pants with a tightly fitted black turtleneck, accessorized by dangling earrings, a heart pendant necklace and a simple gold chain. Your face was quick to cringe after seeing who was about to take your order, "Ugh It's you." You spit looking him up and down, he doesn't look too bad out of school you thought before handing one of the many many bags of clothes to your father's butler. "Here Minho, get a seat for us, please," You tell him watching him rush to one of the many empty seats. "Hi, Welcome to Yong's what can I get for you today?" Mark asked, tone sounding uninterested. "Shouldn't you be happy to see me? I am a miraculous sight for sore eyes," You said getting a half-suppressed laugh from Mark. "Anyway, I would like a grande green tea latte. one pump classic, nonfat, 6 enormous scoops of matcha, 195 degrees, and ABSOLUTELY NO FOAM." You finish, right before starting back up again, "And,  I would like a venti caramel frappe with extra caramel drizzle." You finish finally reaching into your purse to pull out your (dad's) card. When you go to hand the card you see not only Mark but also Jungwoo looking at you, mouths open, jaws almost touching the floor. "Did you not get it? Do I have to repeat my order or something?" You say with a hint of irritation, "Ah- No. Sorry it'll  be 15.50" Mark said averting his gaze from you.

After paying you, tell Mark, "bring it to my table will you?" before walking off to Minho.

"Dude go," Now's Mark's time to actually shine. He makes sure the drinks are perfect knowing ruining them could ruin his entire attempt.  He strides along between the tables finally towards your booth handing you both your drinks. But Mark just stood there, you motioned with your hand as you would to stray animals. "Why are you just standing there, go do your job?" You said already bothered, "Nope, I have a proposal for you.", "Whatever it is, No." You said not even wanting to hear what he's got to say, "I'm gonna ask anyway." He said towering over you and you seated butler. "I want you to star in my movie for the Film Festival this year," You look up, surprised an obvious smile dancing over your lips. "What's it about?" You asked still not sure, "You! I'll have to document your lifestyle til the Spring Formal." Mark said. You bit your lip not knowing to go through or not, but it was a nice ego boost, having someone film your daily life, letting everyone know you got the best friends and most fashionable friends, a prince-charming and a purse worth more than your teacher's salary. Jung Wonyoung, who's also a runner up for Spring Formal Queen having the football team paint her posters and make pins but what's that compared to a freaking movie documenting your life...Winning this year is gonna be easier than expected. "Deal," You said, Mark, cheers a little too loud before bringing his hand out to shake, you reject kindly before letting him know "Don't look like a freaking weirdo at school though. We can start tomorrow at lunch," You finish before seeing him run off to Jungwoo.

Finally home being able to rest from begin outrageously gorgeous today you skip down to your bedroom, hoping into the shower then changing into a more comfortable attire. As of now you were in the middle of your bed doing some homework before the phone went off, it was a notification from Ryunjin, she tagged you in an Instagram post of you and her when you were younger. Your mom took that photo on the first day of grade school back when you and Ryunjin were inseparable. Mom died later that same year and it was heartbreaking but you were stronger than that you knew you shouldn't pity yourself, or have others pity you simply because she passed away, she wouldn't want you to be like that. 

It was a brand new day and Mark was in the principle's office, don't worry this star is nowhere near in trouble when Mark hands in his proposal. "This is marvellous, I can see the growth Mark. Please keep me updated,"  Mr.Dong said watching Mark skip away cheerfully to lunch, where he'd meet you. Fridays at Yonsei were known as the only days of the week students didn't have to wear uniforms to school which often made them pull together a swagger (Johnny's words not mine) outfit for the rest of the school to see. Mark wasn't one to dress up on these days so today he decided to wear his black and blue striped t-shirt paired with black denim jeans,  his black hair parted in the middle this time. He did not look like a film kid. He looked like he belonged to sit beside you, "Hey" you were busy opening up your lunch when he stood behind you with his camera. "Oh-" In all honesty, you thought he'd be wearing baggy trousers and a worn-out shirt but you were filled with joy to see him looking presentable to you. "Hey, sit." You said to him, "I'm gonna just cut to the chase and record..." He said fiddling with the camera for a minute too long, "A few rules before you point that thing in my face," you started as he lifted his face to see you, "Absolutely no filming my left side, no hanging a minute later after filming I need you out of my sight when I hear you say cut." You were strict but not so sure if you meant it. He gave you a thumbs up before clicking record.

"So, Y/n why are you so determined to be Queen at the annual Spring Formal" Mark asked zooming in and out for a few seconds finally focusing, "Because it ensures permanent popularity and I can't fall from my throne can I?" You ask, "Aren't you already popular?" He asked looking up from the camera confused, "Companies at the top of the list don't need to advertise but they do it because..?" , "They need to stay at the top of the list," Mark says understanding where you were getting at. "Exactly, it's not easy to be popular like me nowadays," You say placing your hair behind your ear, "So not easy being like Y/n" Yuna said, Sooyoung agreeing. "Girls not now, this is my time-" , "Actually if they wanna add something they-", "Being popular isn't something you can just fool around with, it's like royalty to us hormonal teens. It's not easy, I gotta live up to these beauty standards, and be on my A-Game whenever." You finish. Not knowing what to say next you smile at the camera hoping Mark would do something- anything but suddenly your knight in shining armor is here- Jihoon takes a seat next to you. "Oh Babe!" You say kissing his cheek; making sure it was on camera. "Only 10's can get date 10's like Jihoon, we're perfect for each other!" You express, but Mark snickers to the scene unfolding behind you watching Yuna and Sooyoung roll their eyes at that certain sentence. "Are you coming to my game today?" Jihoon asked, before noticing Mark. "Why is there a fucking geek near us," He barks but you quickly come to the save. "Ji, we went through this. Mark here is going to be making a movie on how I win Spring Formal Queen." You say, gripping his hand slightly so he could get the memo. "He better not show up to my games", "Never, just eat." You said as he glares at the boy. "Alright, and cut." Mark said before getting up, "Thank you." 

"So...you don't have a job?" Mark asked filming you going through a bunch of clothes, you shake your head no. "You just shop til' you drop huh?" He asked amused at your simple lifestyle, "Of course, now don't come in here this is a school film." You said going into the change room. "Here she comes," You cheered (for yourself) minutes after changing into a short black skirt which was most definitely breaking dress code and a tight white long sleeve which had a deep cut in the back. Mark's mouth is slightly agape seeing you, you were gorgeous indeed he thought. "So tell me what it's like to be...." He trails off trying to find a synonym for the popular " Amazing? Well, there are levels of popularity, at the top moi, and at the bottom..you." You said giving him a grisly glare."Ou! Love these!" You acclaim to a pair of black heels, "Hate these." You say to a set of hot pink ones beside them. "I have two of these!" You declare cheerfully at a pair of white heels which shimmered with sparkles; definitely your style. "How do people get popular?" Mark asked, ignoring your admiration over ridiculously cruel footwear. "Well some are just born with it," You say then go in closer, covering your mouth in a whisper action, "But some gotta follow the diva's around for it." You said, clearly talking about Sooyoung and Yuna.

"Gonna try these on, out Geek," you said to Mark who was almost walking in there with you. "Oh- right sorry!" He said now moving over to your two (deemed) friends. "So, since she's not here... " Mark started  getting the camera up to focus on the two, "Do you have anything about Y/n you can spill?" He asked, "Like, does your popularity only come from following her around," Yuna was quick to fire back, "We may not be as popular as Y/n, but we do know some secrets..." She trails off letting Sooyoung start. "Like when Y/n doesn't get her way, she has the biggest hissy fit,", "And Jihoon is only with her cause he likes the attention, you know to she makes him feel better about himself," Mark couldn't understand how your two announced friends were fundamentally spilling everything about you to an insignificant camera and film nerd. "Behold!" You squeal opening the curtains, to reveal your outfit (which admittedly, had Mark's jaw drop). You were some-what dress shopping for the Spring Formal and you saw this magnificent dress, a silk orchid dress which fell all the way down to your knees frilling at the bottom. The right amount of skin and the right about of puff! You thought; pairing it up with black heels, "God, I look fantastic. What do you think?" You ask the three in front of you, "You-I think you look great!" Mark said the camera to his side, "Film!" You shouted suddenly, as he ponderously brought the camera back up. "Ladies?" You ask the two behind Mark, "You look so good!", "Agreed." They say. The four of you voted to get smoothies before departing and you were ever so willing to pay for all four, "So popular people can't hang out with... nerds?"  He asked filming you sip on the mango smoothie, "Of course we don't," He moved on, placing the camera down to take a sip out of his smoothie thinking there wasn't too much to embellish on, although you continue. "It's better that way, no interference. Why would a dime like me hang out with a nickel?"  You asked oh so wisely which made Mark mumble a WTF. "See, if you two were to go out... The school would go mad as a hatter and it's not gonna end well on both ends." Yuna adds you look to her in the seat beside you, giving her a warning look to 'not talk this is my movie' as she sinks in her seat. Mark sees the silence as an opportunity to ask a question from his cue cards filled with questions that would have something engaging, after finding something to grab not only your attention but the audience about to watch this's attention, he springs the question on you. What if you don't win Spring Formal Queen? "What if I don't? That's not a question, of course, I will? If I don't my life will be over!" You said sliding your drink aside stressing the word over. 

It was in the late hours of the evening and Mark was confined inside his bedroom, editing and stressing. How was this a high school documentary? She only cares about herself, 'fashionable' friends, and prince charming, in which two out of the three didn't even care about her. Maybe she's like this because of what it's like at home? He thought questioning about your at-home life was. Does she have a deep heart-aching past which makes her act like such a nuisance? Nah who am I kidding this isn't some movie. His night was mostly spent, under his blanket with a laptop screen shining into his eyes (probably the reason why he has contacts). 

Saturdays were beach days. That's what Jihoon always said. You'd meet him at the beach where all the (popular) kids from school would go on Saturday mornings, not to sun-bathe but to attend the main volleyball matches would be held. The teams were unauthorized, but for the student's entertainment, our Yonsei's official volleyball team would pick Saturday mornings for a friendly event against Joongdong High. You texted Mark beforehand to meet you there which took him a minute to agree on, but only if he brought his friends, Johnny and Jungwoo. "Hey, you're late!" You tell the boy who's jogging towards you with his tiny camera, you look behind him to see a taller fellow, "And you brought  friends..." You said uninterested and rather irritated, "I'm gonna help Mark, so you look extra beautiful today Y/n!" He quickly said chiming in; his effort in pleasing you was extraordinary. You give him a small smile before nodding. You look beside Mark to see a familiar face, "Johnny!" You cheer before embracing the boy, "Hey Queen Bee" He joked, as you slap his arm jokingly. You and Johnny's dads are business partners, which often made you two spend time together growing up so, in your world, Johnny was your only nerd. Mark just awkwardly stands the before Johnny scatters away with Jungwoo for soda cans, but Mark follows you. Mark was busy filming your little interactions with Jihoon before catching a glimpse of his Ryunjin. He thinks to himself, I can put the camera down for a second, before jogging to Ryunjin, who was getting a soda from the vending machine. "Hey," He said awkwardly. "Hi Mark, didn't come across to you being a beach guy..." She responded laughing at his getup in the hot climate. "OH, I'm just filming for Y/n." He stated catching 'O' shape form on her lips before they start talking casually. You back away, momentarily from the crowd to give yourself a little break, being gorgeous is a workout, you thought, before snickering. You look to your right to see Mark in the distance talking to a brown-haired girl, noticing the purple highlights, hidden between her locks, you realize it's not some rando,  it's Ryunjin. I have to get him out of there. You don't really think before grabbing a spare volleyball to flinging it over the crowd to Mark's head. Running over you ignore the girl aiding Mark, "Are you okay? You look okay. We don't have time for breaks." You said sternly before grabbing his arm and sprinting as fast as you could in a pencil skirt and orange stilettos.

"God, your so lucky I was your knight in shining armour out there. Saved you from your utterly wretched flirting." You tell Mark posing for the camera he set. "Flirting? What, no. Why would I flirt with Ryunjin?" He demanded panicked that you might do something knowing you. "Oh please, your crush on Ryunjin is way more obvious than Wonyoung's fake gold." You said adjusting the skirt you had on. "Can't believe I used to be her friend," You mutter, which he caught onto quickly, "Wait, what?", "Yea, in elementary but look at us now, way out of her league, she's almost at the bottom of the list with her, 'I'm in a rock band' getup." You spit before posing dramatically. 

You sit at the bench in front of the now, empty parking lot. Jihoon ditched you for 'pizza with the boys' to celebrate their victory along with the two friends who just needed to tag along for the sole purpose to tell everyone they hang out with the volleyball team during their free time. "Hey," Mark said sitting down beside you, "They left me and took my car." You say recalling Jihoon asking for your keys to drive to the pizza place. "Now I'm stuck here, do you have a car Mark, let's go somewhere." You whined quietly watching as Mark put his camera away, grabbing your hand to bring you away. "This is Jeno." Mark says, pointing to his Silver 1965 Oldsmobile, "He's getting old but isn't vintage a style you princesses adore?" He asked, chuckling before telling you to get in. "Spot on Film Geek!" You praise, before hopping in. You notice from the corner of your eye a group of kids from Yonsei walking by, you duck down, hiding from them "What are you doing now?" Mark asked confused, before noticing the batch walking down and taking a turn. "Okay Miss Popular, they're gone." He said a little insecure this time giving you a dry laugh. You notice from the corner of your eye a group of kids from Yonsei walking by, you duck down, hiding from them "What are you doing now?" Mark asked confused, before noticing the batch walking down and taking a turn. "Okay Miss Popular, they're gone." He said a little insecure this time giving you a dry laugh. The car failed Mark this time, and not wanting to break the already broken car he tells you "Let's bus it, this car isn't going to start anytime soon,", "What? No way I'm going inside a jam-packed van just for it to stop a block away from my place!" You argue. "God why don't you quit this diva act and just face were gonna walk back which is probably a little over two hours I know you won't ever do or take a thirty-minute bus ride which you should consider knowing your so-called prince took.", "What did you just call me? A diva? Hello?? I'm a star in your film!" You bark, now furious at the boy, "No. You are a stuck-up, arrogant, annoying brat who's in my film." He fired-back. No remorse at all. "You're-You're fired!" You shout. "No, this is my film you don't do the firing!" He said back, "Don't care, I'm the star here and I say you're fired!" You finish before he grabs your wrist, "Oh please I'm the only one who demands are going to be valid and I say you're fired." Mark finished walking away from the bus-stop down the street, leaving you alone and forced to call a cab.

Mark thinks he hit jack-pot, finally getting rid of you. "It's not too late to change projects right?" He tells himself on that gloomy Monday morning, combing his hair with his fingers in the mirror before going downstairs to eat breakfast. Here he was, eating a bagel in Principle Dong's office. "I'm afraid you can't Mark," He said towards the boy. 

"Hello! Yonsei!! It's me your future Spring Queen! Y/n! You want to better the halls of Yonsei? Vote for me, I'm sweet just like candy!!" You shout, the crowd you have in front of you, this was your way of campaigning. "Out of my way," Wonyoung says, grabbing the mic, to advertise and get people to vote for her. As per usual, she one-ups her opponent; you. "Oh my god, Y/n thanks for the advice on flirting, I finally got Wooseok to go with me for Spring Formal," Jisoo said, from behind making you turn with a happy smile, "So I can count on your vote?" Her smile faded quick, she mumbles a little something, before stuffing her face with the homemade cookie's Wonyoung provided, quick to run away.

It was almost the end of the school day and you were stuck in literature recapping on how to write proper paragraphs before your end of the year essay. You notice a semi-familiar face, Nayeon. You know she and Johnny are friends, so she must be close to Mark, you thought. You were gonna ask her to ask Mark to meet you but you'd rather not bring more geeks into your already geek-filled life. You read her phone screen that illuminated brightly in the dim-lit classroom. 'The Fifth Element is having a showing tonight,' A group chat called 'Hollywood's Trash' sent in, Mark would definitely be there. Writing down on a sticky note the address provided thankfully you slip it into your binder focusing your attention back on the lesson, this time with a smile.

You and probably the only other person you'd allow in your bedroom with you is Minho. He's been your family's butler for a little over 25 years now and has been with since day 1. Aiding since you unintentionally fell and cut a mark after attempting to bike without training wheels to strengthening you with your mother's passing. Minho was with you when he dropped you off at the very, very empty cinema. "They're probably inside, just wait until it's over which is..." He looks at his wrist, to his watch. "Another 10 minutes," He gives you an assuring smile before reaching over to open the door. "Knock em' dead," He tells you, before driving off. You sit on the sidewalk ledge with a soda in hand, sipping on it here and there until you began to see people walk out. Standing up, you pat down your skirt and look for anyone that resembles Mark. You see a short boy, black-parted hair and a graphic t-shirt paired with baggy trousers. "Mark!" You shout, he looks behind him to see your petite figure run up to him, "Hey," He said confused. "What are you doing right now?" you asked him eagerly, seeing him turn to Nayeon, Johnny and Jungwoo. "Yong's, we are totally digging sugar cookies," Jungwoo said before Mark could open his mouth, you smile leaning in a little closer to the odd trio,  "Mind if I tag along?", "No! Feel free." Johnny said, grabbing your forearm to drag you along. 

"God how can you guys drink those dreadful things," Nayeon said watching Johnny and Jungwoo gulp down smoothies. You and Mark already finished your drinks a while back, "Nayeon you do know, smoothies have a health glow about them? They’re often a fundamental part of cleanses, and they’re ubiquitous at health food stores and health-centric restaurants. And the smoothie trend is still going strong. Workout studios serve them up post-class, dietitians preach their powers and fit celebrities tout their nutritional prowess. The fruits used at Yong's are fresh and have antioxidant and anti-inflammatory benefits with low-sugar, employee's here have also learnt to provide fibre, calcium and vitamins A, C and K they add dark leafy greens like spinach or kale. "Y/n what the fuck??" Nayeon said. You stare at her dumbfounded... Have you said the wrong thing? Were you wrong?

It's still the early hours of twilight, and you are still wandering with Mark and his friends, roaming around the lit-up town. "So, since when did you get so smart?" Mark asked. The two of you were walking delayed to get a chance to talk after your dispute. "What do you mean I've always been like this," You said, a little offended he thought that low of your academic abilities. He mutters a 'wow' before continuing "Well I thought pretty diva's like you only cared about popularity and crowns," He said poking fun at our egotistic side. You gasp before laughing, "So you think I'm pretty?" You sneakily stated which made the boy stutter like crazy, he couldn't answer back without the rosy tint on his cheek growing so you continued on with a little heartfelt apology in hopes he'd continue the documentary. "Look I was hoping you'd let me hire you back to finish this stupid film," You started smiling eye-to-eye hopefully, "You mean, I could hire you back?" He said. "Yes, whatever. Just continuing this- whatever" you pointed at him, then back at you repeating his vigorously "whatever this is.", "Only under one condition, you being a little bossy duchess is not gonna be happening, I like the cool nerdy Y/n I saw at Yong's," He said, which you quickly fired back with 'I'm not a nerd!' You accept your mini defeat against Film Club boy, letting him know you need a ride home before anything. "Alright, get in."

"Wha-What are you doing?!" Mark asked, laughing so much he almost dropped to the floor. You invited him inside after he agreed to drop you off at home. "Making cookies duh!!" You cheer, grabbing all the chocolatey goods from the cabinet. He's quick to pull out his camera and hit record, "Welcome to my Y/n's baking show!" You sang, adding a  trumpet noise (with your mouth). "So, what's the new with you and Ryu?" You ask, sitting beside Mark diving into a very, very unhealthy mess you call a cookie, with Mark. "Nothing really, how are you and Jihoon." You sigh to look over at the spacious living room, Mark understands your silence and understands your having trouble in paradise. "How about I ask some of her band mates- who worship me. If they can ask Ryu to go on a date with you" You suggest to Mark with a soft smile. He looks at you, thoughtfully, "I got someone else on my mind nowadays..." He tells you with a crimson red colour visible on his cheeks. "I-I should get going now it's nearly ten." He says going to grab his things, you nod and walk towards the front door. Maybe some nerds are cool, you thought, before Mark went out. 

3 weeks. You've spent the last three weeks with Mark Lee. Getting to know him, documenting your- I mean our movie. He's been warming up to you, and you've been less of what he liked to call you; diva. You've started flaking out on some dates with the girls, just to film with Mark, you two have learnt more about him through the movie nights you spent over at your place after filming. He's really cool and you're grateful you stopped clowning around to know him.  Today you went over to Mark's place extra early since you wanted to give him a makeover. His dorky striped tees were getting old and you'd like to see him rock the nice clothes in his closet you knew he had. "Wear this, this and OH! Make sure to put these to use." You say handing him a pair of khaki pants, a yellow shirt, patch denim jacket and a beanie to wear. It was beautiful to see him actually clean up for once, he almost made you fall for his looks. "If Ryunjin doesn't ask you out, don't mind if I do," You said laughing "Aren't you too busy with Jihoon to look after me?" He said bluntly laughing before stopping to look for a reaction which was nowhere to be found, "Jihoon broke up with me because apparently, I'm a part of the geek team now!" You said chuckling, a hidden sadness underneath. "Hey, don't worry I've been a member of the geek squad for about my whole life I think we roll far better than rich snobs-", "Hey! Take that back I was one of them" You said punching his arm. "Don't worry you're good," He said laughing it off. To be honest his feelings for Ryunjin over the past few weeks have now shifted into distant memories after getting to know the real you. I think Mark's really been feeling lucky he's got you and he knows you're aware who he's got his eyes on now. You're parting his hand, in between his legs as he sits on the stool, his hands were sneaky to make their way to rest on your hips; you hum unaffected, but proceed to part it nice and neatly before ripping his hands from somewhere it shouldn't be.

It was D-Day. Spring Formal was no longer weeks away, it's hours. You had just recently gotten news that Mark's little documentary he's been making about and with you has won first place in the Annual Film Festival, due to this he had won the summer getaway to Hollywood film camp, which by the way, was exclusive. He was lucky, and he aspired and reached his goal like no other, you on the other hand... Let's just say Spring Formal Queen wasn't something you were looking forward to nowadays. But it did feel nice to win something at a party you didn't even bother to attend, you were too busy telling mark farewell at the airport to be at a function that was still being supervised by faculty. "Don't forget to text me, Mark," You tell the boy in front of you. Today Mark is sporting a red and black striped tee with an In The Row Leather Jacket (gifted by who else other than you!) and some dark blue jeans. "Can't believe you missed the fricken' Spring Formal to hang out with the film geek! Ah You really have evolved," He said standing in front of your hands reaching to nothing when he stuffs them in his jean pockets. "You make me sound like those Digimon characters you collect," You say ultimately making him facepalm at your words Digimon? Really Y/n? he thought before going into a fit of giggles, oh why should he correct you anyways you seem so cute."But no, I won't forget." He assures hand reaching out to rub your side. This time spent with Mark is something the old you would've retched at, but the current you? The current you are thankful, Mark helped you go back to your regular self, showing you that you didn't have to be some type of Barbie doll for some; what Mark called rich slobs. You were better than that now, and you had Mark. You've come to realize that Mark Lee isn't just that geek from the film club. He's above that. His place in your hear is indescribable. Who knew he would be the one to make your heart run laps from simple gestures. It's hilarious in a way, you'd be aggravated if he even came into your vicinity but now you'd be anticipating his visit.

"Mark," You start, watching his eyes light up at you call him. Your eyes meet, looking into one another's dark coffee bean orbs. Your gaze was sharp as if lined with shards of glass around the edges, his eyes. God, when your eyes met, you could see the glow in them, it was irresistible. That is when you finally realize, this newly discovered desire you found in yourself, is in Mark. He foresees your next moves bringing a hand up to your cheek, caressing it. "God, you're so beautiful," He whispers watching both of your arms trail up his torso to rest firmly on his shoulder. Leaning in, you finally taste his peach lips. His heart was racing, once he dipped his face down to you. He knew that once he places his soft pink lips on you, he wouldn't want to stop.  Breaking the kiss, you whisper, "Goodbye, Mark." Hand raising to ruffle his hair, "Make me proud out there," You tell him, leaving a less-heated peck on his lips. "Thank you, goodbye Y/n" He wanders off into his designated area before taking off almost immediately pulling his phone out. Is he really that addicted to elec- Oh, your phone rings. He's calling you, "I miss you already," he tells you the moment you answer. "I miss you too." You tell him. "I have to go, my Uber is here." you bit your lip, the words tangling up in the pit of your stomach, should you tell him the eight letters you've been longing to? "I love you, be safe." You look over the crowd to the seat to see him, looking for you. He brings the phone up back to his ear, "I love you too- Fuck so much," It looks like he's been waiting just as long.

Let's just say your happy ending took couple wrong turns but it looks like you finally reached your destination, in Mark's heart.

[venactricisfics]

Malibu Desert

It hurts like hell.

Tags: @wonderlust75 @sickofbitches @lexiibishop @noz4a2 @just1bri @redwolfs-world @queenbeered

Master List

Twenty-One

I could feel the spinning of the lights in my head as we finally made it to the hospital. It hurt. I don’t know what I expected a gunshot to feel like. But imagining and knowing are so far apart. The pain let me know I was still living.

“How the fuck did this happen?” I could hear Bishop talking to someone in the room.

“It was an fucking ambush,” Hank’s voice answered. “How’s she doing?”

“Bullet went through. Lost a lot of blood,” Bishop answered, “but she’s strong. They said she should be coming around soon.”

I groan feeling the pain still shooting through my shoulder as I start to sit up, “It hurts like a son of a bitch.”

“You were fucking shot, Hermana,” Hank says, “I’ll get a nurse, then go check on Riz and Coco.” He stands and heads out of the room.

“What happened to Coco?” I ask weakly.

“The explosion,” Bishop answered, “his eyes got fucked up. Angel and Gilly are with him now.”

“And Riz?” my eyes search his.

“Just came out of surgery,” he replied. “Rest now.”

“I just want to go home,” I look past him at the nurse, “when can I go home?”

“Should be able to go home today,” she says, “Doctor will be in here soon to confirm.” She hands me a cup with pain pills and a cup of water, “Those should help. You can arrange physical therapy with the medical center in Santo Padre.”

An hour later, I’m fitted in a sling and sitting in a wheelchair. A clear plastic bag in my lap holding my bloody clothes and broken heels. “They were my favorite pair,” I looked back at Bishop who was pushing my chair to the lobby where the rest of the Mayans were waiting. I give a nod to Coco sitting in his own chair.

“I’m sitting down with the Kings in the morning,” Bishop says.

Coco looks up, “Why? This is a charter play.” I knew what that meant.

“The deal with Charming affects the whole MC,” Bishop responds.

“They fucking ambushed us,” Gilly’s voice getting louder behind Coco. “After a fucking sit down.”

“I know,” Bishop said. I could see the turmoil in his face as he looked from Coco to me and the rest of the Mayans. The right thing. The right thing for his guys, the club, for me wasn’t an easy thing.

“Let’s get home,” Hank stated, “Get some rest. Put this on the table tomorrow.”

“Creep and I will stay with Riz,” Taza says.

“Keep me in the loop,” I look up at him, “he saved me.”

“Of course,” he leans down and gives me a peck on the cheek, “Anyone of us would have done the same, cariño.” I knew it. Riz proved it.

“Let’s get the fuck outta here,” Bishop stated, then pushes my chair out the front door to the van waiting outside. I settled behind Gilly who was driving us back letting Coco ride shotgun. The ride back was silent. Anger clung to the air. It was raw and it was real. I couldn’t shake the image of El Palo’s eyes as they stared at me before he pulled the trigger. He never met me before that day and he hated me.

“Hey, we’re here,” Gilly called back to me. The van door slid open and EZ grabbed my bags and Angel took my hand and helped me down. I was groggy from the drugs but I could still feel the pain in my shoulder.

“I’ll drive you home tomorrow,” Bishop led me up the steps and down the hall to the dorm, “the Kings will be here early.” I take a seat on the bed. I tried not to think about how many cum stains were on the mattress. I was exhausted.

“I have to call the Irish,” I grumbled as Bishop helped me off with my shoes. “Whatever I tell them will change what goes on with Charming and with you.”

“I know, querida,” he kissed my forehead and pulled back the blanket, and tucked me under. “I can’t tell you how to land on that shit. We gotta figure out the best call for all of us.”

I woke the next morning to the piercing ring of my phone, I cried out in pain as I remembered my shoulder had a fucking whole-blown in it. Bishop had already gotten dressed and was likely at the table. Figuring out what to do about the VM.

“Hello?” I answered.

“Are ya alright, lass?” the thick Irish accent of Declan Brogan asked. “Chibs told us what happened at the meeting last night.”

“I’ll be ok,” I winced as I placed my arm back in the sling, then down the pills, Bishop left on the nightstand. “Is there any other way to keep the business going without that new partner?”

“I’ve put it to Chibs to find another way, but the fucking Mexicans fucked this up,” he responded, “never trusted them.”

“You never trust anyone that has a deeper tan than off-white,” I shuffle to my feet. “I can’t see the Mayans' answer to what happened being anything but retaliation.”

“Aye,” he replied, “if they don’t we will.”

“And that will cause everything to fall the fuck apart,” I wasn’t sure what to do. “I’ll talk to you soon.”

I never realized how hard it was doing things with one hand. I washed up in the bathroom and struggled to change my shirt and slide my pants up over my hips. Fortunately, I found yoga pants and one of Bishop’s black tanks stashed here. I look up as I hear a knock on the door.

“Yo, Malibu,” Angel saunters in, “Bish sent me to see if you needed any help.”

“I got the front bandage changed,” I said, “just need help with the back. My bra is hooked all wonky, can you fix that? And tying my shoes. How are your ponytail skills?”

“You’re asking for a lot,” he said, taking the sterile bandage from the table and then sat behind me on the bed.

“You saying you can’t handle it?” I flinch a little as his hand touches my back gently. Angel changed the bandage expertly. I was almost shocked.

“Na, just used to taking bras off not putting them on,” he fumbles, fixing the hooks, “I am a pro at that too.” Proud of himself he pulls the back of my shirt back down. He ties my sneakers and takes my hairbrush from me and brushes the tangles from my hair.

“I’m surprised,” I smooth my hair with my only available hand. “Thank you.”

“You scared us last night, Malibu,” Angel’s voice didn’t have the same tone as normal. “Can’t have you getting killed.”

“I’ll keep that in mind the next time someone shoots at me,” I offer a smile and walk with him down the hall. Gilly slides a chair out for me and sets a beer on the table in front of me. “Bishop?”

“The kings,” he points to the stained glass door.

“How are you feeling?” I asked Coco. He looked out of it. Wasn’t sure if it was the pain or the anger that gave him that look.

“Fucked,” he replied and took another drag from his cigarette. I nodded. I didn’t know his exact diagnosis but I did know that if his eyesight didn’t improve he couldn’t ride. If he couldn’t ride he couldn’t wear a patch. And for him the patch was everything. Coco’s family outside of the MC was beyond fucked up.

I turn, watching the kings and their crew file out of the stained glass door. I met Bishop’s troubled eyes with my own. The weight of things. Whatever decision either of us made would fuck things up for someone else.

“They heading out?” Gilly asked as the clubhouse door closed behind the other kings.

“They’re staying at Vicki’s until we sort this out,” Hank answered.

“What’s to sort out?” Coco inquired.

“You’re a smart man, Coco,” Bishop stated. “You know what’s at stake here.”

“Yeah,” he replied, “My fucking eyesight. It don’t get better I may never fucking ride again.”

Bishop looked at me then back to Coco, “We’re looking at millions of dollars in gun revenue for the entire Mayan organization.”

“So the CEOs of the Mayans Incorporated are deciding what’s best huh?” Coco’s one eye narrowed as he stood, “I hope y’all came up with a medical plan cause I’m gonna fucking need it.” Then storms out the front door.

“I’ll stay close,” Gilly followed after him. Bishop nodded and paced the floor. After asking Hank to reach out to Alverez, he looked at me. I could see the weariness in his eyes. He hadn’t slept since we got back. He carried it all with him. Coco, Riz, me. He bore that weight on his shoulders.

I stand following Bishop to a corner table. “I’m here, babe,” I tell him, my hand laying over his, “whatever you need.”

“I know, querida,” he kissed my temple, “I know.” I should have told him what Declan said but I couldn’t lay another burden on him. Not now. Not until they decided.

---

I sit at the table alone nursing a beer, watching the stained glass again. I lost count of the minutes that I’d waited for a club decision for anything. This time Bishop was getting council from Marcus. Bishop needed that guiding hand. That family connection to point him in the right direction. Or to encourage him to forge his own path. He was after all a king in his own right.

“I can take you to Vicki’s if you’d like,” Hank said when he exited the room.

“I’ll wait for Bishop,” I give him a smile, “has he eaten anything?”

“Have you?” he responded.

“I’m supposed to take care of you,” I tell him.

“And we’re supposed to take care of you, cariño,” he said, “if something worse than this,” he points to my sling, “had happened to you, it would break him.”

I nodded, “If anything happened to him,” I look at the big biker, “well I’m just hoping you don’t let me find out what would happen without him.”

I stood up when the stained glass slides open again and Marcus and Bishop walk out of Templo. “We’ll have to meet sometime when someone hasn’t just tried to kill me,” I give the former biker a peck on the cheek.

“When this is all settled,” he replied, “I’ll have my wife give you a call and we’ll have dinner or something.” He glances back at Bishop with a nod, “Primo.” Then left through the front door.

The Mayans dropped their phones in the basket outside the stained glass door, I watch as it closed behind them. The vote for payback. The pain in my shoulder wanted fucking vengeance, for myself, for Coco, and for Riz. But I knew that the deal with the VM was the one thing that kept the Irish guns in the hands of the Mayans.

I took a sip from my Diet Coke feeling every tick of the clock pulsing through my vein. The pain, stress of the wrong decision. I jump at the sound of the door being forcefully slung open and Coco storming out muttering curses in Spanish I didn’t understand. I didn’t know whether to be relieved or upset at the ‘No Vengeance’ vote.

I waited, watching as each man came out of Templo, none of them seemed fully satisfied with the vote but they knew it was the best thing for the club. Bishop slides the chair out beside mine and stuffs a cigarette between his lips. He doesn’t say a word for a long time. He doesn’t have to, I can feel how heavy the crown had become.

“If I didn’t have to think about the entire fucking club,” he said resting his hand on mine, “I’d kill every last one of those motherfuckers.”

“I know,” I replied. “It’ll work itself out.” I didn’t have a chance to tell him what Declan said to me this morning. The Vatos would be dead for what happened. By Mayan King or Irish.

I give his hand a gentle squeeze, preparing the words, to let him know that the deal would be dead no matter what. “Bishop…” I’m interrupted by the vibration of his phone.

“Shit,” Bishop said softly to his caller. “I’ll let them know.” His chair scrapes the floor as he stands. “Riz didn’t make it. Just spoke to Taza. He died about fifteen minutes ago. The vote is null and void,” he watches the faces of his men, “We’re going to war.”

---

Neither of us slept very well. How do you sleep when the person who saved your life lost his in the process?

“Can you stay with Vicki until we figure this shit out?” he asked as he helps me get dressed. “I won’t be able to help you. And she can use someone to be there with her.”

“Yeah,” I place my arm in the sling after smoothing my shirt down. “I can do that. Do you need help with anything else?”

“No, mi Amor,” he pressed a soft kiss to my forehead, “just for this shit to be done.”

He carries my overnight bag and places it in the back seat of my SUV, then helps me in the passenger’s seat. We rode in silence across the desert road to Vicki’s. Bikes were lined up, the club had already arrived.

“You need anything,” Bishop told Vicki, “don’t hesitate…” Vicki sobbed her acknowledgment then buried her face again in Taza’s chest. I didn’t speak enough Spanish to make out exactly what she said, but I could feel Vicki’s pain. Her heart was crumbling in pieces.

“Riz was her only family this side of the border,” Gilly said. I nod looking for something to do someway to help but there was nothing. And every inch of the place had a biker standing in it.

“Sit down, Princesa irlandesa,” Oso Ramos said to me. “You’re trying to do too much.”

“And you’re not trying to do enough,” I said back. I saw them circling Bishop like vultures. I knew they were trying to convince him to change his decision. “How many casualties do you think would justify it? Would you have a different view if the dead Mayan had an Oakland flash?”

“This is not the fucking time or /your/ place,” Ramos responded.

“I guess it’s not,” I stormed off, running smack into Angel’s chest as I head into the kitchen.

“Watch where you’re going, Malibu,” he said.

“Get out of my fucking way,” I responded. I needed out and Angel was blocking my escape. After I had a clear head. I sat down at the kitchen table and pull a cigarette out of an abandoned pack, I place it between my lips and flick a lighter, leaning into the flame. The burn of the smoke as I inhaled was soothing. I was able to focus again.

“Thought you didn’t smoke,” Angel said behind me.

“I don’t,” I inhale again flicking the ash in the tray. I wanted to wipe the tears from my face but I had no free hands. “Sorry about before.” He nodded then pulled a chair out to sit beside me, lighting a cigarette of his own.

“I didn’t know Riz well,” I said, “I know he liked to sing softly to himself in Spanish when he was working on his bike in the garage. I know he kept an arrowhead in the pocket of his kutte with his cigarettes. And I know that even though he didn’t really know me,” I sniffed, “he dove in front of a bullet to save my life.” I could feel the tears start pouring down my face. I couldn’t hold back the sobs. Angel wrapped his arms around my shoulders and let me cry. I let out everything I’d been holding in over the last several days.

“You’re snotting all over my shirt, Malibu,” he said.

“It’s fucking ugly anyway,” I responded.

[solange-lol]

just doing my silly little tasks

words: 3,205

AUctober day 10: murder mystery

notes: MAJOR TW // graphic description of violence and murder, major character death (its an among us au)

read on ao3

—

Nico was on a ship with nine other crewmates hurtling through space when they got the message.

IMPOSTER ALERT came over the comms. PLEASE PROCEED WITH CAUTION AND EJECT MEMBERS IF NEEDED. 

Which was great. Nothing scarier than being in space than being in space with an “imposter”— whatever that means—  on board with them.

Nico went through the list of crewmates through his head. He talked to them all briefly while boarding, but for the most part, they trained separately and he since has been traveling the ship on his own. (To be fair, it was a big ship.) 

The issue was that none of them really seemed suspicious.

Percy Jackson, the first crewmate he met, just seemed excited to be there, and just followed around Annabeth Chase for the most part. He liked being around them, but they were such good of a team that Nico can’t imagine either of them would be the imposter being as close as they are. Same with Jason Grace and Piper McLean, who were less of a perfect duo but still stayed around each other, usually accompanied by Leo Valdez as well.

Nico knew Hazel Levesque going into it since they worked together before, so he was hoping it wasn’t her.  She was into witchy stuff though… Nico had met Frank Zhang through her as their mutual friend. And Reyna Ramirez-Arellano was crazy intimidating, but also the most honest person he’s ever met. 

The only person he didn’t know that much about is Will Solace. He was nice enough the first time they met that he didn’t even think twice about it, but now it made Nico wonder if possibly he was just trying to gain everybody’s trust. 

Nico decided to go about his tasks. They already set to turn around ever since that message, so perhaps if they could just prepare the ship for landing then everything would work out fine.

They met in the cafeteria, dividing and handing out tasks to fix the ship. Nico heads out once they do so, heading towards navigation to divert power over to the electrical. He knows for a fact that electrical not only is on the other side of the ship but also one of the darker and bigger rooms. All he can do is hope for no one to be around when he does.

Of course, that’s exactly where Will Solace was, sporting his bright yellow suit like the sun itself.

Nico considers turning around, but the last thing he wants to do is make him think that he’s the suspicious one here, so he continues onto the room.

Hearing footsteps behind him, Will turns around. Nico can see his eyes widen through the glass pane on his helmet.

“Oh god,” he takes a breath. “Please don’t kill me, I’m just trying to fix the wires.”

“It’s not me,” Nico says, then adds, “not that you would believe me just by me saying that.”

“Same. Not that you would believe me either,” Will nods, then turns back and opens the wire box. He resists the urge to lean over and check if he’s actually fixing them or just breaking them further, but Nico can only imagine that’ll just be his one-way ticket to death.

It doesn’t take long for him to divert the power, but Will finishes at the same time.

“How did you do that so quickly?” he asks, narrowing his eyes at the boy. 

Will shifts. “I originally wanted to be a surgeon. I’ve got really steady hands, which turns out to work just as well with small wires as it does with human organs.”

“Right…” Nico says slowly. He doesn’t know enough about Will yet to fully believe him, but the guy probably could have killed him already if he wanted. “What other tasks were you assigned?”

Will glances up, counting on his fingers. He stops at three,

“Align engine output, a few more wires, and clean the O2 filter. You?”

Nico racks his brain, trying to remember what Percy and Annabeth assigned him. “I have to go sign into admin, prime the shields, and do some other downloads, I think.”

Will tilts his head. “Why didn’t you go to admin first?”

Nico shrugs. “I was gonna do everything from the right side of the ship to the left.”

“But you came to electrical. That’s on the left.”

“Look, I don’t know,” he sighs. “I’m just trying to keep my chill and get everything done before we all get killed.”

“Alright, di Angelo, I’ll believe you,” Will decides. “But only if you accompany me to O2.”

“Scared?” Nico asks, nudging him. 

“Aren’t you?” “Like I said, trying to keep my chill.”

“A tough guy, I see,” Will says, finally nudging him back.

Nico rolls his eyes. “Let’s just head to admin.”

“Why not go left to right? I can align the engine first and then head the opposite direction?”

“Because I want to go right to left. Everyone is probably on the left side of the ship right now anyway.”

“Doesn’t that make it more dangerous?”

“Not if we’re together. Are you coming?” he asks, tired of Will’s questions. If they wanted to get off this ship alive, they were going to need to land as soon as possible.

“Yeah, yeah I’m coming,” he says, shaking his head, although Nico can just barely see him grinning through his helmet.

They head to admin together, passing by Hazel in storage, who waves a single pink-gloved hand, a fuel canister in the other.

Arriving at admin together, Nico walks over to the desk and pulls out his ID card from one of his pockets. The card reader was especially finicky, as Nico found out after multiple failed attempts.

Too fast.

Too fast.

Card error.

Too slow.

“Nico?” Will murmurs quietly staring at the floor.  Nico’s chest tightens, hoping that he doesn’t think Nico is the imposter just because he can’t get the stupid card reader to work.

“Hold on, just give me a second.” Too fast.

“Nico...”

“I told you, I got it, just hold on!” Card error. Try again.

“Nico.”

“What?” he says finally, turning to face Will. “It’s not me, the card reader is just-”

He cuts off once he notices the body in front of them following Will’s line of sight.

The only way Nico knows it’s Jason Grace is from the lime-colored suit. Otherwise, it appears he’s been stabbed multiple times in the back. Literally in the back. 

“Is he…?” Will says slowly.

Nico reaches out, nudging him with his foot. The body doesn’t move. “Yeah, I think so.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah.”

“I guess we gotta call a meeting or something.”

“Yeah. Probably before someone comes in here and sees us just staring at it.”

Will’s eyes widen. “Yeah… yeah.”

They leave the body in the room before calling everyone into the cafeteria where they had originally divided up tasks. Crewmates walk in, confused and concerned as they gather around the middle table.

“What’s up?” Frank asks.

“And should we wait for Jason?” Piper adds.

Nico grimaces. “That’s, um, that’s the thing actually. Jason is dead.”

Several ‘What?‘s echo around the room, followed by worried murmurs.

“We found the body in admin,” Will continues. “He was stabbed to death, judging by the wounds. 

“Was there anybody nearby?” Annabeth asks.

Nico hesitates. “Hazel was in storage underneath, but she was filling fuel.”

“Well, where was everybody else?” 

“I was in the reactor,” Piper says.

“And I was across in security,” Leo adds, tugging at his orange suit.

“Percy and I were in upper engine,” Annabeth defends.

“It’s true, me and Piper passed them.”

Reyna shrugs. “I was in O2. I didn’t see anyone else around, but I haven’t been it admin at all.”

“I’ve been in the cafeteria,” Frank says, nervously glancing around. 

“And Nico and I were in the electrical together,” Will adds.

Piper glances at Hazel, raising her eyebrow. “So Hazel was closest?”

Her eyes widen. “Wait, what? I was just filling the fuel like you asked!”

“But Will and Nico only saw you when they passed into admin,” Annabeth says. “Unless… they did it.”

“It wasn’t us,” Will raises his arms in surrender. “I swear, I was in electrical the entire time before Nico showed up, and he had just come from nav.”

Nico glances between all of them. His eyes eventually land on Hazel. It feels impossible that she could have been the one to kill Jason, but the facts line up. There wasn’t anyone else around…

Hazel notices him staring. Her eyebrows furrow from under her helmet. “Nico, you have to know it’s not me,” she pleads with him.

He clears his throat. “Should we skip the whole ejecting thing for now? Wait for more concrete evidence.”

“There’s no skipping with a killer on the loose, Nico,” Piper crosses her arms. “All in favor of ejecting Hazel?”

Hands go up around the table as Hazel meets her fate. Leo, Percy, Annabeth, and Piper, put their hands up. Nico’s relieved to see Will’s hand still down, along with Reyna and Frank.

“It’s a tie,” Annabeth announces.

“Then we’ll wait,” Nico says. “If something happens, we can vote for her after. We just need more evidence.”

They get dismissed to go back to their tasks, but before Will and Nico can even arrive at admin together so Nico can finish signing in, another meeting is called.

“I found Leo’s body in storage when I went back to finish filling the fuel tanks,” Hazel says grimly.

“Well, who else was around? We all just went back to where we were, right?” Annabeth asks, and everybody nods.

She turns to Hazel. “So it must have been a self-report type situation to make yourself look innocent.”

“No! I swear-” 

“All in favor?”

Hands go up again. This time, Reyna and Will both hesitantly put their hands up. Frank and Nico say nothing.

“Majority vote,” Piper says, then grabs Hazel’s arm.

Nico turns around when they push her out.

Once everyone is dismissed again, Nico can hear footsteps behind him as he attempts to head back to admin. He freezes, but it’s just Will catching up to him.

“Hey, you okay?” he asks, trying to grab Nico’s hand, but he pulls away.

“I don’t know, we just ejected someone who was possibly innocent out of the ship and everyone was just okay with it. I don’t know how you could expect me to be okay.”

Will sighs. “I get it. But there was a pretty good chance she was the imposter, right? Everyone else was with someone except for Reyna and Frank.”

“I guess.”

“Don’t worry, di Angelo,” Will says, stepping closer and lacing their gloved fingers together. “I’ll protect you.”

Nico raises his eyebrows, but he doesn’t pull away. It is oddly comforting to walk around with him.

He finally signs into admin, and then the two head off, doing all their tasks on the right side of the ship. So far, no signs of any dead bodies, which makes Nico wonder if maybe it was Hazel.

That is, until they’re passing through storage, heading to finish tasks on the left side of the ship, when suddenly the lights start flashing, and an automated countdown starts around them.

OXYGEN DEPLETED IN 30… 29… 28…

“Shit!” Will curses, unwinding their hands. Immediately, panic courses through Nico’s body. Imposter or not, if they can’t fix this, they’ll all be dead in a matter of minutes.

“You head to admin and put in the code from there, I’ll run to O2. Meet up in the cafeteria, okay?” 

“Got it!” Will says, and they dash off in opposite directions. All thoughts of the imposter forgotten, Nico runs as fast as he can towards the O2 room. He passes Frank as he’s doing so, who’s staring at one of the downloading screens and completely ignoring the flashing lights overhead.

Huh…

He doesn’t have enough time to think about that, though. When he arrives at O2, he notices a blue figure squatting down in front of the oxygen machine.

“Are you?” he asks, and Percy turns his head, nodding.

“Yeah,” he says in a rushed breath, then gestures towards a post-it on the wall. “I’ve almost got it, I just need the code. Can you…?”

Nico grabs the post-it, reading off the code written. “267983”

Percy punches in the number code and hits enter. After a moment, the lights stop flashing, and the countdown stops.

Nico lets out the breath he was holding. “That was close.”

“Yeah,” Percy agrees, nodding. “I gotta go find Annabeth. I told her to head to admin while I would go to O2.”

“That’s the same thing I told Will.”

They head to the cafeteria together, still heavy breathing after their near-death experience. When they get there, they almost run straight into Will, who’s coming out of admin. Nico resists the urge to hug him, instead opting to just lean into his side.

Percy nods at the blonde. “Did Annabeth help you?” he asks.

Will blinks. “What do you mean?”

“In admin. I told her to go there while I went to O2.”

Nico feels Will’s body tense. “I was the only one in there…” he says. Nico sees the realization cross Percy’s face, before the boy dashes off, Nico and Will right on his heels.

It’s not long before they find Annabeth’s body, blood splattering the white suit as she lays limp just like how Jason was.

“Percy…” Nico says slowly, watching as his eyes darken.

Another meeting was called.

“Who now?” Frank asks grimly.

Percy says it so quietly that Nico almost doesn’t hear him. “Annabeth.”

“Wait, where’s Reyna?”

“Oh,  I saw her in navigation,” Piper says, then backtracks. “Well, I found her in navigation. I was about to call it, but I guess Percy beat me to it.”

“Two in one go?’ Will asks nervously, pulling at his gloves. 

Percy crosses his arms. “Well, it had to be either you or Frank. And I told her to head to admin, which is where you were.”

Will backed up. “Woah, woah, but I stayed in admin until O2 was fixed!:

“Right, right, it just so happens her body was right outside of admin as well.”

“But I left storage!” “Doesn’t mean you didn’t go back.” “I didn’t! I was the only one in there fixing O2!”

Nico’s head swivels back and forth, not knowing who to believe. On one hand, he’s been with Will the entire time. If Will wanted to kill him, he had multiple chances to already.

But on the other hand, Annabeth was headed there…

“Wait, no!” he interrupts, suddenly remembering what he saw on his way to O2. “I’ve been with Will this entire time! And there was someone else in storage,” he says, turning to face Frank.

Percy follows suit. “Frank?”

“When I was headed to O2, I noticed he was still downloading, even while the lights were flashing,” Nico accuses. If Piper found Reyna, Will was fixing O2 in admin, and he was with Percy, it has to be Frank, right?

“I left, like, right after you passed, I swear!” Frank defends.  “I saw Annabeth headed to admin and you headed to O2, so I figured I would just finish the download and then go check if you guys needed help.”

“You saw Annabeth?” Piper asks, crossing her arms just like Percy. 

Frank’s eyes widen under his helmet, realizing the corner he’s backed himself into. “Yes, I saw her, but then I left, I swear-”

“All in favor?” Nico asks.

All hands go up.

Once Frank was ejected, Will catches up with Nico again, as the two hesitantly head to the left side of the ship. 

“If we just finish out tasks, we can land and get out of here,” Nico says, glancing behind him. Will nods in agreement, also silent. Whatever was between them before has now disappeared, replaced with fearful tension.

The two make their way through the tasks on the left side, aligning engine outputs and fixing the rest of the wires. Nico finishes his last task, adjusting his gloves. “That’s it, right? We should be good to land?” he asks Will, who is staring at the engine.

“Yeah, um, here’s the thing,” he says, and Nico can see his face turning red even through the glass of the helmet. “Remember that wire task I was doing in electrical when you found me? I never actually finished it…”

Nico groaned. “You have got to be kidding me.”

“I’m sorry!” Will says. “You just finished yours so quick I was worried you would kill me! I wasn’t completely sure it wasn’t you until Leo died. We just have to go back and do that one last set, and then we can land.”

Nico sighs. “I mean, it’s not like we have a choice.”

They arrive at the electrical together, and he tries to ignore his pounding heart as Will opens the box, fixing the last two wires inside. The longer it took, the harder it felt like his heart was pumping until he could practically hear it.

Unless… that wasn’t his heart he was hearing.

Nico turns to the source of noise, heavy thumps coming from the vent next to where Will was working. It definitely sounded like someone was crawling through, and they were getting closer.

“Will, do you hear that?”

“Hear what?”

It was too late. Just as Will turns to face him, a person in a red-clothed suit pops out of the vent and grabs his body, pulling him close.

“‘Sup, Nico?” Piper grins, then snaps Will’s neck.

DEFEAT.

Will frowns. “I don’t like this game very much,” he says as Piper’s character appears on screen, the red letters fading on screen for everybody except Piper’s phone.

“You hate this game? I always get killed first,” Jason sighs. 

Piper kicks his chair playfully. “That’s ‘cuz you’re an easy target, Jas.”

“If you had just finished that one task, Will, we could have won!” Annabeth groans.

Will makes a noise of protest, and Nico just snuggles closer to his boyfriend on the couch in Percy’s living room where they had all gathered that night. He was silently proud of himself for technically surviving until the end, even if his imminent death was implied.

“Piper came out of nowhere. I swear I thought it was Hazel,” Leo shakes his head. “She kept giggling, I thought it’s because she was murdering a bunch of people.”

Hazel smiles like she can’t help it. “It’s just funny the way they run around. They don’t have arms!”

“Yeah, I wouldn’t trust Hazel when she’s not smiling,” Reyna says.

Percy shakes his head. “We should have known it was Piper. It’s always red.”

“I take offence to that statement on behalf of everyone who mains red.”

They continue bantering back and forth, and Nico feels Will’s hand land on his knee right where his jeans tear, sending electric currents through his body. 

Defeat or not, there’s nothing about this moment he wouldn’t change.

Will leans down, kissing Nico on the cheek, and Nico smiles as he holds up his phone. “Anyone up for another round?”

—

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