#she used to be a bouncer but she got fired after calling out some seriously unethical incredibly illegal shit her boss was trying to do

[mxbitters]

i think i just met a cool business major for the first time ever holy shit

[nerdyreaderpapi]

Hi!! Again, I’m so so so sorry for responding so late to these wonderful updates, things are still pretty fresh over here and I’m still getting used to everything that’s happened but I’m trying, and now that I have a free night I’m glued to my screen about to read all these new updates!!

1) THE CHAPTER STARTING OFF LIKE THIS!!? SERIOUSLY COOL BEANS!

“He hummed a chuckle against her lips, rutting her a little harder. “Yeah, ain’t you a lucky girl?” After he’d finished bouncing her around the bed, she had that confirmed even further, too.”

- James, seriously honey, I love you. My jaw was indeed dropped this this scene and I definitely feel the need to open a window or two after that🤭

2) He’d bought her favourite album by The Prodigy on vinyl for her, signed by all four members of the band.  

- JAMES IS THE SWEETEST MAN EVER!! The fact that he went out of his way to do this for Ella and knowing he might hav to start working as a bouncer again is seriously the sweetest thing ever! I love his and Ella’s relationship so much!

3) “My BFG!” she cooed, moving to straddle his lap and kiss him. “You’re the best! Thank you so, so much!” 

“You’re welcome, little,” he hummed, kissing her again and tightening his arms around her.

“And yeah, I’m coming with you to suffer the noise. Got us a hotel booked down there for the weekend and all that, too.”

- NO WORDS JUST MY COUPLE BEING THE SWEETEST EVER! I love the fact that Ella calls James her BFG! I’ve said it before but I’ll say it again, their nicknames for each other are so cute and I really love their dynamic! James willing to suffer through noise just to be with Ella>>> he’s my favourite!!

4) “Hi, Ella. I’m Sam, or dickhead, pain in the arse or twat, as my brother often calls me. Nice to meet you!”  

- okay I love Sam so much!! I’m sorry but this was just such a funny introduction 😭😭😭 him naming out all the things he’s often called and then finishing it off with “nice to meet you!” Is just so funny for some reason😂😂 he’s definitely one of my favourites!

5) “Because he loves it.” James hadn’t expected Ella to speak up, but there she was, her hand still squeezing his thigh supportively. “Because he wouldn’t be who he is without his music.” 

- yes Ella defend your man! I love how they always stick up for each other no matter what! I love this about them, and I love how Ella is standing up to his mother and isn’t letting her try and get James down!

6) “Oh, I’m glad to hear you’ve been paying your way and not sponging off my son. I thought maybe the reason he could have been going back to high risk, but high pay work was to support you both. I’m glad that isn’t the case.” Her eyes toured her, picking up her wine glass with a little grin. “Not that you eat much, though. You can’t be expensive to keep. Just as well, really, since you probably vomit most of it back up.” 

- THE GASP I LET OUT!!! HOW DARE YOU CAROLE OH GOSH! I am literally that meme with the fire blowing out of angers ears!! Oh man, reading that made me so angry, like Carole most definitely has problems of her own and I had a gut feeling from the start that I wouldn’t like her at all! This is such disgusting behaviour, but you know what, I’m actually glad that she’s showing her true colours again! So now they can leave her in the dust while they ride off into the sunset together

7) How James didn’t throw the knife in his hand directly at her head, he didn’t know, placing his cutlery down and glaring. “That was low. In fucking fact, mum, that was spiteful. I ain’t having that, nah.”  

“Good bloody lord, Carole!” his dad remarked, removing his glasses and pinching the bridge of his nose. “There was no need for that. Ella, I’m sorry, sweetheart.” 

“Nah, tired of it, innit. You? You ain’t good for my recovery, you wind me the fuck up every time I have to share breathing space with you. Find someone else to pick at, because it ain’t me any longer and it sure as fuck ain’t my girlfriend either.”

- these three paragraphs I love so much! Because I love how all of them (Sam included I just forgot to add his paragraph) stood up to Carole and defended Ella but also calling their mother/wife out on her disgusting, disrespectful behaviour towards James and Ella. And I love that Sam and James dad aren’t the type to bow their heads and stay silent during something like this!

8) Ella totally frying James brain to the point where he can barley speak>>> totally cool beans my Ella heheh

9) STEVE!! I MISS YOU! “Happy birthday, Greenhall. Sorry it ain’t wrapped, I’m a bloke. I’m proper rubbish and all that!” I LOVE HIM SO MUCH, I love the friendship Ella has with James friends and I love that neither of them feel uncomfortable around each other! It’s like a found family! I love that so much!

Sorry this was so much! I had so much to say lol, and honestly this chapter has most definitely gotten me out of my sad mood! I loved it so much and the amount of love I have for this book is insane!

Thank you so much for your wonderful work and your kind words on the last post! It means a lot to me that someone is here for me, and I’m very sorry for the loss you suffered as well! I’m hoping that you’re okay!

These chapters are absolutely amazing! And I’m sorry but I probably will be spamming because I plan to catch up tonight! So sorry I’m advice 🤭

Light on the Darkside - Chapter Fifteen.

Previous chapters - One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine Ten Eleven Twelve Thirteen Fourteen

Tag list - In the comments. Please DM to be added/removed.

Words - 3,830

Warnings - 18+ throughout. Topics cover depression, suicide and eating disorders. Minors DNI!

Twenty-three years old. In truth, Ella hadn’t really known where she’d be the year before, her denial and then acceptance of the need to recover herself at the forefront of her mind. Where she found herself was in a position few women would turn down.  

“Oh, fuck, yes, yes, ahhhh!” Her gritted statement was delivered on a bliss filled cry, highly enjoying having her insides rearranged as she was shagged ragged from behind by her boyfriend. Slowing, he grasped her shoulders, pulling her until her back pressed against his chest, mouth laying hot kisses at the side of her neck as his hands roamed over her. 

It shined golden through her, every wave of ecstasy elicited by the slow, deep punch of his cock, one hand squeezing her breasts and sliding to hold her throat, the other moving between her legs to begin stroking at her clit. With every roll of his fingertips, he pulled soft wails from her, teeth nipping her neck, sending little bolts skittering through her.   

“So, how’s your birthday going so far, darlin’?” he panted, Ella turning her head with a big smile, kissing him with smouldering sin. 

“Could be a lot worse than getting pounded by a gorgeous, thick cock.”  

He hummed a chuckle against her lips, rutting her a little harder. “Yeah, ain’t you a lucky girl?” After he’d finished bouncing her around the bed, she had that confirmed even further, too.  

“Baby! No! You didn’t!” she screamed, her mouth dropping open, James’s grin widening at seeing how thrilled she was with her gift. He’d bought her favourite album by The Prodigy on vinyl for her, signed by all four members of the band.  

“I did. Knew you’d die as soon as you saw it, innit. Oh, and you might wanna look inside the sleeve.”  

Curious, she opened it up, her mouth falling open again after pulling out two tickets to go and see them live at Kentish Town Forum in London the following month. The tour had sold out before she’d had chance to get any, so how he’d managed it she didn’t know.  

“My BFG!” she cooed, moving to straddle his lap and kiss him. “You’re the best! Thank you so, so much!” 

“You’re welcome, little,” he hummed, kissing her again and tightening his arms around her. “And yeah, I’m coming with you to suffer the noise. Got us a hotel booked down there for the weekend and all that, too.”  

With his money from album sales running quite low, it was truly more than he could afford, but she was worth it. Besides, he could easily go and pick up some work somewhere around recording their new album come nine days from then, Steve already returned to doing doorman work at various clubs and bars around Warwickshire. He’d done it himself in the past at The Gallows, so supposed he could ask Steve’s boss to hook him up with a few hours. It meant losing weekends around shifts, but it paid very well.  

It was The Gallows they were heading to that evening for Ella’s birthday night out, James half expecting her to want to go to a club that played pounding dance music until dawn. Her revealed plans had been very different, though. He couldn’t say that it wasn’t to his relief.  

After the incident when she’d been grabbed at while dancing on a podium, it had made her feel uncomfortable about returning to her beloved dance scene again, Ella beginning to find herself much more at home on the metal scene. Even the music was beginning to grow on her. Plus, it was well known now wherever she went, exactly who she was; War’s girlfriend, and if there was one woman you didn’t grab out of fear of having your arse handed to you, well. It was her.  

Also, she found that the blokes on the rock and metal scene were much more appropriate, too. Despite the common reputation of being uncouth hellions, she definitely noticed a difference in how she was treated.  

Take one night at The Gallows for instance, Ella walking back to her table from the toilets and suddenly finding herself halted by a man she didn’t know, rapidly removing his plaid shirt and tying it around her waist, whispering discreetly that her hotpants had split at the back. The man had introduced himself as Mark, he and his girlfriend Lizzie becoming fast friends with her and her little group.  

They’d be meeting with them that night, as well as her sister and Andrea, too, who they were collecting from the train station that afternoon after visiting James’s parents. Needless to say, the activities planned for afterwards were the ones he was looking forward to more that day. Apart from seeing his dad and sister, but he was dreading introducing Ella to his mother.  

“If she says anything thoughtless, just ignore her. Carole Kingston ain’t known for having a filter. I’d say she don’t mean it, like, but I’m not so sure any longer. Fucking shit stirrer,” he spoke as they alighted the car outside number forty-seven, Prescott Drive a few hours later.  

Halting him at the bottom of the drive, she grabbed his hands, giving his arms a little shake. “Come on, chill out a bit before you go in there.” 

“I’m fine, I’m chilled,” he spoke. 

Ella snorted softly. “That’s a load of bollocks, baby. You’re practically grinding your teeth. Come on, just breathe it out, relax.” Truly, she wanted it to go well for his sake more than hers, not wanting there to be any existing conflict for him to negotiate. It all depended on what mood his mother was in though, she supposed.  

He dropped a kiss to her forehead, grabbing her hand before walking up the drive past his dad’s car, the front door flying open. 

“Nah, Jimbo! What are you doing with such a pretty girl? Did she not bring her white stick and Labrador with her?”  

“Fuck off, dickhead,” he frowned, Sam throwing her head back with a squeaky laugh.  

“Hi, Ella. I’m Sam, or dickhead, pain in the arse or twat, as my brother often calls me. Nice to meet you!”  

Indeed, those were his preferred names. “Nice to meet you, Sam.” she spoke, James walking past her with a shoulder barge. 

“Out the way, skin!” he muttered, stopping to grin and then pull her into a hug. “What kind of mood is the duchess in?” 

“Not too bad, you know. Freaked out over cheese sauce. She’s made lasagne.” Immediately, his stomach tingled, wondering how Ella would cope with that, a food that was definitely placed on the scary category. It had to be said, though, she was getting better. She managed to eat rice a few times a week without issue, which was good since they had to make food money stretch.  

Moving through the house, they arrived in the large kitchen, the space extending around to a dining room as well. What had once been a modest council house had been turned into a much larger home, the extension built on by Ted, Alan’s brother giving a lot of space that hadn’t existed before, and a garden much easier to manage.  

“Alright, kidda! Ella, looking lovely as usual. Happy birthday, petal!” Alan spoke as he walked back in from the garden, handing her a card and giving her a kiss on the cheek. 

“Awww, thanks, Alan,” she spoke, opening it up, thanking him again after reading the message and finding a twenty-pound note kindly included, Carole turning from the sink. 

“Oh! You’re here! Hi!” Bustling over, she pulled James into a hug, turning then to Ella with a smile. “Well! You’re nothing like the last one, but that’s a good thing. Bright yellow hair, tattoos on her face and a flippin’ great big ring in the middle of her nose!” she exclaimed, the corner of her mouth twitching as she laughed.  

James supposed that was a compliment of sorts. Unless you happened to be Chrissie, his ex. His insides unclenched a little, seeing that his mum appeared to be in a good mood. It was what drove him up the wall about her most, the fact that Carole had the capacity to be a perfectly lovely woman, but all too often let her less favourable qualities get the better of her. 

Still, he knew how quickly she could find a fault and begin to pick at it. Like clockwork, it began over lunch, James noticing her eyes flitting to Ella at regular intervals, very observant over the smaller portion of food she ate.  

“Eh lad, I was out with a few of the fellas from work last night, saw Steve on the doors at that new club they’ve opened in what used to be the old Lloyds bank. When’d he go back to it?” Alan asked, placing his cutlery down and picking up his beer.  

“Not long ago,” he confirmed, crunching through a piece of cucumber. “He’s having a word with his boss tonight, seeing if he can get me back in it as well.”  

Carole’s eyes snapped to her son, pausing from chewing. “James, you aren’t seriously considering going back to being a bloody bouncer, are you?” 

“Yeah, I am. I’m good at it and it pays well. Only downside is losing my weekend nights, but it wouldn’t be every weekend. The shifts rotate,” he confirmed, reaching to tickle Ella’s cheek with his finger when she poked her bottom lip out. If there was one thing she loved, it was going out for a good time with her boyfriend.  

Her eyebrows rose. “Really? That’s the only downside? You getting glassed or worse by some pissed up idiot isn’t something you’re factoring in here?” 

“Ease up, love,” Alan spoke lightly, “he’s a big lad, he can handle himself. Then there’s the ole’ kickboxing, you’ve started that too now, right? How’s that going?” 

James thought it was commendable that his dad obviously wanted to move the conversation on from being something to gripe about. “Yeah, I really enjoy it. Only had two classes so far, go on Monday and Wednesday evenings.” 

“Learning kickboxing won’t stop you from being stabbed.” Oh, no. She wasn’t quite done yet. “Remind me how many times you had a knife pulled on you while you were working doors before?”  

“Three, and none ever got me,” he spoke, chewing the inside of his cheek with irritation.  

He watched her shrug, the corner of her mouth twisting. “I hope you’re not going back to it because underneath, you want them to. We’re not back there are we, James?”  

Ella’s eyes widened, gulping down her mouthful of food, reaching beneath the table to rest a hand on his thigh. God, he was right. No tact was to be found there.  

“I’d say I can’t believe you’ve just said that, but I can.” Fixing her with a hard look, he lifted his chin. “No. I’m not.” 

“Carole,” Alan warned, placing his glass down. “Don’t.”  

“Don’t what? Show concern with what ‘profession’ our son is seeking?” 

“I already have one of those,” the son himself stated, “but sadly ‘cos our corner of the metal world ain’t as lucrative as the more mainstream stuff, it don’t pay fortunes. I need quick cash until we get the next album done, get out on the road again and all that. Touring is where the main revenue is, innit.” 

“Then why in god’s name are you flippin’ doing it? Wasting your bloody time, you are!” 

“Because he loves it.” James hadn’t expected Ella to speak up, but there she was, her hand still squeezing his thigh supportively. “Because he wouldn’t be who he is without his music.” 

Carole wasn’t used to having her opinion challenged, no matter how politely. “What’s that then, Ella? A clinically depressed man who seems to be heading down all the wrong paths in his life? Choosing a career that doesn’t pay and sublimating it with a job fraught with dangers?” 

“Clinical depression is what he has. It isn’t who he is. Who he is, is a musician. A very talented one.”  

His heart bloomed, to hear those words. He’d known Ella for six and a half months and yet, she had a better understanding of him than his own mother. It spoke volumes. Carole, however, wasn’t to be defeated like that. Her words were delivered with the brand of cool snide the entire family were sadly becoming all too used to hearing.  

“So, where are you working at the moment, then? What’s your special talent, Ella?” 

James’s eyes fixed on her, his nostrils flaring. His girlfriend had hit her with something she couldn’t argue back against, so she’d changed track.  

“Currently, I’m not working. I start my new job next Monday, though. At the florist just off the high street.” 

“Oh, Bloomin’ Lovely?” Sam interjected, wanting to try and steer the conversation round. “I bought mum a bouquet from there for her birthday a few months back. The lady was so sweet, with all her bracelets and those crazy glasses and bright pink hair!”  

“Yeah, that’s it!” Ella confirmed. “And her hair is orange at the moment. She seems really cool.”  

“So, what have you been living off since you’ve been out, then, since you’ve only recently found yourself work?” Carole then questioned, the corner of her mouth upturning, thinking she had a win coming her way. 

Ella felt uncomfortable, but she wouldn’t be made to feel small. “I had some cash from my former job in the bank.” 

“Oh, I’m glad to hear you’ve been paying your way and not sponging off my son. I thought maybe the reason he could have been going back to high risk, but high pay work was to support you both. I’m glad that isn’t the case.” Her eyes toured her, picking up her wine glass with a little grin. “Not that you eat much, though. You can’t be expensive to keep. Just as well, really, since you probably vomit most of it back up.” 

How James didn’t throw the knife in his hand directly at her head, he didn’t know, placing his cutlery down and glaring. “That was low. In fucking fact, mum, that was spiteful. I ain’t having that, nah.”  

“Good bloody lord, Carole!” his dad remarked, removing his glasses and pinching the bridge of his nose. “There was no need for that. Ella, I’m sorry, sweetheart.” 

She nodded, but inside felt her stomach turning over and over, unable to believe how unpleasant the afternoon had turned. All because Carole was wrong and couldn’t stand it. 

She shrugged, sipping her wine with nonchalance. “Don’t apologise for me. I’m not sorry for pointing out the truth.” 

“Mum, stop it. You’re only embarrassing yourself,” Sam groaned, combing her fingers through her short, bobbed hair. 

With those words, James made a decision, looking across the table to see nothing but smug glee from a woman who truly should have been nothing but ashamed for the way she’d just spoken. If only her ego would let her.  

“And that’s the last time I step foot in this house.” Standing up, he turned to Ella, reaching for her hand. “You can’t help yourself, mum, and deep down I don’t even think you want to. I think you enjoy provoking reactions. Alright so fine, I obviously didn’t grow up to be the son you wanted. I’m a basket case of a black metal musician and that pisses you off, but Ella ain’t done fuck all to you.” 

“James, that’s not...” Carole began, but her eldest had truly had enough. 

“Nah, tired of it, innit. You? You ain’t good for my recovery, you wind me the fuck up every time I have to share breathing space with you. Find someone else to pick at, because it ain’t me any longer and it sure as fuck ain’t my girlfriend either.” Walking around the table, he grasped his dad’s shoulder, telling him he’d see him soon, dropping a kiss to Sam’s head and pledging her the same.  

He was about to leave, turning back suddenly. “You know what? One thing I’ve learned in therapy is that with mental illness, sometimes people with a mentally ill parent are more predisposed to it, like. Maybe you might wanna go get whatever the fuck it is you’re suffering from checked out, save you losing any other members of your family, yeah?” 

“Oh, shut your mouth, James! How flippin’ dare you accuse me of that! You’re the crazy one here, not me!” 

Now she’d really done it, the bile in him rising sharply. “Drop dead, you vile old twat.” 

Leaving the house, the first thing he did was take Ella’s face in his hands and kiss her, wrapping her in a huge hug. “I love you so fucking much. I’m sorry she chose today of all day’s to be such a cunt to you. Gave me the push I’ve needed for a while, though, innit. She ain’t no good for me, so I don’t want nothing to do with her.” 

Her eyes widened, shaking her head. “You were right. I wondered, you know, could she truly be that bad? Bleedin’ hell. She’s worse. It’s so flip switch, too!” 

“Told you.” 

“And she’s so calculated! If you prove her wrong on one thing, she veers off and attacks you over something else!” 

“Told you.” 

“Fuck! I’m so sorry you had a mum like her to deal with, especially while you’ve been recovering!” Her jaw tightened, shaking her head. “I could smack her for calling you crazy! What a nasty woman.” 

He took her hand, kissing it before they walked away from the house, the muffled sounds of his parents yelling at each other fading as they moved down the drive. “Yeah, this is why I ain’t been around her much. Her having that attitude towards me is one thing, but you? Nah. Fuck that.” He smirked a little sadly, his nose crinkling. “I still feel like a cunt for telling her to drop dead though, innit. Didn’t mean that, I was just pissed off with her being like that all the shitting time.”  

“I think you were reserved for how blazing you can be when you’re angry!” she cried, James getting into the car and leaning over to open her door for her. “You didn’t even shout at her. You just like, told her it wasn’t on and then removed yourself. It’s pants, it really is, but if that’s how she chooses to behave then honestly, this has probably been a long time coming.” 

He started the engine, but sat and looked thoughtful for a few moments, reaching to grasp her hand. “I love that about you, babe. You’re so fucking wise, and you’re right. It has. Thanks for standing up for me in there, too. Just wish it hadn’t fucking happened. Proper fucking stressed now.” 

Looking at her watch, she saw that the disastrous lunch had left them with three hours to kill until Andrea’s train arrived, her fingers tickling her way up his arm through the thick, grey sweater he wore. “I can take your mind off the stress, if you like?” 

The suggestion in her voice and the way she looked out from under her lashes at him was undeniable. Half an hour later, and he was relaxing in the armchair, smoking a joint while Ella’s mouth bobbed up and down on his cock. There were much worse ways to spend a Saturday afternoon, he thought. He could have stayed at his mother’s house, for example.  

The tie had been severed now, though, and while he did feel shit about how it had all ended, there was a very real sense of peace he experienced at cutting her out of his life. If she brought him nothing but frustration then she couldn’t remain. Frustration was the last thing he felt in that moment, though, taking one last puff on the joint before placing it down, not wanting to be too high when he had to drive. Besides, Ella was doing wonderful things for him with her mouth all on her own. 

“Mmmmm, fuck, your cock is so hard,” she moaned, flicking her tongue over the head before taking him back deep again, feeling it twitch. “Makes me really want to get on it, but I’ll have enough of that later, and I don’t want a sore little pussy to take that kind of pounding.”  

Working him faster and faster, her hand massaged the base of him while her mouth gradually added more pressure, his hips twitching and abs locking as with a deep groan, he spilled into her throat. 

Swallowing, she carefully tucked him back into his jeans, licking her lip seductively as she reached for her can of Diet Coke and took a big gulp. “Less stressed now?” 

“Mm.” 

Chuckling at his blissed-out reaction, she moved astride him. “Did I fry your brain?” 

“Mm.”  

She kissed him, all slow heat, his hands grasping tight on her bum. “Cool beans. Can’t be having a stressed-out church burner on my hands.” He laughed, and she received a hard slap to her bum, Ella squeaking as she made herself comfortable on his lap. They had about twenty minutes of the flat to themselves before Steve and Snedders arrived back, the guys laden with bags.  

“Happy birthday, Greenhall!” Steve announced at high volume. “Sorry it ain’t wrapped, but I’m a bloke. I’m proper rubbish at all that!” 

She had her face grabbed and a huge smacker planted on her lips, James beginning to laugh filthily. “Ahh man. If only you knew where her mouth was twenty minutes ago.” 

Steve worked it out in two seconds, shuddering, his face so sour that the flat was filled with riotous laughter at his expense as he strode for the alcohol bottles in the kitchen and cleansed himself with four mouthfuls of Jack Daniels. “Oh man. No. Bleugh. Open your present!” 

Ella peered into the bag, her eyes lighting up. “I love you! You’ve been talking to Hester, haven’t you?” 

“I fucking have!” he announced proudly as she pulled out a wooden carved buddha statue she’d been eyeing in the local new age shop, plus a bottle of Absolut vodka. “Get it open! Let’s do shots!”  

Ella shared a look with James. “Only him. Only ole’ Berserker over there would have designs on drinking my birthday present with me.” 

“Oi! Who polished off my fucking tequila last Sunday and then kept me awake while she bounced all over my best friend’s cock? You and your sex screaming owe me, now get over here!”  

He had a point, Ella scrambling from James’s lap with her vodka as he laughed loudly, moving to Steve who was lining up shot glasses. She had the feeling it was about to be an awesome night, regardless of what had befallen it in the hours before.  

She’d be right to, too.  

[lemonpeter]

Wait, He’s Hot

Sorry this took so long @dtownes89!! Life has been wild but today I’ve finally got a (at least right now) chill day to finish this fic

I am not and never have been a stripper, much less one of the male variety lol. So don’t take any of this too seriously, it’s just for silly fun. I hope everyone enjoys 💕

Warnings: stripper!Peter, Peter’s age isn’t mentioned but he’s an adult, fully nude dancer, so kinda nff, awkward situation, but then they all realize they’re horny for Peter

————

“This is so...odd,” Steve complained, arms crossed.

They were all directly outside of the club, the bouncer eyeing them curiously. It wasn’t every day that a whole pack of Avengers were spotted outside of a strip club. Especially with obvious intent to go inside.

“See, this is exactly why we’re going. Because you’re too uptight. Loosen up,” Tony told him, fixing the cuffs on his shirt. “It’ll be fun. And if you’re lucky, maybe I’ll even give you money to pay for a dance,” he teased.

Steve rolled his eyes, shaking his head. “Right....”

They made their way into the building, glancing around.

Tony was instantly finding a table for them, making sure it was right up front. He grinned a little at the girl on stage, casually tossing a few bills onto the stage as she danced.

Natasha walked to him, snickering. “Can’t even wait five minutes before you start spending? I thought we were getting drinks first.”

“We will, we will. I just wanted to make sure she knows what a good job she’s doing.” He winked at the dancer.

She laughed.

Nat grabbed Tony’s arm. “Drinks. You can fail at getting someone to hook up with you later.”

“I am not- I’m offended at that remark.”

“Be offended. We’re getting drinks.”

By the time they had all placed their order and gotten their drinks, the dancers had changed shifts. They made their way back to their table and watched as the new dancer made his way onto the stage.

“This one is pretty,” Natasha mused. “But he looks really...young. Think he’s even legal?”

“Doesn’t look like it,” Bucky murmured back. “He’s so small...Jesus.”

Tony opened his mouth to reply before closing it again. His expression gave the idea that he had just bitten into a lemon.

“What? Don’t like-“

“Peter?” Steve asked out loud, eyes wide.

The dancer froze, hands stilling from where they had just slipped under the hem of his top. “Oh fuck....”

His eyes instantly drifted to Tony and he covered his face. “I’m in hell. This is it. I died. And I’m in hell.”

The older man stared at him, quickly downing the rest of his drink. “Aren’t you, yknow. Losing money? If you’re just gawking at us?”

Tony knew that it wouldn’t fair well for the younger man if he just stopped and didn’t perform. But he couldn’t deny that he was fairly interested to watch as well.

Peter whined softly, nodding. He knew he would get fired if he didn’t start his routine soon. But his super coworkers were all watching him. God, he saw these people daily. He would never be able to look them in the eye ever again.

But he slowly gestured for the music to start again, shaking his head and regaining his focus.

The other patrons watched on, as well as the avengers, as he started getting into the beat of the song playing.

His hands brushed his shirt up, teasingly showing off tight abs before he pulled the shirt off completely and tossed it to the side.

His fingers brushed over his peaked nipples gently and he shivered at the sensation. He heard some murmurs and even a whistle from the crowd.

His hips rolled in a fluid, sensual motion as one hand slid down to mime stroking himself through the tight shorts he was wearing. And he was hyper aware of how those were the only thing he was wearing.

He didn’t dare look to the avengers.

But they were enjoying the show, almost to an uncomfortable level. None of them quite knew what to do with how attracted they were to the younger man. But they all felt it.

Natasha was the first to be bold enough to throw a couple dollar bills onto the stage when he got closer.

The dancer’s cheeks flushed and he blew a kiss to her. His brain ran on autopilot as he worked, nearly forgetting how inappropriate that kiss would feel later on.

She grinned, leaning back in her seat. “Cmon, boys. I know you want some of the fun too.”

Tony huffed a laugh and glanced to the others.

Steve looked mildly uncomfortable, but his harder-than-average breathing gave away how he really felt. Barnes wasn’t so shy in showing how he felt, posture relaxed as he sipped at his drink with his eyes on the stage. Rhodey kept glancing between Peter and Tony, one hand over his mouth as he tried to hide his smile. Thor had moved up closer to the stage and was freely tossing the money to the dancer already.

“Alright, I’ll play. I mean, he’s doing great,” Tony admitted.

“He’s doing better than that. And hey, we know he’s legal.”

“Nat, you’re not making any sort of proposition to him. He’s just working. Let him work.”

The woman chuckled, shrugging as she threw a few more bills. “We’ll see.”

Tony finally focused in on Peter again, throwing a couple high bills. He knew the young man deserved it.

Peter’s eyes widened slowly as he saw the money. “Wow,” he breathed, momentarily distracted again. But he shook his head, focusing.

His heartbeat quickened to impossibly fast as he remembered the next part of his routine.

He reached for the snaps on one side of his shorts, slowly popping each one. He kept one hand over the front, making sure not to expose anything too quickly. But the back fell away, bubble butt visible to the audience as he rolled his hips again.

“Holy shit,” Tony breathed, almost feeling dizzy with how quickly he got hard.

“Just imagine how good that ass would look with a few bites on it,” Bucky mumbled under his breath.

Natasha huffed a laugh, eyes still on the stage. “I heard that. You’re not wrong...shit, we work with him? This is...damn.”

Peter could hear them the entire time (thanks super hearing). His cheeks stayed flushed red but he didn’t stop again. He turned to the front again, teasingly dropping the remaining fabric a couple inches lower. The very base of his cock was visible that way, but nothing else.

The rest of the audience cheered and whistled, calling for the rest of the fabric to come off.

And oh, it did.

After a minute or so more he dropped the fabric entirely, hands sliding over his stomach despite how he felt like covering himself up.

Tony felt so wrong for how closely he watched. He had every curve and vein of Peter’s cock mapped out in his mind in seconds.

Natasha spoke exactly what the rest of them were thinking: “I’m never getting off to anything but this for the rest of my life.”

“Maybe coming here wasn’t such a dumb idea,” Steve mumbled, trying to hide the way he pressed the heel of his hand over his hard-on.

Tony couldn’t even find words. He just watched Peter finish his dance in silence.

The dancer was a lot more relaxed by the end, even laughing to himself as he collected his tips.

His eyes flicked over to the team one more time before he walked off stage. He winked at them quickly before turning, giving them all one last look before he disappeared backstage.

None of them could wait for their meeting the next morning.

[pasiveagressive]

Dancing With a Stranger / Luke Hemming

One shot full of angst loosely based on the song Dancing with a Stranger by Sam Smith and Normani

I own no rights to the music

Luke didn’t like to complicate things. That’s why his schedule was simple. Eat, sleep, work, drink, repeat. Okay maybe not necessarily in that order but the idea was the same. His life had been that way ever since he screwed up. His girlfriend of 4 years had seen him with his ex in what he is willing to admit looked to be a compromising position, and his life had been a mess ever since.

 He had not actually done anything with the girl, she was all over him and he was trying to push her off and inform  her that he had a girlfriend that he loved very much waiting at the bar for drinks. This didn’t change the fact Y/N had walked in at the wrong moment while he was pushed against the booth with the bimbo on his lips. She had stormed out only after cussing him out and dumping her old fashioned and his tequila all over him and the girl. Once he had finally got the girl off of him and ran after her, she was getting into the car and leaving. He had tried explaining the situation over calls, well more like voicemails but she blocked his number. By the time he had gotten home her stuff was cleared out of the drawer she had and there was a note on the kitchen counter. The note was covered in mascara tear stains and stated that she loved him and thought that he had loved her too, she went on and on about how she's sorry that she wasted her time with him and that she was sorry that she had made him unhappy. She said that they were over if that isn't obvious. Laying on top of the note is what really broke him, her apartment key. Tears landed on the piece of paper, this time coming from his eyes.

I don't wanna be alone tonight, It's pretty clear that I'm not over you

A month later Y/N wasn’t taking anyone's calls or answering texts, and no one from their tight group of friends knew where she was living. They had all agreed that going to her workplace was too far and didn’t want to be the cause of any public outbursts. He had finally let Ash drag him to a club. He needed to get out of the apartment according to him  and the rest of the group. Walking into the club he went straight to the bar. Ordered straight tequila, told the guy he wanted whatever had the highest proof. It had burned going down but after two or three he was too numb to notice. That's when he saw her. The hair, and stature he was sure it had to be her. He walked up to her and asked her to dance. She said yes and pulled him onto the dance floor. Something hadn’t felt right. This girl in his  arms was too tall, her hair was not the right color now that he was closer, so he flipped her around and her eyes were not the beautiful y/e/c  he was in love with. He pushed the imposter away and basically ran out of the club. 

Y/N had a pretty simple routine. Get up, go to work, come home, go to bed. Occasionally she would stop by her favorite coffee place  however she knew that he loved black coffee from the little place almost as much as she did. She had accepted that this was  now her life. She used to go out with her friends but most of her friends were his friends too and she had “lost” them in the break up. Mikey and Calum had been his friends first anyway, and Crystal was now engaged to Michael, so she obviously couldn’t make her choose between them therefore she distanced herself. They had met KayKay through Ashton so it’s obvious how that went no matter how close the two girls were. On the plus side she now had no obligations to anyone but herself. 

Her coworker/ friend had finally talked her into going out some months later. Her boyfriend is a bouncer at this new club she can’t quite remember the name of. She protested but Y/F/N smacked her, yes actually smacked her and asked her if she was going to mope over this stupid guy for this rest of her life. She had been in deep thought, seriously considering it when Y/F/N smacked her again, announced that she would pick  up at 9  and said if she protested again she would greatly regret it. 

I wasn't even goin' out tonight, But, boy, I need to get you off of my mind

It was eight forty-five and Y/N was dressed but what she was wearing brought back so many memories, once happy now painful. This was Luke’s favorite color on her and so it was once one of her most worn dresses. She was about to text Y/F/N and make up some excuse consequences be damned when there was a knock at her door. Y/F/N told her how smoking hot she looked and then continued to drag Y/N out of her apartment. On their way Y/N decided that this was for the best, she didn’t want to be hung up on  him the rest of her life and the best way to avoid that would be to hook up with someone else. When they arrived at the club Y/F/N pulled Y/N straight up to the bouncer, gave him a quick kiss and then walked in. Y/F/N ordered the two of them shots of what Y/N wasn’t sure. All she knew was that she loved the way it was making her feel. They went on to the dance floor and were dancing together. Until a tall, dark and handsome man came up behind her. Her friend took that as her cue to leave and went to find her bouncer boy she supposed, but didn’t really care. All she cared about was how good this man's lips felt against her neck. She turned in his arms and kissed him. This man was a sloppy kisser and she didn’t feel the sparks that she felt when she kissed him. The sparks that she felt when she kissed Luke. No she would push his name out of her mind all she would think about is this handsome stranger in front of her.

Dancing with a stranger

It was a year after the incident when Y/N got the invitation in the mail. “You are cordially invited to the Wedding of Michael Gordon Clifford and and Crystal Leigh Lauderdale on August 24th 2020”. Tears sprang to her eyes. She was so happy for her old friends, but she hadn’t spoken to any of them in almost a year, and she wasn’t sure why she was even on the invite list or how they got her address. She does suppose if they had bothered Y/F/N enough her best friend would have given the address to anyone who said that they used to be part of her life, something she would definitely be talking to the girl about later. She had been deep in thought when arms wrapped around her from behind. Her tall, dark and handsome from six months ago at the club. He asked her what was in her hands and she explained. He smiled, taking it from her and RSVPing her and a plus one. She teased him “oh you're sure you’re sticking around that long?” he had just smiled and put it to be sent out. 

Y/F had given Y/N’s address to Crystal she later found out. She rolled her eyes at her best friend and asked what if it had been a serial killer with which Y/F responded with a smile, “then I would have gotten to steal your leather jacket”. Of course later on the girls coffee run they ran into someone else from Y/Ns past. Y/F got to meet Ashton and KayKay. It was awkward and they all wanted to get out of there as quickly as possible except for the girl at her side who just kept talking and talking and talking. Y/N finally told Y/F that if they weren't back in fifteen minutes they were going to get fired, which Y/F tried to say was bologna because Y/N was the boss but she didn’t get the chance as Y/N was basically ripping her arm off pulling her away.

August 1st Y/N and her boyfriend were at dinner and they saw Michael and Crystal. They talked for about ten minutes before Michael mentioned that they had other reservations to get to but they were very excited they were going to be able to come to the wedding. Y/N smiled what she had hoped would be a convincing happy smile and wished them well. What she wasn’t vocalizing is that once upon a time she would have been Maid of Honor in said wedding and she so wanted to ask if Bryana Holly was doing a good job. But she lost that right, so she kept quiet.

August 20th Y/N caught her boyfriend with another woman. She royally flipped out on him and yelled that they were done, and then she went home and called Y/F and cried. Was there something wrong with her? Was she not good enough in bed, not pretty enough, not thin enough? Y/F yelled at her through the phone to get her act together and stop acting like a 15 year old. She told her to take the night, eat lots of ice cream and watch The Fault in Our Stars, but tomorrow she would not let any man get to her. She agreed to Y/Fs terms through tears and hung up. Tomorrow would be better but tonight she would cry. 

August 24th Crystal and Michael’s wedding. She was so nervous. She asked Y/F to come with her and the girl had obliged mostly to keep Y/N from drinking too much and puking all over Crystal’s beautiful white dress. Y/N didn’t mind though anything to keep her from facing her past alone. They walked into the church and there was a really awkward moment when the usher asked them bride or groom and Y/N’s brain had no idea what was going on, she just stood there like a fish out of water and Y/F had to reply bride for her even though technically she could sit on either side. They are seated. Michael walks in followed by the bridal party, she knows that everyone of her old friends will be walking down the aisle, including him. Ashton walks down with KayKay, then Calum and his sister Mali- Koa, finally it’s him, Luke, looking so damn perfect. She still knows everything about him and wishes she could forget it but not everyone can flush a four year relationship down the drain so easily. On his arm is the Maid of Honor Bryana, slightly confusing Y/N, Michael had made Luke his Best Man?  He has found her in the crowd and locks eyes with her. She wants to look away but can’t find it in herself to. She knows she shouldn’t but she still loves him, with every piece of her she still loves the golden man walking down the aisle. She sighs. She completely missed the ring bearer and flower girl as the processional music begins to play and Crystal walks into the church mom on one side dad on the other. Crystal looks stunning but she keeps wanting to look at Luke. She shakes her head at herself stupid stupid Y/n no more boys. Especially ones that have already broken your heart. 

The reception was beautiful. Although she didn’t really expect anything less from Crystal and she was sure that KayKay had something to do with it as well. Y/F was watching her very closely and counting how many drinks she had when Calum came over to them. Cal had been like a brother to Y/N as had all the boys before everything went down so she had to really keep herself together when they hugged. They talked for a bit and Y/N asked him about the tour and if he had found anyone yet. The latter made him roll his eyes but he answered anyway he knew better than to approach the subject of his best friend and lead singer but he did tell her he missed her. He left to go talk to someone else. The night progressed pretty flawlessly, Y/N and Y/F kept to themselves and didn’t get up to dance or talk to anyone. They were actually about to call it a night when Mitchy Collins, a good friend of the band and once upon a time herself asked Y/N to dance. She didn’t want to be rude so she agreed. But she wished she hadn’t the next song that had come on was Luke and hers. Nobody But You by Blake Shelton and Gwen Stefani. She had almost gotten through the night without hearing it however it was too good to be true. She held back the tears as she put her arms on Mitchy’s  shoulders although the shoulders seemed too tall to be Mitchy. She looked up and froze. There he was. Luke Robert Hemmings. She tried to pull away but he held her, and begged her to hear him out. He was still in love with her. He had never stopped loving her, and that night was not what it had looked like. She wanted to believe him she really did but she knew that before her it was a different girl every week if not every night, so why should she believe him. And she said this to him. He agreed with her that his track record wasn’t the best but she had changed him and she hadn’t even looked at another girl after her. Except one he admitted, he told her about the night that he danced with the stranger at the club, and that is when she kissed him.

[darth-bagel]

1, 14, 28 from the OC ask list for whoever you want!

Thanks for asking! Let's kick things off with Sylvas, I am actually proud of those three and the amount of backstory I shoved into them. And as I am at the very beginning of Smuggler campaign I'm mostly focusing on pre-campaign events.

1.What's one (cough-cough) experience your character had that made them very afraid?

Sylvas isn’t a very fearful person but they had few experiences that just stuck with them.

One was definitely when they got stranded alone on Nar Shaddaa, they have blown all their money away the night before, overslept for the crew meeting, and-- well their crewmates just left them on the Smuggler’s Moon. Hungover. With only their clothes on their back and the comm in their pocket. They frantically tried to call the ship-- but when finally someone picked up they were left with ‘tough luck, buddy’ and then the comm silence. Dread and ice pooling in their stomach they have to come up with a plan, and fast. In the end, they managed to even get off better than before, also they met some of their best friends on Nar Shaddaa.

The next time something like that happened, on Ord Mantell, the fear gave way to burning anger nearly immediately.

Another was also on Nar Shaddaa (they actually consider this place unlucky for them even if it is the most lucrative place for deals) they were walking back to a rented penthouse from a dinner date with their partners (it was back in their assassin days)-- but laughing and teasing was cut short when someone started firing at them and a blaster-fight had broken out. Later they learned it was a hit ordered on them because of a specific connection of theirs.

Taliesen pushed them away from the first line of fire-- getting shot between the eyes for his trouble, Rinna’la already shooting back as Sylvas scampered to their feet. Rin also got shot and eventually nearly collapsed, Sylvas tried their best to shield her further and lead them both away, themselves only getting hit in the leg. They noticed fast that the attackers didn’t use normal blasters as they weren’t able to stem the bleeding or carry her further with their own wound-- Rin bleed out in their arms shortly thereafter and when their attackers caught up… they played dead. Wishing and begging to any god in the existence that blood from both wounds would be convincing enough. 

They still wake up with cold sweat from nightmares about that day, full of guilt, just clutching Rin, hearing her last whispered words and waiting still, begging their heart to shut up-- head pounding and dizzy from the blood loss. The day they lost two of the people closest to them.

To this day they don’t know who wanted them dead so badly, and that terrifies them.

14. Do they have someone that they consider to be a family member, even if they're not related by blood to them? What was one of your character favorite moments with them and what makes them so special to them? (I'll do that second part as some mini-fic something)

This one’s easy-- Sylvas has many good friends but people they consider family are few: their two closest friends and their partners (now late partners).

Rilfaen Price and Liz (Vliza’cani’baishusse)-- they met those two, now very famous (infamous) bounty hunters, as they were working in one of many Nar Shaddaa’s night clubs. Rilfaen was (as a side gig) working as a bartender and Liz as a bouncer (at that time those two were also dating, didn’t last long), and well, long nightshifts have a way of bringing people together. They stuck together, even to a point of renting a place together, at least until both Sylvas and ladies got their big breaks-- a very reckless tip from a client pushed them across the money threshold and they were able to buy their own ship, and Liz with Rilfaen scored a bounty big enough to get them started on that career path seriously. Sylvas decided to help along and they created together impromptu ship’s crew. Ladies eventually split and Sylvas while starting back at running various ‘deliveries’ had met first a disgraced SIS agent and her partner and then fallen promptly into a vastly different line of job.

Rinna’la, branded as compromised while undercover on an imperial planet was cut loose and decided she didn’t want to return to Republic and possible trial. She sliced her way into her records and erased as much information as she could trying to make it as hard as possible to find her in the meantime. She stole money and important intel from dead drops she had access to and selling them on the black market to the highest bidder-- she always said that if you gonna defect you should at least make something of it for yourself. After that, she picked up work as an information broker eventually dipping into forgery. 

Taliesen was one of her criminal contacts and when she cut loose from the SIS he didn’t want to leave her alone, she didn’t mind as they were pretty good friends at this point. They worked together very well.

Sylvas at that point was mostly staying in Imperial Space because it was easiest for Rilfaen and Liz to work unimpeded-- and there one of their ‘deliveries’ has landed them on the doorstep of Rinna’s and Tal’s hideout. They didn’t know they were followed and after the dust settled they offered Rin and Tal a way out on their ship. They clicked fast, Sylvas’s easy-going nature meshed nicely with both of them and mutual attraction did its thing and well the rest is history.

Liz and Rilfaen eventually split away to their own careers, still staying in contact, leaving the trio together. Each of them had unique skills, each searched for new ways to earn money, and let’s be honest, they all were thrill-seekers, and when Rinna’la one day smacked a dossier full of recent postings for people wanted dead, with a sharp smile and a promise of a big payoff… they decided to go for it. Building a reputation on speed and ruthlessness they caught an eye of a certain Sith Lord who from that point on became their regular client.

Things were going great for the three of them, up to a point.

28. When your character was younger, how did they picture themselves growing up? Does it differ from how they really turned out?

Young Sylvas had many varied ideas at how things might turn out, maybe finishing some higher school, maybe becoming a pilot for one of Corellia’s squadrons, or enlisting to the Republic… but also considering their tendencies they already didn’t expect to stay alive as long as they did, feeling deep down they would eventually cross someone high enough or get into one too many fight. 

So, yeah it differs a lot. First alive, then a mechanic occasionally a pilot on a ship, then a dancer, then a smuggler carting with bounty hunters, and eventually a part of an assassin trio of some renown-- and after a 6 months hiatus a smuggler again. But that might as well happen, their life was already so goddamn weird.

[bungeegumsurprise]

Fire force request

Can I request a story with Karim with reader on their first date?(or something else lol)

Thank you?

A/N: I was giggling to myself like a giddy little schoolgirl while I wrote this. I am not ashamed XD I hope you enjoy!

(Oneshot) AU! But First, Our First First Date: Karim Flam x Reader

Karim possessed all the polar opposite of qualities that you looked for in a boyfriend.

He was THE ass’s ass to the people he was meeting for the first time, short-tempered, and always happened to be conveniently sporting a seriously long stick of serious seriousness up his butt whenever someone cracked a lame joke.

So how did you end up outside in the middle of Tokyo’s sweltering Summer, standing in a field of dead grass with that very same man?

You remembered how your best friend Hibana, who also happened to be the sole female owner of the popular club that featured only the best exotic male dancers-or how she preferred to call them as “gravel,” that was across the street from your workplace, successfully lured you into what would be the last blind date you ever went on.

Every time you and Hibana met up for drinks after work, she couldn’t stop going on about a guy that she’d known since they were kids because his family happened  to live in the house next to hers, that was also totally into you.

Though her description of him when they first met was, “The annoying brat had the nerve to call my beautiful plump breasts fake, and poked them with a random dirty stick he found on the side of the street. The cocky little thing turned his head off to the side with an unamused look on his face when I threatened to barrage him with my “clematis,” and smirked at me after saying, ‘You don’t have the balls to do it, or should I say, the breasts to do it. You faking fake faker.’”

Her pink pupils looked like she had used her powers to set them on fire from the way she swore to get her revenge on him someday.

But Hibana being Hibana, she didn’t think it was necessary to tell you that the one she was setting you up with, was the tall man with an athletic build, that had an undercut of black hair and a semi-long dark bluish-gray fringe he kept combed towards the front. Not to mention he was also the young bartender that had been working at her club since it opened a few years back, that you couldn’t stand to be sitting next to for than five minutes without wanting to set him flying out the window with your third-generation pyrokinetic powers, who went by the name of Karim Flam.

 -

You had finished getting ready for your blind date after closing your flower shop for the night and walked across the street to head over to Hibana’s club to meet your date.

You walked past the parking lot that was at its usual full capacity and to the front of the long line of people waiting to get in.

“Hey (Y/N), Hibana tells me you have a hot date tonight. Didn’t you say you’d run off to another country, change your name, and live in a cabin somewhere far away in a mountain where no man could ever find you?” The club’s bouncer Obi greeted with a playful smile and unclasped the gold steel clip from the matching pole to pull back the red velvet rope, “But I think this one might be a keeper. I’ve worked with for a while now and the kid’s alright. Horrible sense of humor, but makes a killer martini.” Obi immediately sucked his lips inwards and shifted his eyes back and forth in panic, realizing he had said too much.

You narrowed your eyes at a nervously sweating Obi that held the dark blue door open, “Obi-“you said almost like you were scolding him, and stood on your toes leaning forward to meet his eyes. “Don’t tell me Hibana set me up with him-“

“I swear, it’s not him! I know how much you two hate each other; I promise!” He nervously laughed as you descended your heels back onto the ground, taking a few steps past him and stopping before you walked in.

“Well, if it does turn out that you’re lying, and Hibana finds out that you slipped up and spoiled the surprise that she worked so hard to plan…” He gulped. “Well, I guess I’ll just wish you good luck now just in case she feels like having one of her gravel parades.” You innocently feigned, and patted his shoulder as you entered.

Obi’s shoulders relaxed, “Whew. I almost told her it was Karim. Hibana wouldn’t let me live it down or let me live at all if (Y/N) found out.”

The music continued to boom in your ears as you maneuvered your way through the tight crowds of bodies dancing under the flashing lights and met Hibana at the bar.

“(Y/N)!” She yelled, greeting you with an embrace as you sat onto one of the tall red bar stools next to hers. “I’m glad you could make it!”

“You wouldn’t let me hear the end of it if I didn’t!” You laughed, giving her a knowing look.

“Will it be the usual?” The current bartender on shift, Benimaru, asked before turning around to the machine of fountain drinks.

“Thanks Beni,” as he pulled the front end of the white towel he kept on his shoulder, wiping off that soda that sprayed onto the outside of the glass, and placed it on the table with a coaster.

You took a long sip of the chilled glass filled with vanilla coke and crushed ice, through the black straw. “Are you sure about this one Hibana?” You turned towards her, “Because the last guy you said was “into me,” the one that you completely “forgot” was also a wanted criminal, was a total psychopath! How did you forget the face of the man who was revealed to be not only a trained assassin, but also worked as the hitman for that lunatic Joker, when the name “Takehisa Hinawa,” was plastered on every wanted flyer and every news broadcast all over Tokyo just a few months prior?”

You eyed the woman sitting next to you who preferred to dress in a mid-thigh length, light pink satin slip dress that was two shades lighter than her shoulder-length hair, against her beautifully tanned skin, along with a pair of white stilettos, at any given time of the day. From her track record, you felt seriously unconvinced that Hibana wouldn’t be setting you up with yet another dangerous man, as you stirred the straw around the inside of the glass.

Hibana took a sip from the crystal glass filled with whiskey, “Well he’s not dangerous, or anywhere near skilled enough to be a criminal, I can tell you that much.”

“That’s not a lot-actually, that’s nothing to go on. Can’t you just tell me who it is already?”

“My shift’s over Hibana,” Benimaru interrupted as he wiped off his hands on a towel and pushed past the counter’s swinging door.

“Perfect timing, you’re date’s here! You can keep me company as I finish my drink, Beni.” Hibana got off the stool and hurriedly pushed a grumpy looking Beni towards the main part of the club.

“Don’t call me Beni, you fiend of a woman!”

“Wait, Hibana! Where are you-“ You reached your hand out but was instead met face to face with your date that was about to start his shift.

Your eyes widened as you pointed an accusatory finger to the person you had a hunch but prayed that you were wrong about. “You-!”

“Ugh, don’t tell me-That Hibana-“ He smoothed a hand over his annoyed face before walking behind the counter.

“Why did I have a feeling that it was you?” You sighed and took another sip of your drink. “I’m leaving,” as you dug in your purse and placed the money for your drink under the coaster before slipping on the strap of your purse and sliding off the stool. “Just tell Hibana I wasn’t feeling well and went home before you got here,” you turned around and waved a lazy hand.

“Hey wait a second!” Karim reached over the counter and grasped the back of your forearm, “I’m the one that asked Hibana to set me up with you,” Karim confessed as he released his hold on your arm when you paused for a brief moment before turning back around.

You looked him in the eyes and sighed. “Is this a joke Karim? You and I both know we can’t stand to be in the same room with one another without losing our tempers. You’ve hated me since the moment we met, so tell me Karim. Why am I here?” Your eyes followed his that looked downwards at the floor lost in deep thought, doubtful that whatever he said could change how you felt towards each other.

He breathed, “I’m not good at expressing how I feel with my words. They always get misunderstood and don’t come out the way I mean them to,” as you stood stilled in disbelief but allowed him to finish.

“I have a habit of putting up my guard whenever I first meet someone. You know the thing about Rekka, I’ve been like this ever since; and I guess the reason I’m always being sarcastic and tease you a lot, is because I’m comfortable around you. Even though we argue a lot, you’ve never once looked at me like the culprit.”

“So, that’s your reason?” Karim looked back up at you confused.

“Huh?”

“It wasn’t your fault for Rekka ending up the way that he did. You tried your best to save him, and at the end of the day, that’s all we can do,” as Karim gave you a saddened half smile.

“And! If you wanted a date, why didn’t you just ask me? Why go through all the trouble of making Hibana brag about you and drag me here?” You slightly tilted your head and waited for his answer.

“Because! I thought you’d turn me down, and by the time I realized I should’ve asked you myself, it was too late. It didn’t matter how much I begged her to help me, she wouldn’t help unless I paid an amount equal to the gravel I was or some crap, so I let her take whatever she wanted from my paycheck. I was going to ask you out last week and when I told Hibana I wanted my money back, she said she already blew the money from half my paycheck on some stupid shoes.”

“Pft-“ You both looked to each other for a moment before laughing at the same time, “That’s Hibana before you. There’s no refunds when you offer her money to do anything.” You shook your head at your best friend who still acted like the child from when you first met.

Karim rubbed the back of his neck, “I know. There’s no coming between that woman and her shoes. I’m pretty stupid right?”

“I think that might’ve been the first honest thing you’ve said today,” you joked.

“Then here’s the second most honest thing I’ve said today, I like you (Y/N). Will you go out with me?”

You purposely hesitated for a second longer just to see his cocky smile waver the slightest, “Yes.”

“What took you so long woman! Geez, you were about to give me a heart-attack!”

 A Few Days Later

“Can you tell me what we’re doing out here Karim?” You felt like you were going to melt into a human puddle for how unbearably hot it was outside, “It’s in the middle of freaking Summer. It’s too hot!”

Karim chuckled as he unzipped the large bag he was lugging around on his shoulder the entire way and pulled out his special instrument, “I want you to aim the biggest ball of your flames at me.”

You looked at him bewildered. “Is all this sun going to your head?”

He pulled his earphones over his ears, “Come on, just do it. Trust me!” as he positioned himself.

You had no idea what he was planning, “O-okay, here goes!” as you took a deep breath summoning your flames that started out as a spinning sphere that instantly expanded into something of a giant burning meteor, and raised it over your head as you launched it at Karim with all your might.

You watched as Karim held his ground and waited for the perfect moment for his instrument to inhale in all the fire as he rung his bell loudly. The sounds waves from the bell fluctuated the air in your flames, the heat expanding and compressing within the valves of his instrument repeatedly, and when the sound waves expanded, it drastically changed the temperature of your flames by cooling it  down.

A frigid gust of wind blew as your fire extinguished and you waited not knowing what to expect. You could hear the sound within the instrument stiffening as Karim aimed the other end of his instrument towards the ground.

“I heard you’d never gone ice-skating!” He called from the other side of the field.

You grinned, “I haven’t!” You watched in awe as the brown grass beneath you froze over into a giant field of solid ice to form your own personal ice rink.

Karim happily smiled as he ran around the rink towards you while holding two pairs of skates. “How’s this as our first officially official first date?”

[domesticated-feral]

Steo Week 2020, Day 1

Title: Sorry about the puking, but where are my jeans?

Prompt: “So, we meet again,” Rating: Teen Warnings: Drinking, almost getting drugged, vomiting. WC: 3036

You can also read it on my AO3

Summary:

“You seriously don’t remember?” He asks. “I don’t remember anything from last night,” Stiles said. The man turns around and Stiles gawks as he realizes that it was Theo Raeken. “You had that same face when you saw me last night,” Theo said.

or

Stiles drinks one too many drinks and Theo is just a bartender whose shift ended early.

~

Stiles was back in Beacon Hills for summer break. Usually, he’d be psyched to be back, but the summer started with his boyfriend of 2 years breaking up with him. He still had the mood of crawling in bed and downing a whole season of the Office along with a pint of vanilla ice cream, yet he took the grueling 26-hour drive back on his jeep.

This summer break, the rest of the pack was mostly staying back instead of coming back to Beacon Hills, they wanted to explore more of the surrounding area where they were studying. Being alone was alright, but the evening was going on forever. He was idly scrolling on his phone when his best friend, Scott called.

“Hey, Scotty, what’s up?” Stiles asks.

‘Just calling to check up on my best friend who’s going through a break-up. How are you doing?’

“I’m doing great-” Stiles dryly chuckles-“Yeah, life’s just peaches at the moment.”

‘If I were back in Beacon Hills, I’d get you drunk, just like you tried to get me drunk back when we were 16.’

Stiles laughs remembering that night, “yeah, and you couldn’t get drunk cause you’re a werewolf.”

‘Yep, speaking of, why don’t you go to a bar, get a few drinks tonight, celebrate being a bachelor again, maybe find someone new?’

“Eh, I got nothin’ better to do, so maybe.”

‘Alright, anyways, Malia’s calling me, so talk to you later?’

“Sure, sure, bye Scott,” Stiles said, ending the call.

Stiles takes Scott’s idea of celebrating his new-found freedom with a couple of drinks. He takes his jacket and keys which were on the dining table and he heads out.

It was 6 in the evening and the clubs would be open, but mainly empty as the night hadn’t started yet.

Driving up to Nine Lives Nightclub, a newly opened gay bar in Beacon Hills, he parks his jeep close to the bar, that he wouldn’t have been able to do if he came an hour later. He decided to head to the nearby park to waste time there until sundown.

He sits down on a bench and takes his phone out. He had received 30 text messages from his ex, after 2 weeks of breaking up, he wants to apologize and to get back together.

‘I miss you, I was wrong, can we get back together? It was a huge mistake, I did the wrong thing, blah blah blah,’ Stiles read in his mind.

He wasn’t completely over the breakup, but he was at a point where he wanted to get himself together and forget about it all. Stiles already gave him a chance, it was his fault that he ruined it by running off to someone else.

He turns his phone off and stuffs it in his jacket pocket. He can deal with it later. Or never, actually. The evening sun glowed as it inched closer to the horizon, the clouds ranging from yellow to red to a deep purple. In a while, the sun will set, and the night will begin. A night to celebrate his status of being a bachelor, of how he can meet the love of his life any second now.

‘Hell Yeah!’ he thought as he psyched himself up for the night.

With the sun setting, people were going to line up and Stiles wanted to get in before the line got too long, so he walked out of the park and up to the club entrance.

“I.D, please,” the bouncer asks, holding his hand out.

“Nice of you to think of me as underage,” Stiles sarcastically mutters whilst taking his I.D out of his wallet.

He hands it to the bouncer who looks at it for a few and gives it back as he nods. Stiles smiles and walks in the club, putting his I.D back in his wallet. The club had a few people, the DJ was playing some slow chill beats and Stiles headed to the bar to get a starting drink.

“What can I get you for tonight?” the bartender asks.

“Beer, whatever brand is on tap,” Stiles ordered, sitting down.

The bartender nods and pours a pint glass of beer. He puts it on a counter and slides it over to Stiles.

“3 dollars, 50 cents,” the bartenders told Stiles.

“Put it on my tab,” Stiles said.

He drinks it, mainly chugging through the whole pint. “Another pint, please,” he said, sliding the glass to the bartender.

They refill the glass and slide it back over at Stiles. He drinks it, and doesn’t order another one, he turns around to face the dancefloor and seatings. People were coming in and the disco lights were on, creating patterns that were almost hypnotizing if anyone paid attention to them.

He looks at his watch, about 15 minutes to 8. The club was getting packed by the minute. People were mostly getting their drinks, but to dance thy must be drunk.

“A beer, please,” He tells the bartender who nods and goes to get a glass.

After a while, they come and give Stiles the beer which he chugs down. ‘Why just stop at beer, let’s do some shots!’ Stiles tells himself.

“5 shots of whiskey,” He tells the bartender.

Five shot glasses full of whiskey are placed in front of him a while later. Without any hesitance, Stiles downs shot after shot.

It was 8 now, and the club was raring, music blasting through the speakers, people getting drunk and dancing, some people kissing away at either a loved one or drunk stranger.

Stiles stands up, stumbling as his leg is asleep. He shakes it and goes to sit at one of the empty couch seats on the side of the club.

He finds one in a nice area where he can see the bar and the dancefloor. As he sits alone, two hands come from behind and touch his shoulders. They move and sit down close to Stiles.

“Hey,” The girl said, pushing her chest forward as she leaned towards Stiles.

“Oh, hey, oh wow,” Stiles said, and boy was he trying real hard not to look down.

“You want to do some shots? With me?” she asks, inching closer to Stiles.

“S-sure!” He stuttered.

She calls up a waitress and asks for 10 Jager bombs. She brings it up and puts them in front of Stiles and the girl.

Stiles quickly drinks shot after shot after shot, he was getting fired up and quite tipsy.

“Fuck Yeah!” He yells excitedly.

“Here, drink some more, handsome,” She said as she had ordered tequila shots whilst he was downing the Jager bombs.

Stiles takes a shot and empties 5 shots of tequila in 10 seconds. He suddenly feels the need to go to the toilet.

“I will be right back, gotta take a pisss,” he drunkenly said, elongating the ‘s’.

He stumbles his way to the toilet, slightly dancing to the music. He walks in and does his business trying his hardest not to aim outside the toilet. He flushes the toilet and washes his hands.

Sitting back down at the seating, the woman hands him a drink. It looked fizzy, probably sprite with vodka or something.

“I ordered a vodka sprite for you while you were gone,” she said, as he took the glass from her hand.

“Oh, nice, thanks!” Stiles said.

He was about to drink the whole drink when someone quickly comes up and grips on his wrist.

“What the hell?!” Stiles yells at the man since the man’s surprise iron grip made the glass tilt and spill the drink on his jeans.

“Hey! Why’d you do that?” the girl said.

Stiles takes a closer look at who was holding his wrist and recognizes him as a familiar face.

“Theodore Raeken?!” Stiles said to the man.

“Can you leave us alone?” the girl asks Theo.

“Sorry, hon, security is on their way to you,” Theo said to the girl.

“Am I- hic- arrested?” Stiles asks.

“Not you,” Theo said, taking the glass Stiles was holding.

“But I did nothing wrong!” the girl whined.

“I saw you drugging the vodka sprite, so did the cameras,” Theo said.

Two big bouncers came and took her away. She tried to fight, but they easily picked her up and took her out of the club.

“C’mon, get up,” Theo said, pulling him to his feet.

Stiles was too drunk to walk in a straight line so Theo had to lead and somewhat carry Stiles out to the back alley where the employee’s entrance and parking were.

Theo lets him sit down on the concrete, leaning against the dumpster.

“Stiles, how drunk are you?” Theo asks.

“I’m drunk- hic- like a skunk,” Stiles said.

“Stay right there, you need water and something to eat,” Theo said, walking back in the club.

Stiles looked around, his vision was doubled and blurry. He laughed at how distorted everything around him looked.

Theo walks back out and hands him a water bottle and a packet of Doritos. “Let’s just hope you sober up enough to drive home,” he said.

Stiles tried to open up the chip packet but his blurred vision and trembling hands didn’t help at all.

“Damn you, Dori- hic- tos chip packet!” Stiles said, chucking it to the floor.

Theo sighs, “I’ll have to help you, don’t I?”

He squats down near Stiles and opens the chip packet for Stiles. He opens the water bottle as well, knowing that Stiles won’t be able to open it.

“Try not to spill everywhere,” Theo said, handing the water bottle.

Stiles tried to drink water, but he missed his aim and spilled water on himself.

“You are definitely not going to sober up tonight without sleep,” Theo remarks.

Stiles finishes the Doritos packet and drinks water, spilling most of it as he tried to. Theo pulls Stiles up and walks him to his car. He puts Stiles in the passenger seat and puts the seatbelt on him.

“We going to Mcdonalds?” Stiles mumbles.

Theo gets in the car and drives them up to Stiles’ house.

“Isn’t that my house? I thought we were going to Mcdonalds,” Stiles whines.

“You are going to get a horrible hangover tomorrow, but first you need to sleep,” Theo said getting out of the car and letting Stiles out as well.

Stiles takes his keys out but passes out before he stuck the house key in the keyhole. Theo sighs and tries knocking on the door, hoping the Sheriff would open.

It was late, either the sheriff was asleep or not at home. This is not how Theo planned to spend the only night he ended his shift early. He wanted to leave Stiles’ passed out self on the porch, but he also didn’t want to.

He drags Stiles back to the car and drives to his small apartment. He carries Stiles to the couch and lies him down. Stiles coughs in his sleep and turns over, leaning his head out the couch, he does the ultimate worst. He pukes every single drink he drank before out in the middle of Theo’s apartment.

“Fuck,” Theo mutters as Stiles goes back to sleep.

He cleans it, spraying a ton of Febreze on the floor. He had enough, tonight and went to his room to sleep.

-

It was morning, Stiles knows that because he got woken up by the sun shining on his face, blinding his eyes the moment he opened them. His head pounded and his stomach felt like it was tied into a Gordian Knot.

He hears the curtains close shut, and the sizzle of an egg being poured on to a frying pan. He slowly opened his eyes and this was not his room at all.

“Where am I?” Stiles mumbles to himself, trying to get up.

“Yeah, don’t stand up, just yet,” A familiar voice said whilst he was sat up.

The movement of sitting up sent a huge pang of pain through his head. It was like he was getting pounded by a jackhammer. He holds his head as he grunts in pain.

After a while, the pain goes away and he looks over at the man who was making eggs.

“Who are you?” Stiles asks.

“You seriously don’t remember?” He asks.

“I don’t remember anything from last night,” Stiles said.

The man turns around and Stiles gawks as he realizes that it was Theo Raeken.

“You had that same face when you saw me last night,” Theo said.

Theo was shirtless, wearing a pair of basketball shorts while Stiles was only wearing his shirt and boxers. His jacket was on the floor and his jeans were nowhere to be found.

“Did we fuck last night?” Stiles asks.

“No, last night, you got drunk as hell and you were almost drugged and I took you home but then your home was locked and you passed out before you put the key in the keyhole so I brought you here where you puked on my apartment floor,” Theo recaps the night’s events for Stiles.

“Sorry about the puking, but where are my jeans?” Stiles asks.

“Well, when I tried stopping you from drinking the drugged vodka sprite, it spilled on to your jeans and I’m trying to clean the stain out of it, it’s drying in the bathroom,” Theo said, turning around to tend to his omelet.

“You usually wouldn’t do that, or so I assume,” Stiles said, “do you have a painkiller around here?”

“Painkillers can temporarily help the hangover but don’t really help with getting rid of a hangover, here eat an omelet, I might have some apples or bananas in the fridge,” Theo said, sliding the omelet onto a plate.

“So what were you doing at a gay bar?” Stiles asked slowly getting up and walking to the dining table.

“I work there as a bartender,” Theo said, putting a plate with an omelet and a banana in front of Stiles.

“I thought Nine Lives has a full LGBT+ staff?” Stiles asked.

“Well, I’m asexual, so I think I qualify,” Theo said.

“Huh, you sort of always had that vibe,” Stiles mumbled, eating a piece of the omelet.

“Now, eat up, I’ll drive you to the club so you can drive your jeep back. I’m going to get changed.” Theo said, walking into his room and closing the door.

Stiles finishes his omelet and banana, putting the plate in the sink and the banana peel in the dustbin. He felt naked and vulnerable without any jeans, so he had to wait until Theo came out of the room so he could get his jeans.

Stiles being Stiles feels the strong urge to rummage through Theo’s stuff. He might still be doing something sketchy.

‘After all these years? Stiles, you’ve changed and probably Theo did too,’ He scolded himself.

He sits back down on the couch and looks around the small apartment. The living room was mostly empty, with only a couch, a desk, and a chair. It was connected to the kitchen which was also quite petite and had a two-person dining table.

“Your jeans are not dry, so here’s a pair of mine to wear and your jeans are in this plastic bag,” he said, throwing his jeans at Stiles.

Stiles was slightly taken aback by Theo, but he quickly wears the jeans he gave.

Theo was already outside waiting for Stiles to walk out so he could lock the door. They walk down the hallways and Stiles feels awkward walking since he was wearing jeans that were a size smaller.

“The jeans bring out your ass,” Theo remarks.

“I guess I should start wearing jeans a size smaller,” Stiles said tying his jacket sleeves around his waist covering his behind.

“So, why were you at the bar, drinking drink after a drink?” Theo asks as they both get in the car.

“Recently my boyfriend of 2 years broke up with me, so I wanted to forget about it for one night by drinking, then I got carried away with the drinks,” Stiles said.

“I’m sorry that you two got broken up, I probably won’t ever relate, being an ace and all,” Theo mutters, “but, if it makes you feel any better, I tried my hand at flirting and got a glass of water splashed on me once.”

Stiles laughs, but the laughing was cut short because of the headache.

“Well, with me, you won’t have to flirt, assume I’m already attracted to you. Until denied that is.” Stiles said.

“Are you?” Theo asks.

“Am I what?” Stiles asks.

“Attracted to me?” Theo elaborates.

“How can I not? First of all, you look hot as hell, and secondly, I’m a raging bisexual who loves hot bods.” Stiles said.

“Oh, wow, okay, thanks?” Theo says.

“You’re very welcome, Theodore,” Stiles said.

Theo rolls his eyes as he pulls up the Stilinski house driveway. He turns to face Stiles and is met with a surprise collision of lips. Stiles quickly pulls back with eyes as wide as an owl.

“Theo, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to-” Stiles said but was cut off by Theo.

“No, it’s fine, you’re a ‘raging bisexual’ who is attracted to me,” Theo said, “I’m flattered by the way.”

Stiles blushes and nervously laughed as he gathered himself.

Stiles gets out of the car and before he shuts the door, he looks at Theo one more time. “Thanks for saving me from being drugged, the ride back, and for letting me stay the night. For everything,” Stiles said.

“You’re welcome, I couldn’t let someone drug you and unfold the worst series of events that could happen to anyone,” Theo said.

“I, uh, should probably head inside, when’s your shift starting tonight so I can give you your jeans back?” Stiles asked.

“I clock in at 7 pm, use the back alley door instead of the front,” Theo said.

Stiles nods and closes the door and walks back away from the car. Theo drives his car back out to the road and begins to drive off. He waves at the car before heading inside his house.

~

[gameofdrarry]

Wizards Hearts: A Night on the Town!

Wizards Hearts Game/Fest ran for a full four months, and is now officially over, though we are ever appreciative towards our readers for spreading love to Drarry fics old and new, short and long. 900 comments were left as a result of the game.

Players are sorted and assigned at random to four different teams. All team activities and discussions are completely optional but can yield extra points to help win the game! There are weekly team activities and longer, creative team activities where players can imagine new, fun headcanons in the Harry Potter universe and perhaps a few stories of their own!

Team Activity 5: Celebrity Visitations and Incidents

As was previously reported on, Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter made visitations at multiple casinos. Those casinos have been kind enough to share their footage surveillance and first person accounts of what exactly happened during these visits. Some went much better than others, of course.

Teams were asked to 1) Write a fic about the incident at their casino (as written by their rival casinos) and tell it from the perspective of A) Harry or Draco or B) a 3rd Person Narrator for a minimum for 500 words. 2) Create an image to accompany their fics.

View the first Team Activity post here

View the second Team Activity post here

View the third Team Activity post here

View the fourth Team Activity post here

View the final Team Activity post under the cut!

Team 1: Loch Lomond’s Treasure

Before Draco was inside the casino, he thought the whole thing to be rather silly. A masquerade ball he would have been right at home in. But the way Harry had described it, this was almost closer to a costume party, and he wasn’t entirely a fan of their chosen costumes. He understood why Harry had chosen them, of course, but that didn’t mean he had to like them.

But when he stepped inside the Loch Lomond’s Treasure casino, all of his worries were dashed away, and he was taken aback. He had known about the Gillyweed Ball, but goodness Merlin… It was exquisite. The way the lights danced around the water seemed to make everything sparkle, and everyone was laughing and having a grand old time. Near immediately, the two of them were approached. Even behind the shoddy glamour, Draco was able to recognize Mr. Richens. Elder gentleman, halfblood, and owner of an up-and-coming potions shop down in Diagon. “Ah, Mr. Potter!”

And just like Harry said, it worked. Everyone thought that he was Harry, and that Harry was him! He watched the way Richens seemed to fall all over himself to speak with him, all while snubbing Harry. Unable to help himself, Draco threw a smirk to Harry for what he knew would come at the end of the night when everyone cast off their costumes. Harry chuckled at his side, and it seemed to throw Richens off a bit, but Draco gave the man credit where credit was due. He plowed on as though nothing were amiss.

And that was what went on for the rest of the night as well. Business owners, politicians, and anyone looking to get anything to sell to the papers all came flocking towards him as though he truly were Harry Potter. He supposed that was what they believed to be true, at least. “Mr. Potter, everyone is just dying to know who made your costumes,” one of the women tittered. Draco barely kept from rolling his eyes.

“Blaise Zabini, of course,” he answered, and no one noticed the smoother, more cultured tones of his voice, as opposed to the rough and tumble way Harry spilled out his words. “He’s a new designer, and one to certainly be on the lookout for. He was anxious to make these for us, and I think we can agree that he did a fabulous job on them.”

When he and Harry were separated, Draco saw out of the corner of his eye, multiple people that Harry bumped into or tried to play nice with all give him cold glares, and seem to spit venom at him. Harry, of course, took none of it seriously and answered it all with one of those sunshine smiles of his.

Later in the evening, Harry called him over, “Harry,” he said, and Draco heard that teasing tone in his voice clear as day. “Come on over here, they’re announcing the winners of the costume contest.”

Draco chuckled to himself. “Alright, alright. You won’t let me go until I do.” So Draco walked over to stand beside him.

He wasn’t much surprised when he and Harry were announced as the Kings of the costume contest. Everyone pleaded with them to remove their costumes, and Draco glanced to Harry. When Harry nodded, Draco smirked and waved his wand silently to send their costumes away. The shock, awe, and fear on the faces of many in attendance did so warm Draco’s heart.

At his side, Harry’s fingertips brushed against his arm. “You enjoy some more of the buffet. I’ve got a few… business partners to talk to.”

Draco near purred, “Sounds lovely. Would you like me to save you a few crab canapés? They’re absolutely divine.”

“I think you’d be happier to have them all to yourself,” Harry chuckled, and Draco did so love the sound, as the shivers running through his spine attested to. “Just save me a seat?”

“For you? Always.”

Team 2: Golden Scales

It was All Hallows Eve, a day that Harry tried to forget. Harry usually spent this day locked up in his room at Grimmauld Place. Ron and Hermione would visit him to make sure he ate and give him company. This year, the duo was busy with their newborn child, Rose, and hence, Harry was going to spend the day alone. 

Draco and Harry had struck up a new friendship after Ginny and Pansy’s wedding. Draco knew from the girls that this day was always hard on Harry, and so he took it upon himself to do something fun this year. 

That’s how they ended up at the entrance of the Golden Scales Casino. The Casino was organising a Masquerade and Bonfire Night to welcome the season. Bring your best mask and your whimsy and prepare for a magical evening, the pamphlet had read. It was just what they needed to take Harry’s mind off of gloom and doom.

Draco had worn a beautiful silver mask with green feathers and rhinestones. Harry looked equally handsome in a red and black mask that accentuated his emerald green eyes. They met in the front lobby of the casino near the dragon statue. Before walking in, Draco rubbed the golden ace card held by the dragon, which was rumoured to bring patrons good luck. Their masks were a blessing, and not many heads turned.

The boys tried their hand at the casino’s patent game ‘Bluffing the Dragon’, and Draco even won a round and graciously treated Harry to a shot of Dragon Bite. They were sitting by the bonfire, enjoying the warmth and spectacular light show performed by the casino’s miniature dragons when a flame from one of the dragons skimmed Harry's face, causing him to panic and jerk away, spilling Draco’s drink in the process.

“Watch it, Potter, this suit is Italian and very expensive,” Draco said irritably.

Harry, however, had started hyperventilating. 

“Calm down, Potter. You’re drawing attention to us,” he said.

“Shut. Up. Malfoy.” Harry bit out, and soon they had reverted to their schoolboy ways of hurling insults at each other. 

The commotion had alerted the authorities, and two burly bouncers approached their table. Seeing this, Draco put an arm on Harry’s shoulder to calm him down, but Harry pushed him away, ripping his mask off and pointing his wand at Draco’s throat. A collective gasp was heard, and then the room went silent.

Draco looked at Harry, eyes wide and full of hurt. Harry, realising his overreaction, dropped his wand. Draco turned on his heel and started leaving when Harry came back to his senses and ran after him, but Draco pushed him and apparated away.

Harry had bumped into another patron who had consumed the Queen of the Night cocktail, causing a coughing cum fire breathing fit. The ensuing commotion was too much, and when the bouncers escorted him to the golden elevator, he went willingly.

The previous night’s debacle was all over the papers the next day. Everyone had a take on what must have transpired. Some called it a lover’s tiff, others a spat between friends, and some even speculated that Harry had been led to the Casino by devious means. Of course, none of it was true, and the only person who deserved to know the truth was Draco. Harry had to set things right—the look on Draco’s face had haunted him all night.

He wasn’t sure if Draco would want to see him, so he wrote him a letter explaining how he’d been lost in his own head. The flames had taken him by surprise, plunging him back to the night in the Room of Requirement when he and Draco had almost perished in the Fiendfyre. He didn't expect Draco to forgive him, but he had to apologise.

An hour later, Harry’s floo chimed and Draco stepped out of it, wrapping Harry in a tight hug.

Team 3: Vanaheim

It was stiflingly hot inside the infamous Vanaheim Casino, and the glamour Romilda wore didn’t help matters much since it clogged every pore of her face, making her feeling more uncomfortable. But she didn’t dare take off her glamour and risk being detected. Ever since she’d been caught bribing Mundungus Fletcher to steal things from the more noteworthy guests, she’d been banned from the premises under threat of public humiliation. 

Tonight had been dreadfully dull though. She’d had high hopes for this event, with both Harry Potter and his more than questionable choice of boyfriend, Draco Malfoy, as guests. But everything was going smoothly. Too smoothly. Not even a row over winnings or counting cards or anything, just a slow hum of voices and the occasional outcry whenever someone won at that weird dice game they insisted on playing here that she could never understand or remember the rules for.

She sighed, glancing at her wristwatch, when something caught her eye. How on earth could she have missed this? She was sure she had kept her eyes firmly on Potter the entire night, but somehow she hadn’t noticed him walking up to… to none other than the literal god and eligible bachelor Thor Odinsson. Oh, this was good. This was almost too good to be true. But where was Malfoy?

It was difficult trying to scan the room for Malfoy while simultaneously keeping track of what Potter was doing with Odinsson, but when Potter leaned into the other man, placing a hand on his big bicep and whispering in his ear, Romilda felt like she had found the thirteenth use of dragon’s blood. Surely she would get promoted after writing a story about this?

Unbelievably, it got even better when she heard a cry of rage to her right, and saw Malfoy elbow his way through the crowd towards the two men. Romilda was whispering furiously to her Quick Quotes Quill while Malfoy started having a shouting match with Potter, and even went so far as to push Potter away from Odinsson. But in her haste to get everything written down, she had forgotten to keep her glamour, and she felt it slip enough that the bouncer by the door noticed her. He’d always had a keen eye, that one, and wasn’t easily distracted by gossip-worthy fights, not even a big one like this. Luckily for her, Malfoy yanked Potter away towards the loos by grabbing his collar. She took the opportunity to slink away in the general commotion that caused, grieving that she hadn’t become an unregistered Animagus like her predecessor Rita Skeeter so she could follow the two men and see the rest of the row. By the look of Malfoy’s face, it promised to get juicy.

* * * * *

Draco pushed Potter unceremoniously into the loo and slammed the door behind them. After a quick check to make sure they were alone, he cast Colloportus and pushed Potter up against the sink.

“I saw you,” Draco growled.

Potter’s eyes widened but he didn’t move. 

“In front of everyone. They were all watching their Saviour. They think I don’t deserve you.” Draco took a step closer until they were inches apart. “I saw you. Whispering in his ear, touching him, and he looked like he wanted to devour you. Make you his.” 

Potter exhaled, his eyes dark. “How did that make you feel?”

Draco slid his thigh between Potter’s and crowded into his space. “Incredibly turned on. He wanted you, thought he could have you.”

“The look on your face,” Potter murmured in Draco’s ear. “I was watching you the whole time. I love it when your cheeks and neck get flushed. You’re gorgeous when you’re jealous.”

“Fuck, Potter.” Draco leaned in and brushed his lips against Harry’s jaw, kissed down his neck and Harry tilted his head to the side in encouragement. “But you’re mine, aren’t you?”

Harry’s breath hitched as Draco nipped at the sensitive spot by his ear. “All yours. You’re the only one I want.”

Draco sucked a bruise into Harry’s neck to mark what was his, then came up and claimed his lips in a searing kiss. When they broke apart, Draco had only one coherent thought on his mind. “Apparate us home. Right now.”

With a loud crack, the room was once again empty.

Team 4: Arc en Ciel

Read here on AO3

[sweetblink]

Daughter Figure.

Daughter Figure.  

___________________

Al Olinsky x Reader

Requested by: Anon

#32 with Al Olinsky, reader is his partner, but he sees her as a daughter.  

#32. "I know I don't say this often, nor do I show it, but I love you." ... "I know."

Warning: fluff, hurt Y/N

___________________

“Alright, Y/N, can you hear me?”

“Loud and clear.” You murmured, smiling at the tall man you just passed.

The team was currently in undercover mode to try and capture one of the bad guys that’s been wanted list for longest time. You were inside the bar that was suspected to get one of suspects, Kevin was not far away acting like the bodyguard/bouncer, while Adam and Al were working as bar tenders.

“How are you feeling?”

You continued making your way past everyone, looking for the man that name was given up. “Feeling a bit better, everyone really had me scared when y’all suggested that I’d wear a short dress.” You teased lightly, still maneuvering past the crowds.

You heard Al snort, which had you fighting to not smile. Pretty soon you heard Adam talk. “I was not gonna let Y/N go out like that, can you imagine me blowing our cover because I had to keep off the men off of her?”

This time you snorted and took a small sip of your drink. “Overprotective much.” You replied, and just as you felt like the rest of them team was going to weigh in, you finally found the person you were looking for. “Found him, I’m going to approach him, now.”

The line went a bit silent and you heard Voight telling you to be careful, fluffing up hair and pulling your top up, you started to make your way towards the suspect who was sitting in the V.I.P section. Finally, you decided to act drunk, so you stumbled past them, accidentally tripped and spilled your drink on his lap, letting out a loud gasp you turned to the man.

“Oh my god, I’m sooo rry.” You slurred, swaying a bit. The man you guy you spilled your drink on stood up and gave you a small smile.

“No, it’s fine. I don’t mind getting spilled drinks on my lap when it comes from a cute girl like you.”

You let out a drunk giggle. “I betcha you tell every girl that.” you said, leaning against his body now. The man wrapped his arm around your waist, and you began to touch his chest. “Say, why don’t you leave the bar with me, go somewhere else and have a bit of fun.”

The man smiled, and you giggled, following as he lead the both of you out, just where you and the team wanted, glancing back you gave a small signal to the guys and relaxed a bit more, when you noticed Al following to make sure you were going to be alright.

********************

It all happened way to quickly.

It happened way to quickly for Al Olinsky, or anyone for that matter, to comprehend what just had happened. After catching the man last night, Voight took his cage, he confessed where the stash house was, they all suited up and were going to catch everyone else.

But things went sideways pretty fast, Y/N was supposed to be standing behind Jay, her gun up ready to shoot, but when he kicked down the door, a two shots rang out. The door happened to have a small trap that would shoot when knocked open, something that they weren’t told.

Jay had managed to get out the way, but Y/N wasn’t so lucky. As soon as the gun shot, Y/N was hit and everyone watched in horror.

“Y/N!” Al yelled, rushing towards you, and putting pressure on your wounds, on your lower abdomen, and the other on your shoulder. “You’re going to be okay, sweetheart. Stay with me, Y/N, just stay with me.”

Hank was growling commands at everyone, while he kneeled on your other side, Kim was paging the ambo, the rest of the team left to investigate, and try to find whatever evidence they can use to find the bad guy.

You were gasping for a bit of air, and everything seemed to be muffled all around. Al was besides you, ripping off your vest. “Where’s the ambo!” he yelled, Kim turned to him.

“They’re on their way, they’re three minutes out.” She stammered.

Al just nodded and continued to help you, while Hank took off his jacket and made into a pillow to levitate your head. “She’s losing a lot of blood.” He muttered to Al, who just clenched his empty fist and looked around.

Kim soon joined and took over in keeping your shoulder pressured, when finally, the ambo arrived. Sylvie and Gabby both got off and rushed over. “What happened?” Gabby ordered.

“Trap, the door had a gun ready to fire when he knocked it down, it hit Y/N on the lower abdomen and her shoulder.” Olinsky explained. The paramedics both nodded and quickly go to work, putting the oxygen mask, and everything.

“Syvlie call Med, tell them we’re on our way with Y/N.” Gabby ordered.

Hank pulled out his phone. “Don’t, I got it, you girls just rush to Med. Kim, Olinsky ride with them.” He commanded and the both nodded, they helped the girls and took off, Al rode back with Gabby, while Kim rode up in front with Sylvie.

**********************

By the time the team arrived at Med, Kim was on the chair, looking blankly ahead, while Olinsky was pacing. Hank entered the small waiting room first. “Anything?”

Kim looked up and shook her head. “All the doctors are busy, and we haven’t heard anything on her since we arrived, we’ve tried asking Maggie, but she’s currently busy trying to place whatever victims they’re bringing from the other hospital.”

Hank nodded, and Adam made his way over, and sat next to Kim, while the rest started to sit down, a few minutes later, Trudy entered the room, heading straight towards Hank and Olinsky. They stayed there for the next few hours, some heading down to get coffee. It was finally night time, and Will along with some other friends joined them, waiting, when Connor finally stepped out.

Voight and Olinsky stood up. “How is she doc?”

Connor sighed. “It was rough, we almost lost her, but she’s a fighter and hanged on, but she’s going to be alright, she will have to sit out from her job to recover.”

Everyone let out a breath of relief, and Al nodded. “Can we go see her?” he asked. Connor nodded.

“Yes, but one at a time for now, she’s just waking up and we don’t want to overwhelm her.” Connor replied, Hank shook his hand, and Connor told them all Y/N’s room number, assuring them after another hour, they can all go in her room and visit her.

Hank turned to Olinsky and patted his back “You can go first, we can all wait another hour.” He said, Al looked at him and nodded and made his way towards Y/N’s room, he knocked the door, before opening it.

Entering the room, he saw Y/N laying there still asleep, he slowly made his way inside, closing the door behind him, and made his way towards the empty chair recliner that was there. He scooted the chair closer to the bed, and he slipped his hand into yours and held it, he brought up to his forehead and then pressed a light small kiss.

Y/N began to stir, and Al stood up. “Y/N?”

You let out a small whine and felt your body ache all over. You could hear someone calling your name, so slowly you opened your eyes, and saw Al standing there. “Al?” you called out weakly.

Al smiled softly at you. “Hey, Y/N.”

You let out a small cough and Al grabbed the glass of water that was there and helped you drink it. “What happened?”

“Gave us quite a scare, the mission went wrong, it was a set up and when Jay kicked open the door, a gun was set up to shoot, and you got hit twice.”

“That explains why my whole body feels heavy and it aches”

Al sat back down and stared at you. "I know I don't say this often, nor do I show it, but I love you."

You looked up at and stared at him, after a minute you gave him a small smile. "I know."

Al snorted. “I like that reference.” Giggling you smiled and scooted a bit closer to him. “You know I see you as my daughter figure.”

“Daughter figure?”

“Yeah, you know how you often say that you seem me as you father figure, well I see you as my daughter figure.”

You blushed a bit and nodded. “Okay, does that mean that I can call you dad at times.” You lightly teased, wincing. Al smiled and nodded.

“Sure thing, kiddo.”

_____________________________

I’M VERY SORRY THAT I HAVEN’T POSTED ANYTHING! OH MY GOD, seriously guys I really am, I’ve been busy with homework cos ya girl trying to keep herself on the Dean’s List with my high gpa. 

How was this? Was it good? I literally hope this was lol. 

Masterlist.

[splat-dragon]

“Why-” why what? Even Lem didn’t know. Why was she singing? Why hadn’t she kicked him out? Why had she been so touchy? Why had she tried to teach him to play? There were a lot of why’s there though, knowing Evan, he was almost certain he wouldn’t get an answer.

And he was right. She simply give him a grin that stopped him, more sincere than he’d ever gotten from her before, a soft one that eased the fierceness of those green eyes of her’s, and stood, taking the guitar after his hands, patting his shoulder as she passed him by, leaving the guitar leaning against the wall as she left.

The versions of the songs I wrote this to were: Chase Eagleson's cover of Fly Me to the Moon which can be watched her Sean Reaves' cover of Can't Help Falling in Love which can be watched here   and Annapatsu's cover of Remember Me which can be watched here 

Don't let it make you cry Recuérdame  ~Remember Me, Gael García Bernal

They’d closed the speakeasy down for the day, and it was finally quiet.

 That wasn’t to say that Lem didn’t like the speakeasy—when it was open he’d sometimes go down for a drink, sit and watch the band that Evan had paid for, play bouncer in case someone got a bit too drunk and rowdy (thankfully, though, Evan always stepped in before folk got out of hand, because people tended not to take him seriously), and even when he wasn’t, he was often helping Marcel with the shine or upstairs with his Aunt Maggie, so the noise didn’t bother him.

 But sometimes, every once in a while, some quiet was nice.

Aunt Maggie had gone off somewhere—she’d told him she was heading to Keane’s Saloon to broker a better deal, but he’d eat his hat if he wouldn’t find her with Cripps, and Marcel was off trying to find some ingredients that he’d sworn up and down would make the shine even more ‘magnifique’ than usual, as the man had put it. So it was just him at the shack, and he was taking the time to do absolutely nothing, just sit on his ass, kick back and relax without Aunt Maggie yanking at his ear to get him back to working.

 But maybe it wasn’t his best idea—as they always seemed to lately, despite his best efforts, his thoughts went quickly to their benefactor, the woman that had rescued him, saved his life more than once, that was funding their operations and doing all the grunt work, was more or less family.

 She called herself Evan, though knowing the sort of people his Aunt tended to attract, he’d wager it was fifty-fifty that that wasn’t her real name or, at least, the one her parents had given her. And she wasn’t what most would call attractive, with wild black hair that never laid flat despite her attempts at a ponytail or braid, scars nicking here and there on her face and, he was sure, all over her skin beneath her clothing. Her green eyes, he knew, would have been a ‘marketable feature’ on a bride, if they weren’t half so hard, wolfish in their way, and though he’d known her for the better part of a year he still couldn’t meet her gaze without feeling like he was staring into something wild and untamed, something he should be meeting out in the depths of the woods, moments before having his throat torn out, not standing in the midst of a bunch of drunkards in his Aunt’s basement. Beneath them, always, his eyes were drawn to that scar that gleamed on her cheek, raw, vein-like and painful-looking though it was several months healed. It was entirely his fault—he’d lost his temper and exploded a great deal of flammable moonshine, and she’d paid the price. The scar, he knew, stretched deep beneath her clothes, and would never quite heal, and he could only thank a god he wasn’t sure he believed in that she hadn’t landed that bit further into the flames, that her eye hadn’t paid the price for his foolishness.

 He’d been interested by her since she’d saved him, putting down seemingly endless amounts of Revenue Agents as though they were little more than squirrels that she were taking pot shots off of her porch at, before protecting him all the way from half way across New Hanover to the Grizzlies, shooting easily from her horse’s back despite having him in her way. But over time he’d found himself a bit too interested in her, sniffing along at her heels during deliveries, and found himself so obvious after she’d fought off an entire train of them when his ingredient delivery had gone incredibly wrong that Aunt Maggie had started poking fun at him.

 Thankfully, Evan hadn’t seemed to realize or, at least, she’d taken pity on him enough to spare him the shame of being turned down. After all, she was an outlaw through and through, putting down so many Revenue Agents that he hadn’t the faintest clue how they still had any left, destroying their wagon stops when she was out and about, managing to slaughter dozens despite smoke hiding them and making her eyes water and being half dead after being blown off her feet. Why would she want someone such as him?

He sighed, stretching out on his bed, only to freeze when he heard… something.

 Something that definitely shouldn’t have been there.

 He was alone in the cabin, he was sure of that. Evan had been talking about getting a cat to take care of the rats that got in sometimes, though talking wasn’t the right word for it, she sketched on her journal (he was fairly certain she was illiterate, actually), but as of yet she hadn’t brought one back. And if Aunt Maggie or Marcel had come back he definitely would have heard them.

Though some might think otherwise, the life of a Moonshiner is not a ‘safe’ or ‘easy’ one. Even if you stay near your still, away from the Revenue stops, and didn’t go out on deliveries, you still were at risk of being blown up by a malfunctioning still, or being attacked by a competitor. He’d lost count of the number of times his Aunt Maggie had sent Evan out to blow up a still, or poison it, and though theirs was in their basement and, thus, harder to get to, it wouldn’t be completely out of the realm of possibility for someone to try and break in to poison their shine, or blow their still up, or even just blow up their shack altogether.

 So, his heart leaping in his ears, he grabbed his pistol that he kept under his pillow, and climbed out of bed as quietly as he could. Creeping to the stairs, and then down them, was nerve wracking, as he didn’t find anyone on the top floor, and the sound seemed to be coming from downstairs—the still? With his gun drawn, he used it to open the door that led to the cooking room, only to find it empty, but the sound became much, much clearer, and he realized, suddenly, that it came from the speakeasy.

 As quietly as he could, their shack was fairly old and prone to creaking so it wasn’t very, he slunk towards the door, clutching his gun, though he was starting to think that it was some drunk that had been passed out somewhere while they were clearing it out—then again, Aunt Maggie wasn’t one to miss folk, no matter where they hid, and drunkards weren’t the best at hiding.

  “You are all I long for, all I worship and adore,”

 He froze, paused and pressed his hand against the wall—what kinda fool broke in and started singing? That didn’t sound like any of their patrons, wasn’t slurred as though drunk,

  “In other words, please be true,”

 Female, definitely female, and they didn’t have many female patrons, well, at least, didn’t have many that talked or drank. They often came with their husbands, their partners, but seldom drank or talked. So he doubted it was one of them that had hidden and stayed to… what, to sing?

  “In other words, in other words,”

 Oh, wait, he knew that guitar! Evan had even put out the money to hire a band for the speakeasy, drawing in far more patrons than they could ever have imagined, and that was definitely their guitar. It had a particular twang, a slight flatness—he was positive that was their guitar, he’d been made to listen to it near constantly since she’d hired the band.

  “Iiii loooove… You.”

They weren’t half bad, actually. Strange, in a way, with a raspy voice, though not in the way of a smoker’s. Rather low, at least for a woman’s, and breathy, but not bad. And he was curious, and still wary (he was a Fike, after all), so slowly and carefully he slipped his head into the room, and you could have knocked him over with a feather.

Fingers he’d only ever seen clad in gloves, tensed around horse reins or clenching on a gun’s trigger were flying easily across the strings of a guitar, face usually tensed with stress or concern or anger smooth and relaxed, eyes closed as she crooned, though he could have sworn he saw a flash of green but she didn’t react so surely he imagined it? An outlaw, a gunslinger, a moonshiner and bounty hunter she would never have sat idly by while someone stared her down, gun in hand,

  “Wise men say only fools rush in,”

 And oh, he’d never heard her speak before, had never thought her capable of it. Next month would mark a year since he’d been freed, since Aunt Maggie re-established her business, since he’d met Evan, and in that time she’d yet to hear a single word pass her lips.

  “But I can't help falling in love with you,”

 Though, perhaps, he should have known better. He’d heard her ‘yah!’ her horse, heard her scream when the fire crept up her face, heard her bark a startled laugh when he’d said ‘Pow! Pow! Pow!’ so was it so surprising that she could speak?

  “Oh, shall I stay, would it be a sin,”

 Why, though, would she choose not to? Even if she hadn’t felt comfortable speaking around them in the beginning, only nodding and sighing and gesturing, surely, surely, she should have grown comfortable over time? The thing was, she had, he could tell. In the beginning, she’d come and gone, stopped in long enough to put money down for Aunt Maggie and scribble down what it was to be spent down, pick up a delivery or drop off the ingredients, or for Aunt Maggie to tell her where she needed to go.

  “Oh, if I can't help falling in love with you?”

 But, slowly, she’d stayed more and more. Plopped down at the far chair of the table, back to the wall and eyes to the door, gulping down hard-tack or whatever canned food she had with her, looking as uneasy as any wolf would be if it were in a building.

  “Like a river flows, surely to the sea,”

 Over time, she’d stopped eating so fast, only noticeable if you were paying attention, and then one day she’d finished her hard-tack and, then, after a moment of intense thought, kicked her booted feet up onto the table, crossed her arms over her chest, and dropped her chin. It had looked as though she were dozing, but he’d caught her watching him and Aunt Maggie scrutinizingly from beneath the brim of her Rexroad hat.

  “Darling, so it goes, some things are meant to be.”

 As it were, however they’d acted while she’d done so seemed to pass some sort of muster, as she’d walked in the next day, shrugged off her coat and slung it over her usual chair before sitting down, hat low over her head, as she ate slowly, sipping at a can of peaches while sketching in a journal. What she was doing, he didn’t know, but her face had been awfully serious while she was doing so and so it must have been something important.

 When she was done, she had tucked the journal away, swung her feet up onto the table and, plopping her hat down and tugging the brim low over her eyes, taken a nap before riding back out.

  “Take my hand, take my whole life too,”

 It had started snowing one day while she was inside, a small snowfall that turned into an all-out blizzard. Even inside, with walls that she, Lem, and Marcel had worked to repair and insulate, it had been freezing, cold enough that they’d worked to move the beds down into the cook-room, huddled up in what blankets they could dig out, every jacket they had tugged around themselves.

 She’d had no choice but to go out and stable her mare, tuck it away with Marcel and Maggie’s, though her face had said she clearly wasn’t much happy about it. That done, she’d dragged her bedroll down with them, stretching out on the opposite of the room, as far from them as she could get, back to the wall, facing them and the door.

  “Oh, for I can't help falling in love with you.”

 He’d been dozing off perhaps an hour later, woken every time Marcel got up to fuss with the shine that was cooking, when he’d looked over and thought that she’d left. It had taken him a moment to realize that the mound of fabric was her back, and that she’d willingly turned her back to them, to the door, trusting them to protect her and wake her if something happened as she slept.

  “Oh, like a river flows, surely to the sea,”

 After that, she’d taken to sleeping at the shack, and they’d stopped having to worry that their best employee was going to lose life or limb to frostbite. He’d been startled the first time he walked in to find a bedroll tucked up in the corner of the shack, not far from ‘her’ chair, and it wasn’t long after that that she’d taken to keeping a coat in the coat closet along with them so she’d have something to wear while she dried her other near the cooking fire, almost always soaked with the drizzle that haunted the Grizzlies.

 They’d have given her a room, really, but he and Aunt Maggie were sharing a room and Marcel was already sleeping in the cooking room so they really couldn’t.

  “Darling, so it goes, some things are meant to be.”

 He’d tried to offer her the bed, once or twice, when Aunt Maggie was out, but she’d given him a long stare, then a ticked eyebrow and a shake of her head, pointing at her bedroll. ‘I have this,’ she was saying, and while he had tried to argue that a bed was more comfortable, she had shook her head and gestured at it more emphatically, ‘This is fine,’ and he had learned long ago not to argue with her, and there was always that underlying fear of crossing some invisible line and losing what trust had been built with her, so he’d laid down on the bed, though it creaked and groaned beneath him it was a bed and infinitely more comfortable than a bedroll and he couldn’t imagine why she would prefer a bedroll.

 But it was her prerogative, and he refused to risk upsetting her and losing her trust. He liked to think they were friends, or close to it, and in his sort of life you didn’t have many friends, if any, and he’d wager that she didn’t have many, either, so why hurt them both?

  “Oh, take my hand, take my whole life too,”

 Though he wasn’t sure if she actually did consider him a friend. After all, their entire relationship at this point, if it could even be called that, was her saving him and him nearly getting her killed in return. She’d broken him out of a prison wagon and brought him home, but not without nearly being shot down by several squads of lawmen and Revenue Agents. Had had to save his ass after he’d hired untrustworthy folk and left them to make a getaway on a boat of all things, shooting down nearly an entire train full of Agents, and leaving her shot several times over in return. He’d even nearly killed her himself, he thought ruefully, the burn scars that gleamed and stretched and gnarled her mouth as she sang painful proof of that, losing his temper and setting off explosives that she had put down for him, and then been shot several times on top of that while he’d cut and run.

  “For I can't help falling in love with you,”

 So if she considered him little more than a liability, just a hanger-on that she had to put up with on account of working with his Aunt, well, he wouldn’t blame her in the least. It was the truth, after all, and if that wasn’t bad enough he was a liability what had gone and caught feelings for her.

  “Oh, for I can't help falling in love with you.”

With that rather depressing thought, he moved to holster his gun and step back, remembering only when his hand flailed awkwardly that he was still in his sleep pants and, thus, had no holster, heart turning to stone in his chest at a quiet laugh.

 Feeling as though he were looking into the eyes of his killer, he raised his head, coming blue-to-green, “I’m so-,” but she snorted, and patted the ground in front of her, the ghost of an amused grin on her face, and he could do little more than obey, wondering if this was how a man felt as he were being walked to the gallows, and came to a stop in front of her, “I-I,” but she reached up and grabbed his wrist, tugging him until he knelt, then sat, pushing his shoulder until he was sitting cross legged with his back to her.

 “Evan?” he asked, “I didn’t mean to watch you, I heard a no-noise and,” but she shut him up, slipping the gun out of his hand and setting it aside, and he allowed it, frozen as she rearranged herself behind him, kneeling to bracket his hips with her knees, accepting her guitar with a “What?” incredibly aware of her as she leaned against him, reaching around to adjust his grip on it, and then it clicked and “N-no I can’t play!” but she simply made a sound that could have been a ‘hmph’ or a breathy laugh.

 Seemingly satisfied, she draped herself over his shoulder like a harlot, and he prayed she couldn’t see his heart racing in his chest, his pulse thrumming in his throat, he’d never known her to act like this before and would have thought her drunk but she didn’t smell of shine or any sort of alcohol, and as she was in his peripheral he couldn’t make out the red that tinted the shell of her ears.

 Carefully, she adjusted her hands until they were atop his, fingers matching until it was though he were wearing a strange set of gloves, and began to move her right, nudging his along, in a strumming motion. He moved with her, though clumsily and hesitant, the sound discordant, and she nodded, “Mmhm,” repeating the motion over and over until he was moving almost in sync with her, before shifting to his left hand and beginning to do the same, and oh but that was a mess.

 It was much more involved, his fingers having to move and press on things, but she was patient, just ‘hmph’-ed when he got it wrong and made him do it again, and before long she removed her hands and sat back after clapping them on his shoulders as a way of saying ‘good job’, and when he turned to grin at her he hoped his face wasn’t as red as it felt.

 She sat back on her heels, and he felt incredibly scrutinized even as he took her in—she wore little more than jeans and a too-big plaid blue shirt with her boots; he’d never seen her so undressed before. Even still, he knew she could have him dead in the ground in a heartbeat if he so much as breathed her way funny.

 Seeming to decide something, she nodded, leaning forward and pushing on his shoulder, so he turned back around, picking the guitar back up when she pushed it into his hands. “I don’t know an-” but she harrumph-ed and splayed herself over his shoulder again, and he had the thought of some over-sized cat stretching over her lady’s shoulder though Evan was in no way tame enough to be a mere cat, maybe a wildcat, and he tried not to laugh at the image, it damn well fit her!

 She began to strum his fingers for him, and he fumbled to keep up—it was some song, not very pretty with how unpracticed his fingers were, but she was managing to pull a song out of him yet, and then she began to sing, and for a moment he thought she was merely speaking and startled,

  “Remember me,”

 she inhaled, strummed his fingers carefully,

  “Though I have to say goodbye, remember me,”

 and oh, she was singing, 

  “Don’t let it make you cry.”

 He’d never heard the song before, it wasn’t the kind of song performed in a speakeasy, or a saloon for that matter. Lem’s fingers fumbled, and she slowed her singing and the movements of her own fingers to account for his newness, hummed and leaned over him to help move his fingers along the strings,

  “For even if I’m far away, I hold you in my heart,”

 Surely it was a camp song? The sort of song an outlaw, a gunslinger, sang to his child, before heading out to work? Or a cowboy, for that matter, and he wondered if it was something she’d been taught by her own family. It wasn’t something he thought about often, just like you don’t think about your own family’s family. He didn’t think about Evan as a child just like he didn’t think about his Aunt Maggie as a child, it always seemed as though they sprung, fully formed, as he knew them, from the ground, and picturing them young and innocent and helpless was a foreign, alien thing.

  “I sing a secret song to you each night we are apart…”

 This wasn’t his sort of song or, at least, he’d never have thought it was. He’d grown up with the bawdy, raucous speakeasy music, and it was all he’d known. Lem hadn’t thought he’d care for more slow music, quiet and crooning, but with her voice crooning in his ear, so close he could feel her chest vibrating against his back, he was finding he was quick to prefer it.

  “Remember me, though I have to travel far,”

 How could a song bring him so many questions?

 He knew, some, of what Evan did when she wasn’t at the shack, wasn't doing work for his Aunt. Knew she ran bounties, knew she hunted and ran deliveries for Cripps, and that she collected things to sell. But where did she go? Did she stay around the Grizzlies? Or did she go down to Lemoyne? Or was that only when she was needed to for work? The thought of her disappearing, never turning up again and never knowing if she’d ended up dead, in the stomach of a gator or the jaws of a wolf, was terrifying, and his fingers stumbled on the frets.

  “Remember me, each time you hear a sad guitar,”

 She slowed her singing and the strumming as she realigned his fingers, getting him used to the motions again, before slowly picking up the speed and starting to sing,

  “Know that I’m with you, the only way that I can be.”

 This was… nice, he had to admit, relaxing into the motions. His fingers kept tripping over each other, but she easily corrected him, slipping his fingers where they belonged and, though the sound they produced wasn’t exactly nice , it was recognizable as music.

 It sounded like the song was starting to end, but he didn’t want it to end, so he remained where he sat, and she hesitated before continuing to guide his hands in strumming and plucking, before crooning with the same rhythm and tone as before,

  “Recuérdame, si en tu mente viva estoy,”

 And since when did she speak Spanish? He’d never known that about her, and it was easy to forget that he knew very little about her. Didn’t know how old she was, where she lived if she actually lived somewhere, if she had a family, hell, he hadn’t even known she could talk! But the Spanish in his ear was soothing, was nice, and he found himself relaxing enough that she had to prod his fingers to remind him to move them, and from the way she huffed it was obvious that he’d gone as red as he felt.

  “Recuérdame, mis sueños yo te doy,”

 Christ, but he hoped she didn’t feel how he shivered, the Spanish ghosting against his ear affecting him far too much. Her voice was nice, though odd, pitching up higher than it had been when she was singing in English, but still just as raspy and breathy, and by then she’d gotten close enough to him that he could feel each breath caressing his ear.

 This was a bad idea.

 This was a bad idea.

  “Te llevo en mi corazón, Y te acompañaré, unidas en nuestra canción, contigo ahi estaré.”

 He wanted to ask her what it meant, what she was singing. Why she’d chosen that song, or if there was even a reason, or if she’d just chosen it because the guitar part was easier than the other songs she knew (though that wasn’t saying much, he was still having a hard time even with her fingers guiding his and going at a pace he thought was slow even for that song) but considering she’d yet to say a word despite him knowing that she could, in fact, speak he thought his chances of getting an answer were not good.

  “Recuérdame, si sola crees estar, recuérdame, y mi cantar te irá a abrazar,”

 How had this happened?

 How in all hell had he gone from intending on shooting an intruder to more or less sitting in her lap, reclining against her chest with her hands on his, her breath ghosting over the shell of his ear, knees cradling his hips. Not that he was complaining of course, but he couldn’t believe that this was actually happening, that this wasn’t a dream.

 Things like this don’t happen to him.

  “Aun en la distancia, nunca vayas a olvidar. Que yo contigo siempre voy, recuérdame.”

 She released his hands, and he fumbled, but continued playing—it was a rhythm, the same fingering, over and over again, and though he stumbled and sounded even worse than before he managed to do so, and the grin he could feel against the side of his face from where she’d leaned forward to watch him made it worth it. He nearly dropped the guitar when she hesitantly wrapped her arms around his shoulders to help her keep his balance, so tense against him it felt almost as though she’d release and go bouncing across the room if he so much as breathed wrong.

  “For I will soon be gone, remember me,”

 The sudden switch back to English startled him, and he fumbled the guitar, catching it before she could let go of him to save it, struggling to find where he’d let off as she huffed a laugh in his ear, chest vibrating against his back. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had so much human contact, so much physical contact period, and he’d never known her to care for it either. Lem had only ever known pats on the back or the shoulder, the glance of her gloves against his fingers as he passed things to her. He’d seen her love up her horses, of course, but never seen her willingly touch a human more than she had to.

 Of course, he wasn’t complaining. Still, though, he wondered what had made her act so odd.

  “And let the love we have live on. Know that I'm with you the only way that I can be,”

 Her voice had become raspier, tired, as though singing so much had worn it out, and he wondered if that was why she didn’t talk so much or if it was because she didn’t talk, if talking so little made her voice sound so worn out, becoming more strained as she used it, the opposite of a wagon wheel, where a wagon wheel loosened up after working her voice did the opposite. Or if she didn’t talk as much because her voice became fatigued when she did so?

  “Until you're in my arms again… remember me.”

 Her voice hung for a long moment in the air as she slowly removed her hands from his shoulders, giving them a squeeze and allowing her head to press between his shoulder blades before sitting back on her heels. Lem sat for a long moment, the silence so thick as to be able to be cut with a knife, wondering if she would start another song, but only their breathing filled the air, so he kept a careful grip on the guitar as he turned the face her, unable to make out the expression on her face, an odd twist to her lips, her eyes hazy.

 “Why-” why what? Even Lem didn’t know. Why was she singing? Why hadn’t she kicked him out? Why had she been so touchy? Why had she tried to teach him to play? There were a lot of why’s there though, knowing Evan, he was almost certain he wouldn’t get an answer.

 And he was right. She simply give him a grin that stopped him, more sincere than he’d ever gotten from her before, a soft one that eased the fierceness of those green eyes of her’s, and stood, taking the guitar after his hands, patting his shoulder as she passed him by, leaving the guitar leaning against the wall as she left.

When Evan left the shack that night, she never came back.

 Cripps came by a few weeks later, asking after her, and thought she’d been working with them. They’d thought the same.

  For even if I'm far away

I hold you in my heart

 Months passed, and she never came back. A bounty hunter that she’d worked under sought them out, and a fortune teller, too, all sniffing after her, and all never having seen her after she’d walked out of their shack.

 Lem had been the last one to see her, and some of them didn’t believe him. And why would they? Evan wasn’t one to talk, much less to sing. So he started to change his story, saying that they’d shared a drink down in the speakeasy, and that was that.

 Besides, it had always felt intimate, like something special, and even telling Aunt Maggie when she’d come to him had felt like he was betraying Evan, like he was breaking some unspoken promise.

  Remember me

Each time you hear a sad guitar

 Life went on. It had to. Evan had gotten their foot back in the door, and he continued making deliveries, had to quickly fill her shoes and clear out the Revenue Agent’s wagon stops, build relationships with their buyers, sabotage other stills. He still caught Aunt Maggie looking startled when it was he and not her that came in the door, caught Marcel going to call him patronne only to catch himself and call him patron, and even caught himself looking for her when fights broke out in the speakeasy.

 But life went on.

  Remember me

[alecmagnuslwb]

New Year’s Eve: Chapter Six

Read it all on AO3 or previous ch. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5

One magical night, five intertwining love stories, all culminating at midnight with just maybe some confessions and kisses as the clock strikes.

This chapter: It all ends here, or just begins really. It’s finally midnight, everyone collides at one life changing party and of course some smooches occur.

***

11:33 P.M., New Year’s Eve

“So what now?” Alec asks inching a little closer to Magnus. He tries not to sound pleading, but there’s an edge to his voice that’s asking Magnus to stay for good this time. He’s close enough now he can feel the heat radiating off of his body, the perfect balance to Alec himself who always runs a little bit cold.

He listened to every word that Magnus said and with every explanation and apology the space between them seemed to fall away. He hadn’t realized just how much he missed Magnus until they were a breath away from one another. How much he missed his touch until he reached out for his hand. Or how much a simple ‘I’m sorry’ could lift the weight of a boulder off of his chest.

“Now,” Magnus says after a deep breath breaching the last remaining space between them, his hands finding Alec’s hips automatically almost like they never let go. “I’d very much like to kiss you and then take you home. And then keep doing that every night until the tour kicks back off in April.”

Alec holds his breath, his hands reaching up to rest softly on Magnus’ neck, a touch that he automatically leans in to. He can’t take it if this is just another temporary affair even if he knows it this time, can’t watch Magnus walk away out of fear that the distance will kill them again. Not when he knows why Magnus did what he did in the first place, not when they’ve just aired it all out like this.

“And maybe this time you can come with me,” Magnus says quickly assuaging any fears Alec may have and Alec breathes. Really truly breathes for what feels like the first time in months. “Or if you can’t because of work then I promise I’ll call you every night and text you every day and either way we’ll talk, we’ll always talk, about everything, no holding back anymore, no running when things get scary or difficult. Then when I come home in June I’m thinking we hit New York Pride and I make out with you in the street and then if you’re keen on the idea I’d like to come home to you every night for the rest of our lives.”

Alec’s never been keener to anything in his entire life. He should probably head upstairs and listen to his baby sister perform, but he’s seen her sing a million times before and she’d probably kill him if he left Magnus’ side right now. He really doesn’t want to leave Magnus’ side right now anyways. Actually he mostly just wants to kiss Magnus right now.

“I like the sound of that,” he says before he moves forward finally, after nine long months, connecting his lips with Magnus’. It’s a soft and inviting kiss that says ‘I’ve missed you so goddamn much’. Alec parts Magnus’ lips as his hand slips up into his hair and Magnus’ find the bare skin of hips pulling up at the t-shirt under his chef whites while the fingers of his other hand curl into Alec’s beltloops hitching them impossibly closer together.

The kiss catches fire. They’re alone in this empty hotel bar on what he feels is very likely the first night of the rest of their lives. His New Year’s Eve is no longer a thing to just get over with and leave the shitty year behind, it’s a fresh start, no a continued start with the only person he really wants to spend nights like this with.

Time passes by and somewhere along the way Alec finds himself pinned up against the bar, chef whites abandoned and t-shirt practically the same, with the muffled and faint yelling of a countdown in the distance.

***

It’s clear by 11:45 that Magnus isn’t coming back. It’s made clearer two minutes later when Isabelle receives a text asking her to take over for him at midnight with an annoying amount of heart eyed smiley faces.

On the one hand she’s happy for Magnus and her brother. On the other she’s nervous as hell because she doesn’t sing solo. Hasn’t outside of auditions since grade school and now she’s about to sing the penultimate New Year’s song in a room full of record executives, musicians and a who’s who of their industry.

She paces behind their little stage, Bat a comforting presence beside her pacing step by step with her. And then they’re being given the signal to get on stage, the countdown beginning and Bat squeezes her hand before picking up his guitar and heading up.

Isabelle is freaking out slightly less than before but definitely still just a little as she listens to the crowd countdown before her as she settles behind the main microphone. In 45 seconds she will be singing Auld Lange Syne to this entire crowd of a few hundred people. Make that in 40 seconds.

She’s also still thinking about that kiss she planted on Rebecca’s cheek before she left without saying a word. She really can’t be thinking about that right now though. One bi crisis at a time.

It’s not that she can’t sing, she knows she can. And it’s not that she doesn’t sing in front of way more people than this when she lands a tour gig. It’s that she’s a backup singer and frankly she likes it that way. She doesn’t want the spotlight; she likes spotlight adjacent which allows her the access and free stuff of the spotlight without the baggage and unwanted attention of actually being in it.

This with the spotlight literally on her and no one else is decidedly not spotlight adjacent.

Bat seems to notice her still beating panic and rushes over to her side. He turns her towards him hands firmly on her shoulders and tips his head so they’re touching foreheads not in a tender way but in the way two people about to go into battle side by side would. She’s known Bat for a long time, been on tour with him loads of times with another artist before they both met Magnus and then with Magnus himself. The touch is welcome and centering.

“You got this,” he says turning the mic away from them. “You’re Isabelle Fucking Lightwood.”

She nods, “I’m Isabelle Fucking Lightwood.” Her voice is steady now.

“Hell, yes you are!” he shouts turning the mic back and moving back to his position as the crowd reaches the single digits of the countdown.

She’s Isabelle Fucking Lightwood and she is gonna knock the hell out of this midnight performance and tomorrow morning she’s going to ask her pretty neighbor out.

***

The countdown keeps getting closer and closer to midnight and all Aline wants to do is kiss Helen and find out if the chocolate cupcakes really did taste better than the strawberry ones via Helen’s lips. She’s fairly certain it’s a mutual feeling judging from the laughter and the way Helen’s hands had lingered as they danced. It’s about to be a new year, filled with new possibilities, she’d like Helen to be one of those possibilities.

“Can I- “Aline starts as the countdown reaches ten finding her courage.

“Yes,” Helen breathes fast and affected stopping her before she can fully get her question out, the crowd around them shouts out “5! 4!”

She doesn’t hear the rest of the numbers or the happy new year shouts, too busy focusing solely on the soft way Helen parts her lips as confetti falls around them. It’s a happy new year indeed.

***

When the room starts shouting ‘Happy New Year’ and the crescendo of the band begins to play Auld Lang Syne. Luke knows he should probably just clink his glass together with Maryse’s and drink his champagne and listen to Maryse’s daughter sing. Maryse looks a lot like she knows the same thing, but also has other ideas.

He sits his glass down and without conscious thought moves forward. He’s not sure who pulls who in closer first but before he knows his lips are on Maryse’s moving slowly with his hands around her waist and her free one gliding up his neck. He sees sparks and fireworks dancing behind his eyes as they continue to kiss, the room fading away in a way it never has happened before with any other woman.

***

The bouncer blocks Rebecca’s entry into the party, he’s a tall imposing guy who’s not taking her attempts at fake names seriously. She eyes her surroundings the party inside is pretty packed, it’s mere moments away from midnight and well, this guy is tall. She’s not. The space between his arm and the cracked open door is enough for her to slip through she’s pretty sure.

“I’m gonna have to ask you to leave,” he says.

“Okay,” she replies dropping her head for a moment. The clock strikes midnight a cacophony of sound, fireworks and general hurrah going up everywhere around them. She uses his momentary distraction to her advantage running right under his arm and through the crack in the door.

“Happy New Year!” she shouts tossing a wave over her shoulder as the bouncer attempts to open the door wider so he can chase her through.

***

Midnight – New Year’s Day

The ball drops. Fireworks burst. Drinks are passed around. But Magnus and Alec don’t notice a single bit of it. They probably kiss exactly at midnight, but it’s just one in a series of many, too many to count. They don’t hear Isabelle’s beautiful rendition of Auld Lang Syne and Magnus completely misses the text from Catarina that features a picture of a passed-out Dot and Madzie curled up on each side of her. The new year begins, a fresh start and Magnus Bane and Alec Lightwood couldn’t care less, because their fresh start, their continued start is here and now with searching hands and soft lips.

***

Clary keeps her hand resting softly on Maia’s cheek as they pull back from their sweet, slow midnight kiss. When she opens her eyes Maia’s are already gazing at her softly the twinkling lights of the party bouncing off her pupils until suddenly her line of vision shifts to just over Clary’s shoulder.

“Well that worked out nicely,” she says with a beaming smile.

Clary turns to see what Maia’s referring to tilting her head until she sees Luke and Maryse in a tight embrace feigning a slow dance with their lips tangled together.

“Eeek!” she yelps before turning back to her girlfriend and burying her face in her neck. Maia chuckles at the action reaching out affectionately to stroke her hair.

“Oh, don’t be like that, it’s sweet,” Maia says. And it is, Clary can’t deny that her dad looks happy and he deserves something like this, but also this is her dad.

“I’m so happy for him,” she says voice slightly muffled where she’s still burying her face in Maia’s neck trying to un-see her dad French kiss someone. “But I do not need to see my dad make out with anyone.”

Maia chuckles and places her fingers gently on Clary’s jaw slowly bringing her face out of its comfortable space. When she’s back to eye level with her girlfriend, warm fingers still lightly holding her chin, she smiles softly, reaching up to delicately hold Maia’s wrist.

“Good point,” she says before moving her hand softly down to Clary’s neck. “How about you make out with me then instead?”

Clary grins leaning in to do just that.

***

Rebecca nearly slips five times in her slippers skidding through to find her way to the main hall. A few easy maneuvers down a few long corridors lose the bouncer, for now, but she’s sure he’ll catch up again. She follows the sound of music, heading towards a large set of doors that she bursts through. On the stage a gorgeous female singing voice rings out.

Rebecca looks up and on the stage is Isabelle Lightwood, front and center singing the last few notes of Auld Lang Syne. Her singing voice is just as beautiful as the woman herself. She closes on a soft note the audience cheering while Rebecca just watches on in awe.

“There you are!” a booming voice shouts from behind her breaking her awe. Oh, shit.

She takes off again weaving through the crowd of dancing, drinking and making out well dressed strangers none of them paying any mind to the girl in her pajamas, the bouncer on her tail the entire time.

***

Isabelle looks out at the audience grinning as she finishes her performance and receives a raucous applause. Her eyes find her mother wrapped in an embrace with a very handsome black man. She’s stunned, and definitely has some questions, but the smile on her mother’s face can be seen from space she’s pretty sure so she won’t question whatever good thing this is. She keeps looking out as the band breaks down Bat directing everyone around and a playlist of music for people to dance to takes over when she spots a slight ruckus at the back.

A familiar figure in a powder blue robe works their way through the crowd, a large imposing guard following right behind them. The figure halts to a stop once they reach the stage, eyes meeting Isabelle’s.

“Rebecca?”

“Hi- “she starts cut off by the guard catching up with her.

“Alright, young lady you’re coming with me.”

Isabelle jumps down off the stage, standing strong with her hands on her hips, “No, she’s not, she’s with me.”

The guard eyes Isabelle dubiously. She’s not famous, but he recognizes her from letting her in earlier and though she’s tiny she knows how to look imposing. Growing up with a powerhouse mother and three brothers taught her that. He backs down after few tense seconds, hands raised backing away and making his way back through the crowd.

“What are you doing here?” Isabelle asks turning to look at Rebecca.

“I came to see you,” Rebecca says fiddling with the tie on her robe. “I wanted to ask you something.”

Isabelle looks at her confused. “We live in the same building; you didn’t have to come all this way in your pajamas.”

Rebecca looks down at herself almost like she forgot she was wearing pajamas still. Her face travels back up eyes meeting Isabelle with an adorable, slightly embarrassed look on her face.

“Probably,” she shrugs. “But it couldn’t wait. Might have lost my nerve if I didn’t find you now.”

Isabelle moves a hand from her hips to make a go on gesture in the space between them.

“Right,” Rebecca starts with a deep breath. “This might be a little weird, but I was wondering if you wanted to get dinner sometime? Like, as in a date?”

Isabelle smiles. Rebecca is definitely weird, but she’s sweet and incredibly pretty and Isabelle would be lying if she said the idea of going out with her hadn’t crossed her mind once or twice in the hours they spent trapped in that elevator and the time since.

“I’d love that,” she says, uncertain of what might come of this, but willing to take the leap. It is a New Year after all. A fresh start.

Rebecca nods her head a little furiously, “Great, that’s awesome. Wasn’t sure you’d say yes since I’ve spent most of the time we’ve known each other complaining about holidays, damning relationships and in my pajamas.”

Isabelle laughs reaching out to take one of Rebecca’s hands in hers.

“It was all kind of cute in a grumpy, quirky sort of way to be honest.”

Rebecca beams at her and Isabelle could get very used to having that much less grumpy look directed at her.

“You have a really pretty voice, by the way,” Rebecca says looking right into her eyes. Isabelle tries to keep the blush she feels forming on her cheeks in control, but mostly fails as she gives her quiet thanks.

“You want to dance?” Isabelle asks after a few moments of them just smiling at one another.

Rebecca nods as Isabelle pulls her in close by the ends of the ties on her robe moving to the beat.

***

Eventually because of air, Maryse pulls back from Luke and puts a little distance between them a smile on her lips.

“So, that works,” Luke says with a deep chuckle licking his lips as his hands fall a little uselessly to his sides. Maryse laughs moving one of her hands from Luke’s neck to glide her thumb across her bottom lip. Somewhere along the line during the kiss she had the thought to sit her champagne down, but she doesn’t recall it at all.

“It does,” she says completely enamored by the man in front of her.

“Sorry you missed your daughter sing,” Luke says pointing his thumb in the direction of the stage.

“It’s okay,” she says knowing Isabelle won’t be upset. More than any of her children Isabelle has been pushing for her to get back out there. She’ll be over the damn moon about this.

“I know you missed dinner,” Luke says after a few beats of just looking at her like she’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen holding out a hand for Maryse. “How about we go find somewhere to eat and talk some more, really talk this time?”

“I’d love that,” Maryse says taking his hand and letting herself be guided out the door. She let him slip away once before and she has no intentions to ever let it happens again.

She tosses a glance behind her to see Maia and Clary completely engrossed in one another and smiles before pulling her attention back to the man whose warm hand holds hers tightly like he’s just as determined as she is to not let this slip away again.

***

Aline and Helen pour out onto the street laughing hand in hand. After they’re mind blowing midnight kiss Aline had suggested heading out and Helen had eagerly agreed grabbing their coats. It’s about 12:30 now people still shouting as they walk down the crowded streets. Getting a cab will be impossible and as much as Aline would like to take Helen home right this second traffic isn’t going to let that happen. Which is okay, it’s a New Year, they have plenty of time.

They stand right outside of the building just staring at each other moonily when Aline finally speaks up.

“Can I walk you home?”

“Yeah, I’d like that,” Helen smiles about to turn and start walking when the door behind them bursts back open two men Aline immediately recognizes tumbling out. Alec’s chef whites dangle from his hand, his tight black t-shirt disheveled as all get out. He’s plastered to Magnus’ back, arms wrapped around his waist one hand sliding up under Magnus’ shirt, the two are seemingly unable to keep their hands off of each other as they outright giggle Magnus reaching back to not so subtly cop a feel slipping a hand into Alec’s back pocket. Magnus catches sight of her first when he turns his head to nudge at Alec’s stopping dead in his tracks causing Alec to bump into him a little roughly due to the abruptness of it.

“Oh,” he says looking up from where his face had been buried in Magnus’ neck. “Aline, hey.”

“Alec,” she says with a tilt of the head, smirking before turning her gaze to Magnus. “Magnus.”

“Who’s your friend?” Alec says looking down at their joined hands, his own smirk on his lips when he looks back up at Aline.

Aline glares at him. “This is Helen.” Helen gives an adorable wave to the pair who still haven’t actually taken their hands off of one another.

Magnus at least has the presence of mind and politeness to let go of Alec a bit waving back at Helen and introducing them both to her.

“Well,” Alec starts slowly nudging Magnus to move forward. “It was nice meeting you Helen.” He nods with a polite smile in her direction. “Aline we’ll see you soon I’m sure.”

Aline rolls her eyes smiling at the use of ‘we.’ They’d always been one of those annoying royal we couples. She’s glad to see they’re back at it.

She waves as Magnus does the same reaching for Alec’s hands to pull them out from under his shirt and drags him to a nearby limousine. He taps on the window, the driver bringing it down quickly then nodding. The doors unclick loudly.

“Thanks for not fucking it up, Bane!” Aline yells just as he opens the door over exaggeratedly holding out a gentlemanly arm to signify Alec gets in first. She can’t see Alec roll his eyes fondly, but she knows that he does. Magnus swerves with a smile, sending her a faux salute before Alec, who’s half in the limo, half hanging out grabs him by the waist pulling him backwards to tumble inside. A tan arm slips out quickly pulling the door shut and Aline shakes her head sending up a prayer to some higher power that Magnus’ driver has good ear plugs or a soundproof divider.

“Well they seem to be having a good night,” Helen says tugging on Aline’s hand.

Aline smiles turning back to her. She leans in laying a soft, easy kiss on Helen’s lips.

“They’re not the only ones.”

***

New Year’s Day – Morning

The morning sun burns bright in the sky and scattered across New York City five couples some new, some reunited and some looking towards the future set off on a new year filled with endless possibilities of love. Rebecca Lewis and Isabelle Lightwood text each other over breakfast a few doors down from one another discussing first date plans and Aline Penhallow wakes up to a face full of Helen Blackthorn’s blonde hair and snuggles in closer arms wrapping tight around soft skin.

Maryse Lightwood and Luke Garroway don’t go to sleep, they find a new 24 hour diner to call their own, finally learning the things they hadn’t the year before and Maia Roberts spends another New Year’s Day dancing in the kitchen with Clary Garroway, except this time it’s not a fresh relationship, this time they’re both thinking about going ring shopping tomorrow for the other.

And in a loft that’s been left nearly abandoned for months because it once felt haunted by the ghosts of their love Magnus Bane and Alec Lightwood burrow under the covers hiding from the morning light completely wrapped up in each other’s arms with the intention of never letting go.

[mochixjimin]

What Lurks in the Shadows p.1

Vampire!Au, PJM x KTH

Words: 1.7K

You started off the morning hungover and broke. You were never the type to hold onto a job for long enough, but this latest incident wasn't your fault; your last employer was a complete creep. He said gross things, attempted to grope certain staff members, and dangled tips in exchange for "favors" so you had enough and allowed your mouth to slip some words other than, "Yes sir, I understand, my apologies". Unfortunately for you, the boss was the son of some hotshot restaurateur and when you told him to "kindly remove his head from his ass to see where he was groping" you were called an ungrateful bitch and fired right there. The only thing you really wished you did was to give him a swift kick to the groin before turning on your heels and walking out head high, but as you left he promised to ruin your reputation and that he did.

"God ___, I am so sorry that bastard really fired you! Especially on my day off, I would have loved to see that go down! What did you say?!” Your eager friend from the same club worked, Chaewon was a bartender so she didn’t receive the same amount of workplace harassment that you did being a waitress/host, but to say she didn’t receive some perverted comments would be anything less than the truth.

You sucked in through your teeth and let out a haughty exhale as you lay in bed next to her, “Dude, it was bullshit. Deoksu is just an entitled pretty boy whose daddy gets him whatever he wants and I am not a prize to be bought.” Thinking about that incident last week still made your blood boil, “He grabbed my ass then had the audacity to get mad when I tell him I’m seeing someone. You should have seen his face then Chaewonnie, he was so red and started spouting off about how I just wanted his money and tried to seduce him into sleeping with me so I’d get pregnant.”

“Yuck, Deoksu is an idiot. Who would ever procreate with that roach? And I thought you and Jaeyoon-ah broke up, are you seeing someone new!? Are you dating Mina now?” Chaewon was very open about your sexuality and relationships, but you and Jaeyoon broke up only two months ago and it was devastating; he completed his military training, but decided it would be best to go to the United States for a while for a change in scenery and that change meant without you. It seemed amicable enough, but you cried for an entire month after he left for the airport.

Your brain bounced around all the memories you couldn’t erase from the 3-year relationship when Chaewon snapped up and spoke, “Oh! You can work at that club that Yoongi owns! They’re pretty well known and I’m sure I can put in a good word for you.” You turned to roll on your side and propped your head on your arm, “Nah Chaewon, you shouldn’t ask him for that, I can find a job…”

“It’s been two months ____! You can’t sit here and mope around, I will call Yoongi after I leave and he’ll probably text you or his receptionist will call.” Chaewon told you as she got up to stretch and do her “morning dance” to loosen up as she prepared for the day, “Also, it’s about time you met my boyfriend don’t you think?”

“Okay ___, you can do this. Just walk in the door, ask for Yoongi, and start working hopefully.” You aired to yourself as a mini pep talk before walking up to the bouncer at the door. He wasn’t too big, but slim and yet his biceps were bigger than your head, “Um, excuse me? I have an interview with Min Yoongi, I’m ____.” He simply nodded and unclasped the velvet rope to let you past all the other people waiting in line to enter, “She got in… dressed like that?! She must be blowing the owner or something.” You overheard and turned your head to shoot daggers at the person who let that stupidity fall out their mouth, the man quickly dipped his head in shame and you smirked at his lack of courage to mouth off directly to you. Your outfit was appropriate for a club, not slinky and too tight, but cute enough to be taken seriously. There was a job on the line and you were ready for a successful bite, “Why, hello! You must be ____! Chaewon called me and told me all about you! You are so pretty and smell really nice!” The random woman blurted as she came from behind her desk to pull you into an awkward, yet firm hug. “I’m Miyeon, nice to meet you!” She looked no more than twenty-six and dressed in leather pants, striped top, and stood tall with heels on; her hair was a pastel purple and pulled into a messy bun, showing her many piercings and tattoos, “I think Mr. Min has one client in his office, but he should be out any second, have a seat.”

You obliged, smiled, and sat on the nice couch in the back of the club. It honestly looked nothing like the flashy lights and blaring music on the other side of the wall, if you had walked in this way, it would seem as if the local office was unfortunately placed near a booming nightclub, “Ah, Mr. Woo, I am happy to business with you. I hope that our agreements will last a lifetime.” The man said as he shook hands with an older gentleman, maybe around thirty, but handsome as ever. He winked at you as he left making you blush but you quickly groomed yourself and focused on the bigger, more important issue at hand.

“Mr. Min, your appointment is here. Should I hold your calls or are you out for the night?” The lively receptionist asked as Yoongi came back around to fiddle with certain items on her desk, “Miyeon, I told you, it’s okay to call me Yoongi and yes, if anyone calls, I’m not in the office. Hello ____, I’m glad you could make it. Step into my office.” He added and allowed you to stand up, you didn’t have a clue why you were so nervous, but maybe that you’d be working for one of the biggest nightclub owners and that he also managed to be your best friend’s boyfriend did not help either. As you two walked down the hall, you looked at all the acts that were in his club; famous musicians, artists, actors, and the like.  Deoksu’s stupid club couldn’t get local bands and Yoongi has been around platinum recording artists, another thing you noticed was the sleek, effortless way he walked, not a care in the world and a knowing smirk adorning his face as you examined everything. “So how long have you known Chaewon?”

He asked, breaking the silence you two were in, “Oh, for a long time! I think we really got to know each other in our elementary school days, and ever since then, we’ve been tight ever since! We tell each other everything.”

Yoongi sort of faltered in his steps as he stood at his office door and quirked an eyebrow, “Everything? Even the business of this club?” You quickly backtracked, “I mean, um, not everything everything! She’s talked about you to me as well, but I don’t know much… and just that it’s a nightclub pretty much.” He simply laughed and opened the door, everything in his office looked so high-tech, “Wow. Chaewon never told me you were into music like this.” Yoongi chuckled again and sat at his desk offering you a seat across from him, “So she hasn’t told you how this club is run?” You looked at him in confusion, “No, not really? I mean I’m assuming it is run like my last club, minus the harassment and inappropriate comments.” Yoongi paused and leaned back in his chair as if trying to find the exact words to say, “Well yes. This will be a standard nightclub operation, you will be a host, entertain guests, and serve them as deemed necessary. But also, as you know Chaewon can’t keep a secret so this will have to be between us for the time being.” You perked up in confusion and a little bubble of anxiety started to come up, “What do you mean? This isn’t like a porn club or anything, because I am no-” He cut you off, “No ___, it isn’t a porn club. More so a nightclub with you might say, benefits for the right customers. If you need extra money on top of hosting you could also host for that as well.”

You wanted to scream, “Are you seriously trying to get me to sleep with you!? Chaewon is my best friend and I’m not keeping my mouth shut on a pervert like you.” As you got up to leave, Yoongi looked to your eyes and you felt locked in, “Listen to me ___, I am not asking you to have sex with me, I would never. But there is a clientele that you are probably not familiar with, so why don’t you take a seat and I will explain it to you in a better way?” In a trance-like state, you walked back to the chair and sat back down, “Now I’m going to tell you this and you can’t freak out okay?” Unwittingly you nodded, “What is happening. Why do I feel like I have to obey whatever you say?” Yoongi blinked and his irises were tinted yellow making you completely break from his gaze to shout, “What is wrong with your eyes!? What’s going on?”

He was in a daze, “Wait, you can see my eye color? It doesn’t appear as a brownish color to you?” You were about to jump out your skin, “Hell no! Are you like a vampire or something?!”

Yoongi sat there for a few seconds, unsure how to phrase the next sentence, eyes still, “Werewolf, but I appreciate the guess.”

And with that, you fainted.

a/n: don’t ask for updates, but let me know how you felt about this fic!

[crystallized-iron]

Bite Me - Chapter One

Please read the tags on the Masterlist! Masterlist

***** ***** *****

It was a cold evening. Tiny flakes glistened in his gelled-back dark hair. His boots crunched in the piled snow. Every now and then he would glance around, making sure he wasn’t being followed by anyone his father knew, and was satisfied with the lack of familiar faces. If his father knew he had skipped designing something useful to instead go to a club, the man would kill him.

He came to his destination and took out his ID for the bouncer to see. The bouncer looked him over before handing it back and allowing him inside. Tony flashed him a grin and slipped the ID back into his pocket before going into the building.

There was still a chill around the door, but the temperature further in increased to something more comfortable.

Tony quickly found Rhodey and Pepper at the bar, simply enjoying each other’s company. Rhodey had been his first friend in college and his roommate. Tony ran over to him, making his presence known by wrapping his arms around Rhodey’s waist from behind and then resting his head on the other man’s shoulders. “Hey, honeybear.”

“You’re lucky I wasn’t holding my drink,” Rhodey told him, “or you’d be buying me a new one.”

“Oh, like I can’t afford a drink or two,” Tony said with a dramatic sigh before smiling at Pepper, Rhodey’s girlfriend since their sophomore year at college. It had taken Tony nearly five months to get Rhodey to finally ask the amazing redhead out in the beginning. “Hiya, Pep.”

Pepper returned his smile, getting her own hug from him before he took a seat beside Rhodey. “I see you were able to sneak out. What did you tell Howard this time?”

Tony rolled his eyes. “He thinks I’m still sulking in my room after the last argument.”

“Well, glad you could come out,” said Rhodey.

“As long as I don’t get caught.” His smile faltered for a moment before he had it up again, though now a little more forced. “So what’s new with you guys? He get you a ring yet, Pep?”

Pepper laughed. “I wish. No, he isn’t sure if he wants marriage yet.”

“Seriously?” Tony raised an eyebrow at Rhodey. “You better move fast, someone else might sweep her off her feet.”

Rhodey shook his head. “Weddings are expensive though.”

“If you need to have a fancy schmancy wedding, I can pay for it,” Tony assured him. “But you don’t need something that extravagant to show off your love. You guys can just head to the courthouse. Oh, and be sure to take me along, I don’t want to miss it.”

“He is right, you know,” Pepper spoke up with a smile to her boyfriend. “I wouldn’t mind a courthouse wedding.”

“That’s not even a wedding,” Rhodey argued. “Just the legal stuff.”

“So become mister and missus first, and have the wedding at a later date,” Tony suggested just as the bartender came up.

“You guys,” Rhodey sighed while Tony ordered a beer.

Pepper kissed his cheek. “Relax. I’ll be right back, boys,” she told them, hopping off the stool. “Stay out of trouble while I’m gone.”

“Whatever you say, Pep,” Tony called after her. He watched her head to the restroom and once she was out of sight, he spun on his stool and faced Rhodey, tilting his head with a raise of his brows. “Sooo…”

“So.”

“Did you get it?”

Rhodey gave him a single nod. “Not taking it out here, though. This really is not the place for it.”

Grinning, Tony leaned closer to him. “But you got it. That’s the first step. Excited for you, man.” He patted his buddy’s back. “Hope she says yes to spending the rest of her life with you.”

“Do you think there’s a chance she’ll say no?” Rhodey wondered, his voice lowered as unnecessary nerves began to creep up.

“There’s always a slight chance,” Tony answered him. “Bit of advice, don’t do one of those big engagement event things.”

“Wasn’t even considering that. That’s for guys with way too much time on their hands.”

“Right, and then the show was so big that the girl is pretty much forced into saying yes unless she wants to look like a bitch to the world.”

“Yeah. I will never do that to Pepper. You, though -”

“Am never getting married,” Tony stopped him.

“Never say never, Tones. I know that if you did meet someone, your old man wouldn’t approve, but -”

“Forget approval, I’d probably get fucking disowned and fired on the spot.”

Rhodey gave his friend a sympathetic look. “Sorry your dad’s so old school.”

“Yeah.” Tony glanced at the countertop, finally noticing the beer in front of him. “Did anyone touch this?”

“Only the guy behind the bar,” Rhodey assured. “I would have seen if anyone tried something.”

“Thanks.” He took the glass and held it to his lips as he turned to look the other patrons over. Everyone was having a good time, either dancing or just hanging out, but then his eyes fell onto one of the hottest men he had ever seen. All he could do was stare as his hand slowly lowered.

Rhodey followed his gaze, seeing the man leaning against the wall on the other side of the room. Dark long hair hung around the stranger’s shoulders, pale skin appearing almost sickly against black leather.

Rhodey didn’t think Tony had such a type, but then again he never really saw Tony date anyone before. “You gonna go introduce yourself? Looks like he’s alone.”

“Are you kidding? The guy’s probably taken.”

“Never know if you don’t try, Tones,” Rhodey reminded him.

“Using my own words against me.”

“Of course. Go on, go talk to ‘im.”

“It’s not that easy,” Tony muttered, turning his attention back to the counter.

“Tony,” Rhodey began but stopped as Pepper rejoined them. “Hey, can you help him?”

“What’s going on now?” she asked with a peek at Tony.

“Tony’s got his eyes on someone but won’t go and talk to him.”

“Again?” Turning to Tony, she said, “Want one of us to go with you?”

“No,” he replied, finally sipping at his beer.

“Want us to talk to him for you?”

“Definitely no.”

“Well, you’re never going to get anyone if you never talk to them.”

“And that’s fine,” Tony told them. “I don’t need anyone.”

“But you want to have someone someday, right? Better learn how to talk to attractive people, Tones,” Rhodey teased.

Tony rolled his eyes with a sigh before looking down at his hands. He did want a relationship, but it was better in the long run if he kept his distance rather than giving his father another reason to get pissed off at him. If he were more attracted to women, he might feel more at ease with the idea of dating. But the thing was, he was gay, and if Howard ever found out, Tony would most likely be disowned. Losing that tie to his father might not be so horrible given the chaotic nature of their relationship already, but he also risked losing his job at Stark Industries, and that was something he didn’t want to give up.

He was a top designer and the opportunity to see his designs coming to life was something he was not ready to lose, even if it meant never finding love. There was maybe a chance for romance in the far future if he outlived his father and maybe took over the company as soon as the dirt settled, but would it be too late then?

Tony had been so caught up in his head that he didn’t notice the man he had been staring at before had moved until he looked up. The attractive stranger was gone. It was for the best; Tony didn’t need that kind of temptation.

“Hey there,” a deep voice behind him purred, and Tony turned to see him standing so close with a smirk on his lips.

Rhodey and Pepper stared at the stranger while Tony tried to get his brain to work, because, Fuck this guy is hot! “Uh, hey.”

“I caught you watching me,” the man explained as he stepped further into Tony’s space. “Are you interested in something?”

Tony’s brain seemed to short circuit while he stared at the handsome stranger’s lips. He was just so gorgeous and, wait, did he ask Tony a question? He managed to get his brain to function enough to say, “I… in something?”

“Yes?” He placed a hand on Tony’s arm, making him go still, face coloring with warmth as his heart began to race. “Maybe if your friends allow it, we could find an empty room somewhere.”

Tony gulped. Was this happening? Was this really happening?

It took some incredible effort to look away from the beautiful stranger’s face so Tony could turn to his friends. Rhodey raised a brow at him while Pepper mouthed ‘go, go’ with a shoo of her hand.

After taking a breath, hoping to calm his heart but failing, Tony turned back to the man. “Um, sure, okay.”

With a grin, the man’s hand slid from Tony’s arm to his hand, so cold to the touch that Tony involuntarily shuddered at the contact. “Great.”

Tony was led away from the bar, through the sea of dancing bodies moving to the rhythmic beat. His heart pounded in his chest. Something good was happening for once. He had a moment to just be himself with someone. It wasn’t for anything longlasting, but it was still something, and the excitement of that alone sped his heart up even more.

The man found them an empty room easily enough and pulled Tony inside, claiming his lips right then in a hurried kiss. A moan escaped Tony as he shivered from the chill of the stranger’s flesh against his own heated skin.

“Your lips are cold,” he pointed out in a breathy murmur when his partner pulled away.

The man looked at him a moment before his lips turned up in a smile. “It’s cold outside.”

“But - mm…” Tony hummed as the stranger’s hand slipped under his coat and up his shirt, cool against hot.

“But what?” The man’s mouth went to Tony’s throat, planting gentle kisses along it.

Tony gasped when the kissing turned to sucking a bruise onto the side of his neck, his fingers grasping the man’s shirt. “W-when did you… get inside?”

“You really want to focus on temperature?” his partner asked, laughter in his voice.

“Sorry, but…” There were more cold kisses printed on his skin. “It’s ju-just that… that you could, you could be sick.” It became increasingly difficult to concentrate on important thoughts when those amazing lips were on him. “So...ugh, a-are you… are you sick?”

The man lifted his head so he could look into Tony’s eyes. “You’re that concerned about a stranger?”

Tony couldn’t respond at first, getting lost in the icy blue stare. “I…” He remembered to breathe, taking a couple breaths to try to calm himself down. “Yes, because… w-well, your skin, and you’re so… so cold.”

There was a pause as the man’s eyes seemed to glisten in the light and soon there was a more thoughtful smile on his lips. “What’s your name?”

“Mine?” A series of blurry thoughts flew through Tony’s mind before he could answer. “It’s… i-it’s Tony.”

“Tony… I like that. Short for Anthony, right?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“Well, Tony, I’m -” there was a short hesitation that he dissipated with a small shake of his head - “Bucky.”

“Bucky.”

“Yes.” He let go of Tony then, the sudden lack of physical contact making something ache inside of Tony as Bucky backed away toward the door. “And I’m not going to do it to you.”

“Wait, wait!” He ruined it. He asked too many questions and fucking ruined it! “D-don’t go, please! I’m sorry! I didn’t know I wasn’t -”

“Hey, no.” Bucky covered Tony’s mouth with his hand before he started rambling again. “Stop. You’re not in trouble.” He kissed Tony on the forehead after seeing the tears filling the other’s eyes. “Calm down. I’m not going to hurt you.”

Tony wanted to ask what he meant, trying to pull the hand away; when Bucky did, it was to give Tony another kiss, sliding his tongue inside which, like the rest of Bucky, felt so frigid. But Tony didn’t want to ask anymore, didn’t want to ruin it. He kissed him back in desperation, and when Bucky pulled away again, Tony tried to follow, but he was met with Bucky’s hand on his chest instead to keep distance between them. Looking up at Bucky’s face, Tony was shocked to see the pained expression.

What happened between them that would cause that reaction?

“I won’t hurt you,” Bucky said again.

“You’re not going to hurt me,” Tony whispered, trying to argue. “Please don’t leave, please!”

But Bucky took a step back, his hand like a barrier between them. “If we continue, I will hurt you.”

Tony disagreed, was about to voice it but suddenly the hand was gone. Bucky was gone out the door, and Tony was alone. The room felt too large, too empty, and his breath quickened. His time was up and all he got were a few desperate kisses. It wasn’t fair!

The tears began to trickle down as he fell to his knees. Why did he leave? What did I do? Hands covered his eyes as the tears kept coming. It hurt. It hurt so much. What did I do?

Why did it hit him so hard?

He gave himself time to calm down, wiping the tear tracks on his cheeks, and hoping there would be no more before he went back out to his friends. After finding them in the same spot, he made a quick glance around the room - no sign of Bucky. It was as though he simply disappeared.

With a sigh, he walked back to Rhodey and Pepper. She noticed him first, and he must have looked crushed because she quickly pulled him into a hug.

“Tones, what happened?” Rhodey asked.

“Uh, didn’t , d-didn’t work out,” Tony replied, cursing his shaky voice.

“Why not?” Pepper asked, caressing his head with her fingers. “We thought -”

“I-I talked too much, I guess.”

Rhodey put his arms around them, the two of them keeping Tony enveloped in a loving embrace. “Sorry, man.”

“It’s fine… It’s fine… I’ll just forget about him. Not try again.”

“Tony, it’s okay,” Pepper tried to tell him. “That guy doesn’t know what he’s missing, just walking out on you like that.”

“Please just stop.”

Pepper held onto him even when Rhodey let go, the two sharing a concerned look for their friend.

It was rare for Tony to get so close to a glimpse of what happiness could be like in his life, but now the reality was back in full force and he hated it.

===== ===== =====

Next Chapter

[thisdiscontentedwinter]

Well, This is Awkward

This is my fic for @swlfangirl who bid on me in the @fandomcares auction. I love this prompt, and I will be writing a longfic based on the idea at some time! In the meantime, please enjoy the short, cracky version! 

@swlfangirl asked for Laura building her pack by using Stiles as a sperm donor because he smelled right... and bonus points if I could make Derek feel awkward around her when she smells like his mate! I think I win the bonus point, lol! 

Derek is stumbling into the bathroom one morning, bladder full and brain still asleep, when it happens. Laura is already there, leaning over the basin and peering into the mirror, inspecting a spot on her chin while attempting to brush her teeth at the same time.

“Good morning, grumpy head,” she says around her toothbrush, which has been her standard greeting for him since childhood.

Derek grunts at her, and wonders if she’ll leave if he starts pissing.

And then he catches a lungful of her scent, and it hits him somewhere visceral—sweet, ripe, home, need, touch, mate—and what the fuck is that about? Laura is his sister, and Derek’s not the creep of the family. That’s Peter’s job.

Jesus. Has it really been so long since he got laid that he’s getting turned on by his sister?

He turns and flees.

“Der?” Laura yells out after him. “Derek? What crawled up your ass and died?”

Derek locks himself in his bedroom and waits until she goes to work before coming out again.

He might get desperate enough to piss out the fire escape as well, but he’s taking that secret to his grave.

*** 

Ever since returning to Beacon Hills a few months ago, Laura and Derek have lived in a loft on Lincoln Street. It’s semi-converted, which Derek thinks means the developer ran out of money before he finished turning the place from a total shithole into something actually habitable. The loft is caught somewhere in the middle. It has running water and heat, but also holes in the walls. The rent is cheap though.

Derek works as a bouncer at some dive bar downtown. Peter calls it playing to his strengths; he gets to wear his leather jacket and get paid for glowering. The hours he keeps are as bad as Laura’s. They’ve both become more or less nocturnal, which suits Derek. He goes to work when it’s dark and comes home when it’s dawn, and rarely says more than a few words to anyone during his shift. That suits him too. What the fuck has Derek got to talk to anyone about anyway?

The fact he lost almost his entire family in the fire? The fact he and Laura spent close to the last decade on the run from their past before Laura dragged them back here? The fact that he has so little contact with the outside world that his sister’s scent gave him an erection?

Yeah, no.

No talking about that.

Ever.

But it probably is a sign he should make an attempt to extend his social circle a little, right? Laura’s been talking about expanding the pack for a while now, and yes, Derek would very much like some non-blood relatives to hang with. As long as he doesn’t have to make small talk. Derek is not good at small talk. Or talk of any size, actually.

Pack is good though.

Being uncomfortable around new packmates is a much healthier option than wanting to have sex with his own sister, right?

God yes. 

***

Peter turns up one Sunday morning with a bag full of bagels and a smirk.

“Good morning, nephew,” he says.

Derek grunts.

Peter sweeps inside. “Eloquent, as always.”

“What the hell are you doing here?” Derek asks. “I thought you didn’t get out of bed before noon.”

“Your sister called a pack meeting,” Peter says. “Didn’t she tell you?” He looks Derek up and down. “Oh, well, why would she? Where else would you be?”

It’s a fair point, but Derek glowers anyway. “What about?” he asks.

“Our newest pack member, I would imagine,” Peter says. He sits down on the couch and puts his feet up on the coffee table.

Their what now? Has Laura already approached someone? Has she already bitten someone? Laura can be spontaneous, but surely she wouldn’t bring anyone into the pack without running it by him first? 

Derek only has a moment to grapple with his confusion before Laura appears. She’s wearing an old t-shirt and Hello Kitty pajama pants. She sits on the couch beside Peter and attacks a bagel.

Derek sits down warily on the end of the coffee table, and inhales carefully. There’s still a hint of something about Laura’s scent, but he doesn’t have the same visceral reaction he did that day in the bathroom. Thank fuck. 

“Did you bring the money?” she asks Peter around a mouthful, spraying crumbs down her shirt.

“All six hundred dollars.” Peter pats his jacket pocket. “Which is appallingly cheap, I must say, and I honestly don’t know which one of you it reflects more badly on.”

“I already gave him two hundred upfront,” Laura says. “So excuse you, but it’s eight hundred total, not six hundred.”

“You bought semen, Laura,” Peter says, rolling his eyes, “not a ’98 Nissan that needs a new transmission.”

What?

What?

Derek’s brain shorts out.

“You bought what?” he manages at last.

“Semen,” Laura says. “Two hundred up front, and six hundred if it took.” She shrugs. “It took.”

Holy shit… Their newest pack member. Holy shit.

“Is this why your scent is—” Derek stops himself before he says something incriminating. Like ‘alluring’. “Different?”

“I guess so,” Laura says matter-of-factly, like she hasn’t just dropped a massive fucking bombshell. “There are more bagels, right?”

Peter tosses the bag at her.

Derek is still struggling. “When you said you wanted to expand the pack, I didn’t think you meant that.”

Laura tears into another bagel. “This wasn’t exactly my first plan either, but this guy… there’s just something about his scent that fitted, you know? He smelled right.”

Derek really doesn’t want to talk about scents at the moment, actually. He rubs his forehead. “Jesus, Laura. Seriously?”

“It’s no strings, Der,” Laura says, her voice softening. She sets the bagels on the table. “He’s not going to be a problem. He’s a college kid, and he needed the money. We drew up a contract. He has no parental rights, and I can’t go after him for child support later.”

“You drew up a contract?” Derek asks. “You did?”

Because that does not sound like the Laura he knows.

“A contract is a contract, even if it’s written on the back of a napkin,” Laura informs him.

“Oh, Jesus.” Derek drags his fingers through his hair. “Laura, I can’t believe—”

There’s a knock on the door, and Laura leaps up to answer it.

Derek isn’t looking when the door rolls open, but that smell hits him again. It’s stronger this time. It’s more, and Derek wants. It’s home, and safety, and the future, and warmth, and sex, and everything, and Derek’s wolf pushes to the fore. His eyes are shining blue when he turns his head sharply, and he can feel his beta shift coming over him. 

“Holy shit!” the guy says. He’s young, pale, with gorgeous dark eyes and mole-spotted skin. “What the hell is that?”

“Derek!” Laura exclaims.

Derek sucks in another lungful of that wonderful scent. “Laura,” he growls. “Your baby daddy is my mate!”

Laura’s jaw drops. “Oh fuck.”

“What?” the guy asks. “What the hell is going on? What happened to his face? Why are there… fangs and grr? Seriously, what is going on?”

Laura pats the kid on the shoulder, and holds Derek’s gaze. “Stiles, this is my brother Derek. Derek, Stiles. Um… well, this is awkward.”

“Oh, no,” Stiles says. “I know awkward, trust me. This isn’t awkward. This is the Twilight Zone.” But he makes no move to run. “Actually, it’s probably more straight up Twilight, isn’t it? Oh. Am I Bella? I don’t want to be Bella.”

Derek shifts back. “What?”

“What?” Stiles echoes, eyes round.

“Oh fuck,” Laura says again. “Oh fuck.”

Because where the fuck do they even start?

On the couch, Peter collapses with laughter. “I am so glad I got out of bed for this now!”

“Oh,” Stiles says, and inches further forward into the loft. “Are those bagels? Because I haven’t eaten yet.”

He’s not screaming and running. Why is he not screaming and running? Derek wonders if his mate is braver than hell, or just an idiot. Knowing Derek’s luck, it’s the second one.

And that’s fine.

Derek will take it.

“Um,” he says, “we also have muffins in the kitchen.”

“Ooh!” Stiles’s eyes light up. “Muffins! I love muffins!” 

And yeah, Derek thinks as he gets up to fetch them, this is a total clusterfuck, and Stiles is probably an idiot, but he’s Derek’s idiot, and he’s Laura’s baby daddy, and he’s not screaming and running, and that’s a good sign, right?

Who knows, but this clusterfuck might even work out in the end.

[workinggirlelladp]

#GettingPermission!

Ella: Murhder left after we finished in my room, he was off to the audience house to meet up with our King, Wrath his brother.  Was I dreaming Murhder was finally mine. We sat and I listened to his story I wasn’t afraid of him anymore.  I felt that we was getting closer together and it wouldn’t be long until I was out of that dump. Hoping that the visit to Wrath was what Murhder needed.  He needed to see his brothers and hopefully let him back into the brotherhood.

Two of the new girls were waiting outside the next room, because I was going to train them the way I worked and how to keep the customers happy. I knew that they would be waiting but they had to wait a little longer. I grabbed a drink at the bar, telling the bartender to keep the drinks coming this was going to take a while. We had to be careful I haven’t told my customer’s that I am no longer available to them. I went back to the room to start the training.

Murh:

Walking out of Zero Sum, the time had come that I was going to see Wrath and if I was still welcomed by the Brothers. A lot had happened in the twenty years, for a starters the female, Xhex, I had pursued wasn't what she said she was. She was a fucking symphath and after her returning to her kind, her family had fun fucking with my mind. That was when the voices had started “Yeah we love you too fucker” “And now we're stuck with your ugly ass” The voices were getting louder and more persistent.

Dematerialising over to the wealthier part of Caldwell I took form outside a house, this had been Darius's house. The memories came flooding back of the times I had here with D, he was one of my closest friends and I hoped to see him again, but then I'd heard he had been killed from a car bomb that the lessers had secured to his BMW. This was one death I would avhenge by myself. Walking up to the front door I placed my hand on the handle, opening the door I went inside.

A young female was at a desk just by the door, behind her was a luxurious waiting room but tonight no one was there. It was like I was expected “May I help you?” The young female spoke “Yes. I'm here to see Wrath” “I'll go and let him know you're here” She went over to a set of double doors and was about to open them when I remembered she hadn't asked for my name “I'm Murhder, son of Murhder” “Yes I know who you are”

Ella: I followed the two new girls into the room next to mine, the pole was on the other side of the room. It was a little different to mine it seemed smaller. “When the customer comes in, make sure he sits in the chair.  Walk over to the pole, wrap your leg around it as if your dancing to the beat of the music. Slide yourself up and down on it, lick your lips as if you are giving the customer pleasure. Then dance some more the way I used to it was reach the top, slide yourself around and gently slide down it, but make it look like you are always looking at him, you could also have one hand on the pole while you move your body up and down. Always make sure you are aware what is happening around you, they are not allowed to touch unless they pay more money, but that is up to you alone. When you finish with the pole go over to the chair and dance in front of them, you can sit on their lap and move a little, or you can just walk around them, your hands touching them. Just be careful though some can take advantage of that. Any problems I am only next door. Ready for your first customer?” I open the door inviting the next customer in. Walking over to the bar to grab a drink.

Murh:

The female emerged from the room that seemed like an eternity “You can go in now” Walking passed the female into the room. At the far end there was an open fire, two chairs that were on the right and left hand side of the fire. A table on the right hand side of the room where a male, I presumed was a lawyer sat. But the thing that caught my attention was Wrath. He stood in the middle of the room with a dog by his side. He still wore those wraparounds but his sight must of gone hence the dog beside him.

“About time you fucking showed up here. I heard you was back” Wrath’s voice boomed around the room, he always had this air of authority. “What brings you here Murhder?” My attention was brought to something rustling behind me. Turning around I saw the whole Brotherhood there. Rhage with his ridiculous good looks, Z who was still an evil bastard, Phury with his outrageous hair, V with his hard stare and Tohr the would be leader with his military hairstyle. There were two males I had never seen before, new Brothers I guess. “I asked what you are doing here?”

Turning back facing Wrath “I was bringing back this” Reaching to my back pocket of my leathers I brought out the papers for my inheritance. All the Brothers cocked their guns “Easy fellas I'm not going to do anything” Extending my arm towards Wrath “I wasn't going to sign those as I have already the B & B. But all that has changed now I've met a female. I want her to have the house” There was sucking of breaths in through teeths behind me. “Who is the lucky or shall we say the unlucky female?” “You don't know her” Wrath took the papers and handed them to Mr Lawyer at the desk.

Ella: I finished my drink and headed over to the private rooms to see how the new girls were getting on, I looked through the door it was going okay, so I decided to go to my room.  While I waited for Murhder to return that is when I noticed my door was open, he wouldn’t tell me he was here without letting me know, I walked in and that is when I noticed one of my customers waiting in the chair.  “Can I ask why you are in my room? What do you want?” He spoke “I have come to see you and get my lapdance and other things.” “I am sorry to disappoint  you, but I no longer do this anymore, I was going to tell you. Did you not read the notice on the door? I still work here but I have other duties that I do now. Since I have met someone, so i think you better leave now, or do I have to get security to escort you out of my room?” He growled under his breath, getting angry and he started shouting at me. “Don’t shout at me, you are not allowed here, get the fuck out of my room asshole.” The next thing that happened took me by surprise, he came at me and his fist came towards my face, I didn’t move in time, he hit me straight in the eye, knocked me to me feet. “Wtf, you seriously did not just do that. I hate to be you when my male gets here. You stupid dickhead” I got up to my feet pressed my buzzer, I took him by surprise to, by kicking him where it hurts, his manhood. “Take that as a lesson you stupid ass of a male” Security came in take him to a room out the back tie him to a chair. “Leave him there until I decide what should happen to him.” One of the security team asked if I was okay.  I nodded “just need a ice pack, thanks” My eye was hurting like hell. I didn’t even want to think what Murhder would do, should I text him or wait till he gets here. I decided to wait and look after my bruised eye.

Murh:

“There is a condition to what you request” I fucking knew it “What did you expect asshole?” The voices were right I shouldn't of expected what I was asking for nothing “What's the condition?” “There are whispers about a biological facility that has a captive vampire. You are to infiltrate this facility and bring back the captive vampire. And it's the same company that held Xhex” I remember the facility, Xhex had set it on fire after she killed the scientists. I still don't know why but I took the wrap for that and that is how I ended up being kicked out of the Brotherhood.

Knowing that this company had another vampire at their disposal made my blood boil “He's going to do it” “He isn't a coward like we thought he was” The fucking voices can go and fuck themselves “What's it going to be Murhder” “I'll do it but let me tell my female what's happening” “Agreed, she can stay in the house you've inherited but I needed your word first” “You sly bastard” I was turning around when Wrath stopped me “If you go all crazy like the last time you'll give me no choice but to banish your ass from Caldwell for good” Barely nodding my head “I understand” “Did I also mention that Xhex will be going with you too” Turning back around “You're fucking kidding me?” “Do I look like I'm joking here Murhder?” No Wrath didn't “No” “So be it. You will meet Xhex here in two nights”

Heading out of D's house I dematerialised into the back alley of Zero Sum, heading up to the front entrance and entered. Making my way through the crowds of drunk, drugged and sexed up humans and vampires I made my way to the VIP section. Being let in I made my way straight to Ella but she wasn't in her room. Where the fuck was she?

Ella:  I was in the locker room seeing to my eye, it was badly bruised. Looking in the mirror trying to make it look better than it already was. Murhder is going to go nuts what that asshole did to me. Murhder would probably kill him for touching me. Maybe we should get rid of him now before he returns. There was a lot of noise going on outside, I needed to see what was going on, I peeped out and that was when I see Murhder, fuck what am I going to say to him without him going crazy. It was now or never, I walked out of the room, calling him. “I am here Murhder, please don’t go mad but one of my customers punched me. Before you take off and go and find him he is tied up in one of the rooms.  I didn’t know what to do with him. We have to agree not to kill him, for now. We need answers to why he punched me. After he did that I kicked him in his manhood, he couldn’t stand for a while, Murhder.”

Murh:

Once Ella had told me that a customer had hit her I saw red. I looked at her face, the bruising was already coming out “Fuck that to killing the bastard. You wait here” Walking over to the bouncer he showed me where the asshole was being held. Closing the door behind me, locking it with my mind. I crouched down next to the male. “What did you want with the female?” All he did was laugh.

Punching the asshole repeatedly, my knuckles ended up being bloody. “Let's try this again. What do you want with the female?” “I thought she was still doing lap dancing, I didn't see the notice that she wasn't. When she told me I lost it” Straightening his clothes I patted his cheek “Next time asshole read the notice” I took his right hand and I began to break his fingers one by one, his screams were like music to my ears.

Walking out of the room I headed straight over to Ella “He won't be bothering you again beautiful and don't worry he's still breathing. Might not be able to make a fist for a few weeks” Ella looked at me puzzled “He's breathing that's all you need to know” Taking Ella's hand I take her to her room “You can give me that lapdance you promised me”

#GettingPermission

#DarkParables

[kilyra]

Part of This

Shades Alvarez (Luke Cage) One-Shot from prompt list

A/N: I received a request from  @dysfunction-ality from the List B: Angst/fluff Prompt List , 70 - “After everything we’ve been through, you still don’t think that I love you?” and 99 - “I fell in love with you, not them.” This ended up being a bit longer as the reader insert is backed into a corner and needs to confront Hernan about his “help” with the financial sponsor she lined up for one of the charities she works with. 

I used the same reader insert as “He’s Dead” (like this is definitely a follow up story to that one), “No Tip Required” and “Damn Him”. Although really, all my Shades stories could easily be the same reader-insert :)

Warning: F-bomb! Also Season 2 spoilers with my own ideas of what happened beyond S2. So, not a spoiler but spring-boarding off one haha

EDIT: The follow up to this is posted now: “Still Won’t Answer”

Standing next to the rail on the second floor of Harlem's Paradise, the woman stared up at Shades as she ran her hand down his tie, lightly tugging it between her fingers. His smile was wide as he turned his head but kept his eyes on her. Leaning up, she whispered in his ear and he moved back slightly but he continued to smile. Her hand was still on his tie.

A man came out of the doorway, catching their attention. Both of them nodded. Shades took the woman's hand and bowed his head down almost low enough to kiss it. She pursed her lips together but it didn't stop the slow smile that took over. Nodding again, she left with the man in the doorway, while others came up to flank her.

You were fuming, but you weren't sure if you wanted to scream or throw up.

After they were gone, he turned to look over the dance floor. In a sea of people, he still zeroed in on you. Taking off his shades, he looked again and all humour dropped from his face. In quick, angry gestures, he pointed your way before he disappeared from view.

Within seconds, someone grabbed your elbow. It was one of the bouncers. “You need to come with me.”

He didn't give you a chance to argue – not that you would have. You had seen enough.

Depositing you in a room off to the side, he left without speaking again, closing the door on his way out.

“Y/n. What the hell are you doing here?” Hernan was already talking as he came into the room from the other side. Firmly closing the door behind him, he adjusted the cuffs of his suit jacket, fixing what became slightly dishevelled as he rushed down from the balcony.

“Well I wanted to talk to you, but it looks like I interrupted something instead.”

Pulling off his shades, he set them on a small table near the door. “What, that? Look, I don't know what you think you saw but-”

“What I saw was you getting real cozy with some woman up there. Is that what you do at work all night? Is that why you don't ever want me stopping by?”

“Some woman?” Hernan paused, his gaze turned up towards the ceiling. Composing himself, he pressed his fingers against his eyes before he rubbed them down his face.

“You think I'm just goin-”

Snapping his attention back on you, he swiftly crossed the room, bringing his face within inches of yours. His eyes were wide, almost wild. “That wasn't just some woman and yeah, she's definitely a part of why I don't want you stopping by. Because she's a Carbone, Y/n. She's the Carbone.”

That name meant nothing. You had no idea he was referring to one of the most powerful crime families in all of New York. “I don't...what does that mean?”

Sighing through his nose, Hernan blinked and took a step back. “Doesn't matter.”

“So...what? She's a Carbone so that makes it ok to fondle your tie and blatantly eye-fuck you in the middle of the club?”

His eyebrows shot up as he spread his hands apart. “Yeah, it does. That and the fact that we have to keep the peace here, so sometimes you just have to play along.”

“Really? And how often do you just have to play along?”

Letting out a desperate laugh, Hernan brought his hands together in front of his chest as though he were praying to you. “Please, Y/n. People come here and they want to have fun. The easiest way to maintain order is to keep people happy. It doesn't go anywhere, never any further than what you just saw yourself. But we don't make it into a thing – we keep it light, they move on. Peace kept. And then I come home to you.”

“It's not home. It's my place.” He hadn't actually moved in and you blurted that fact, not sure exactly why you needed to rub that in his face.

His jaw tensed and his lips drew together in a tight line. Slowly, his eyebrows furrowed together in a mixture of defeat and frustration. It's not an expression you saw often – he was the man who managed everyone.

“Y/n. There are a lot of moving parts here and I don't just mean club-goers. We've got people, people important to Harlem, that come here because this is neutral ground. My job is to protect Cage and to keep it peaceful and safe. Frankly, if everyone is having a good time and not trying to kill each other, I don't care how many people are being flirty. I fell in love with you, not them.”

Loudly, you snorted. “Love?”

Jerking his head back, you may as well have slapped him. His lips curled as he narrowed his eyes at you. “After everything we’ve been through, you still don’t think that I love you?”

“Is that what you call it?”

His mouth dropped open, but you pushed on. This was why you came after all.

“Is that what you call it when you go after my sponsors?”

“What? What are you talking about?”

You had come to Harlem's Paradise with fire in your gut already. There were so many times with Hernan that you didn't want to know the truth – you'd rather turn a blind eye because everything was going so well, with him, with your job, with all of it. You suspected some things weren't right and it gnawed at you. As long as things kept going your way, you ignored that gnawing feeling but you couldn't anymore.

“Don't try to bullshit me, Hernan. Lockwood, one of the most upstanding sponsors I've dealt with, just contacted me to assure me he can still pay the sponsorship he agreed to."

He stayed quiet, his expression growing stony.

“Turns out he lost a great deal at some poker game or something insane this weekend. He took a true hit,  I mean his marriage is on the rocks now and things really seem to be falling apart. And yet he calls me to assure me he can still pay up. Tell me, Hernan, why in the fuck would I even remotely be on his mind at a time like this, huh??”

“How the hell should I know?” There was no passion in his response.

“Lockwood is a good man. And frankly, if he couldn't follow through with his sponsorship commitments, I would understand – so would the charity I've got him lined up with. They weren't expecting any private donations; it was a bonus to begin with."

“Great,” he said, shrugging and averting his gaze.

You were practically vibrating at this act of feigning ignorance.

“So again, I ask, why the fuck was he calling me to explain, hell no beg, beg me to understand?”

“I don't know.”

You snapped. The fire in your gut roared and you felt it in every fibre. “The hell you don't, Hernan!”

The anger flew down your arm, into your fingertips. Grabbing a glass from the shelf behind you, you threw it his direction. Swiftly he dodged it, and it shattered on the table behind him. His nostrils flared, but he didn't retaliate, so you kept yelling.

“Upton, I can understand. He was a sick, dangerous asshole who deserved everything he got, and getting money from him was probably the only good thing that sick fuck ever did in his whole life. But this? Going after Lockwood? What the fuck, Hernan?”

You flung another glass, but this time he caught it and carefully placed it on the table. It lightly crunched the shattered glass

“So what, have I been sending my goons after these people like I'm some sort of mobster??”

Hernan tilted his head at you after looking up from the glass. “Goons? What are you, in the thirties now?”

Was he seriously trying to crack a joke there? There was no hint of a smile on his face, so if he was trying to break the tension...

No. He was trying to distract you. Nice try.

“Hernan. What did you do?” An eerie calm fell over you, bolstered by the knowledge that he just failed to deter you.

For a moment, he kept his gaze to the side. The room grew so quiet that all you could hear was the rushing in your ears – even the sound from the performance on stage was a distant, muffled background noise. It seemed to take effort to look you in the eyes, and his throat worked as he swallowed several times.

“If I say anything about it, you become an accessory.”

Your heart dropped. Your stomach dropped.

Stepping forward, he grabbed your arm, rubbing his thumb along the sleeve of your shirt. “Baby, I'm sorry. Most of the private people you turned to for donations were not good people. They might not be like the Carbones, but...they're the sort of people that make up some of the moving parts here. Sometimes they need convincing to do the right thing and give back to their community.”

If you had anything in your system, you might have actually thrown it up on the spot. His grip became firmer as he was half held you up.

“No one, aside from Upton, has gotten hurt. And Lockwood is completely off the hook – if he decides to continue with the sponsorship, it's from his own conscience.”

Weakly, you pushed his hand away. Everything was spinning, but you didn't want his help.

“Y/n, think of all the good you've done. All of this has gone towards-”

“Stop,” you said, finally.

The muscles along his chin tensed as he clenched his jaw. Staring at you, his dark eyes were full of concern. But for what, exactly, you weren't sure anymore.

“Just stop," you said more firmly. Taking a step back, you held one hand out toward him, gesturing for him to stay away. "I'm done."

“Done? With...”

The fire in your stomach had burnt out. You were burnt out. Exhaustion drained away everything and all you wanted to do curl up and drift away.

“With this. With us...with you.”

Again, Hernan was quiet as he swallowed back whatever he was first trying to spit out. Finally, he wiped a hand across his eyes and shook his head. “No.”

The rushing in your ear had quieted, but you couldn't trust you just heard that. “No?”

Taking in a deep breath of air, he nodded. “That's right, no. We're not done. This is a lot to take in, I get that. So you're going to go home and take some time to digest it. And we're going to talk about this later.”

“The hell we are, Hernan.”

Ignoring you, he knocked sharply on the door you came through. “You're part of this now, Y/n.”

Even through your exhaustion, you felt your heart starting to constrict. Fear? Fear of him or the truth?

Within seconds, the same bouncer from before poked his head in. “Shades?”

“Ms L/n needs to go home now. Make sure she gets there safely.”

Nodding, he grabbed your upper arm and started moving you towards the door. Everything felt like a dream. You wanted to fight from his grip and tell Hernan you were through with him, and you'd go to the police if that's what it took for him to stay away. But instead you just numbly let yourself be led away.

He was right.