#so uh you remember that chapter i mentioned i was struggling to finish a couple asks ago?

[ollieofthebeholder]

And If Thou Wilt, Forget: a TMA Fanfic

Read from the beginning on Tumblr || AO3 || My Website

Chapter 17: So wilt thou toil in patience, and abide

It was exactly a month after the new staff came down to the Archives that Tim’s luck ran dry.

He’d managed to get into a rhythm—an awkward, almost syncopated rhythm, but at least a consistent one—once he’d figured out the others’ patterns. Sasha was punctual to the extreme, walking into the Archives with a cup of coffee in hand in the mornings in exactly the right time to get her computer fired up to start working at eight and walking out the door precisely at five; she spent the mornings fighting with the computer and the afternoons investigating statements and took her lunch at noon, neatly bisecting her day into four-hour chunks. Jon was prone to coming in early and staying late, but never more than half an hour in either direction—so far, anyway—and he disliked taking the Tube in the dark if he could help it. Martin tended to be early because he was so terrified of being late, which at least meant that Tim had an excuse for not seeing him on the Tube in the mornings; he’d also tended to stay late because he was struggling to finish all of his work before the end of the day, at least until Tim managed to convince Jon to let him type up the statements, which was easy enough that he could finish more or less before Jon was ready to go. Tim cheerfully spent his day doing research and filing as required and left at the same time as Martin to go home, have dinner with Gerry, and take the dog for his evening run; a couple of times a week, he would come back under the cover of deep darkness and try to pull the important files.

He was prepared to swear there’d been somebody else there one night, but when he’d gone to investigate the sound, he’d found nothing and no one. Either he’d been imagining it, or it had been the alleged ghost…or Gertrude was sneaking in without anyone knowing, somehow. Maybe she had an extra set of keys. Tim had to have faith that she had her reasons for not telling him she was there.

In a way, he was kind of enjoying investigating the patently false statements. Jon had announced the creation of what he termed the “Discredited Section”—an area of shelves dedicated to those statements that were obviously and provably false, as difficult as it was to prove a negative—which he “expected to get a good deal of use out of,” as he’d put it disdainfully. Since Tim was the only one of the three who didn’t really have another project…as far as Jon knew, anyway��he was primarily the one to pull files from the shelves and distribute them, and he’d been able to keep any of the real ones from the others.

So far.

Getting through the stack he’d pulled on Monday had been a bit easier than he’d expected; he only had one left that was still open, and he was reasonably sure he’d be able to finish it up by the end of the day. Jon had been interested in this one because it mentioned Jurgen Leitner—he at least had enough knowledge to recognize that name, which was something Tim wanted to poke at when he got the chance—but Leitner actually had little to nothing to do with the meat of it. There was an author involved, though, one whose name Tim vaguely remembered, so he’d reached out to his former boss and received an enthusiastic request-slash-demand for a lunchtime meeting. With that in mind, he’d driven in, stopping to pick up Martin on the way. They’d developed a pretty good friendship in the last couple of weeks, and so far, Martin hadn’t noticed that he’d told Tim far more about himself than Tim had let him know in return.

“How are you doing with those files?” Tim asked Martin as they headed for the side door. It was honestly a crapshoot whether or not Jon remembered to unlock it when he came in. “Anything you need help with?”

“No, I, uh—actually, I’m just about done.” Martin looked pleased and proud of himself. “I’m expecting an email, o-or maybe a phone call, from Tansy Colvin’s cousin to confirm a couple things and then I’ll know for sure if it’s got a paranormal explanation or not, but that’s the only one I have left.”

Tim tested the knob. Locked. “You finished the Bratticks file already?” he asked casually to distract Martin as he palmed the key and unlocked the door, trying to make it look like it had been open the whole time.

“Wasn’t really anything to do with that one,” Martin confessed, surprising Tim. “Once I verified that there’s not actually a Charles Bratticks—the name didn’t come up anywhere and the contact details were made up—I knew it was fake.”

“Jon’s not going to let you get off that easy,” Tim warned him. “You know how he gets.” He did a deliberately poor imitation of Jon’s voice. “‘While the statement may be incoherent and fantastical, we must do our due diligence. You can’t just assume because it’s too hard to look.’”

“Tim, shh, he’ll hear you,” Martin said with a nervous giggle, darting a glance towards the front of the Archives. “It’s—i-it’s a poem. ‘A Positive Reminder.’ I recognized it right off, and, you know, the date was too recent to have been what inspired the poem, so—”

He broke off with a startled oof as he collided with Jon, who had just unexpectedly emerged from behind a shelf with his nose buried in a file. The stack of files he’d been carrying slipped from his arm and landed on the floor, scattering every which way, some of the pages slipping out of the folders as they did so.

“Martin!” Jon snapped, sounding even more annoyed than usual. “Can’t you watch where you’re going?”

“Sorry, sorry!” Martin said quickly. “Here, let me—”

He bent to help pick up the papers just as Jon did, and their heads collided with a thunk that made even Tim wince. They both reeled back with a yelp and a curse respectively.

Tim saw Jon swelling up to yell at Martin further and stepped in, squatting down rather than bending and reaching for the files. “Here, let me help you pick these up…are these ready to go back on the shelves? I can take care of that for you. I’m done everything but the Braisewell file, and I’m talking to someone at lunch to get the last of that.”

“No, these are new,” Jon said, surprising Tim once more. “You’re not the only one who’s nearly completed. Sasha closed out her files yesterday, and Martin only has one left—” He shot Martin a glare, making him flinch. “—allegedly, so I went to get the next stack. No sense in everything coming to a standstill just because I’m recording. We’ll never get through all this otherwise.”

“Ah. Well, I’m not doing much this morning, so—” Tim began.

“I’m going to skim over them and sort them into at least broad categories. Perhaps if they’re at least loosely connected, or taking place in the same areas, we can get multiple sets of answers at once that way.”

Fuck. Tim kept his easygoing grin in place, even as he scrambled for a solution. “I’m happy to do that for you, too. You know, save you time.”

Jon stopped and gave Tim a look that was somewhere between puzzled and suspicious. Tim shrugged and blinked innocently. “You shouldn’t have to do the work for us, you know. Just supervise.”

At that, Jon softened, at least a little. “Thank you, Tim, but I think this qualifies as ‘supervising.’” He took the folder out of Tim’s hand and added, “If you’re looking for something to do this morning, try and get these damned papers to stay together. They get everywhere and it’s hard to keep them straight.”

“Only so much I can do about that,” Tim said apologetically. Martin had made himself scarce, probably to make tea before the workday really got underway, so Tim lowered his voice and took the opportunity to be helpful. “You’re not supposed to use metal fasteners when you’re archiving stuff. It rusts, you know? Not great for long-term storage.”

“That’s why we’re recording,” Jon replied. “And typing them up.”

“Both of which depend on the technology to read those files. Mister Megabytes won’t last forever, and eventually we’re not going to be able to read the floppy discs. And despite what Sasha seems to think, ‘digital’ and ‘permanent’ are hardly synonymous,” Tim pointed out. Jon grunted. “Not everything is going to be on a computer. Even now.”

“Well, you may be right,” Jon said grudgingly. “The older some of these cases are, the less likely it is we’ll be able to find the research on them through the computer, I suppose.” He drummed his fingers against the file at the bottom of the stack. “This one’s nearly twenty years old, and from what I was reading, the man was on drugs. Even if there was any evidence for it, I can’t imagine we’ll be able to find much information on a man living alone with a ‘singing coffin’ in his flat.”

Tim’s blood ran cold, and he couldn’t have said why. “Wait, what?”

Jon dislodged the file and opened it. “Statement of a Mr. Joshua Gillespie, regarding a coffin he apparently had in his house for around two years. I haven’t read it in detail, but frankly, from what I saw, it’s ridiculous. Almost ludicrous. If it wasn’t in Bournemouth, I doubt I would have given it a second glance.” He snorted. “At least my hometown isn’t entirely devoid of paranormal activity.”

Tim fidgeted a little bit with his ring, then made himself stop so Jon wouldn’t notice. It was tempting to let him believe that, to just agree that it was bullshit and let it go…but something told him Jon wouldn’t actually leave it at that. He’d investigate it himself, despite his assertion that it was fake and impossible to research—or worse, he’d give it to Martin. Jon might, key word was might, leave it alone after a cursory investigation and an inability to prove it. Martin, longing for approval, afraid of being caught out as a fraud, and desperate to prove himself, definitely wouldn’t. Tim couldn’t have said how he knew, with a certainty he could feel in his bones, that this was a genuine case, but he did.

And if he let any of the others investigate it, he’d never forgive himself if they got hurt. Or worse.

“Let me do some digging,” he said, reaching out to tug the file out of Jon’s hand and apparently catching him off-guard enough that he didn’t resist. “I’ve got some tricks Gertrude taught me—and she’s introduced me to a few people, so they’ll talk to me if they won’t talk to anyone else. Suspicious, you know? I can’t make any promises about what I’ll find, but I’ll do what I can.”

Jon hesitated for no more than a second before nodding. “Thank you, Tim. I’ll sort the rest of these before I start recording the statements we already have.”

Tim nodded, and smiled, and tried not to show that he was agitated. “Where’d you find all these, anyway?”

“That back corner. I must have straightened it up twelve times in the last three weeks, but it keeps getting…disarranged.” Jon scowled disapprovingly in the direction of the shelves. “I was going to work our way from the front to the back so at least the shelves would be more presentable and organized the closer to the front we were, but in the first place, it’s going to be years before we back there at this rate, and in the second place it was going to drive me mad.”

“The shelves must be uneven back there.” Fuck, fuck, FUCK. Tim had no one to blame for this but himself. He knew exactly which corner Jon was talking about, because he’d taken to stowing any files that felt real but that he hadn’t had time to go through to see if they were useful back there, specifically because he knew Jon was working front to back. He was careful to keep it neat but not suspiciously so…so either the shelves actually were uneven and things were sliding around, or he had heard somebody moving around back there and they’d been rummaging through the real statements.

Which might not be a bad thing. Maybe they’d taken the worst of them. Maybe the only real one left was this one he was holding now. Maybe he’d be able to keep Jon and Martin and Sasha from getting too close to anything before Gertrude got back and gave them the okay.

Yeah, right. And maybe if his grandmother had wheels she’d have been a wheelbarrow.

Tim knew as soon as he sat down and started reading through the statement that finding anything helpful about it wasn’t going to be quick. Since the longer he took about it, the longer he could keep Jon from reading it—and the longer Jon would give Martin, who after all didn’t have Tim’s specific training or connections, to research his own stack of statements—he determined to take his time. He went back over it a second time, more slowly this time, and started making notes of what he could research and what might prove to have some answers.

Jon emerged from the Archivist’s office about half an hour later looking grumpier than usual and deposited a stack of half a dozen files on each assistant’s desk, then stomped back to do his recordings. Tim waited until the door had shut behind him and Martin was distracted by the phone call he’d been expecting, then hovered his hand experimentally over his new cases.

There was at least one genuine encounter in there, maybe two. He could feel it radiating like heat off of the stack of files, and there was maybe a small temptation to pause his research and rifle through them to see what there was. Two or three of the ones he’d set aside were ones he was almost positive involved the Stranger, and he needed to keep the others away from those. Maybe if he let them have a couple of the others, ones where the ritual wasn’t coming up, he could do extra research into the Stranger’s and just…not tell the others. But he couldn’t really do that with Martin and Sasha sitting right there, even if Sasha was focusing on the Archives computer for the moment, so he went back to his research.

This one was the Buried. He could sense that a mile off. Gertrude had taken out the Buried’s ritual years before she ever met him, so it wasn’t exactly crucial or time-sensitive. He almost offered to swap with Martin, but…no, no, he needed to keep going with this one. He’d promised, and anyway, he rationalized, he didn’t know any of the ones in the others’ stacks were real. He was just assuming.

He was probably right, but still, just assuming.

At the very least, it killed time during the morning. When the hot spot shut off, he saved his work and powered down his laptop. Martin, working away opposite him, looked up in surprise. “Where are you going?”

“Meeting someone for lunch to close out that file,” Tim reminded him. He’d told Martin that on the way in, but sometimes you had to remind him two or three times because he’d get distracted and forget.

“No, I mean—you’re coming back, aren’t you? Why take your laptop with you?”

Because he didn’t trust Sasha not to hack into it, was the answer. In the month he’d known her, Tim had quickly realized that she was catlike in that she couldn’t stand being denied access to anything, so if there was a secret out there, she’d find it. And if Martin went to lunch and left her in the Archives alone, he was pretty sure she would want to look into his laptop just to see if there were things he had in there that he hadn’t shared with the others. There wasn’t—or at least not much—because he wasn’t entirely stupid, but he didn’t think she was above at least trying to get into his email and see what he and Gertrude had talked about, if nothing else.

He shrugged carelessly. “Habit, I guess. Gertrude always warned me not to leave my laptop down here unattended.”

“I’m surprised she knew what a laptop was,” Sasha grumbled from where she sat with her back to them. As if in response, Mister Megabytes honked an error at her.

Tim was momentarily torn between the need to defend Gertrude and the desire to let the others keep underestimating her, then leaned into the joke. “She was convinced it would come to life and eat her. See you later, Marto.” He patted Martin on the shoulder and headed out before he said something he would regret.

The Braisewell file might have been taradiddle from beginning to end, but it at least had given him an excuse to call Lou again. He’d been worried about how she would react. Turned out he hadn’t needed to. She immediately got the business part of the meeting out of the way by informing him that the statement was almost word for word a summary of the plot of a poorly written book Thaddeus Braisewell had tried to sell as “based on a true story” and he’d probably done it to give it legitimacy, and they spent the next hour catching up. Louisa Wexler was significantly less serious than Gertrude Robinson but no less sharp, and Tim had forgotten how much he genuinely enjoyed her company.

“I hope good old Gertie knows what a gem she has in you,” Lou said as they left the restaurant, having permitted Tim to pay for their lunch only because he’d promised to expense it back to the Institute. “We went to school together, has she told you that?”

“She doesn’t talk about the past much,” Tim hedged. It was true, but he also wasn’t going to admit that she was currently missing. “Is that why you suggested I apply at the Institute?”

“Truth be told, Timmy boy, I didn’t think you’d apply for a job,” Lou admitted. “When I suggested you go in for an interview, I meant to go talk to her about whatever happened to Danny. I could see it was eating you up inside and that you didn’t know how to talk about it. Figured it was either a Cain and Abel situation, in which case you’d go to your priest, or something you couldn’t wrap your brain around, in which case it would be right up Gertrude’s alley.” She touched his hand. “I let you go because I could see she’d already helped you. And I can see it’s done you good, being there, doing that kind of work. You look a hell of a lot better than you did the day you packed up your office. Gertrude’s good for you.” With a laugh, she added, “And that new man of yours probably doesn’t hurt.”

“Not unless I ask him to,” Tim quipped, earning him a groan and a sock on the shoulder. He laughed, too. “I enjoy the work. Miss you and the gang, but…you’re right. I think this is where I need to be.” He held out his arms for a hug. “Good to see you again, Lou.”

“Good to see you, too, Timtam.” Lou hugged him tightly, then kissed his cheek before patting it twice. “Don’t be a stranger.”

Tim’s good mood lasted until he walked back into the Archives to see Sasha hunched over her desk, tapping at a laptop that definitely wasn’t hers while Jon stood behind her, arms folded and scowling. She shook her head in frustration. “I don’t get it. The settings are fine, and it hasn’t done that to any of the others.”

“What’s up?” Tim asked, unslinging his laptop bag and setting it in his chair. “Computer eat one of your files?”

“Something like that,” Jon groused.

Sasha glanced up at Tim. “The audio file got corrupted. I tried cleaning it up, but it’s really badly damaged. And trying to re-record it did the same thing.”

“Maybe you need to reinstall the software?”

“I did. And I did a test recording, and it was fine. And then Jon did a test recording, and it was fine. And then he read the first part of a statement, just as a test, and—” Sasha pressed a button on the laptop.

Tim jumped as a horrible, discordant squeal came out of the speakers. It almost sounded like words, somewhere, but he couldn’t make them out clearly. “Jesus Christ!”

“Yeah.” Sasha, mercifully, stopped the playback. “It’s just that one statement, though.”

“No, it’s not,” Jon said with an exasperated sigh. “It’s the one I was trying to record, which was that statement about Old Fishmarket Close up in Edinburgh, and then it was a rather useless fragment I would normally not have bothered with but thought would do for a test, and then it was this one.” He waved at the folder on the table next to him. “But none of the others. I don’t get it.”

Tim looked at the file Jon had waved at. His stomach flipped as he realized which one it was—Joshua Gillespie’s statement. “What was the other one? Old Fishmarket Close?”

“Guy who said he had an encounter with a creeper in Edinburgh a few years back that just kept saying ‘Can I have a cigarette?’ over and over,” Sasha said. “Like six people went missing at the same spot over the years, and at least three of them were smokers, too. And then there was a weird cell photo of a seemingly empty alley, but when I cleaned it up a bit—okay, a lot—it looked like there was a hand in it. So, maybe not totally fake.”

No. No, not fake at all. Tim’s stomach lurched so hard it practically walked out of the Archives without him. He tried to keep his tone light…and maybe distract them a bit, too. “Huh. Weird. And here I thought Gertrude was just bad at technology.”

“What do you mean?” Jon asked sharply.

Tim shrugged and began unpacking his laptop again. “I didn’t say anything because I figured you’d have better luck, but I asked Gertrude once why we didn’t have people who came to give statements record them as audio files rather than write them down. She said she’d never had any luck with computer recordings, and people tended to look at her funny when she asked them to record on the tape recorder.”

Jon straightened. “There’s a tape recorder?”

Shit. Tim froze momentarily before turning to Jon. “Uh, yeah, or at least there was. Haven’t seen it since I got back, though. And there aren’t any tapes lying around.”

“Well…it might do,” Jon said thoughtfully. “In a pinch. At least for the more…difficult statements. See if you can find it. It’s a bit easier to find blank cassette tapes than it is to find recorders in stores these days, so if you can find the one we already have, I can try that out.” He turned to Sasha. “Go to lunch now that Tim’s back, Sasha. I’ll go when Martin gets back. If he manages to get back in a timely fashion.”

Tim bit his tongue to keep from saying anything about that. Sasha nodded and got up. “Right. See you in an hour. Good luck with the hunt, Tim.” She waved and strode out of the Archives. Jon scooped up his laptop and headed back to the Archivist’s office.

Left alone, Tim sighed deeply, then turned to study the Archives. He knew most of Gertrude’s hiding places, and he also knew there had been at least two recorders, so even if she’d taken one with her wherever she was, he could almost certainly find the other. Did he want to, that was the question. Maybe if he pretended he couldn’t find it, Jon would just put a note on the difficult statements and move on.

No, probably not. More likely he’d just go online and find one somewhere. Besides, Gertrude read them into the void sometimes and got the same power from them. Even if Jon wasn’t really the Archivist, even reading them would probably bind him closer to the Eye, make it harder for him to walk away…or for Gertrude to release him once she came back. At least maybe if he found it himself, he could mitigate the damage a little.

Heaving another sigh, he set off into the bowels of the Archives. Him and his big fucking mouth.

[princessasmosprincess]

Charmed, I'm Sure

Chapter 29

Summary: No human has ever avoided Asmodeus's charm. Except for you.

Pairing: Asmodeus x GN Reader/MC

Genre: Drama, angst, a bit of fluff.

Warnings: None in this chapter.

***

Author's Note: This chapter was going to be much longer but I decided to split it so I could spend more time working on the second half and not leave you all hanging for so long. Perfectionism has been a struggle for me lately.

***

“...Well then, I suppose it's about that time,” said Diavolo when everyone at the table seemed to be finished with their meal (aside from Beel who had already begun grumbling that he wanted fourths of the angels’ cooking). “Alright then, here we go!”

Diavolo’s magic filled the room in a bright gold flash that nearly blinded you, and when it subsided the dinner table was gone and the ballroom was filled with hundreds of partygoers, with more filing in as musicians began to play from a gallery high above.

The brothers, along with Diavolo and Barbatos, had transformed into their demon forms, wings and tails proudly on display. You stared at them in awe, having only seen a few of their forms before. They were all stunning.

“Surprised?” said Solomon, coming to stand next to you, “Magic really does come in handy sometimes, huh?”

“We were the only ones here just a bit ago, but now look at all these people.” Luke surveyed the crowd looking both intimidated and amazed.

“They're all guests from across the Devildom, and there certainly are a lot of them.” said Simeon.

Diavolo’s voice easily carried through the full ballroom, “Well then, let the dance begin! Everyone enjoy yourselves!”

The musicians began a dreamy classical number and couples took to the floor.

“Yo, MC.” Mammon nudged your shoulder, “Um, like...you know... Uh, I mean, like...uh…”

You looked at him, patiently waiting as he stuttered.

“L-Like, you've gotta have weird tastes to ask a human like you to dance. I'm guessin' no one here's gonna do that, huh? Ahahahaha!”

You sighed, so this was how he was going to go about asking you to dance? Always with the insults, surely he was better than that.

Mammon continued, looking everywhere else except for your face, “So y'know, as long as you don't have a partner, I guess I could maybe go ahead and pair up with you for a lil bit.”

Then again, he did seem nervous. You decided you should give him a chance.

Just as you were about to answer in the affirmative, Lucifer took hold of your arm, “MC, come dance with me. Now.” And he ushered you all the way to the center of the dance floor without another word.

“You couldn't let Mammon have his turn? He asked me first.” you huffed.

“In general, there are all sorts of reasons why one might ask someone else to dance.” Lucifer ignored your comment and settled his arms around you in perfect form for the dance, “For example, they might be interested in them, they might want to touch them, or they might simply be doing it out of politeness.” He leaned in, “Or it could be because they want to have a private conversation.”

You pulled away, uncomfortable with his closeness. You made yourself small. Pride demanded humility, that was something you’d learned the last time you faced Lucifer, and for the sake of your safety you would give it to him without question.

Lucifer smirked, your reaction seemed to be his desired effect. “It seems like you’ve been getting a lot of assistance lately, from Barbatos, Luke, Solomon… And that’s not to mention the pacts you have with my brothers. You’re up to three, now?” He twirled you once, the movement flawless but devoid of passion.

“I-I’m just following Diavolo’s wishes.” You said as you returned to him. “He encouraged me to make pacts, remember?”

“Is that so? Then you’re a much more, ah, dedicated exchange student than I’ve given you credit for. If only that would show in your grades.”

“My attention has been split lately,” You raised an eyebrow. Why was he coming at you with this now? “Without the use of magic I don't have much in the way of protecting myself. You should know that as well as anyone.” Feeling bolder, you decided to let a single barb loose. It wasn't like he could really do anything to you in a room full of Devildom nobles and the Demon Prince.

“And yet,” Lucifer sneered. “You reek of magic. Asmo’s magic.”

You nearly tripped over your feet, but Lucifer's firm hold kept you upright, “Asmo’s magic?”

“Yes, I noticed it all throughout dinner. He’s cast some sort of protective spell over you.” He pushed you away to twirl you again, keeping contact with your hand until he dragged you back into position.

You were so confused. Why had Asmo done that when he seemed so unhappy with you? Sure he had lightened up a little at dinner, but you knew very well he could hold a grudge for a while. Besides that, what reason did he have for casting a protection spell on you now?

“And the charm on that bauble of yours has been updated as well, with Solomon’s magic. What is it you’re plotting with them?”

An accusation, but not one totally unfounded, “We’re not plotting anything.” You said, indignant. And it wasn’t exactly a lie, you’d never planned anything with Solomon. At least you hadn’t done so recently. “Solomon fixed my bracelet when we were in the labyrinth. It protected us down there.”

It hadn't helped with Henry but it had kept the spiders away. And the vines. They had seemed so full of life but none of them had touched you or the others, though you had a feeling they would have without your little charm of protection.

“Why do I have trouble believing that?” The flames of Hell blazed in his eyes, “Do you really think that little bracelet of yours will protect you from the likes of me?”

“This isn't about you, Lucifer.” There was no way he’d heard about the task Asmo had given you, was there? And even then, a stolen picture was hardly worth reacting like this.

You attempted to lean away again but Lucifer pulled you closer, his arm wrapped around your back as if embracing you, your body flush against his, “I respect my brothers' freedom to do as they wish. However, if I ever sense that you've become a threat to either Diavolo or us…” He spoke directly into your ear, “...then I will show you absolutely no mercy. Understood?” His grip on your hand pressing painfully into the bruises Asmo and Mammon had left yesterday.

You struggled to free yourself from him, wincing in pain as he pressed you closer. His hold on you only tightened. “I want to be good friends with all of you, Lucifer.”

“Well, that's not what I want."

***

“Poor Mammon,” Asmo laughed over the rim of his flute of sparkling gold demonus, “But the first born always gets what he wants. I am a bit surprised Lucifer was so determined to dance with them.”

“How so?” said Solomon. “MC does seem to be in high demand.” He inclined his head to the rest of Asmo’s brothers who all looked anxious to dance with MC. Levi was even reciting his opening line under his breath, pacing at the edge of the dance floor while repeatedly wiping his sweaty hands on his pants.

“Can’t imagine why…” Asmo muttered, taking a sip.

“Hm,” Solomon smirked, “And I take that to mean you’ve figured out your feelings towards them?”

“As a matter of fact, I have.”

“Well?”

Asmo laughed again, linking his arm around Solomon’s, “They’re nothing more than a toy to me.”

It would be fun stringing you along as if he’d actually make a pact with you. Asmo wasn't naive like Beel or touch starved like Levi or stupid like Mammon. He was clever as he was beautiful, even though he showed that side of himself rarely. He had no use for a pact with a magicless human, regardless of how Lord Diavolo encouraged it for the good of the exchange program or whatever misguided nonsense he thrust upon the Devildom. There would be no benefit for Asmo. His time was valuable.

“This whole time I’ve been making this situation bigger than it actually is. I let them get in my head, you see.” said Asmo, “I’ve been feeling so out of sorts lately, but I’ve realized all I need to do is get them out of my system.”

“I see,” said Solomon as he took a sip of his drink.

“You almost sound disappointed. Is it because they’re another human?” Asmo reached up to stroke Solomon’s cheek.

Soon he would be back to his normal carefree self, Asmo was sure of it.

“Honestly, you really shouldn't b–" Asmo suddenly yanked at Solomon’s arm, frantically dragging him down as if he was drowning, his eyes wide. "Solomon! Solomon, what is Lucifer doing to them?!”

Solomon looked out into the dancers, following Asmo’s gaze. There you were in the center of the dance floor, struggling against Lucifer’s superior strength. Most who saw you would probably just assume you were unpracticed in the dance and that Lucifer was dutifully leading you through it. But there was such fear in your eyes. Fear and pain.

Solomon removed his arm from Asmo’s grasp, the demon pale and panicking beside him.

A toy? That’s really all you were to him? Solomon suppressed a chuckle.

“I’ve got this.” And he made his way through the dancers.

***

Cross-posted on AO3

[namboobieslover]

Kintsugi: the beauty of broken things || MYG

Chapter 4

Summary: Yoongi and Minnie have been friends for quite some time now, almost... 15 years? 15 years since they ran into each other in that music classroom by an unlucky (or not) mistake. They've grown close, but both of them have strong characters and insecurities that will have to be put aside when Minnie falls into her own lie, risking her job in the process. They have 3 days to feel comfortable and make everyone believe their role as the young engaged couple or she is fucked :[

Pairing: musical producer! Yoongi x lab tech/science nerdy! f reader au; non-idol! BTS members make a brief appearance

Genre: fluff, angst, kinda slow burn (?), best friends to fake couple au, constant unresolved sexual tension, two idiots too proud to openly speak but pinning each other

Warnings: use of bad language, mentions of insecurities/low self-esteem, anxiety, trauma; light use of weed, little smut if you scrutinize, SFW

Masterlist: 1 // 2 // 3 // 4 // 5 // 6 // 7 // 8 // 9 // ...

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CHAPTER 4: Don't worry, honey.

Word count: 1867

Does she want to play? Let’s play then. I prepare her usual rum with cola; she drinks that like water. For me, I’ll go on with more whiskey.

-There you go -I offer her the glass as I speak- Your favourite.

She tries it and it must be strong because the reaction is her nose scrunching, elevating her glasses with that action.

It’s not my fault since she intently tries to avoid wearing them in public, but I’m still a little surprised. She has this nerdy look that fits her really well, kinda… cute.

I love it when she goes totally science mode, telling me about these things I don't fully understand but makes her fascinated. I get fascinated with her. Most of the time I can't even follow her rhythm or I just stare at her with a blank face, the passion she shows being the only thing I can focus on. Me and my ADHD brain.

-Tell me if I'm wrong but the "love story" -she remarks with her hands- is then resolved.

-I guess. Or maybe… should we talk a little more about details?

-Yeah, lots of coworkers will have insatiable questions about this. Usually, when they ask about it, I just say "Uh, long story. I'll tell you about it when time accompanies". I didn’t want to be detailed about it because I'm not good at lying, nor at remembering things; especially lies.

-You made the right decision. What do you prefer: making up the whole story from scratch or should we add things we would like in those situations? To feel more natural.

-Maybe half and half. We can invent the story and progressively incorporate things we imagine in that type of situation; better if we coincide.

-Works for me -I agree- As we said the first meeting can remain as it was.

-Yeah

-Then, the fictional part should start in university and the whole living together thing.

-About the place… it's safer to say that we live in mine; my coworkers may have access to some of my personal information.

-That's true, but just in case, to justify you going in the opposite direction to eat in Mrs Lin's place… what about saying that we lived first here and then moved to yours?

-That's brilliant… babe.

Even though she struggles with the nickname, the more we say it, the less weird it feels (even if it's just a little little little amount). I should start to practise too, so… little devil on my shoulder comes with a plan.

-Minnie, I have an idea.

-Tell me.

-It's normal because we are not used to it, but we are struggling more than we should with the nickname thing. What do you think about playing a game?

She fights a smile and the competitiveness fills her eyes.

-I'm all ears.

Sure you are.

-We must say one of the agreed names at every natural chance we have. If we forget and the other notices it, the one that failed must drink a shot. It finishes when this night does. Starting from…now.

-Are you ready to lose?

-uh, yeah, yeah, yeah. I'll be ready to WIN once you take your first shot, honey.

She doesn't even deny it once she realises it.

-Let's keep on, babe -she quickly says after drinking it- now that we have stabilised where we lived and live now, how we discovered that we were in love?

-Well, you were the first one to take the first step. What kind of things make you act that way? As I said I know about your lack of patience, but being more specific…?

She seems deeper in thought while trying to figure it out.

-Well… the first thing that comes to mind is the other person avoiding the subject. I don't like receiving mixed signals and then acting like nothing happened; it confuses me and my anxiety gets bad. I need to sort out the situation because if not… I start to doubt myself and my criteria, like wondering if I'm seeing things where I'm not supposed to. Time and health consuming.

-That implies that I'm the one that gave you those mixed signals? -I assume.

-Yeah. It's realistic how hard it would be to change the kind of relationship from besties to partners. As reserved as you are, the absence of answers in that field fits you well. Being honest… you look like the type that doesn't care about this stuff.

I drink from my cup. Even if I try, I can't find a reason to feel hurt by her words. Yes, kinda reflects this image everyone has of me or what I guess I project.

What she says is true and hasn't the intention to hurt me, but it still stings something deep inside me.

-What's wrong? -she cautiously asks.

-What? - I feel lost.

-I can tell something is bothering you.

Should I say it?

-It's just… I -I do care about those things. Do I really give this cold impression that no one can imagine I have feelings too?

I have never felt so exposed, but her face changing from a disoriented expression to a warm one calms me.

-Of course not - she says softly reaching my arm with her hand- I mean… maybe if a stranger meets you for the first time you give disinterested vibes, but once someone has the chance to meet you they can see that you are just an observer.

-Really?

-Yes, Yoongs. I think your character is one of the things I like the most about you.

-Why?

She finishes her drink before answering, trying to get all her thoughts together.

-Sorry if you have felt this way and I didn't notice; what a bad friend I am. In my defence, you should have told me earlier -she playfully hits me- But I will tell you now and don't let it go up to your head.

-This is going to be interesting.

-Shut up before I change my opinion -she warns me with fully red cheeks.

- Sorry

-Maybe we should continue deciding the next step?

-C'mon, what were you going to say? Why do you like my behaviour?

She huffs a big amount of air, her face resembling a tomato once again.

-I think that the way you act makes you interesting.

-How come?

-When I see you deep in thought I can't help but wonder what you are thinking about. What is so fascinating that makes you dissociate? Which is your opinion on common things you don't outside-ly react to? Feels intriguing; a mystery yet to resolve. Your ability to remain calm in whatever situation it's reliable and comforting. You have your ways.

-I do?

She snorts while another cup of alcohol is served by herself.

-Of course you do. Min Yoongi, to my expert eye you don't have that many secrets. Maybe I can't figure out daily things but I can do the important ones. Like, I know how you don't feel comfortable giving away love words or contact gestures. But I know how you take care of everyone in every little way you can: acts of service it's called.

Nobody has ever told me they were paying attention to what I do to the point of noticing that. Feels new and exciting.

-You think that for real?

-Of course. Have I ever lied to you?

-There was this time in 12th grade when you snuck out to meet with… what was his name?

-That's irrelevant right now and that was just a little white lie. I'm sure you wouldn't like to hear me talking about the plan I had to escape through my window just so I can lose my virginity.

-That's true.

Fucking. Kim. Taehyung. Nice guy but terrible at managing his relationships with girls.

-Anyways… have I ever lied to you about something important?

-No that I'm aware of.

-Then just accept the compliment so I can breathe, honey.

She seems a little ashamed to have admitted that she likes my interior world, but I'm not one in the position to laugh at it: I don't know why but I find myself a little flustered. Seems like my own game it's turning against me.

-So… you pay attention to what I do or not, hm? -I joke in a flirting tone

-Not on purpose -she fights me while a deeper scarlet flourishes all along her face- most of the time it's just frustrating and I wanna hurt you real bad. Why would you give me the medication when hungover but offer them to me without looking me in the eye? Like it's nothing? It makes me feel ridiculous.

-Why? -now I'm concerned.

-Because… because…

What started as a joke seems to have touched a sensitive spot for her. Are tears what I see? She sniffles a little.

-Sometimes I feel like everything is out of my hands; like I can't keep everything in order without failing. Even this whole situation… I can’t resolve a struggle I made myself without other people's help. You are always taking care of me and I don't know how to pay you back. I feel useless and every time you help me, I just want to tell you that I appreciate the gesture… the way you act like "it's just routine" makes me feel weak and stupid.

-Oh sorry. I didn’t know you felt that way.

-No worries; how could you have known if I had never told you anything about it? You are not a mind reader. So… blame is on me.

Lately, I've been so focused on my work that I didn't take what my friend felt into consideration. I feel bad, even if all the hurting wasn't intentional. Sadly, I'm not brave enough to admit that if I act that way it's because I feel ashamed to show my genuine feelings. How much I care about her well-being and how endearing his little demeanours are to me. But I'm sure that she knows this and all she has expressed now is the result of all the pressure she is going through. I do the best that comes to my mind: I wrap my arms around her torso and force her to be part of the sandwich conformed by my strong arms and my chest.

-I'm sorry. Really, really sorry. -I wish for my hold on her to reflect how truly sorry I am. 

I feel her body instantly relax. She feels warm while I feel cold; it must be the alcohol. Or it's just the physical representation of what we are. I don't know. All I know is that hugging her feels nice, right and the only thing in this world that deserves my attention now.

-You know Yoongles, I could never be angry with you. As I said, I know you enough to see the real you and is marvellous. You shouldn't hide it. I wish everyone were able to see your real side.

But you do (I want to say but don't have the courage to) and on Thursday- well, not Thursday but already Friday if we are exact- at 1:23 am, that's all that matters to me.

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A/N: Hell yeah, we love a sensitive king!

This must be a record hahaha. Since this one and the previous one were shorter, I thought that uploading double would be the right thing. I hope you still like it, and if not, please let me know in the comment section. Have a good day or night :)

[fleetsonourgecentral]

I bring you a thought: Scourge has to be the one to tell Tails to get out of the workshop and go to bed at a reasonable time for once. Tails refuses. Chaos and violence follow. (I’m just finding myself with a new craving for Scourge acting like a big brother and thought of you.) Have a wonderful week!!

I am holding this thought in my hands thank u

~~~

There were upsides and downsides to Sonic being away from the rest of the Freedom Fighters. Surprisingly, the upsides did not outweigh the downsides. Sure, Scourge got to do whatever he wanted in the kitchen without Sonic around to yank him away from the kettle by his ear, and sure, it meant he usually wouldn't be expected to do any, blech, hero stuff, but it also left him without his favourite person. (To annoy. Favourite person to annoy, because that was definitely his priority, and the part about being apart from his boyfriend definitely did not bother him at all.)

And apparently, recently it also meant some of his responsibilities were dumped on Scourge instead.

Not the mildly interesting ones like leading the Freedom Fighters, either; according to Amy he was "too much of a loose canon" and "not concerned enough about civilians" or whatever and thus wasn't allowed near the leader position. No, his brand new responsibility was that he was expected to babysit one Miles Tails Prower. A fact Sonic conveniently forgot to inform him of until the second before walking out of the door, when he'd called out, "By the way, keep Pixel Brain in line while I'm gone!"

Because if there was one thing Scourge's entire demeanor screamed, it was good with kids.

To the kid's credit, he wasn't the worst Tails Scourge had ever met. He was no natural born genius like Prime Tails, but he wasn't always looking out for a way to stab Scourge in the back like Miles did, so he wasn't awful. He just... wasn't the kind of kid Scourge was used to. He was used to Tails being some super genius on par with Robotnik or Kintobor. He was used to a frighteningly clever fox who was (sometimes) his terrified minion or Prime's loyal sidekick.

But this Tails? He was a Freedom Fighter, sure, but he was nothing special. It was easier to see him as a kid than any other Tails he'd met, and it showed in the way Sonic treated him, much to the brat's dismay.

Scourge didn't really know what to do with that, so he had no clue how he was supposed to handle these brand new babysitting duties.

Still, he didn't... feel right just blowing the job off on someone else. Probably because of those pesky feelings he'd managed to catch. He knew Sonic trusted him - he never would've agreed to date Scourge if he didn't - but being asked to keep an eye on Tails was something else. A show of trust he'd never even considered possible to receive. Sonic made fun of Tails more than he made fun of anyone else, but he was also the first person to go for the throat of anyone who tried to seriously hurt him.

So to be entrusted with keeping an eye on him? It was a responsibility he was reluctant to put down despite how much it weighed in his arms.

Tails was important to Sonic, and Sonic was important to Scourge, so like it or not, Scourge was obligated to watch the kid.

So far, it hadn't turned out too bad. Tails wasn't a little kid, and he'd been left on his own in worse situations, so he could keep himself safe and didn't need Scourge to watch his every move. In the unlikely event of an emergency happening, it would probably be down to Scourge to pull the kid out of any trouble he got into, but for now, all Scourge could really come up with was making sure he ate and slept. Which was, to his knowledge, pretty much the only thing Sonic did anyway, so it was fine, right?

Tails had been in the lab all day anyway. Apparently he'd started showing an interest in expanding his mechanics knowledge, and Tekno had jumped on the opportunity to teach him everything she knew and get herself a little assistant. And Tekno (probably) knew more about kids than he did, so Scourge was content to leave Tails in her hands.

At least until she roped him into it, with "just make sure you chase him to bed on time like Sonic would, please Scourge, Amy and I have a date and we'll be back late, please okay thank you bye now!"

An exchange that, he should mention, he did not manage to get a word into.

A glance at the clock told Scourge it was finally time to drag Tails to bed. The kid was supposed to leave the lab fifteen minutes ago, but he hadn't come out yet, which meant it was down to Scourge. As annoying as Kintobor's nagging was, it was easy to ignore or even mute him, and there was only so much he could do, so Scourge couldn't rely on him to chase Tails out of the lab.

With a sigh, Scourge hauled himself out his chair and headed down to the lab. Responsibility time it was, then. Sonic was damn lucky Scourge loved him.

As expected, Tails was hunched over a bench, fiddling with something Scourge couldn't see due to it being hidden behind huge clumps of wires and scrap parts. His tongue was poking out in concentration, eyebrows furrowed and squinting at whatever he was working on as he muttered to himself.

Okay. Just chase him up to bed. Easy. He was just a kid, and not even a super genius like every other Tails in the multiverse. Really, how hard could it be?

"Hey shortshit," Scourge said, knocking on the wall of the lab. "Put that shit down, it's time for bed."

"Mmuh?" Tails blinked, squinting up at Scourge like he'd forgotten how to open his eyes properly. "Aww, c'mon, just five more minutes. I've almost got it."

"Yeah, nah, you've already had five more minutes three times, you're all out of five minutes. Get."

"But I'm not tired," Tails protested, demonstrating how not tired he was by yawning loudly and rubbing his eye with his fist.

Man, he really did look like a kid when he did stuff like that. If Scourge had even a scrap of a protective instinct in his body, he would probably understand why Sonic viewed Tails as a kid to look after a tiny bit better.

Scourge did not have that scrap of a protective instinct. He did, however, have several scraps of self preservation, all of which told him to chase the brat to bed just in case Sonic decided failing to do so meant he wasn't living up to his "keep an eye on Pixel Brain" task and threw him in the doghouse. Which was almost the same as a protective instinct, right?

"Sure, squirt. Go be not tired in bed, then, but not in here."

Tails stared at him, assessed him, then jutted his jaw out in defiance and said, "You're not the boss of me."

"Think you'll find Sonic says I am. But if you really wanna take that up with him when he gets back, be my guest. In the meantime, get your ass to bed."

"No."

Oh, Scourge was beginning to remember why he didn't like kids.

"Listen, either you walk yourself to bed, or I drag you out by your tails. What's it gonna be, shorty?"

Tails shrank back, glancing down at the table in uncertainty, fiddling with whatever he was making. Scourge smirked and folded his arms. Too easy.

And then Tails glanced back up.

... Too easy.

Tails was not a natural born child genius. He did not have an IQ on par with Robotnik or Kintobor, he wasn't Scourge's (sometimes) terrified minion or Prime's ever loyal sidekick. All his mechanics understanding was taught instead of innate talent, and as a Freedom Fighter, he was usually okay enough to look out for himself, but he was nothing special.

He did, however, look up to Sonic.

Scourge had never taken Miles in like most Sonics did to their Tails', he'd more just picked him up off the street to recruit into his gang, but he knew damn well Miles learned how to lie, manipulate, and betray from him. Prime Tails took after Prime Sonic more obviously, sickeningly brave and selfless and nice, always watching Prime's back when he needed it.

One way or another, for one reason or another, in every dimension there was always a little two tailed fox taking after a speedy older hedgehog.

So the lack of natural born genius or natural born fighting skills didn't matter when Tails raised his head. And when their gazes met and Tails' eyes sparked with challenge, Scourge only had a split second to remember this Tails looked up to the rudest, cockiest, most dickish and cunning Sonic in the multiverse.

"Gotta get me first," Tails said, and launched his invention right at Scourge's face.

It was an impressively hard throw, so the plastic ball pummeling Scourge straight in the face already had enough force to actually make him stagger back, but then multicolored dust puffed up the second the ball made contact with his face and immediately obscured his vision. Scourge cursed, but that just made it get in his mouth, and he had to squeeze his eyes shut to stop any more of it from getting in his eyes and making them sting even worse.

Swiping at the air to clear it, Scourge coughed and spat on the floor to get the dust out of his mouth - Tekno was gonna kill him for that, like he gave a shit - blinking his stinging, watering eyes to clear them. Whatever the dust was, it probably wasn't dangerous or Tails wouldn't have thrown it at his face, but damn if it didn't sting like a bitch.

By the time Scourge regained his bearings, Tails had already vanished, probably not to bed, and Scourge's jacket - and presumably his face - was covered in the dust.

Oh, that little fuck was in for it when Scourge got his hands on him.

Scourge charged out of the lab after Tails, just managing to glimpse those tails disappear into the kitchen, and grinned a wild, unfriendly grin as he skidded in after him.

"Come on, kid," he laughed, "you can't expect to outrun the fastest hedgehog in the-"

He stopped.

Tails was hovering in the air, the kettle held above his head threateningly, and something about that set of alarm bells in Scourge's head.

"You don't honestly think you'll manage to hit me with that, do you?" Scourge said, even as his stomach started sinking. "You know I can dodge that and bring you down before you can even blink."

"I know," Tails said, holding the kettle even higher. "But I don't need to aim for you. I just need to aim for the floor."

"Yeah? And what's throwing a tantrum and breaking shit gonna do for ya?"

Tails' stare was almost unnerving. Almost. Hard to be unnerved by a dorky little fox who still had his baby fluff, but the kid was giving a good effort.

"If Sonic comes back to find a broken kettle," he said slowly, "he's gonna blame one of us two since Amy and Tekno are out all night. And who do you think he'll believe? The kid he thinks can barely hurt a badnik, or the reckless hedgehog who isn't allowed near the kettle and is petty enough to have a destructive vendetta against it because of that?" He gave Scourge a cheeky, not quite cunning but certainly getting there, smile. "Of course, if you stop chasing me and I can just have ten more minutes to finish what I was doing, that doesn't have to happen."

Oh shit, Tails had spent too much time with both of them.

"Oh please, you're shit at lying," Scourge scoffed, although he kept a careful eye on the kettle. "Sonic's way too smart to fall for something like that. One look at what you did to my face and he'll know."

"You really want to tell him I managed to hit you in the face by surprise?"

"... One look at what you did to my jacket and he'll know."

"No he won't. Sonic never pays attention to my inventions, he won't even know what it is. So he won't know it came from me."

"I can tell him, and Tekno can back me up. Face it, kid, you break that kettle, there's no way the blame won't fall on you."

"Yeah? Wanna test it?"

"Breaking the thing is gonna backfire more on you than it will me," Scourge hurried to argue before Tails could follow through with his test threat. "You're the one who goes without tea and hot chocolate if you break it, not me, since you're too fucking cowardly to just use the damn microwave."

"It doesn't taste right if you use a microwave," Tails protested, scowling and hovering a little closer to the floor. Still not quite in reach, but closer.

"It tastes exactly the damn same and you know it, you're just copying what Sonic says."

"No I'm not!"

"Yeah you are."

"Am not!" Tails puffed out his cheeks. "Besides, we can just boil the water on the hob until we get a new one."

"Stove," Scourge corrected absently, subtly shuffling closer as Tails hovered even lower. "It takes too long and you know it. You'd all hate it."

Just a bit more, a bit more, a little bit more...

"Yeah, well-"

Quick as a flash Scourge threw himself at Tails and snatched the kettle right out of his hand, placing it safely back on the counter with a smug grin.

He had no idea if Sonic would blame him or Tails for the breaking of the kettle, but he wasn't about to risk it. Just in case.

"Ha! Try hiding behind the kettle now you little-"

But Tails was already gone, fleeing towards the living room. Cursing his whole entire life and Sonic specifically, Scourge gave chase.

He barely stepped into the living room before Tails was throwing the couch cushions at him in an attempt to keep him away, but this time Scourge was ready for war. He snatched one of the cushions out of the air and used it to bat away the rest of the improvised weapons flying at his poor, abused face.

The assault lasted for maybe fifteen more seconds before Tails began to run out of cushions to throw, and in his panic to find more ammo, there was a falter in his pattern Scourge immediately took advantage of to tackle him to the ground.

Tails gasped and squirmed, but he wasn't strong enough to break Scourge's grip, so his futile struggle didn't last very long before he gave up and slumped into the ground in defeat.

"That's what I thought," Scourge said triumphantly, making sure to smear some of the dust on his jacket onto Tails' face in retaliation for earlier. "You can't beat me, kid."

"Not yet," Tails mumbled into the carpet.

Well, at least the kid had ambitions.

Scourge didn't give Tails any more choice in the matter. He hauled Tails over his shoulder and sped to his room so the brat wouldn't get any last second escape attempt ideas, then dumped him in his bed.

With a sigh of someone who knew he'd been beaten for at least another day, Tails reluctantly settled under the blankets and mumbled, "G'night, Scourge."

"Save that mushy shit for Sonic," Scourge snorted, flicking off the light and closing Tails' door behind him as he stepped out into the hallway.

Ugh, kids. Sonic couldn't come home fast enough.

Scourge shrugged off his jacket and dumped it in his laundry basket to deal with later, pulling a face the whole time, then stepped into the bathroom. He studied himself in the mirror, squinting at the amount of dust on him. His poor jacket caught most of the attack, so only his arms and face remained covered in dust. His torso had a little sprinkled on, but not enough for him to give a shit just yet.

It would probably be easier to just have a shower to wash all the dust off, but honestly, Scourge couldn't be assed. Rinse off in the sink it was, then. He'd shower properly in the morning.

Should he clean up the lab before he went to bed or in the morning?

Ah, fuck it, neither. Tekno could do that. It was her fault for leaving Tails unsupervised in the lab anyway.

Scourge got to work scrubbing the dust from his fur, first his arms, then his face. He managed to get half his face clean before the door downstairs opened and Sonic appeared behind him in a breeze.

Scourge blinked at Sonic's reflection. Sonic's reflection blinked back.

"Didn't expect you back today," Scourge said, turning to face Sonic properly.

"I'm the fastest thing alive, why didn't you expect me back early?" Sonic squinted at his face. "Why do you have the dust from Tails' latest invention on your face?"

"And here he thought you wouldn't even notice him building it," Scourge snorted, turning back to the sink to continue scrubbing his face.

"Of course I noticed. Nerd's been going on and on about making something to obscure badniks' vision so we can have an edge in battle for months now, I couldn't miss it if I tried."

Scourge hadn't bothered to fight his smiles around Sonic for months now, and he didn't try this time, either.

That, that right there, that was one of the reasons he loved him. One of the things that blindsided him early on. Sonic paid attention even when it didn't feel like it.

"Kid's been working on it all day," he said. "Dunno when it'll be ready now the brat's gone and tested it before he meant to, but considering this-" he gestured to his face- "it looks promising."

Sonic was quiet for a moment, then said, "He threw it at you, didn't he?"

"No! Fucker just blew up in the lab-"

"Bullshit. You called him a brat, he totally threw it at you."

Scourge scowled, scrubbing vigorously at his face. He didn't need to see Sonic to know he had that stupid, proud smirk on his face. "Shut up. You're a bad influence on that kid."

"And here I thought my bad influence on people was one of the things you love about me."

"Not when it inconveniences me."

"Don't be such a baby."

"Easy for you to say, you didn't have to deal with it."

"It wouldn't take me that much effort to 'deal with it.'" Sonic leaned against the sink, inspecting Scourge's stained face with a playful smirk. "I can't believe you couldn't dodge something thrown at you by Tails."

"Shut up," Scourge mumbled. "He's learned it from you."

"Fucking finally, he's picking something up." Sonic laughed softly. His laugh was naturally harsh, inherently mocking, perfect for rubbing people up the wrong way even when that wasn't why he was laughing in the first place. Scourge loved it. "Hurry up and finish washing your face, I'm not kissing you while you're all dusty."

"Aww, have you missed kissing me? That's embarrassing," Scourge teased, although he did scrub his face a little faster to get the dust off quicker.

"Don't act like you haven't missed it too, dickhead."

"Nah, I don't need you at all," Scourge said, inspecting his face in the mirror to make sure the last of the dust was gone. There was a small bruise forming on his muzzle, just under his mouth and to the left, from where the plastic ball had smacked him in the face.

"Sure, whatever you say." Right on cue Sonic planted a soft kiss on the bruise. "Cheers for keeping him out of trouble, glad to see I can leave him and come back to see him in one piece.

Translation: thank you for watching him for me, I'm glad I can trust you with him. I love you.

"Don't ever ask me to do it again," Scourge said, slipping his hand into Sonic's. "I didn't sign up for babysitting duties when I agreed to date you. If you make me do it again, I ain't promising it'll end as well as this did."

Translation: I'll do it, but only for you, because he matters to you. I love you, too.

"Fine. But then you don't get to whinge about me being the 'bad influence' on him."

"You want me to be a bad influence on him, too? I'm honored."

"You already are."

It was true. That trick about framing him for the broken kettle had Scourge the Hedgehog written all over it. It was hard to believe he'd become such a big part of the Freedom Fighters lives he was having influence on them.

Still. Scourge didn't hate it. It felt... kinda good, actually. To know he was important enough to influence people, influence Tails, and be trusted enough for Sonic to let it happen.

He still wasn't gonna be taking on any more babysitting responsibilities, though.

... At least, not without a fight, even if it was for show.

[neonacity]

LUCID | NCT DREAM ‘00 LINE X READER | CH.4

LUCID DREAMS - A TYPE OF DREAM WHEREIN THE PERSON IS AWARE THAT THEY ARE CAUGHT IN A DREAM WORLD.

Summary: It was supposed to be a harmless, professional transaction. You were to tutor a group of boys, get your pay at the end of the day, and go home to your loving fiance. Kids aren’t supposed to be dangerous, right? So why, then, are you caught up in a web of madness that slowly makes you feel like you’re in a living nightmare?

NOTE:This is a yandere plot featuring NCT Dream ‘00 line which means there will be mature themes in the story as well as obsessive, toxic behavior. If you’re a minor, please refrain from interacting. If this isn’t your thing, then just scroll and skip. In no way am I condoning anything written here— this is not love, this is obsession—nor do I think that any of the people mentioned here will act any way like in this story. This is purely a work of fiction.

Genre: yandere, horror, suspense

TW: abuse, obsessive behavior, toxic relationships, suggestive scenes, stalking, possible kidnapping, mental health. Age gap–though nothing dramatic. Everyone is of legal age. Creepy, creepy, creepy! This will be updated as the story goes along.

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

“Deep into that darkness, peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing, doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared dream before”

— Edgar Allan Poe

"Is she going to be okay?"

"Yes. I checked the results of her scans and there seems to be no broken bones. But she did hit her head hard so I would suggest she take a rest for a couple of days."

The voices dipped in and out of your swimming consciousness like broken records. There were words that you caught and tried to grasp, but you couldn't quite make out what they mean while you struggled to emerge from your half asleep state. A searing pain ran down the left side of your head and you winced, before a particularly harsh throbbing there finally sent your eyes flying open.

The first thing you saw were the red velvet drapes hanging from the middle of what looked like the ceiling of a four poster. You frowned at it, not quite understanding what exactly it is you were looking at, when another painful throb on your temple had your hand flying towards it.

You were too focused on trying to grit back the pain that you missed the hurried rustling from beside your bed. When your vision finally focused again, you saw five heads peer at you wearing identical worried expressions.

"Hey. Are you okay?" Taeyong asked softly, concern written all over his face. He raised his hand slowly to reach out to you, but then something snapped deep down in your consciousness that sent you bolting up into a sitting position, your feet scrambling against the mattress until your back hit the headboard. Your eyes jumped from one face to the next, heart thudding harshly against your chest.

Taeyong's expression shifted from that of shock into pain at your reaction. He didn't make any other move, his gaze briefly moving instead to the person standing beside the head of your bed.

"Taeil-hyung…"

You felt a gentle hand rest on your shoulders then. For the first time, you noticed the man in a white jacket leaning towards you. He looked unfamiliar, but there was something about him that calmed you down. He peered closer into you now, brown eyes quickly scanning your features.

"Shh… everything's okay. How are you feeling?"

His soft voice slowed your heartbeat down a little. You tried to give him an answer, wincing at the scratchiness of your throat.

"Who are you?"

"I'm a doctor. Do you know where you are right now?"

Your gaze moved from him, then back to the others who are still standing on the fringes of your bed. Now that you are much calmer, you could finally properly recognize the rest of the group in the room. Taeyong sat closest to you while Haechan and Renjun hovered by the foot of the bed wearing identical frowns. Jaemin stood by the other side, his hand wrapped around Jisung's shoulders loosely. The youngest boy looked on to you, eyes rimmed with red.

You slowly nodded after swallowing the dryness in your mouth.

"The… manor…"

You visibly saw the rest of the group give a collective sigh of relief. Taeil moved to sit beside you and gently moved your face to him to quickly check your eyes with his pen light.

"She's still a little bit confused from the fall. She does look okay though," he said and you figured he was talking to the others instead of you. You frowned as you felt him take your wrist to check your pulse.

"I… fell?"

His brown eyes glanced at you briefly.

"You did. You don't remember anything?"

Before you could even respond, you heard Taeyong gently speak from your side.

"You fell on a ravine. We heard Jisung crying when we came back and came looking for you guys as fast as we could. You were unconscious when we found you…"

You let his words sink in slowly. Little by little, your memories came slipping back like little puzzle pieces that arranged themselves slowly in the back of your mind.

You remember Chenle's screams, you running into the forest, and then the feeling of falling into nothingness. Your hands balled over the blanket covering you as your head throbbed again.

"I'm so sorry, noona," your attention moved to Jisung who leaned just a little bit closer to you. He looked like he had been crying. "Chenle and I took our playing too far. We didn't think that this would happen…" he trailed off and you saw Jaemin try to soothe him by rubbing his arm.

"Where's Chenle…? Is he alright?" You asked, remembering that the boy was calling for help before your own accident.

"Yes. He's still unconscious from the anesthesia. He broke his leg from his fall but we were able to rush him to the clinic with you," Taeyong answered again.

"Is your head hurting? We had to make a couple of stitches on you, but your scans turned out fine," the doctor, who you figured out is named Taeil, asked again. Your hand raised once more to the side of your head and noticed the bandages there for the first time. One side of your skull alternated from throbbing dully to stinging sharply.

"Um...it hurts a little bit."

Taeil simply nodded and grabbed his pen to write something on the file he was holding. "That's normal. I thought you would have some short-term memory loss so it's good that you're only dealing with pain. I'll prescribe you painkillers for it."

You listened silently to what he was saying, only half understanding the context of his words. You still felt confused… like there was something you are missing.

As if he read your mind, Taeil glanced up at you again.

"Feeling confused is normal since you hit your head. You should also expect some intense headaches for a couple of weeks, maybe even some mild hallucinations. We'll try to control that with the medicine I'll give you but we're not sure how your body will react to them so just prepare yourself for the possibility, okay?"

You numbly nodded as you watched him finish scribbling something on a smaller piece of paper.

"Other than that, you don't need to be admitted to the hospital. But feel free to come back when you don't feel better after two weeks. You do have someone at home to watch over you, right?"

That made you stop, remembering that you would be alone for a couple of days. Taeil patiently waited for your answer, hand still hovering over his files.

"I… uh… I'm alone for three days but my boyfriend will be back after that…'' you finally managed to say. He frowned slightly at your answer.

"You don't have any relatives who can watch over you?"

You shook your head.

"You can stay here with us," you heard someone say and you looked over to Renjun who was still watching you with a worried expression on his face. "At least until you have someone with you at home."

The rest of the group seemed to have been taken by surprise by his suggestion as much as you were. The boy simply looked at his brothers in answer, however, a frown settling between his brows.

"It's the least we could do, right? Technically, it is our fault. And she got in an accident while at work. We can't just leave her on her own."

Taeil looked from the group, then at you. "That's not a bad idea… you do need to be under observation at least for a couple of days."

You honestly didn't know what to answer. Something told you to say no to the offer, but another part of you simply didn't have the energy to argue with the proposition. Before you could even give a reply, Jisung untangled himself from Jaemin to hold your hand. When you looked at him, he seemed on the verge of tears again.

"Please, noona? Can I make it up to you?"

You watched him, torn by the expression on his face. Finally, you gave a sigh.

"Okay… but I do need to tell my boyfriend that I'll stay over. And I don't really have anything with me…"

"You can borrow our mom's wardrobe. I think you are about the same size," Haechan offered. "Then we can just buy your other things."

You didn't know what to feel about that but nodded at the suggestion, at least for now. With the decision finalized, Taeil finally turned to Taeyong and handed him the paper he had been writing on.

"Here’s her prescription then. I have bottles of the painkillers with me but you might need to drive back to town for the sleeping pills," he said as he turned towards the older boy. "She might need it in case she gets trouble sleeping."

Taeyong nodded as his eyes quickly scanned the paper handed over to him. "About Chenle, do I also need to get him something?"

"We can talk about that separately. How about we go check him now? He must be up around this time, too."

The older boy threw you a glance and a parting apologetic smile before following Taeil who had already picked up his bag and started heading towards the door. Beside you, Jisung quickly let go of your hand to follow the doctor.

"Taeyong-hyung, I'll go with you. Noona, I'll be back later."

You watched silently as the group left and closed the door softly behind them. You still felt a little out of it that you didn't really give notice to the three boys left inside your room until you felt your mattress dip a little. A finger to your chin broke you from your reverie, and when you turned to your side, you saw Jaemin peering at you closely.

"Does it still hurt, noona?"

You blinked at his closeness, but you still felt too weak to even panic or move away. So instead, you simply nodded, goosebumps rising on your flesh as he moved to tuck a stray lock of hair behind your ear.

"I'm sorry… now your pretty face is all scratched up, too. I don't think they'll leave marks though… so we don't have to worry about that, hmm…?" His eyes roamed your features slowly and deliberately. You swallowed and finally moved away for a bit.

"Do you remember what happened? Did you slip?"

Renjun's question was the distraction you were looking for. Turning to him, you gave yourself some time to process an answer,  slowly shifting through the memories that were still painful and hazy for you to fully grasp. Still, you tried to recall what you could manage, your confusion only growing as you shifted through the bits and pieces of what you could remember.

There were a few things that didn't make sense to you and a few that you were also sure to be true, the most glaring one being the impossibility of you slipping down that cliff. No, you didn’t lose your footing. 

You were pushed. 

"No… I didn't. Something… something hit me," you finally managed to mumble. The three boys looked at each other, mild confusion in their expressions.

"Hit you? Like an animal?" Haechan asked with a concerned tone. You slightly shook your head as you thought over that possibility as well.

The thing is… you were sure there were no other people in the woods because everyone was accounted for when the accident happened. Taeyong and the kids weren't back yet from their trip and you were sure Jisung and Chenle were in another part of the forest since you heard them call out to you. Jeno is the only one left… but the chances of him being in the woods with you were also slim because of his injury. So that only leaves two possibilities—one, being a wild animal as the culprit behind your fall, or two, that someone else who isn't part of Rosewood manor was there with you in the woods.

Personally, you desperately wanted the first one to be true, but a gnawing feeling inside of you told you no. Your head might still feel a little hazy, but there's one thing you can be sure of.

The force that sent you hurtling down the cliff? That was no animal.

They were human hands.

"Might be… an animal," you whispered more to yourself than to address the boys in the room after a while. You didn't know what pushed you to lie through your teeth, but your gut feeling told you it is the right thing to do at the moment.

Haechan, Jaemin, and Renjun exchanged worried glances amongst themselves, obviously not buying what you just said. Fortunately, they didn't seem to push it for now.

"Well...we'll leave you alone tonight so you can rest. Haechan and I will try to look for clothes that could fit you so you can get changed. If you need anything, you can just press 0 on that intercom. It connects you to Taeyong-hyung," Renjun explained gently and pointed towards a small machine on the wall beside your bed. You nodded and gathered the blankets closer to you.

"We'll go now. Rest well, noona," Haechan said as he turned towards the door. Renjun followed after giving you another apologetic smile.

You waited for Jaemin to finally pick himself up from your bed as well before allowing yourself to relax. Silently, you moved your gaze towards him, only to be met by his smile. It was strange… how even though he looked so kind and gentle, the way he stared at you still sent chills running down your spine.

"Don't worry. We'll make it up to you. We'll take care of you really well…"

----- "I can drive back tonight and pick you up early tomorrow," Jaehyun said over the phone, his voice barely concealing his worry and agitation. You gnawed on your lower lip as you stared at the view outside of your room, the night sky looking foreboding without any presence of stars. You have managed to prop yourself up against the seat in front of your window out of your sheer desperation to temporarily escape the bed. It is quite ironic, maybe even strange, how you feel claustrophobic inside despite the expansive space of your quarters.

"It's fine, Jae. I'm doing much better now," you finally managed to say as you forced yourself to look away from the view of the forest beyond. Just looking at it gave you chills even though you know you should feel safe in the confines of the manor now.

"Baby, you have stitches on your head," Jaehyun tried to say that evenly, though you know just how much he is panicking right now. For a stranger, your fiance can easily pass off as unbothered and calm most of the time, but you know him enough to read him like an open book. To be honest though... you can't really blame him for how he is reacting right now.

"Yes, but I'm feeling fine now. I don't really want you to drive back this late…and besides, your workshop just started. It's only for three days anyway,” you tried to reason out, though another part of you desperately wants him by your side at the moment. You tried your best to fight it off, however, knowing how important this business trip is for him. “I think it’s okay if I stay here temporarily while I wait for you,” you added, trying your best to sound convincing. 

Jaehyun was silent at the other end of the line and you patiently waited for him to speak again, knowing full well that he is just looking for another possible compromise to the situation. Finally, he sighed. 

"Are you sure you are safe there though?" He asked quietly after a while. His question made you stop for a little bit, your eyes moving towards the view of the woods from your window again.

"...yes. I have a very private room right now so I can rest well," you answered as you tore your eyes away from it and forced yourself to look at the interiors of your quarters instead. Studying it now, it looks a lot like the layout of Jeno's room so you figured you must be in the same hallway.

"That's not what I mean," Jaehyun said, and you already know what he is going to say next. "What I mean is, are you sure you can trust the people there?"

It took you a few seconds to answer that. You would be lying to yourself if you say you don't feel strange and jumpy right now, but at the same time, you also feel a little guilty for harboring such emotions when the family was nice enough to offer you temporary space and care. Sure, your accident still remains a mystery, but it’s not like you can assume that anyone wanted it to happen, especially since Chenle also ended up injured. It’s because of that reason that you simply swallowed back your nerves, chalking up your odd feelings as after effects for your fall.  

"Yes, of course. They haven't really bothered me that much. I don't think we should worry about it…"

Jaehyun's silence said that he wasn't entirely convinced. It took a moment for him to finally give a resigned gust of breath.

"Fine. Keep yourself safe, okay? I will call you back again tomorrow morning. Make sure you rest tonight."

"Okay...Don't worry about me too much," you said, smiling even though you know he couldn’t see you right now.

"I will still try and see if I can cut my trip shorter, alright?"

You chuckled. There it is, the compromise.

"Okay…"

"I love you. Stay safe."

"I will… Love you too."

"Oh, and honey?" You were about to cut the call when his voice stopped you again. You pressed the phone closer to your ear once more, waiting for his last words.

"Lock the door."

Your eyes flew towards the dark oak door at the other end of the room at his words.

"Okay, I will. Goodnight, baby."

You let out a tired sigh when you finally finished the call. Maybe Jaehyun was right… Maybe it wouldn't hurt if he could cut his trip and go home earlier than planned. For now though, you don't have any other choice but at least spend the first night here to recover a little more. Your wound has honestly started stinging again, maybe because the effect of the first painkillers are finally starting to wear off.

You gave one long look around your quarters before throwing your phone on the wide four poster bed. When your gaze landed on the door once more, you heard Jaehyun's reminder echoing in your mind again.

Slowly, you walked towards it, feet padding over the lush rug that covered the whole floor of the room. You noticed that there was a double lock system installed on it at least���a knob one, and a bolt-type that can be maneuvered from the inside. You gave an internal sigh of relief when you took notice of the latter, knowing that you have at least a level of protection even from those who have keys to the house. You have started to reach out to fix both locks when the door swung open all of a sudden, causing you to stumble back a little in shock.

Haechan looked back at you with the same look of surprise on his face at the threshold. For a while the two of you just stood there, staring at each other.

"Ah, I'm sorry, noona. I forgot to knock. I'm not really used to having guests here," he smiled sheepishly as he scratched the back of his head. His apologetic chuckles finally made you unfreeze from your spot.

"Tha-that's fine. I was just surprised. Why… are you here?"

"Oh, I just have to give you this," he extended his hands over to you, and for the first time, you noticed the folded garment that he was holding. You gingerly took it, feeling the softness of silk brushing your fingers.

"Renjun and I tried to look for an old night gown of our mom's that would fit you. It is a little bit old fashioned but it's clean and still holds up together so I think that would work, at least for now."

At his words, you took a closer look at the dress on your hands before unfurling it to its full length. He was right, it does look a little dated with its long sleeves, laced collar, and embroidered hem that would probably fall mid-leg on you, but the size looks just enough for your frame. You looked up at Haechan again with a smile.

"Thank you. I think this will work… But, are you sure it is okay for me to borrow it?" You asked hesitantly, eyes falling briefly again on the dress. After all, you do know the story behind their parents, and there are some people who can get a little sensitive about the possessions of their passed on loved ones. The least you could do is to bring up the question. 

Haechan, however, looked the least bit bothered. You didn't catch it because you were studying the lacework on one of the cuffs under the light, but one end of his lips curled up into a smirk as his hooded gaze moved to study the dress on your hands before grazing your form from head to toe.

"No. We don't mind. It's the only female clothing that we can offer for now, unless you want to borrow one of our clothes~?"

That immediately made your eyes snap back to him. His words were innocent, but the way his voice curled made your cheeks feel hot all of a sudden.

"No, that's not what I meant—"

The embarrassment on your face must have looked too obvious because the boy suddenly burst out laughing, his giggles sounding like a lilting tune as it floated down the hallway. You've always noticed how beautiful his voice is, but it is only now that you realized how calming it is to the ears, despite your current flustered state.

"Yah, I'm kidding, noona. I was just trying to make you feel better," he said after his laughter calmed down. You tried to give him an apologetic smile and looked down on the dress in your hands, your fingers unconsciously finding comfort from the smoothness of the silk. Haechan drank your expression silently with his eyes in the brief moment that you were distracted. You have always had this independent and confident air around you normally, but you have a more subdued nature now, probably because you are hurt.

He studied you silently as a thought formed in his mind. He may like the way you carry yourself on an everyday basis, but the way you are now? 

He loves it. 

"Besides… I think you'll look pretty on it," he said softly, voice sounding like whispers on skin. You looked up to see him smiling at you fondly, as if he is remembering a distant memory.

You cleared your throat before nodding. "Thank you. I'll change to this tonight. Please say thanks to Renjun as well."

Haechan gave you his signature smile and clasped his hands behind his back.

"No problem. We'll check on you tomorrow again. Goodnight, noona."

You were about to close the door when you suddenly stopped halfway as you remembered something.

"Oh, sorry. Another thing."

The boy turned back to you to give you a questioning look. You smiled at him apologetically.

"Can I ask to have some of my medications? I don't know who has it but I think Taeyong was handed my prescription. It's just that, my head is hurting again so I’d like to take some before going to sleep…"

Haechan's brows raised slightly at the realization.

"Oh, Taeyong-hyung hasn't visited you yet then? Ah… I think it's because he is still busy with Chenle. I can get them for you, noona."

"Will that be okay? Really sorry for asking this."

"Stop apologizing, it's fine," he winked and you managed to return it with a grateful smile. "I'll look for Taeyong-hyung and bring you your meds. Maybe you can get changed for now."

"Thank you, Haechan."

"I'll be back," he nodded before turning on his heels again, a spring on his step. 

------- "Shhh… sweetie, don't cry. You know I don't like it when you do that, right?"

A woman bent over a boy not older than seven who was currently cowering against the shadowed corner of the room. The space didn't have any lights on, but the sliver of moonlight that passed between the small crack of curtains shone on the tear-streaked face of the child. The female in front of him gently reached out for his face, cradling his cheeks lovingly between long, slender fingers.

"Look at you, you look like a mess now… stop crying, okay?" Her voice was soft and angelic when she spoke, enough to calm down the sobs wrecking the thin frame of the child before her. The boy gave a small nod which made her smile, her dainty features glowing with happiness.

"Very good. Now… you do know we have to go through this, right? You've been a bad boy so you leave me with no other choice."

The child froze in fear but softened his stance after a few heartbeats. He mumbled softly, trying his best to keep his voice from breaking.

"Yes… mother."

The woman's expression remained somber, as if she was in pain. She gently moved her hand to run her thumb over the boy's cheek, wetting her sharp fingernail with his tears.

"You do know that even if it will hurt, mother still loves you a lot, right? Mama is doing this because she cares for you a lot and she wants you to be good... my sunshine... my precious, precious boy…"

Her soothing voice mixed with her words made the boy stop crying entirely. Instead, his eyes shone with pure adoration for her.

"Yes, mama… I know that."

The lady smiled. Her eyes scanned the features of the child momentarily before finally letting her hand holding his face drop to her side. Slowly, she straightened up again to her full height, but not before grabbing for something from the floor beside her. The moonlight caught it before it got swallowed by the darkness of the room again—a leather belt so thin it almost looks like a whip.

The woman raised her hand gracefully above her head before giving one last loving smile at the boy on the floor.

"Now, try not to scream too much… we don't want to hurt your voice."

---- Haechan softly hummed a happy tune as he walked through the wing of the house where their private quarters are. It was late at night and the rest of his brothers had retreated back into their own rooms despite all the excitement that  happened in the past few hours. His gaze touched each door as he passed them, a smile curling the tips of his lips as he did.

There are a few things that Haechan believes sets him apart from the rest of his family. He isn't as physically strong as Jeno, as charismatic as Jaemin, or as patient and quiet as Renjun. He isn't as friendly and likable as Mark, nor is he also as innocent and magnetic as Jisung and Chenle.

What Haechan is, however...is smart and cunning…

He is smart enough to always be two steps ahead of everyone and cunning enough to move the pieces that he set without having to lift a finger if he wanted to. There is a subtleness in him that doesn't make red flags flash in someone’s head unlike Jaemin does whenever he can't control his neediness, but he has enough pull to get under someone's skin if he wanted to unlike Renjun who prefers the quiet and watchful approach. Oh and Jeno? He knows how to use Jeno's strength well.

He knows it enough to suggest to his brother to give a little friendly push to the right direction—or rather, to the right cliff—so the wheel can finally move. Sure, it might hurt someone, maybe even break a bone or two, but that's normal. After all, when you love, you should be willing to hurt a little.

His hums died when he finally stopped at the last room down the hallway, mind trying to picture what's on the other side. His gaze quickly glanced at the small tray in his hands carrying a small glass of water and a variety of pills that gleamed under the dim lighting. He smiled. Finally, he raised his hand to gently tap on the oak door in front of him.

"Noona, can I come in? I have your medicine with me."

He heard a soft rustling from the other side before the door finally opened. Silently, Haechan took a calming breath and tried his best to look casual at the vision that welcomed him. Of course he was right. The dress looked perfect on her, almost as if she was the original owner of it. She looked like she stepped out from a dream… his dreams.

Oh and what he would do to keep her there.

He gave her a friendly smile now as he pushed the tray to her hands. She returned it with a grateful look before studying the oddly matched colors of pills there silently. They shone dully under the dim lighting of the hallway, as if officially warning the start of something.

Yes, Haechan believes that there are a few things that starkly sets him apart from the rest of his brothers. But if he were to choose one, he would say he is ruthless. Ruthless enough to drag someone down a little, all the while wearing that sunny smile on his face.

After all, a little nightmare won't hurt anyone.

"Don't forget to take them so you can feel better, okay noona?"

---

CHAPTER 5

A/N: Okaaay so the core four have finally been covered. Guess it’s time to ask now who is the scariest? JK. Taglist below! 

@negincho,  @jhornytrash, @jaeminhyuckiii, @jungwoosswhore, @jsturkey, @aj–7, @pukupukupawpau, @tomiesgirlfren, @vsszn, @those-winternights​, ---

[missmorosis]

sick manager :)

-> feat. sugawara and kuroo

part 1 with bokuto, oikawa, and tsukishima here!

genre: fluff!

synopsis: y/n, the manager of her school’s volleyball team, finds herself sick after days of hard  work, yet she still goes to school to support her team~ 

warnings: the reader is sick, and she passes out in kuroo’s scenario :))

pairings: sugawara x reader, kuroo x reader (separate!!)

total word count: 1.5k

a/n: OKAY SO HAHHSLKDFJ RIGHT WHEN I WAS WRITING THIS CHAPTER I GOT SICK W/ A FEVER- I THINK I JINXED MYSELF OMG

i tried to make the scenario KINDA different, but with the same idea hehe

anYWAYS i’m so sorry if this makes like zero sense AHSLDKF- i wrote a lot while i was sick SO ill blame it on fever delusion if it flops 😌

OH AND THIS IS FOR @haikyuuheartsclub ty for reading the first one and asking for a part 2 hehe <33

You getting sick was inevitable.

You knew that you were bound to get sick with all of the work you had been doing and all of the late nights you spent preparing volleyball strategies, planning practice tournaments for your team, or studying until your eyesight blurred.

Being your school's volleyball team manager was not only hard, but it was ridiculously time consuming. Not to mention that you were bombarded with schoolwork, and you had exams coming up. Your stress levels had never been higher, and you were practically living off of caffeine with the amount of sleep you were always lacking.

So when you woke up with a sick feeling and the worst headache, you weren't completely surprised. Annoyed would have been a better word.

You knew that your team was getting ready for an important tournament, so you would have to stay extra long for practice. Groaning as you got ready, you weren't sure you could make it through the day.

You sluggishly pulled on a hoodie and brushed your teeth, taking note of how warm you felt as you washed your face. Grabbing a thermometer, you quickly measured your temperature.

100.4 Fahrenheit. Not too bad... just a low-grade fever. You tried to shrug it off and ignored how disgusting your body felt. You slung a backpack over your shoulder and walked out the door, heading to school.

You waited at the bus stop, shaking your head to try and make the sickness go away. When the bus arrived a while later, you plopped down onto the closest seat and you couldn’t stop your eyes from closing. You were just so... tired...

You drifted off to sleep, the soft sound of the bus driving across the road comforting you.

...

“Uh, Y/N?” Someone was shaking your side, and you immediately lifted your head from the bus window you were leaning on. It seemed like you just closed your eyes a second ago... where were you now?

"Mm?" you hummed sleepily, blinking slowly. You rubbed your eyes as the sunlight filtered through the window, and it made you feel warmer than you already felt.

"Hey, sorry to wake you, but we’re already at school." You looked outside, and he was right; you saw Karasuno in the near distance. 

Your brain processed the fact that Sugawara, a third year from Karasuno’s volleyball team, was sitting next to you. You saw his blurred figure lean next to you, and he brushed some hair out of your face. His fingers grazed against your forehead, but he quickly froze. 

"Y/N- Y/N! Why is your forehead so hot?" He studied your face with concerned eyes, noticing how tired you looked.

"Hm? No, it’s not. It wasn’t that high when I checked... probably the sunlight..." you mumbled, leaning on the back of your bus seat behind you. You put a hand on your forehead, and it confirmed that you were indeed burning up; it was considerably warmer than earlier in the morning. You groaned and got up.

"You don’t look too good, don't you think you should go home-" Sugawara started, but you interrupted him.

"No, you need your manager today, you guys have a game soon," you said, your tone tired but strict. Sugawara eyed you anxiously, but you waved him off. "I'll be fine," you reassured him. Grabbing your backpack, you got up from your seat, heading for the bus’ exit.

Woah.

You knew you were sick, but you didn't think you would be this dizzy. Everything seemed to sway to one side, and you put one arm on the seat of the bus, leaning on it for support. You rested your head on your arm, and you felt Sugawara’s arm wrapping around you for support.

“Alright, now you have no choice. You’re taking a break, whether you like it or not, clearly something’s not okay,” he told you, and you were too lightheaded to argue. You just nodded along and he helped you back into your seat. 

You clutched your head as you tried to make everything go away. Sugawara went to talk to the bus driver in the background, and miraculously, the driver made an exception for you.

“We’re ahead of schedule anyways,” the bus driver reasoned. He turned the bus around, heading back towards your house.

“Okay, now that that’s done, you can sleep if you want to. You could probably use the rest, I can only imagine how tired you are...” Sugawara said softly, and you gave a small nod. You scooted further down into the seats, making enough space for the boy to sit next to you. He gladly obliged, and he couldn’t help but smile at the sight of you drifting off to sleep. Your head subconsciously drifted onto his shoulder, but he didn’t mind.

“Hey, Koushi?” you mumbled, your voice coated with sleepiness.

“Yeah? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing... I just wanted to thank you.” Your eyes remained closed, and Sugawara couldn’t tell if the blush on your face was from your fever... or something else? 

“You need to take breaks, you know. You work really hard, it’s a wonder you haven’t dropped dead yet,” he said, half jokingly. “Thank you.” You smiled, and finally fell asleep.

Kuroo found you in the classrooms; your head was down, and your headache was terrible. You were almost asleep; you were trying your best to stay awake, and you weren't sure how long you could keep it up.

He was walking down the halls, casually glancing into your classroom to see if you were finished, and he softly smiled at the sight of you.

"Tired, Y/N?" Kuroo asked, smirking as he tapped your shoulder.

"Hm?" You lifted your head up, surprised at the unexpected touch. "Oh- Kuroo, shut up," you replied, rolling your eyes as you stretched. He laughed and grabbed your backpack for you, slinging it over his own shoulder.

“Ready for practice?” he asked, looking down at you. You nodded, and the two of you walked to the gym.

Your head was killing you with every step you took, but you had no choice but to ignore it. You looked to the distance, trying to ease your headache. Kuroo’s voice was slowly melting into background noise. 

Suddenly you froze and stopped walking, earning a curious glance from Kuroo. You were forgetting something...

“Wait- where’s my... backpack?” You spotted it on the boy next to you, and you shook your head. “Sorry, forgot that you had it,” you said, with a sheepish laugh.

“Something wrong?” he frowned. “You’re acting distracted... more distracted than usual, anyways.” You shook your head, deciding to keep your sickness to yourself.

“I’m good, just tired,” you assured him. He nodded slowly, and walked into the gym, you following close behind.

Only you, Kuroo, and the coaches were in the gym; you were early. You flashed a quick smile as you waved hello.

"Great, you guys are early. I have a couple strategies to discuss," the coach said, gesturing to a whiteboard in front of him. The two of you nodded, and he began to explain.

"Alright... if we're going to win this next match..." he started, but you couldn't make yourself pay attention. The only thing on your mind was how your head wouldn't stop hurting, everything seemed to echo, and just overall how sick you felt.

"What do you think, Y/N?" Kuroo asked, quirking an eyebrow in your direction. You snapped out of your sleepy state at the sound of your name.

“Wha-” You blinked, looking around at all of the eyes on you. You tried to remember what the others were talking about... oh. Strategies. Right. "I just think we... we need to..." You looked at thr whiteboard, but you couldn't focus. You swayed to one side, blinking hard. The world really seemed like it was tilting to one side... "Woah, sorry-" you tried to say.

"Y/N?" You saw Kuroo reach out towards you as you slowly lowered down into a fetal position, resting your head on your knees. "Hey, Y/N? You okay?" You swallowed.

"Yea- yeah. Just... give me a second," you breathed. You felt Kuroo kneel down next to you, and you were right; someone's arm wrapped around you for support, and you knew it was Kuroo's. You knew you were safe as you lost consciousness, falling further into his arms.

...

You awoke, and the first thought was how bright the gym lights were... they weren't this bright before...

"Oh- Y/N! You're awake," Kuroo said, rushing over to you. He put the back of his hand on your forehead. "You're still burning..." he said with a frown.

"Sorry," you muttered. "I don't know, I've been sick all day and I guess I couldn’t handle it..."

"Why didn't you tell me you weren’t feeling well?" he asked, concern clear in his voice. You smiled softly.

"It wasn't important... besides I have manager duties to take care of," you said with a sigh.

"Not if I can help it." He picked you up in one swift motion bridal-style, smirking as you struggled to get down. "I'm not letting you down; I'm taking you home and getting you some proper medicine for this fever of yours. Health is more important than volleyball." You huffed and flopped into his arms in defeat.

"Fine." You leaned closer into Kuroo's chest, and he smiled, satisfied with your surrender.

"That's my girl." You rolled your eyes, but you couldn't help but smile.

A/N: THESE WERE NOT THE BEST- I ADMIT BDHDDJNDJEW

hopefully these weren't too bad though-

haikyuu taglist: (send an ask to get added hehe) @floralkawa <3

MWAHH THANK YOU FOR READING!!

[thatwritingho]

Kloktober Day 20- Use an OC/Self-insert

As much as I would have liked to come up with something new for this, I simply don't have the energy, so I picked a couple scenes I already have written from an upcoming Dethwedding chapter! Couldn't decide if I wanted to post the bit with Seth or the one with Amber, so I went with both!

⚠️Content warning for a very brief, non detailed mention of a past s*icide attempt⚠️

"C'n I bum a smoke?"

Olive tensed, but handed off the pack and lighter to Seth as he leaned against the wall next to her. Inhaling a long drag, he stuffed the lighter sloppily into the cardboard, which wasn't quite empty enough to fit, irritation pricking at her as he handed back the bent pack.

"Thanks."

"Mmhm."

The dude was drunk. His face was flushed, eyes unfocused, hair tousled as he leaned heavily against the wall for support to keep from swaying, damp spot on his sweater vest from a spilled drink.

"Ya c'n come in, yanno. Don't hafta stay oot here'n da cold 'n shit. Jes' cuz yer a bodyguard doctor 'er whatever don't mean ya can't party too."

Olive grinned at his rambling, his heavy accent, and shrugged, "I'm good, thank you though. Strip clubs aren't my thing."

Seth furrowed his brow, the information seeming to not compute.

"What, ya don't like chicks?"

"Didn't say that."

"Den why?"

"Don't like people."

Seth puffed up at that, posture turning defensive.

"What, ya think yer better'n us? Jest cuz yer, fuckin'... workin' fer fuckin' Dethklok?"

Olive snorted and rolled her eyes as Seth stumbled over to stand in front of her, leaning down to try to catch her eyes.

"Dude, you're trashed. Calm down. I just don't like crowds."

Seth calmed immediately, stumbling a bit before leaning his shoulder heavily on the wall next to her, close enough she could feel the heat from his breath, her nose scrunching at the smell of cheap cologne and booze radiating from him.

"Oh. Yeah. Yah doo seem kinda shy."

Olive bristled, narrowing her eyes, "I'm not shy. Just, you know, introverted."

"Innit dat da same thing?"

"No."

"Oh. Okee. 'f yuh say so."

Seth was looking hard at her, but Olive remained gazing forward, doing her best to ignore his probing stare until she couldn't stand it any longer.

"You need something, man?"

"...Pickles likes you."

"Yeah? Duh. Of course, we're frien-"

"No, babe, no. He likes yew."

Olive rolled her eyes, dropping the butt to the ground and stamping it out with her heel.

"Uh huh. Sure. Whatever."

"No, seriously! I'm his fuckin' brother, I c'n tell. He always gets dose fuckin'... goo goo eyes when he looks at a chick he likes. Always has."

Olive snorted dismissively again, but couldn't help the smile tugging up her lips at his insistence.

"You're reading too much into it."

"Nah, babe, 'm naht," Seth seemed to just now remember he was smoking, looking at the half burned cigarette with a start before sucking in a deep drag, "...yew like him?"

"We're not having this conversation."

"Ah, c'mahn. I fuckin' guarantee he's gonna ask ya to fuckin' marry him, so dat makes us, like, basically siblings, right? Ya c'n tell me."

Olive rolled her eyes with a grin, giggling at his ridiculous suggestion.

"Dude, you're so far off base, it's, like, almost not even funny."

"Nah, I'm naht. Whatever. Yah ain't gotta say it, I c'n tell."

"Sure, man. Whatever you want to believe."

Silence settled over them as Seth finished off his cigarette, still staring at her, and Olive shifted uncomfortably.

"Can you, like, look at something else?"

"Why?"

"Because you're making me uncomfortable."

Seth cocked his head and blinked, but turned to lean his back to the wall, eyes now trained forward.

"Sahrry."

"It's fine."

Silence settled over them, and Olive shook out another smoke, wordlessly offering one to Seth, who took it with a grunt of thanks.

"I like ya."

"Huh?"

Seth fumbled with the lighter, struggling to get the flame to stay long enough for him to inhale.

"Yanno. Pickles seems fuckin' happy er whatever when yer around. Kinda reminds me a' me 'n Amber."

Olive didn't know what to say, instead breathing in a deep inhale to give herself something to focus on. She prayed he couldn't see her blush in the dimly lit parking lot.

"I think yer good fer him. Better'n that last chick he was with, fer sure. Fuckin', Tara, 'er whatever. Real fuckin' bitch, really fucked him up. But yew…" Seth was in front of her again, pointing at her with a dumb grin on his face, "...I like yew. Yer cool."

"...um, thanks, I guess. But we're not-"

Seth sighed dramatically and rolled his eyes, interrupting her protest.

"Look. I know how he is. Fuckin, scared a' relationships 'n shit. But I swear he likes ya. Like, a lot."

"Whatever you say, man."

"...don't break his heart, ok? C'n ya prahmise me dat?"

Olive blinked at him with wide eyes, "...what?"

"Yanno. I don't wanna have to go visit him in another fuckin' hospital like after Tara left him," Seth sighed, rubbing a hand over his face, voice dropping to nearly a whisper, "don' wanna have to fuckin'... bury my little brother, yanno."

Shaking his head, he took one last drag of his cigarette, dropping the butt to the ground, not bothering to tamp it out.

"I don't think yer a bad girl 'er nuthin, but… Jus... jus tell me yer naht gonna hurt him."

"...I won't hurt him. I promise."

"Good. Good. Okee. Yeah. I- I'm gonna go, go get a lap dance."

Seth began to stumble back towards the door, but paused, turning back to her, "Don't, don't tell him I said none a dis, okee? He don't like when I meddle in his life."

"Ok."

Seth grinned big, giving her a thumbs up, "Thanks. Yer fuckin golden, babe."

Olive couldn't help but snort, rolling her eyes as he stumbled back inside.

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

"Hey."

The brunette took a few moments before looking up from her phone, raising a brow at the girl sliding into the seat across from her.

"...hey."

"Mind if I sit with you for a minute?"

"...sure."

Amber gave the doctor/bodyguard hybrid of her now borther-in-law an appraising look, not knowing what could have prompted the woman to seek her out. This was, afterall, the first person to come talk to her at her own wedding reception.

Hardly any of Amber's own family had shown, most of them still living back in Hanoi and unable(or just unwilling) to make the trip. And Seth's family, well... To say they disapproved of him marrying her would be an understatement. To them, she was just the forgiener stripper Seth happened to knock up, and they all saw her as unworthy to marry into their perfect little average midwestern family.

Olive gestured to the bride's phone with her eyes.

"Am I interrupting?"

Amber glanced down to the screen. No new messages. She shook her head.

"Ok. Cool."

An awkward silence settled over the pair, and Amber watched as the girl fidgeted in her seat, awkwardness rolling off her in waves. When no new messages came through, Amber decided to break the ice a bit, venturing a compliment.

"Nice necklace."

"Oh, thank you," subconsciously, Olive's eyes flicked to Pickles as she gently touched the string of dark pearls. Empty beer and liquor bottles littered the table surrounding him, and he lay slouched over, head down. Frowning, she fiddled with the beads, chest tightening. She should get back to him soon.

Amber followed her gaze and grinned knowingly as she saw the worry in the other woman's eyes. Nodding in the redhead's direction, the bride questioned, "He get it for you?"

Olive's eyes widened comically, and Amber grinned wider, lowering her phone and sitting up fully, interest piqued.

"I… well, I mean, yeah, but-"

Amber raised a brow, "But what? He either gave it to you or he didn’t."

Olive swallowed, tongue ring scraping the back of her teeth, knowing exactly what Amber was assuming.

"Yeah."

"Hm, thought so," phone finally vibrating, Amber typed a quick reply, then turned her attention back to the conversation at hand, "so you two a thing?"

Cheeks reddening, Olive shook her head, downing a large gulp of champagne, "No. We're not. We're just, well, I mean, he's my boss-"

"So you're fucking."

It wasn't a question.

Olive gaped, mouth opening and closing, face coloring further as she struggled for a response.

Amber rolled her eyes, "That's a yes," attention drawn back to her phone, she typed another response as Olive sat there awkwardly, trying to avoid making eye contact with anyone in the room.

"Don't have to act like I just shouted it from the rooftops. I already knew."

Blinking in confusion, Olive furrowed her brow, "How?"

"...I'm married to his brother."

"Oh. Right," Olive blinked, shaking her head a little, taking another sip of champagne, "I, um, didn't think they talked much."

Amber shrugged, "They don't. Seth wanted to fuck you, but he thought you were a lesbian, so he asked Pickles first."

"I- sorry, what?"

"Yeah, I know. I told him you were obviously bi, but he didn’t believe me," Amber winked, "He doesn't know about the lemon bars."

Olive grinned, "So then you're… ok with that?"

"We're in an open relationship, yes."

"Ah," nodding, relief washed over Olive. It was always nice to meet someone else who was polyam. Made her feel like less of a freak. But even so… the brother's relationship was strained at best, and the last thing she wanted was to cause more of a rift. Not that she and Pickles were together, but… 

But it would still make him uncomfortable. Her mind wandered to their previous night's conversation, Pickles lamenting his brother always being the one acknowledged, the one everyone accepted, the one who received all the love and affection from their parents, while Pickles was left an outcast and a bane in his own family. And her sleeping with Seth? Well… even if it was far from the truth, it wouldn't be a stretch to assume Pickles' would see that as a betrayal, as her choosing his brother over him, as her attempting to compare him to Seth.

It would hurt him. 

And Olive never wanted to hurt him.

"No offense to you or Seth, but I really shouldn't…"

Amber waved her hand dismissively, responding to another text, "None taken. Don't worry about it. Pickles already shot that down anyway."

"Huh?" Olive scrunched her nose lightly, and Amber smiled at the sight. 

Seth wasn't wrong. What a cutie.

"When Seth asked, Pickles threatened to kill him. Cut his dick off with a chainsaw and shove it down his throat or something like that. It was kind of a dead giveaway that there's something going on."

Olive bit her lip, trying to contain the smile threatening to take over her face, butterflies in her stomach acting up at the thought of Pickles being protective over her.

Amber grinned knowingly as Olive sat there with her barely contained glee, propping her chin in her hand as she eyed the other woman, taking in her pretty face and round cheeks and dark eyes, letting her gaze wander to the small amount of cleavage exposed from her slouched posture.

"You know, Seth isn't the only one interested…"

Olive looked like a deer in the headlights at that, and Amber gave her a coy smile.

"Don't give me an answer now. No rush. But maybe someday?"

Olive flushed, but nodded, flattered by the attention.

Amber was really, really hot.

"Yeah. Maybe," tucking a stray curl that had been tickling her cheek behind her ear, Olive grew warm under Amber's heavy gaze, shifting lightly in her seat, "um, I should really get back…"

Amber hummed, nodding her head in the drummer's direction, "Yeah, go make sure he doesn’t pass out, or drown in his own vomit or anything."

Olive gave a humorless laugh, standing, and smiled at Amber, "It was nice talking to you. And, um, congratulations and all that."

"Yeah, thanks," Amber gave another wink, endlessly amused at how easy it was to make this girl blush, "See you around, sweetheart."

"Yeah, see ya."

Olive took a couple steps, then stopped, turning back to Amber.

"Oh, I almost forgot."

Digging around in her bag for a second, Olive pulled forth an envelope made of thick, sturdy paper, sliding it over the table to the bride. 

Amber raised a manicured brow. 

"Your wedding gift from Dethklok. You're real one."

"...which implies a fake one?"

Olive shurgged, smoothly coming up with a lie.

"...they didn't want to make a big scene, you know, give you guys a big, expensive present and make all the other guests feel bad in comparison. The one in the box is just a decoy."

Amber gave her a look, not really believing that Dethklok of all people wouldn't want to make a scene, though she supposed it possible.

"...is that so?"

"Yeah."

Amber hummed, suspicious, flipping the envelope back and forth, before glancing back to the woman across from her. 

"Mind if I..?"

"Go ahead."

Olive smiled to herself as the contents of the card spilled to the table, Amber's eyes widening at the plane tickets and brochure.

Fiji. She never dreamed she could ever go somewhere so beautiful.

"Hope you don't have honeymoon plans yet."

Amber blinked, unfolding the brochure with hesitance, like she was expecting it to be a trick, for Olive to say "sike!" and pull it away at any moment.

Olive's heart broke a little at the implication.

"No, we… we don't."

"Good. It's all expenses paid, all arrangements are already in place. There will be staff at the beach house to attend to anything you need."

"I- thank you."

Olive grinned and winked, "No need to thank me, I'm just the messenger. It was nice talking to you."

"Yeah. You too."

Amber observed as Olive turned and strided over to her new brother-in-law, gently rubbing over his shoulders to rouse him, scooting her chair close to his as he righted himself, fixing his awful dread combover that had fallen out of place. The dude looked rough, with bags under his red eyes, a drunkard's flush over his nose and cheeks. Hopefully his little nap would help him sober up faster. They spoke softly to each other for a minute, seemingly lost in their own little bubble, and then both rose, Olive slipping her arm through Pickles' own, allowing him to lean on her as she lead him stumbling outside.

They were cute together, strangely enough. Amber wondered, idly, when Pickles would grow the balls to ask her out.

Maybe she'd make a bet out of it with Seth. 

Speaking of…

Amber glanced down again to the tickets in her hands, smile growing wide.

Where the hell was her dumbass husband?

[yehet-about-it]

Chase Me | Part 17 - Lock The Door Next Time

⇐ || ☆ Masterlist ☆ || ⇒

🎮👾 ~ The Boyz Social Media AU ~ 👾🎮

"Twitching" is a British term used to mean "the pursuit of a previously located rare bird." In North America it is more often called chasing...

Pairings: Changmin x Reader, Sunwoo x Reader

Warnings: 17+, language, some smut in later chapters, fuckboy!sunwoo 😉

Updates Tuesday, Thursday, Saturday & Sunday @ 9pm GMT/1pm PST

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*･ﾟ✧･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*･ﾟ✧･ﾟ

Word Count: 3.1k (I am SO sorry... although I'm kind of not bc I lowkey love this chapter) Warnings: Mature content, may involve maStUrBaTioN, a whole lot of embarrassment and Chanhee having the time of his goddamn life bc its not him in the awkward situation for once 🙃

You sighed, dropping your unreasonably heavy camera bag on the table as you walked into the living room, Chanhee in close pursuit looking equally as tired. You’d spent several long hours at a shoot for a new project you’d been hired to do and had come back to the boys’ apartment to do some editing before you called it quits for the day.

“Should we order food now?” You called out as Chanhee went to his room to unload his gear and fetch his macbook for editing. You knew you needed to work but you hadn’t eaten since the morning and you couldn’t stop the thoughts of takeout food swirling around in your head. “Mm, the Chinese?” Chanhee replied sitting down across the table. “Can you go and ask Changmin if he wants anything while I set this up? He’s probably in his room.”

You nodded happily, perking up at the prospect of food and left Chanhee to upload the photos from the day whilst you went off in search of Changmin. He wasn’t in their gaming room as you walked by so you continued down the corridor towards his room. As you neared his door you could hear a murmur, and coming to a stop outside the room you recognised your name being called by Changmin, only it was ever so quiet, barely audible through the wood of the door, so you figured maybe it was just him registering your presence. Assuming he’d realised you were there, you swung the door open not quite expecting the scene that was presented before you. Changmin was sat on his bed, propped up against the pillows with his lips parted, hair hanging low in front of his eyes, and scanning further down you saw that his sweatpants were bunched low on his hips as his hand gripped what appeared to be a very hard erection. You let out a shriek as you realised what you had stumbled upon, immediately slamming the door back shut and racing down the corridor before Changmin even had chance to react.

“Oh my god, oh my god.” You repeated it like a mantra, your heart pounding from the shock as you slid back into the living room and into your chair opposite New. “What the hell’s wrong with you?” Chanhee asked in bewilderment looking at you as though you’d just committed the 7 deadly sins. “I should have knocked!” you squeaked burying your face in your palms in total, unfathomed embarrassment. You took a deep breath trying to calm yourself, but the image of Changmin’s hand wrapped snugly around his length, pleasuring himself as he uttered your name was well and truly burned into your brain.

“What? Why?” Chanhee asked, a puzzled expression forming from his features. “He- oh my word- he was- touchi- Ugh I can’t say it!” you whined. “He wasn’t…? Oh my god...” Eventually realising what had happened, a hysterical fit of laughter erupted from your best friends throat as you hid behind your hands, your cheeks most definitely flushed with the brightest pink. “Oh my god that idiot” Chanhee cackled, tears starting to form in the corners of his eyes from the sheer force of his laughter. You sank down in your chair a pained smile on your face as you couldn’t help but be affected by Chanhee’s reaction. “Chanhee what am I gonna do? I’ll never be able to look him in the eye again!” You wailed, the howling starting to dye down as Chanhee regained his composure. “Not my problem” Chanhee teased. “I’ll make it your problem” you replied stroppily, whacking him lightly on the arm in annoyance. “Ow!” Chanhee clutched his arm in feigned pain before proceeding to laugh at you once again. “It’s not funny Chanhee! This is so awkward!”

You had by now gotten over the initial shock of seeing one of your longest friends exposed like that, and now you were wondering how the hell you were gonna get over the awkwardness of the situation. But most of all, you were wondering why the hell he’d been moaning your name of all names and what that meant. Not that you were going to mention that to New. That would open a whole new can of worms and lead this conversation down a whole new road that you didn’t particularly want to explore, as well as give Chanhee even more ammunition for further teasing.

“That’s exactly why it IS funny.” Chanhee chided, whipping his phone out, presumably either to tease Changmin or get the Chinese menu up, or both. “Guess he won’t be joining us for the Chinese then?” You rolled your eyes at Chanhee’s teasing (though also legitimate) question. “Well it’s not like I stuck around to ask.” You crossed your arms as you gave Chanhee a warning glare. “Fine, I’ll ask him then.” He said, and your phone lit up on the table a moment later – of course he’d mentioned it in your group chat.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*･ﾟ✧･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*･ﾟ✧･ﾟ

Changmin had heard Chanhee’s cackling from his room at the other end of the apartment and had been mentally cursing for the duration, his face perhaps an even brighter shade of scarlet than yours. Of all of the awkward things to happen, the girl he liked and one of his best friends walking in while he was halfway to climax thinking about her had to be the most unfortunate. Firstly there was the problem of how he’d ever look you in the eye again, but secondly was the problem that remained below his waistline. You walking in hadn’t helped that of course. If it had been Chanhee or Kevin walking in, his stiffness would have gone in a split second, but despite the embarrassment of what had just happened, his length remained taut against his boxers which he’d quickly pulled back up in shock after your momentary appearance. He was no longer in the mood to continue, too worried about what you might be thinking, so he decided his only option was to go for a cold shower in the hope that that might fix it.

Before he had the chance to hop in however, his phone buzzed, showing a text from New. He groaned as he read the older boys words, knowing that he’d never live this down whining again when he realised the texts were sent not just to him but to your group chat. Thankfully Changmin had already eaten, although he wouldn’t mind a bit of Chinese, but given the current awkwardness he decided to pass up on the offer for food. He would probably be able to face you later but if he ordered food he’d have to sit with you to eat it, and the embarrassment was stilll far too fresh for that to be a comfortable affair, so he quickly typed out his reply and hopped in the shower to deal with the problem beneath his pants.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*･ﾟ✧･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*･ﾟ✧･ﾟ

An hour or so later you and Chanhee had just about finished your editing for the day and were tucking into your food, but you still hadn’t heard a peep out of Changmin. You sighed, finishing your bowl of jajangmyeon, feeling a little guilty that Changmin wasn’t sharing in the joys of your takeout food, all because you’d been dumb enough not to knock. “Hm maybe I should take him something” you sighed looking across all the cartons of food you’d ordered. Maybe he had actually eaten already, but there was so much, and you were sure he’d like some. “You’re not going to eat all that are you?” You asked Chanhee, nodding to the half full box of kkanpunggi in the middle. Chanhee just shrugged. “You sure you want to go back in there?” He sniggered as he asked the question, deliberately trying to provoke you. “No I am not, but I’m not going to avoid him forever just because I’ve seen his dick” you declared defiantly, making Chanhee almost spit out his boba as he doubled over in laughter. However awkward you were feeling, you’d have to face each other eventually. Normally you wouldn’t be so thrown off by something like this, for instance, you’d once accidentally walked in on Kevin going at it with someone one time when you’d stayed over at Sunwoo’s, but you’d just greeted it with an ew and laughed about it later. The only thing that had you feeling so utterly flustered was the sound of him uttering your name whilst he was clearly having some ‘time to himself’, but since you figured he wouldn’t necessarily be aware you’d heard that, you decided you’d be able to brush it off for now and pretend like everything was just peachy.

“Well just remember to knock this time” Chanhee quipped as you stood up, taking the box of spicy garlic fried chicken with you, picking up some of the spare chopsticks the restaurant had sent too. You grinned sarcastically at Chanhee, your eyes silently telling him he was an asshole, before disappearing off down the hall to Changmin’s room, praying that he’d be fully tucked into his pants this time. “Changmin? Can I come in?” you called as you knocked tentatively on his door. You heard some shuffling and low muttering before he answered with an uncertain “sure”.

Swinging the door open for the second time this evening you were relieved to see Changmin perched on his bed, fully clothed with an xbox controller in his lap and his headset to the side of him. You saw the overwatch character select screen flickering brightly on his tv screen too so you could only assume he was playing online with someone. “Oh you’re playing? Who’s on?” you asked quietly as you walked a couple of steps into the room, the carton of kkanpunggi still in hand. “Uh, just Eric.” Changmin replied, his eyes darting around the room as he struggled to make eye contact with you, for understandable reasons. “Hi Eric!” You sang loudly so he could hear you through the microphone. Though it was quiet, only coming from Changmin’s headset you heard a faint chuckle and Eric’s voice returning the greeting. “I brought you some kkanpunggi, I thought you might like some, it’s really good” you said, turning your attention back to the boy actually in the room.

Changmin’s expression softened watching as you stood there, proudly holding up the box of chicken and chopsticks. Even after what happened you were still thoughtful enough to bring him nice food so he wouldn’t miss out. What he wouldn’t give to be able to just pull you onto his lap and feed one other the delicious food, cleaning up any stray sauce with kisses. In his dreams he thought.

“Awh how come he gets chicken?” Eric whined through the headphones pulling Changmin out of his daydream. “KEVIN-HYUNG CAN WE GET CHICKEN?!” The sudden loudness of the younger boy through the headphones made you giggle, and you shared an amused look with Changmin. As bizarre as it was though, you were rather grateful for Eric’s random inputs which actually seemed to have the effect of relieving some of the tension in the room.

“Yah be quiet! I’m not even wearing my headphones and that hurt my ears!” Changmin called towards his headset shutting the younger boy up with an insincere sorry. “Oh it smells good, thank you y/n!” Changmin smiled sweetly at you as you placed the box down on the side table next to his bed. “That’s okay!” You replied, moving a few steps away again before looking nervously towards Changmin’s headset. You wanted to apologise for your earlier intrusion to get it out of the way, but you definitely didn’t want Eric to be witness to that, so you lowered your voice to a whisper. “Oh um, so I’ll be leaving in a bit, I just wanted to say sorry for earlier, I um- I should probably have knocked before I came in.”

Changmin could feel the heat rising in his cheeks being reminded of the earlier incident and although his hair mostly covered it, the tips of his ears were now definitely a blazing pink. “Oh-“ He was frankly a little stuck for words. He’d been sat in his room for the better part of an hour rehearsing what he might say to you in his head, but now you’d come in here to apologise, with chicken no less, he didn’t really have an answer for you. “Uh- it’s okay,” he mumbled. “Sorry you had to see that.”

Before it could get too awkward however, you snickered as you heard Eric and Kevin clearly having an argument about chicken faintly through the headphones still laying next to Changmin and you thanked your lucky stars that they evidently weren’t listening to you and Changmin’s awkward exchange. “Well I promise I’ll knock next time.” Changmin chuckled, running a hand sheepishly through his hair as you moved back toward the door. “I’ll let you get back to the game if those two ever stop arguing, I’ll see you later yeah?”

Changmin nodded and said goodbye as you slipped out to return to the dining table where New sat, a mischievous glint in his eye as he grinned at you. “On a scale of 1 to Eric talking to girls, just how awkward was he?” He asked, clearly trying to stifle his laughter. “Shut up New” you scoffed as you began picking up the empty food cartons to throw in the trash. This little shit was gonna milk this out for as long as possible and you weren’t here for it. “Well at least you didn’t scream and run out this time” he bantered, only to be met with a look of pure contempt from you as he passed you one of the empty food containers. “I am this close to pouring this black bean sauce all over that new balenciaga t-shirt Chanhee” you threatened holding out a carton that had the remains of some sauce wobbling about in the bottom. Chanhee jumped back covering his shirt with his hands, knowing that it wasn’t an empty threat from another time he’d pissed you off and you threw half a cup of peach tea all over him. It was a waste of the tea, but he’d had it coming. “That’s what I thought.” You proclaimed before disappearing into the kitchen to dispose of the containers.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*･ﾟ✧･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*･ﾟ✧･ﾟ

On your way home your head was filled with all kinds of thoughts about what you’d unintentionally just witnessed. All you really wanted to do was relax after a long day of work and carrying heavy equipment around, but all you could think about was your name on Changmin’s lips and what the hell it meant. Was it just an accident? Or if it wasn’t, did that confirm everything that Kevin had been telling you? Did Changmin really like you? There had been an undeniable vibe between you for the past few weeks, what with the increasing amount of time you spent together and the intimate moment on the roof last night, but until this weekend, you hadn’t thought about it much, your mind largely preoccuppied with your anger towards Sunwoo.

Your mind flipped through your memories with Changmin as you sat on the tube, trying to make sense of everything, and as you did so, it dawned on you. Kevin was right. Changmin liked you. Perhaps that was even what he had tried to tell you the previous night before Jeju had abruptly cut him off. You recalled all the times Changmin had sat with you and listened to you rant about Sunwoo, the way he’d been so angry the day after that one fateful party, and how he’d always been there waiting for you with a hug when you were down. It was a wonder you’d never realised it before. Perhaps Changmin’s warm presence in your life had just become so natural you never thought anything of it, but it was becoming increasingly clear that this wasn’t just two friends looking out for eachother. No, it was more than that.

You felt a heat in your chest as you processed this revelation, trying to make sense of your own feelings. You adored Changmin, but then who didn’t? The way his dimples made him look like the sweetest angel whenever he smiled, the way his eyes lit up whenever he discovered something really interesting, the way he couldn’t stop himself from giggling even at the most inappropriate moments. It was impossible not to like him. But then not everybody knew him like you. They didn’t have your relationship. Changmin had always been there for you, even though it was Chanhee you called your best friend and Sunwoo he called his. He always seemed to know exactly what you needed – when to give you space, when to give you hugs or when to make you laugh so hard you cried. Upon reflection, there was no one who came close to making you feel as happy and comfortable as Changmin did. You couldn’t think of a single occasion he hadn’t made you smile and you slowly began to realise… Was it possible… that you liked him too?

Then the thoughts of Sunwoo swarmed your mind. Did he know Changmin was into you? No of course not. They weren’t on the best of terms right now but you imagined it would be a hell of a lot worse if he did know his best friend was infatuated with his ex-girlfriend. If anything were to happen between you and Changmin, Sunwoo would be outraged for certain. But maybe that was what he deserved. He’d lost the right to an opinion on your life when he tried to get back with you by sleeping with you when you were drunk. Although perhaps falling for his best friend was a little far…

You leaned your head back against the glass of the subway train, sighing as your mind replayed the memory of Changmin’s breathless expression as his hand gripped his manhood. You kind of wished it would stop, not wanting the embarrassment of getting so worked up in public, but you just couldn’t tear your thoughts away from it. After your newfound revelation, you were getting dangerously close to imagining what had been happening before you walked in, and what sort of things he might have been thinking of doing – you nearly missed your stop in your dazed state but thankfully the announcement pulled you out of your thoughts and you rushed to the doors just in time to hop off before they closed and the train sped off into the distance, away from you and your insurmountable dilemma.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*･ﾟ✧･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*･ﾟ✧･ﾟ

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Because Two People Got Drunk: 35

Chapter 35

Series Masterlist

A/N: Thank you to the anon who gave a suggestion for this. I honestly hadn’t considered it in the story; but it actually made sense given how little Fred and Y/N had spent talking about it.

Warning: Angst, swearing, mentions of cheating, smut

Word Count: 7100

You are in the lobby of the hockey arena waiting for Oliver. The twins are asleep in their stroller; you gently rocking it back and forth to help them nap. The game ended over twenty minutes ago and Fred went to the change room to help get him out of his hockey equipment.

It’s been a couple weeks since Fred’s injury; he has been home for most of it. When at the rink he has been spending his time with trainers off the ice. That was until yesterday, he managed to do a short session with the goalie coach and some basic drills but likely won’t be back until after Christmas.

You know it’s been hard for him, since that game the team fell into a slump. They have won a few games in regulation, but overall the team is struggling being outplayed and outscored. The hardest part for him is feeling completely helpless because he is sidelined.

As he started to improve he was able to spend more time with the kids; and Oliver has been loving getting all the cuddles from Fred. Today Fred decided to join you at Oliver’s hockey game.

You were a little unsure of the idea, not wanting it to be too much for him, but he reassured you he would be fine; and once Oliver heard you knew there was no way Fred wouldn’t come. After helping Oliver get in his equipment Fred told you he was beaming in the change room; his smile never fading, introducing Fred to everyone though he has already met them earlier in the season.

You look down at your watch; it’s almost 10:45, your stomach growling loudly. You ate breakfast at seven, but around now you normally would have a snack but forgot to pack something. The little baby in your belly really making the eating for two seem like a reality right now. Finally you see Fred leave the change room carrying Oliver’s hockey bag in one hand and holding his hand with his other.

Your son is practically skipping as he makes his way down the hall. As soon as he sees you he releases Fred’s hand and takes off running to you “Mommy!”

You catch him mid jump “good game buddy!” you say squeezing him.

“Did you see me?”

“Yeah you were great” you reply “you played awesome. Looked like your daddy in net” you say and he smiles at your words. The biggest compliment for him is being compared to his hero.

“Where is your dad?” you ask him realizing Fred hasn’t made his way to you.

“People wanted his picture” Oliver shrugs confused.

“Yeah people are excited to see him” you respond scanning around the hockey arena.

As soon as you sat down there was whispers and a couple kids came up asking for pictures. It’s something you have learned to get used to over the past few years.

Fred is always willing to take pictures with fans, especially kids. Every time he apologizes even though you have told him countless times you don’t mind. You love how he interacts with fans, and how taking a few minutes makes their day. While you understand how important fan engagement is, Oliver doesn’t understand the hype around it. To him Fred and all the other players are just people, normal people he knows.

“Did you see my save? The one I stopped with my stick” you hear Oliver ask and you dive into a conversation with your son about his game.

Your eyes find Fred standing with a woman and her son, who is Oliver’s age. You engage in the conversation with your son but can help and notice the large smile on her face, how her dark brown hair shines under the lights. While it’s not uncommon for Fred to talk to the parents of young fans, you notice how close she is standing and how her child doesn’t seem interested in him at all.

You gently set Oliver on the ground while the two of them continue to chat away. You drop random “uh huh” or an “oh really” but you lose all focus when you watch her hand touch his bicep while they laugh at something he said.

You swallow a lump in your throat and take a deep breath but it doesn’t stop you from feeling like the walls are shattering around you. You hear Oliver babbling away but his voice continues to fade away into the background. Your stomach almost jumps into your throat and your chest tightens. You tell yourself it’s nothing, that you don’t be concerned. And you almost believe it, that is until you watch her stroke up his arm.

“Mommy” Oliver pulls on your sleeve and grabbing your attention.

“Yeah bud” you say snapping your eyes down to his.

“I said I’m thirsty” he repeats.

“Oh” you reply with a shaky voice. You fumble into your bag and pull out your water bottle handing it to him. When you look back to where Fred was you notice he is gone and you turn your attention back to Oliver

Finally you feel the familiar touch of Fred’s hand on your back and he presses a gentle kiss to your forehead. Your entire body stiffens against his touch, you reach down to take the bottle back from Oliver to hide the real reason you pulled away.

“Ready?” he asks taking the stroller from you, while you take Oliver's hand as he skips in excitement. The drive is filled with Oliver’s excited chatter from the back seat, you stare out the window not having much to say.

Fred’s hand reaches across the car finding your stomach, slowly rubbing over your bump. You relax into the seat, Fred chuckling while Oliver rambles on about his friends on his team. You replay the scene from the arena over and over in your head, you remember she was in the stands; her son having played against Oliver. But did she look towards Fred, did his eyes wander?

“Can I mom?” Oliver calls out and Fred gently nudges you with his hand.

“Hmm what was that?” you ask being brought back from your trance.

You feel Fred glare at you from the side of his eye “Kyle said I could have a sleepover at his house” he repeats “can I?”

You chuckle slightly knowing this is one of his friends on the team, after every game or practice he always has something funny to tell you that Kyle said or did. “I’ll have to talk to his parents” you respond.

“Yeah talk to them mommy” he cheers and Fred laughs shaking his head.

“We will but not today, we have the party this afternoon” Fred says pulling into your driveway.

As soon as the car is in park Oliver jumps out the car “when’s the party daddy?”

“In a couple hours” he says grabbing Noah “after lunch.”

Oliver runs into the house leaving his boots and coat in a pile on the floor and making his way to the living room. You take the twins and follow him while Fred takes his hockey equipment to air out. You have a relaxing afternoon, Oliver plays with his Lego and various toys, the twins nap and play on their activity mat. You rest on the couch scrolling through your phone aimlessly.

Multiple times over the next few hours you feel Fred’s eyes find you. His eyes are soft but full of concern. He can sense something is wrong, but he also doesn’t know if it’s just the pregnancy dragging you down today. Instead of asking he gives you time in case you are just tired, thinking maybe you just need some time to rest.

“The boys are cute” Kathy says giving you a hug while you stand at the snack table. You laugh lightly seeing the twins in plaid shirts and vests, one of them held in Fred’s arm while Oliver immediately took off to find his friends. You didn’t dress them, Fred actually had their coats on before you came downstairs so you had no idea all your boys were matching until you got here.

He bounces them in his arms and shoots you a smile when he catches you staring. He aims them towards you and their green eyes light up when they see you. A half smile crosses your face, but Fred senses the emptiness behind it and a scowl crosses his. You look away with a displeased groan grabbing a cup.

“How are you doing?” she asks as you pour some water.

“We’ve been good; now that Fred’s symptoms are mostly gone it’s been better. Oliver loves having him around though” you respond taking a sip.

“That’s great but I asked how you are. Seems like something is going on” she says softly. “Having him at home the past few weeks should be good. You two are almost nauseating to watch sometimes. You came in after him, and haven’t spent a second beside him and don’t think I didn’t see whatever that was” her index finger pointing between the two of you.

You laugh a little and turn towards her “we’re fine” you lie.

You hear her groans as she grips your hand pulling you down the hall to the bathroom, locking the door behind you. “Spill.”

You roll your eyes and back up against the counter. Anyone else wouldn’t have given you a second glance, some would have bought your fake smiles and those that didn’t would have assumed it was hormones or exhaustion from the pregnancy. But not Kathy; she knows you too well.

You start by telling her how it’s nothing and how you are overreacting; that you are likely reading too far into it. You get into the woman at Oliver’s hockey game, how they seemed to be really close, too close. You tell her how when he said something she touched his arm and gently grazed over his muscles.

You ramble for twenty minutes and at the end finish by saying how you have no idea what they talked about. It could have been about him donating time or merchandise for a charity event; that they were so far away you couldn’t hear anything.

You expect her to tell you you’re overthinking it. That it could have been nothing, or maybe she was trying to flirt with him but that doesn’t mean anything. That you can’t get upset over what strangers do. That just because she flirted with Fred it doesn’t mean he flirted back.

Instead she takes a deep breath and walks over to you, wrapping her arms around you. She holds you for a few minutes saying nothing. The silence is deafening; you swear you feel the walls closing in around you before you finally speak.

“During the playoffs last year when I was pregnant Fred kissed someone else.”

You can tell by her silence and that her eyes not meeting yours that she already knew that.

You thought saying those words would be liberating; finally telling someone what he did. Instead you feel yourself fall apart, sobbing into her shoulder. Your hands tighten around her back, clenching on the fabric of her sweater. Your body shakes against hers; warm tears staining her shirt.

Her hands gently run up and down your back; soothing you. You grip her shirt tighter, swallowing the lump in your throat until your eyes begin to dry.

“Sounds like you and him have some stuff to talk about.”

You thought this had been left in the past, you had accepted and processed it and dealt with all your emotions. But now after watching what should have been a harmless interaction you realize you have some unresolved feelings and paranoia. Likely because you never had a dedicated conversation about everything that happened.

You basically shut Fred out for days while you processed everything. You wanted to calm down and think over everything; make sure you didn’t say something you would regret. Once you had your time you were going to invite Fred to share your bed again and begin to have the conversations needed to move on.

Then the car accident happened. Fred tried to talk with you after but at that point it didn’t seem important to you. You had long decided you were going to forgive him, and with everything that happened focusing on your recovery and the twins seemed more important than tearing open old wounds.

You and Fred should have sat down; even for a brief conversation. What happened today should have been nothing, it shouldn’t have triggered you the way it did. Fred didn’t do anything besides stop to take a picture with a child; this woman decided to touch him. And he was at your side in under a minute of that happening, making it pretty obvious he got away as quick as possible. If your trust hadn’t of become fractured seven months ago you wouldn’t be in your head right now.

Once you return to the party you feel Fred’s eyes immediately find you. He can see the redness in your eyes and the puffiness of your cheeks. He knows you have been crying, but what makes it worse is you are blocking him out. You can feel the pleading of his eyes, but you can’t bring yourself to make eye contact.

He watches while you get a snack, while you chat with some of the women. He smiles watching you and Oliver decorate stockings, part of the Christmas crafts the team has set up. He laughs watching when Oliver shakes his, spilling the excessive amount of glitter onto your lap. To everyone else you seem happy, like you are having a great night.

You feel his eyes burning a hole in you and eventually find his gaze, his entire face lights up; he thinks maybe he was right, maybe the pregnancy is just tiring you out. But Fred sees the emptiness behind your eyes, the hollowness in the half smile. You swear you hear his heart fall as you pull your eyes from him.

“You ready for Santa” you ask walking up beside Fred a few moments later; bouncing the twins in your arms. They coo in response having no idea what you are saying. But Oliver who is clinging to Fred’s neck cheers in response.

“When is Santa coming daddy?” he asks eyes lighting up.

“I heard that his sleigh landed on the roof a few minutes ago” he says and you watch as Oliver’s eyes go wide. You hear some jingling of bells and Oliver drops down eagerly running to the group of children. The entire room erupts as he walks in, but Fred places a hand on the small of your back pulling you into his chest.

“You okay?” he asks softly leaning close to your ear.

You give him a small nod in response, his breath on your neck would normally ignite your core, send a dampness between your legs but today it doesn’t. Today it irritates you but Fred doesn’t stop trying to break your walls down.

“Don’t lie to me” he says pulls Lucas from you, his hand resting gently on your hip as he places a soft kiss on your temple.

“It’s nothing” you lie shifting on your feet to pull away from him ever so slightly.

“Are we seriously going to play this game (Y/N)” he groans. “Just tell me.”

“Not here” you hiss in response.

“So it is something” he says.

“Yes” you retort. As you begin to walk away you hear Fred sigh loudly but he uses his better judgement and doesn’t follow you.

He joins you for a family picture with Santa, and even asks Sid to take the twins so the two of you can get a picture just the two of you. Apart from that he gives you space while also remaining close.

You can tell he is bothered he comes up beside you a couple times and tries to talk to you, but each time his mouth falls shut and he saunters off. He has no idea what he did, and how could he? How could he know you’re actually bothered by something that happened months ago?

After buckling everyone in the car Fred climbs out of the back, you place your bags and coats on the floor before closing the door. When you turn around Fred is waiting off to the side. He opens your door for you but instead of getting in you walk into his chest.

After the immediate shock Fred’s arms wrap around you. You feel the tears prick the sides of your eyes, but you sniffle them away. He feels your body gently heave and tightens his grip around you, holding you close; his body keeping you sheltered from the crisp Pittsburgh air.

You sigh against him and pull away, wordlessly climbing into the car. Fred gently shuts the door and gets in the driver’s side, you can tell he is confused but he says nothing starting the drive home. It’s a silent drive, you staring out the passenger window, Fred turns the volume of the radio down until it’s almost inaudible, you don’t need to turn around to see that all your sons have fallen asleep.

Once home you carefully take Oliver to bed and tuck him while Fred does the same with the twins. You change into some pyjamas and begin your night routine. At some point Fred comes in the bathroom to brush his teeth. Normally he would wait in the bathroom for you, his hand resting on your bump, groaning when you reach for another product instead of being done and ready for bed. You would shoot him a playful smirk and he would resume his post patiently waiting for you finish.

But not tonight, tonight he leaves once he is done; letting you finish your routine alone. You wash your face, brush out your hair and pull it into a loose bun on the top of your head. When you are finally done you find Fred sitting on the end of the bed waiting for you.

“Hey” he says seeing you nervously playing with his hands

“Hey” you reply shooting him a soft smile. You sit beside him curling your legs up on the mattress.

“What’s going on?” he chuckles awkwardly.” I replayed today through my head a million times from every angle and I have no idea what I did” he huffs. “We had coffee in bed before the boys woke up and it was great. We had breakfast and got ready for hockey everything was great until the party. Something shifted and I don’t know what. Did I leave some dishes in the sink or some socks on the floor? Did I say something stupid, like what did I do?”

“Nothing” you whisper.

“No don’t say nothing. Something is wrong so tell me. What did I do wrong?” he shifts closer to you and rests his hand on your ankle. You see the pleading in his eyes as he gently lifts your chin.

“You didn’t do anything” you repeat, Fred shaking his head running his hand through his hair frustrated at your response. You grip his hand and bring it back down to the bed “you didn’t do anything…today.”

“What does that mean?” he scoffs.

“After the game when you were walking back to the lobby you were stopped for pictures and what not by some people” he nods slightly. “Well a woman came up to you, dark hair.”

“Yeah her son wanted a picture” he explains.

“Right well I saw that, but then the two of you talked for a couple minutes. She was standing really close and I saw her touch your arm, and I don’t know it made me jealous or something.”

“Babe I didn’t want anything to do with her, I basically ran back to you right after that. I mean she’s not my type you don’t have to worry” he replies.

“Wait I don’t have to worry because she isn’t your type” you rise to your feet walking away.

“That’s not what I meant, they are two separate statements” you hear the sound of his footsteps getting closer. “Even if she was my type you wouldn’t have to worry, you’re it for me babe” he comes up resting his hands on your hip his voice low and in your ear. “You’re the only one I have eyes for. Nobody else elske.”

“But that hasn’t always been the case” you say pushing his hands off your hips. “I mean seven months ago you kissed someone else.”

You hear him sigh behind you and you take a large gulp. You turn around to face him seeing regret fill his face. His face falls and you blink through your pain before continuing “seeing that today bothered me and I know it shouldn’t. I knew nothing happened but it really bothered me. Eight months ago it wouldn’t have, but after finding out about you…I…I don’t know” you shake the image from your head, trying to compose yourself. 

Fred walks over to you and wraps his arms around you “I get it babe” he sighs .

“I guess I thought I was fine. That I was over it, it didn’t bother me. But it does bother me” you say choking on some sobs. Fred tightens his grip on you, completely engulfing you in his arms while you begin to sob against his chest. You clench his t-shirt while warm tears roll down your cheeks.

“Let’s talk about it then. Whenever you’re ready, and as much as you need” he says hands finding the back of your neck to hold you tight against him.

“I want to” you take a deep breath and wipe the side of your eye “now.”

You walk over to the bed and sit down crossing your legs, Fred joins sitting a few feet from you waiting for you to start. You sit in silence for a few minutes trying to find the words, not knowing where to start.

“I know you love me” you grab his hands in yours. “I know you would do anything for me, our family. But it’s not easy. We only got together because I got pregnant, if I didn’t I don’t think we’d be here.”

As you talk you watch his facial expression change; he stares at you like you’re crazy. Like he has no idea where that is coming from; because he never felt that way and doesn’t want you to. And it something that has been mentioned a few times, and you know it irritates him when anyone thinks that way. But it kills his to think you believe it.

“I don’t think that’s true babe. I mean yeah that brought us together, but we took our time. We built this right and we wouldn’t be here after all this time if we only were together because of you getting pregnant. It was almost two years after we got pregnant that we finally figured out or feelings and got together. If we were only together because of Ollie we would have been together from the start and it likely wouldn’t have been so hard. We both wouldn’t have gotten hurt so much in the process.”

“Okay but I get insecure because of that, and women constantly throw themselves at you which doesn’t help. But I was able to ignore it befre, let it all become background noise until you kissed someone. Now I see someone flirt with you and I can’t help but be jealous” you say through foggy eyes.

“I know I’m not always easy to be with” he shifts to be closer to you, pulling you into his lap “but I love you so much.”

“I never doubted that” you whine against his chest looking down in your lap. You nervously pick at your nails, trying to avoid eye contact “I just. I don’t know, I don’t know what I’m saying or what I want.”

Silence fills the air and you sense his hesitation “do you still want me, to be with me?”

“What” your head snaps up finding his dark eyes glazed with tears “of course I do.”

“Still want to marry me” he whispers afraid of the answer.

“Yes Frederik of course I do.”

“Do you want me to go to a hotel, give you some time –“

“No Fred I don’t want that” you almost snap at his questions. “I just need you to know that what you did hurt, and sometimes it still bothers me. The last time you cheated on me I was pregnant, and I’m pregnant again now so it’s hard. It’s hard because I want to trust it won’t happen again and I do trust it; until something happens and I doubt everything.”

You hear him mumble a fuck against your hair finally putting together your struggles. You practically hear the wheels stop turning as he finally has connected all the dots that led to your pain. It’s not that you are worried about him cheating, you are worried the stress of the pregnancy will get to him and it will happen again.

His hand rests on your waist, hesitantly finding its way onto your bump. You hear Fred sniffle as some tears land in your hair. The past 12 weeks you have had fears of Fred cheating on you again, dreams of that day and thanks to your pregnancy they have been vivid.

In some dreams it’s almost like you are replaying that day, you get sent a picture. Another dream or more like nightmare is you walking in to your bedroom and he is in bed buried deep inside another woman. You know these are just dreams but it doesn’t help your anxiety.

He runs his hand up and down your arm while you soak his shirt with your tears. He continues to try to soothe you but his attempts fail and you begin to sob uncontrollably. He holds you tight, you don’t even know for how long.

Finally your body relaxes and the tears in your eyes have dried, bottom lip stopped trembling. Your vision is still slightly blurred but you tilt your head to look at Fred showing your puffy cheeks. His face is wrecked with emotion; eyes wet with his own tears.

“I hate when you cry, but it’s so much worse when I’m the cause of it” he says laughing through his tears. You bring your thumb up to wipe his away, he gently rests his cheek against your palm.

“I love seeing you pregnant, I always have. There is something about seeing the woman I love carry my baby; words can’t even describe the feeling” you smile slightly at his words. “And I am so sorry I took what should be an amazing beautiful time” his hand lands on your stomach and he softly strokes over it “and put seeds of doubt into it. But tell me what you need to make this better. Whether it’s a night away, or a puppy or if you need to hit me whatever it is lets do it.”

“I don’t need or want to hit you” you laugh slightly. “And a puppy would be way too much work right now.” Fred’s lips gently land on your forehead as he rocks you back and forth. You relax into his touch bringing your hand through his beard and onto his chest. “I don’t know if there is any one thing; if the situation was reversed and I kissed someone do you think there is one thing that could fix it?”

He doesn’t respond. You don’t know if it’s because he doesn’t know or doesn’t want to say it; not that you were expecting a response.

“Honestly I’m drained; me and the baby just want to curl up under the blankets and get some sleep” you sigh.

“Okay” he whispers pulling his hands away from you.

Your body is weak as you crawl out his lap; slipping under the cold sheets. Fred sits at the bottom of the bed not sure if you want him to join. You fold the blanket on his side down and tap the empty space and he quickly fills it, not needing to be told twice.

He lies on his back not bothering to pull the blankets up his body. His gaze locks on your ceiling, but you can see his pupils shifting as he replays the conversation; or maybe that night eight months ago. You slide closer to Fred and rest your hand on his chest, using his bicep as a pillow.

His hand lands on your back and he pulls you in close, almost as if he’s afraid he’ll lose you. You can feel the tension exuding off of him and can hear his uneasy breathing. After the night you had you are mentally exhausted and practically fall asleep instantly, though you know Fred will be awake for hours.

The next morning you wake up on your side facing away from Fred, some of the morning light beginning to trickle through your blinds. You don’t need to look at your clock to know you are earlier than normal; the kids likely sleeping for another 45 minutes.

You roll over and Fred is staring at the ceiling the same position you left him in last night. The bags under his eyes and red in his pupils telling you he didn’t sleep well. While you were emotionally drained and fell asleep relatively easily, you felt Fred tossing and turning beside you which woke you up multiple times.

“Hey” he whispers a faint smile finding his face when he sees you. “How’d you sleep?”

Shifting in your sheets, you embrace the exhaustion carried over from the night before. Normally you would try to fall back asleep until the twins cried over the monitor or you hear Oliver footsteps running down the hall towards your room.

“Okay” you yawn. Fred smiles lightly brushing your hair from your forehead.

“Not sleep good?” you ask, he shakes his head in response.

“How could I?” he sighs turning his gaze back to the ceiling.

“Sorry” you whisper.

“No you don’t have anything to apologize for. I fucked up and your feelings are valid”

“I kind of feel better, I think maybe I just had to get it all out. Tell you how I was feeling” you say crawling over to him. It’s not a lie, you didn’t necessarily need anything to happen or for Fred to do anything He just needed to know how you felt, be aware of the problem. Maybe if you hadn’t brushed it under the rug many months ago your feelings would be resolved.

“I’m glad” he responds his lips hesitantly press to your forehead. You melt into his touch, your hand sliding up his shirt feeling his warm skin under your nails. You tilt your head gently pressing your lips to Fred’s.

You can sense his hesitation as you crawl on him sinking into the kiss. You know he can taste your morning breath but he doesn’t care, opening his mouth to allow you entrance. His lips are slightly chapped like usual as your tongue swipes along his lower lip; he moans when you suck on his lower lip pulling it back slightly.

His hands tentatively find your hips holding you on his stomach. Your tongue slides inside his mouth, your hand finding his rough beard and gently rakes through it. Your mouths move in sync with one another, his hands slowly begin to wander around to the back of your thighs before returning to your hips. You gently grind down on him, feeling his tip separated by some thin fabric between your cheeks. After a few minutes Fred pulls away leaving the two of you gasping for air.

“I’m sorry I made you feel like this. I never want you to be insecure, especially because of me” he whispers. He gently pushes you onto your back, him resting on his side. “You’re it for me, my other half; my better half. You complete me and I never want you to worry. No other girl has a shot with me” his mouth attaches to your neck peppering you with soft kisses.

“You are the only girl I want to curl up beside after a game. The only girl who will make me watch the Notebook only to turn it off with 15 minutes left because it’s too sad to finish.” You roll your eyes at that but can’t help a grin from crossing your face.

He crawls on top of you; your hands stroking along his biceps. “You’re the only girl I want stealing my sweaters, the only girl I want to kiss” he briefly presses his lips to yours. His knee gently finds a spot between your legs spreading them open a couple inches.

You moan ever so lightly you aren’t even sure Fred heard it until he smirks against your lips. “You’re the only girl I want to make those sounds come out of.” You clear your throat and bite your bottom lip as Fred’s mouth presses to the side of your neck. Your eyelashes kiss your cheek your body squirming while wetness begins to pool in your core.

“You’re the only girl I want to touch” he gently presses a kiss to your jaw bone, a finger trailing down your arm. “The only girl I want to taste” he licks along your collarbone. He places warm open mouth kisses on your collarbone finding its way to your sweet spot.

A light giggle falls from your lips as his mustache tickles your ear. You know Fred is enjoying this but he won’t touch you further until you allow it.

“Freddie” you moan and feel him smirk against your neck.

“Yes smuk” he mumbles against your skin as goosebumps begin to form.

“I need you” you moan out softly. Before you even finish getting the words out your shirt is off, his large hands finding your breasts, easily cupping them in his palm. His movements are soft and gentle as he waits for your response.

He massages your breast in one hand; gently rolling the nipple through his finger. You gasp at the feeling, them being slightly sensitive from the pregnancy. Fred eases his touch but doesn’t pull away; his mouth dipping down to suck on your other breast.

Your back arches in response soft moans escaping your lips. You expect him to continue down your body but he continues to work on your breasts for a few more minutes. You feel your cunt dripping your hands finding his hair. Instead of tangling your fingers in his hair you try to push his large frame down further and earn a deep seeded chuckle from him.

“Someone’s eager” he mumbles against you; soft curse words fall from your lips. His hand slides down your body slipping inside your pyjama pants. His fingers graze over your folds coating them in your juices. He smirks against your breast “very eager eh” he jokes feeling your wetness.

His large hands easily push your pants down your legs, they bunch just below your knees. He continues to suck on your breast while his hand caresses up the back of your thigh. He gives your ass a squeeze, pulling your body down the bed until your pussy finds his thigh.

He flexes his muscular thigh, your pussy trembling on him. You begin to slowly roll your hips in search of more friction. Fred lets out a soft moan at the feeling of his muscles pressing against your throbbing clit.

His hands find your hip, rough fingers digging in, encouraging the motion of your hips. His lips still wrapped around one of your hardened nipples. Breathy whimpers leaving your mouth as you grind your hips against him; earning a few low groans from him. Your moans turn to whimpers needing more contact.

“Fred please” you whine voice thick with need and desperation.

He releases his mouth from your breast and slowly trails down your body. When he reaches your pelvis he sucks hard likely leaving a mark; his nails digging into your hips. He hooks your legs over his shoulders his mouth places soft kisses on the inside of your thighs.

His arms wrap around your waist, pinning you to the bed as he bites up your thigh. Your head falls into the pillow and your eyes rolling into the back of your head. Even though he has barely touched you the anticipation almost has you going over the edge.

You gasp when his lips finally attach to your clit, placing some soft kisses on your folds. He pulls back, lips ghosting barely a centimeter from your skin causing your hips to buck up. Fred flattens his tongue and licks a stripe up; a dark groan leaves Fred’s throat tasting your wetness. Your back begins to arch but his grip tightens holding you to the bed.

His tongue slowly slips inside your walls and your hands tangle into his messy locks, gripping tight to the scalp as his tongue moves in and out of you. Your thighs tighten around his head, Fred groaning under you. His nose presses into your clit as whispered curse words fall from yours.

He flicks his tongue inside you, curling in your walls. His teeth gently graze your folds; you breathe out a fuck as the coil in your abdomen gets painfully tight. You aren’t sure if Fred heard you or if he can sense it, until you hear him hum in response.

You tremble knowing you are hanging on the edge, “I’m gonna cum” you manage to pant out. You feel Fred smirk below you but he doesn’t let up, continuing to fuck his tongue in and out of you.

Your eyes squeeze shut as the coil inside you snaps; your orgasm washing over you. Fred works you through your high groaning as you flutter around his mouth. An incoherent noise leaves your lips the heels of your feet digging into his back. Finally you come down from your high Fred’s tongue slowing. You are breathless as your eyes flutter open looking down to meet Fred’s gaze. His mouth releases your swollen bud and he drops your legs; pulling your pyjamas back up your legs.

He slowly crawls up your body, your juices dripping from his beard. He places a trail of soft kisses up your chest. Your hands release his hair sliding down to his beard pulling his face to yours. You guide his mouth to yours moaning when you taste yourself.

His tongue slides in but before you can deepen it you hear a cry over the baby monitor. You pull apart with a groan; Fred’s head turning to the screen.

“I think he’s still asleep” Fred says after a couple minutes “got a couple more minutes” he mumbles against your neck. He falls beside you pulling you into his chest while your head turns to look at him. He softly brushes your sweaty hair from your forehead.

“I’m sorry for yesterday” he says softly “and more importantly seven months ago.”

“I know” your lips gently press against his.

“If something bothers you please tell me” he says and you smile lightly in response. “And if you need to talk about what happened more, bring it up. No matter what.”

“I will, promise” you smile

“No matter how uncomfortable it’s better for us to talk these things through now then let them stew inside.”

“I know” you nod against him. Fred smiles down at you and brings his lips back down to yours. You gently play with the baby hairs on the nape of his neck. The kiss is soft and slow; his tongue swiping inside your mouth. When you pull away Fred’s forehead gently presses against yours.

Your hands gently play with his beard, a wide grin glued to your face. Fred crawls beside you his hand finds your stomach “any movements yet?”

“I’m only 13ish weeks babe” you laugh “that probably won’t happen for another five weeks or so.”

“I know I just love the little kicks” he places another soft kiss on your cheek when you hear another cry from the nursery.

“I got it babe” he whispers crawling out of bed. When the door closes you find your shirt knowing your time in bed will be ending soon. You hear the nursery door open on the monitor, and your gaze meets the screen. You feel your heart skip a beat watching Fred.

He pulls Noah from his crib, blowing a raspberry on his stomach. Noah’s little laugh is loud enough you can almost hear it down the hall.

He engages in a random conversation with him while changing his diaper and getting him ready for the day. Before he finishes Lucas stirs in his crib and Fred turns his attention to him repeating everything with him. After finishing he leaves the nursery and you hear his footsteps on the hardwood and the door slowly creaks open.

The twins faces light up when they see you and Fred crawls back into bed handing Noah to you. “Hi buddy” you smile pressing a kiss to his cheek. The four of you lie in bed, Noah babbling away on your stomach; Fred’s arms wrapped around the two of you.

You all lie in bed, you curled up beside Fred the twins crawling over you. You and Fred fall into an easy conversation the twins cooing around you. Lucas is sitting on Fred’s chest and you laugh when Noah sits on his face. It’s an easy morning; something you didn’t get when Oliver was this young. When he was around this age you and Fred were in separate apartments. It was during the span when you weren’t sleeping together; and your interactions were sometimes awkward.

You grab Lucas from Fred’s chest and Fred grips Noah’s waist lifting him off his face. He puts him on the mattress and begins to tickle your son, his little laugh erupting. His laughter echoes off the wall getting louder; it’s so loud you almost don’t hear the door creak open. You look over and see Oliver yawning in the doorway, rubbing his eyes. He slowly climbs up in bed beside you.

A large grin spread across you face watching as Fred wrestles Oliver into the bed and tickles the boys. Their laughter fills your bedroom and your heart watching your four boys. You rub your hand over your stomach smiling, knowing soon there will be another baby making your king sized bed seem even more crowded; just the way you like it.

Next Chapter

[wheresmynaya]

Lost in the Lights Ch.15|Brittana

A/N - Thank you for being patient and still leaving behind your reviews! The struggle to write continues so I think next chapter will be the final one. Thanks for sticking it out with me 💙

Available on ff.net (x) ao3 (x) & under the cut

The first thing Santana notices when she awakes is that it’s too damn bright. It’s kind of ridiculous how bright it is – like there’s no logical explanation for why anyone would be okay with waking up to that – but then she remembers something.

This isn’t her room.

She knows as much because Santana likes to keep her room as dark as possible during the early mornings and this is the complete opposite. But that’s not the only thing out of place. Everything feels different; the bed is softer, the blankets are warmer, and it’s like the pillow she rests her head on has been infused with her favorite scent: Brittany.

The smile forms without thinking and suddenly she doesn’t care all that much about the equivalent of a million flashlights being beamed at her eyelids – she might be exaggerating a little there – because this isn’t her room.

It’s Brittany’s.

Despite not being a morning person in the slightest, Santana’s always been the first to awake at sleepovers for some reason. Maybe it’s her body’s way of letting her know that she isn’t in her usual surroundings, but for once she just wants it to chill. She always hated having to wait until everyone else woke up, but she finds that she feels a little differently this time around.

While it seems like the rest of Lima still sleeps, Santana takes the quiet moment to admire her girlfriend. Because before, when she’s out there in the world it sometimes feels like she has to be guarded about it – her glances are usually stolen, her smiles are small and secretive.

But she doesn’t have to hide here.

Brittany’s blonde hair is all over the place while one arm drapes lazily over Santana’s hip and the other is crooked above her head. She’s sound asleep with these soft little snores escaping slightly parted lips and it makes Santana smile. Brittany swears she doesn’t snore even though Santana has heard it on multiple occasions over the phone, but it hits differently now that she’s actually here and can see it for herself.

If anything, it just makes Santana want to kiss her even more.  

She doesn’t though; it feels like it’s still way too early for anyone to be awake so Santana let’s her sleep while she continues to admire. She has rarely been able to be this close to Brittany without feeling overwhelmed by everything so it’s nice to be able to do this now.

Watching someone sleep has always sounded so weird to her and she’d judge anyone hardcore for doing it and yet here she is doing the exact same thing, only now she gets it. To be so close that she could count every little freckle dotting Brittany’s cheeks, it’s almost like being caught in a dream.

Santana runs the back of her finger along Brittany’s cheek and it’s like the touch solidifies that this is real, that it’s actually happening. A year ago, even six months ago, Santana would not have imagined this kind of reality for herself. She figured after everything that went down with Dani and all the drama with Bree and JBI, she wouldn’t find happiness until she had put Lima far, far behind her.

How wrong was she?

Santana glances to Brittany and she has to stifle a chuckle because this girl; this beautiful, talented, amazing girl literally just appeared one day and her whole life changed. Really, everyone’s did. To have a female quarterback leading the Titans and actually doing it well was something no one saw coming and it amazes Santana. Of all the people Brittany could’ve set her eyes on, she chose her.

And the same goes for Santana.

In all her daydreaming, Santana hears Brittany let out a sleepy sigh before she’s tightening her arm around Santana’s hip. The blonde snuggles in close, her head sliding off the pillow and instead nestling against Santana’s chest. The brunette smirks at that – if it weren’t for the little snores returning, she would’ve thought Brittany had woken up.  

Instead, the brunette gets cozy too. Maybe if she closes her eyes, her mind will stop and sleep will find her easily once again?

\\

The next time Santana awakes, it’s to Brittany pressing gentle kisses all over her face. As she begins to stir, the kisses get quicker and sloppier until Santana’s giggling for Brittany to quit it.  When the kisses finally pause, Santana cracks an eye open to find Brittany hovering over her with this goofy grin on her face.

“You really want me to stop?” Brittany asks devilishly.

Santana’s only answer is to wrap her arms around Brittany’s shoulders and pull her down for a real kiss. She can feel Brittany’s smile as their mouths move and she can’t think of a better way to wake up – if only they could do this every morning.

“Good mornin’,” Brittany mumbles against Santana’s soft lips.

“Mhmm,” Santana replies happily.

Once they pull away, Brittany moves to keep herself hovering over Santana. It’s a risky move because Brittany’s strong arms tense in the most distracting way, not to mention how Brittany’s baggy sleep shirt hangs loose around her torso – meaning Santana can see that she definitely isn’t wearing a bra.

“It’s a very good morning,” Santana flirts.

“Hey,” Brittany teases when she catches on then rests back on her heels.

Santana pouts at the lose of a great view and it makes Brittany giggle.

“Careful,” Brittany jokes as she taps on Santana’s bottom lip, “Might get stuck like that.”

Santana rolls her eyes playfully at the jab before smiling, “Did you sleep well?”

Brittany nods, “I should sleep in more often. I don’t usually miss a morning run.”

“God, you do that on the weekends too?” Santana scrunches her nose cutely, “Gross.”

Brittany chuckles, “It’s always Leg Day, baby!”

Santana knows it was meant to be a joke judging by Brittany’s sing-song tone but hearing Brittany say baby reminds her of last night and she can’t fight a smitten little smile from forming. If Quinn could see her now, a constant smiling fool, the teasing would be endless.

Santana doesn’t care though, she might even put up with it if that means she gets to keep Brittany.

“You’re crazy,” Santana ends up saying to cover up the obvious adoration. She doubts it works judging by the soft expression on Brittany’s face too.

“Hungry?” Brittany asks a second later, “My mom’s making breakfast.”

Santana feels reality starting to set in and their little bubble beginning to burst. She knows they can’t hideaway like this in Brittany’s room forever, but it would kind of be nice to.

Nevertheless, she sits a little straighter and nods, “Yeah, starving.”

\\

The couple venture downstairs awhile later after brushing their teeth and changing into warmer clothes. All that means is Brittany opted for fuzzy rainbow socks while tossing Santana one of her hoodies that was always a little too big for her. Santana has to roll the sleeves twice for it to sit comfortably while Brittany teases her for being so tiny.

“Mornin’ girls!” Whitney greets when the pair make their way into the kitchen.

Whitney’s definitely been busy as the entire island counter is covered in various plates stacked with different flavors of pancakes and bowls filled with blueberries, strawberries and chocolate chips. Other toppings surround a long wooden cutting board and Brittany’s already poking around for a snack.

“Good morning, Mrs. Pierce,” Santana greets politely while Brittany steals a strawberry from a small bowl.

“I see the couch was empty this morning,” Whitney comments cryptically in Brittany’s direction.

When Santana glances to Brittany, she can see the blonde’s face go red and blue eyes dart away from Whitney’s.

“I – well,” Brittany stammers, “It gets cold down here at night...”

Santana’s eyes go wide. Was she not meant to stay in Brittany’s room last night?

“Uh-huh,” Whitney gives her a knowing look.

Brittany smiles apologetically, “Sorry?”

Whitney only shakes her head and nods to the counter, “You two hungry?”

“Yeah, but I only said Santana was sleeping over, not the entire school,” Brittany jokes as she pops the berry into her mouth.  

“I know,” Whitney laughs before flipping another pancake, “I might’ve gotten carried away. I saw this thing on the internet called a pancake board. It’s like one of those fancy cheese platters but pancakes. I figured I’d give it a try. How’s it look?”

“Amazing,” Santana compliments, “Way cooler than any breakfast I’ve ever had.”

“You’re too sweet,” Whitney smiles and swats at Brittany’s hand going for another berry, “Leave some for the rest of us.”

Brittany backs off with a chuckle and Santana finds herself grinning too. This family dynamic is so different than what she’s used to and it kind of catches her off guard to be in such a laid back environment. Growing up, breakfast at the Lopez residence was far and few between with her parents’ work schedules. If they were miraculously together, they’d usually just go out to somewhere fancy with a dress code.

She starts to feel a little fidgety and asks, “Did you need any help?”

“I should be finishing up in here soon,” Whitney answers, “Maybe you both can clear a space in the living room and check on Pete while you’re out there. I haven’t heard him in awhile, make sure he isn’t up to anything.”

“You got it, mom!”

Santana nods too and follows after Brittany to the living room, confused as to why they won’t be eating at an actual table.

“You didn’t tell me I was meant to sleep on the couch last night,” Santana mentions softly.

Brittany just shrugs, “I was meant to but no way I was gonna stay down here by myself.”

“Chicken,” Santana teases.

“Says you,” Brittany smirks before calling out for Pete when she finds the couch empty but the cartoons still playing on tv.

Santana looks around the room too; no sign of Brittany’s little brother anywhere.

Brittany lets out a playful sigh and nudges Santana to play along, “Bummer, he’s not here. Guess Santana and I will just have to eat all the pancakes by ourselves!”

“Wait!” Pete shrieks before he pops out from under a stack of throw pillows. The expression on his little face goes from shock to excitement when he sees that Santana’s standing alongside Brittany, “Santana’s here?!”

Santana’s never seen someone so excited to see her – apart from Brittany – and Pete’s rushing towards her with a giant grin on his face. He throws his arms around her as soon as she’s in reach and Santana doesn’t know what to do but stiffen and look to Brittany for an explanation.

Brittany only laughs, “I might’ve told him you were coming over later today for lunch.”

“You’re here so early!” Pete beamed as he looked up at her, “You going to have breakfast and lunch with us too?”

Santana bites her lip at his excitement and the adoring look Brittany’s giving her.

She’s never been too fond of being around kids, she’s never known how to act – she still doesn’t, but Pete’s different. He’s actually cool and Santana finds it starting to get easier to interact with him the more time she spends around the Pierces.

“Looks like it, P,” Santana ends up replying coolly with a ruffle to his hair before sinking down to whisper to him, “Also heard that you might be the Monopoly King around here.”

“I am,” He responds proudly before puffing out his chest, “You wanna challenge me?”

Santana smirks, “Maybe after breakfast.”

When Pete’s smile widens, it looks like Santana’s just made his entire day. When she glances over at Brittany, it looks like she has just made her entire day too.

\\\\\

It’s a total back to reality moment for Brittany as she pulls into the McKinley High student parking lot on Monday morning. After the blissful weekend she had, she never felt so bummed about it having to end for the sake of going back to school.

Spending all that time with Santana was just…perfect. She fit in so well with her little family – even Pete was begging for Santana to stay a little while longer after winning a second round of Monopoly. But all good things must come to an end, at least for a little bit.

It’s the beginning of a big week for her though so she at least has that to curb her slight grumpiness. The Championship game is this Friday which feels like the culmination of her entire high school football career. She hasn’t been putting too much thought into it – too wrapped up in her new relationship with Santana and the rivalry between the Titans and the hockey team – but now that it’s all starting to come to an end…she feels a little sad.

Playing football has always been something that has made her feel closer to her dad. It’s something that he exposed her to when she was young and it blossomed from there and it should make her feel proud because she has come so far thanks to him, but it makes her feel like a chapter is closing.

A chapter she started with her dad and ended…without him.

She quickly pushes those thoughts away, not wanting to get caught crying in her car by Santana – or even worse by someone random. No, she has to seek out the positives because that’s exactly what he would’ve wanted her to do. He would’ve told her not worry about him, this is all about her and she should feel proud of her accomplishments.

It’s easier said than done lately, but she just focuses on her dad’s wise words of wisdom and prepares herself for a busy, busy week ahead.

\\

For the most part, it’s smooth sailing for Brittany.

On Monday there was a quiz in her History class, but she was actually prepared for it so it didn’t stress her out too much and she was confident that she did great. On Tuesday, her Astronomy class got back their graded assignments and Brittany surprised herself with a perfect score – the only one in the entire class.

Santana was so proud of her for that one that they skipped their study session at Elliott’s to instead make out in the back of Santana’s car. Brittany remembers how they giggled like mad afterwards because Santana had to turn on the screen defroster, it was that foggy inside.

This week, Brittany felt like she was on a roll and that reflected during football practice as well. The quarterback nailed every throw – even the trickier ones where the defense applied extra pressure. Although it was only practice, her passer rating must’ve been through the roof because she was doing so well with her completions.

But it wasn’t just her, the entire team was doing exceedingly well too. After the stunt they pulled last week in the cafeteria, the Titans seemed to be more united and that showed in the way they practiced. Sam and Mike hadn’t dropped one pass yet and you couldn’t strip the ball away from Puck if you were the strongest person on Earth.

Anyone with eyes could see that the Titans wanted this Championship win, that practiced that hard. Brittany’s teammates were putting in extra work in the weight room and staying later after practice ended just to get in a few more catches.

Everyone was determined as ever and that pissed the hockey guys off even more so. But like always, Brittany opted for the higher road. She wasn’t going to stoop down to their level – no Titan was going to – and she just hoped that they’d eventually take the hint that they weren’t going to be intimidating anyone any time soon.

\\

By Wednesday, the anxiousness over the big game starts to settle in. The school is all a buzz about the possibility of Brittany and the Titans ending this Championship drought. Any other day, that buzz would leave Brittany feeling giddy but the pressure of winning and the sadness she feels about this chapter coming to an end is louder.

She knows it’s not exactly where her head needs to be right now, but she can’t help it. This storm cloud has been brewing for awhile and she has done her best to keep it at bay but it was only a matter of time before she stopped being able to outrun it.

Miraculously though, she isn’t the only one that has noticed the shift in her mood.

\\

Brittany’s sitting in the cafeteria, surrounded by all of her friends and teammates while she slowly picks at her lunch. Usually by this hour, she’s starving but not today. It’s not that she has lost her appetite because she loves chicken patties but she’s just not feeling it. She can tell Kurt and Mercedes are talking excitedly about something and Brittany wishes she could focus enough to be apart of the conversation but all she hears is noise.

It’s almost like she’s caught in a daze and everything’s moving around her like usual but she’s stuck in slow motion. It’s a weird feeling, one she hasn’t experienced in a long time – maybe since she moved to Lima.

No one notices either, not until someone fills the seat next to her.

“Hey B! I got you something,” Santana says cheerfully.

Brittany goes to glance in her direction but her smile isn’t quite as bright as it usually is and that’s enough for Santana.

“Are you okay?” She asks as she slides the gifted pressed juice onto the table.

“Is that for me?” Brittany asks instead and nods to the juice, similar to the one Santana brought her at the beginning of the year.

Santana looks between the drink and Brittany, “Yeah. Figured you might need the energy boost. I remember you saying this morning that you had some trouble sleeping last night so I stopped by the Cheerios lounge before coming here.”

Brittany smiles adoringly at her. It still surprises her how caring Santana can be. It’s enough to distract Brittany from her troubles for the time being. How could anyone think about anything else when her girlfriend is the most thoughtful person in the world?

“You’re too sweet,” Brittany compliments as she squeezes Santana’s knee beneath the table, “Thank you.”

Santana just shrugs her shoulder bashfully, but their little interaction is enough to gain the rest of the table’s interest – specifically Kurt and Mercedes.

“I had my suspicions but I couldn’t be sure,” Kurt comments behind a playful smirk, “Not until now.”

Santana quirks her brow and Brittany frowns in confusion.

“Really?” Mercedes looks at him with this unamused look on her face, “I clocked it the day she came to sit with us. Cheerios don’t ever break rank.”

Brittany starts to catch on and glances to Santana again to see her reaction because so far the only people at school who know about them are: Quinn, Mike and Sam. And apparently Kurt and Mercedes have a bit of a reputation for being the school gossips so if they get a hold of this it would be public knowledge now.

Brittany’s heart beats a little quicker as she continues to watch Santana.

“Don’t assume,” Tina scolds the both of them before smiling at Santana and Brittany, “Although you two would make a really cute couple.”

Brittany blushes while both of Santana’s brows rise. Brittany has no idea what to say to and she can’t tell if Santana’s about to beat Tina with her lunch tray or laugh. She’s hoping it’s neither; she’s hoping that Santana would want to tell the truth. Santana has been doing so well so far, why wouldn’t she?

It’s a long pause afterwards where everyone just waits for an answer from either Brittany or Santana. Brittany’s waiting on her girlfriend to take the lead but she wonders if Santana’s doing the same too.

“So are you?” Kurt asks; cutting through the silence and right to the chase.

“Well,” Brittany starts uneasily, “We – “

“Yes,” Santana answers without wavering, “We’re together.”

Brittany’s jaw just about drops and so does everyone else’s.

“This is outstanding!” He cheers, “I’m – “

“Hold up,” Santana raises her finger, “No matter how excited you are or whatever, this is not your business to tell. It’s ours – as in me and Britt – not you. Don’t go throwing us a rainbow themed party or build us a Pride Parade float to have us chauffeured around on. That’s not how we’re doing this.”

Kurt’s lips part but Santana cuts him off again then eyes everyone at the table down – excluding Brittany of course.

“Every single person that knows so far knows because we told them and because they know how to keep their trap shut about things that aren’t theirs to share so if this were to get out before we decide, I know exactly who I’ll be going after,” Santana warns before straightening up, “Believe me, you don’t want that. These Puck Heads and their lame ass slushies have nothing on what I’d do.”

Kurt, Mercedes and Tina all gulp. Santana just smirks.

Brittany looks back and forth between everyone uneasily – halfway turned on by how assertive Santana was just then and also a little guilty about threatening her friends. Then again, when it comes to this she guess a little tough love might be in order.

“Stay in your lane and we won’t have problems,” Santana adds in a friendlier tone, “Understand?”

Brittany’s friends just nod in unison.

“Great talk,” Santana grins before turning her attention back to Brittany with this sickeningly sweet smile on her face, “So B, how’s your day been so far? ”

Brittany’s a little speechless at first but then she lets out a chuckle before answering Santana’s question.

\\

The rest of lunch goes on smoothly. Santana and Brittany talk about their day so far and what assignments still need completing. They make plans to go to Elliott’s again this weekend to study together – like actually study this time and not…do other things.

That’s when Puck goes to stand on his chair to apparently make an announcement.

“Puckerman, get down!” Mr. Phillips scolds.

“Just a sec, Mr. P, I’ve got to say something,” Puck tells him.

“Do you need to stand up there while you say it?”

“How else will everyone hear me?” Puck shrugs.

Mr. Philips narrows his eyes.

“I’ll be super quick,” Puck assures him.

“Fine,” Mr. Philips rolls his eyes and wanders away.

Brittany and Santana pull away from their own conversation long enough to see what’s got him so worked up. They aren’t the only ones listening in though, Rick and the hockey guys linger nearby too.

“Listen up! So everyone knows the Titans are going to kick Carmel’s ass this Friday, right?” Puck asks and everyone within listening distance cheers loudly.

Mr. Philips turns and gives Puck a glare.

Puck just smiles apologetically before continuing, “It’s history in the making, our parents didn’t even experience this shit, so I think that deserves celebrating. The Titans deserve celebrating! This has been a great year for us – mostly thanks to Pierce over there.” Puck points over to Brittany and everyone cheers again for her.

Brittany gets a little bashful around the applause but even more so when she finds Santana smiling at her so proudly. If she knew any better, she’d think Santana was about to kiss her.

“Without her, I don’t know where we’d be. No offense, Hudson.”

Finn just shrugs, seemingly unaffected by the jab.

“So in saying that, I only know how to celebrate one way,” Puck smirks, “Victory party at my place after the game! Everyone’s invited except those losers.” Puck nods over to Rick and starts to laugh when he sees the hockey guys getting pissed.

The Titans all pound the table as Puck gives an approving nod to their response before making his way off the chair. Brittany laughs at the display while Mr. Philips rushes over to quiet the team down.

“Puck and his parties,” Santana comments with an eye roll, “Looks like you guys better win.”

Brittany sighs playfully, “No pressure, right?”

“What? I thought you work well under that?”

“You’d know, wouldn’t you?” Brittany smirks and Santana gasps at the suggestion.

Brittany just laughs as she watches Santana’s cheeks grow a little darker.

\\

By the end of lunch, Santana and Brittany have to go their separate ways instead of walk together to their next class. It’s something about Santana needing to stop by Ms. Pillsbury’s office before so they part ways at the cafeteria exit.

It’s no big deal. Brittany uses the time instead to head to her locker and drop off all the books she won’t be needing for homework later. Maybe if she doesn’t have to carry as many, she can help Santana carry hers?

The thought makes Brittany smile before she’s closing her locker and heading to class.

Like any other day, she takes her usual route to Ms. Holliday’s classroom. She walks past her History class from this morning and spots Sam getting settled at his desk. They wave at each other before Brittany continues on. She passes a corridor and another block of lockers before turning down the hall, only this time someone waits for her there.

Well not someone…as in singular.

“Sup Pierce,” Rick nods while his usual two guys flank him.

Brittany feels the atmosphere shift so she stands a little taller.

“Hey,” Brittany nods. She notices they each have a hand behind their backs and she can already guess what’s coming.

It all happens in an instant. One moment she’s minding her own business heading to class and the next she’s drenched from head to toe in red slushie.

“What the hell?!” Brittany snaps as she wicks slush from her face.

“Equal treatment, right?” Rick sneers as he and his guys toss their emptied extra large slushie cups at Brittany’s feet where red slushie is already starting to drip off of her.

Brittany’s too cold and shell-shocked to even say anything more, but what leaves her speechless is seeing Karofsky and Azimio watching the whole thing from behind them. Brittany waits for them to jump in, to give her some type of back up here…but they don’t.

They don’t say a word. They just turn and leave.

“Let this be a lesson to you, Pierce. Some things you just can’t change around here,” Rick says, “Football’s reign was over the moment they enlisted you as their quarterback.”

“Yay, girl power!” One of his guys jokes before they leave Brittany standing there.

She can’t tell if her brain is completely frozen by the slushie or if she’s just too angry to move. All she does is stare down at her feet, watching the slushie pool around her once white Converse.

She thinks about Azimio and Karofsky and how they turned their backs on her and she’s never felt so hurt before. Which is saying something because she was literally tackled to the ground because of them, but this is different. They aren’t on the field and to see them walk away like that just shows how horrible they actually are.

“Oh my God,” Someone says and it breaks Brittany from her whirling thoughts.

When Brittany looks up, she finds Quinn searching her with worried eyes.

“Are you – ” Quinn starts but she sees something written all over Brittany’s face and stops. Instead she puts on an apologetic smile, “Come on. Let’s get you cleaned up before it stains.”

Brittany thinks she nods but she isn’t sure. She doesn’t start to move until Quinn’s hands are on her shoulders, coaxing her along.

\\

The bathroom is just on the other side of the block of lockers Brittany and Quinn were standing next to and Quinn quickly gets to work wetting a paper towel. She hands it to Brittany so that she can wipe her face.

Now that she’s starting to regain some feeling, Brittany begins to get angry. She’s kept her cool for so long, let everything roll off of her but this? A line was crossed so she doubts she can be as forgiving.

“I can’t believe this,” Brittany says as she slams down a wad of soaked paper towel into the sink.

Quinn looks somewhat surprised by the outburst but nods anyway, “At least it’s not the blue one. That’s the hardest to get out.”

Brittany shakes her head as Quinn passes her more paper towels, “I can’t believe people are still like this. I can’t believe Azimio and Karofsky just stood there. I’ve never met so many guys who just refuse to accept a little change. I’m not even doing anything radical here! What’s the fucking problem?”

Quinn drops her hands to rest on the sink as she listens. Brittany’s fuming but what surprises her most are the tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. She blinks furiously to keep them at bay because she has sworn to never shed a tear over this crap and she doesn’t want her first bonding moment with Quinn to involve her tears.

So she takes a steadying breath, “It would be one thing if the Titans weren’t winning, but they are. We’ve broken records together and I’m leading them to a Championship after how many years? Why isn’t that the focus for these people? Why does it matter that I just so happen to be a girl? Why is that an issue in the first place?”

Quinn lets out a sigh and shrugs, “The hockey guys are idiots. I don’t think they even know which narrative they want to pick. Is it because you’re a girl? Is it because you’re a Titan? Is it because you’re winning?”

Brittany lets out a frustrated sigh.

“They’re going to be Lima Losers for the rest of their lives while you’re out doing bigger and better things. You aren’t meant for this place, Brittany, they are and that’s why they’ll never leave. They’ll never evolve. Why do you think anyone with common sense wants to run as far as they can from this place? No one wants to be a Lima Loser and those that don’t care about becoming one – like the Puck Heads – aren’t people you should lose any sleep over.”

Brittany nods. She remembers a conversation a long time ago about Quinn wanting to go to Yale because it was so far from Lima. She always wondered why anyone would want to leave their family like that, but maybe their families are made up of people who refuse to evolve like Quinn said. She thinks about Santana and her dad and how Santana’s one of those people who want to run too.

Brittany didn’t really get it before, but she does now.  

“I’ve never experienced anything like this,” Brittany mentions while Quinn continues to fuss over her. It makes her chuckle despite everything and she wonders if she’s like this with Santana too.

Then she remembers something.

“She would’ve been with me,” Brittany mumbles out the realization. Quinn gives her a confused look, “Santana. We usually walk together to our last class but she went to see Ms. Pillsbury this time. She would’ve been with me. They would’ve gotten her too.”

Quinn shakes her head and lets out a dry chuckle, “It did not go over well when they slushied her the first time. I doubt it would go over well if she were there this time.”

Brittany frowns, “She’s been slushied before?”

“Yeah. Last year,” Quinn’s expression grows somber, “Shortly after everything came out.”

Brittany feels like she’s been gut-punched as she starts imagine what that must’ve been like for Santana. She can just hear the comments Rick would’ve cooked up and how small they would’ve made her feel. It infuriates her even more and plans of retaliation start to piece together.

“You want me to text her to bring you a change of clothes?” Quinn asks upon Brittany’s silence,

Brittany looks to Quinn through the mirror and shrugs, “It’s fine. I’ll be okay for one class.”

Quinn raises her brow and it’s funny how similar the expression is. She wonders if she got it from Santana or maybe it was the brunette that rubbed off on her.

“You can’t walk around like that,” Quinn says, “Your clothes are soaked through and your letterman jacket is already stained.”

Brittany looks to her sleeves and frowns, “Crap. I can’t afford to buy another one.”

“Don’t worry, I can sort that for you,” Quinn adds casually, “I know a guy, owns the best dry cleaners in Lima. Technically it’s the only dry cleaners but he’s great. You can get it back in time for the Pep Rally on Friday.”

“Oh,” Brittany replies. She’s not really used to this kind of interaction with Quinn. Not because they don’t get along or anything, but because they’ve never really had the opportunity. It’s kind of nice, Brittany thinks. She’s glad Santana’s had a friend like her all these years.

“Look, it’s not a big deal,” Quinn says with a smile, “I think I have a pair of warm-ups in my locker and I’m sure Santana’s bound to have something in hers too. You can at least be more comfortable for your last class.”

Brittany finally nods, “Yeah okay. You can text her.”

Quinn only smiles in return before she’s reaching for her phone.

\\

Santana practically comes running into the bathroom with a stack of clothes under her arm. Her expression goes from hurried to concerned when she finds Brittany leaning against the counter with her clothes stained red.

“Shit,” Santana gasps and throws the clothes at Quinn. As soon as she’s close enough, her hand goes up to cup Brittany’s cheek, “You okay?”

Brittany leans into the touch and smiles, “Yeah. I’m fine. Just frustrated, I guess. I’m glad Quinn was there though. I might’ve done something stupid if she wasn’t.”

Santana nods and whirls around to Quinn, “Who did this?”

Brittany goes to cut in but Quinn’s already answering.

“Who do you think?” Quinn replies, “Karofsky and Azimio were there too. Not with them, but they didn’t exactly do anything about it either.”

“Son of a bitch,” Santana snaps as she starts to pace, “That motherfuckering fuck! I’m going to load up on slushies, see how he fucking likes it. Or maybe I’ll use something worse like…like dry ice.”

“Where are you going to get that from?” Quinn asks while Brittany looks on worriedly.

“I don’t know, Q. I’ll figure it out!” Santana brushes off, “I swear, I will go all Lima Heights and they’ll regret the day that they decided, that they even thought about doing this to – “

When Santana turns to Brittany, she pauses upon seeing the blonde’s expression.

“Please don’t,” Brittany says.

“But –“

“No more fighting for you,” Brittany tells her sternly. She pushes off the counter and goes to run her hands down Santana’s arms calmingly, “I don’t want you to get into any trouble over this, over me.”

Santana’s jaw tenses. She looks conflicted, “You can’t let them get away with this, Brittany.”

“I won’t. I told my guys no more slushies or fighting, I can’t go back on my word now just because I’m angry. I’m not going to feed into this bullshit.”

Santana shakes her head, “No. Now is not the time to be diplomatic.”

“It’s also not the time to get even.”

“She’s got a point,” Quinn mentions from behind them. Santana glares at her while Brittany gives her an appreciative nod.

“Listen,” Brittany says softly to Santana, “I know you’re angry, baby, I’m angry too. I’m really, really angry but I was always taught that you can’t act on anger. Violence doesn’t solve anything, we have to go about this differently if we want there to be actual change.”

Santana relaxes just a little more, “I’m more of a punch the crap out of them now and ask question later type of girl.”

“I know you are,” Brittany smirks, “I’ve got something in mind for Azimio and Karofsky. Just let me take care of this.”

“Fine,” Santana lets out a deep sigh, “But if I come across any of them off of school property it’s fair game.”

“I,” Brittany starts before she relents with a smile, “Okay.”

“Maybe you should get changed, Britt,” Quinn steps forward to offer the clothes.

Brittany nods and takes the stack, “I’ll be just a sec.”

Santana nods too before leaning in to kiss her cheek.

\\

When she comes out, Brittany’s wearing Quinn’s pants and Santana’s Cheerios jacket. She glances at herself in the mirror and chuckles.

“Feels weird not wearing a shirt under this,” Brittany comments.

“You didn’t have an extra shirt?” Quinn asks Santana.

Santana shrugs, “I just cleaned out my locker yesterday.”

Brittany looks to the Co-Captains and replies, “It’s okay. I only have to sit through one class anyway. Speaking of which, we’re all super late.”

“Ms. Holliday will understand,” Santana says before looking to Quinn, “You on the other hand are screwed.”

Quinn rolls her eyes and Brittany instantly feels guilty.

“Crap. You wouldn’t have been late if you didn’t help me,” Brittany says.

“Don’t worry about it,” Quinn brushes her off, “I’ll just get Ms. Pillsbury to write me a note. I’ll see you guys later.”

Surprisingly, Quinn gives the both of them a hug before she’s on her way.

Santana raises her brows at it but she doesn’t comment. Instead, she looks to Brittany and smirks.

“What?” Brittany asks as they head out of the bathroom too, “Do I still have slushie dye on my face?”

Santana chuckles cutely, “No. It’s not that.”

“Then what?”

Santana slides her arm through Brittany’s and gives it a squeeze as they walk in the direction of Ms. Holliday’s classroom, “I’ve seen plenty of girls walking around here wearing someone else’s letterman jacket, but I’ve never seen someone in another girl’s Cheerios jacket before.”

Brittany looks to Santana and chuckles, “Yeah? How’s it look?”

Santana just grins, “Hot.”

Despite the weight on her shoulders, Brittany can’t help but laugh.

\\

By football practice, every single Titan knows what the Puck Heads did and they are pissed. Brittany worries that they might have an all out brawl afterwards and that’s not what anyone needs right now. She does her best to keep the peace still even if she’d also like to punch Rick in his dumb face.

“I’ll talk to their Coach,” Coach Beiste says in hopes to calm the team down, “Their behavior is unacceptable and I’m sick of no one dealing with it. Don’t worry, Pierce, there will be repercussions to their actions.”

Brittany nods, “Thanks Coach.”

“I just can’t believe they went after Pierce like this,” Finn snaps.

“I bet they waited until she was alone,” Puck adds, “Just like the punks they are! They wouldn’t dare go after her if we were there.”

“We should’ve been with her,” Mike says to Sam.

“But our classes are on the opposite side of the school?” Sam frowns.

“So? Britt needs a security detail.”

“No I don’t,” Brittany cuts in, “I don’t need a security detail like I’m the President or something. And I wasn’t alone.”

“Wait, what?” Finn looks confused, “You mean Quinn?”

Brittany shakes her head, “No. I mean Azimio and Karofsky were there.”

“What?!” They both snap.

Coach Beiste looks at them expectantly, “Is this true?”

“I don’t know what she’s talking about,” Karofsky tries to lie, “I wasn’t – “

“Don’t,” Brittany stops him and turns back to the team, “Why would I lie about this? What would I gain by throwing half of my O Line under the bus? They were both there and neither of them did anything, but is anyone surprised?”

Mike glares at them, “Nope.”

“Not even a little,” Sam adds.

“I’m really disappointed in you two,” Coach Beiste says, “What the hell were you two thinking?”

“What did you want us to do?” Azimio tries to defend himself, “She’s got that stupid no slushie policy in place!”

“You could’ve asked if she was okay? You could’ve gone to get a teacher. You could’ve let me know so I could talk to their coach? Literally anything that would’ve made you look like a team player, that would’ve shown that you care about everyone on this team.”

Azimio and Karofsky look away guiltily.

“You have proven to me and everyone on this squad time and time again that you aren’t team players and I’m done. There is no room for that kind of behavior here,” Coach Beiste says with a kind of finality that makes everyone perk up.

“Wait,” Karofsky pleads.

“I’m done with the excuses and this was the last straw!” Coach snaps, “You’re both off the team.”

“But the Championship game is in two days!” Azimio implores.

“I know when it is!” Coach replies loudly, “And you know what? I’ve got a friend from Ohio State coming to watch too. Maybe he’ll pick some of you up, but not you two.” Coach turns her steely gaze on Azimio and Karofsky, “You two will be watching from the stands – if I even allow that.”

“But – “

“Go!” Coach tells them both firmly, “Clean out your lockers and leave.”

Neither of them say another word and sulk off of the field. Brittany just stares wide-eyed. She didn’t think Coach would go that route – actually she wasn’t sure of the route at all – but she’s glad this was taken so seriously. Those guys have been skating by for so long, she’s glad something’s finally being done about them.

“Anyone else not want to be a team player?” Coach asks.

No one makes a sound.

“Okay good,” Coach smiles, “Now about this recruiter from Ohio State. He’s a good friend of mine but he’s hard to impress. Very high standards so play well because Cooter just might be your ticket into OSU.”

Brittany’s heart rate spikes. She’s heard of the possibility of a recruiter attending this game since the beginning of the season, but now that she knows it’s actually happening she needs to be on her A game. She needs to push everything else aside for now and focus on football and winning this game because –

“Wait,” Finn says with his signature dopey, confused look, “His name is Cooter?”

Coach Beiste nods.

“Cooter…the Recruiter?” Finn adds and Puck’s already snickering.

“That’s unfortunate,” Kurt jokes flatly and the rest of the team starts to chuckle.

“Cut it out,” Coach warns, “We’re going to be training harder than ever for the next couple of days. I’m extending practice for two hours in preparation for the rest of the week. We’re not getting this far only to lose. That’s not an option for us.”

Brittany nods; she’s right about that.

[elysiashelby]

In Another World - T.Shelby Imagine Ch. 21

Paring: (Eventual) Thomas Shelby x Aliena Welsh (OC)

Fandom: Peaky Blinders

Word Count: 13,178

WARNINGS: ANGST, Cursing, Fluff, Mentions of Sexual Activity (Semi-Explicit), Smoking, Brief scenes of Arguments/Fights, Mentions of Blood, “Vivid” Murder Scene

Summary: A direct continuation from the previous chapter, Aliena takes Michael to the spot Tommy reserved for her and they talk. Michael is introduced to the family. Ali and Tommy are somewhat strained again, but is that a good or bad thing?

MASTERLIST   CHAPTER 20  CHAPTER 22

A/N: This chapter is crazy long! I was not expecting to have so much to write about in this chapter. It’s kind of filler, but it’s happier than most of my chapters. Anyway, from this chapter to the next, I’m going to be messing with the timeline a little. So, if you’re a real stickler for staying with timelines, this is going to irk you.

Oh! Sorry for this sorry excuse of a GIF. The clip I used for Aliena had a boy next to her and this was the best way to make sure your focus staying on the chapter, if you get what I mean?

I doubled over on my knees as I panted for air. Michael was faring far better than I was. 

“Why. The. Hell. Were we running?” Michael asked.

I held a finger up as a hand flew to cover my mouth. I pivoted my body away from his direction, held my hair back as much I could, and let the contents that filled my stomach escape me. 

Michael muttered. “Christ!” Then, he helped me hold my hair away from my face and rubbed my back. 

I was finished soon enough. I spat out whatever remained in my mouth before laughing while I sniffled. I stood up straight and wiped my mouth. “Um, we were running because I thought it a good idea at the time. Anyway, come on. We’re not too far from it now.” I waved my hand over in that direction before walking ahead.

I kept leaning as I walked, and my body felt like jelly— but I’d rather be doing this, feeling this than be at the house. 

Michael cleared his throat before asking, “Did you ever tell me your name?”

I furrowed my eyebrows as I looked at him, still walking. “Um, ya know what… Oh my god, I don’t think I told you my name. I’m Aliena Welsh, but everyone usually calls me Ali.” I extended my hand for him to take which he did.

“Henry. Uh, wait. Michael, um, Michael Gray.”

I giggled into my free hand. “I know. Remember?”

Michael chuckled sheepishly while he rubbed the back of his neck. “That’s right, you know me.” There was some silence between us before he asked another question. “You said you worked as the family maid, right?”

I nodded.

“Forgive me for assuming, but how come you look-?”

I interrupted him with a cackle. “How come I look as posh as you?”

Even in this dark night, I could see the blush on his face. “Ye-yeah.”

I sighed as I hiked my coat up to cover my shoulders. “I have rich friends. They buy me stuff from time to time, but I have my own money. Your cousin and mum pay me two pound.”

Michael scoffed. “That’s a lot of money.”

I nodded to myself. “I know. Well, I know that now. I grew up in America, but I was born in Liverpool. Basically, I only knew the US currency system when I arrived back. I figured two pound was an appropriate amount of money for being a maid to such a big family, but now I’m not too sure.” I chuckled at the end of my sentence. I looked up at Michael and smiled.

I gasped as the sight of my parents’ gravestones as they came into view. I grabbed Michael’s hand as I said. “Come on. We’re here!” I began running over to their gravestones.

“Wait! Where the hell are we?”

I didn’t answer him until we were standing in front of them. I walked behind the gravestones and leaned down on them. “These are my parents. Just their gravestones, so you don’t have to be creeped out abar it. Tommy, your cousin, bought me them for my birthday. Well, he bought me ma’s on my 17th birthday and me da’s on me 18th. But, yeah. This little area, even that swing, is mine.”

Michael bent down taking off his cap as he did so, and read them. He peered up at me. “Tommy, he’s the one with the car, isn’t he?”

I nodded. “Yeah.” Actually, the whole family had cars of their own. ‘Cept for Ada, she didn’t want one.

Michael dusted off his cap on his thigh before standing up. “Can you tell me more about them? My family.”

I nodded and then jerked my head over to my swing. We walked over to it and I took a seat facing him, while he leaned against the tree. “Let’s see.” I began. I kicked off my shoes and started to swing a little. “Let’s go in order. Your mum, Polly, is company treasurer. She’s also the heart of the family. She’s not afraid to hit you when you’ve done something stupid or to piss her off, but she’s also incredibly kind. She just looks intimidating.”

I took a deep breath and leaned my head back. “Arthur Shelby is your oldest cousin and the most physically dangerous. He fought in the war alongside his brothers and friends. He packs quite the punch, but he’s a sensitive man deep down. So, as long as you're good with him, he’ll be good with you. Might tease ya ‘cause he can, but doesn’t everybody do that?” I looked up at Michael and we both shared a chuckle.

I cleared my throat and the smile on my face disappeared. “Thomas Shelby is the boss of the family and company. What he says is almost always law. Nothing happens in Birmingham without your cousin knowing. The cops here have less power than him.” I grunted as I gained more momentum in my swinging. “His looks are as intimidating as your mother’s, but unlike her— he doesn’t have a soft side. So, do not go fishing for it or expect it. Um, I’m sure there’s more but I can’t think of anything.”

I cleared my throat again. “Ada Shelby is your only female cousin. Ada lives in London now, so you will rarely see her in Birmingham. She has a son named Karl and her husband passed recently. He died in January. Ada is a communist, but we love her anyway. Yeah, she’s sort of strained in the family right now ‘cause she doesn’t approve of the business.”

I stopped swinging and let myself relax. “John is the third eldest of the men of the family. He has five children. He is one of the smarter ones of the family. He takes care of the books and he has a wife named Esme. She is the mother of his youngest child. She did not give birth to John's first four children. John can pack a punch as well. Um, don’t tell him a fucking thing! His lips are as loose as a… Um, a goose? Is that the saying?”

I shrugged my shoulder then sat up straight. “Finn is the last of the Shelby clan. He’s only little, 13. I think. He does little things for the family, but all you need to know is that he’s the youngest.”

Michael nodded and kicked himself off the tree. He took a few steps and then motioned me to join him. I hopped off the swing and jogged to stand next to him. “Tell me about yourself then. How did you get to know them?” He said.

I giggled then yawned. “Alright then. My da’ died in the war. That was the beginning of my problems. My sister and I weren’t really on good terms, so she didn’t help me and my mum. So, we struggled a lot. Eventually, my mum told me we were heading to England, but she wouldn’t tell me what for. She took sickness on the journey and died. I walked aimlessly around England. I didn’t remember a thing from when I was eight. I ended up in Small Heath. I fell asleep behind some barrels using my suitcases as pillows when Jeremiah, the city’s preacher found me. He introduced me to your cousins and they took me in. That was… Three years ago.” I nodded when I was done talking.

“I’m sorry you had to go through that.” Michael said.

I shrugged my shoulders. “I’m okay. I’m sorry for what you had to go through. If you don’t mind me asking, were you ever going to search for Polly? Like, do you even remember what happened? How she looks like?”

Michael cleared his throat and scratched the back of his neck. “Um, it’s alright. I’m not sure. I’m still 17, so I couldn’t really leave the house yet. I was debating trying to find… Polly, but yeah. I did think about it. I remember a little of what happened. That day, but I can’t remember anything before that. I, uh, I don’t really remember how Polly looked like.”

I nodded and hummed. “She’s beautiful, really!”

Michael chuckled. “Really?”

I nodded, enthusiastically. We laughed again. The two of us then circled back to the swing and while I sat on that plank of wood— Michael sat down on the grass in front of me.

“Are you not cold?” He asked.

I shook my head. “No, not really. And I have a lot of alcohol to thank for that. Why are you?”

He shook his head. “No, but you’re wearing less than me. That’s why I was asking.”

“Oh.” I drew out while nodding my head. I yawned and sniffled again.  

 We talked more. We talked so much that I was eventually yawning between every word I was speaking. I grew tired of sitting on the swing and I laid down next to where he sat. I guess Michael didn’t like looking down on me like that as he soon laid beside me.

I yawned. “When we head back to the ‘ouse, you need to stay outside. Polly will eventually come home ‘n you’ll be escorted inside. When we meet inside again, you need to greet me as if we’ve never seen each other. Got it?”

“Loud and clear.”

“Good.”

I managed a couple of more sentences before my eyes did not want to lift anymore. I whispered. “Wake me up at dawn, will you?”

Michael whispered back. “Can’t make any promises.”

We woke up when the sun was up. That’s all that matters at this point. As we were walking back, I groaned under my breath. “My feet hurt!”

Michael laughed at me. I blew raspberries at him. Michael looked over at me before he asked. “Do you think my mum is already there?”

I shrugged my shoulders. I hummed ‘I don’t know.’ We trudged all the way over to the house. As we stood outside the door, I pointed at him and said. “Stay.”

Michael glared at me before smiling and shaking his head. 

I snickered before opening the door to the house. “By the way, you might want to try and get off any grass you may have on your back. See ya later.” I closed the door in his face and headed up to my room. 

I stood in front of Tommy’s door and just tried to listen to see if anyone was in there. When I couldn’t hear anything, I went into my room and began getting ready for the day. 

I was asleep for about three to four hours, and I woke up with a nasty hangover. As I stared at the bed beside me, my body was begging me to lie down. But, I couldn’t. I had to work today. There was no Advil or Ibuprofen until 1961. The only thing we had was morphine or opium. I was never going to take the latter, so I was raw dogging the hangover as always.

I covered my face with my hands and sighed deeply. I threw my head back and groaned softly. I wiped my make-up off and reapplied some foundation and concealer. Foundation for the bruise on my chin and concealer for the dark circles under my eyes. 

I looked at myself in the mirror and felt nothing. 

Last night did not go how I wanted it too. Again, I don’t know what I wanted to happen, but I didn’t think Tommy and I were going to be strained again. Fuck, I can’t believe I caught him in his little escapades again.

If I had to compare the two, this one hurt more. Not only because it was raw, but because I wanted him last night. I wanted something like that for us. But it’s just my useless pinning. God, was I obsessing over him? I hate myself.

I squeezed my eyes shut and cringed. I huffed, angrily, before I yanked off my bra and put a comfier one on. I put on a long skirt and a jumper. I put my hair up messily, not really caring how I looked, before heading downstairs.

Walking straight into the kitchen, I found it empty. I pursed my lips at the sight ‘n shrugged my shoulders. I began my job by getting a kettle of tea on for Polly then I made some eggs and sausage. 

The door opened and I knew who it was. I could hear the excited chirping of Polly before she crossed the threshold of the kitchen. 

“Oh my-, Aliena! Come ‘ere!”

I turned around. Polly and Michael were standing there side-by-side. Polly’s hands hovered over her son’s shoulders, an ecstatic smile on her face. It would seem that the smile was contagious since all three of us were smiling now. 

Polly continued. “Ailena, it’s Michael! My son. Michael, this is Ailena. She’s our maid but we don’t treat her as one. She’s been with us for three years and she’s around your age.”

I walked forward and we shook hands while simultaneously greeting each other. I said. “I’m making eggs and sausage. Would either of you like some?”

Polly looked at Michael expectantly while the latter glanced at her as well. 

He nodded. “Yes, please. I’m starving.”

I nodded and turned back around, but I was stopped by Polly. “Wait, Ali, love. Go on, sit down. I got it.”

“Are you sure?” I leaned closer to her and whispered. “I can take care of this for you and you can talk to ‘em.”

She shook her head. “I want you to sit down with him.” 

I nodded and flashed her a smile. I faced Michael, pulled out a chair for him before taking my own. I let them talk and sat there quietly. Not like I wanted to chime in on the conversation anyhow. My head was pounding and I just wanted to go to sleep.

I wanted silence and serenity more than anything. I pinched the space between my eyes and took a deep breath.

‘Good thoughts only, Aliena. Good thoughts only!’ I tried soothing myself. It works sometimes. 

The plates clattered as they were set down on the table. I opened my eyes and smiled up at Polly. I dug into the scran I made as slowly as I could manage. However, the rubble in my stomach was not going to let me get away with such a slow pace. 

“Aliena, have you had any schooling?” Michael asked.

I picked my head up and covered my mouth as I replied. “I finished secondary school, but obviously— I never went to a uni.” 

He nodded and asked. “What’s your plans, if you don’t mind me asking?”

I shook my head, my gaze fluttering toward Polly for a second. “I don’t. Um, I’m not sure. I wanted to become an author, but I’m not sure if that’s still on the table for me. Right now, I’m content with where I am. You?”

Michael stammered for words. “I’ve taken courses. Excelled in mathematics, but I’m not sure. I’m thinking of getting an accounting job as soon as I can. Maybe even something else in that field. But, yeah.”

I nodded. “Cool.”

Polly came over with the kettle, poured both of us a cup, and asked Michael. “How was it?”

While looking up at her, he replied. “I was starving, so I would have eaten anything. But really it was super.”

Polly and I shared a small chuckled, but she repeated his word. “Super.”

Never hear that ‘round here.

Michael asked Polly. “So, uh, are you a cook?”

“Not a cook. No.” She set down the kettle and got a cup for herself, scrunching her hair as she did so. I knew she was trying to look her best given the circumstances.  

As she took a seat, Michael began talking, “The man who came to the house, he was driving a posh car. He looks rich. What does he do?”

Polly finished pouring her cup as she answered. “He works with horses.”

‘What a blag! Polly, ma’am!’ I thought as I took a sip of tea. My eyes widened and fluttered comically. 

“Really? I love horses. I got a bay mare.”

“No.”

“I ride it all the time.”

Polly waved out her hand as she said. “Then, it’s in the blood.”

I was busy eating my breakfast. I wasn’t going to interrupt their bonding moment any time soon. Even though Michael's eyes kept flickering toward me.

Their eyes locked, and Michael had a smile on his face “I’ve got about a million questions.” He said.

“So do I.” 

“I’ve had different pictures in my head.”

“Well, here I am.” Polly went for a ciggie while Michael stirred his tea a bit more. Polly moved some of her hair away from her face before asking,“It's all right that it's me, isn't it?”

‘Should I? Shouldn't I? Fuck it, I want one.’ I reached over for Polly’s case, and I gave her a look asking for her permission. She nodded at me while she was exhaling. I got one and lit it up.

“I don’t have any choice.” Michael replied. Polly stubbed out her ciggie as Michael continued. “I mean, you are who you are, aren't you? We don't choose. And that's it.”

I took a long pull and exhaled it slowly. 

“Yeah, that’s right. God gave you to me. People took you away.” Polly reached for his hand and grasped onto it. She took a deep breath before placing her other hand onto their grasp. “And it is all right that it's me, isn't it? In a place like this.”

Michael looked around as if he were thinking about it. “I thought it would be worse.”

Polly and I let out a little laugh while Michael just smiled. However, the moment was ruined when Arthur’s booming voice could be heard from outside.

Arthur shouted while bursting through the door with John. “Run for the hills! It's the Digbeth Kid!”  

I covered my mouth as a way to stifle my giggles. 

“Get out of town, kid, or I will shoot your fucking head off!”

“Time’s Up! Pew!”

I was cackling, bad. I doubled over and tried hiding myself with the table. Polly and Michael’s chairs scraped the floor a little as they stood up. 

“You’re dead. Go down. John!”

I wish I could say there was nothing but silence; however, my cackling was filling the room. I held my breath and sat up straight. I moved around in my chair, trying to get comfortable and act right. I looked at John and Arthur and snickered. I muttered under my breath, “I’m fucking dead.” I shook my head as I stifled my laughter while looking down. My body jostled up and down.

As John was putting his gun away, he reached over and tried swatting me. I yelped and tried hitting him back. I cleared my throat as I sat back down. I looked down at my cigarette to see it’s almost finished. 

They finally snickered as Arthur said. “All right then, Polly. Who's this?”

The boys looked at me with a mischievous smile and found one on my own. I reached for Polly’s case and got myself another.

Tom said. “Gentlemen, this is your cousin. Polly's son, Michael.”

The looks on Arthur’s and John’s faces were wiped off and a serious look replaced it. I won’t lie. When Tom spoke, I looked at him. A pain shot through my heart, it confused me. So, I numbed it with a quick drag. 

Michael walked over to Arthur and shook his hand then John’s. “Pleased to meet you.”

“John.”

“I'm Arthur. You've already met me. I used to throw you out of the window, so John could catch you.”

“Yeah. I used to put you in a shoebox and kick you down Watery Lane.”

Everyone was smiling except for the two troublemakers over here admitting their evil deeds. 

Tommy chimed. “I bet you’re glad to be back.”

Michael laughed before saying, “I don't remember any of it. All I remember is the day they took me away.”

I looked over at Polly who looked like she was about to cry from the statement. She walked over to Michael and cupped his face. I averted my eyes.

I knew I was not the only one who looked away as she hugged him. Arthur and John did the same.

When I decided to look back, Tommy began to speak. “Well, you’re here now, son.” Tommy put a hand on Michael’s back. “Welcome to the Shelby family.”

Arthur chimed in. “Later on, we'll show you the ropes.”

While, John added. “Mhmm. Yeah, we'll show you what's what.”

I knew Polly sent Tommy a wary gaze. She didn’t want Michael anywhere near the family business. Poor her.

“Let's leave him be for now, eh? Come on, boys.” As Tom passed by me, he stole my ciggie from my hand. “Ailena.”

“Thomas.” I replied in the same tone as him while arching a brow. 

“Nice suit.” Arthur said to Michael. 

Polly chuckled before looking back at Michael, fixing his bowtie. Michael looks like he’s been starstruck. 

“They seem nice.”

I snickered, looking away immediately after the fact. I looked back at the pair just as Polly began to speak.

“After having a bit more of a talk, how about going with Aliena for a tour of the city? I have a bit of business I need to tidy up and then I’ll be done for the day. What do you both think?”

Michael and I shared a look. I gave a quick smile, nodding. “I’m fine with it.”

“Then, I’m fine with it too.”

“Wonderful,” Polly cheered. “Come now, the both of you.” She took Michael’s arm before walking over to me, and pulled me up to the living room by my arm. 

For a while, it was an A and B conversation where C would pop up from time to time. I had to pretend to be engaged, otherwise, Polly would see my head tipping back and she would drag me into the conversation. 

Eventually, Polly let out a huge sigh and stood up, which made Michael and I follow suit. “Well then. I should head to the office to finish up my business. Ali, show Michael around the city, will you?”

I nodded. “‘Course, Pol. C’mon, Michael.” I walked ahead of him and out the door. Once he closed the door behind him, I dropped my facade and groaned loudly. 

Michael chuckled. “How do you think I did?”

“Someone call a film director and give this man a job.” I giggled. “You did good. I can honestly say I couldn’t lie to your mum for months, but you did it so flawlessly.”

Michael dropped his jaw while scoffing. “Was that supposed to be a compliment?”

I shrugged my shoulders as I began to walk backwards. “Take it as you want it. C’mon, I’ll show you a couple of spots I love.” 

We talked as I showed him Mrs. Davies’ Bakery as well as a few other food joints. I wasn’t going to tell a blag, I’m not an experienced tour guide. So, I’m winging it.

We stopped in front of Arthur’s flat when I sighed. “Alright, I had about enough of this. Did you say you had some lodgings elsewhere?”

Michael struggled to find his words. “Uh… Ye-yeah! I did, why?”

I rushed forward and took his hands into mine. “That’s great! Let’s go.”

“What? You haven’t even finished showing me the city yet.”

“The city will still be there after a nap. I know you’re as desperate as me for some sleep. Now, c’mon before I get anymore grumpy. And you won’t like me when I’m grumpy.” I began walking forward, pulling him behind me.

Michael scoffed. He repositioned our hands, increased his pace, and began pulling me instead. “You don’t even know where I’m staying.” He grumbled.

I chuckled. “That’s true.” 

We walked to where he was staying. Got a look from the lady at the desk, I knew she knew me. Michael unlocked his door and noticeably swallowed. He clutched the cap in his hands tightly while smoothing his hair down. “Um, so this is it.”

I rolled my eyes, pushed him out of the way, and flopped down on his bed. I let out an exaggerated sigh of relief. “Finally, a damn bed!” I closed my eyes while I situated myself on the bed. “C’mon, Michael. Join me.” I patted on the space beside me.

“I can’t possibly-!”

I opened my eyes and glared at him. “Why not?”

“It’s… We hardly know each other.” His face was beet red.

I rolled my eyes again. “Relax. I’m practically your sister, you know. Your mum says she sees me as her daughter.”

“Yeah, but you’re not.”

I hmphed. “Fine then. Sleep on the floor. Wait for mo’! We slept near each other out in the field. How is this any different?”

“This is a bedroom. My bedroom. I’m still a man, you know.”

I let out a cackle. “Don’t flatter yourself, Michael. I can defend myself, so stop arguing and lay down beside me. If you don’t want to, I’m not gonna force ya. But, just know you can.”

I rolled over and faced the wall. I scrambled under the blankets and closed my eyes. I tried going to sleep, but I couldn’t with Mr. Modest standing over there, fidgeting. I didn’t feel at ease until he took the space beside me. The bed dipped and then I felt his presence next to me.

I smiled and finally went to sleep. I woke up sometime in the middle of my nap. Let me rephrase that, Michael woke me up in the middle of my nap. Without opening my eyes, I croaked. “What do you want?”

“I need to use a telephone. They don’t have a working one here.”

“Nearest one is at the Garrison. Go bug Arthur or Tom. Piss off.”

Through squinted eyes, I could see Michael slip out the door. I rolled back over and fell back asleep.

I grunted as I was slammed against the wall. I met his fervent kisses with the same passion. They were so sloppy to the point where he was about to ruin this for me. I tugged him away by his hair and presented him my neck. 

He didn’t waste any time kissing, sucking, and nipping. I let out a sigh that was cut off by my smile. I couldn’t deny the pleasure he was giving me. The target tugged my face in his direction, capturing my lips again before I felt his hands under my knees. 

I jumped in his arms. He whisked us into his office and closed the door behind us. We threw ourselves in a kiss once we heard the door slam shut. He reached up and pulled out the pin holding my hair in a bun. Well, it was my wig, but same thing, for now. 

I parted from him and shook out my hair. He tugged me back down before slamming me against another wall. I grunted, but I can’t deny the pleasure I felt from the pain he caused me. I scratched his face and neck which spurred a groan from him. 

I squealed as he ripped open my shirt. ‘Fuck, I’m getting carried away.’ I thought, a lapse of sanity taking over, thank god! But it faded as he began to suck on the top of my breasts. I hugged his head closer to my body which made him chuckle. He whisked me around again and I giggled. 

He held me tight to him as he bent us over, and used his arm to wipe away everything on his coffee table. He laid me down on it which made my head fall back. He didn’t waste any time paying attention to my breasts again. 

I craned my head up and looked at him. ‘Fuck, fuck fuck! This feels so good.’ I let out a sigh, a sigh I desperately tried to keep in. I bit my bottom lip and let my head fall back again. 

The target trailed his kisses down from my stomach to my ear. He whispered. “I’m going to make it so you’d never want another man again.” He chuckled into my ear and the spell was broken. He fucking broke it by opening up his mouth.

I smashed our lips together before I reached into his coat, grabbed the gun, and pulled the trigger multiple times into his side. 

He fell to the side, gasping for air. Deadpan, I took my time getting to my feet. I bent down and watched as he struggled to breathe. I was panting a little, my heart still racing from the adrenaline. 

I smiled when he took his final breath, what a malicious smile it was. I stood up and walked over to the mirror he had on his wall. I fixed up my lipstick and tried to fix any other blemish.

“Fuck!” There was fucking blood on me. I walked over to the fireplace, wiped the blood off my stomach, and then tossed the shirt in it. The shirt didn’t burn instantly, but it was a nice sight. I turned around, picked up my hairpin and walked out the door. I got my suit jacket from off the floor and buttoned it all the way up. 

I didn’t stop for anyone as I walked directly into the car that was waiting for me outside. 

“Successful, Ms. Welsh?” Chris, my now permanent driver, asked.

I looked at him through the rear view mirror, sporting a smile. “Of course.”

He smiled back at me before taking off from the company headquarters we were at. 

Who calls for a whore so early in the morning? And to meet up at their job, no less! Jesus christ! It’s too bad, he was quite the looker. 

Finger traced over my swollen lips.

I won’t deny that I wasn’t thinking straight. I’m so sexually frustrated. I touch myself when I can, but I’m 19-years-old! I’m an even older virgin! 

I rested my cheek on my closed fist. 

God, I can’t believe my infatuation with Tommy is so bad that I imagined him while I was doing that. The only reason I could prevent myself from going any further was ‘cause that idiot broke my fantasy. He opened his mouth and I realized he wasn’t Tommy.

I rubbed my forehead and huffed. ‘Now, I’m even more frustrated.’ I reached down on the car floor and pulled the suitcase to my side. “Keep your eyes on the road, Chris.” I ordered before I began unbuttoning my suit jacket.

“As always, Ms. Welsh.”

I smiled before shrugging off my jacket. I tugged my regular work dress over my head and smoothed out any wrinkles. I reached down and tugged my heels off to replace them with some shorter heels. Then, I took off my wig. I placed all my items into the case, and threw it back down. 

“You know what to do with it right.”

“Of course, Miss. I’ll incinerate it right after I drop you off.”

“What happens if you try to betray us and try to turn this in as evidence?”

“That won’t happen, Ms. Welsh. I promise you.”

“Answer the question, Chris. It’s procedure.”

He cleared his throat. “Mr. Johnson will kill me and my entire family.”

“Right.” I hated doing this part. Chris really was a diligent worker, but I get why I have to do it. Some dogs like to bite the hand that feeds them. 

We arrived a few blocks from the main house. I climbed out of the car and walked over to the driver’s side. I smiled at Chris, thanking him for the ride. He tipped his hat before taking off. I jogged over to the shop side of the house, entering it. Men shouting over each other made me sigh. 

I’m just glad I didn’t have to deal with it today. 

I walked into the kitchen and passed by the living room where Polly and Michael were sitting. I plastered an innocent smile on my face as I began to spew bullshit out of my mouth. “Sorry, I’m late. It took a little longer than I thought.”

Polly shook her head. “It’s all right, love. How did he take it?”

I shrugged my shoulders. “Turns out he was cheating on me, just like I suspected.”

Polly tsked before rushing from her seat to hug me. She whispered in my ear, “I’m so sorry, love. Maybe next time.”

I hummed and nodded. We parted and gave each other a grin. Polly looked over at Michael and said. “Come now. I want to show you my house.” 

Michael got up from his spot on the couch and walked over to us. I went ahead of them both, opened the door, and then waited for them to exit the house. Then, the three of us walked over to the garage.

“Do you think I could give it a go?” Michael asked as we stood in front of Polly’s car.

I looked over at her to which she met my gaze. She opened her mouth letting out a drawn out, “Uh...”

Michael began pleading his case. “I have experience, promise.”

Polly’s mouth smacked before she spoke. “Oh, all right then. Here you are. Promise to be careful.”

“Of course.” 

We all walked to our respective seats, but as Michael passed me— I obnoxiously signed the cross. 

“Oh, shut it!” He muttered as he bumped my shoulder.

“Knock it off, you two.”

I cackled all the way till I sat in the back. The ride was hectic to say the bloody least. The boy was gassing it and breaking hard. I’m just thankful we made it to Sutton without an accident or whiplash.

He pulled up to the house with a screeching halt. Polly’s hand was clutching the outside of the car door for dear life as was mine. 

“That was great, well done.”

I scoffed. “Don’t lie to him, Pol. We were holding on for dear life.”

She sighed. “Out we get then.”

I laughed as I climbed out. Polly swatted me gently on the stomach with the back of her hand. 

She whispered. “Don’t tease him so much.”

With a shit-eating smile on my face, I rolled my eyes. “Fine. I was only joking anyway.”

Polly flashed me a smile of her own before taking my arm and walking toward the house. Once we were on the pavement, she let go of my arm to lean into Michael and talk to him using her ciggie. 

She used her ciggie to point toward the house in front of us. “This house is mine. I’ve taken on a different maid. Aliena isn’t a maid here. She’s my guest, so make sure to, you know, treat her as you’ve been. Anyhow, I told her to make up the big room for you.”

Michael crossed his arms as Polly flicked her ciggie away on the street. “Come on, let’s have a look.” She said while walking ahead of us.

I bumped purposely into Michael and jogged to meet up with Pol. I looked behind me and he was chasing after me. I screamed a little and ran faster. 

“Oh, enough the both of you! Acting like children!” Polly tried sounding scoldin’ but she was laughing through her words. 

Michael and I ran around the front yard a little before I let him catch me in his arms. He carried to the front door before setting me down. 

“Go on.” I said while tucking away pieces of hair that had blocked my view. “Unlike you, I’ve already seen the place.”

Michael nodded. “Okay, then.” 

I was the last one to walk in, so I closed the door behind me. I could see Michael’s figure disappearing in the living room, so I followed suit. 

I could hear Polly say, “I thought we could spend the week here.” Polly walked to the other side of the coffee table while Michael and I took a seat on the couch. “You know, get to know each other again.”

It got quiet between the three of us, which Polly disrupted. “I've got ham. Do you like ham?”

While nodding, Michael said. “I like ham, yes.”

“I do too.” I chimed in, trying to hide a smile. I felt bad like I was interrupting a moment, but it would be weirder for me not to talk from time to time. 

Polly took a side step, placing her gloves into the bowl on the coffee table. “I’ve got a maid.” Her tone was nervous. Instantly, made me feel for her.

“Yes, you said.”

I tsked and smacked Michael’s arm. He gave me a look and I gave him one back. 

“She’s upstairs. She can give us some tea. Look, I ring this bell. Watch.” Polly took the bell that was resting on the coffee table and rang it.

Under my breath, I grumbled. “I’m bloody well glad I never had a bell to be beckoned with.” Though, I did notice that Polly looked really happy. 

Footsteps echoed behind us and I craned my head to face her. She looked like a young adult. Older than me, at least. Good.

“Yes, madam.” She said.

We all just sort of waited for one of us to say something, or perhaps I was missing a cue. 

Michael looked to the side a little as he said. “I think we'd like some tea.” 

I watched as the maid walked out of our sight. I raised an eyebrow at the sight. I was never like that.

“You get used to it.” Michael added.

I looked back at him, well more like I looked down at him since I was sitting on the couch on my knees. I muttered. “Cheeky bastard.” And I smacked his arm. This caused another fight to break out.

“Will the both of you fucking stop it all ready!”

I don’t know why Michael and I acted so well together. It was like I gained an annoying little brother. Honestly! Talking to him is fun, though, I do get bored from time to time. His list of subjects to talk about is as limited as mine. Makes it quite difficult. 

Oh and play fighting! That’s all me. I take responsibility. I provoked him the first time we ever play fought and it became a trend. It’s improper for the time, I understand, but nevertheless. I’m not from these times, and he’s one of the only males around my age. I’m used to roughhousing with John and Arthur. I think it happened only once with Tommy. I think.

I was walking back to the main house after dropping off Tommy’s laundry at his flat. I had to make dinner for Finn. Polly and Michael were back at the house in Sutton. Arthur elected himself my appointed driver to take me to and from the house. As Polly stated before, she doesn't want me sleeping at the main house by myself. Finn gets to stay with John or Arthur. I mean, Tommy is a choice too— but, is he really?

I was chuckling to myself when I bumped into someone. I gasped and instantly began apologizing. “I’m so sorry! I was lost in thought and I should’ve been-!”

“Ali! Ali, it’s all right. It’s just me.”

I finally looked the man in the eye and sighed in relief when it was just Tom. 

Ah-! Just Tom. Tom, who I have not spoken to privately since The Garrison’s reopening. The Tom, who I heard having a threesome. Tom. Yeah, okay.

“Ugh, in that case, watch where you’re going.” I shook my head, giggling into my hand. Tom let out a little snicker.

“Right, well. I wanted to see if you’d notice that I was walking toward you. You didn’t.”

I spluttered into my hand, embarrassed. “Alright, alright. Did you need something, Tommy?” ‘Yes, yes… Keep this nice and calm, Aliena. You know nothing and yet everything. God, let me just ascend, right now!’ I took a calming breath, which was actually very loud.

Tom averted his gaze, his eyes wide, and his jaw dropped before pursing his lips. “Polly told me yesterday that you went to break up with one of your gentlemen fellows.”

I furrowed my eyebrows and waved my hands in a “stop” gesture. “Wait, wait, wait! Did you refer-? Did you just say “gentlemen fellows?” ” I blinked dramatically as I leaned forward. I snickered while turning my head away.

“All right, calm down, Aliena.”

I turned my head back and nodded. I held my breath and then let out a sharp exhale. I met his gaze and bit my cheek to prevent my anxious laughter. 

‘I don’t remember the name I gave this boyfriend. Please don’t make me say a name!’

Tommy stared at my face, almost inquisitively. I could see his hand inch closer to my face through the corner of my eye. 

Tommy took a step closer to me, cleared his throat, and asked. “Can I check Ali?”

I exhaled quickly through my nose before nodding. 

With his thumb and index finger, he held onto my chin and checked my face for any new bruises. He rubbed away what little foundation I had covering my almost healed bruise and then stared at it for awhile. 

His touch was comforting even if it was just as little as this. His plump lips were so close to mine yet far away given our height difference. He still had a nick on his cheek, not fully healed. It may never and leave a scar behind. I can’t remember fully if it really did leave a scar. God, this man. He makes me want to spew poetry. I swear to all that’s Holy! 

As he dropped his hand from my face, he said. “Well, then. It would seem someone’s eyes were spared today.”

“Ha!” I threw my head back. “What’re you talkin’ about? Are you trying to tell me that you would have hunted this guy down and blinded him all for my sake?” I smiled and shook my head.

Quickly, Tommy held my face and brought my gaze up. “Ali, when have I never not fought for your… honor.”

I blinked as I thought about it for a moment. I held onto Tommy's wrists and chuckled with a smile. “Oh, that’s right!” I let out another set of breathy chuckles.

“We care for you, Ali. I care about you.” Tommy flashed me a grin. Keyword, flashed.

I let go of his wrists and he let go of my face. I nodded, feeling heat overwhelm my face and neck. 

Tommy smacked his mouth before saying, “There’s another thing I wanted to ask you about,.”

I hummed.

“The night of the party, you never came home. Where were you?”

I furrowed my eyebrows. “How would you know if I was or wasn’t home?”

Tommy was deadpan, no room for laughter. I so badly wanted to say something, but I held my tongue. “I slept in my room that night.” He admitted.

I hummed again this time with more judgement. 

‘Crap, crap, crap! Who do I say I was with? I could say I was with John, but then again he’s a bit fucking slow! He or Esme will probably ruin it themselves. And if Finn crashed with him that night, the little bugger will rat me out! Same thing if I say Arthur. He’ll question it before agreeing to it! Or just flat out say no! I can’t even say Polly! Everyone knows she was fucking with that young guy!’

I huffed, hung my head, before looking back up at ‘em. “Right, well. I didn’t spend the night at anyone’s house. I walked all the way to my little space and spent the night swinging.”

“By yourself?”

I nodded. “By myself.”

Tom sighed. “Ali, you know it’s dangerous to be out alone at night. Especially some ways out of the city.”

I tsked, “I know, I know! Things are sensitive right now with the gang entering the London war. Yada, yada, yada! I was drunk, won’t do it again. Promise.” I looked up at him and smiled toothily. I fluttered my eyelashes and asked, cutesy. “Forgive me?”

Tom snickered while shaking his head, his hands in his pockets. “Whatever as long as you know not to do it again.”

I sighed while rocking on the heels of my feet. “Well, anyway. Where you headin’, Tommy?”

Tommy replied. “Charlie’s Yard. Some shipments came in and others need to be exported. Want to pay me Uncle a visit and see them load them. What about you?”

“Oh! I have to head back to the house and make dinner for Finn. Whenever the lad straggles back in. He’s honestly like a stray cat, that one. After that, I’m headed over to Cassie’s. Polly gave me an early weekend.”

Tommy took out a ciggie and held it between his lips as he said. “Ah, Polly! Feeling quite generous right now, isn’t she.”

I replied back with the same tone while cocking my head. “Isn’t she?”

We shared a chuckle.

“Well, then, Tommy. Good luck with your Uncle.”

“Aye. Good luck with dinner.”

We walked our separate ways. That awkwardness that I had when I first began speaking to him vanished into thin air.

I sighed contentedly as I threw myself back onto Cassie’s bed. “Ah, I missed this place.” I crawled over to Cassie, who was sitting on the edge of the bed, and wrapped my arms around her shoulders. “I missed you the most, though.” I rubbed my cheek against her shoulder and huffed. 

Cassie giggled at my antics, a hand reaching behind herself to pet my head. “How have you been?” She asked.

I sighed, resting my cheek on her shoulder. “Hmm. My life has certainly been eventful these past few days or rather weeks.” I took a deep breath before sliding off her shoulder and laid down next to her.

“Polly, my female boss, admitted to me that she thought of me like a daughter. I didn’t know how to feel about it really. I liked it at the time, but now I don’t really care. I just feel like her feelings are really flexible, you know? I don’t know.” I shrugged my shoulders as I let the piece of hair I was holding fall back down. 

“Then, I got into this little argument with Tommy. Hold on, hold on! It wasn’t a serious argument, but there was one, nonetheless. He apologized at this party he threw for the pub’s reopening.” I sprang up from where I laid to my knees. I took her hands and put them onto my lap. “Oh my god! I forgot to tell you. I got all dolled up for the party right. I don’t know what I was expecting to happen, but I wanted Tommy to look at me.”

I inched a bit closer to Cassie, who fixed herself to look at me more clearly. “Well, after he apologized he called me beautiful. So, I had my intended effect for a while. However, I couldn’t get him alone after that since like I was talking to other people. Then, he had a cob on from still being in a fight with Polly, and he sort of took it out on me. He apologized right away and agreed to dance with me. Right! Forgot to tell you, I asked him to dance but he said no and that I should sit down ‘cause I was drunk. I was a little drunk, but the way he said it— I didn’t appreciate it.”

I squinted my eyes and gestured “a little” with my hands. “Anyway, when we were dancing— I noticed his attention was not fully on me, so I wanted a break. I freshened up, right, and when I came back, he was gone. When I went home, he was at the house instead of his fucking flat— fucking two girls in his room!” I nodded my head as Cassie gasped, covering her mouth. 

“Aliena, no way!” She exclaimed while smacking my thigh.

I nodded, tears slightly stinging my eyes. “I dressed up for him, kind of made a move. And he still didn’t choose me.” I gnawed on my lip while shrugging. My gaze was on the floor. 

Cassie sighed and grabbed my shoulders, squeezing them comfortingly. 

I sighed, dabbing away at my eyes. “It’s like I’m scared, Cass. I’ve been smitten with Tommy for so long, right? Practically obsessed with the man at this point.” I scoffed while rolling my eyes. “I can’t even explain why I’m so taken with him. It’s just like my soul and my heart reach out for him.” I shook my head as my tongue prodded the inside of my cheek.

“I just feel that once I confess to Tom, right, and get rejected… I’m going to throw myself into the world. But in a bad, unhealthy way. It’s hard because we are both not getting any younger and I’m tired of pinning over him, yet I don’t want to confess either.” I hugged Cassie and hid my face in the crook of her neck. “Oh, Cassie. I don’t know what I’m going to do.”

Cassie hummed, stroking my hair away from my chest and toward my back. She rocked us from side-to-side ‘n we stayed like that. 

“Aliena, how did you get that bruise on your chin?” Cassie asked me.

My eyes flew open and they widened in shock. I focused on not tensing my body or changing the pitch of my voice. “The bruise on my chin. Oh, I got it from Arthur. He hit me by accident. He was ‘aving an episode.”

Cassie pulled away from me, violently. Her grip on my shoulders hurt. “Aliena, stop lying to me.”

I scoffed with a smile. I shook my head. “I’m not lying to you-...”

Cassie rose to her feet and shouted. “Stop fucking lying to me! I saw you, okay! I saw you with my dad! Are you-! What are you doing with my dad, Aliena?”

I held Cassie’s gaze for a while before I looked down. I tried racking my brain for a lie, but one wasn’t coming up fast enough. How did I know one didn’t conjure up fast enough? Well, it’s because I was struck across the face.

Cassie slapped me across the face as she sobbed. “Don’t try lying to me, Ali, please. I know you’re trying to think of some kind of story to tell me.” She hissed, “I. Know. You.”

I sighed and looked away. “Cassie, I-!” I swallowed harshly before continuing. “It’s not like I-! Fine, I didn’t want you to know because I don’t want to fucking parade this kind of information around. And it’s not like I could bring it up in easy conversation, okay? I realize I should have told you to avoid a misunderstanding, but again— it’s not fucking dinner or tea time talk.”

I took a breath before I told her everything. “On the morning after I killed the man who raped you, I took a job from your father. It was a contract killing. He paid me £1,500 to kill some lawyer, and I killed him. That’s what I’ve been doing, okay? I’m a contract killer, an assassin, a murderer. Cassie!” I rose to my feet and gripped her forearms. I jerked her around as I yelled. “Huh! Well, say something, Cassie! Say something!”

Inside I was nervous out of my mind, but outside I was cold. How was I supposed to feel? Would I lose my best friend? I know we share similar views, but we’re not the same person. We’re both warped, but we only talked about these violent events in theory alone. Now, I was actually committing the things we’ve talked about.

Cassie sniffled before saying, “HOW-! How-?”

“How what, Cassie? Spit it out!”

“How can you do something like that! How can-? Why are you doing this, Aliena? Is it because of me?” Cassie was a mess. She was practically wailing at this point. 

I shook my head. My emotions were getting the better of me as I felt my throat constrict and my eyes sting yet again. “Cassie… No. It’s not your fault. It’s not your fault. I’ve always had it in me. That night, it wasn't the first time I had killed someone. I already knew I was capable of it, and-!” I took a shuddering breath as I averted my gaze to the ceiling. “When your dad gave me the chance to make that kind of money he was offering, I had to take it.”

I dropped my gaze back at Cassie and cradled her face. “I’m not with you for your money, Cassie. It’s a job. A job I can do well. Please understand, I would never hurt you. Please. Please. Please.”

 I kept begging her and hid my face in her neck. Cassie took loud inhale from her mouth, it stammered as she did so. My shoulders shook as I cried into her neck. When I felt Cassie’s hand stroke my hair and the other rub my back, I let my sobs become more vocal.

Cassie and I fell to our knees and we hugged each other. Comforted each other.

I wailed into her neck. “I don't know! I don't know why!” 

And I truly didn’t. There’s no real logic as to why I’m assassinating people, not in this situation. I can’t tell her that I’m preparing for a life on my own. I can’t tell her that the money I get from these completed jobs will allow me to live on my own in England or perhaps in America. So, I stuck giving her these stupid nonsensical half-truths. 

“You hate me now, don’t you?” I whispered, a hiccup messing up my words.

Cassie replied no with a sigh. “No, of course not, Ali. What hurt the most was that you didn’t tell me sooner. I almost thought that you were prostituting yourself or you were with my dad...intimately.”

I laughed at that. “Oh, Cassie. While your dad is certainly still attractive, I could never do that to you besides...”

“I’m/You’re totally in love with Tommy/Thomas Shelby.”

We belted out with laughter, our foreheads resting together. 

Cassie leaned back and wiped away the snot that was leaking from her nose. I did the same. She said softly. “Ali, how could you ever think I wouldn’t understand? We’ve murdered a man together, remember? You fucking idiot.”

I chuckled while shrugging my shoulders. “I just didn’t want to ruin anything.”

“You’re a bloody idiot, Aliena.”

I smiled. “At least, I’m rarely an idiot.”

She scoffed. “Yeah, that’s best for everyone.”

Silence fell between us before she asked. “How does it feel? Killing someone for money.”

I hummed while looking away and hugged my right foot closer to my body. “Well, it depends on the person and the method. But I can tell you one thing. When I see their blood, feel it, it’s like a high I can’t describe. My reactions just become so raw and get the better of me sometimes. Like I just want to smile and laugh hysterically, but I got to run so... I can’t allow myself to do it for too long either. Other times, I feel nothing. Nothing at all.”

“Do you regret it? Like are you haunted by it?”

I shook my head while pursing my lips. “No. Not one bit. It’s a little frightening, to be honest. How I’m so at peace with myself, you know? I don’t know how many people I’ve killed, but I can fall asleep easy at night. Their screams and pleas don’t haunt me.”

Cassie nodded. “You are so badass.”

We laughed again and I pulled her into a hug. “I love you, Cassie.”

“I love you too, Ali.”

“I’d do anything for you.”

“Me too.”

We parted from our hug a little and shared a kiss. I stroked her cheek with my thumb and stared into her blue eyes.

I whispered. “I think you’re one of my soulmates, Cassie.” My mouth smacked as I said through gritted teeth. “Please, don’t ever leave me or betray me or break my heart.”

Cassie nodded. “Never. I ask you the same.”

I smiled. “Never.” 

Cassie joined me in my smile and we hid each other’s faces in our necks. 

Thank you, God. Thank you, higher power, for blessing me with my soulmate.

I groaned in discomfort as there was this continuous ringing annoying me. Through squinted eyes, I reached for the phone. 

“Suite 226, Ritz Hotel.”

“It’s Tommy. I’m calling a family meeting, get here quickly.”

I tried to find words, but ultimately I said. “Right, yeah. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“Good.”

Then, he hung up. I put the phone back on the receiver and flopped back down with a sigh. I looked to my left where Cassie laid asleep on my arm. 

 “Who was it?” She grumbled.

I was rubbing the sleep out of my eyes as I replied. “Tommy. It was Tommy.”

“What’d he want?”

“He’s calling a family meeting. Wants me to be there.” I looked down at her and smiled, sadly. I began to get up, but Cassie wrapped her arms around my stomach preventing me from going any further.

She groaned, exaggeratedly. “Nooo! You’re mine for the weekend. You promised.”

I chuckled as I twisted my body to stroke the top of her head. “Cassie, they probably won’t even need me for that long. I’ll come back.”

“You can’t promise me that.”

I huffed as I roughly rubbed my forehead. “You’re right. I can’t.” There was a silence between us. 

Cassie let go, using her hands to support herself. “Fine, whatever. You better come back.”

I smiled as I rose to my feet. “I will! Okay, I’ll see you later. Go on back to sleep.” I patted the pillow I was laying on before walking over to the sofa that had my clothes. I was wearing nothing but a tank top and panties. 

I looked back at her just in time to see as she pshed me while moving some of her hair away from her face. “Do you even know what time it is? No, I’ma get ready for the day. Same as you.”

I heard her throw off the duvet and stomp away to, perhaps, her drawers. I picked up my bag and tried some appropriate clothing. I wasn’t intending to see them at all till I came back, so I didn’t pack any “modest” clothes. 

Unfortunately, I had to settle with yesterday’s clothes which was, unfortunately, a short, purple floral dress. A very short and modern dress.

As I was tugging on my white, knee-high socks, I asked. “Cassie, could you ring Simmons for me, please?”

“Yeah, alright.”

I rolled my eyes. I really didn’t want her ‘ave a cob on for the rest of the day. 

Cassie tapped my shoulder as I was putting on my shoes. “He’s downstairs. Just hop in the car when you’re ready.”

I nodded. “Thanks.” I sat up straight and patted her arm as she was knelt over the sofa. I stood on my knees and gave her a toothy smile. “Forgive me?”

She hummed. “It’s not your fault, so there’s nothing to forgive. But! If you don’t come back, then you’ll have to beg for forgiveness.”

I nodded, tapping her arm a few times before I kissed her on the cheek, and made my way to the door. I put on my coat, and flicked out my hair. “See you later then, Cass!”

“Bye!”

I made my way down and into the car. Simmons already knew where I was headed, so I didn’t have to say anything but a greeting. 

I can’t remember the exact reason for this family meeting. Only that I have happiness associated with the memory since I have the urge to laugh, all of a sudden. 

I ran a hand through my hair and tried to relax.

I can’t describe how liberating it was to finally tell Cassie. I won’t tell a blag. I was never planning on telling her. I just wasn’t. There was no maliciousness behind it nor guilt from me. I just didn’t see a need for her to know. 

But now that she knew and understood, I can rest easy. Well, easier. 

“We’re here, Ms. Welsh.”

I smiled at Simmons through the rear view mirror and thanked him as I climbed out of the car.

“Do I wait for you, Miss?”

I stammered for an answer. “Uh, um. N-No. I’ll have someone else drive me. Thank you, Simmons.”

He tipped his hat at me and then started up the car. I twirled around, walked toward the door, unlocked, and walked in. I closed the door behind me, took off my coat, hung it up, and began making my way into the shop. 

I barely crossed the threshold when I was taken into someone's arms and spun around. I giggled hysterically, my arms wrapping around John’s neck. 

“Here’s the little songbird! We were just talking about ya, Ali.” John shouted in my face.

My jaw dropped as I let out breathy laughs. “Oh, really? Alright, you had your fun. Now, put me down, ya big oaf!” I smacked his shoulder.

“If you want something, you gotta ask nicely. C’mon, Ali. Even my kids know that.”

Tom cleared his throat which caught both of our attention. He scratched his cheek with his thumb before saying, “John, put her down.”

John made a face. A face that asked why, and I smiled smugly at him for it. 

“You heard the man. Put me down.”

John scoffed. “I don’t ‘ave to listen to him.”

I “ooohed” at the statement. But my smugness was short-lived as John spun me ‘round again. I held onto the man tighter, but my legs were swinging in the air. I hadn’t wrapped my legs around him in fear of showing anything. That’s how short this dress was.

“John!” Tommy yelled. “Stop spinning her ‘round and put ‘er down!” He made a face, one I couldn’t decipher. And neither could John, apparently.

Arthur’s mouth smacked before he pointed at us with his hand. “John, you’re showing her knickers for fuck’s sake!”

John let me go like I burned him ‘n I was glad for it. I tsked, pulled my dress down, and made sure to smack him across the chest a few good times. John snickered as always.

I hissed while still smacking him. “You fucking divvy!”

John shouted. “All right! All right, Ali! I’m sorry.” He caught my wrists and apologized one more time.

He had such a smile on his face that I couldn’t help but mimic it. I pushed his face away from mine as I muttered. “Oh, do one, will you?” We both snickered before finding ourselves a spot to stand. I was leaning against the wall next to John, my legs a little ways out in front of me. My back was arching and I was paying attention to my nails.

Tom cleared his throat again before walking up to me. He whispered. “Ali, how about you head upstairs and change, eh?”

I snickered at him. Looking at him as if that were the most ridiculous thing he’d ever said. I whispered. “I’m alright.”

His jaw clenched. He nodded his head as he looked away. “Alright.” 

I tried thinking of reasons for him telling me that. I wasn’t going to get myself in another situation like the one that just happened. So, what was the big deal? Perhaps, it’s because this dress has a v-neckline as well.

Tom walked away and I never took my eyes off him. I didn’t look away as he looked back at me. It wasn’t a long shared glance since he was the one to break it first.

I sniffled before I bumped my shoulder into John. “Oi, you got a ciggie?”

He shook his head. “Nah, but hold on. Arthur, give one over, yeah?”

Arthur took out his carton, lit one up, and then passed it to John. John passed it to me and I nodded to Arthur.

“Anything for you, songbird.” Arthur chimed.

I chuckled before blowing out the smoke. We had to wait a little more till Polly’s car could be heard pulling up from outside. As Tom told John to get Polly and Michael, I walked over to the table to stub out my ciggie. 

I was walking back over to the wall I was leaning against, when I heard the door open behind me. 

From behind me, Polly said. “This had better be good to interrupt my holiday.”

I took my place as Polly quickly stood in front of the little table that was in front of Tommy. 

“Where’s the boy?” Arthur asked.

As she was setting down her things, she answered. “In the back room. I only brought him because afterwards we're going to the museum.”

John chimed in saying, “He wanted to come in and say hello—”

“Shut up, John. There is nothing of interest to Michael in this room.” 

I knew I wasn’t the only one who was shocked by her statement. My eyes blew wide and I fought off a tight-lipped smile. 

‘Fuck, her eyes settled on me!’

Polly scoffed. “Ali, what in heaven’s name are you wearing?”

“I-!”

She blinked dramatically ‘n jerked her head back as she did so. Polly held up both of her hands before taking a deep breath and faced Tom. “Oh, Tommy, get on with it.”

My jaw dropped a little and I peered up at John, who gave me a similar look of astonishment.

We both turned to Tommy just as he clasped his hands together again. “Last night, one of our men had his throat cut in Winson Green. This morning, I had a telegram saying it was Sabini who ordered it.”

“And it says here that Thomas Shelby's next.” Arthur said as he ripped up the telegram.

Tommy continued. “If our men think we can't look after them in prison, they'll not work for us. Sabini knows that. So we need to get the Green sorted out. Scudboat, you and one of the boys break a couple of windows, get yourselves arrested. I'll have our coppers get you into the Green and you can find the bastards who did it.”

Scudboat asked. “Instead of breaking a window, can we pinch a car?”

Everybody in the room began snickering, except for Polly, Arthur, and Tommy. 

Scudboat continued. “What? Everybody else is getting a bloody car.” It made everyone snicker even harder. “I'm still on a donkey.”

Tommy took back control as he said. “All right, just get yourselves fucking arrested, it doesn't matter how. And before you all laugh, a boy is dead.”

Yes, that’s very sad, but that was too fucking funny. 

I turned away and hid myself in the wall, my hands covering my face. I stumbled as John pulled me into a hug. I couldn’t stop bloody laughing!

“He was just a kid. We'll start a fund for his family, Pol.”

“Agreed. So is that it? Can I go now?”

I turned back around and quietly thanked John for helping me. 

“Well, as company treasurer, I need your permission to spend 1,000 guineas.”

“On what?” 

“On a horse.”

“A thousand guineas on a horse?”

Tommy nodded. “That’s right.”

Polly took a moment, taking a couple of steps back with bewilderment on her face. “When was this decided?”

“You've been busy with Michael.” 

“Oh, my God. So, in the absence of common sense, you boys have had an idea.”

“Polly, there's a thoroughbred, quarter-Arab filly up for auction at the Doncaster Bloodstock.”

“What do we want with a 1,000-guinea horse?” 

“When we make our move on Sabini's racing pitches, any men we get into the betting enclosure will be lifted by Sabini's police. A good racehorse is a passport to the owner's enclosure.”

I knew Arthur was about to chime in and soon after that it would be Loose Lips McGee over here. I began rubbing my lips together harshly as a way to hide my smile.

Arthur said. “We'll be in there with all the toffs. Coppers won't know where to look.”

“Hmm.” John began. “Yeah, the Epsom Derby, Pol. We'll be drinking with the bloody king.”

Polly exclaimed “The Derby?”

Tommy and Arthur both looked at him mean. I snickered and whipped my head away. I used my hair as a shield.

“Did he say the Derby?”

I cleared my throat, faced them again, and held one of my wrists in front of me tightly. I was still rubbing my lips together. A sharp pain erupted on my chest and I groaned softly. I snarled at John and struck him back while hissing, “Watch it! You hit my boob.”

He resorted to snickering.

Tommy sighed, almost defeatedly. “That’s right.” He cleared his throat. “For the last 10 years, Sabini's made it his race. If we're going to take him down, might as well make it there, as a symbol.”

Polly asked. “Did you come up with this idea in a pub by any chance?”

“Pol, good racehorse is an investment, like property. We need to diversify the portfolio.”

‘That’s a load of bullshit!’ I smacked my hand over my mouth and rocked on my heels. 

“So when is this sale?” 

“Tomorrow.” 

Arthur said. “Tommy's had a death threat, so we'll have to go with him for protection.”

Rather irritated, Polly said. “So, you're going to close up the shop, go out on a piss-up and blow 1,000 guineas on a horse that's not even whole Arab.”

Curly’s laughter caught everyone’s attention. “Quarter-Arab is better! Quarter-Arab, it means—”

“Curly, shut up.”

That’s when Michael came ‘round from behind John ‘n stood beside him.

Polly was quick to yell at John. “I thought I told you to lock that door.”

Michael said. “He did. I used the key on the nail. Look, I've been listening. I want to go with them.”

Polly flailed her hands up as she yelled. “You see?” She was looking right at Tommy. Crossed her arms when she was done.

Michael tried pleadin’ his case. “I love horses. I could even help.”

“Over my dead body!” 

“It'll be all right, Mum.”

I couldn’t help but notice how much Polly softened as Michael called her mum.

“I've been to loads of horse auctions before with my uncle. They're very respectable. People bring their butlers.”

With a glass raised near his mouth, Arthur added. “Yeah, and their posh wives!”

“And their mistresses.” John said as he elbowed his cousin, playfully.

Arthur said while takin’ a drink. “Let him come, Polly. We'll go there, buy an 'orse, come back.”

John tried helping his cousin as he said. “I'll drop him back at the house in Sutton before it gets dark.”

Polly began shaking her head, tears barely forming in her eyes. “No. Fucking no.”

I pulled back my lips making an “Eee” kind of face before pursing them and looking away with my eyes closed. I knew all three of them were disappointed like little kids. Like little kids being told they can’t have a sleepover.

I could hear as Michael walked away then papers ruffled, and finally, the slam of the door.

Polly looked at Tommy, who was nodding.

He smacked his mouth before saying, “All right, that's it. Back to work. Come on!”

I headed out, posthaste. I caught up with Arthur and clapped my hands on his shoulders.

“Arthur!” I shouted. “Give me a ride to Cassie’s, will ya?”

“Cassie? Your mate’s?”

I nodded while humming.

“All right, hop in the car.”

After Arthur dropped me off at Cassie’s, we soon got a call from Angie. Said she wanted us to be at some event next morning. It was really fancy and I would have to dress nice. There was to be a dress code as well. All white. So, the next morning, Simmons dropped me off at the house in Sutton. As Michael was getting ready to go to the auction— I got ready for the event.

I wore a real modern dress. I got it made by the same person who Tina had make my birthday dress. It was a white, spaghetti strap, fit-and-flare dress. I had a white, fur-lined coat to go with it. 

I barely styled my hair, just swept it to one side, really. My make-up was done in lighter shades and I added on jewelry. Had on my heart-shaped locket necklace and wore my pearl earrings. 

When I was done slipping on my white heels, I trotted downstairs. I peered into the living room to see Michael showing off his new suit to Polly. I chuckled breathily at the sight before stepping outside.

I waited on the steps for Cassie to come ‘n pick me up. I rummaged through my purse for my lighter and my cigarette case. I put one between my lips and lit it up. I took a long pull and then slowly exhaled. My coat fell from my shoulders and into the crooks of my arms, but I didn’t care to hike it back up.

When I saw that ugly truck pull up, I smiled. I knew it was them ‘cause of the episode. John parked then hopped out of the car. I met him halfway as I ran into his arms.

I squealed as he twirled me around in the air. 

“What’s up with your clothes nowadays, Ali? Looking like a rich girl.”

I cackled, mischievously with my head thrown back.

I was put down for a second before I was whisked up in the air again. 

Arthur boomed. “Isn’t she a sight Tommy?” He set me down then hugged me from behind.

I couldn’t stop laughing. “Oh, let me go! Don’t mess up my hair!” I broke free from Arthur’s hug and pushed him away from good measure. With my free hand, I patted down my hair.

“Eh, where you going lookin’ like that, Aliena?” John asked.

I sighed. “One of my friends invited me to a party-event-thingy! It has a dress code. All white. And it’s posh people only, hence, the extravagance!”

I looked at Tom from the corner of my eye. I couldn’t read his face.

He nodded before asking, “ And who paid for the dress, Ali?”

I furrowed my eyebrows, confused. I took a drag before I said. “I did.”

He clicked his tongue and said “oh,” almost mockingly. 

I walked closer to him and shoved him, playfully. “I’m not telling you a blag. I bought it myself. I had it custom made. Tina referred me to her dressmaker.”

He hummed and nodded.

I prodded my cheek with my tongue. I gave him a shit-eating grin as I said. “You know, the event is for horses. There's going to be a game of polo or something.” 

“Lucky you.”

I scoffed. I didn’t manage to make him smile. Yet. I tiptoed, gaining some leverage by using his shoulder as I whispered into his ear. “You know, Polly’s inside making sandwiches for youse.”

“What?”

I let go, covering my mouth as I nodded. “She’s making sandwiches and put tea in a canteen.”

Tommy ran his tongue along the inside of his bottom lip before smiling while shaking his head.

When there was screeching down the road, our heads whipped around to see who it was. Angie pulled up, roughly.

“Oi, Aliena! Get your arse in this car! I’m about to kill Cassie.” Angie screamed while leaning out the window.

Cassie peaked out her head shouting, “Ali, she’s being mean to me.”

I squeezed my eyes shut looking away from them. I tsked, opening my eyes, and flicking my ciggie away. “Shut up, will youse? You’re fucking embarrassing me!” I shouted at them.

Arthur passed us, saying, “This kid. Fuck it! I’m honking the ‘orn.”

I giggled at the man. I sighed looking back at Tommy. I ran a hand over his arm before I said. “Good luck with your horse, Tommy, and be careful.”

“Yeah, I will. Have a good time.”

While walking backward toward Angie’s car, I replied. “Oh, I will!” I turned around and walked correctly. Just as I hopped inside the car, Arthur began his honking. I giggled again.

The event was fucking boss, la. I never thought I would have so much fun at a posh party. The only reason it was fun was ‘cause my friends made it so. Angie and Horace had so much sexual tension, but Angie-! She was playing the game. Good for her.

I mean the dude has liked her since childhood, but men! “Men go for whoever their dicks point at,” as Polly said. Cassie ended up meeting a man. Oh, he was so handsome!

If I wasn’t so in love with Tommy, I would have wanted to pay this lad some attention. Name was Douglas Clayborne. Anyway, she ended leaving me alone for ‘em. Not that I minded. I wasn’t as anxious as I used to be when I was younger. 

Psh! I was, I would have prevented her from leaving with him. I would have asked to join them, at the very least. But that phobia’s been squashed. I’ve killed more than twenty people in my life. There’s no room to still be anxious about the world. 

I’m the danger people have to worry about now.

Anyway, Horace ended up driving me home. Tina and Angie were incapacitated. When I walked through the door, Polly was there near the entrance of the living room. She was clearly not expecting it to be me, but greeted me, nonetheless. 

I told her all about my day. As I was talking, Michael came home. She asked how it was, smelled his breath, and did all that. I smiled as Michael told her a blag. 

When we both headed upstairs, I congratulated him for being about to lie. He smirked saying he had no clue what I was talking about.

After that I went to get undressed; however, I was pulled back down soon after. John had thrown pebbles at my window. He came to get me to help with Arthur. I sneaked downstairs and hopped into the car. He told me what happened, even though I already knew.

I spent the night tending to Arthur’s knuckles, cleaning off any blood on him, and then getting him into new clothes. That took a while and some persuading. I had to crash on the couch once I got him to sleep.

Fucking, christ! Can’t have one thing to myself. I sighed, exhaustedly. 

TAG LIST: @amirahiddleston @nemesis729​ @salvatoreitmeanssaviour @tlfshelby1 @halepea @lilymurphy03 @marsfireeyes @masumiyetimziyanoldu @i-love-superhero​ @thatweirddaydreamer​ @xxbeckybeexx-blog​ @ilikealotofpeople-younotsomuch​ @well-hydratedpvssy​ @the-jess-life @babaohhhriley

[msmarvelouswinchester]

Love In Sin

Chapter 7

Summary - Special Agent Winchester is forced to go undercover with his frenemy Special Agent L/N when they try to track down a notorious drug dealer. How will Y/N and Dean complete their task? Will their relationship worsen or will new feelings emerge between them?

Pairing - AU Detective!Dean Winchester x Reader

Series Warnings- Angst, Slow burn, Fluff, Implied Smut, Mentions of crime and drug, Swearing.

Chapter Warnings- Fluff, dirty talk, swearing, CLIFFHANGER

Word Count- 1.3k+

Square filled- Dirty Talk ( @spndeanbingo )

A/N - Finally the new chapter is here (sorry for the delay guys). Enjoy reading this chapter and SO SORRY FOR THE END!

Also this is third time I am posting this. (Stupid tumblr won't let me use the keep reading feature)

Beta'd by @deanwanddamons (she is an amazing person as well as an amazing writer)

Spn divider by the talented @talesmaniac89

Series Masterlist

You were awakened from your deep slumber with a start. Blinking a few times you registered the blaring alarm. You tried opening your eyes but your head started throbbing the moment your eyes focused on the blinding morning light.

Struggling to reach towards your alarm, you finally managed to shut it off and nestled deep into the blanket, when you realised that you were not alone in your bed.

You looked to your side and saw Dean lying on his stomach. What was with him and climbing into your bed in the middle of the night? You then noticed that he didn't have a shirt on. You lifted up your covers to confirm your worst thought, but sighed in relief after you saw you were fully clothed. You continued to stare at him with widened eyes.

“I can feel your eyes burning holes in the back of my head, Y/L/N,” Dean grumbled and turned towards you.

“What are you doing in my bed, again? Why are you not wearing a shirt?” you asked him.

“Just stop talking.” he said, rubbing his temples.

“Dean?” you said, grabbing his shoulder and shaking him a little to wake him up, which made him squeeze his eyes shut and he rolled on his back to face you.

“What?” He groaned, opening up one eye to look at you.

“We didn't do...you know-”

“No. You don't remember?”

“Nope.”

“Nothing? Seriously? You just got complete, black out drunk?”

“Maybe,” you sheepishly replied.

“Great! Well, we didn't have sex if that's what you're askin’. Since you can hold your alcohol very well,” Dean teased, “you were so drunk when we finished the bottle. I had to carry you up and I fell asleep here. Though, I can't promise you didn't do or didn't try to do some stupid things while you were drunk.”

“What stupid things?” You were mortified.You didn't trust your drunk self at all.

“Nuh-uh. No more questions until I have my coffee,” he said and climbed out of your bed and made his way to the kitchen. You stayed in bed for a few more minutes trying to remember any of the stupid things you might have said or done, but your entire memory of the drunken night was fuzzy so you gave up and went to the kitchen to join Dean for a coffee after freshening up.

“Here,” Dean passed you a cup and sat down at the table with one of his own.

“This is what being alive feels like,” he sighed in contentment after taking a sip of his coffee. You rolled your eyes at his antics.

“Dean, what stupid things did I do?” you asked again.

“I won't ever tell you. Those are classic blackmail stuff,” he grinned at you.

“Did you-did you record me when I was drunk?” You gulped.

Dean smirked at you and shrugged.

“You didn't,” you glared at the detective in front of you.

“Oh I did,” Dean said, “I just didn't record the moment when you started to come on to me. That was embarrassing but you were persistent - you even offered to go down on me.” He chuckled as you buried your face in your hands.

You were beyond horrified. Your drunken self didn't just tell Dean that she was willing to give him a blowjob. You felt your face was on fire.

“What else...did I-I do?”

“Not much.” You understood Dean wouldn’t budge. He wasn't gonna tell you anything. You sighed.

“What's the plan for today?” You asked.

“Act normal.”

“We are normal.” You rolled your eyes at him.

“I meant let's pretend to be all lovey-dovey and do things that couples do. Mr. Singer sent me a text saying that we should do something to make our cover more believable,” Dean shrugged.

“Okay. What do you have in mind Mr.Campbell?” You played along.

“Lunch, movies and sex, Mrs. Campbell,” he teased.

“I am not having sex with you, Winchester,” you warned.

“Just sayin’, you were pretty persistent last night, sweetheart,” he smirked.

“I was drunk and I don't even know if you are lying or not,” you pointed out.

“Why would I lie?” Dean said and got up from his seat.

“I don't know.” He walked over to you.

“The offer still stands though. I promise you won't be able to walk properly for a week,” he whispered in your ears. A shiver ran down your spine. You swallowed hard. Dean Winchester had a strong effect on you, but you wouldn’t let him see it. You turned your head to the side and looked at Dean.

“I bet you can't even satisfy me,” you teased. Dean looked at you, his eyes darkening. The look on his face was enough to make you wet. You seriously needed to get laid. He leaned into you, tilting his head. Was he gonna kiss you again? He was so close, you could feel his hot breath. Your heart was beating a mile per minute.

Dean moved his head to the side and whispered in your ear, “Don't challenge me, sweetheart.” His lips brushed a spot on your throat, making you whimper.

Dean moved his face away from you, straightening his shirt. He had a cocky smile on his face. That son of a bitch.Well, two can play that game.

“I am going to take a shower. Wanna join me sweetheart?” he smirked.

“No thank you.” you huffed. He gave you a shrug and went towards the bathroom.

You sighed loudly and didn't leave a kitchen even after you were finished with your coffee. You were trying hard to maintain professionalism, but every damn time that son of a bitch was in the room, all your professionalism flew out of the window. You heard the bathroom door open and close, which hinted that Dean was out of the shower.

You left the kitchen and while going to your room, collided with a wall of muscles.

“Whoa! Careful there Y/N,” Dean caught your arm steadying yourself.

“Yeah sorry.”

“No I was in a hurry and I didn't see you there,” Dean said.

“Where were you going?” You asked.

“I think Crowley is trying to trap us,” he frowned.

“What?” You asked.

“Yes, his right hand man wasn't at the party. What if it was just Crowley trying to set us up?” Dean said, his brows knitted together.

“I mean it's not impossible, but how does he know about us?” You asked, a little unsure, “why would he do that? It's not like anything eventful happened at the party?”

“What if he has someone in the feds? And maybe he wanted to….uh-I don't know, I'm just spitballing here. What if he wanted to divert the attention from him? Lead us onto another path?”

“There is a possibility but-”

“But? I know it all sounds a bit unrealistic but what if all this is a trap?”

“I really don't know, Dean!” You exclaimed, “but do you really think someone in the feds would go that low and turn on us?”

“Then what do you think is the reason for the person to not show up at the party?” Dean raised an eyebrow challenging at you.

“I-” you sighed aloud.

“I don't want that assumption to be true either but we have to cover every possibility - even going at lengths to suspect each other. Crowley is one sly bastard. He can do anything to escape the feds, again,” Dean said, scratching the scruff on his face thoughtfully.

“I hate it when you are right,” you mumbled, as his lips twisted into a slow grin.

“Oh get over it! We all know that I am the best detective in the whole world,” he gave you a smug smile.

“Do me a favour and please stop talking,” you groaned.

“I should alert Mr. Singer about this,” Dean said, all playfulness leaving his face.

You opened your mouth to speak, but was cut off by two harsh knocks on your door.

You and Dean shared a look.

“Are you expecting anyone?,” you whispered.

“Stay behind me,” Dean said and made his way towards the door slowly. He opened the door and looked at the men in front of him.

“Yes?”

“The Campbells? You're under arrest for being in possession of Class A drugs.”

Let me know if you want to be tagged in the series!

Feedback is highly appreciated!

[cindersandroses]

Digital Get Down, Chapter 5

AUTHORS: cindersandroses ( losille2000 and cinderella1181)

CHAPTERS: 5/?

PAIRING: Actor!Henry Cavill/ Plus-Size OFC

GENRE: Romance/Fluff/HUMOR

FIC SUMMARY: When SuperHank met OrcPrincessPeach on the World of Warcraft message boards, it was love at first raid. Now, almost a year later, they’re ready to take the next step and meet in person. Half a world away from each other, both decide to meet in Atlanta for DragonCon, since she was already going to be there for her work as a game designer at Blizzard… never mind that she is a devout nerd. They both have to face the fact that reality is very different from a digital world.

RATING: Mature

WARNING: Mentions of assault.

AUTHORS NOTES: Love you all!

Also on AO3!

Chapter 5

Opal turned to the side as she looked at herself in the full length mirror on the back of the closet door. She smoothed the front of her dress over her rounded belly and picked at the slight ruching that was meant to help hide her imperfections along with the black color of the dress, but it did neither. There’d be no hiding anything. This was about as bodycon as one could get, and indeed she bought it a long time ago because she thought she looked hot in the form fitting silk. As soon as she got it home, though, and really looked at herself wearing it in the harsh light of day, she put it away, in the back of her closet with the other beautiful clothes she’d bought but never found the courage to wear.  

That was changing. Now. Today. Okay, not today. But as soon as she walked back into her house. She planned to go straight to her closet and pull them all out and wear each of them as soon as she had the right opportunity or occasion. Considering that most of them were on the fancier side of things, meant for dates, she figured she’d have more chances to wear them now, anyway.

Even though she and Henry would literally be halfway across the globe from each other after this weekend. She couldn’t dwell on that fact, though. If she did, then the sadness set in. She refused to let that particular emotion claw its way back. They’d make it work if it was going to work. It wasn’t like she couldn’t just take her computer places and work there.

If she could convince her boss to allow frequent trips.

And it wasn’t like he didn’t also spend part of his time in Los Angeles. 

Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.

Henry walked by behind her, drawing her attention away from those troubling thoughts. He fumbled with the cufflink on his left shirt cuff. She was going to make a quip about it, but the words died on her lips when she noticed he looked at her like a fat kid looked at cake. He licked his lips, smiled, and walked into the bathroom.

She couldn’t help but blush. She never would’ve believed he was truly stealing glances at her, but that notion had been squashed earlier at the spa. In fact, now she was hyper aware of his long, molten stares. 

And it was all because of the wonderful esthetician who completed her facial after their massage. What had started out as a traumatic experience ended up making her feel the most confident she’d ever felt in her own skin, thanks in part to Jessa the esthetician’s enlightening conversation. 

“He’s looking at you like you are the purest water and he’s just had some hot sauce.” 

Opal giggled, and blushed, looking at the woman.  “I just keep thinking he’s going to be like, ‘Ugh, not my type’ and leave, Jessa.” 

“Girl, please. You got one of those peach bottoms that men love to get a handful of. You already got him eating out of your hand, he’s not stopped glancing over here this whole time,” Jessa said, putting her hand on her hip. “And if he does do that, I got a handful of fine brothers who would eat that peach bottom up. So you just let Jessa know and I’ll hook you up.”

The comment made Opal laugh loudly, disturbing the serenity of the spa and resulted in a few perturbed glares from other clients. Henry had glanced up, one eyebrow raised in interest. She smiled at him sweetly and he went back to his shave. Opal smiled. “Thank you, Jessa. I’ll keep you updated.”  

Opal had made sure to slip Jessa an extra tip, even though she was sure Henry had tipped everyone well. Stingy wasn’t really a word she would use to describe this man, not materially or emotionally. 

Or physically.

Definitely not physically. He liked touching. Being affectionate.

She did not; or, more aptly, she was not used to it in the romantic sense. But she wasn’t even that affectionate with her family. There were a few hugs here and there as a child, but they weren’t overly huggy. And then there was the other thing he didn’t know about, because she never talked about it, that prevented her from initially enjoying his touches.

It was getting easier, though, the more he touched her. She found, with some relief, that she actually quite liked being close to him in that way. Perhaps there was hope for her, after all.

Opal moved away from the mirror and followed his trail to the bathroom. She rested a hip on the door jamb and watched him finish his grooming. He saw her in the mirror and smiled. 

“Like what you see?” he asked, that insidious brow raised.

“Nah,” she said with a grin. “I was just thinking about how you use twice the product I do.”

Henry rubbed his hands on a hand towel to remove the remnants of whatever moisturizer he’d used on his freshly shaved jaw. “That’s because it takes a lot to make me look this good. You’re already bloody gorgeous, so you don’t need it.”

Her cheeks heated and she shifted her weight awkwardly on her bare feet. Why were compliments so difficult to take? 

“And as an answer to your question, I do like what I see,” she replied. “I appreciate your efforts. But I also love getting to just observe each other. That’s what we were missing over the last year.”

Henry stopped and smiled at her. “I watched you getting ready, and that’s why I’m so behind. I couldn’t stop watching you. You are enchanting,” he whispered. 

The air caught in her lungs upon hearing the deep gravelliness of his sentiment. He closed the distance between them. The hunger, the lust, the pain, the joy, the need, all passed across his face. He leaned down and brushed his lips across her temple.  “We’re going to make a hell of a couple tonight, Princess.”

“Yes, we are,” she replied breathlessly. 

“Let me finish getting ready. You are distracting.” 

Opal giggled. “Pot, kettle.” 

She moved away from the door and went back to the bed to struggle into the sky high heels she had thought would be great to wear, but now she regretted the decision to pack them. Her feet were going to ache by the end of the night. But--the minx inside her reminded--that could possibly lead to another massage. This time, just with Henry. 

As she finished up the last buckle on the strappy things and stretched her legs out to check how they looked, she noticed Henry watching from across the room with a glazed look in his eyes. She laughed at him, because it was the exact same look she’d had as he secured the waistcoat around his trim torso.  “This… me putting on shoes shut you down?”

Henry reanimated with a shrug. “I have a thing for really high strappy, almost slutty, heels. Nothing like…” He stopped and blushed slightly. “Uh, never mind.”

Opal stood up and went over to him, just barely shorter than him now, and grinned. “I will have to remember that for later,” she replied. 

“Oh, god, please do. Bonus points for silk stockings and the whole belt contraption,” he murmured.

She giggled. “You know, men and women are so different. You want the littlest piece of clothing on me, but I’d rather see you in a three piece suit.”

“I can fuck in a three piece suit just as well as I can without,” he teased.

His comment, and the harsh word, caught her off guard. Taking the opportunity, he went over to grab his cell phone. He beckoned her with a crooked finger. “Come here.” 

She didn’t ask for clarification or even think about it; her feet in their dangerous footwear moved of their volition. When she reached him, he wrapped his arm around her and kissed her head, all while snapping a quick picture. He looked at it, smiled, and turned it around for her to view.

Her cheeks were high with color. Her skin glowed; her eyes sparkled. Her smile showed almost every one of her teeth. Everything about it made her seem so vital, so alive, so… beautiful. She had never seen herself so happy. Simply being near him made her want to beam from ear to ear. 

He smiled softly. “Now you see what I see when I look at you.”

“I don’t always look like this,” she protested.

“You do,” he replied. “Let me send this to you so you can send it to Amber.”

Opal shifted uncomfortably. She’d completely forgotten about sending Amber a picture. What kind of friend was she, anyway? 

“We can’t bring our phones tonight,” he explained. “Something about making sure nothing unflattering gets out.” 

Opal looked up at him and nodded. “Okay. Let me just send Amber a text telling her I’m going out for the night.” 

She saved the picture to her phone and opened up the text stream with her friend. She took the picture, sent it, and wrote, “I don’t think I ever expected my Hank to be this real. Going out for the night. Talk to you in the morning.”

She plugged her phone in, stood up, and took Henry’s hand. “Okay. Let’s go.” 

 ~~~

Opal stood in the atrium of the Georgia Aquarium and sighed. She was enchanted. She’d been here a ton of times before at previous cons, but never on a night specifically designed to be an intimate cocktail party with all of the con’s celebrity guests.  

What actually was her life right now? 

Henry talked to Dany and Dwayne, and she couldn’t get over the fact that she was standing next to The Rock. How many times had she sat next to her brothers while they watched this giant man wrestle? If someone had told her this was going to be her life when she left Los Angeles the night before, she’d have told them they were lying. It was all a little surreal.

Dany smiled at her, obviously picking up on the fact that she had zoned out and had literal stars in her eyes.  “So, Opal, what do you do?” 

Opal hummed and blinked at her. “Yeah, sorry. I’m a designer and programmer for Blizzard. I have been there, oh gosh, almost ten years now. Best job I have ever had.”

“And you live with?” Dany inquired. 

Opal understood Dany’s reticence to accept her into the group. Dany didn’t want anything to harm the business, and even though she seemed tough, she clearly cared deeply for both men as friends. Still, though, Opal didn’t think she gave off a crazy fan vibe.

“My best friend, from like middle school,” Opal said, moving to stand closer to Dany. She leaned in to speak quietly.  “I know you’re worried about me using him, I get that, trust me. If I was in your position I would, too. But honestly, Dany, I didn’t even know he was him… until this morning when I arrived. I just thought he was a dorky British guy named Hank. That was it. In the months leading up to this I just got to know his heart and who he is, not Henry Cavill, God’s gift to women. I knew SuperHank, the cleric who runs around healing people, because he is that guy. I got to know the Hank who was shy and loved to cook and gets excited about Warhammer and new fantasy novels. Who tells me constantly that I am worthy and beautiful.” 

Dany beamed at her. “That’s just what I wanted to hear.” 

“And frankly, you scare me a little bit, so I won’t do anything untoward,” Opal said.

Dany laughed and flexed a bicep. “Don’t you forget it.”

“I won’t.”

“But seriously, Opal,” she said and grabbed Opal’s hand. “He needs someone he can love with his whole being, and I’ve never seen him happier than when he has spoken to me about you.” She squeezed her hand. “It’s not going to be easy, but I promise to make sure you’re okay and safe, and that you can be with him.”

Opal grinned. “He is pretty special.” She looked beside her, expecting to find him there.  “And... gone, apparently.”

Lauren smiled at her.  “He and Dwayne went to get some drinks.” 

Opal felt her stomach clench. She tried to smile, but before she could muster one, Henry was back by her side. He handed her a flute of champagne. “Here, Princess.” 

Opal took the glass from him and didn’t say a word. Her jaw clenched and it took everything in her to stop her hand from shaking. 

Henry frowned. “Is that okay? Do you want something else?”

“Huh? Oh, no, it’s fine,” she replied and tried to smile again. Even though she couldn’t see it, she knew it came off as more of a grimace because of the expression Henry returned. He knew something was wrong, but the words to explain it to him failed to form on her tongue.

Not that she really had the chance to say anything, anyway. A loud, booming voice rang out across the atrium, “LITTLE BRUDDA!!!”

Opal spun around and watched in abject horror as two grown men raced towards each other and chest bumped each other like drunken frat boys.

Dwayne shook his head.  “Seriously, you two? We’re in public.” 

Henry came back and smiled.  “Jason, my man, this… is Opal.” 

Jason looked at her, his eyebrow raised.  “Well, hello there, beautiful. I’m Jason…” He took her free hand and kissed the back of it. “If he gives you any trouble, let me know.”

Opal blushed. “Thank you. I will.”

Dazzled once more by the Man Also Known As Khal Drogo, Henry startled her with a hand on the small of her back. She looked up at him, still holding the flute from which she had not yet had a drop of champagne.

Henry leaned down into her ear. “Do you want me to get something else for you?”

She shook her head.  “No, I just, uh… I’m going to get my own drink.” 

She excused herself and headed over to the bar, trying to convince herself that she wasn’t running away from him and running away from the conversation she should have already had with him, even before they both decided to meet here in Atlanta. 

She wasn’t in line long when she felt his presence behind her. 

“Are you okay?” he asked again, concern written all over his face.

“I am, honestly. I just… well… it’s stupid. I don’t drink anything that I don’t see poured myself, and I very rarely drink alcohol in public. I should have told you. It’s just my hang up and, gah... I’m sorry I freaked out a little bit.”

Henry’s eyebrows knit together. He nodded, but he clearly wanted more. 

“Let me get my drink and we’ll take a walk and talk, okay?” she asked, hoping to smooth things over.

He nodded and stood quietly with her. Even though he was clearly confused and maybe a little angry, his presence was still one that calmed her and she found herself resting against his sturdy bulk as they waited. Opal ordered her cranberry juice in a martini glass. To anyone other than herself and Henry, it looked like a Cosmo. It was her fallback when she wanted to hang out with the cool kids but didn’t want to do what the cool kids were doing. Because that one time she did what the cool kids were doing? She lived to regret it.

She took his hand and started to walk through the first exhibit. Opal paused at a tube enclosure in the middle of the room full of jellies. A black light shone down into the water, illuminating the sea creatures as they performed a graceful, haunting dance around their tank. She stood quietly, Henry standing next to her, silent, thinking. 

Finally, she cleared her throat from the heavy emotion making it difficult to breathe. “I was drugged.”

Henry’s fingers curled into her back. Though he tried to mask the sharp intake of air, his gasp was still audible. “Opal, why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because,” she said, just barely above a whisper. “It wasn’t just that. Amber and I were freshmen in college and I wanted to fit in. We went to a frat party. A guy we had art history with invited us.”

His anger was palpable; it wasn’t anger directed at her, though. Somehow, she knew that, as she stared at the gelatinous orbs bobbing through the water. She took a sip of the cranberry juice before moving on.

“I woke up the next morning, head fuzzy, in a room I had never seen before, and my panties around my ankles.” She braved a look up at Henry, to gauge his reaction. The sharp line of his jaw was set, his rage evident.

For some reason, it was cathartic to share this secret with another human. Amber knew, of course. Amber had nursed her back from the brink after they got home from the hospital.

“It’s the reason I pull away sometimes when you touch me, and the reason I am so unsure of myself. I’m sorry I never told you before, but you have a right to know.”

Henry didn’t speak; he looked at a point beyond her, staring in stony silence for the longest time. He finally tore his focus away from that point and gazed down at her. His face spoke volumes, even before his words did. He rested his chin on her head and wrapped her in his arms. “You know I would never, ever do that.”

“Oh, no, I do! I just… I want so badly for you to touch me, to be yours, I just need… time,” she said. “I don’t even know if I’m actually a virgin or not. I don’t know what they did to me. The next morning, Amber took me to the ER and a rape kit was done, but it was inconclusive. I’m sorry if this changes the way you feel about being with me.”

Henry pulled away from her and put his drink on the floor. He took her face gently in his hands. “I never, ever would feel any different about you. I just… I understand now.” He kissed her forehead, but didn’t move his lips from the spot they’d touched. His next words were muffled, but the meaning behind them was everything. “My promise to you is that I will not hurt you, and it’s all going to be at your pace.”

She smiled and pushed his hands away from her face. With her free hand, she reached up and let her hand rest on the nape of his neck. “Well, then, we can do this, cause I’m very ready for it.” 

With little strength, she pulled him down to her and kissed him. It wasn’t passionate or chaste; it was somewhere in the middle. A reassurance. A promise. Her promise to be as open with him as possible. His cue that she was okay with him pushing her boundaries. And she loved him for it.

[parkersanders]

Just Other Years - Chapter Twenty-One

[Silence and Duality Chapter One]

First | Previous | Next

Warnings: Mentions of blood

Word Count: 1,951

A/N: The sign of a true fanfic writer are year-long gaps in updates, right? Anyway, because of the sheer time that this fic has been updating, I've made a lot of changes to the originally planned timeline. The fic is going to end in the next few chapters instead of the original longer timeline that was planned. I think it's better this way though. So prepare for the climax that is approaching lol!

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Things have been...okay. They've been okay in a way that parker isn't used to. He kept waiting for the other shoe to drop. It had to, one way or another, right? But he was doing his best to stay positive. It was hard to do that considering his role, but...

"Earth to Parker," Roman sang.

Parker blinked a few times and looked over his shoulder at Roman. He looked forward again and moved the dish he was washing into the other sink to be rinsed off. "Uh. Did you need something?"

"You were standing there idly for five minutes," Roman said. He leaned against the counter, watching Parker. Parker's skin prickled and his ears burned with embarrassment at being scrutinized. "I was worried something was wrong."

"Oh. No. No, everything's fine," Parker promised. "Just lost in thought."

Roman laughed. His warm laugh put Parker more at ease. "That's supposed to be my job."

Parker chuckled back, though sounds a bit more uneasy. "I guess I'm taking over." Roman didn't laugh at that, and when Parker glanced at him, he had a more contemplative look on his face. "Um...I'm--I'm joking."

"I know!" Roman looked up and nodded. "Of course I know." He moved to Parker's other side and picked up a towel, starting to dry off the dishes that had been rinsed. "Virgil mentioned that you two talked."

Parker nodded. "We did. It was--It was really nice. I think we came to a nice conclusion. It...felt less hostile." He smiled a bit. "It was just nice."

Roman smiled. "I'm glad. It's nice seeing you two get along for once."

"It's nice to get along." 

They worked in silence for a while. It was right when Parker was feeling comfortable in the silence together that Roman spoke again, asking, "Has Thomas seemed weird to you lately?"

"How so?" Parker scrubs at some food stuck to a knife before he holds it out to Roman to clean.

"He's seemed sad."

Parker flinched and dropped the knife. Roman hissed and his hand yanked back. Parker clapped a hand over his mouth in silent shock as Roman fumbled for a fresh rag to press against the cut. "Are--Are you okay?"

"Yeah. Yeah," Roman said weakly. "A little cut is nothing to me." He winced and sucked in a breath. "Gotta be more careful."

"Um. Yeah." Parker chewed his lip tightly. "I--I can finish the dishes. You should go, um...take care of that...?"

Roman nodded, seeming a bit eager to be in agreement. "Um. I can--talk to you another time?" He smiled weakly and took a shaky breath. He then added, "I'm okay."

Parker didn't believe that at all, but he nodded anyway. Roman left and Parker looked down at the knife left in the sink. There were a couple drops of blood on the knife that blended with the water droplets. He sighed and hung his head as he leaned against the counter.

Thomas had been having a hard time with several things lately. He wasn't getting callbacks for the things he auditioned for. He was having a couple issues with friends. It was getting to Thomas, and so of course it was getting to the rest of the sides. parker felt anxious all the time and he felt like crying for even more times than that. But he knew that the others didn't want Thomas to be upset. If they knew that Parker was directly causing it, then--well--

No. No no. Things were different. They weren't angry at him and they would never put him back there. Parker took a few shaky breaths, trying to calm himself down so he wouldn't act irrationally. When he felt steady enough, he continued cleaning the dishes, making extra sure that he set the dishes down carefully and didn't handle them clumsily.

When Parker was finished, he left to try and find Roman. On his way to Roman's room, he heard soft humming coming from Logan's room. The door was open a bit, so Parker peeked inside. Logan was seated at his desk, hunched over a book and writing things down while he occasionally looked at one of his word flash cards.

Parker hesitated before he knocked on the door. Logan looked over at him. "Ah, Parker. Come in."

Another beat of pause passed before Parker stepped over the threshold into Logan's room. He walked over to the desk. "What are you working on?"

Logan smiled proudly. "I'm glad you asked." He held his hands out to the journal he was writing in. "This is my thoughts journal. I keep all of my research in here, as well as an in-depth record of my word system and fun facts that I can use to try and really drill down into Thomas's brain so he can learn useful information that can be applied to everyday life."

"That's cool," Parker said softly. He tilted his head, getting a better look at the cover of the journal. There were a few stickers pasted haphazardly on the cover. Parker smiled. "...is that the same journal that you had when Thomas was a kid?"

Logan hummed and closed the book so he could admire the cover. "It is," he admits. "I've been using it since we were children. I can just keep adding pages. It feels..." Logan grasped the air like he was trying to physically pluck the word that he was thinking of out of the air. "...nice?" He shook his head, looking unsatisfied with the word. "But I cherish the book. It is one of my oldest possessions."

Parker smiled and leaned over the desk to look at the stickers a bit closely. "I think I remember us putting the stickers on this."

Logan laughed and nodded. He took a sip of water from the glass he kept on his desk and set it down. "I believe it was Roman's idea to put the stickers on it. I was so upset that day." His fingers traced over the stickers with admiration. "But I think that it was a good decision. I wouldn't change that they were here." His eyes squinted and he pursed his lips. "Which sticker was yours?"

"The bird," Parker chuckled. He pointed to the bird half-covered by another sticker. "I was upset when Patton put his cookie sticker over mine, but then Roman told me that my bird was strong and would just fly out from under the cookie when it wanted to. Just--ZIP!" He flung his hand to one side like Roman always did when he explained the bird's flight pattern to Parker.

Unfortunately, this time around, there was a glass of water on the desk. When Parker's hand smacked into it, it overturned, spilling water all over the desk.

"No!!" Logan shouted and Parker let out a gasp. Logan snatched up the notebook, but it was already soaked.

Parker lifted the cup up, but didn't know what to do for the water. He certainly didn't know what to do for the notebook that Logan clutched in trembling hands. Parker could only helplessly stare and hold the cup tight against his chest. "Um..How...I can help, I-"

"You always make such a mess," Logan hissed, looking at the notebook whose pages were already curling and warping with the water.

Parker took a couple steps back, not knowing how to respond to that.

"I heard yelling," Patton said breathlessly, appearing at the door. "Logan are you alright-?"

"Parker, get out," Logan said stiffly. Parker struggled to speak but Logan repeated, "Get out. I." He sucked in a deep breath. "I don't want to snap at you."

Parker looked to Patton helplessly. Patton looked equally lost and just shrugged a bit. "Give him his space for a while, kiddo," he said softly. 

His stomach twisted at that, but he did as was told and moved out of the room. He breathed uneasily as he walked down the hall, still gripping the glass tightly in his hand. He tried to take deep breaths. He needed to calm down. But everything felt like too much and blood pounded in his ears and he felt like he was going to find himself back behind those walls.

Virgil passed Parker in the hallway, but he stopped and looked back. "Hey. Parker." Parker stopped but didn't turn towards him. "Uh. You good?" Virgil walked back up to him. "You look like you're going to shatter that glass."

"Um." Parker's mouth was dry as cotton. He tried to lick his lips, but there was no moisture. "I, ah, upset Logan. It was an accident."

"Ah. I'm sure it's fine," Virgil said. "Logan gets it."

Parker shrugged weakly. "He seemed really--really upset." He looked down at the floor. "...I think he's also still. Still upset about. Y'know. Everything."

Virgil considered that before he shrugged and nodded. "Yeah. Probably. I don't know if any of them really like--move past anything, you know?"

Parker looked at Virgil, feeling an uneasiness stirring in his stomach. "...yeah?"

"Yeah. We hold grudges. It's who we are. It's who Thomas is." Virgil shrugged. "It'll be alright. Don't worry too much."

Virgil slipped on his headphones and continued on his way. Parker stared after him, feeling his heartrate pick up in speed again. 

He looked forward and continued to his room. It was hard to breathe and he felt like he was going to pass out. He leaned against the door and let himself sink down to the ground. He breathed heavily and shut his eyes tightly. Breathe carefully. Count. Calm down. Parker's body wouldn't listen to any of his commands. He could only think of the fury in Logan's voice. The way he destroyed this precious thing that Logan loved. How he hurt Roman, and the blood that dripped into the sink. The stupid nightmare scene he'd thrown at Roman as punishment. All of their punishments, and how foolish he was, and how much he hurt them. They could never forgive him for that. Why would they ever forgive him?

Parker opened his eyes slowly and stared up at the ceiling. The mural was almost completed, full of colors and pretty shapes. He hadn't shown the full thing to any of the sides yet. It didn't matter anymore. They would never appreciate it. It was a hollow gesture. Parker just pretending that they were all happy, and they were accommodating him. They were afraid of him. If he got upset then he would hurt them again. Of course that's what they believed. It's why Roman wouldn't speak ill of him when he got hurt, why Logan didn't want to snap at him, why Patton just gave him that pitiful smile and tried to send him on his way. Only Virgil was honest with him. They all held grudges. Virgil held a grudge too. Parker was never actually going to be forgiven by any of them.

He stood up and walked over to the mural. He stared up at it, feeling sick the more he looked at it. He couldn't lie in bed and smile up at those shapes anymore. He couldn't act like it was an accurate reflection of any of this.

He picked up a can of black paint. Parker gritted his teeth and threw it up at the ceiling. The paint soared out of the can and splattered against the ceiling, smearing against all of the colors and leaving it a dripping stain of black. That's all that Parker was. He was making Thomas sad, he was harming the other sides. He was a horrible black stain that was consuming everything around him the longer he was around. He had to fix that.

[moldisgoodforyou]

give a little: chapter eight (college! jj maybank x oc)

MASTERLIST

pairing: jj maybank x oc

synopsis: boneyard party. alcohol. the back of the twinkie. need I say more

warnings: NSFW SMUT, drinking, swearing, all characters are 21+

wordcount: 1.9k

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It had been a month and a half into JJ and Charlie’s ‘fake dating’ scheme, but anyone who didn’t know the secret would think they were actually dating. The two were touchy all the time, at parties, hanging out at the Chateau, especially when they were alone in her room, but Charlie always stopped him just before it got any further than their shirts coming off. (JJ would have been just fine with things continuing.) Even Grace eventually came around, seeing how protective and caring he was. He was a regular at the ice cream shop and often went as far as hanging out with Jamie sometimes, tossing the football with him or helping him learn how to surf. The two of them seemed like the ideal couple, but they both had the ‘fake boyfriend/girlfriend’ plan in the back of their head any time they considered anything more. 

The night before the wedding, JJ and Charlie were at a party at the Boneyard, acting handsy like always. They were both drunk after multiple rounds of tequila shots (JJ’s favorite, Charlie tolerated) and Fireball (Charlie’s favorite, and it became JJ’s after seeing how much Charlie loosened up with it). 

Charlie had been teasing JJ all night. After an entire song of Charlie grinding against his hips, JJ had had enough. He pulled Charlie away from the party, despite her protests, and toward the Twinkie. It was on its last leg, but all the Pogues pitched in for maintenance every few months because they couldn’t bear to part with it. Charlie reached up on her toes to kiss JJ. “I don’t wanna go home yet, Maybank, I’m having fun!” He rolled his eyes. When she was drunk, he tended to start backing off the alcohol to keep a closer eye on her. “We’re not going home, you just need to sober up a little. Get in.” Charlie frowned but crawled in the van. JJ sat next to her and pulled out a water bottle from beneath the seat, handing it to her. “Drink.” 

“So demanding.” She wrinkled her nose but obliged, taking a tiny sip. “There. Let’s go back, I wanna dance.” JJ laughed. “Absolutely not, finish the water. No more drinking, you’ll love me for it when you’re not hungover at the wedding tomorrow.” Charlie sighed but chugged the bottle, knowing he was right. Once she finished she moved to JJ’s lap, straddling him. She kissed him hard, but he pulled back. 

“Charlie.” He said in a warning tone. She grinned. “What, Maybank?” She began unbuttoning the rest of his shirt (she had already unbuttoned the top three with her teeth earlier on a dare). He slapped at her hand gently. “Walker, you’ve been teasing me all night, quit.” She leaned back, keeping her knees on either side of his hips, and looked at him as she bit her lip. He reached out and traced his thumb over her cheekbone. “You know what that does to me, Charlie, stop it.” She just laughed. “I’m not doing anything.” She started kissing along his jaw, sucking gently on his neck as she rolled her hips. 

He grabbed her hips to stop her, letting out a groan. “Charlie.” She ignored him and unbuttoned the rest of his shirt, tracing her fingers along the top of his jeans. She kissed him hard and rocked her hips against his, feeling him grow beneath her. JJ stayed still beneath her, trying to think of anything but the girl currently on his lap. He pulled away again and held her face with both hands, holding her away from him. “Charlotte Walker, if you roll your hips one more damn time, I swear I’m going to kill you.” She smirked and bit her lip, then rolled her hips ever. So. Slowly. 

JJ groaned. “Walker. Please.” 

Charlie laughed. “All you had to do was ask nicely, J.” She slid off of him and got down on her knees in front of him, then paused. “Are the windows tinted?” 

JJ’s jaw dropped. “Are - are you serious?” He stuttered out. 

Charlie just raised her eyebrows in response. 

“Yes, they’re tinted. Charlie, you don’t have to -” 

Charlie cut him off with a short kiss. “I know. I want to.” She trailed her finger down his chest, then hooked her fingers into the waistband of his shorts, pulling them down to his knees as he lifted his hips. She slipped her hand into his boxers, stroking him a few times. JJ dropped his head back at the action, groaning loudly. “God, Char.” 

“You gotta be quiet, J.” She murmured, then pulled his boxers down, letting his cock spring free. “Holy hell,” she mumbled to herself. He was already hard, thanks to her teasing. JJ laughed and reached down, gathering her hair back. “What was that, Walker?” 

“Shut up, JJ.” She rolled her eyes and leaned forward, licking a stripe up the underside of his cock. That shut him up fast enough. She swirled her tongue around the head, then took it into her mouth, taking it in little by little. She wrapped a hand in a fist around the base of his cock to make up for what her mouth couldn’t cover. JJ bucked his hips and she gagged slightly, slapping his abs with her free hand. “S-sorry.” He panted out. 

Charlie started bobbing her head up and down on him, her wrist making the same motion. JJ groaned as she looked up at him through her eyelashes. “Oh my god. Holy shit. You’re so good at that, pretty girl.” He kept complimenting, struggling to stay quiet. Charlie moaned around him and a string of curses fell from his lips. “I’m close, Charlie.” He mumbled. 

She took her mouth off of him and kept pumping him, her pace increasing. “Go ahead.” She placed her lips back on his cock, taking in as much as she could at once. JJ grabbed at her hair, throwing his head back. “Oh, fuck, Charlie!” She swallowed and pumped him slowly, milking him of the rest of his cum. Once he finished he slumped back against the seats, eyes closed. “Oh my god.” 

She smirked, wiping her lips off with the back of her hand and running her fingers through her hair. “Was that okay?” JJ was at a loss for words. “Was that - oh my god, was that okay? Holy fuck. I feel like I’ve been waiting for that orgasm for years.” She grinned and kissed him chastely on the lips. “Cool. See you back at the party.” She got out, leaving him with his cock out, and shut the door, walking back to the crowd alone. 

JJ watched her go with his jaw hanging open, then quickly scrambled to tuck his cock back into his boxers, tugging his shorts up quickly. He surveyed his appearance in the mirror and ran his hands through his hair to fix it, then took his time walking back to the party. He concentrated hard on the sand, trying not to think of his girlfriend - no, fake girlfriend’s lips on his cock all of ten minutes ago. 

Charlie was refilling her drink when he returned to the party and he caught her eye from a distance. He shook his head and mouthed “no” at her, trying to make sure she didn’t go overboard. She grinned, lifted her cup in a toast to him, and licked her lips slowly before drinking. 

JJ came closer and she wrapped her arms around his neck, giving him a quick kiss. “Hi,” she smiled. 

He looked incredulous. “Cool? You just did -” he gestured wildly in the direction of the van “- all that and all you have to say is cool?” 

Charlie shrugged, trying not to let a smile betray her lips. 

Pope walked over to refill his cup. “JJ, where’d you go? You missed Charlie doing a Vegas bomb. She crushed that.” He grinned, offering a high five to Charlie. Charlie paused and glanced at her hands before high-fiving him back with a smile, using the hand she didn’t just have wrapped around JJ’s cock. 

The tips of JJ’s ears turned red and he shifted in embarrassment, grabbing Charlie’s shoulders and putting her in front of him to block any view of his crotch. “Uh, just needed some fresh air, you know?” 

Pope eyed him curiously. “Right,” he replied, then walked away. 

Charlie leaned back into him, knowing exactly why she had to move. “I thought I already took care of that, JJ?” She smirked as he gripped her shoulders, pushing her away so she wasn’t touching him. “Let’s talk about the Vegas bomb. I told you no more drinking,” JJ admonished. She laughed and turned to face him, deliberately adjusting her bikini in front of him. “And you thought I would listen to you?” JJ’s eyes were trained on her chest before he glanced up with a pained expression. “Charlie, no more teasing, I’m going to combust.” She laughed. “You already did.”

JJ groaned and he screwed his eyes shut to think of something else. “Charlotte.” He warned. She wrinkled her nose. “Yeah, I let that slide back there, but that’s not going to be a regular thing, Maybank.” He laughed, relaxing a bit. “Okay. That’s fair.” She grinned and turned to walk away. “Come watch, me and Sarah are gonna do body shots.” JJ’s jaw dropped - for the second time that evening - and he took a second for the words to reach his brain before he grabbed her wrist and pulled her back. “I think the fuck not.” Charlie stumbled a bit, her drunkenness betraying her, and she giggled as she put her hand on JJ’s chest to steady herself. “Why not? They’re fun.” 

JJ raised his eyebrows. “I don’t want anyone’s lips on yours but mine.” 

Charlie blushed, then paused. “You’re not my boyfriend. You can’t tell me what to do.” 

JJ frowned, knowing not to pursue the conversation right now in the heat of the moment, not to mention that Charlie was hammered and probably wouldn’t remember the conversation. “We’re still stuck on that?” 

Charlie raised her eyebrows, not wanting to give in. “I’m not your girl. Remember the third rule, J.” 

“Fuck the third rule,” JJ challenged. Charlie frowned and pulled her wrist out of his grip. “I’m gonna get Grace to take me home. I’ll pick you up tomorrow for the wedding.” She hesitated, then kissed him on the cheek. “Night, J.” She walked off and JJ didn’t follow her. For once. 

_______________________________________________________________________

Charlie found Grace pretty quickly and the upset look on Charlie’s face was enough for Grace to ditch the boy she was flirting with to help her friend home. On the ride back, Charlie drunkenly told her best friend the conversation with JJ. “Oh, yeah, and I sucked him off in the van.” 

Grace practically screamed. “You did what?!” 

Charlie whined and covered her ears. “Grace, shh.” 

Grace shook her head. “This isn’t fair to him. You either need to make this shit official or break it off, you’re gonna break his heart.” 

Charlie whipped her head over, confused. “You don’t even like him!” 

Grace shrugged. “He’s grown on me. He treats you well, don’t hurt him, Charlie.” 

Charlie groaned. “This is so confusing.” 

Grace shook her head. “Well, think about how the poor boy feels.” 

Charlie threw up her hands. “Whose side are you on anyways?” 

Grace pulled into her driveway and frowned. “I’m on your side, always. But that’s exactly why I’m rooting for him.” 

TAGLIST: @booksandshish​ @jiaraendgame​ @hmsjiara​ @outerbanksbro​ @alexa-playafricabytoto​ @annedub​ @casper17​ @t8-er-tot @agirlwholovescoffee​

[criminalminds4days]

Family Matters | Chapter 8: First Time

Warnings: Swearing, sexual references, violence and murder references, public embarrassment, and very bad jokes!

Word Count: 2.8k

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Tag list: @mcntsee @lets-be-gay-for-the-angel @evelyncade @haylaansmi @paulaern @myfandomlife-blog​

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(This gif is not mine)

Chapter 8: First Time

It is time to reveal the first meeting between the shy doctor and his new, very clumsy girlfriend.

Why is this the time, you may ask?

Well, because,  what better way to intrigue the reader than by leaving the couple in newfound happiness without delivering the details of the said night. As well as provide a title that could reference the event and/or have it mean something completely different.

Not to worry, the awaited next morning shall be given in the next chapter.

Without any more delay, please enjoy the individual perspective of the first time they saw each other.

She took a deep breath as the elevator doors opened for the first time, leading her to what was bound to be her new workplace. She smiled politely at all the people she encountered in her short walk and as soon as she reached the glass doors she froze.

How had she made it this far? What if she wasn't good enough? What if the whole room hated her and she was just a horrible profiler and got fired on day two?

No, she was good enough otherwise she wouldn't be here. That was easier said than believed. She gathered the courage she needed and pushed the door, only to be greeted with it being stuck. She continued putting force, hoping it would decide to open before someone noticed her struggling, but it was too late for that.

"It's a pull, not a push." A deep voice said, behind her. She turned to see a dark-skinned tall man with no hair and very full eyebrows. He was wearing a black T-shirt that made his obvious muscles stand out. He wore black pants and dress shoes and a gun was holstered to his side. He was cute! Not that she had the time for dating, she didn't want a repeat of last year.

Instead of commenting on his appearance or flirting, she decided to pull the door, and would you know? It was suddenly unstuck. "I knew it wasn't stuck, I was just making sure it was strong enough."

The man chuckled, followed by a "sure," that wasn't even trying to sound convincing.

She made her way inside the bullpen, looking for her new boss, Aaron Hotchner's office. As she approached said room, a group of desks with only one person sitting caught her eye. She debated whether to approach but she could feel the man from earlier staring at her and decided not to. As soon as she met with agent Hotch, as he asked her to refer to him as, they were called for a case and she was in the meeting room for the first time, sitting as far away from everyone as possible.

"Everyone, before we start I want to introduce you to our new Agent," Hotch said, as he referred to the woman. She stood and waved. "This is our team, Derek Morgan," he said pointing at the man from earlier, he winked at her knowingly and she simply smiled, already wishing to leave. "This is Jennifer Jareau, Emily Prentiss, David Rossi-"

"DAVID ROSSI?!" Her voice echoed through the room and she instantly felt embarrassment settle in. "I am so sorry, I'm such a fan. You must get that a lot, sorry."

She looked at the members she had been introduced to, Jennifer Jareau was wearing a striped dress shirt and dress pants, her blonde hair was left down and her blue eyes looked amused. Emily Prentiss wore her black hair in a low ponytail, a pink shirt, and black pants, she also seemed to be having a good time at her expense.

The man whose books she had in paperback, hardcover and audible, simply chuckled as if his only feeling was amusement. His hair was short and he had a lock beard look going on, a black suit with a matching red tie a clearly expensive watch on his wrist, he basically smelled like money.

"As I was saying," continued Hotch, adjusting the blue tie of his seemingly very expensive suit, a white dress shirt underneath. "This is Penelope Garcia, our Tech analyst, and Dr. Spencer Reid." She looked at the last two members and for the first time, she saw people like her. Although all the members introduced prior seemed like good people, they also seemed so professional, like they knew what they were doing and when to get their hands dirty. The remaining two, seemed younger, like how they presented themselves to the world was the same whether they were on the job as it was in their spare time.

Penelope had a beautiful rainbow dress, her blonde hair with a lot of volume and pins stuck all over, although she didn't like cats, she adored the woman's cat-themed glasses, and deep down she was a sucker for glitter. Spencer, the other doctor in the room, was wearing a white shirt underneath the comfiest looking red sweater she had ever seen. It was weird seeing someone wearing a sweater in the middle of the summer, but hey, who was she to judge? His hair was lazily pushed back and his curls were so pretty! How do you get curls that pretty?! Not to mention he was good looking, a defined jawline, and those brown eyes could melt her any time he wanted.

There she was, thinking things she shouldn't of yet another coworker. "It is a pleasure to meet you all." She took her seat again and Penelope began presenting the case.

As they were brainstorming, she had finally felt confident enough to suggest something, only to find herself interrupted by Spencer Reid. "Nu-uh bruh, I know you didn't just interrupt me mid-sentence." She spoke, clearly not having it. "I did not work my butt off to make it to the FBI just so that a man who wears sweaters in the middle of July cuts me off on my first day!" All eyes turned to her, perplexed. "I don't know how they do it here in the East Coast but back in the west we let a person finish their sentence." Laughs emerged in the room, and Spencer's eyebrows furrowed, slightly annoyed and very confused.

"I beg your pardon?" The man questioned.

"As you should. My pardon is granted." She turned back and finished her thoughts.

At that moment, unknowingly, she had just put into motion the seed for what would become her and Spencer Reid's relationship. And all the events that followed, her almost-death at the hands of a cult leader, her cool head when proving Morgan's innocence, and the countless times she made sure every single member of her team remained safe while providing them with immense ammunition to laugh when feeling down left an impression. Neither knew it but they were on each other's mind more than they realized. But that's not what you want to hear right now, is it?

After getting on the jet, the seat next to who she believed to be Emily Prentiss was the only one available. She took the seat and the woman gave her a kind smile.

"It wasn't that bad." She assured her.

"I may have just made a really bad first impression."

"You didn't, if anything we like you more than before." She followed this by a wink as the team reviewed the case and they took off.

"So, detective Owen is leading this investigation, you guys remember him, correct?" JJ spoke first.

"From the stalker case," Hotch noted.

"Yes." The blonde agreed, "Spence, you remember that case, right?"

"Yes Jennifer, I do." She took a chance by glancing up to find him very flustered at the mention.

"Do you ever talk to, what's her name again... Lila, right? Do you keep in contact with her?" She questioned, an amused smile forming on her face.

"I honestly think we should focus on this particular case." He answered, avoiding the question.

She turned to Emily who shrugged, just as confused as she was. Rossi seemed as lost as the two women, but Morgan and JJ seemed to be having a good time.

After landing and meeting with the local PD, they had begun their investigation, trying to understand this unsub. It had been about twenty-four hours since she had food and her growling stomach wasn't helping anyone.

"How about we go to get some food newbie?" Emily suggested, "I could use some right now."

"Sure."

As they made their way to the first food cart they saw, Emily cursed under her breath. "Fuck, I forgot my purse."

"It's okay, my treat. After all, thanks to you I'm getting food."

"I will pay you back."

"No need." With this said, the two ordered a hot dog and a soda. She should have known better than to do so, as soon after her first bite, the meal decided to find a second home in her shirt. "Oh, come on!"

"That's not good." Emily agreed, "let me run to the hotel, it's two blocks from here, and I'll get you a new shirt."

"You don't need to do that."

"I will be fast, don't worry."

Too late she realized that Emily's purse, which she assumed had her hotel key, was in the office. Nonetheless, the woman returned with a sweater to help her cover the stain. The irony wasn't lost on her, she judged Spencer's sweater-wearing and now she had to do the same.

This was definitely going to be a great day.

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

Spencer Reid was never one to be noisy, nor the first one to notice people. This often came out as rude and most people believed he thought he was better than them, which was not the case. The truth is that overcoming his addiction had left him drained, the parting of Elle Greenaway, the only woman he could safely admit he loved, and the departure of yet another father figure, Jason Gideon, had made him developed a closed-off personality that prevented him from ever creating attachments to new individuals. Emily Prentiss and David Rossi being the only exceptions.

This is important to know because as the most beautiful woman he had ever seen walked into the bullpen, he tried his hardest to avoid looking up. Granted, it was more for appearance sake than anything, because there was no way he hadn't noticed her. How could he not? She wore a white shirt that was loose enough to give her a sense of floating through the room. He had seen her struggle to open the door, and the interaction she had with Derek Morgan and knew if he made a move the Doctor would have no chance. Not that he wanted one, he didn't even know her name.

He saw her walk towards Aaron Hotchner's office and any possibility that might have crossed his mind had been completely shattered. She would be his teammate, and fraternization was not allowed within the same unit. Again, that was just stating the facts, because he wouldn't even consider entering a romantic relationship. It was true that he had kissed more girls in the last two years than he had done in the last twenty-six years of his life, but that didn't mean he was a player, or that he would try to get in the new agents' pants.

After discussing these same things with himself he was called into the bullpen and knew they would be introduced to the new girl. He fixed his sweater and rubbed his hands clearing the sweat that had accumulated.

"You okay, Spence?"

"Yeah, why?"

"You seem a little nervous."

"I haven't had enough coffee, is all."

"Well, how could you? Your drinks are basically liquid sugar."

"It's not that bad JJ." They both reached the room in which they held their round table and sat next to each other.

Slowly, the room filled with the rest of the team and lastly by their Unit Chief and the new member. She was introduced to all of them and he couldn't help but notice how her hands seemed so shaky and her cheeks were flushed. He took his view from her and attempted to concentrate on the case. When he finally found himself in the zone was when his biggest mistake occurred.

"If you look at the scar marks though it seems-" Before he could continue, the girl he had just interrupted had cut him off.

She made sure to set him straight and he looked up just in time to hear her mention his summer-sweater wearing and feel completely embarrassed.

"I beg your pardon?" He said a little annoyed. Sure, it wasn't correct to interrupt her, but bringing his sweater tendencies was not polite. She took his words as an actual apology whether he intended it that way or not (which he didn't) and continued.

The memory would forever be engraved in his brain, he knew that were the little things that made having an eidetic memory, not such a great perk. So, as they sat in the jet he avoided all eye contact.

How could never look her in the eye without remembering their first real interaction, and he was sure she would not want to actually have a conversation with a guy that had come off as dismissive on her first day.

He would have overthought the whole situation if it hadn't been for JJ reminding him of his first 'fling' as the team often referred to it. Lila had been an actress they had protected from a stalker, and Reid couldn't help but fall for her charms. They hadn't talked in a while, mostly because he knew dating someone you barely knew was hard enough, but doing it when the two of you lived on the other side of the country was even worse.

He made sure to try and forget the mentioned girl and the incident with the new agent as he fixed his bed space. Sleeping in hotel rooms made him very uncomfortable, knowing all the germs that could possibly inhabit every single inch, but he loved his job, so with a few accommodations, he got through it.

"More sweaters pretty boy?" Morgan said, taking one out of his go-bag. "How did it go, ah yes: I did not work my butt off to make it to the FBI just so that a man who wears sweaters in the middle of July cuts me off on my first day!"

"Please stop, it's bad enough I will forever have that memory seared in my brain. She probably thinks I'm a douchebag."

"She probably does." His roommate teased. "But don't worry, she'll come around, now, let's go. We have work to do."

Morgan threw the sweater onto his bed and the two made their way to the local police station. They spent about five hours trying to come up with a preliminary profile, hoping this would give them the insight they needed to determine the importance of victimology, and possible help with a geographical profile by letting them know if there had been missing person's reports or bodies of people that fit that general victimology. After that time Emily and the new girl decided to go get food. He was hungry too but decided against going with them because he didn't think he would be well received.

After about half an hour, the pair returned and the girl was wearing a sweater that very clearly resembled the one Morgan had left on his bed earlier that day. He didn't think much of it until they returned to their hotel room and said clothing item was nowhere to be found.

"How on earth does a sweater just disappear? We had a do not disturb sign up, there is no way housekeeping would come in." Morgan said as they both looked for it.

At this point, Spencer knew why he wouldn't find his sweater, but decided to remain silent. How could he ask her politely to return it? And more importantly, why was she wearing it? How did she get a hold of it?

He never really got an answer to these questions, as they were not really friends, and he didn't feel comfortable asking about it. She had worn it a couple of times, including during their kidnapping, it seemed rather odd to bring it up then. "Hey, I know we might die, but I just have to know: How did you get my sweater?" was probably not going to cut it. So he let her keep it, and eventually, while the memory was still engraved in his brain, it became less relevant. That was, until the next morning of their shared night, when he saw said sweater very visibly hanging on her closet door and decided to try it on and see if it still fit.