#sure- both of them are wicked smart in other areas

[dirtytransmasc]

The 3 sibs are fucking menaces. Like General Ardmore was fucking down to let Quaritch and the recoms take responsibility because 'Jesus fuck get them out of here'

I imagine that due to them adopting Spider as their brother at a young age they ended up spending a lot of time with the humans that remained at Hell's Gate (might have even taken to living in the old Avatar area) and likely picked up on a lot.

Like they know tech better than any Na'vi, and it's mildly terrifying for humans when they realize that these 3 siblings know shit.

I also imagine that they might have become a bit disconnected with the Omaticaya, not anything super big, but their insistence that Spider is their brother probably hindered them getting adopted by a Omaticaya couple.

But the recoms probably are so confused when they learn that Norm fucking Spellman is the one who technically raised these feral gremlin children. Sure they are smart as shit but God damn these kids are jumping out of a moving helicopter into the fucking trees.

Don't get me started on Quaritch's and the recoms reactions to the story of when the little brother tried (and nearly succeeded) in mounting/claiming an adolescent Thanator.

AKA the giant deadly space cat who's na'vi name literally translates to dry mouth fear of death.

(Also the heart attack Quaritch gets when he sees them tossing Spider between them like a sack of potatoes. I do not doubt for a second these kids haven't developed a 'system' when it comes to traveling with Spider.)

I love how not even cut-throat Ardmore, she doesn't care what possible information she could get from them, she want them off of the premises asap.

so that leaves a group of morally complicated, adult-teenage-newborns, with 3 young adults that will make it their life goal to be the biggest thorn in the sides, but also to flip the recoms on their heads.

sometimes the questions aren't even asked to try and tie the recoms brains in knots, sometimes they genuinely want to know. other times they ask question that are meant to make the recoms question everything. they love the chaos, but also watching the recoms change, watching them become na'vi.

on top of it all they're wicked smart, they're always helping out, both technologically and in the field, they clearly know a shit ton about jake and his little possy, they were raised by spellman after all, but they're loyal, they don't say anything. but that's strangely fine with all the recoms (aka, they stopped caring about their mission and only do whats necessary to please ardmore, but shhh, they haven't realized that yet, if they do, they may implode).

and the amount of worry quaritch develops for these kids is unreal, and like, this guy's military, so every night he checks on them like 10 times a night, at first cause he didn't trust them, but it slowly turned into him just worrying about them. he normally takes nightly rounds so he's always going through the effort of climbing into whatever tree they've nested themselves in and just watching for a moment. those are his kids, in some way, he knows it.

so when they really start doing stupid shit, he feels his heart age 50 years. he worries everytime they fool around on the ikran, everytime they fuck with the wildlife, everytime they climb to high for his taste. he's just a big old bag of anxiety.

[dame-nervy]

Gladers are WCKD - Chapter 14

Vince used to say I had a smart mouth that would only cause trouble, Mary said I was clever enough to talk my way through anything, and when I met Jorge, well he told me I should work on my aim. Though I don't think any of them would expect my escape to have something to do with chewing.

It had been a long 24 hours - I'm guessing, I don't have a clock - of nothing since Jeff had threaten and fed me. Apparently, I wasn't interesting enough for anyone other than Clint and Jeff to come and check on, both saying a lot less than yesterday. Though, with all that time I was able to estimate that I was far away from most people, barely any foot traffic coming past my door. So, while being fed my one meal a day - though I'm not sure you can classify the grease trap grit I received as food - I had managed to spit some in my hand when the Medjacks weren't looking. After they'd left, I was able to use it to finally slip my hand free, though it was not without pain and the wonder of if it will lead to an infection later. Putting that out of my head I redressed myself, collected my weapons and waited by the door until I was pretty sure that no one was around. I opened the door only as far as I needed, quickly getting out and shutting it again before finding a dark hallway to hide in. The silence was deafening, but reassuring. I was alone.

It was only now that I discovered that I was in a building that was barely standing, lots of patch work and boarded up windows. Peeking through the boards I was momentarily blinded before seeing what was home base for the Gladers.

It was a large clearing of green land, men meandering around crop fields, sheds, pens with animals grazing, and buildings that were either new or very well taken care of. I couldn't believe my eyes at how they were living, I'd never even seen green grass before, not in real life. but then there was the 30 metre tall walls that reminding me of the wall around the last city and of what Sonya, Harriet, and Aris had said about where wicked had kept them. Must be Wicked's favourite architectural trait. And then I notice the gaps in the walls... my way out.

Even though I knew my odds would be better to wait for nightfall, there's no telling when someone would next come to check on me. Now might be my only chance. I found a boarded-up window on the side towards the back, peaking out of that one you could easily tell it was closer to the wall and not too visible to the main area, I could also see another hole in the wall, closer but easily exposed. I pulled the boards off, which was made easy by the fact that they were rotted out, thankfully since my busted hands ached after a few moments of pressure. I peaked out a little to see if I'd been noticed luckily finding no one around at all, the closest person being around 50 metres away.

The was no cover. there was no waiting around for a better opportunity. It was now or go and get comfortable in my seat. I climbed out the window, took a deep breath, steadied my nerves and ran.

.

.

.

.

.

"HEY!"

- - - - -

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[silver-heller]

Thinking about how all the L-ackadaisy characters are villains, and I kinda wonder how true that is in the AU. Cause I feel more sympathetic for Mordecai, Silver, Rocky, and Viktor after exploring the circumstances that lead them to that point, and what a strong hold Atlas had on them. But it still can very much be argued that they all had a point in this where they could have walked away or simply declined Atlas' offer, so it's hard to say. If they are villains, they are still extremely sympathetic ones, which are my favorites, in all honesty.

(Spoilers for after main fic stuff)

So, during the main story, I definitely think most of them could be classified as villains for what they do and their overall demeaner and personalities. After the main fic, they mostly continue their acts of violence to survive the Marigold. At that point, I'm not even sure if the L-ackadaisy is really operating as a Speakeasy but rather, a base of operations. Although Serafine and Nico being there could certainly change the tide, Rocky, Silver (especially Silver's), and Mordecai's reluctance to bring anyone new into the fray out of fear of repeating Atlas' history makes me think it's kind of doomed to fall under and a lot of the characters don't actively care at that point.

That being said, I still think they'd continue being a crew in a lot of ways and looking out for one another. It is very likely the L-ackadaisy could be repurposed in some way as well, even if it's just a common area to house most of them. It's a very cool location, after all, and as Silver says, it could be anything, so long as they stick together.

I do headcanon Silver, Viktor, and Mordecai would end up opening a kosher bakery, because both actively make comments and jokes about Mordecai having a civilian life that involves that lol. Calvin, who left home at that point, would work there, I bet. The four might even move closer to Mordecai's sister Rose, since it was the career that was keeping Mordecai physically distant from her in the first place. I feel like Irene and Rocky could start their own business as well, though I am unsure what exactly (Rocky really needs to get out of that place, tbh).

However, whether this would be attached to any illicit business is difficult to say. Probably not but they'd still have their connections. Ivy and Mitzi would have a much easier time fitting back in as well, and I feel like some of Mitzi's charming behaviors and business smarts would work much better in any other circumstance where the competition is a bit more...reasonable. Wick would also be much more willing to help her in that instance, and he seems like the type that would have ideas of how to turn the caverns into something else, there is a lot of potential there.

Serafine and Nico are a harder one, especially since Serafine seems quite keen on the idea that she and Nico were meant for this life. I am unsure where else they'd get their thrills, but I don't think they or the others would mind that the two are still in the business and they aren't. I don't think it's the case of the cast suddenly growing a moral backbone that made them get out of the business but, rather, recognizing how it and Atlas destroyed their lives and could destroy their lives in the near future if they don't seek out other opportunities. But Serafine and Nico never had that issue, if anything, it had a net benefit for them, so I don't think there'd be any tension there.

I do think a lot of them would still keep their villainous traits, they just might put in more effort not to be more than slight menaces to society lol.

[mooounicsss]

6 Smart Jumps That'll Make Your Next Park Visit A True Fun Experience

There’s nothing like a day spent in the great outdoors, is there? Whether you’re out hiking or spending time at the park, there’s just something about being surrounded by nature that feels refreshing. But even if you live in a city, there are still plenty of opportunities to enjoy nature without having to leave the comfort of your home. In this blog post, we’ll outline six smart jumps that will make your next park visit a true fun experience. From exploring new trails to meeting new friends, these jumps will have you jumping for joy in no time. So get ready to go wild – without leaving your house!

The ultimate guide to enjoying pools during the summer

Summertime is the perfect time to enjoy pools. Not only are they refreshing, but they're also a great way to spend some quality time with friends and family. If you're looking for ways to have a great time at the pool, then you need to read this guide. We'll show you some of the smartest jumps that will make your next park visit a true fun experience. First, it's important to know the rules of pool etiquette. Make sure to stay hydrated and save those drinks for when it really counts (like during games). And lastly, be respectful of others – don't start arguments or get too rowdy. Now let's get started! Here are six smart jumps that will make your summer pool experiences even better: 1) The Superman Jump: This jump is perfect if you're looking for an adrenaline rush. It's challenging enough to be thrilling but not so difficult that you'll end up injuring yourself. Plus, it looks wicked cool when you pull it off! 2) The Double Back Shuffle: This jump is perfect for beginners who want an easy challenge. It takes a little bit of coordination but is ultimately simple and tons of fun. Plus, everyone loves a good double back shuffle dance party! 3) The Frog Hop: This jump is perfect for kids who love jumping around – and frogs look super cute doing it! You'll need some basic skills (like hops, flaps and Turns

5 tips for making the most of your dog park visit

1. Bring a pal or two! Bringing other dogs to the park helps keep everyone entertained and active. 2. Play loose! Don't be afraid to let your dog run and play without boundaries - they'll have a blast and you'll get some exercise, too. 3. Keep an eye on those treats! Many dogs love a good bribe so make sure you bring some goodies for them to enjoy. 4. Be respectful of other park-goers! Letting your dog run free can be tempting, but please remember that other people are there to enjoy themselves, too. No need to be rude - just follow these tips for a positive experience at the park!

How to keep your kids entertained while you

When you have little ones at home, it can be hard to find ways to keep them entertained. But that doesn't have to be the case! With a little planning and some smart jumps, you can have a fun park visit with your kids that leaves them laughing and wanting more. Before you go, make sure to gather everything you need for the jump: A map of the park, a blanket or lawn chair, snacks, drinks, sunscreen and bug spray. Once you're there, start by picking an area that's close to the entrance but out of the way. Choose a spot where there are few trees or other obstacles in your way. Next, set up your blanket or lawn chair. Make sure it's comfortable for both you and your child so they'll want to stay seated as long as possible! Next, give your child some snacks and drinks. If they're old enough, let them help put these things together. They'll love having some control over their own environment and will enjoy preparing their lunch hour snack! Now it's time for the fun part: The Smart Jumps! There are plenty of different ways to get involved with your park visit, depending on what interests your child. Some ideas include jumping on giant inflatables like the Jumping Pillow or playing games like Tic-Tac-Toe on a large mat. If your child is more into running around than bouncing around, try out one of our interactive playgrounds

[jimblejamblewritings]

heart has his heart | part 2.

Summary: (Y/N) Heart is chosen alongside her friends to attend Auradon Prep. Of course her friend Mal’s mom, Maleficent, has a much more sinister plan than the kids just attending Auradon. Will they be able to pull of stealing the wand or will (Y/N) find herself liking Auradon a bit too much?

Pairing: Ben x reader

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: none

Previous Part | (Series Masterlist)

“So you guys have a lot of magic here?” Mal asked as you guys entered the dorm areas of the school.

“I mean it exists, but it’s pretty much retired. Most of us here are ordinary mortals,” Ben answered.

“Yeah, ordinary mortals that happen to be kings and queens.”

“That’s true.” Audrey put Ben’s arm around her shoulders. “Our royal bloodlines go back hundreds of years.”

“Wow, really?” you asked.

Both Ben and Audrey nodded, clearly not hearing the sarcasm. The VKs smiled knowing you weren’t genuine at all.

“Hundreds, huh? Call me back when you hit the thousands.” You would’ve stopped there but the look on Audrey’s face was too good to drop it.  

“Carlos? How old is Wonderland now?”

“It’s entering its third millennium in a few years so currently 2,992.”

You could always count on Carlos to be a smart-ass and have the exact answer you needed.

“And the Valley of Hearts was founded when in Wonderland?”

“Approximately two thousand nine hundred years ago. Give or take twenty years depending on if you count its Warring States period.”

“And the Royal Family? The Hearts…”

“Never been usurped once. Only family to maintain rule within a single family.”

“Wow. So two thousand years runs through my veins. I mean, hundreds is cute though… so the dorms would be?”

“That way.” One of the marching band boys said from where he was coming down the stairs.

“I’m Doug, Dopey’s son. I’m taking the tour over from Ben and Audrey.”

“Oh, be careful Doug. It’s Prince and Princess Ben and Audrey. We wouldn’t want to offend their royal blood.”

Ben gave a sarcastic laugh, “okay, okay we get it.”

“A bit much?”

“Just a bit. We’ll see you guys around.” Ben and Audrey walked off.

Doug was very nice as he led you guys through the dorm area explaining the common areas, snack bar and kitchens, the public bathrooms in case you can’t stop all the way to your room. Finally, you arrived at your dorms.

“Everyone chooses singles or doubles. We thought it would be best if you guys had people in your rooms, so you didn’t get too lonely in Auradon. We’ll be happy to give you singles next semester or next year. Jay and Carlos are together. Evie and Mal are roommates.” Doug handed them the keys.

“Unfortunately, there are three girls and we only do doubles so we couldn’t get you all to room together. But one of the Auradon girls did offer to room with you, (Y/N).”

Doug pointed to the door right across from Mal and Evie’s room. He handed you the key before continuing on. He gave out schedules. You guys had the weekend to relax before starting classes on Monday, including Goodness 101 with Fairy Godmother.

You gave a small wave to the other VKs before entering your room to figure out your mystery roommate. The dorms at Auradon were actually perfect, at least according to you. Mal was probably internally screaming across the way with all the cleanliness. It was so light and airy, so pretty.

“I know. I had the same reaction the first time I saw the dorms. Huge aren’t they?”

“Yeah, huge,” you said absentmindedly.

The girl jumped off her bed, setting down the sharpie she was drawing on her skin with. “Nice to meet you. Moetini, Maui’s daughter.”

“Maui? The demi-god? I’m roommates with a demi-god?”

“Eh, quarter-god.”

“Still pretty cool. (Y/N) Heart.” You shook her hand. “Love the drawings.”

“Yeah? I’m testing out tattoos. Not sure what to do first.”

“I like that one.”

You pointed to intricate sun design on the back of her hand. Like father, like daughter. No surprise to you that Moetini would want tattoos like her dad.

“Really? Wicked. Guess it’ll be my first one.”

“Will it move?”

“If I get my dad to do it, probably… do you have any stuff with you?” Moetini looked behind you but saw nothing.

“Uh, they said it would be in the room, but… it looks like my luggage got lost.”

Moetini frowned. “Looks like we’ll have to go get Ben.”

She grabbed your hand and marched out the door. At first when Doug said that an Auradon girl volunteered to share a room with you, you didn’t think it would end well. But Moetini was pretty chill and you were actually kind of happy she volunteered. You followed all the way to what you assumed was Ben’s door. Moetini knocked in such an odd fashion, making a song out of it until Ben opened the door.

“Moetini, what do you want?” You could hear Ben on the other side of the door before he even opened it.

“How’d you know it was me?”

“Who else would knock like that. (Y/N)?”

Ben noticed you behind Moetini. “Don’t tell me there’s a problem already. You volunteered, Moetini.”

“Oh, no. We get along great, don’t we? (Y/N)’s luggage is missing.”

Ben scratched the back of his head. “Oh. Well, there was nothing important in there, right?”

“No. Lucky for me I put my crown on. Just clothes and snacks,” you said.

You were glad you kept the picture of you and your parents in your pocket. It was a bad picture, from a broken camera, but you loved it nonetheless.

“Okay. Then in that case…” Ben went into his room before popping back up with his wallet. “I don’t think we’re going to find the luggage, especially since all the others have theirs so just take my card. We’ll consider this part of the program budget.”

“Sweet! Diamond, wow, never held one before. Dad’s only up to the black card.” Moetini admired Ben’s credit card. “This is going to be fun, (Y/N)!”

“Um, no. I’m a villain kid. They’re going to think I stole your card. I’m not trying to get sent back to the Isle on my first day, I’ll just have to figure something out. Probably Evie, you’d be surprised what that girl can do with a bedsheet.”

“We’re not letting you walk around in bed sheets. I’ll just come with you guys, I guess.”

“Are you sure? Shopping up your alley?”

“Not really,” Ben said grabbing a jacket and closing his room door.

“But you need stuff and like you said, we’re not trying to get you sent back to Isle on your first day… just how long do you two think this is going to take? Please say nothing over two hours.”

Ben shuddered, thinking of all the shopping Audrey had dragged him along to. You and Moetini just looked at each other.

“Moetini, how many shops are in Auradon’s mall?”

“Just under 200. A few of them are food stalls, though.”

“Ooh, shopping and snacks… sorry Prince Ben, you might be used to this but I’ve never seen a mall before. I’m about to go wild, especially with this.” You grabbed his credit card out of Moetini’s hand, waving it around and smiling.

“This might’ve been a mistake.”

“Too late now, Benjamin!” Moetini laughed as she dragged the two of you along towards the mall.

You were in your eleventh store. Skin care, handled. Now you were on to shoes and clothes and then you’d head for makeup and accessories. You lost Ben somewhere back in the sixth store so now it was just you and Moetini.

“Look at these shoes!” You were admiring a nice pair of heels.

“Hey, Heart. These ones have hearts on them.”

“Is that too much? Would I be like, too extra for going with the heart and roses motif?”

“Too extra? You’re asking me if something’s too extra?” Moetini held up her arm covered in sharpie drawings, that looked like a real tattoo sleeve.

You looked at the shoes before grabbing them. “If they go with an outfit, then I’ll get them.”

Moetini clapped her hands and you two walked towards the dressing rooms. You were going from the changing room to the little sitting area where Moetini rested back and forth. It was a mini fashion show, occasionally even the store clerks would chime when they thought something looked exceptionally good. You were taking a mini break just to try on shoes when Ben came back with three pretzels and some lemonade.

“Do you girls never get tired of shopping?”

“Shopping like this?! I don’t think I’ll ever get sick of it. You sure I can get this stuff?” You stood up and walked around in the heels you just strapped up, testing them.

“Yeah, don’t worry about it. You needed to replace your luggage.”

You were having fun but you probably wouldn’t buy everything you liked, or you would at least work to pay Ben off for some of it. You went to sit back down and take off the shoes, they weren’t as nice as the heart ones Moetini pointed out. Ben handed you your pretzel and lemonade.

“Thanks, Prince Ben.”

“You don’t have to call me that.”

“Some people made it clear that titles were important.”

“Yeah sure they are; but, everyone at school calls me Ben. You go to school right?”

“Okay. Thanks, Ben.”

“No problem. So, does you sitting down mean we can leave?”

“Ha. No. We’re just taking a snack break.”

You were back in the dressing room, trying on your last outfit in one of the last stores. The zipper was hard to reach in the back. Normally, you’d have no problem unzipping it but Auradon liked to coat their zippers in something shiny. That also made them a bit slippery and you couldn’t get a proper grip on it.

“Moetini?! Moetini?!” You yelled for the girl but no one responded.

“Do you need something?” Ben asked from the other side of your dressing room door.

“Where’s Moetini?”

“Bathroom, why?”

“I’m stuck…” you muttered.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“I’m stuck in this dress! I can’t get the zipper.” You flung open the door, to show Ben the zipper that was in the one spot your hand couldn’t reach. “See, it’s too slippery to get. I need her to undo it.”

“Oh, I can help you with that.” Ben unzipped it halfway to a point you could reach but without exposing anything as to protect your modesty.

“Umm, thank you.” You closed the door with one hand, careful not to let the dress fall, so you could change.

(Part 3)...

[mustyrosewater]

• 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙠𝙨 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙞𝙣 𝙤𝙧𝙙𝙚𝙧 || 𝙣𝙞𝙠𝙞 𝙡𝙖𝙪𝙙𝙖 𝙭 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧 ↠ NSFW

warnings  ↠  swearing, bratiness, nsfw activites, s e x, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it kids) niki being a bit rough

word count  ↠  8,045 (i know right?)

synopsis  ↠  after being caught in a restricted area during a race by niki lauda, he intends to make your life a living hell

                                                                                                                                your body flops onto the couch of your fathers study, your father who despite clicking away on his typewriter, still manages to look up at you and scrunch his face up at the sight of what you'd chosen to wear. even if he didn't say anything, you could tell by the look on his face that your clothing of choice was the reason. 

looking up at the ceiling of your fathers study, delicate patterns painted into the white surface, providing a rather beautiful picture for you to stare at as you waited for her father to finally finish whatever work he was doing; eager to get on to the activities your family had planned. with little to no warning last night, your mother had poked her head into your room to let you know that you were being dragged along with your father and mother to the races tomorrow, the formula three out in london to be precise. being given little to no choice as to whether or not you'd be accompanying them, you thought it only fair you ignite your own small personal resistance by making sure to wear an outfit you know your father and mother would detest to no end. a lovely minidress, with earthy tones and patterns, accompanied with a dark brown of leather knee high boots, all topped with one of her most favorite fur coats. with an outfit like this, you knew your parents would be embarrassed to no end. they'd long given up on trying to control your behavior, quickly realizing that their daughter's continuous spouts of acting out were something they'd rather ignore than put effort into; a mindset that seemed to encourage you, while your parents only ignored you more.  you'd be lying if you said that races didn't bring you a sense of wicked anticipation; it wasn't the sport that excited you in of itself, but the people you would encounter. you knew you had little interest in watching cars speed around in a circle over 70 times, you did however, have a very keen interest in racers and the people they encountered.  it had not taken much longer of annoying your father before he caved and picked up his coat, eliciting an excited grin from his daughters face as you jumped up from the couch and practically skipped out to the car where your mother was already waiting for you both, applying powder to her face. perhaps in another world, a world where your parents weren't socialites who cared for nothing but the way they appeared to others, you wouldn't have been swept under the rug as the disappointment. maybe you would have gotten the attention you so craved as a child.  swept out of your own thoughts as the car's engine sprung to life, it was not long before you were driving out of the painfully long driveway of the estate and in the direction of the location of the formula three race track. - the moment you opened the car door and exited, you could hear the sound of conversations and laughter within the crowds, accompanied by the sound of drills and tools in the background, no doubt racers making any last minute adjustments to their cars before it was time to go out onto the track.  it hadn't taken long for your mother and father to begin mingling with friends of theirs, all while you stood on the sidelines, occasionally smiling politely and shaking hands of people who insisted they'd met you before at one of your parents many dinner parties, yet there were too many for you yourself to keep up with, especially when you normally spent them hulled up in your room desperately trying to escape any and all interactions.  it was drawing on and on, slowly driving you crazy, you hadn't even been able to go to your seat yet, purely because your father was constantly getting distracted by people he knew, that or business partners.  surprisingly enough, it was easier than you thought to slip away from your parents radar, simply taking a skillful hard left turn as they continued walking further into the crowd of people for them to converse with. a fate you were more than happy to avoid. looking around, you adjusted the brown tinted sunglasses hanging on your nose bridge, pushing them slightly further down so that you could scope out the area you'd managed to find yourself in. to be fair, you hadn't exactly known where you were going when you took that sudden left turn, only that you wanted to disappear from your parents view, a goal you had succeeded in, only to be set with another. find out where exactly you'd ended up.  continuing further, you very quickly realized you'd turned directly into the racers area, hearing the sound of drills and tools in the distance, as well as the occasional chatter as men walked past you, offering no investigation as to who you were and why you were in this area. this didn't exactly surprise you, seeing as it was nowhere near abnormal for racers to gain a plethora of groupies. walking around all of the trailers, you couldn't help but peer your head around to stare at the cars within, your curiosity getting the better of you.  it didn't take much longer before your snooping led you to a particularly interesting sight, a beautiful red formula vee, an expensive one at that. whoever it was who owned this machine most certainly did not spare any expense when it came to upgrades.  reaching your hand forward, you hesitated, taking a moment to look left and right, ensuring that there was nobody around before you threw all caution to the wind, biting back a borderline shit eating grin before leaning forward to run your fingertips on the cars smooth surface.  though expensive, you had to admire it, it was indeed a beautiful car, very well looked after. every gear was polished to perfection, it was clean as a whistle and every part of it was up to date; whoever owned this car wasn't just well off, they knew about what made a good working car. you were prepared to have the question of the cars owner remain one that was unanswered, you should have gone back sooner, even if your parents most certainly weren't missing you, the race was bound to start soon.  "would you mind telling me what you're doing?" you never truly understood the phrase 'scared half to death' until now, feeling your heart jump to life, beating rapidly as you spun around to see the culprit to your near heart attack.  quickly trying to gain your composure, you reached a hand to pull some of the hair that fell forward out of your face, steadying yourself and raising your eyebrows in some poor attempt to appear cool and collected despite the fact that the smirk this stranger wore most certainly met that he knew he had scared you and found it amusing.  already drawn in by the appeal of the challenge her was proposing, you tilted your head and only mirrored his smirk; letting your head turn back down to the car, only just now noticing the name written on the middle in white writing. "niki lauda i'm guessing?"  his response was only to raise his eyebrows, tilting his head and raising his arms out to gesture to himself in a way before crossing them promptly, only returning to the vaguely unimpressed look he was first wearing. you couldn't stand that look, it reminded you far too much of your father. "i can't imagine how you could have guessed."  sarcasm dripped from his voice, along with an accent you couldn't quite pinpoint, you knew it was german, but you were unable to guess exactly where in germany. you wanted to pretend you were surprised that the person with one of the most well looked after cars was in fact german, yet you just couldn't.  the fact that you'd been near his car without his permission or knowledge was definitely the main reason he seemed annoyed by your presence, however, it probably didn't help that you only let out a small chuckle and shrugged your shoulders, only seeming to antagonize him more. letting out a sigh, you took a moment to push your sunglasses back in front of your eyes, looking out back in the direction you came from before back at lauda, smirking and turning around without another word, making sure you made a show of flipping your hair back around.  "where do you think you're going?" his tone didn't so much give off the vibes of authority, it was more of an actual question, as if he were in disbelief that after being caught red handed touching his car, you would just walk off.  not bothering to turn around, your grin remained unseen by lauda as you held your hand up in a wave. "i'm going to watch the race." you said it as if it were a fact he was too ignorant to be aware of, stating it as if it were the obvious all in an attempt to annoy him more.  "good luck out there!" you called, disappearing back around the corner before he could even have time to make up some smart comment.  your quest to annoy lauda had very much succeeded, probably more so than expected as he shook his head watching you leave. and yet, the one other thing you'd done without even meaning to, was peak lauda's curiousity. - it wasn't difficult to find your parents again, they had finally made their way to their seats, and despite the amount of time you'd spent away, they didn't even seem to acknowledge you as you sat down beside them, eager to watch the race, which was only now beginning to get underway.  you hadn't meant to, yet you found yourself looking out for that same red formula vee that you knew was lauda's. some weird interest you'd found in the man, especially the way he'd reacted to the way in you more than purposefully had been annoying him previously.  it hadn't been much longer before the race had officially started; with a wave of the checkered flag, the cars were immediately off, speeding around with sharp sounds invading your ears each time they passed you and your family.  by the time the fifth lap had gone by, you were well and truly bored. reaching into your pocket, you pulled out your saving grace, your packet of marlborough cigarettes; opening said packet and pulling one out to place it between your lips, reaching into your pocket to search for the lighter you were almost certain you'd placed in your pocket earlier. to your surprise, it was strangely absent from your pocket, only producing an annoyed sigh as you rolled your eyes.  without a word, you reached for your fathers pocket, who either didn't notice you pulling out his lighter, or simply refused to acknowledge you; either way, you didn't complain as you finally lit up your cigarette, sucking in the ashy taste and holding it within your mouth as you pulled the cylinder away from your lips, blowing the smoke out in a small cloud in front of you which soon drifted off. -  despite a major incident involving spinning cars and a few very close calls, you'd managed to sit through the rest of the race without any other distractions.  you hoped that your wish of good luck to lauda was not the cause for him spinning out of control and ultimately losing to james hunt, yet you could never be too sure; though you hated to admit that the thought brought a chuckle out of you.  even though you'd had fun teasing lauda, you were more than grateful that the race was finally over and that people were beginning to leave, meaning that hopefully soon, you would be as well.  once again you found yourself standing behind your parents, taking little care to be subtle with your boredom, openly sighing and tapping your boot against the gravel in the hopes that this would speed them up; though this proved to be futile and frankly, you should have known better seeing as they had become impressively adept at ignoring your presence.  the noise of their conversation seemed to slowly fade into nothing but muffled sounds in the background as you crossed your arms and looked around, taking the moment to begin people watching, even noticing as james hunt celebrated his win, briefly passing by just as him and his group popped open a bottle of champagne.  as much as you saw the lifestyle racers seem to lead as a novelty, the accident that occurred today only reminded how dangerous of a sport it really was, men choosing to put their lives on the line for the sake of peoples entertainment? it was hard not to admire them, there was no arguing that they were good at what they did.  you definitely didn't regret not seeing said accident produce any gruesome results; you'd only ever heard what had happened to racers in the past, men that were considered lucky to make it out with crippling injuries, because surely that was better than losing your own life right? that was a point that could be argued profusely; was the loss of quality of life really better the loss of a life all together? while you would have been happy to continue this solo conversation of ethics and virtues of life in your own head, you were ripped out of your own thoughts by the sound of your father once again noticing somebody he knew, yet this time, you could very proudly say it was somebody you yourself also knew, albeit you'd only known him for around three hours.  "niki lauda! look at you! still going strong after a spin!" 

your first instinct was to immediately turn your head sideways, hoping that he wouldn’t notice it was you, a feeble attempt to be honest, now you were suddenly finding reason to regret wearing such an eye catching outfit.

you could only just see out of the corner of your eye as lauda greeted your father fondly with a handshake, so far not looking over to you much to your relief.

continuing to watch as he also greeted your mother, any and all hopes of getting away from this without greeting lauda was squashed the moment your father gripped your upper arm, yanking you forward to come face to face with lauda.

“have you met my daughter, lauda?” 

finally looking back ahead slowly, your eyes, covered by sunglasses thankfully, made facing lauda only slightly less intimidating. 

in a moment of silence, the look on lauda’s face gave away the fact that he re’d recognized you instantly, the slight smirk on his face only you were able to catch as he looked at you as if to say “caught you.” 

and yet, you had no idea why he suddenly looked back to your father, shaking his head and smiling. 

“i can’t say i have.” 

looking back at you, he leaned forward to grip your hand firmly, shaking it and stepping back as if you were poisonous to the touch. to be fair, you didn’t exactly blame him. 

it seemed you weren’t the only one itching to end the interaction between the two of you, you father quickly grabbing lauda’s attention once more with a satisified hum, beginning to walk alongside lauda.

“you should come to my estate tonight for a drink, celebrate your close call eh?” 

even you had to cringe at your fathers poor excuse to invite lauda over, you doubted he was feelign particularly good after that loss, yet any excuse for your father to mingle with those that could held him climb the social ladder.

once again trying your best to tune out the conversation as you walked behind them, your hearing still managed to pick up the result of your father pestering lauda despite his first three kind refusals. 

with a sigh, seeming to actually put an effort into hiding his distaste with your fathers attitude, lauda offered a thin lipped smile. 

“i suppose there’s no refusing this, is there.” 

with an outright lack of awareness to lauda’s tone and even the way he was already treating this invitation like a chore, your father grinned and patted lauda on the back firmly with a laugh. 

“no there is not my boy.” 

as desperate as lauda seemed to get away from the conversation, he still took a moment to turn around, offering you and your mother an awkward smile, only to turn his attention briefly towards you and only you.

the look on his face couldn’t be described as anything but smug as he offered you a polite nod before walking off in the other direction without another word, leaving you standing there in an almost stunned state. 

only to be taken out of said state as your father ordered you to get back in the car so that you could head back and be certain that the estate and ensure that i was prepared for lauda’s arrival. 

-

as much as you’d protested against your father and begged your mother to let you just stay in your room for the rest of the night, you ultimately failed.

not even trying to hide the sour look on your face as you stood beside your mother at the entrance of your large home, you watched as the gate was opened for lauda’s car, which came running into the driveway slightly faster than you thought was reasonable. 

you would have been content for the incident with the car to be and you and niki lauda’s interactions, if you had known you would be forced to sit in his company with your parents, you most definitely would not have been so snarky about touching his car. especially not walking off without a word. 

no doubt firm on keeping their image at least slightly reasonable, your previous outfit had quickly been abandoned, instead being forced to change into a simple mini dress with black stockings and shoes. a painfully simple outfit. and an uncomfortable one at that. 

this was made clear by the way that you were constantly shifting in the dress, attempting to roll your shoulders and cringing when the fabric allowed little to no movement. this was only responded to by your mother scolding you under her breath as lauda exited his car. 

no longer in his baby blue racing suit you’d seen him in up to this point, he had abandoned it for a smart looking button up shirt and blazer, paired with jeans and dress shoes.

it was admittedly an odd sight, not just for lauda, but in general it was an odd sight seeing racers in normal clothes compared to the suits they so often wore. 

watching as your father greeted lauda enthusiastically, then your mother, you could hardly hide the fake nature of your smile as you once again extended your hand to lauda without a word. 

in some odd way, lauda seemed to be amused with your nature towards him. after all, he knew full well that he’d well and truly caught you out. now it was the two of you playing a waiting game to see who was going to break first.

-

the drink that your father mentioned passed by smoothly enough, all four of you in your fathers study as lauda and your father sipped at scotch and spoke about a multitude of boring topics that you couldn’t bother to engage yourself apart from the occasional hum of acknowledgment when your father briefly included your opinion into the conversation.

choosing instead to actively depart yourself from their presence, you pretended to be enthralled in a book as you sat across from lauda, a large coffee table separating the couches you sat on.

every now and then, your curiosity would gain the upper hand as you found your eyes flashing upwards to try and catch a not so sneaky glance at lauda.

every single time without failure, lauda’s eyes were on you, staring you down as if you were a deer in headlights. 

his stare was similar to the feeling you got when sitting in front of a fire for a little bit too long, uncomfortable and making you feel far too warm. it was as piercing as the rest of his personality was. 

you had thought yourself to be a tough person, you’d gotten in scuffles with other kids as a child in school, and you’d been the type to graze your knees and get up as if it were nothing; but niki’s stare glaring upon you constantly eventually proved to be too much for even you to handle. 

finally unable to take it any longer, you stood up without a word, seemingly alerting niki as you could see his eyes widen slightly before maintaining his poker face. 

your parents were also visibly surprised as your mother jumped softly, placing a hand daintily over her heart as your father turned away from niki to look at you, a brief warning expression lacing his features, as if to say

 “don’t you dare ruin this for us.” 

you seemed to almost relieve him with your next question, not being able to bring yourself to look over at niki as you held your arms firmly to your sides.

“may i be please be excused, i’m tired.”

the warning previously on your father shifted into an odd look of surprise as his brows furrowed; you had no doubt this was due to the fact that not only did you ask something politely, but that your tone had no inch of sarcasm whatsoever.

the shock seemed to take his voice away as he only nodded, watching as you turned and began to walk out of the study. 

“don’t be rude, aren’t you going to say goodnight to our guest?” 

you wouldn’t be surprised if the way you tensed up at the sound of your fathers words was visible to all in the room; this was confirmed even more so when you turned slowly and saw niki’s expression as he still sat on the couch smirking once more.

only nodding your head, you took a few steps and held out your hand awkwardly for him to shake. 

“goodnight, mr lauda.” 

the stiffness of your voice only made the interaction more awkward as you stood there waiting for him to shake your hand.

you were unable to see your parents in the corner of your eye, but you held little doubt that they were cringing as if at any moment your real personality was going to jump out and ruin any chances they had of getting into lauda’s good books and they would have lost an influential friend. 

rather, they, your mother especially were shocked, yourself included when rather than simply shake your hand, niki gripped it softly, bringing it towards his lips to kiss the back of your hand softly, his eyes never leaving your own. 

you were unsure if this was his odd version of rubbing it in, or he simply wanted to embarrass you in front of your parents as he pulled his lips away, running his thumb along your knuckles slowly as he smirked up at you.

though anybody not aware of your current little game (if you could even call it that) would perceive it as a friendly smile of niki’s part.

“please, call me niki.”

you could strangle him right in that moment, god you wanted to, wipe that stupid little smirk off of his face if your parents were not watching your every move.

as soon as you felt his grip loosen, you were unable to stop yourself from ripping your hand from his own. god his hands were warm.

“goodnight.. niki..” 

you hadn’t meant for your voice to shake, but it still did, and it annoyed you to end as his smirk only widened at this.  you'd be lying if you said that the moment you turned you hadn't looked like you were practically running away. even as if walked down the hall and up the stairs towards your bedroom, you could hear your father apologizing profusely for your rudeness, only to hear niki brushing it off politely.  -  that had happened a week ago, and as much as you wished you could say that was the last you'd seen of niki lauda for a long while; that was hardly the case. in fact, it was the polar opposite.  you couldn't tell whether or not he was doing it to annoy you or because he actually enjoyed the company of your father, but if you weren't aware enough of your fathers skill when it came to hosting guests, you would have actually been dumb enough to say that it was indeed the latter. it was in fact painfully obvious to you that lauda's continued appearances within your household as a guest of your father were done with nothing other than the intention to spite you.  though what was finally the cherry on top, what was starting to make you wonder if he actually did find genuine enjoyment in spending time with your parents or if he just really, really enjoyed making you suffer. he had invited your parents to a party to celebrate one his most recent wins which they had also dragged you along to come and watch. and of course, he made sure to extend the invitation to you. "should she wish to come along." he'd said, as if he didn't know that your parents were going to drag you along anyway.  it was for that reason now you were sitting in front of your vanity, trying not to cringe as your mother pulled and teased your hair, styling it into a small beehive, seemingly at the request of your father, no doubt wanting all of you to look your very best, considering this was yet another chance to mingle and make new, rich friends.  sat in a mini dress with long bell sleeves, its paisley patterns reminding you of so many other items in your wardrobe; all finely paired with a pair of brown platfrom knee high boots and a fur coat.  it was fucking uncomfortable. your feet were already hurting, and the length made you second guess how much of your ass could be seen every second and this hairstyle was going to be a bitch to take out later.  as much as you would have been more than happy to outwardly complain, you were simply too sick of it to even try. sick sick of your parents, sick of it all.  maybe tonight you could even do the mature thing and finally apologize to lauda; yet, you couldn't tell whether or not it was actually going to bring an end to lauda's games with you, he seemed to be enjoying it too much.  - after a vaguely long car ride, you finally arrived at what you quickly realized was lauda's house, you could already see people on the balcony chatting away and you could hear music playing from inside. exiting the car and shutting the door behind you, you quickly trotted to catch up with your parents who were already walking over the door by the time you'd gotten out; in the back of your mind, you gave a silent prayer that you'd be able to sneak away at some point and find your own space, hopefully even get a chance to have a smoke if you found a quiet enough corner.  opening the door and heading inside, your parents were instantly enthralled with the music and sheer amount of people in lauda's house, all nursing champagne and chatting away; already you could tell they couldn't wait to join. keeping your eyes peeled for lauda, it didn't take long for your parents to lose you in the crowd; you would have laughed if it didn't happen so often, and you couldn't exactly say you minded anyway. it only took another minute or so of moving through people to find the balcony you had seen upon exiting the car. making a beeline for it, you stepped out and enjoyed the slightly fresher air, breathing a sigh of relief as you were no longer squished in between groups of people to such an intense degree.  reaching for your packet of cigarettes and taking one out to place in between your lips, you had only just begun to reach for your new lighter when you had to cut your relief short. "that's quite a sour face to wear at a party, no?" you didn't even hide the disappointment on your face as you turned to face lauda, rolling your eyes. you were well past hiding your distaste for him. now you'd had more than enough time to realize it was very much your own fault, you'd given him a reason to annoy you when you'd not only leaned on his car and then given him an attitude, but had you known that wasn't the only time you'd see him, you would have at least been nicer about it. noticing your expression, he placed a hand over his heart mockingly and let out a hurt sound. "if looks could kill."  his smirk was ever present, digging into your nerves like nails against a chalkboard as you placed your hands in your pockets, not saying anything as you kept your cigarette placed between your lips, hoping that just maybe, you'd have a break from him, obviously a stupid hope.  only raising his hand, you quickly noticed the lighter in his hand, ignited and placed at the end of your cigarette. out of reflex, you inhaled, reaching up to place the paper cylinder between your fingers and pulling it away from your lips, blowing the smoke out of the side of your mouth. it wasn't until you took a slightly closer look at the lighter that you realised. your lighter. he had your lighter, the one you'd lost the first time you met.  you wanted to mentally slap a hand on your forehead then and there, of course you'd left it, only for him to find.  holding out your hand expectantly, he pulled it away before you could grasp your lighter, going so far as to mock you as if you were a child with a small "ah ah ah"  painfully reminded of your time in school as a small child, you huffed and rolled your eyes, reaching for it once more only for it to be pulled from your gasp once more.  "come now, you know the magic word, yes? you learn this in school, little girl?"  his mocking toned was worsened as he leaned down slightly to talk to your at your level, only resulting in you placing a hand on your hip an glaring up at him.  this look only worsened his stupid grin as he raised his eyes brows, waiting for you to say said magic word.  putting on your best sarcastic smile, you made your voice as annoying as you could possibly muster, shaking your head as you spoke. "please?" you extended it slightly, as if you were a child asking for their toy back. and as laced with sarcasm as it was, he still responded with a loud "wunderbar!" raising his arms up slightly as if he were celebrating. finally handing you your lighter, you snatched at it, placing it back in your pocket and reaching up to take another inhale of your cigarette as you glared up at him. shaking his head, lauda's gaze paired with that signature smirk stared down at you as he looked at you almost in an odd sort of admiration. "you're a real brat, you know this?"  you most definitely couldn't lie, that was not the first time you'd been given that title; countless times actually, school teachers, your parents, relatives, even ex partners. it was now your turn to wear a smirk as you raised your eyebrows, raising your hands up in defense.  "i can't lie." you spoke, tilting your head and shrugging your shoulders. your response, for the first time, seemed to catch lauda off guard, possibly expecting you to have defended yourself rather than embrace the title. "maybe i like being a brat, lauda."  you narrowed your eyes, proud of yourself for finally seeming to put a chip in this mans ego. his eyes only narrowed in return, his face taking on a new expression that couldn't quite be place as you took another drag of your cigarette, really nailing in your point hard as you blew the smoke right in his face with no hesitation and a smirk as you placed your thumb between your teeth, grinning. "how many times have i told you to call me niki?" his tone was darker this time, more authority slipping against his words. you wanted to blame being caught up in the moment or finally being able to break this mans cocky exterior, but something about the tone of his voice and the way he spoke to you, it produced butterflies within your stomach that you tried with all of your might to ignore.  tilting your head, you took a step forward to ensure he would hear you over the music as you lowered your voice, leaning in slightly. "or what?"  even if somebody were unable to hear your expression, they'd be able to hear the smile in your voice. shifting your weight from foot to foot, you kept eye contact with niki as you leaned back, his eyes not leaving yours for one moment, narrowed at you, making you think for a solid moment of two that he was genuinely angry at you.  without any sort of warning or sign, lauda's hand lurched forward, gripping your wrist, not so tightly that it hurt, but most certainly enough to get your attention as he pulled you towards him, so close that your chests were touching as he looked down at you.  "watch that tone with me."  his growling voice was most certainly affecting you as he seemed to recognize that the both of you were getting very invested in whatever the fuck dynamic you had created.  as invested as he was, in an odd way, you could still see in his eyes he was watching for any signs of making you uncomfortable, almost as if he was telling you he'd stop the moment you were uncomfortable.  "and if i dont? are you going to bend me over your knee?" you leaned in slightly as you teased him, so much so that you bet he could smell the smoke on your breath as neither of you broke eye contact. whether it was the image of you bent over his knee or the fact that you had only continued to tease him you didn't know; what you did know however, was that that was the last straw for him as he kept his grip on your wrist.  wasting no time leading you back inside, barely giving you time to flick your cigarette off of his balcony before you were weaving through crowds of people, almost tripping over your own platform boots as you were led wherever he was planning on taking you.  obviously knowing his own house like the back of his hand, it didn't take long for the two of you to arrive where you were heading. his bedroom. quickly opening the door and shoving you in lightly, he shut it behind him, not even hiding the slam as he turned to face you, his eyes still dark as you stood there, still smirking and biting your lip.  "wasn't sure whether or not i'd be able to get a rise out of you, glad i know no-" your words were cut up by him quickly walking towards you and gripping your chin with his large hand, squeezing your cheeks together slightly as he other hand gripped your wrist once more.  "you've been nothing but a little brat since the moment i met you, it seems to me you must like pissing me off. is that it? you like knowing how much you make my cock hard when you prance around in those little skirts and give me backchat?" his tone alone was already enough to only widen your grin, but the things he was saying were adding to the butterflies in your stomach. determined not to give up your attitude just yet, you let go of any and all control you'd been holding onto, reaching forward to clamp your hand onto his thigh, dangerously close to where you could already see an outline forming. his only response to your touch was a sharp intake as his eyes closed momentarily, only to snap back open as he shoved you backwards, briefly scaring you before you fell back onto his bed. looking up at him as he stood above you, his legs touching your knees, you could see how his chest rose and fell with every deep breath he took. his eyes raked over your body, observing every part of where your dress rode up, and then back up to meet your gaze, only to begin undoing the statement buckle on his belt, once again watching you for any signs of being uncomfortable as he continued. only widening your smirk, he seemed to get the message as he completely discarded the belt on his rug floor.  as he began to fiddle with the button and zipper on his jeans, he leaned forward to land on his knees on the bed, above you and staring you down. "as much i'd love to play with you until your crying and screaming my name, i need to bury myself in that pretty little pussy of yours." his voice was breathy as he leaned forward, using his knee to push your legs apart, your mini skirt already riding up enough for him to get a full view of your underwear.  you couldn't find it in yourself to say anything else, already convincing yourself that this was all some sick dream of yours and now you were going to wake up no longer able to look niki in the eye.  his lower half disappeared from your view as he finally put weight on top of you, through you could still hear the fabric of his jeans shifting as he settled in between your legs. even through the fabric separating the two of you, you both shivered when you felt your hips make contact, letting out shaky breaths as you looked up at him and he looked down at you.  as much as you expected him to take things at least slightly slow, he did the opposite, wasting no time as he moved your own fabric to the side, only sliding his tip along your entrance softly in order to brace yourself and give you another chance to stop him if you had changed your mind.  only placing a hand on his cheek and nodding quickly, did he respond with a similar nod before entering you quickly and with little no mercy.  you were unable to stop yourself from leaning for head back and crying out loudly, only for niki's hand to clasp over your mouth as he looked down at you. "i know the music is loud, but i need you to, oh sheibe-" he cut himself off by inhaling sharply, groaning softly and shutting his eyes as he began to move inside you, his hips rotating ever so slightly as they moved back and fourth, only resulting in you moaning into his hand. "i know the music is loud, but i need you to be quiet for me, can you do that?" his voice was so low it was almost coming out as a growl as he continued to thrust into you as he spoke, trying not to keep groaning in between his words as he shut his eyes tightly and cursed in german once more.  you couldn't like, he was a stretch for you, there was pain at first but it had quickly begun shifting into pleasure as he continued and you became more used to the way he felt inside you. you knew there was an element of time involved lest he be missed at his own party, god forbid one of the guests go looking for him especially seeing as you were almost certain that door hadn't been locked. continued to thrust, his hands found there way on your back as he rose to his knees, taking you with him and sitting you on his lap, forcing you to wrap your arms around his neck for support as he effectively began to bounce you on his cock. the only thing you were able to do to stop your whimpers and moans from being heard was to bury your head in his neck, his head turning slightly to the side to bury itself in your hair.  beginning to help him out slightly by bouncing yourself on his lap, you felt your hips beginning to cramp and ache but brought yourself to ignore the pain as it was currently outweighed by the sheer amount of pleasure you felt as he fucked you.  growling into your hair, you felt his head move back so that he could begin leaving love bites on the parts of your neck that weren't covered by your dress; you couldn't even pay attention to the fact that you would have to walk back out into that party with love bites for all to see, your parents especially. part of you just hoped there would be no way to link them back to niki.  picking up speed, you began to bounce faster on niki's lap as he too began to go faster, feeling the muscles within your stomach starting to tighten as rationality left your body and adrenaline took over. in that moment, nothing felt more important than chasing your high, knowing it was only on the horizon.  it seemed niki was feeling the same way as he growled deeply, pulling his head away to look into your eyes as he gripped your hips and slammed them against his own with little to no mercy, caring little for the bruising that would no doubt be left over the next day.  it hadn't taken much more of this for you be a whimpering mess, feeling yourself tighten quickly around niki's cock, only to begin hearing the sloppy sounds of your wetness slapping while niki still continued to essentially jackhammer into you, still chasing his own high. as you began to come down from your orgasm, the sensitivity of niki still fucking you relentlessly had you whimpering and panting as you once again buried your head in his shoulder, trying to remain as quiet as you could, though this was proving to be a difficult task.  it wasn't long before you felt niki twitching from inside you, only to followed by the hot feeling of him cumming deeply inside you, his own deep and guttural moans releasing from his throat, cutting themselves off occasionally as he twitched and leaned his head back, his mouth hanging open as he shut his eyes.  collapsing backwards, niki fell on top of you, panting with his brown curly locks sticking to his forehead as he laid his head on your chest. post orgasm high, you both seemed to let reality hit you as you looked at each other, realizing you'd both been missing from the party for longer than you thought, exchanging no words apart from a few worried sounds of alertness as you scrambled off of one another, quickly righting yourselves.  it had only taken another two minutes or so to appear semi inconspicuous as you finally made your way back to his door, bracing yourselves before opening it and stepping out, only to see your parents walking towards you, quickly spotting you and calling your name. "where have you been? we've been looking for you everywhere, have you seen niki? he went missing an-" before you could even try to find a valid explanation, through they hadn't seemed very concerned for you and more so for niki's whereabouts, you felt niki walk up behind you, leaning against the door frame and greeting your parents. "she got lost." he began, placing a hand on your shoulder, cool as ever, as if minutes ago he hadn't just been fucking your brains out. "i was showing her photos from past races. lets get a drink, yes?" quickly deflecting from any questions they may have as to why you both just exited his bedroom, niki began to lead them to where they could get a drink, leaving you, shaking your head at the fact that they actually fucking bought that. - it was hours later that the party was actually beginning to wrap up, drunken people being led back to taxi's and niki saying goodbye to guests as the music had now stopped and there had been one to many neighbourly complaints.  you were unsure whether or not you should try to go and say goodbye to niki, post sex clarity was no proposing a very awkward question as to where the fuck that had left the two of you now; you weren't even afraid to admit that the idea of having any other interaction with niki from this point forward scared the fuck out of you.  one could argue that it was all spur of the moment, and you hadn't really had time to communicate whatsoever afterwards, distracted by the fact that you were scrambling to get your clothes back on. you weren't even sure yourself what you wanted it to be, it felt more like a situation of you didn't want to find out.  and yet, once again, your wishes were ignored by whatever higher power was controlling things, because as you were walking back to the car with your parents, still trying to make any sort of sense of what had transpired, you heard the voice behind you calling after your parents.  turning, you placed your hands in your pockets as you watched niki wish your parents a goodnight, letting your mother kiss him on the cheek as well as let your father give him a firm handshake as thanks occurred. he looked over at you only briefly, his eyes and expression next to unreadable as he quickly looked back at your parents, offering to walk them to their car.  turning around quickly, you began to walk quickly to the car, unfortunately slowed down by your boots as your parents soon overtook you, leaving you and niki almost side by side behind them.  though neither of you said anything, your eyes widened when you felt his hand fall on your lower back, then soon to your backside, giving it a squeeze that made you jump slightly, turning your head to look at him with an annoyed and wide eyed look, only to once again be met with that same fucking smirk.  as you finally caught up with your parents, they only turned as niki pulled his hand away, thankfully missing the fact that he'd done that as they thanked him for a good night. opening the car door, you were immediately met with a sharp look from your father.  "maybe you should say goodnight to niki, seeing as he was so generous as to extend the invitation to you." your father said slightly under his breath in a warning tone, only to turn back to niki. "sorry, she can be such a little brat sometimes." by the look on niki's face, you could see him holding in a smirk as he shook his head dismissively and waving his hand. "ah, its fine. i don't mind at all." he finished his sentence by wishing you a goodnight, only now extending the smirk to you as you stared back at him for a moment, slightly still in shock that your parents could be just that clueless.  "goodnight, niki." you finally said, wasting no time getting in your seat and shutting the door. 

[pingguins]

Begin Again | Chapter 2: Grit

Newt x Reader

Words: 2,826

Warnings: Talks of suicide and mentions of torture.

Synopsis: What do you do when you’ve gotten out? Out of the Maze, out of The Scorch, with WICKED supposedly destroyed? When the love of your life turns into the monster you and your friends have tried and failed to outrun?

The story takes place after Death Cure. Newt’s alive, but so are the workers of the people who trapped and tortured you.

As more of the story unfolds, Y/N and Newt have to survive and live with the fact that both are willing to die for each other. Hopefully, with allies ahead, they will go on to have a life instead of just surviving.

Everything happens for a reason. Now that Newt’s life has been given another chance, we can only wish that the story ends without having another’s taken away.

Even when all else fails, with enough time and perseverance-often times with strategy and purpose-life finds a way to begin again.

~

The lights were blaring as usual. This wretched place was always so bright, even at night. They said it was so that they can continue to monitor what I do in my room, as if I had anything to help me escape.

I lay on my bed, dressed in my white hospital gown, the areas where they inserted the needles still ached. It’s been a week, exactly seven days. They experimented on me just when I woke up, and right before I went to bed.

And every time, without fail, I would hear Newt shout my name, hoping to somehow ease my pain as he banged on the glass door.

Starting today, though, they said they would only “monitor” my brain activity once a day before I go to bed.

Hopefully, that would give Newt’s hands some time to rest.

Speaking of Newt, Grace brought something of his back to me the other day. I stood up, purposely tripping on my own foot as I fell down onto the white-tiled floor. I used the bed for support to stand back up, all the while discreetly getting the bracelet from underneath the mattress with my other hand.

I bunched it up at small as I can, the leather and twine rough against my palm as I sat on the bed, making sure to hide the bracelet under the white linen cloth and left it there.

Turning to the camera in the corner of the room, I yelled. “I know you’re watching you shuck-faces. Go tell someone to give me some water, I’m thirsty. It’s the least you can do after poking around in my brain all week,” I scoffed.

I swung my legs up onto the bed, draping the blanket over them, making sure that my left hand was also being covered as I clutched the bracelet tightly, fidgeting with it as I patiently wait for my water to arrive.

There was a button I could use beside my bed to call for someone when I needed it, but I never used it when I wanted a specific person to come to my room.

Matt was always watching—at least I hoped he was—and if I was right, Grace would be walking in soon with a glass and a pitcher of water, complete with a WICKED uniform.

As I waited, I laid down on my bed, placing the blanket up to my neck as I clutched the bracelet close to my heart. I was tired, I was lonely, and I had no idea if my friends ever made it to the Safe Haven. Tears spilt from my eyes as I silently cried for the future I yearned to have.

“The Maze Trials are going to start soon, the subjects have to be prepared,” Janson’s voice crackled through the speaker.

Like usual, I could feel the wires attached to my body, whirring machines could be heard accompanying the voices from behind the glass where Ava and Janson spoke.

“They’re already prepared. They’ve got through all the tests. All that’s left is to actually send them into the Maze,” Ava answered.

For supposedly smart people, they certainly aren’t mindful enough to notice when they’ve left the mic on.

“I’m not talking about the Group A and B,” Janson replied. I couldn’t see how they communicated, but it didn’t take a genius to figure out that they were clearly hiding something.

“We don’t even know for sure if she’s going into the Maze or what group she’ll be in,” he continued.

“We’ll have to see how she reacts. Besides, we aren’t sending Subject A5 in until the 3rd month. We have until then to intervene,” the woman replied, her voice remaining firm and professional.

“So that’s A6, A7, A13, and A5 as the first four subjects?”

Shit. Alby, Minho, Matt, and Newt.

No answer came after that, just a low hum that made my heart sink to my stomach.

Later that day, I spoke to Matt about what I heard. I wanted to tell the others, but Janson and Ava had been keeping tabs on me entire day, Matt was the first person I could get ahold of the moment they left me alone.

We were in the corner of the cafeteria, and Matt just about had a breakdown when he’d heard about how close the Maze Trials were.

“I don’t want to leave—”

“You’re not leaving,” I interrupted. “If there’s anyone here who’d serve as an asset to them, it’s you.” He opened his mouth to speak, but I continued. “And I don’t want to leave him alone in there. You don’t want to go into the Maze because you have no reason to, but I do. All you have to do is trust me.”

I woke up to the sound of the door opening, and glass hitting metal as a pitcher and a glass cup were placed on my bed-side table. The person who entered wore a full WICKED uniform, the masked figure looking up at the camera and back to me before removing their mask.

“Matt can only give us ten to fifteen minutes tops before he gets caught. So, any updates?” Grace asked, with one hand on her hip as she smoothed her hair with the other. I smirked.

“How’s Newt?”

Grace sat down on the bed with an exasperated sigh. “You signalled me here… to ask about your boyfriend?” she pouted.

“More or less, yeah,” I giggled. “No, but seriously. He has WICKED wrapped around his finger so we can really use him.”

“Well,” she sighed, giving me a pointed look. “If you really want to know, Newt seemed bored as hell, not to mention how worried he’s been for you. I don’t get how that guy hasn’t broken his vocal cords from all the screaming yet,” she joked. Well, half-joked. I wondered the same thing.

Before I could respond, Grace shifted so that her body faced me. “What did you dream about? You— you were mumbling in your sleep.”

I furrowed my eyebrows, trying to recall what exactly happened in the dream. It was pretty vague, but I could remember enough details, I guess. “I— it was before the Maze. Matt was there, and we were talking about something about him not going into the Maze?”

She froze as her breath hitched. I could already tell what she was thinking.

“So… I’m guessing it was a memory?” I asked. Grace kept her mouth shut as she nodded. I hummed, “Yeah, they said with all the klunk they’ve been doing to my brain that some of my memories might get jogged.”

I wasn’t entirely sure if that was a good thing. The people we were before and after the Maze are very different people, and whatever happened in the past has got to be left behind. Who knows what can change if any of us remember?

Taking a deep breath in, I shake my head to get rid of the image of Teresa standing with Ava Paige in that Berg. She was on our side until she got her memories back. I can’t risk that for Newt and I.

“I don’t want to remember,” I whispered. Grace didn’t say a word, she only placed a gentle hand on my back to comfort me. “What if remembering changes how Newt sees me? What if I go back to being who I was before the Maze?”

The girl beside me chuckled, patting my back before fiddling with her helmet. “What makes you think you’re so different from before?”

I raised my eyebrow, waiting for her to continue.

“I’d say more, but you said you didn’t want to know, so…” she teased, smirking as she side-eyed me.

I scoffed, hitting her gently on her shoulder as she laughed. “Okay, okay. I’ll keep going,” she giggled, letting out a breath as she recalled stories from several years ago. “Matt...he prefers to stay behind and take care of the cameras because he doesn’t want to talk to you.” Grace looked directly at the camera, giving it a pointed look, “yes, Matt, I’m telling her.”

She shook her head, her gaze going back to the helmet that her hands fidgeted with. “From what I know, you weren’t supposed to be in the Maze, he was. I’m not quite clear on how, but you knew the order of who was going into the Maze.”

My mind went back to the dream I had a few moments ago, recalling the events that had happened. It’s funny how even in my dreams, my brain was still being monitored and I was in a facility that looked eerily similar to the one I’m in now.

“Matt didn’t want to go…” Grace continued. “But you did. Because you wanted to be with Newt to make sure he was safe, even if you knew you weren’t going to remember each other. You caused a lot of chaos for that to happen,” she finished.

She looked up, looking directly at my eyes, her eyes swimming with emotions I couldn’t read. “Your memories were taken away from you, and yet, even after all of that, your mind never changed. You still want Newt to be safe, and you’re still going above and beyond to make that happen.”

I didn’t know what to say, I could only look back at her as my mind searched for the missing memories that I still wasn’t sure I wanted back yet.

Grace sighed, breaking eye contact as she stared ahead, yet I could tell by her eyes that she was still inside her head. “Believe it or not, Y/N, you didn’t change much. The only thing you did was grow up, and so did Newt. Regardless of your memories, I doubt anything is going to change,” she sighed.

She patted my thigh twice before standing up. “I’m not sure about Matt, but I’m ready to get out of this place whenever you are. You know the risks, though. If you want Newt to get far enough away from here, you might have to get left behind for a little while.”

“I know,” I replied, my face stoic.

“You sure about this? If I’m taking Newt to safety, I can’t ensure yours while I’m gone.” Her stature was that of a soldier, but her face showed uncertainty. “I’m asking because I sure as hell know that Newt wouldn’t approve of this,” she paused. “And neither do I. But it’s your call.”

I sat up straight with my head held high. “You said it yourself, I go above and beyond to make sure he’s safe,” I sighed, giving her a small grin as I showed her the bracelet on my wrist, looking at it with fondness in my eyes. “I can handle myself, more so if I have the knowledge that he’s out of here.”

She firmly nodded, not saying anything before walking towards the door and moving to put her helmet on, but before she could, I spoke. “Wait…”

The girl stopped, turning to face me as she waited for me to continue speaking.

“W-were,” I stuttered, caressing the bracelet with my thumb, my eyes directed at Grace. “Before the Maze Trials...were Newt and I…” I trailed off, not knowing what the right words were.

I was sure I cared about Newt way before the Maze, but I had no clue if the feelings were beyond just friendship and if the feelings were reciprocated.

“Will my answer change the way you see him?” she raised, to which I immediately shook my head and replied with a no.

She smiled, “Then it doesn’t matter.” Grace put on her helmet after that, leaving the room, letting the door close behind her and leaving me with my thoughts.

“I know you only wanted to help me, but going into the Maze at night was so shucking stupid.”

I looked up at Newt, my hand laid on his chest, his left arm behind me as we laid next to each other inside the med-Jacks hut. His leg was broken in three different places, so it was propped up, the Med-Jacks telling him not to exert himself more than he already has. You know, like breaking a shucking door down…

“Well, I don’t regret a single thing.” I stood my ground as he looked down directly into my eyes, his brown ones firm and authoritative.

“As the now second-in-command, I won’t allow you to go in there again.”

My eyebrows furrowed in irritation. frustrated by the tone that he was using. I didn’t want an argument to ensue, so I kept my voice levelled as I replied. “And as someone who cares about you, I won’t allow you to tell me what to do when I’m only trying to help you.”

“Well, your way of trying to help me may have gotten you killed.” His voice was slightly raised now, opting to look at the ceiling instead of my eyes.

My gaze, on the other hand, never strayed away from him.

“You did the same thing and you weren’t even trying to help anyone,” I replied, tears clouding my vision as they fell on Newt’s shirt. The bitterness I felt couldn’t be contained anymore.

“Had I succeeded in taking my own life, you wouldn’t have gone in the Maze.” His voice was cold and unwavering.

“Had you succeeded in taking your own life, you would have taken away a piece of mine,” I sniffled, sitting up as I looked straight ahead, refusing to meet his eyes. “I know you’re hurting way more than you let on, and I want to help you, but I can’t do that if you won’t le—”

“I won’t let you because I don’t want you to feel like I’m burdening you—”

I slammed my hand on the bed that we were on as I spoke through gritted teeth. “You don’t get to tell me what to feel!”

Still, I didn’t meet his eyes even though I could feel it burning a hole at the back of my head. More tears threatened to spill as I looked up, trying to keep them at bay. “You would know that if you could just get it into your thick skull that I’m hurting way more than I let on as well because the person I’m in love with just tried to kill himself.”

I choked back a sob as I felt the tears flow down my cheeks, Newt sitting up slowly without a single word. “You’ve been trying to protect me since we became friends, but you know by now that I can handle myself, more so with the knowledge that you’re alright.”

I felt a hand touch my shoulder, as another cupped my cheek.

Then, lips against mine.

After a second of processing what was going on, I closed my eyes and reciprocated the kiss. It was soft, it was genuine and it only lasted for a few moments before he pulled away from me.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his eyes looking into mine as our foreheads touched. “I’m not okay, and I don’t expect to be for a little while. But much like you, I feel better knowing that you’re alright, which is why I was so terrified that I could've lost you to the Maze after not speaking to you for an entire week,” he sniffled.

He pulled away slightly, running his thumb over my cheekbone. His eyes, though brimming with tears, were filled with stars. The emotions held within only made him more beautiful.

“I’m in love with you, too, if you can’t already tell,” he chuckled, sniffling as a few stray tears flowed down his cheeks. “And I promise that I’ll try my bloody best to get better so we can get out of here and I can take you out on a proper date somewhere that’s not surrounded by a deadly, monster-filled Maze,” he grinned, kissing my forehead as he pulled me to him, holding me tightly.

“And I promise not to go into the Maze,” I paused as I felt him sigh in relief. “Unless it’s completely necessary,” I added, hearing a groan from the boy.

“Well, I guess that’s better than nothing,” he chuckled as I felt his hold tighten a little. “Thank God for this broken leg.”

I was about to say something, but he spoke first.

“If I didn’t end up here then I wouldn’t have been able to tell you how I bloody felt.”

“Hey!” I exclaimed. “The only reason you did it was because I did it first!” I laughed. I felt his shoulder shake as he laughed as well, making my smile even wider.

“Damn, I can’t even take credit for finally getting the girl,” he replied. Even though I couldn't see his face, I could hear the smile on his face.

“You don’t have to. You've always had her,” I grinned.

[stanknotstark]

Devil In The Details

I had fun writing this I’m not sure it’s what you really wanted tho...I’m not sure if I’m gonna write the reader part yet tho idk is that something everybody would want? A reader who doesn’t like the sand? Cuz someone gave me an idea for it...*cough my wife *cough* hahaha Idk after reading this tell me if you want a reader part and if so I’ll write it!

Summary: REQUEST. Loki hates the sand and after a nasty prank you decide to exploit this small detail.

“I can’t wait, Loki! You’ll love the beach!” You smile at Loki who gives you a smile back. You don’t miss how his smile is stretched thin. He hides his feelings really well but not from you. You can read him like an open book and while you know it disturbs Loki that you can, you still have pride about it. 

You know Loki is going to hate the beach. You’ve noticed that when he eats he can’t stand having crumbs on his hands and constantly wipes them on his napkin and tries to do everything in order to not eat with his hands. After a particular mission involving Sandman Loki had taken an hour-long shower and wouldn’t let you touch him until you yourself had washed away all the sand as well. He has this small thing about crumbs, or sand, or any small particles, that you plan to exploit. You want revenge.

Loki had pulled a prank the other day and it had involved you. You had been hanging out with Natasha and Wanda when Loki had come up and kissed your cheek. He pulled back, his hands grabbed your hair, and you heard a snip of scissors. You sat there frozen watching Natasha and Wanda’s reaction. They both looked behind you at Loki with wide eyes. 

Loki isn’t stupid. He knows you take a lot of pride in having long, beautiful hair. He couldn’t have missed that when it rains you’re more worried about your hair getting wet than yourself. He couldn’t have missed that you’re constantly running your hands through your hair to make sure it’s perfect at all times.

Loki isn’t stupid.

At least, not often. 

You stand to full height and turn to Loki slowly. You can feel your face fill with fury as you look at Loki who stands there, holding your beautiful locks, with a sly smirk on his stupid lips. 

“Run.” You grind out. Loki is quick to turn and start running and when you start to chase him he actually starts laughing. The gall of this man. “Loki, I’m literally going to kill you!” 

Loki makes a turn and races for the door that leads to the stairs, your lock of hair waving in his hands with furious movement as he runs. “If you catch me!” He throws over his shoulder while laughing.

You both reach the stairwell and Loki runs down the stairs, landing on the common area floor, and he throws the door open with wild strength so it stays open long enough for you to throw yourself into the room behind him. You reach out a hand and grasp his shirt in your fingers but he pulls forwards and the shirt slips from your grasp. 

“Loki!” You yell enraged. He answers with a snicker. 

The dead man running sees Steve and Tony standing close and talking so he pushes in between them. You follow, shoving Steve with a small sorry. Loki runs into the dining room and you both stop running, staring each other down from across the big table. 

“Darling, listen-” Loki starts holding out his hands in a placating way. You growl as you watch your beautiful hair wave in his hands, causing the opposite reaction Loki was going for. He notices what’s going on and magics your hair away. 

“Listen-”

“What’s going on?” Tony asks as he rushes into the room behind you with a concerned look on his face. He probably noticed how your face had murder written on it. 

“I’m going to kill Loki, that’s what’s going on.” You move to the right but Loki moves to the left of the table to keep a good distance from you. 

“If you would listen-”

“What did he do?” Tony asks over Loki’s response. Steve walks into the room and sees the tension. He moves towards Loki. You assume it’s because he’s trying to protect Loki from you. Smart man. 

“He cut my hair.” You growl out, glancing at Tony whose eyes become comically large. 

“Loki, I thought you were smart. That was a stupid move, really stupid, like, I can hear the wind whistling through your ears bud. ” Tony tells the god who rolls his eyes. 

“If any of you would listen to me-” Loki is cut off when you yell and jump the table to slam him to the wall. Steve is quick to grab you around the waist and pull you from Loki. Your strength is no match for a super soldier’s strength. That doesn’t stop you from fighting Steve’s hold though.

“I did not cut your hair!” Loki yells, pushing from the wall and holding his hands out again. 

You look over his face and calm yourself. “Steve, did he cut my hair?” You ask the man holding you, not trusting Loki. Steve still holds you but holds you at arms length so he may examine your hair. 

“Uh, there’s-” He starts but Loki waves his hand at you. “Oh.” Steve exclaims, shocked. You feel one of his hands come to your hair and caress at the locks. “No, your hair is fine.” He finally concludes. 

You close your eyes and take a deep breath through your nose. The tears that come can’t be fought. 

“Darling-” Loki says in a sorrowful voice as he reaches for you. You shake your head, jerking from Loki so he can’t touch you. You pull from Steve’s grip so you may leave and cry in peace. You know it’s just hair and maybe it’s stupid to cry about but you had really felt true fear that he had messed with it. 

It’s a whole day before you let Loki approach you again. By this time you’ve already made plans for revenge.

When you arrive at the beach you don’t miss the grimace Loki gives as he looks at the sand. He wipes it off his face when you fully turn to him though. 

“Find us a spot and I’ll get all of our stuff.” Loki tells you when you both get out of the car. You let him have this small time to mentally prepare himself for the torture you’ve prepared for him. You make your way down to the beach and find an open spot to set up that has an umbrella to protect you both from the sun. Loki is slow-going to make his way towards you. You watch as he really tries to not wince every step he takes in the sand. You kind of hope sand makes its way into his shoes.

He quickly sets two towels down under your picked spot then watches as you undress to your swim suit under your clothes. When you bend over to take your shorts off you hear Loki give a sigh and start undressing. 

Good, you can’t help but think. 

When you’re undressed you glance at the bar nearby. “I’ll go get us some drinks.” You state, grabbing your wallet and leaving Loki. When you reach the bar you order your usual drink and Loki’s favorite when he’s having a rough day, gin and tonic. You order and turn to watch Loki.

Loki stands there under the umbrella glaring at the towel on the ground as if it might actually bite him if he lies on it. You chuckle under your breath. You then watch him shake his head and sit on the towel with hesitance. He sits with his knees drawn up as if trying to minimize how much of his body touches the sand that no doubt got on his towel.

The bartender brings your drinks over and you pay him. You’re quick to come back to Loki and hand him his drink. When he takes a sip he sighs and thanks you in a grateful tone. 

You sit on your towel and give him a smile as you sip on your own drink. “So, I was thinking, have you ever built a sand castle?” You ask with a raised eyebrow at your uncomfortable lover. 

Loki looks over to you with a look of dread that he is quick to hide, just not quick enough for your keen eyes. “No. Isn’t that an activity for children?” He asks, trying to deter your plans passive aggressively. 

You shrug and give an embarrassed smile. “It is...I just-” You cut yourself off to make your acting more dramatic, “Never mind.” You babble out and look away from Loki to the crashing waves and open water. 

You can tell Loki doesn’t take his eyes off of you as he wages war in his mind. 

“Perhaps you could show me how to do it, I’ve never tried.” He tells you with open honesty. 

You look over to Loki with soft eyes. This man was truly in love with you if he’s willing to build a sandcastle with you. It’s nearly enough to make you stop your plan of torture. 

Nearly. 

You nod at him. “After our drinks I’ll show you!” You say in an excited voice, your body slightly jumping in place like an overexcited child. Loki loses his look of distress for a second as he lovingly smiles at you. 

You set your drink aside and lay down on your towel. Your hands come to clasp over your stomach. You don’t outright look at Loki but you watch from your peripheral. He looks at you with apprehension. 

Loki sets his drink near yours between the towels in the sand and looks out towards the water. You hold back a snicker as he closes his eyes and takes a few deep breaths. He slowly lowers himself to lay on his back. He lays there really tense for a few seconds before he forcibly relaxes. 

You get a good idea and smirk to yourself. 

“Sweetheart, you seem tense, do you want a back massage?” You ask Loki who looks at you with wide eyes.

“I-um…” He responds. 

You sit up and tap on his arm, telling him to turn over. Loki follows your prompt and turns onto his stomach. You straddle his hips and run your hands down his back. He shivers, probably because you had let your hands touch the sand before you dragged them down his bare back. 

Without Loki watching you, you let out a wicked smile. 

You work your hands into his built up knots. “What made you so tense?” You ask as you dig into one of the knots and Loki groans. He turns his head to the side so he can partially see you from his peripheral vision. “Probably the fact that I made you cry.” The god lies with ease.

You hum. “You won’t ever touch my hair for a prank again, will you?” 

Loki chuckles. “Never.” 

“Lesson learned then.” You shake your head with a smile. You knead your knuckles into a particularly nasty knot and Loki hisses, his body tenses up, and his hands come to rest on each side of him. His fingers twitch like they want to dig into the ground but he remembers it’s sand. 

When you get that knot worked out Loki relaxes under you again. 

“I truly am sorry, darling. I did not know how much you valued your hair otherwise I would not have done that prank.” Loki apologizes again. He had apologized the second you let him talk to you again after the prank. And again right before you both went to bed too. 

“I know.” 

“Do you? I cannot help but feel as if you do not believe my words.”  

You sigh and get off of Loki and sit on your towel. Loki is quick to sit up again, looking at you. His hands rub across his chest so the sand that was stuck now falls off him.

You grab your drink so your hands have something to do. You look at the sand and think about what you want to say. Loki patiently waits. 

“I know you’re sorry, I know you won’t ever do it again I just-” You let your eyes trail from the sand to the waves. “I’m still hurt about it. I know that’s unreasonable I just...I don’t know, I mean I know it wasn’t anything personal.” You let your feet toe at the towel's edges. When you look over to Loki he is looking at the sand in thought, his fingers fiddle with the drawstrings on his bathing suit. He takes a few seconds before he looks up to your eyes. 

“What may I do to make this up to you?” He asks you with raw seriousness. 

You slightly raise your drink. “Finish your drink so we can make a sandcastle.” 

Loki takes the hint that you don’t want to talk about this subject anymore and picks up his drink. 

“As you wish.” He says, knocking his drink with yours in a small cheer. 

You both finish your drinks in a comfortable silence, watching people run past and children splash in the shallow waves. 

Loki finishes his drink first, you follow not long after. 

“Sun screen!” You say, digging in your beach bag and pulling out a SPF 100 bottle. Loki helps you with your back and you his. You grab the plastic sandcastle bucket from your bag then the both of you are crawling from under the umbrella into the sunlight towards the wet sand.

You hand Loki the bucket mold. “Fill it with the wet sand and compact it.” Loki does as you tell him. You’re impressed when he digs a hand deep into the wet sand and doesn’t even flinch. When he fills the bucket up and compacts it you bring him to the dry sand and he understands what to do. He sets the bucket on the sand and lightly taps at the plastic so the sand will come out without sticking to the bucket. 

You appreciate the view. Loki is on his knees in the sand, he worries over the bucket with a focused look on his face. His chest glistens from the sunscreen he put on and there is a slight blush that crosses his chest under the sunlight. The solid green swim trunks make his pale skin glow. He muscled legs stretching and flexing as he moves around the bucket.

Loki slowly lifts the bucket and a perfect castle sits in the sand. He is quick to smile back at you, satisfied with his work. It’s enough to make you fall deeper in love with the man. 

He quickly stands and comes to your side. “Shall we make it bigger?” He asks you with giddy excitement. You let out a small laugh and nod. 

Loki quickly collects more wet sand and you start searching for seashells to adorn the sandcastle with. 

By the time Loki finishes the castle it is three buckets high. Three castles support two castles, then those two castles support the last one on top. You show Loki all the shells you picked up and both of you chatter excitedly as you decorate the sandcastle. 

You don’t miss that Loki makes sporadic trips to the water so he may wash the sand off of him. He tries to lie about it when you ask and responds that he’s just getting overheated and needs some water on his body to cool him down. If anything, you think it’s probably a half-truth. 

When Loki comes back and you put the final shell on the castle you stand and smile at Loki sheepishly. 

“Loki…” You start. Loki grabs you by the waist and hugs you to him, swaying from side to side. 

“Yes, darling?” 

You pull away but Loki doesn’t drop his hands from your hips just holds you at arm's length with a cute frown. 

“I...Well...Ok, see, I wanted revenge for what you did and now I’m starting to realize I shouldn’t have done this.” You get out in an apologetic voice, a slight wince on your face. 

Loki’s frown lifts to a look of amusement. “You knew I wouldn’t like the sand…” He replies softly. 

You actually cringe at his remark. “Possibly.” You say in a high-pitched voice. 

You gasp with a horrified look on your face because two kids run past and when one throws a handful of sand to the other kid it misses and hits Loki’s back instead. 

You bite your lip when you see sand falling from his hair and face. At least the kids apologize before they’re running off laughing again. You simply watch as the amusement falls from Loki’s face and he closes his eyes. 

“May we leave?” He says in a dangerously calm voice. 

You nod but realize he can’t see it so you blurt out a yes and rush to your spot to pack everything up. Loki is right behind you, making sure to pick up the bucket you had brought, and as you panic he grabs your arm so you look at him. 

“Calm down, sweetheart. I will not die from a little sand.” Loki says in a gentle and calming tone. 

You feel your shoulders relax and take a deep breath. You nod and begin packing the stuff again, this time slower. Loki helps and it takes less than five minutes to begin your trek back to the car. As you pass the showers you bump into Loki’s side and nod at them. Loki looks at you gratefully before he’s handing you the beach bag and rushing over to the shower. You follow him, just slower. When you come to stand at the edge of the shower you watch Loki wash off with a lot of appreciation. 

The water cascades down his back and your mouth goes dry when Loki brings his hands up and through his long black locks, tilting his chin up into the spurting water as he does. When his face isn’t in the direct spray he looks over at you. A smirk crosses his face as he rubs all the sand off his body and watches you watch him. When you catch his eyes you clear your throat and look away. Loki chuckles but doesn’t say anything, thankfully. 

Once he has washed off what he can reach without undressing completely he comes to your side and grabs the beach bag from you once again. You both begin the trek back to the car, Loki dripping wet as he walks beside you. 

“I’m impressed.” Loki states out of nowhere. You look over at him dumbfounded. “I’m impressed because you noticed a small detail about me and exploited it as revenge.” He explains with a small smirk, he doesn’t look at you though, just keeps his face forwards. 

You let out a devious laugh. “I am dating the God of Mischief, gotta keep you on your toes somehow.” 

Loki doesn’t answer you, merely shakes his head as he now genuinely smiles. 

When you reach the car Loki packs everything up as you start the car so it can cool off. Loki doesn’t use one of the towels to dry off probably because they had been on the sand. He gets into the passenger seat, wet. 

“Stark has the money to clean his cars without a second thought. I am not using one of those towels to dry off.” Loki confirms your suspicions when you look at him with an accusatory look. 

You can’t fight the laugh that bubbles out and Loki smiles at you as he puts on his seat belt. You shake your head and focus on backing out of the parking space. 

When you’re on the road back to the tower you let your arm rest on the console. Loki is quick to hold your hand in his. 

“I love you.” Loki exclaims out of nowhere as you sit at a red light. 

“Even after I made you go to the beach as revenge?” You ask as you squeeze his hand. 

Loki squeezes back. “Even more so after that.” 

“Never had a woman stand up to you after your pranks?” You ask. The light turns green so you can’t see Loki’s expression. 

“Never.” 

You hum, glancing over to him, when you can, and you find him smiling a loopy smile as he watches the road. 

“You can prank me, that’s fine, just don’t ever do anything with my hair, please?” You focus on the road as you speak. 

“Of course.” 

“Just know, if you prank me there will be revenge.” 

You can hear the smirk in Loki’s response. “Oh, I was hoping there would be, darling.”

Tag list: @justfangirlthingies @biancablack2474 @creeping156tin @ajeff855 @high-functioning-lokipath @silver-lupines​

[maddieinwonder]

A Lesson In Romance #7: False Start

Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: Just a lot of awkward vibes hahaha

Word Count: 1.7k

Plot: Reader keeps getting caught in rom-com situations with Spencer Reid. This time, they try to confess their feelings.

A/N: I didn’t actually manage to include the definition of a False Start in the chapter itself, so I’ll add it at the end. No spoilers for now!

Masterlist | All chapters here!

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It took you 24 hours to decide that you were going to do something about your feelings for the good doctor. Pretty quick, considering you were a living, breathing rom-com cynic. But as ancient Greek philosopher, Heraclitus, once said: "The only constant in life is change".

Specifically, change happened after you woke up in your cute co-worker and dear friend's arms and you wanted nothing more than to get back into them as fast as possible.

But by the universal laws of working in the BAU, catching a break seemed to be the hardest when you actually wanted one.

Firstly, it was like every serial killer in the country decided to cancel their vacations simultaneously, swamping the team with urgent case after case. At this point, you were more familiar with the couch on the jet than your bed at home, and everyone was feeling the strain.

Secondly, if you weren't sleeping, you were usually out in the field chasing unsubs with Derek or Rossi. You had stopped holding out hope for being paired with Spencer — on account of your areas of specialty overlapping too much, and Hotch not being the type of leader to waste his resources — and as a result:

Thirdly, getting even ten minutes alone with the genius became an impossible task, and not for lack of trying either. At the start of the month, the two of you had tried to adapt your breakfast ritual to the road, but it always got interrupted mid-coffee order or even at the ding of the lift. Not that you and Spencer stopped trying, no, but your patience was wearing thin.

So you did something you hadn't done since you submitted your application to join the BAU — you prayed for a chance.

Because every day that you didn't admit your feelings to the doctor was another day fighting the compulsion to tell somebody else about them, and god only knows what a room full of profilers (and one nosy tech analyst) would do with that kind of information.

Then, out of the blue, the door of opportunity opened.

After two weeks of straight travel, the team had earned a well-deserved one night’s rest in your own beds before dealing with a local case, bright and early tomorrow morning. And since your flight landed at 2am and all the trains had stopped by then, this gave you the perfect shot to execute your plan.

Unfortunately, you forgot to take into account the most important factor — your nerves.

It didn't help that Derek had wolf-whistled in the carpark as the two of you walked off in the same direction, nor that Spencer immediately put your favourite album into the CD player out of instinct; an overly domestic action that made your heart beat even faster.

But it was when you arrived in front of his apartment building that you felt the worst of it. As you tried to summon the right words to your lips, your heart hammered in your chest and your thoughts jumbled themselves into nonsense.

"Are you ok?" Spencer asked, snapping you out of your anxious spiral instantly. "You don't look so well."

"I-I'm fine." Your fingers twitched nervously.

"Doesn't seem like it." He looked down at your hands, and you cursed your subconscious brain for giving you away. Then, he placed a hand over yours and your heart stopped.

"You're not alright, that's for sure, but it seems like it's just sleep deprivation." He assessed, bending slightly to look at your face. "You can't drive in this state. Do you want to come in?”

Your head snapped up to meet his gaze, ready to protest, but Spencer beat you to it. "Let’s go. You wanted to talk about something, right?" He called out, already one foot out of the car.

Before you could realise what was happening, you found yourself sitting on Spencer's couch holding a warm cup of tea.

This was the first time you were in his apartment. Yet, it was exactly what you thought it'd be like. Every wall was lined with bookshelves, filled to max capacity with books of every topic imaginable from neuroscience to philosophy. Those that didn't make it to the shelves were found in random stacks around his apartment, standing out against his forest green walls.

"Did you know that chamomile tea is a natural remedy for insomnia? In fact, it is commonly regarded as a mild tranquilizer. It's calming effects may be attributed to the antioxidant apigenin, which binds to specific receptors in your brain that initiate sleep and reduce anxiety." He explained, walking over with his own mug.

"I actually did know that." You smiled. The tea seemed to work its magic because you did feel relaxed, and you must have looked it too, because the worried frown disappeared off Spencer's face.

"Didn't know you were a tea person." You commented lightly, blowing the steam from your mug.

"There's a lot of things you don't know about me." He replied mysteriously, and you raised your eyebrows.

Spencer's apartment was too quiet, no rumbling fridge or quiet radio playing in the background to make your awkward silence any less pronounced. It was then that you noticed he didn't have a TV. Somehow this fact didn't surprise you very much.

"You... you wanted to talk to me about something?" He broke the silence, looking down at the hot tea swirling in his mug.

Right. You were here to talk about your feelings. Your face flushed as you tried to summon your willpower, again.

"I wanted to tell you something—" You began shakily. "But before that, I just want to preface, we can ignore this entire thing if you don't agree. I mean, I really enjoy our friendship as it is, and I wouldn't want to do anything to affect tha—"

"Wait." Spencer interrupted urgently, before catching himself. "Sorry, um, before that, can I say something?"

"Um, ok, shoot." You replied meekly, trying to hide your relief behind a long sip of tea. There was a pause as he gathered his thoughts, and you might have been seeing things, but he looked almost... nervous? 

"The day we met, I calculated the probability of meeting somebody that shared my exact coffee order and the result was almost one in a million.” He finally spoke, lifting his head to meet your gaze. “That probability decreased when I factored in working together, sharing the same interests, and... and how I enjoyed spending time with you more than with anybody else."

Spencer cleared his throat, a blush coming onto his cheeks.

"Ever since then... my life just started making sense. I know I’m a scientist, not a poet, and I could tell you all the statistics about relationships in the world, but when it comes to you...”

His cheeks were crimson now, as he ran his fingers through his hair. You had a feeling yours looked the same.

"I guess, what I'm trying to say, is that I think you're beautiful and smart, and I have no idea what you see in me, but I'd really—"

Suddenly, both your phones buzzed violently against his coffee table, jolting you out of the moment. You leaned over in a trained motion, only to see exactly what you expected:

Garcia: No rest for the wicked, crime fighters. Conference room in 30.

Penny: No rest for the wicked, crime fighters. Conference room in 30.

You let out a sigh you didn't realise you were holding, and Spencer looked over at you, doe-eyed and nervous.

“The case?" He asked quietly.

There was a silence filled with words unsaid. "We should go." He said finally. "If we leave now, we can still make it on time."

You only nodded in response, more out of duty than desire, and gulped down the rest of your tea. The thought of what he was about to say burned down your throat.

Driving away from Spencer’s apartment was torturous. The doctor hadn’t said anything to you since he entered the car, only fiddling with his bag as he looked out the window. It was too dark to read his expression, but you wondered if he could still hear the way he called you “beautiful”, or whether the moment had already dissolved into the space between you.

Luckily, you didn’t need to wait long for an answer, as Spencer tugged on your sleeve before you exited the carpark, his face scrunched in worry.

"I really didn't mean for that to be so... weird. Can we talk about this again after the case?" He asked softly, and despite every semblance of logic left in your brain, you couldn’t stop the hope from blooming in your chest and you smiled.

That was when Spencer did something completely uncharacteristic. (You didn't know this at the time, but it was something that you would tease him about for a long time after.)

In one fluid movement, the doctor pulled you into a tight hug that elicited a squeak from you, but it only took a second for the initial shock to wear off before you relaxed completely into his warm touch. He took that as a sign to continue, burying his head into your shoulder and letting out a content sigh.

Unlike waking up to your bodies intertwined, nothing about this was a mistake. Not the way his fingers stroked your back peacefully, nor the way his curly hair tickled your cheek. You felt the stress of the past two weeks melt away in his embrace, and so did any coherent thought, except one: normal friends didn't hug each other like this.

Later when the two of you finally entered the conference room, miraculously still on time, nobody commented on the smiles plastered on your faces but everybody could tell. They were profilers after all.

But for the first time in awhile, you were just too happy to care.

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Tag List:

@blue-space-porgs @nobutalsoyes @lady-loves-a-lot @queen-flower @oops-all-ajs @spottedzebrasinpartyhats @agentcarterisgay @totalmess191 @sapphic-prentiss @mellowalieneggsknight || @averyhotchner @amesandpineapples @willowrose99

Definition of a False Start here

[binniesthighs]

call me babydoll | reader x chan

a/n: cuties!! hehe we’re finally getting...a couple things in this chapter that i’ve been wanting to share sooo bad! i added question marks to some of the tags to make it more of a surprise! i love hearing what ya thought of it! hehe <3 

Five 

Pairing: self insert, (?) x female reader x bang chan 

Genre: action, mystery and suspense, fluff, smut and angst 

Tags: (of this part) bodyguard au, secret agent au, royal au, moderndayprince!chan, secretagent!reader, secretagent!jeongin, secretagent!jisung, collegestudent!seungmin, royal!minho, informantandclubowner!changbin (loll thats so long), (?)!felix, skz side characters, adventure and mystery, action and peril, plot driven, running out of time, slow-ish burn, growing feelings, sexual tension, explicit language, mentions of alcoholic drinks and getting drunk, hehe bit of smut/suggestive content (tags omitted for surprise--nothing crazy to tag tho hehe), maknae line are my sons in this fic, binnie in this fic can fkn take me lol 

CWs: sizable shoot out in public club with several people involved, presumed that people die because of this event, lots blood and other wounds such as gunshot wounds, mentions of drugs (both recreational and hard drugs) mentions of weapons such as knives and guns--the whole scene is violent 

Word count: 8.5k 

Parts 

ONE | TWO | THREE | FOUR | FIVE 

“Five years later and I’m still tying your ties, F. Some things never change.” 

Jeongin cracks a smile, simple and cute, much like the man himself even when he has a handgun glued to his hand. 

“It’s still a harder task than some of the stuff that they have us doing. Not gonna lie.” 

You smooth down your partner’s lapels where he’s pinned a small pin of the ticking clock. While others would wear crests, the insignia that bonds you to the younger man is this this small instrument. He’s quiet while he watches you fiddle with his silk blue tie that compliments his snow white hair perfectly. 

“Are you nervous for tonight?” 

Your partner upkeeps his stoic façade the best he can, but tonight there’s something different about him. His silent answer speaks louder than he could ever admit. On the queen sized bed, Seungmin kicks his perfectly shined shoes while flipping through the channels of the TV with a staticky sounding click. Jeongin lightly brushes his hand over the diamond dangling earrings that twinkle as they are supposed to from your ears--likely they’re crystals, not the more expensive jewel. 

“I’m not nervous,” He finally sighs, but there’s a bit of a crack to his voice. “I trust you. And Two. I’m trying to focus on that.” 

“It’ll be fine.” You assure, “White Rabbit must have his own security that would be at his beck and call. If anyone shoots at us, they’re shooting at him. We’re not alone.” 

The young agent nods, then gives a little slap to the college student on the bed. “Get up. We’re leaving. Remember what I showed you?” 

Jeongin draws from the bedside a small handgun. It’s more decorative than protective, but still fires bullets that could save his life. 

“Keep it in your breast pocket. Make sure that no one sees it. We don’t wanna cause a scene.” 

Seungmin’s eyes widen as he feels its weight in his hand. “Got it. I hope I don’t have to use it.” 

“Me too,” You give the youngster a soothing smile. “And remember, don’t tell anyone your name. When you’re in there, your name is S. Better yet, it’s best not to interact with anyone.” 

He nods, then slides it into the thin fabric of his coat. The young man looks considerably more dapper with The Agency’s clothes: a deep purple velvet two piece with silver cufflinks decorated with white roses--another symbol that you’ve grown familiar with. 

The prince saunters up to the bedroom with a slick tap at the opened door. He oozes with regality; not like you expected any less. The royal has dressed himself magnificently without the aid of his help once more: a pure black silk suit with a smart pressed white button up that’s spotless with not one crinkle. The while shirt itself is adorned with two thin silver chains which stretch across his lower torso. At the neck where the shirt meets its last button, there’s a floral brooch: one more more white rose for good measure. 

“Wow!!” Seungmin respectfully bows. “Your Highness, you look--” 

“--I didn’t fuck up the hair, did I?” 

Chan grins as he brings his fingers through his newly colored hair; its much lighter than his dark locks had been before: now a shade of tawny brown. The change to his appearance had come at the request of the palace who suggested that he try to conceal his identity even further as to not arouse suspicion. 

“Handsome as ever, your Highness.” You sneer out the compliment. 

Since the previous night had turned sour, seeing eye to eye with the prince had become harder to do. It was a wild confliction of feelings when you thought more and more of it. With every glance that he would throw in your direction, along with way that he had stared at you all through breakfast, you couldn’t meet him. You felt as if you had borne a wound for him to see, for him to poke at--the secret kind that was best kept to yourself--and he had dug his finger in; he had laughed. 

The prince tilted his head, and you met his eyes for the first time since then. There was a softness about him when you knew that he was inspecting you. You knew you must’ve been overthinking it--and that was what made it so dangerous. 

“Looking stunning as always, Bee. I knew that you would wear that dress well.” 

You let the words, “Thank you,” leave your tongue before toying with the small handbag provided to you. As always, your thigh holster held steady under your dress. 

Four clicks at the suite door sounded, startling nearly everyone in the room, revealing everyone’s nerves which they had denied. 

“That’ll be Lee Minho.” Chan announced. 

Two answered the door in his own costuming. The two men bowed upon meeting, a usual meeting between strangers. The agent lead him to the room, and the royal buttoned his own suit properly. 

“Good evening. It’s a pleasure to meet you all. I’m Lee--” 

“--Minho.” Jeongin dryly cut, “We know who you are.” 

Luckily, you and your partner shared the same apprehension. 

“I’m Fox. You’ve met Bee. The young kid is S, he’s a new agent. The quiet one that let you in is Two.” 

Minho bowed politely with a slight blush. “You weren’t kidding when you said that you were well protected, Your Highness.” 

Chan chuckled in response then clapped the other royal by the back. 

“You look amazing,” Minho said to the prince who shooed him away with a humble hand. 

“You as well.” 

Chan sized up the royal who indeed looked like one. His suit was a simplier charcoal grey with pinstripes with a white undershirt that ruffled at the collar. Not typical of the royals that you knew, he also wore dangling silver earrings that would have never passed the royal standard for professionalism. However, it made sense considering that he had been of a lower rank. 

“Now that we’ve got the formalities out of the way, shall we head out?” Chan put a very obvious hand to the lower back of Lee Minho while checking with the rest of the group. “It’s best not to keep him waiting?” 

Your partner nodded and ushered the group out while giving his body one more pat down to ensure that all concealed weapons were in place. Two checked the assortment of knives tucked discreetly into his own jacket. The man had some kind of wicked and unidentifiable grin while he felt the metal against his fingers. You exited at the rear, feeling a hand tug at your arm. 

“--Bee, I’m sorry about what happened...I’m...I hope that you can understand my motivations as to why I said what I did, it didn’t seem like the right time--” 

“--There will never be a right time.” You tore your arm free. “Your Highness, what happened...that was a mistake on my part. I acted out of line. There will never be a right time because...I’m your guard, and you’re my prince. Do you understand?” 

“But Bee--” 

“--End of discussion,” The words burned in your throat seeing the way that he had looked at you just then, and it was clear that he definitely didn’t understand. 

━━━━━━━━━▲━━━━━━━━━

You had heard that the White Rabbit had been a prideful man--this was now an indisputable fact once you pulled up to the roaring nightclub set into one of the busiest streets on the avenue in Cairo. Everything about the place was showy and bright and outrageous. It was a miracle that the man hadn’t been caught considering that his home base was as obvious as it was. The entire front of the night club shone with the brilliance of a million stars in a hundred different colors. A giant marquee held the signage with the title of the place, “The Tea Party” coupled with the image of the white rabbit himself--the one from the old movie--a stout little thing with his pocket watch swinging from his paw. His neck was wrapped up in a white ruff, and he wore a frock pattered in red hearts. 

A line stretched from the front entrance for as far as you could see, and clubbers swung their bodies in tune to the muffled sound of the EDM music thumping from inside and throwing cigarette butts to the sidewalk. 

“Do we just walk in?” Seungmin hurriedly asked with nervous hands wrapped around his body. 

“We’re expected, so, yes.” You snaked your arm through Jeongin’s to look even less conspicuous. “Just relax,” You commanded the group lowly. 

From the corner of your eye, you saw the prince slug his arm around Lee Minho who appeared to shrink under the other man’s broad shoulders. 

Two large bouncers stood at the entrance with muscles swelling under their shirts stained pink in areas which you assumed to have been white at some point. 

“Names?” One of them grunted rather than spoke. 

From his pocket, your partner took out his very own pocket watch that had been hidden with the rest of your supplies upon arrival to Cairo. On the opposite side of the watch was engraved the two symbols intertwined: the white rabbit and the the white rose. The two men inspected it, nodded, and opened the door for your small entourage. As soon as you entered the booming central room, you could see Seungmin’s shoulders drop as he relaxed. 

“There should be someone meeting us!” Jeongin yelled over the sound of the white noise leading to the bass drop. Hundreds of clubbers danced with the music, throwing their glasses to the air and howling like animals. You wouldn’t have been surprised if at least half of them had been strung out on the very drugs that the man himself had helped peddle. 

The young agent pulled you closer to him as stumbling bodies passed. 

“They could be here. We have to be on our guard.” 

“Let me watch the prince.” 

Jeongin nodded, letting you recede to the back of the group where Two had tailed. His eye wound hadn’t healed nearly enough, so he opted to wear the sunglasses once more. It was likely that word had spread about the four of you escaped twice--his eye was evidence. From behind the group, you watched the way the the prince’s hand fell down hold Lee Minho by the hip, and the way that his fingers dug in there slightly. As much as you had denied it, seeing them close brought back the very covetous thoughts you tried to keep at bay. 

A slender woman with gorgeous tanned skin pushed her way through the crowd and set her eyes on the white head of your partner. Her dress was even thinner than yours, but she wore it as if it was her second skin. The luxurious red color contrasted perfectly with her dark hair and eyes. 

“Are you Fox?” She asked with a thick accent, and cascaded her hand down the young man’s arm. 

“Y-yes. I am.”

“Bun asked me to bring you to him. I know the way.” 

She let her hand fall into Jeongin’s who whipped his head back to you with dry lips that he wetted immediately. You had expected to have been retrieved by someone a bit stockier than this woman. 

“He’s trying to get our guard down.” Two said suddenly as he reached into his pocket to thumb over his stockpile of metal there. “Don’t you think?” 

The woman took your group near to the corner of the room where bodies didn’t linger for long, but were drawn in the mosh pit in the center. Tables lined these edges which were fashioned into booths with red velvet curtains for privacy to do much more sinister things. The room smelled heavily of pure alcohol spilled by drunk hands and of synthetic fabrics made of cheap plastics. A dozen different fragrances mingled into one dizzying mess: each a scent so different and chemical that it was toxic. 

She walked with a swing to her hips, all the way to a booth that was a bit larger than the others--you could only assume that this must’ve been his booth. The woman gestured for you all to enter before drawing the curtain. At the center of the table, the rabbit’s symbol had been burned into the wood. She wore some kind of thin diamond bracelet which she hovered over the image, causing a winding staircase to pop from the carpeted floor down to a hidden chamber. 

“Take the stairs, and it you’ll see it once you get down there.” 

Your partner have her a curt nod in thanks, then lead the group further down. A soft green and red glow emanated from the space below, also humming with a concealed type of music different from that which was played in the club. From here, it nearly sounded like jazz. 

The corridor under the club was bleak and grey with cement, but wooden crates lined it with stamps on the sides in numerous different languages. Your brain could only fathom where the contents had been before they ended up in this basement. It must have been millions of dollars just sitting undisturbed with enough firepower to blow up the whole building and more. 

“Guns. Military grade and a little more improper,” Minho sighed out. “He must have every model in existence here.” 

“Do you think that he has like...missiles?” Seungmin reached for his small handgun. 

“Ease up S.” You tried to contain your own creeping fear, “Those would be too big to keep down here.” 

“Who says that this is his whole stockpile?” Two deadpanned as he cleaned his glasses. 

At the end of the hall, one more bulky guard stood expressionless with a small sized machine gun ready in his hands. He opened the door without saying much else, letting loose the red and green lights you had seen before, and with it, the putrid smell of expensive drink and marijuana. 

The smaller room was only lit by strobes with multicolored gels, and it was dense with the smoke of many number of drugs and vices. There was a small bar with a bartender with bagged eyes and a swath of women in cocktail dresses and men with ties tugged nearly all the way off their necks with lipstick marks pressed into them. 

A single disco ball spun above their heads, spreading shiny squares all across the room. Even more guards waited in the same uniform, but these ones looked more expensive--likely his own personal detail wearing gaudy chains and wrist watches inlaid with diamonds and crested in real gold. 

“My friends! You were able to make it!” 

The man of the hour spread his legs wide on his leather couch set upon a lion’s coat rug, complete with a head and marble eyes and all. At his sides were two more women more unique than the rest: both of them was breathtakingly gorgeous, one of them jeweled like a queen with a thick gold choker that resembled that which old Egyptian royalty would. Her head was smoothed with no hair at all, but instead intricate and beautiful tattoos decorated her like some kind of otherworldly being. The other woman had a cat-like face with two differently colored eyes; one hazel green and the other icy blue contrasting with her fiery orange hair. 

“Carroll told me that you had a bit of trouble before you got here. I’m glad to see that you were able to get here in one piece. It only seems like things are getting more and more...risky these days. Even for people like us.” 

“We’re not “people like you,” Rabbit.” You pushed to the font of the group. 

The club owner himself was dressed in a purely white fur coat which you presumed to be made of real fur. Considering the material, it must’ve been made from the fur of snow foxes--an interesting choice considering your partner’s persona. The smaller man with a thick and muscled form took off his yellow tinted sunglasses to tuck them into his wildly printed shirt that had tiny buttons doing the work of keeping his chest covered. 

“Babydoll! It’s a pleasure to meet you! I’ve heard all about you. Your reputation precedes you.” He took a rather greedy bite to his lip whilst looking you up and down. The white dress must have been doing it’s job well. 

“Babydoll?” Chan asked with furrowed brows. “What is--who is--?” 

“As does your reputation, Rabbit. I wouldn’t have expected less.” 

The proud man snorted, “I hope this doesn’t mean that you’ve got any...preconceived notions about my lifestyle. Our dear friend Carroll doesn’t seem to.” 

“Of course not.” 

“And you...you must be the Prince of Bulgeun! His Royal Highness Prince Chan of the Crown!” The White Rabbit spread out his arms wide in welcome. “I don’t often get royalty in my club--lots of celebrities and the like.” He leaned over to one of his guards, speaking in Egyptian Arabic and asking for drinks for the group. 

“Yes. It’s a pleasure to meet your acquaintance.” Chan bowed deep. 

“So respectful!” The White Rabbit chuckled, “You can all call me Bun. We’re all friends here. And you...who might you be?” Bun pointed a finger at Minho who stepped forward. 

“Baron Lee Minho, of Bulgeun as well.” 

“Ah! And a Baron too! How did I get so lucky to have such honorable company?” Cat-face ticked her long nails against the club owner’s hand slung around her. 

“You know what we’re here for, Rabbit. There’s no need for theatrics.” Jeongin huffed his words out with a confident breath. 

“You’re the one that they call Fox? Rumor has it that you and Carroll have a rather...special...connection?” 

The bartender arrived with drinks, each of them looking expensive with flecks of gold leaf floating on the surface of the clear liquid. Seungmin shot an apprehensive glare once the glasses were left on a small side table. As had been discussed previously, none of your group had picked up a glass. 

The woman with beautiful tattoos stretched a hand down one of the White Rabbit’s thighs, reaching dangerously high between them; just enough to make you flinch from the forward action. 

“Baby, I see that you’re playing a dangerous game towing this Price around, so of course I’m willing to help a friend of my friend. You’re lucky that I’ve got just the intel that you need. Some people just don’t know how to shut their mouths, especially when the get a taste of what I’m selling.” 

“Oh? And what have you been hearing?” 

You eyed a leather chair across from him seeing an opportunity. 

“Your Highness.” You motioned for Chan to sit in the chair next to yours, swinging your legs crossed to peek from the thin white silk in full view for the Rabbit to see. After, you dipped your chin into your palm, just for the purpose of letting the front of your dress fall slightly. The prince remained quiet while taking his seat and spreading his legs out strongly. 

“If it’s compensation that you need Rabbit, the Crown is also willing to make offers for added...persuasion.” 

Chan crossed his fingers in his lap leaning forward. His words were slick and domineering--kingly even. 

“Is that so?” The White Rabbit tugged at his lip with his teeth, “I wasn’t aware.” 

“Double what The Agency is offering. If I like what you say.” 

The club owner scoffed with a grin, “Oh, you’ll like what I say.” Cat-face lifted his drink to his lips, then wiped off the excess off with her finger. Both of the body guards appeared to tense before he spoke and tried to be inconspicuous while they reached for their decorated pieces resting in their waistbands. 

“Hell, I’ll even tell you what they call themselves.” 

In your impatience, you leaned forward, “Who are they?” 

“They’re called The Spades. Some kind of new crime syndicate that’s been fucking up my business and making bargains with my customers. Of course, as you know...I work in a very lucrative business.” 

“Naturally.” 

“They’ve been stockpiling shit like crazy: all kinds of weapons, any kind that you can think of outside of fucking nukes. They’ve even tapped into drugs as well to make extra on the side. I don’t know what it is that they’re doing that makes them so appealing, but suddenly I’m missing out on millions because of those fuckers. They’ve got someone masterminding it all too--some crazed bastard. I’ve been trying to find him ever since they popped up.” He resumed his grasp on both of his women who cuddled into him. 

“Mastermind? The one who’s running the whole operation? You know him?” Both you and your partner locked eyes quick enough for the other man to not take notice. 

“No, one of his cronies. He runs the business. He’s illusive and fucking insane. Someone whispered once that he’s psychotic or something like that. You think that I’m bad...” 

“Who?? Who is he? Where can we find him?” 

“Slow your role there doll, I’m just getting to the good part.” The Rabbit nodded for another sip of his drink. “He’s got several names depending on who you’re talking to. Fucking funnily enough, I’ve heard that he goes by “Hatter,” or more commonly “Joker.” He deals in anything: arms, drugs, sex...and he works for The King.” 

“The King?” Chan butted in with the mention of a royal name. 

“Not your silly little king, prince. The King. The one who runs it all. He tells The Spades what to do. They’re everywhere, taking over every sector in every nation. They’re trying to dismantle it all--every political system, monarchy, presidency...everything. It looks like they’re starting with you, prince. The Spades preach about chaos. Every man for himself...but it’s a lie. Why the hell else would they be stockpiling? They’re trying to take it all over.” 

Seungmin gulped audibly as he sunk to the back of the group. 

“When there’s no more control the ones with the most resources always end up on top.” The young student whispered. 

“This King, do you know who he is?” Jeongin spoke over Seungmin to detract attention from him. 

“Nope.” The White Rabbit swung his legs up on the small coffee table with alligator leather shoes. “I’ve been a little focused on taking down the Joker at the moment, for your information.” 

“What’s your intel on him then? He must know how to get to The King.” Minho pushed to the front of the group right to Chan’s side. “We’re not satisfied with your information yet.” 

The Baron’s sudden demand surprised you: he had been timid before--so you had thought. 

The club owner looked to Chan, keeper of his “persuasion” who nodded to prompt him for more. 

“He’s on some island off Greece. Private. Tight security, the kind that could shoot you out of the sky.” 

“Impressive.” You tutted, feigning confidence once more. “What more do you know?” 

The woman with the bangled necklace whispered something in his ear once peeking at a small old-model cellphone in her hand, brushing her lips over his earlobe. Over the sound system, the jazz music turned sultry, and both women moved to join the other intoxicated clubbers in the back to sway around brass poles. 

“There’s the freckled bastard. He’s the grunt--and the one that’s been chasing you I think. Real nuisance isn’t he? He’s the Knave. Had a few run ins with him myself.” 

You thought back to the gas station and the black SUVs. Between all the shards of glass, it had been hard to make anyone out, but you had figured that he had must’ve been one of the men throwing their bodies out of the windows to shoot. 

The Rabbit chuckled out with some kind of hand signal to his guards. “Knowing him, he could be right outside my door for that matter.” 

Jeongin’s eyes flew open, sending you “the look.” Your time was running out. Judging by the way that you hadn’t noticed that the Rabbit’s women had cleared out the other clubbers from the room, they must’ve known something that you didn’t. The club owner stood up with a languid stretch and cracked his knuckles. 

“We probably don’t have much more time before they come in here guns blazing. Best protect your prince, hm?” 

“Rabbit! You must know something about The King?!” You crossed the room to grab at his frim and fuzzy arm. 

He slyly smiled, amused by your grip, “Like I said doll, no one knows much about him. Your Baron has got it right. Start with the Joker. But...” His grin cracked even wider, “Good luck.” 

Seungmin tugged at Two’s dress coat as the two bulky bodyguards took The Rabbit by the arms to escort him. 

“What's going on??” The young man’s voice cracked with urgency. 

“Ready that gun of yours.” Two said lowly with gritted teeth. 

He strode across the room with his fur coat lazily swaying, then raised the golden rings on his fingers to the air as he exited. He threw his yellow tinted glasses back on, before turning back to your stunned group. 

“I estimate that you’ve got...three minutes? --Oh! And one more thing!” 

The white fabric of your dress swept to the side, revealing your thigh holster which you grabbed at quickly. 

“What?!” 

“Every King’s got his Queen? Does he not?” 

The enigmatic club owner slipped into the shadows of his private room, leaving your group with the sound of clambering feet on the floor above, followed by muffled gunshots. 

“They’re here?” Seungmin readied his small handgun as he was told and looked to the ceiling where the lights flickered from the commotion. “They found us?” 

Two twirled two knives in his hands with a silvery glint. Both of the blades were a bit on the shorter side, but you were certain that he knew how to use them. “They’re always following us.” 

“We need to get out of here.” Lee Minho drew out his own gun concealed by his suit. It was custom with a pearl handle. You had seconds to make out the insignia, but you could make out the shape of what looked like a red rose. “The place must be crawling with them. We need to find the exit.” 

Your partner nodded while taking his own gun. “Stay close, Your Highness. Follow me.”

“Bee?” The prince called your name with a worried cross between his brows. “Give me a gun. Hand-to-hand is nothing against these guys. I’ll stay close. I promise.” 

While he held your eyes earnestly, the way that his chest heaved up and down told you something much different. 

“You can handle it?”

“I can.” 

Jeongin passed him a Glock from the holster strapped behind his shoulders. 

You made your way back through halls lit by hissing fluorescent lights with a white burn to them. The crates of weaponry stretched on and on, adding to your unease knowing what could happen if a bullet were to be fired in this hallway. Thick rats skittered in the dank edges of the hall and weaved between boxes labeled in Spanish. 

“Drugs.” Minho gripped his gun tighter. “From the looks of it, cocaine.” 

Above your heads, a giant boom resounded and dust with drywall fell from the lights that flickered harder. 

“Its a fucking maze down here.” Jeongin tapped at his watch in an attempt to find a schematic of the place. 

The college student wetted his lips. “At least we’re not up there with them.” 

“At least the lead worked out. We know more about these...Spades than we did before. It’s a start.” You tailed the back of the group with careful footsteps and the click of your heels against the cement flooring. 

Another resounding boom echoed followed by the shrill screams of clubbers above. It sounded hellish--you could hear the raw fear in their voices. The music thudded on, likely abandoned by someone running for their life. The Prince’s knuckles turned white holding onto his piece of metal near the front of the group. 

“F, you know the way up?” 

“I-I think. We should be approaching some stairs soon, but there’s nottelling who will be on the other side.” 

Two tore off his sunglasses and shoved them into his breast pocket. “We’ll be damn lucky if they haven’t found the hotel yet. If not, we’ve got to run.” 

“My laptop??” Seungmin whimpered. 

“That damn Chromebook? Don’t worry about it, your life is more important.” Jeongin scoffed. “The Agency can set you up with something even better.” 

“I can’t believe that at a time like this all I can think about is my stupid computer.” The young man shook the thought out of his head. 

“Stairs up ahead.” Jeongin pointed. “Get ready.” 

“Chan?” You pulled at the prince’s trim to his coat. 

“I’m fine Bee. Honestly. I trust you.” He attempted a smile. The same smile, that damned charming one that couldn’t get out of your head. 

Minho looked back to the prince too with worry, it had been the most sincere motion that you had seen him do as of yet. He reached out to squeeze the royal’s shoulder with a soft smile. 

“Don’t go dying on us Your Highness. Think about what that would mean for the kingdom?” He chuckled. 

“I’ll try my best,” The prince returned the gesture. 

Jeongin reached for the metal door handle to the teal green door cracking with paint. The sound of machine guns had grown even louder, followed by the sound of the shells hitting the wooden dance floor. The air was thin where it crept under the door and carried with it the horrid smell of smoking guns and spilled alcohol. 

“Two, Bee, form rank around the group, I’ll lead.” 

Two nodded, popping gum into his mouth and blowing large electric blue bubble. “Can do.” Both of his hands tightened around his blades.  

“One...Two...Three!” 

Time slowed the second that the door opened, and your ears rang with the deathly silence. Bodies to the left and right of you became a blur and they fell to the floor in the silence with their limbs twitching until they didn’t move at all. White collars turned red, as did the white tablecloths of the standing tables. The strobes pranced around the room in a multicolored shower that was as blinding and stained your eyes. 

The men in black suits and leather gloves scattered around the room with their red crests glinting. They shouted commands at eachother, but to you, all you could see was the way that their lips curved and cracked. In front of you, your partner leads with a hand gesture that you had memorized from training, and all of your focus was drawn the the back of the group. The trigger of your gun was cold on your finger: you pulled and pulled not even pausing to feel the way that it fought back against your wrist. The men were sprinting with their own guns tight in their hands, but each of them fell before they could get close. 

Two’s mouth was in a flat line as he threw tiny blades from his hands to the chests of men running across the balconies and hiding from behind tables. He appeared to have an infinite amount in his coat and saved the longer and more lethal ones for close connections, subsequently dipping his own fingers in red. 

The young college student trudged on in the center of the group with his head tucked firmly between his two shoulders. Clear streams of tears fell down his eyes, but he wiped at them furiously between each shot that he took with his small handgun. Next to him, the two royals kept their own heads low aiming shots around them to backup you and your partners. 

Their footsteps came echoing behind you, and you walked backwards, taking aim with one eye squinted, while barking out commands from your mouth that you barely even understood. Your heartbeat bumped in your chest nearly in tune with the thudding 808′s of the music that reverberated in your ears. Each of the Spades moved as if they were shadows over the bodies of the fallen, leaping and jumping, nearly floating over dining tables and sweeping off the glassware and silverware with them as they did so. 

“BEE, I’M ALMOST OUT!” Jeongin screamed to you nearly before reaching the front revolving doors. 

Two tossed another magazine in the young agent’s direction, then threw another dagger with startling accuracy. 

For seconds at a time you could see how Minho’s eyes had narrowed with his aim, and he too met every target exactly where he wanted. You figured that the royal must have trained himself well to have that kind of precision. The way that he appeared perfectly calm was startling: his dark eyes squinted and he turned his body swiftly with little effort. 

“Fuck--I’M OUT OF ROUNDS!” The prince bellowed before ducking under Minho’s arm which immediately swung over him. 

You closed in closer to the group, using your body as a shield for the prince’s back. 

Your partner cast aside fallen chairs and tables in his wake, as one of the thugs charged at him. In response, he threw his gun into his waistband, opting to slung the man with a hurried uppercut that sent him spitting blood to the floor before falling, “We’re almost there! Keep pushing!!” 

“SHIT!!!” Seungmin groaned out before dropping his small gun to the ground, he trembled with his leg dragging behind him, then soon his pants soaked with a dark stain to his slacks. 

“BEE LOOK OUT!!” A voice screamed, seconds before you could register it.

Your head whipped back to the chaos of the club, seeing the “freckled bastard” himself point his decorated riffle at you point blank with a wicked grin on his face. He looked purely evil. There was something about the way that his ears poked, or how his eyes upturned that made him look devilish when his pearly white teeth peeked once he took his shot. He had ashy blonde hair that had strung with sweat over his forehead, and blood wetted the tip of his dress shoes. He cocked his head to the side, as he did too with his gun before the deafening shot cracked through the room. 

You were shocked trying to memorize his face, and frozen in your fear from the barrel of the gun facing you right between the eyes. 

An excruciatingly tight grasp at your arm pulled you to the side before you could react, throwing you to the hardwood floors before whoever it was pulled themselves in front of the bullet. Your vision was rocked when you hit the floor, missing the glass revolving door by centimeters. 

“Y/N!” Your partner screamed, waking you from your haze as the room started to piece back together. “You good?!” 

Another hand grabbed you to your feet before shoving you through the door, lightly slinging your arm around his shoulder before taking your gun from your trembling hand to take a few more shots. You realized it was Two this close, and tiny flecks of red splattered at his neck. 

“Fuck--give me that--” You grabbed the gun from his hand to fire every bullet that was left at the freckled bastard until you couldn’t any more, and the cool of the evening stung at your heaving lungs once your group reached the sidewalk. 

Outside of the venue, clubbers scrambled and ran the streets still shrieking in their fear and tripping over their heeled shoes. 

“Chan?? Chan--where-where’s the prince??” The words spilled from your lips in your pure adrenaline. 

Right behind you only a couple paces away, the prince stood pale with Seungmin holding between them a groaning and gasping Minho who barely held on to the two men. A bullet wound soaked his black suit jacket, and the red crept up to his white frilled collar.” The wound made a hole right in his shoulder with a visible circle. 

Jeongin sprinted to the back of the group looking disheveled himself with sleeves hastily pulled up to his elbows. “Shit--shit!!” 

“S-move aside. MOVE!” You commanded the whimpering young man who gave you Minho’s other arm. You wrapped around his wasit and dragged the heavy weight of the man who had just saved your life. 

The prince dryly smacked his lips then scanned the street for more of the Spades in his daze. 

“Y-you okay?” The words dried up your tongue. 

“Yeah...yeah, I’m fine, are you?” His energy had been drained of him, and his knuckles were also cracked, likely from having to throw punches that you haven’t even seen him take. 

Gunshots echoed further down the street followed by the screeching of wheels and more panicked yells. The chirps of cop cars pulled up to the scene and their husky demands rounded up the escapees in rapid-fire Arabic. 

Jeongin sprinted back with his white hair bouncing to a taxi nearest an intersection. He threw the door open apologizing profusely the best he could before pulling the driver out of the driver’s seat and to the cement. He cursed out loudly in response to which Jeongin tossed out some bills haphazardly to his chest. 

“Get in, GET IN!” He called to your group while tapping on the metal side of the vehicle. 

Both you and the pricne guided the injured royal in to the backseat between you. 

“Minho--Minho, hold on--” Your nervous hands held his pale face in your palms. 

The tear of your dress filled the small compartment, prompting the prince to snatch his hand into the other man’s firmly. 

“Minho--you fucking dumb asshole--you had to go and he the hero didn’t you?” Chan smiled hopefully. 

“Ar-are you alright?” He coughed, “Your Highness?” 

“Shut up.” Chan ruffled his hair with another adoring smile. “It’ll be okay. You’ll be okay.” 

Although it was silk, you used every inch of your dress tear to tie around the baron’s shoulder tightly in an attempt to add pressure to the open wound. 

“Bee--” Minho started with a lazy glare. 

“--Keep talking Minho, look at me. You’re gonna feel sleepy, stay awake. You did great, thank you so much for doing that to me. Thank you.” You grabbed his opposite hand firmly. “I can’t thank you enough.” 

Lee Minho laughed. “Don’t mention it. And--if you wanted me to keep talking...I wanted to tell you that you’re really stunning Bee. How you handled all th-that. I was really impressed.” 

“Hm, I was impressed too.” In his own way, like this, bloodied and a bit delirious, Lee Minho really was as handsome as he let on. 

The taxi car whipped around another corner with wind whipping in the windows and each of your masses jostled in the car as if bumped over the curb. The hotel wasn’t that far from The Tea Party, and you knew that any moment you would reach it, but each second stretched longer and longer. 

“Fox?! We’re not there?” 

“Fuck--Bee, the whole city is crawling with cops, everywhere I turn, they’re on the hunt, The Spades are everywhere I can’t make it back--no doubt they’re already there...” 

In the front seat, Seungmin clung to Two as if his life depended on it as his whole body shook and Two tore his own jacket sleeve to close off the young man’s wound on his leg. 

“Wha-what are we going to do?? S-shit!! Ouch!!!” The young student gritted his teeth in his pain while his leg shook terribly. He sobbed, “It hurts, really, really bad!!” 

“I planned for this.” Jeongin’s eyes flicked in the review mirror to you in the back. “I asked Carroll to set up for us a secondary place if something went down and we couldn’t make it to the hotel. I figured...if anything happened or if they found us--” 

“--Get us there, fucking drive Fox, Minho needs first aid, right fucking now, he’s bleeding too fucking much.” 

“I know, I know!!” 

“How far is it?!” 

“Not far, I promise, twenty minutes--tops.” 

“Make it ten!!!” 

Jeongin floored it, running lights and becoming a stream under the skyscrapers of Cairo. From the small skylight of the taxi, thin clouds streaked in the evening sky and mixed with the glow of the city. Far, far, above your head, you prayed for the first time in years that you could make it in time. 

Seungmin sobbed with puffy eyes from the front seat and writhed, “Hurry! Hurry!” He begged. 

Minho’s head lulled in the backseat as he bled though the white silk binding him. His head bounced back and forth from you to the prince with glossy marbles for eyes that blinked slowly. The prince rested his hand on the baron’s thigh and rubbed calming little circles into it. 

“Minho, you did so well. Look at me.” Chan coaxed, causing the other to smile adorably grim. 

Minho twitched before rolling his head over to the prince. “Your Highness, i-if I may be so bold...I-I’ve got...I’m crush on you.” He finished his sentence with a wrinkled smile. 

You scoffed out with a laugh while making knowing eye contact with the prince who laughed out lightly too. 

“He sounds like someone I know.” You winked at the royal. 

The taxi made one final turn to an alley filled with potholes that jostled each wheel of the car. 

“This is it! Right here!” The young agent whipped into a one car garage hidden into the alley. The darkness of the garage filled the car, and snuffed out all of the light from the street, and even muffled the faint sirens of police as they whizzed past. The night was still full of gunshots, but at least now they sounded far enough away to be safe. 

━━━━━━━━━▲━━━━━━━━━

The safe house was a modest two floored apartment outfitted with the normal security system of The Agency: window locks and cameras in every corner of every room. As expected, each of the rooms was covered in a fine layer of dust, and the old smell hung with flecks of the material stuck on lampshades and wafting in the light. 

Work had been delegated between you and your partners, with the two other men helping treat Seungmin in the second bedroom out of three while you and the prince aided Minho.  

The windows were left open to let in some fresh air, also letting in the faint sounds of the city which still surged with life even late into the night. Still, the smell of the desert came floating into the room with a welcome sense of tranquility. 

The royal lay on the bed with cracked pale lips while you set to work dabbing at his wound gently with gauze, cleaning the area around the bullet wound. Fearful to cause more bleeding, the bullet would stay where it was for a few moments more for another layer of wrapping. The prince remained quiet, passing you materials as needed with hands stained pink from the other man’s blood. 

“How are you feeling?” Chan quietly asked. 

“Hurts like a bitch,” Minho smiled, “You ever been shot before?” 

The prince shook his head. 

“Well, I hope that you never are. Feels like your whole body gets stirred up from the impact and then there’s the sting.” 

Carefully you pulled back the remains of the baron’s shirt while lifting him slightly off the bed. As you swept the fabric from behind him, you noticed the thin red line tracing around his shoulder bade which you figured to be blood at first. 

“What...what’s this?” 

“Oh,” Minho shied, “It’s a tattoo.” 

“You’ve got a tattoo? For a royal?” Chan slicked back Minho’s sweaty locks. “You really are full of surprises.” 

Gently you laid the baron back down to lay with his new wrappings. “What is it?”

He paused, wetting his lips quickly before he spoke. “It’s a red rose. It’s a bit large--I know--not typical for royals. Don’t worry, you’re the only royal that knows that I have it.” 

“Why a red rose?”

 Below you, Minho looked relaxed and calm, beautiful even like this bare-chested under the single lamp-light of the bedroom. 

“Well...you know the significance of symbols and insignias. We’ve all got our own.” He grinned out while playing with the prince’s free hand. 

“I’ve got my white rose, Bee’s got her clock: seems like we’ve all got our own thing.” Chan agreed, watching the way that his fingers interlocked with the other man’s. 

In the opposite bedroom, Seungmin cried out sharply to the tune of Jeongin chuckling out, “I’ve got you, you fucker!” The clink of metal fell into the little bowl they used: the bullet was out of the poor boy. 

You sighed knowing that the damage caused to your group could’ve been much worse, yet you had made a skillful escape. Still, the thought of the bodies littering the floor...the silence that rang in your ears from the pace of it all and how the energy of survival started to wear off...it was truly gruesome. 

“Minho--really, I appreciate you taking a hit for me like that. No one has ever done something like that for me...and you barely know me...” 

The baron smiled, taking your hand in his too. “Like I said, it’s fine. Had I not, you wouldn’t have been able to help us out of there...even if you were dragging my ass for the tail end of it.” 

The breeze flew in with the dusty curtains; just cold enough to make you shiver in your thin dress. 

The prince looked to the both of you, “What happens now?” 

Chan himself was a proper mess: he no longer looked like the perfect vision of regality from the earlier evening. He looked like a man, a regular man, scared, unsure, and confused. His knuckles were cracked...and you had promised that you had never wanted to see him harmed again. 

The prince’s eyes softened, softer than they had been, soft like they had been the evening before when you had broken. 

“We survive. The best we can. We recuperate for a couple days, and ask Carroll what the next steps are. I’d guess it would be Greece then.” 

Minho leaned up with a little grunt to face you. “I’m coming with. I can help. I can be valuable if you need another set of hands on a gun.” 

“I think you mean hand. Your arm is gonna be out of commission for a little while.” 

He smirked, “Still...” 

The sweeping red outline of rose peeked to his shoulder, and you wondered how far it really spread. 

“Bee, I don’t think that I’ve thanked you.” Chan let the words fill earnestly, throwing that same damned smile at you. 

“Chan...you don’t have to thank me. You’re my prince.” 

The royal nodded with a contented little grin that tugged a dimple on the side of his face. You found both men looking at you as such, as if they were waiting, or anticipating the unsaid as you were. 

Somehow, the room turned silent once more: a void quiet enough to hear your heart beating in your ears. 

You bridged the gap, pulling Chan close to you as you pressed your lips against his, using your stained hand to pull his lapel into your body while he melted perfectly into you as he had done before. His mouth tasted slightly like the salt of blood, but that was of no matter to how sweet he was when he gently let himself unfold for you, gasping lightly against you. Chan’s hand reached to your arm to caress the goosebumped skin down, giving you another reason to shiver. You found your own hand tie into his light brown locks and pull deeply at the roots with depths of curiosity and want. Your tongue gently explored his lower lip before teasing right into his mouth which was even warmer than you had imagined it being. 

Your other hand found the torso of Minho: bare and quivering under the touch of your fingertips which traced each muscle there. He let out a drawn out sigh, then drew his own hand down the curve of your body to your hip, finally working it back up over your belly to your breasts thinly protected by the dress. He sat up higher and brought his lips to the fabric, kissing right into your belly with the warmth of his mouth. He paused, giving you moments to crave that same feeling on your lips and prompting you to bow down and indulge yourself in the taste of his mouth too. 

Chan’s hungry hands came tip-toeing over your back as he watched, and slipped one finger under your thin dress strap to pull it down and press kisses to your shoulder. With his other hand, he let it fall down Minho’s back: over the red rose, right to his thigh which he squeezed at firmly: right between the heat of his legs. 

Minho was different from Chan: rougher with his advances, but still addictive in how he would test the corners of your mouth with each kiss more courageous than the last. He ruffled up your torn dress, then let the silk fill up his hands before pulling it in ways to meet your skin with his. Slowly, Chan did the same, edging a hand up to your ass from the frayed bottom of the once-gorgeous dress. 

The bed was just big enough for two, but with this new interlocking of limbs as close as possible, you melded into one. Both you and Chan crept over the man between you, painting the blank canvas of his chest with seething hot lips and biting at the flesh of his skin lightly. Minho’s back arched from the beautiful sensation, causing him to giggle in his euphoria. 

In the middle, you found Chan once more, and held him close, as close as you had wanted for longer than you had admitted. 

“Oh Bee...” He moans into your mouth while releasing all of his glee onto your tongue. 

“Chan, I’m not scared anymore. I don’t even care.” 

The prince shuddered at the thought, and held you back just as tight finding the corners of your dress to pull over your head. 

“Oh my god,” Minho adores you, then reaches out to pull you to his chest. 

This mysterious man, melts for you too, whimpering perfectly between your lips.  Your legs find their way around his thigh to grind at lightly. There's an innocence to his eyes, much like that of the prince: its a kind of blind adoration that you know all too well. His dedication to Chan, and his gesture to you: the thick bandages around his arm: you find your apprehension slipping to nothing. 

Your fingers loop around the white lace of your panties as you kneel above both men, and you swipe your thumb over both of their glistening and trembling lips. 

“Well boys, how about I’ll make both of you mine tonight?” 

~🌹~

Bunch of (Ro)ses! 

@minaamhh @dazzlehoseok @synnocence @jjewibeans @hyunsluvv @unexceptional-h @bobawithchaitea @lechanters @sailorhyunjinz @silencefavarchive @lunarskzzz  @yourdaddychan @bubblelixie @spnobsessedmemes @cherrychngkyn @bowlofblueberries @lmhmins @eunaeiekim

[eirikaanemo]

The Candy House

Venti x GN!Reader

3k Words

Warnings: eviction, manipulation, servitude, minor character 'death', temporary blindness, kiss at the end

Notes: This is NOT incest. You and Venti are strangers and are not related at all.

Getting lost in the enchanted forest was easy. The fog covering the ground, the trees blocking out the light, and the original path taking so many twists and turns made sure of that. From the chill sinking into your bones you can tell that it’s getting late. Fear settles into your heart. Who knows what lurks in these woods? All you know is that of all those who have entered these woods, no one has ever come back out.

The rumors all tell of monsters and creatures roaming in the night, devouring any unfortunate creature they may find. You can only hope that they are wrong. Perhaps if you find some sort of shelter you can be hidden and make it through the night. Unfortunately you have not been able to find any sort of shelter, anything would do at this point. And yet it’s nowhere to be found and all that’s left to do is keep searching.

Then you see a light in the distance, illuminating the silhouette of a house. Speeding up, you change course to move towards it. The closer you get, the more details you are able to make out through the fog and the dark. And the closer you are, the odder it looks. It doesn’t seem to be made of brick or wood, or any other sort of building material you have seen.

As you get even closer you find that it’s kind of made of bricks, if giant chocolate covered raisins count as bricks and dried icing counts as mortar. The windows tint the light different colors as the light passes through the semi-transparent hard candy. The front door is made of chocolate and has a gumdrop handle. The roof is made of wafer shingles held together by layers of caramel. It looks delicious.

When you approach the door it opens to reveal an old woman. Her eyes are white and unseeing but hold an unsettling glint, though her smile assures you that you are welcome. “Oh you poor dear,” she says mournfully. “Out lost in the woods at night! You must be cold. Come in, come in and stay the night. Dinner is ready and I would love to have some company. Please do come and join me!”

The thought of food makes your stomach rumble. You haven’t eaten anything all day. This is like a dream come true, too wonderful to be real, and yet it is. “I would be happy to,” you tell her and follow her inside. Just like the outside of the house, everything is made of candy. Everything but dinner, that is, thankfully. The food is absolutely delicious and you enjoy every bite.

After you help clean up the dishes she leads you to the next room over. It’s small with meager furnishings which include a comfortable looking cot. “I’m sorry, I know it’s not much,” she apologizes. “Being out here in the woods means I so rarely get visitors.”

“It’s fine,” you reassure her. “This is much better than trying to find shelter out in the woods.” She nods her head emphatically. “Oh heavens yes,” she agrees. “You wouldn’t even survive a night out there! The locals aren’t fond of strangers wandering around their forest.” The thought causes a shiver to run down your spine as she wishes you goodnight and leaves you to your thoughts.

Sleep comes easily that night but the morning is much too early. You’re shaken awake by the old lady, more harshly than you would expect from what she was like the night before. When you open your eyes, sit up, and turn to look at her she even looks different from yesterday. Gone are the sweet, soft features of an old lady and instead are the haggard, worn, and wicked features of a dark witch.

“By partaking of my food and generosity, you have sold yourself into my service.” The witch informed you. “Now get out of bed, you have chores to do and have slept in far too late.” Your eyes go wide as you remember the basic rules you’ve always been taught for dealing with the magical. Do not eat. Do not sleep. Do not accept favors. Three of many, and you had broken them. She is right, and you have no one to blame but yourself.

For breakfast you are fed bread crusts and water. Then you start on your chores. Most of them are normal things: sweep the house, do the dishes, and dust dusty surfaces for example. Oddly enough, she prepares meals despite it being one of the more risky tds for her. Then again she does have a lot of experience so there might not be as much risk as you might originally think. And apparently she doesn’t usually eat either.

There are also a couple odd chores. The most odd one being: feed and fatten up ‘[her] next meal’. When you ask her how to complete that task she mutters about how she knew she was forgetting something and releases a spell hiding a large hanging birdcage in the corner of the room. A birdcage with someone in it. There is a pile of bones beneath the cage. Human bones. You’re sick to your stomach.

At some point the witch must have left, leaving just you and them in the room. As if sensing that she’d left, the figure cracks an eye open, sits up, and stretches, then sends you a bitter smile. “I guess we’re both stuck here,” they say. A he, you judge by the sound of his voice. “Yeah,” you mutter, equally bitterly. “Tricked me with dinner and a place to stay when I really should have known better. And I didn’t even realize how badly I messed up until this morning.”

He sighs. “I tried to warn you, but she put up a spell to hide me before she went to bring you in.” He sounds so defeated. You shrug. “Thank you for trying. Don’t blame yourself though. This really is my own fault. How did she catch you?”

“Much the same as you,” he admitted. “I was searching for a treasure I had lost and found out she had it, which was true. So I came to try and get it from her but she tricked me into eating and trapped me here. Now she’s just waiting until I’m fat enough to eat it appears. I guess we’re stuck here together for now. And after she eats me, you’re probably next if allowed.”

The two of you are silent for a minute as you ponder your imminent demise and his rhymes. “Well I feel kind of bad now that I know, but I’m supposed to give you this. It’s one of my chores so I have to do it.” You hand him his breakfast through the bars of his cage. It’s a much better breakfast than your own but he wrinkles his nose at it before giving in and eating it.

As he eats you continue with your chores. Most of them are in the same area he is so you’re easily able to take care of his breakfast dishes. The two of you end up chatting while you work. He introduces himself as Venti the bard and tells you stories about his travels all over Teyvat, often times in rhymes. When he isn’t telling stories he’s singing you songs while you work to distract you from the numerous aches and pains that you’ve developed from all the work you have been doing. In return, you tell him about how you ended up in the enchanted forest in the first place.

You explain how the village has become convinced that you were a witch, even your own family. They had cast you out and now you have nowhere else to go. It was hard to talk about but oddly enough you felt better after telling Venti about it. He didn’t judge you or pity you for it, there was just a serene sort of sympathy that helped you feel heard and validated. And since you don’t really talk to strangers about that sort of thing, the two of you decide that you are friends.

A couple days pass and you notice that the witch has been testing how fat he is by feeling his finger. And the fatter he is, the more he has eaten, the closer he is to being eaten himself. Every meal has to be finished, she knows otherwise and the consequences aren’t pretty. So far he certainly isn’t fat, but both of you know it’s only a matter of time.

Then you come up with a brilliant idea. “What if,” you whisper to him after she leaves the room after checking, “you have her check that bone instead of your finger when she next checks? Her eyesight is bad enough that she probably can’t see the difference and it will buy us time while we try to come up with an idea to escape.”

“That might just work!” He declares. “And that would be just the thing to wipe off her smirk. It should buy us the time as long as she doesn’t give it too much mind. Here’s hoping it works, because the alternative will be much worse.” You slowly nod your head, “At least it’s a start.” He smiles at replies, “And it’s truly is quite smart.”

You blush at the compliment and feel your heart flutter in your chest. As time has gone by you have found yourself falling for him. It’s not any one specific thing, but a combination of many things that make him who he is: his jokes, kindness, thoughtfulness, and trying to make the best of your situation, to name a few. And it doesn’t hurt that he’s so cute.

Thankfully, the trick does work to your delight and her frustration. She started making his meals larger, but he just shared with you instead of eating it all himself. After all, the food needs to be eaten. And you may have admitted to be surviving off of bread crusts at some point. “I can’t have you dying of hunger, we need to escape together after all. And besides, friends take care of each other.” He insisted.

You swear that you fall just a little further in love with him every day. Sometimes you catch yourself staring and have to look away quickly, hoping he didn’t notice. Part of you suspects he does notice judging by the blush that dusts his cheeks you spot before you manage to look away. But if he does notice he doesn’t say anything.

Things continue like this for over a month with the witch becoming more and more impatient as time goes on. The two of you have yet to have found a good plan of escape and can tell things are getting more and more risky as time goes on. And one day, the witch finally snaps, the weight of her hunger breaking through what patience and reason she had left.

“I’m tired to waiting!” She exclaims, stomping on the floor. “I’m so hungry that I’ll just eat him, skinny as he is. And you know what? I’ll eat you too! Heat up the oven already, it’s time for me to feast.” Her gaze is fastened on you as you shakily start putting firewood in the oven in jerky motions. Both of you have gone pale and Venti has gone eerily still in his cage.

All too soon a fire is roaring in the oven. “Now check the temperature,” she orders you with a wicked gleam in her eyes. Venti caught on immediately and started silently gesturing for you not to do it. With his warning you realized what was going on. “Um, how would I do that?” You inquire instead.

“I’ve never used your oven before because you always do all the cooking.” It’s technically true, but you have used similar ovens in the past and know exactly how dangerous checking the temperature could be in this situation. But if you manage to turn it around… well, that might just work.

The witch stomps over to the oven and demonstrates how to check the temperature, leaning towards the oven with her head nearly inside. Rushing up behind her, you push her in and latch the door. There’s silence, so you unlatch the door and peek inside to find a melting gummy bear instead of the witch. “She’s a melting gummy bear. She won’t be eating anyone anymore.” You reassure Venti, who takes a deep breath out in relief. Not wasting any time, you start searching around for the key to the cage and eventually find it in the drawer of her bedroom nightstand..

He cheers with a big grin on his face. “You did it! We’re saved!” Fumbling with the keys and with a couple failed attempts you were able to open the door to his cage and he lept out. “Now I just need to find my treasure! Could you help me find it?” He requested. “Sure,” you say, already starting to look through her kitchen drawers. “What does it look like?” He shrugs. “Oh, you’ll know it when you see it,” he mentions vaguely as he works his way through checking some of the smaller rooms in the house.

After a while of searching you reach into a vase filled with flowers made of spun sugar and pull something out. It appears to be a queen from a chess set with a glowing turquoise orb set in it. “Is this it?” You question loudly so he can hear you from where he’s searching at the other end of the house. Footsteps approach as he rushes to check and his face lights up as he sees it. “That’s it!” He crows as he takes it from your outstretched hand.

He holds it close to his chest and the room flashes with a bright turquoise light. Not expecting the light, it blinded you and you dropped to your knees with a cry. You cover your eyes with your hands belatedly and try desperately to blink the darkness from your vision. Distantly you can hear him curse as he realized his mistake.

“I’m so sorry,” he apologizes. You feel him gently peel your hands away from your eyes and replace them with his own. A cooling, numbing feeling soothes your eyes. He moves his hands to the sides of your face and runs his thumbs over your eyelids one more time before you dare to try and open them.

At first you’re surprised by your restored vision as you look down at your hands. But when you look up you’re surprised for a whole other reason. Venti still looks like Venti, except for where he doesn’t. There’s a lot more skin showing than there was before, revealing turquoise tattoos on his chest and leg as he crouches in front of you. He is dressed in an immaculate white and gold outfit with turquoise accents that almost seems to glow. But most of all, he has sprouted white wings from his back.

“Huh?” You utter, very articulately, mouth gaping. Rubbing your eyes again, you try to see if that will fix your vision. Nope, he’s still there. You can hardly believe your eyes. He lets out a laugh at your reaction and it sounds like the tinkling of bells. “Am I really so amazing that it’s left you speechless?” He teases. All you can do is nod slowly, which makes him frown.

“I’m still Venti, you know,” he tells you, trying to put you at ease. “Sure, I may be Barbatos too, but I’m still your friend. There is no need for such awe. Though I’m afraid to say that it does mean that I can’t stay. I need to return home. But before I go, I can grant you one wish as a reward for all of your help.”

You gaze at him silently for a couple minutes as he patiently waits for your response. “If you have to go, then I wish for you to take me with you,” you admit. He blinks, surprised. “I would love to, honestly, but you know that means you won’t be able to come back, right? And I’d have to change you. You wouldn’t be human anymore.” You smile and nod. “I’m certain, it’s not like I have anything left here to return to anyways.”

“So be it then,” he says with a grin before he leans it and presses a kiss to your forehead. Your whole body tingles as your features change. Your ears grow longer and narrow into points at the ends. Wings sprout from your back, tearing holes in the back of your shirt. Your height adjusts to make you within an inch or two of his height. Opening your eyes after the transformation, you spy the blush dusting his cheeks as he avoids eye contact with you.

“You missed,” you tease, leaning in closer to him. His blush grows as he looks back at you, gaze getting stuck on your lips as he gulps. You can feel your own cheeks warm at the thought of what must be going through his head. “May I kiss you?” You implore, moving your hands to rest on his knees. He nods his head shakily.

Reaching up to cup the back of his neck with both hands, you pull him down to you so your lips can reach his. The kiss is simple but lingers as you pull away. He pulls you back in before you get too far. The next kiss is more passionate than the first, with an edge of desperation.

Eventually he breaks away. “We’ll need to finish this later,” he hums, nuzzling his nose against yours. “But there will be plenty of time for this in the future. We have all the time in the world now. And I want to spend every second of it with you.”

[acovenofcaffineandchaos]

How to Befriend Your Local Crows

Befriending crows is something that you may hear about online and want to do, but the actual process is both simpler and more complex than people usually think. Feeding the crows goes a long way towards making nice with them, but you still need to understand their social behaviors as well. Crows are naturally skittish birds and aren’t quick to trust, even if you’re constantly trying to bond with them. The group in the photo above I’ve been working with since the spring of 2019, and even then not all of them will come within 5 to 10 feet of me.

One of the things I learned while working with my local murder is that signaling them that you’re there, or giving them a way to identify you adds to them learning you’re safe. I personally use an auditory signal by singing out loud to them. You could also whistle, like my partner does, but the auditory signal -so long as it’s not something they may associate with danger- is completely up to you.

Now, what foods are good to feed to crows? There are several do’s and do not’s. For example, bread and birdseed aren’t good options because they’re high in fat and low in other nutrition. In winter it would be more reasonable to feed birdseed, but alongside something else that’s better for them nutritionally. So what is better for them and easy to access? The list is definitely varied.

Fruits: strawberries, blueberries, raspberries, blackberries, apricots, non-seeded  apples, and other “wild” fruits from your local area.

Nuts: pine nuts, walnuts, acorns, and chestnuts. My local crows have a major sweet tooth for whole roasted unsalted peanuts. Avoid ones with salt as it’s not good for crows.

Invertebrates: This means snails, worms, and grubs. Check your local fish-bait or reptile supply stores for non-toxic snails and grubs.

Grains: Uncooked pasta, either normal or vegetable based, and raw grains. Whole wheat bread is preferred over normal bread, but I still try not to feed bread personally. Plain air-popped popcorn is also alright.

Eggs: Raw egg yolks, whole eggs, or hard-boiled eggs.

These are generally the best foods to feed to any crows you’re trying to befriend. Things to keep in mind, though, is crows are wicked smart. They recognize people with or without masks, and teach other crows (including their offspring) who is safe and who to avoid. So if you’ve been rude to the crows in the past, they’ll likely remember and it will be a lot harder to gain their trust. In the past, I’ve shown them that I’m trustworthy by sharing low-salt goldfish with them, making sure I’d give them a little and then eat some myself before giving them more. But I soon switched to giving them peanuts as cheese isn’t good for crows, or any bird, in the long run. 

I’m personally still learning a lot about crows, and I’ve even gotten a book called In The Company of Crows and Ravens by John M. Marzluff and Tony Angell to learn more. It’s a longish book at 384 pages including the index, but totally worth the read if you’re keen on befriending your local crows. The book not only teaches about crow’s behavior, but also the impact society has had on the species and vice versa.

Crows are an amazing bird to work with if you’re an animal or hedge witch, and if you’re lucky, they might even give you gifts one day in thanks for your place in their lives. To me, crows are a very important animal in my craft as they’re one of the favored animals of one of my deities. 

So go forth with this information and be kind to your crows. They’re a beautiful bird that deserves respect and fair treatment.

[dian-morey]

Morey Makes... A Mess

Takes Place: March 27th, 2022 @ the Opening Day of the Farmer’s Market

Starring: @sebastian-morey @elliot-morey @mads-morey @gem-morey @devyn-morey

the thread where Dian’s public return makes a splash...

[tw: violence, fire, blood mentions, general family drama]

Sebastian Morey:

Let it be known - Sebastian was furious. 

He'd been furious. He'd let that anger simmer and rise, and simmer and rise and simmer and rise again time after time. With every text. Every mention of Dian. Every dumb decision. For a while... it had softened - but he'd found that anger return once more after it was mentioned that Dian would be working the farmer's market stand. It had hit him immediately - that red hot boil under his skin that made him push away from the dinner table with a muttered excuse of not feeling well before he'd cooled off in his room. 

Sebastian thought he'd let it simmer again. Decided it wasn't worth his time and that he'd simply ignore Dian. He couldn't man the stand the whole time anyways, right? He just wouldn't see him. At least...that was Sebastian figured. 

That spike of irritation that raised the hairs on the back of his neck as he approached the booth told him otherwise. It was on sight - that anger flooding to the surface again the second he laid eyes on his brother for the first time in months. Fingers curled tightly into his palm as a derisive sniff was the only immediate greeting to his 'long lost' brother. 

"...Ah - Dian. How very thoughtful of you to show your face, figlio di puttana codardo."

Dian Morey:

Dian had finally settled and got back to his book. The constant throng of the late afternoon customers didn't bother him as much as they did earlier. He could get used to the noise. The rush of life, the scandalized side looks. 

All was well. 

That was until Sebastian’s hot blooded reaction to the sight of him put him on edge. They hadn't seen each other in months. Seb made it clear how he felt and Dian didn't want to push him. He'd been through a lot and his elder brother was kind of an arse. He understood the anger his middle brother felt. Though he was never sure how to make it up to him. Or if he'd ever get the chance to.

He could only pick out a few of the words he'd said, as Dian was not fluent in Italian... He looked up from the pages and shot him a confused look. And then against his own best interest he couldn't help but quip back, "That's not a very nice thing to say about our mother."

Sebastian Morey: 

His knuckle cracked - the sound almost too loud in an already busy market area, but Sebastian could still feel the way his fingers continued to tense against his palm. There was a difference between being angry at a person and yelling at them through a screen. Being mad at them at a distance - and finally being mad at them in person. 

It felt like all of that anger he'd never fully gotten to express was crashing back to the surface like a tsunami's wave, tearing through any good intention or desire for reconciliation. 

And for Dian to have the audacity to be smart with him? Oh, it only ignited that explosive wick at both ends. His jaw set tightly as he strode forward - closing the distance between them as a scoff slipped from his lips. "Oh you think you're so fucking funny, don't you?" Sebastian asked, glaring daggers towards his brother as he stepped into the man's space - not caring if that heated Italian tone brought on looks. "This entire time that's all you've been capable of, isn't it? Trading the good son and brother career for being a lousy fuckin' comedian instead, huh."

Elliot Morey:

You know sometimes being able to hear ghosts sucked, sometimes though it was a good thing, especially when you found out there was a scuffle going on at the Morey stand and two of his brothers were yelling. So Yup Elliot headed straight there.

Dian Morey: 

Dian could hear Sebastian's blood pressure raise with his comments. The should be steady thrum of a heart turned to high volume whooshes. He knew it was a mistake as soon as he uttered it. Sebastian used to appreciate a sarcastic remark, but now maybe wasn't the time. Dian had to stop hanging out with Mads so much...

Dian didn't bother to back away from Sebastian as he closed the space between them. Not for any macho reasons, just that he didn't think he'd hit him. Even if he did, would it hurt? Despite his stoic outwardly appearance. The words thrown with such vitriol did hurt. Not the flesh, like some would assume Sebastian was going to. But somewhere deeper. The black cavern Dian once called a heart. The good son and brother. That's what he was. That's all he was before and he resented it then. He was good because that's all he could be for them. He wasn't special. Until the day he died.

And then he realized he'd give anything to go back to how it was. 

But it was too late now. The damage was done, he could only pay reparations for the errors he made after falling from grace. 

"I'd give anything to go back, Seb! I'd trade it all back if I could be the same as before. But that's not something I can fix. I'm fucking here because I am trying. What else do you want from me, Sebastian?" Dian wasn't too concerned with his volume, he kept it level. He was always one of the cool headed ones.

Mads Morey:

Mads had been watching from the sidelines, debating on interrupting, but ultimately was deciding to let his brothers hash things out. It's what it took for him to forgive Dian. 

That is, until Dian got dangerously close to outing himself as a vampire. 

I'd give anything to be the same as before. Sure, this could be interpreted as, like, before being traumatized by what happened, but if Dian wasn't careful and if Seb kept on like this, Mads feared the worst. That the secret the seven brothers were holding from their parents would be revealed to their entire town.

Mads closed some of the distance between them and tried to talk Seb, the angrier of the two, down.

"Seb, please," Mads hissed, his voice low. "Not here. I know you're angry but can't you two fight somewhere less public?"

His eyes scanned the crowd forming around them, searching for fingers typing on cell phones.

Sebastian Morey:

What else did he want from Dian? 

Transparency. From the beginning. For the future. That's all he wanted. To be told. To not have been sitting in the dark. Dian hadn't even had the audacity to tell them he was doing this himself. He couldn't text. Never seemingly could manage that one single word that would have let them know he was okay. That was all he ever fucking wanted but evidently even that small shred of respect was too much for Dian to handle. His tongue was forming around another biting remark when he felt the presence beside him, bristling as Mads' voice interrupted his thoughts before could voice them. 

It was purely gut reaction that had Sebastian immediately turning on his other brother and taking that anger out on him instead, shoving him away roughly. "Was I fuckin' asking you, Mads?" He snapped, glaring angrily between the pair of them. "If he gave a shit about less public he wouldn't have shown up out of the blue now after months when the whole fuckin' town thinks he's dead or missing." Something Sebastian was sure someone was bound to notice - oh wait they already did! 

"And if he gave a shit about us he would have done everything differently!"

Gem Morey:

The farmer's market wasn't exactly his favourite Swynlake event. He found the whole thing a little...trite. (Though, pie eating was obviously always a good thing.) But, Mama loved it and usually the whole family got together to help man the booth. Most Sundays, Gem only came for his allotted shift, put in his time, punched his card--and then dipped. On opening day, though, he had told Mama he would come for the entire time. Mostly because it would make her happy, but also because he knew that Dian was gonna be there and that this was probably going to happen.

Not like Gem knew how to stop it, as Mads tried to cut in and then Seb, face twisted with rage, pushed him off again. Gem didn't want to get too close. He hated fighting, it always stressed him out. And if he got in Seb's circle, with Seb as pissed as he was--

It wouldn't be  good for anyone. So, instead, he stayed at the corner of the booth, his jaw clenched and nails biting into his palms. 

"Seb," Gem warned, his voice low. His own blood was rushing hot.

Dian Morey:

Dian wanted to respond. To tell Sebastian that they were all he gave a shit about. That when he thought he was dying he thought of them. That when he did die, he dreamt of them and the precious memories they had ran like a movie reel through his subconsciousness. He would tell him that if he would just give him a chance, he'd spend the rest of his life trying to make up for those months of pain. 

But Sebastian wouldn't hear it. He would shove Mads, scare Gem... Dian couldn't let that continue. His mind went to damage control. He looked around at the prying eyes. He had to trust that even in his anger, Seb wouldn't air his dirty laundry. So he focused on remaining calm. Being calm was about the only thing he could think to do to cool the inferno behind him that was easily twenty degrees hotter than before. Mads wouldn't butt in anymore, trusting his big brother to handle it. But Gem? He'd take it upon himself to diffuse the situation at the risk of his own safety. 

But that was never his responsibility. It was Dian's and he'd been doing a shitty job lately. "Look, Seb," he began evenly, keeping his hands and body language open. "I know I failed you. I am the one who fucked up. I'm here now because I am making an effort to get back to how things were. Mama asked me to come and I can't keep saying no to her. You don't have to accept my apology. I won't blame you if you don't. It's not going to change what happened. All I can do is change how I am handling it. I am trying, Sebastian, and I am sorry. You don't have to rope them into this." He nodded towards his brothers who were on high alert.

Elliot Morey:

Elliot wasn't quite sure of what type of scene he had stumbled onto, not with Sebastian fist clenched and Mads and Gem looking like they were stuck in the middle. Honestly he had never been happy with Dian's decision to rejoin society like this. 

It was stupid and risky and slapped all of them in their faces. But Elli was also done being mad, done being upset. And this was so not the place. 

Stepping beside Sebastian, Elliot tried to angle himself slightly in front of his brother. "È stupido lo sappiamo. Ma allontanati, Seb." Elliot spoke calmly switching to Italian so he could insult Dian and try to get Sebastian to walk away. Honestly though either one of them should but even as that thought entered his head, Elli knew he would be pissed if Dian just walked away too.

Sebastian Morey:

He heard Gem's warning - heard Elliot's quiet Italian as he stepped between the pair of them a bit, but Sebastian remained rigid, his chest heaving with an angry huff of a breath. 

It wasn't fair that Dian could act this way and think everything would be fine. That he could just keep doing shit like that and that everyone would accept it and move on like he didn't fuck all of them over this entire time. Sebastian was still hurt by that. Still upset that their brother couldn't manage a single word to tell them he was okay. Didn't have the balls to tell his own parents he wasn't missing or gone forever. Couldn't show up to Christmas. Couldn't text a 'hey I'm coming to help today'. Nothing. Idiot. Idiot, idiot idiot. 

Walk away, Seb.

A sigh slipped through his lips, a heavy thing that drew down Seb's shoulders a bit with it. Perhaps Elliot was right. It wasn't worth it, he knew that. Plus it would just get him more upset than he needed to be... Dian wasn't going to change. Wasn't going to say anything or do anything to make up for the hell he'd caused here. So what was the point? Sebastian couldn't do anything about it and...well, yeah. It was just best to walk away. 

And yet... despite all of his morals. All of his fear... he still found himself turning back and throwing  a slightly too solid punch at Dian's face (fueled by that vampire strength he hadn't realized he'd picked up).

Mads Morey:

"Fuck!" Mads exclaimed as Seb wound his fist back for a punch. He moved to step between them, for fear Seb's fist connecting with Dian's face and not actually DOING anything would out Dian-- but he was very much too slow.

Gem Morey: 

It happened very quickly.

Fights always did. They happened in jail sometimes. People scuffling over shower tokens, over food, over a spot in the sunshine during their hour outside a day. Gem always hated them. It was the speed of them. Fists flying, shouting, the kind of thing that had always made him feel small.

The difference was: in prison, there had been a dampener on his magic. He could feel it burning under his skin but it could never come out. Sometimes, he screamed into his pillow, but most of the time, he had learned to just dig his nails into his palms until it stopped.

Seb's fist flew. Mads lunged forwards. Gem heard the sound of flesh being hit. His eyes squeezed tight and he felt his whole body tense as he flinched back.

A flame shot out of his hands, climbing up his arms in a column of fire. It only took the corner of the banner at the front of the stall to catch, the plastic eaten up quickly and the wood began to smoke--

Dian Morey:

Dian felt ashamed to have his brothers all trying to clean up his mess. Elliot seemingly calmed Seb down, the temperature lowered gradually... then within the blink of an eye, CRACK. 

Sebastian had not been taking his allergy shots in the months he'd been absent. Who else would he trust to administer them? He'd contracted the strength of a vampire, or at least enough of it to break the jaw of one. 

Dian grunted, enduring the pain. It would heal too fast for him to show any real reaction. Instead, he covered his face with the crook of his elbow just long enough for the bone to mend. Within those seconds, the blood stopped and the fire began. He wasn't worried about his face, he was worried about Gem. And the stall, but mostly his brother. He turned his attention back to Sebastian, the aggressor. "Are you happy now?" It was the only cross word he'd share to him. It was all that was needed. 

Then, the first responder training went into good use. Dian pulled down the banner, keeping it away from the very flammable stand. He then searched for something to smother the flames with. "It's gonna be fine, just get some water or a tarp to cover it." He directed to the people closest to him, his voice was firm but still held the warmth it did all those months ago. He was different now, but the heart of the eldest Morey was still the same.

Devyn Morey:

It was about time for the shift change at Morey Makes, Devyn knowing that their fun in the sun was coming to an end. They'd gotten lots of trinkets, treasures, and tasty treats. Really, Devyn had made out of this experience pretty well! They were excited to see what sorts of things got put out over the next coming months if this was just the opening weekend!

They were counting the money left in their pocket as they walked back to the booth, not really paying attention to those around them. No, Devyn mostly just wanted to be sure that they had enough to buy a treat after the market closed at Chippamunka's. Maybe Anna would wanna share a milkshake, it'd be cute.

It wasn't the smell of smoke that alerted Devyn to the goings ons of his siblings, no, the fire had barely started by the time he arrived, but it was the way that Sebastian's momentum hadn't finished after colliding with Dian's face.

Devyn stopped, ten feet away from the rest of the family. Stunned, Devyn hesitated as they tried to figure out what exactly they should do in this situation. Had Dian said something? Had Seb come looking for a fight? What had Devyn missed while they were gallivanting around the market?

"What's going—?" Oh. There was the fire. Devyn blinked, watching Dian (flammable vampire Dian) grab the banner. Devyn tried to snatch the banner away from Dian, hoping Dian's sense of DANGER might kick in when he realized how stupid grabbing the fire was.

"Elli? Help?"

Elliot Morey:

People were running at the fire, which was stupid as fuck, Dian ordering people how to fight a fire also stupid as fuck. Everything was fucking stupid as fuck and Elliot wanted to scream. But he couldn't even if all of his brothers were stupid. 

"Everyone back the hell up now!" Elliot commanded, the more people started to gather he sighed. "Mads, Papa, Mama make people step back. Wide circle if you can. No one comes near unless they have bucket of water or something we can smother the flames." Calling out the people with the booths closest he got them to pick up theirs and angle it away from the fire. To create distance so they wouldn't catch on fire either. This one could burn out if they kept it away from any fuel source. If they could get it smothered and out, they didn't need to call 999. "Mama get 999 on the line." Better safe than sorry.

"Devyn stay with Sebastian, or Sebastian get out of here and cool the fuck down."

"Gem, do you wanna get out of here with someone? Or do you want to help?"

Elliot stated turning to each person as he took charge of the scene moving to Dian next. "You're fucking flammable can you step the fuck back and let me handle this. Or go zoom and find me an extinguisher. You're a fucking Doctor not a firefighter idiot." Elliot stated moving to get any of the fuel out of the way as he tried to smother out any flames that got further than just the burning stand. He needed water or an extinguisher and not people playing fucking hero.

Mads Morey:

Mads liked to think he was, as a rule, proud of his younger brothers. However, he was incredibly proud of Elli right now. Hard to believe this was the kid he'd do jigsaw puzzles with until 6:00 in the morning on a school night.

Mads yelped as flames got spooky close to Dian, reaching forward to try and yank him back by his shirt.

"Abi, what the hell!? You're literally extra flammable." He hissed.

To the people standing near him, he called out while pointing at Elli, "Everyone listen to my brother! He knows what he's doing," and went to find a water source and something to transport it in.

Sebastian Morey:

Honestly he hadn't been sure what came over him. Yes he was mad, yes he was upset but it didn't ever tend to stray into violence - and the reminder of why easily hit him with dread as the dominos fell over one by one.

Sebastian should have known the violence might trigger some kind of flighty response in Gem. He knew better. He always knew better - and so the sudden leap of flames burned a pit into his stomach quicker than it did the banner. The worry and concern knotting in his gut as he glanced down at his throbbing hand and tried to flex his fingers with a wince. 

Are you happy now.

His lip twitched as he finally cradled his hand to his chest, his gaze slipping up to quickly glance between his brothers - the fire - the parentals. 

If he stared too long, the flames that leapt up and licked at the wood seemed to turn into rubble. Smoke transforming into dust. Are you happy now echoing but not in Dian's voice but Giuseppe's.

He swallowed the lump in his throat, feeling worse now than he had before as he took a few steps back. The heat that coated the back of his neck had nothing to do with the flames as he looked around and noticed the people all turning and looking this way. He back pedaled a bit more with a soft shake of his head - it would only be worse for him to stay.

So he quickly excused himself in soft Italian and pushed through the crowd behind him so that he could slink off away from the mess he'd caused before he made it worse.

Gem Morey:

Gem couldn’t move. He watched as Dian ripped down the banner, but it was too late, the rest of the booth had already caught flame. One of Mama’s crochets disintegrated. Devyn’s painting. All the wooden figurines. The jars of jam popped and shattered, spraying glass. 

Elliot was shouting. Mads ran to get help. Seb ran. 

And Gem stood there, watching the flames eating up everything, including his freedom. His hands were shaking, though no one could see it, because they were still covered in flame. He couldn’t put them out. And he was afraid to move, if he tried to shake it out—he could just spill fire across the ground—the booth next door. 

There was more shouting through the crowd as a group of firefighters pushed through. “Out of the way!” the one in front called. He came to a stop next to Elliot, putting a hand on his shoulder, holding firmly. 

“What is going on here?”

Even as he asked, the rest of the team began unrolling the fire hose to hook up to the nearest hydrant.

Devyn Morey:

Devyn stared at Elli, knowing that their firefighter brother was the best for directing this situation. He ignored Dian and Mads, only shooting Gem a sad look as he chased after Seb.

He'd catch up with Gem later. Elli gave him a job for now.

Elliot Morey:

Seb ran, Dev followed, Mads left like a god damn idiot and Elliot wanted to scream. Gem stood there and considering the look on his face Elliot wasn't sure that he had heard him and all the fear and panic swelled in Elliot's chest because he couldn't do anything. He didn't have his gear, he only had what around him.

He needed to get the fire out before something worse happened, before there was more damage, before one of his stupid brothers get themselves hurt. Tom's hand on his shoulder centered him, focused him out of the panic of having to handle this himself. This was why fire fighters worked in teams. They needed the back up.

They had the gear and for a second Elliot could relax until he surveyed the scene to relay details. "The booth caught fire, an accident with my brother, but it's been contained. My parents are trying to manage crowd control. No injuries noted everyone was far enough away." Elli knew he had some licks of burns but they were nothing but first degree from him getting too close. "Separated the booths to contain the fire. Can you handle it from here?" Elliot asked looking up at his fellow firefighters taking a deep breath. The booth was actually the easy part of this, Elliot wanted to get to Gem, if Dev was with Seb and Mads was who know where and well Dian couldn't do it that was for sure. "My brother's also on fire but I want to try talking to him but yeah... be on stand by." Elliot didn't know if he could help, he kind of doubted he would, but he didn't want to douse his brother just yet if it could be prevented.

"Hey Gem. Can you focus on me."

Dian Morey:

Dian stood back and watched the chaos ensue. Flames licked the wood of the stall, sending ash into the air. The same ash fell from Dian's hand. Tendrils of flame kissed his palm when he tried to stop the spread. His stone skin turned to dust at the heat, but the fresh wound was healing over with a speed that unsettled his medical mind. Grey, charred skin being taken over by the tan flesh of his hand. 

Everyone scattered along the sidelines, familiar faces stood peering at the Morey spectacle. Elli was a hero, Dian always knew he could captivate a crowd. But now he was captivated. When did his little brother get so brave? And Gem, stood there engulfed in the flame. Dian's heart sank. He would blame himself. He would say he didn't, act like it didn't bother him, but he would. But the eldest, maybe not the wisest, brother... he knew who was really to blame. 

Dian Morey (d. September 29, 2021) came back from the grave just to decimate his family along with countless others. It was his fault. He thought back to his conversation with Mads earlier. And in that moment, standing in the wake of ash and flame, Dian decided it would have been better if he hadn't returned at all.

Gem Morey: 

Gem heard Elliot's voice. The flame was quiet. He saw through it. Flame was only loud when it was eating through something, but it wasn't eating through anything of Gem except his insides. And his shirt but whatever. He hadn't liked this shirt that much anyway. All he could hear was the rush-pounding of his own heart. He couldn't get it to quiet down. Cursed himself for not popping a Xanax, but he hadn't wanted to be high around his mama and papa. Not today. Stupidstupidstupid, said his heart. And his brother. Elliot said something too. 

The thing was--if he could hear his brother that meant he was close.

Too close.

Gem stepped back and the fire leapt higher. "Don't--" he warned. 

"Elli, if he can't--we're gonna have to spray him down before he catches something else on fire," came another firefighter's voice. The one who was friends with Elliot. Gem couldn't remember his name. Why would he know it? 

Elliot Morey:

"Tom just wait! Please." Elliot begged barely giving him any time before he focused back on Gem. Elliot stayed where he was, holding out his hands to his brother. "Hey- hey, it's fine okay. You're not going to hurt me but I want to help you okay." Elliot started off. "I can get my jacket, I'll be fine." There was again no promises. Elli didn't know how Gem's fire worked, if his jacket would be enough. Not enough to touch him but enough for brief moments of the fire to pass by him.

"I'll back up okay. We can make a circle around you of foam. You won't set anything else on fire. Okay. We can do that. " Elliot was making a lot of promises, none that he knew if he could keep. But this was the reason he saw benefit in being a fire fighter. He would be able to help his family.

Gem Morey:

Elliot's words meant very little to him because he could hurt him. He could not mean to and he could still do it. It didn't matter that Elliot was a firefighter. He was still human. And Gem was an inferno. His breath caught and he tried to hold it, but it just burst from him again, his lungs squeezing, begging for more air. The fire was taking it all from him. The flames leapt higher as he tried to wrestle them down.

"Elliot, get back!" he heard Tom call. "NOW!" 

The firefighters waited until Elliot tripped back and away before spraying the ground in front of Gem. He felt the drops pierce his skin like bullets. The flames fought back for a while, but eventually, they stopped. Leaving Gem standing there, soaked, in his charred clothing. He didn't know what to do. People were staring. The last time this had happened he'd been arrested. 

No one looked like they were trying to arrest him now. The firefighters had moved on to the booth. It was his mama who called his name first, softly.

"Gem," she said. She didn't move towards him. Good. (It hurt.) 

Gem shook his a little, like a wet dog. Then, he turned on his heel and left, weaving through the booths until he was free of the market.

Elliot Morey:

Elliot didn't want to get back, he wanted to barrel forward. To grab Gem and let him help him. But the fire burst higher and hot and closer and Elliot had no choice to back up and give space to the firefighters to work.

He watched Gem get soaked and he shouldn't do anything, he heard his mom's voice and continued do anything and when Gem ran, Elliot slumped to the ground looking at the chaos that was left in their wake. It was foolish to think this would have been anything but chaos. 

Did he run after him? Would that be the wrong decision? It all felt like the wrong decision but with Gem's lead Elli knew he didn't have time to catch up.

Pushing himself to his feet he walked over to the firefighter in charge of the scene. At least he could help clean this up in some regard. It was their mess after all.

[boop-le-snoot]

cupid carries a gun

masterlist • taglist & faq

dark!Bruce Banner x named!Reader. Rated R.

Dr. Banner is a serial killer known as the Doctor and Bailey has his soulmark. He escapes imprisonment and meets his soulmate. ~2,2k words. Serial killer fluff??

[no y/n, no 'you', no reader description, race/age/body type neutral, only first name]

This is more of a concept I wrote in an hour than an actual fic. I think it would make a good multi-chapter, but really, my hands are full now and I just needed to get this weird dream off my chest. Yes, I had a dream he was a serial killer and I was his soulmate 💀🖐🏻 I need to ease up on true crime shows istg...

St. John's was suffering a nasty collective psychosis. That would be the only logical explanation Bailey is willing to accept for the jittery, jerky way everybody is behaving. Some of it could be attributed to the armed guards roaming the halls and scaring the patients - but in America, a gun slung over the shoulder shouldn't invoke such a reaction from people.

Only select few know what these people are there for, anyways. Most hospital population is clueless, only vaguely perceiving the sense of dread those harbouring the knowledge seem to carry around. People are easily scared - the thought doesn't leave Bailey's head her whole shift.

She, however, knows exactly what is happening. She's good at her job, brilliant even, nerves made of purest steel and bedside manner perfectly compassionate and tender. It doesn't come as a surprise that she is the one that got chosen to handle the problematic, uncooperative patients.

The bar is high, and this time - neigh impossible. A man so dangerous, so volatile, it required the sheriff to dispatch their town's squadron of special forces - not that was anything but a slight setback for the Doctor. The halls of this hospital will be forever marred with their blood, will forever be haunted by the echoes of their screams abruptly cutting off with a wet squelch.

Bailey thought she'd done her part to protect the innocents. Her colleagues, young women just like her (they're not, Bailey's mind whispers), all safely locked away in a storage closet for the cops to find. There are no windows and He won't see or hear them... If they're smart.

There he is, the man everybody is savagely afraid of. He is everything and nothing she had imagined - Doctor Bruce Banner is on the shorter side, stocky and sickly pale in his hospital issue pajamas, the bluish tint to his skin contrasted by dark crimson stains of blood on the rancid green cotton of his clothes.

The axe in his hands is held firmly but clumsily - Bailey's sure it wouldn't have been his weapon of choice should he had been given one. A choice. She swallowed the unease that spread all over her determination like mold, seeing his eyes, wild and crazy, land on the crook of her arm - where his mark laid, bright red and angry, as if it had been carved into her flesh mere days ago.

"Are you, perhaps, in need of a nurse, doctor Banner?" Bailey inquired softly, fingertips shaking, as the man crossed the space between them with short, powerful strides. The woman's stance widened, involuntary shivers running through her bones at the unexpected tenderness coming from him - Dr. Banner's palms gently wrapped around her arm, warm, chapped lips touching the angry, red soulmark near the crook of her elbow.

"It's been so long since I had a nurse," the man's mutter was barely audible. His eyes, the warmest brown she'd ever seen, met Bailey's wide, shining ones, for her to discover no trace of the madness she was told should be there. Bailey smiled.

As the hospital building grew smaller in the rear view mirror, so did Bailey's anxiety, paving way to excitement and muted curiosity. Her mother always had told that fate had a way of intervening when it was needed - and her mom had oftentimes taken up the role onto herself, moving them out of the state when Bailey's soulmark began to appear on dead people's bodies, burned or cut into skin as a signature. Bailey was not old enough to understand what it meant, back then, but she'd always been a clever girl.

With her first mobile device, she figured out why her mother strictly prohibited her from speaking about it, why her mother always kept a stash of large bandaids to cover it should Bailey be required to remove her long-sleeve shirt.

Only Bailey's physician knew. She'd expected terror, disgust - or even pity, but Dr. Strange always kept his mouth and eyes shut. As Bailey grew older, blossomed into a fine young woman, she thought she saw envy leak into his chiseled features - but Dr. Strange was as quiet and cynical as ever.

As long as nobody tried to separate them, it would be fine. A small smile stretched her plush lips, hand squeezing the one holding hers with giddiness creeping into her youthful features. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed an expression of curious tranquility on Dr. Banner's- Bruce's face as his eyes stayed firmly on the road as the radio crackled static in-between songs.

"Penny for your thoughts?" The man she'd grown to crave and fear, his salt and pepper curls bouncing with every pothole the car hit; his warm hand, larger than hers by a stretch, provided comfort she hadn't known she needed.

"Where to, doc?" The woman couldn't hold back the anticipation. She wanted to hold him, to be close - closer than her small, cramped cheap car allowed them to be.

"I have some friends waiting for me," the man announced, as if he hadn't spent the last five years in a maximum security prison. Not that it mattered to Bailey - but knowing there was no way back from this, Bruce's so-called friends became a point of doubt to the young woman. The doctor noticed it, his responding smile both dangerous and comforting, all sharp canines and moist lips. "You know them, baby. Dr. Strange is a colleague of mine and Tony Stark is a great friend."

Bailey's eyebrows rose, mild disbelief caught somewhere in her trachea as she attempted to clear her throat. Her family physician and the businessman rumoured to be the largest crime boss of their side of the pond. Suddenly, Strange's long glances and penetrating stares acquired a new meaning, a sense of indignation seeping into Bailey's newly found joy. "And he never said anything," the longing, the countless nights spent studying every publicly available material on Dr. Banner, the killer surgeon that terrorised the Tri-State area burned acrid in her chest.

"He told everything to me," Bruce's remark stung if only from the fact that he'd known about her all along. "Who, do you think, pushed for your transfer to St. John's?" Bruce's smile glinted a little wicked in the meager light of passing-by streetlights as the evening sun simmered down to a rest below the horizon. "I don't actually have cancer," the second remark was more optimistic, spoken hopefully, with another gentle squeeze to her hand.

Bailey puffed out a breath she didn't know she was holding. The puzzle pieces slowly started to arrange themselves, revealing a bigger picture than the one before. She wanted to be mad - mad at Stephen, for not saying anything; mad at Bruce, for getting himself caught years prior. And the anger at her own mother, for taking away her right to stand by her soulmate, for all the countless fights and nights spent locked up in her room.

Bailey had been treated like a monster as soon as he soulmark showed up - and after so much time spent trying to show she wasn't one, perhaps, it was time to face the truth. Perhaps, it was time to show them how much of a monster she could be, if they were so unhappy before.

Gravel flew under the wheels of Bailey's beaten up Toyota Corolla, sending little pebbles to bang noisily against the bumper and the stone flower beds surrounding the driveway to a large two-story mansion. Two cars stood in from of it with two men leaning each against their own vehicle.

The shorter figure was well-dressed, suit obviously bespoke and expensive, sunglasses reflecting the headlights of her Toyota even from a distance away. The taller figure stood out with familiarity, a lit cigarette freely dangling between the finger of his gesturing hand - Dr. Strange and his long, sculpted legs, Bailey could recognise even from a mile away.

Bruce parked, killing the engine and exiting the car with a free, lopsided grin carelessly thrown in Bailey's direction. Fumbling with the lock of her seatbelt, the woman's eyes latched onto the figure of her soulmate eagerly embracing the shorter man, their reunion evidently long-awaited and happy. Stephen's coarse laugh penetrated the interior of the car as the wacky passenger side seatbelt finally let Bailey free.

Three pairs of eyes bore into her body still wearing the scrubs from the hospital - one laughing, Strange was amused; one curious - none other than Tony Stark and his shameless smirk had made an appearance at their first getaway destination; and Bruce, looking so damn proud and lovesick. The grin tugged at Bailey's lips as the presence of the other men barely registered in her elevetaed emotional state.

"Damn, Brucie-bear, lucky you," Tony Stark wolf-whistled, clapping the doctor on the shoulder and receiving a fond eyeroll in return. Those two really were good friends. "Well, I won't hold you two back from getting to know each other better," Stark wiggled his eyebrows salaciously. "We can talk business tomorrow," with that, Stark waltzed over to Bailey, snatching the keys to her car out of her hands with a quick flick of his wrist. "Can't have a car allegedly containing a runaway prisoner on my property, now can I? Don't worry, babycakes, my people will take care of it. Bruce is family. You better treat him well, or else," the river of words flowed from Tony's mouth, causing the surprised Bailey to simply freeze in place and withstand his rambling, surrounded by the smell of whiskey and Stark's expensive cologne.

Despite his easy tone and the relaxed demeanor, Bailey knew a dangerous man when saw one. Tony Stark was not to be fucked with. "Yeah," she mumbled, scampering for the trunk to take out the duffle bag she carried around everywhere - just in case. Just in case her serial-killing, incarcerated-for-life soulmate would somehow found his way to her.

Tony looked at the spectacle with amusement. "You won't need your ID, sweetheart. All of that is going to be taken care of, don't worry your pretty little head about it."

"Duly noted," Bailey couldn't help the annoyed frown at Tony's frivolousness. Her government ID was the last thing on her mind. She wasn't stupid, she knew her mother would go to the cops as soon as she saw the news. "I have my own business to attend to. Might need a hand," the realization came with the dull thud of the trunk being slammed shut.

Tony's eyebrows rose; Bruce approached her with caution, wrapping an arm around her waist from behind. "Is it urgent?"

"Her mother knows about their connection," Strange piped up, glowing ember of the cigarette flying somewhere over the car. The sound of a lighter followed immediately, another dot of shiny red standing out in the twilight. "Don't worry, Bailey, she's detained and sedated for the time being," he offered with a crooked smirk, nearly no trace of the quiet man who bandaged her boo-boos when she was a child.

"You planned this," Bailey observed, fighting the dread crawling up her spine. The realization - she will never step back, will never be able to escape this life - set in. She was unprepared, having acted on a whim, prepared to live on the run but not within an arm's reach of her previous life yet unable to resume it.

"A long time ago," Strange nodded. "You always were a clever girl, Bailey. It is delightful to finally you where you belong," he smiled at Bruce in earnest.

Bailey wondered what else was going on in the sleepy town of hers. What kind of atrocities were committed daily under her nose, by the very people she knew and trusted. There was so much evil in this world.

But not Bruce. He could never be evil, even as he cut the hearts out of the men that had been treating those around them as objects. Bruce merely made them what they should've been; the greed, the infidelity - what use did those men have for their hearts? The Doctor was merciful and true: he never caused his patients undue pain and always, always left them in a state they were true to themselves. It wasn't his fault so many of his patients were heartless beasts for men.

Those clever hands, the same hands that brought the world at his feet, brought Bailey at his - voluntarily so. Their bodies hot, impatient for each other, with their blood singing a song of lust and longing, both of them hidden from the world by the heavy velvet curtains of Tony's estate - it was hellfire in heaven.

No amount of time too long as Bruce's teeth closed around Bailey's jugular, sinking into the flesh tenderly, all the while her nails penetrated the skin of his back; both drew blood, content to drown in it and wash their sins away with it. Heaven and Hell were merely words for the two, anyway.

Bruce Banner taglist:

@couldntbedamned @mikariell95 @letsby @sleep-i-ness @toomanyrobins @mostly-marvel-musings @persephonehemingway @schemefrenzy @lillsxd @bluecrazedandbeautiful @slothspaghettiwrites @pilloclock @sapphicnoodle69

[popcorn-kitten]

AITA? i stole my crush's cat (not as bad as it sounds)

Rating: M

Warnings: crass language, unhealthy romanticization, injuries mentioned

Pairing: peter/you, peter/reader

Summary: When Peter had finally approached you, your response wasn't what he'd wanted. And then being snubbed a second time had only fueled the fire to win you over. And to do so he'd have to get a little creative. But but but - it's for love! He knows what he's doing, and it's all for you!

Read on ao3

Pets were important, Peter knew this intimately. John Wick’s response had been more than justified. If anything happened to his beloved Rat there was no telling what his reaction would be. And Peter knew how much your cat meant to you.

He’d often found himself struggling with misplaced jealousy when seeing the creature sleeping peacefully on your chest, unable to let go of the thought that it should be him in that space. He’d watched with envy as your perfect fingers stroked the cat’s fur and melted at the thought of you touching him like that

Peter knew it was silly; who gets jealous of a cat? But he couldn’t always stop the feelings, and his psychiatrist had told him all his feelings were valid, furthering the justification in his mind of what he had to do.

He’d spent the better half of the last few months becoming acquainted with your feline companion (while also looking over you, of course.) And he had to admit, he’d grown rather fond of the fuzzy thing.

Which was a change, as the first few nights Peter had tried to come into your room was borderline disastrous. The cat hissed loudly when Peter had finally slipped through your window, causing him to lose his grip and fall backward, landing hard on the ground, ass first.

Peter had been terrified it had awoken you and cautiously he peeked up. Delight filled him to see you’d merely turned in your sleep. God, you looked amazing even when just lying still and breathing. Peter had been pulled out of his stupefied staring by a deep growl coming from below the window sill on your side.

He hadn’t thought to prepare for the pet and cursed himself for the stupidity. If he was going to show you the two of you were meant to be then he had to be more thoughtful. More precise in each move he made.

Slowly Peter held his hand out to the beast for it to sniff him. The cat was still heckled and guarded as it did so, Peter screwed his eyes shut internally prepared for a bite or claws but had been pleasantly surprised when none came. He slowly opened one eye and found the cat had not only found him to not be a threat, but boring as it had trotted off and out of the room entirely.

After that first night, Peter came prepared. He’d spent a little time searching the house for the cat treats. He peered at the options trying to memorize some to bring in the future but was shocked again when something brushed against his leg. Peter bit down on his tongue to keep from yelping and looked down. Wide-eyed he saw your cat rubbing against his leg, purring, and staring intently at the treat shelf Peter had been inspecting.

Peter grinned as he took the hint and opened one of the bags, your cat mewed at him and looped between his ankles a few times. Peter smiled at the small creature and pulled out a handful of the treats. Kneeling, Peter allowed the cat to eat directly from his hand, as it purred. Peter’s heart melted at the feeling of the rough tongue against his palm. He’d never been licked by a cat before.

Peter knew that the transition of you living with him would be easier with your pet and that you’d trust him more if your cat already loved him.

And thus, every night, Peter would be sure to bring treats to keep your cat occupied and work towards ingratiating himself to it. Some nights, while holding you in your deep sleep, the cat would curl up with you both. Peter smiled at the domesticity of it and imagined this is what your lives would be like soon. Peaceful, full of love and closeness…

But things hadn’t gone the way he’d wanted them to with meeting you. You’d been repulsed by him. It hurt.

But but but-

He knew better than to give up. He was made for you. You were made for him. You needed him. He just had to help you see that.

And so, a scheme was hatched.

Your cat was easy enough to catch. It’d learned to trust him and had no issue with him picking it up. However, problems arose once the carrier was brought into the picture. The once docile animal hissed like it had the first time Peter had come by, but this time the sound was accompanied by claws, teeth, and a spine that could twist in any direction.

Peter flinched each time the cat’s defenses broke his skin but he had to keep a straight face, he had to keep going. He had to do this. For both of you.

It was by pure fluke he managed to wrangle the animal into the plastic carrier. A sigh of relief left him as the cat continued to hiss and bat at the side of its containment.

“You’ll be out soon, don’t be so scared,” Peter muttered, trying to keep his tone reassuring.

Peter slipped several treats into the slats, hoping to calm the furry thing. He was disappointed to see there was no change in the cat’s demeanor.

The next obstacle came with where to keep the cat. He knew he had to bring it to his place and try to figure out a room to put it in that it couldn’t escape. He’d have to try not to leave it alone for too long. But he also couldn’t miss out on time watching you. He was already putting you in too much danger with having to drive home and back. Peter grumbled to himself while internally trying to figure out a schedule that would work.

The thought of you being alone without him to watch out for and protect you was almost enough to make him change his mind. But the memory of your face scrunched with confusion and and and- no, he wouldn’t think about it. After this, your eyes would always be filled with love for him.

That was the thought he had to cling to as he drove for 3 hours, your cat yowling and making all manner of terrifying noises the whole trip. It didn’t help that he had to make a pitstop to get all the materials needed for the cat.

A litter box, identical to the one you owned. Food and dishes, the same brand of wet and dry. The store didn’t have your cute plates, so generic ones would have to do. A couple of toys to keep the thing occupied, and one bag of litter for the next week.

Upon his arrival home, Peter was quick to get your whimpering cat inside and hopefully quieted down. He’d hurriedly cleaned out some of the items in his recording room so the cat couldn’t ruin it. He’d seen the way it chewed your cords in the middle of the night.

Once satisfied he ran back out to his van, collecting and bringing all the needed items back into the house. He closed the door of the room and opened the carrier while hastily setting up all the things he’d bought.

Satisfied he turned and was surprised to see the cat still in the carrier, pressed as far against the back as it could be. Peter tsk’d and put a hand in to try and coax it out, only to be bit once again.

Peter shouted and pulled his now bleeding hand out, glaring at the carrier. He stuck the bleeding finger into his mouth. It wouldn’t be helpful to return your cat in bad health. Or for it to be completely traumatized and hating him. It would unravel the whole point of this!

Peter slipped out of the room so he could think clearer. His eyes scanned the area and fell on the door leading to The Shrine. Peter pulled his finger out of his mouth only to bite his cheek and he mulled it over. Yes, taking some of your things off The Shrine and putting them in the other room would help your cat. BUT that also meant things from The Shrine smelling like your cat instead of you.

He closed his eyes and imagined your face upon him bringing back your beloved animal after a week of worrying and how thankful you’d be. What you’d owe him. He’d wave you off of course ‘no-no, really I’m just glad it’s safe now.’ He smiled to himself thinking of how impressed you’d be with him. How awe-struck you'd be with how comfortable your cat was with him.

Peter huffed a final time before deciding to grab ONE shirt from The Shrine for your cat, but that was it!

The choice of which shirt, however, was harder than he’d thought it’d be. Each one smelled like you. Each one had looked so damn cute on you! Each one was special and parting was nearly impossible. Almost as impossible as ignoring the hard-on he’d achieved while sniffing your clothes again.

He couldn’t help it though.

You’d understand.

You were irresistible.

Peter let a hand trail down his chest, eyes closed, imagining it was your fingers. You were rewarding him. He’d been so good, so amazing to return your cat to you. So sweet to demand nothing in return. So...

Peter hissed as his watch alarm blared, bringing him from his fantasy and reminding him he had to leave now if he wanted to walk you home…from a distance.

Peter cursed quietly at the situation and grabbed a shirt at random, trying hard not to think about it as he quickly tossed the fabric into the room with your cat. He’d have to check on it later, he was already running late.

The next few days for you and him were agony.

Peter watched from afar, heartbroken, as you desperately searched for your cat. The first night had been the hardest. He’d arrived just in time to watch you enter your room. He smiled as you went about your usual evening post-shift. You’d come in, remove your clothes (Peter would watch with rapt attention), grab a clean set and a towel before going for a shower.

This was normally the time Peter would let himself in if he was feeling bold, but tonight he knew it wouldn’t be smart. You’d want to look in the closet after all, once you realize your beloved pet was missing.

And notice you did. Peter watched from his spot as you wandered in and out of the room, a confused look on your face (God even that was adorable). You looked under your bed, the closet – as he’d suspected, through your laundry pile, and then to the rest of your apartment. Peter stayed still and listened to your footsteps as much as he could.

But the sound was lost once you started calling out for your cat, shaking the treat bag that usually summoned them. Peter heard the worry in your voice as your calls got more frantic. He slunk along the wall and under your good for nothing roommate’s window to see if he could hear anything else. He was lucky enough to be graced with your voice asking Lucy if she’d seen your pet.

Peter flinched as he heard your worried voice explaining that you couldn’t find them. It was hard to hear you so panicked, but he knew it would be worth it in the end.

But then that whore bitch offered to go out looking with you. Peter growled and clenched his jaw in anger. He hadn’t thought of that. Of that useless drug-addled cunt getting to stay close to you, console you in the middle of the night. That should be HIM.

But but but-

He had to be patient. He knew what he was doing. You were made for him. He was made for you. You would be his.

So, Peter watched. He watched as you and Lucy searched the surrounding area and held himself back from slitting her throat when she put an arm around your shoulder as you cried. He grounded himself in that sound. In your pain that he would be ending soon. He reveled with the knowledge that as soon as you were together, he’d never have to hear you cry like that again.

Once you were finally home it took you ages to fall asleep. Peter seized his chance and curled himself around you. His hand caressed your still damp cheek where he placed a chaste kiss.

“Don’t worry, darling. Everything is going to be alright.” He whispered, burying his face in your hair and inhaling the scent deeply. Time together was short however and Peter slipped out your window before your alarm startled you awake.

Peter again watched. He saw your disgusting coworker hug you as you explained your situation. Peter growled but didn’t move. Soon though, you’d be the one wrapping your arms around him…

Peter watched you spend your break creating a flier to start hanging up during your break. He was impressed by how nicely you made it look! You were so creative! So good with your hands!

Hours later Peter followed as you went into the local Kinkos. After half an hour you came out with a stack of papers and a staple gun.

Peter scowled slightly, that was a lot of extra money for you to spend. He’d make sure to leave some extra money around for you to ‘find’ next time you did laundry as a way to make it up for you…

And so, the week went on.

-

You handed out and hung up all the fliers you’d been able to afford. TK and Lucy had been nice enough to help spread your social media posts, and even your grumpy landlord allowed you to hang up 1 (one) flier on the building’s main entrance. You’d passed out other fliers to the tenants individually too, just to be sure.

If your job had been hard before it was worse now. Your every waking thought was of your missing pet. They weren’t an outdoor cat and you couldn’t imagine how it’d be surviving. It was a little stupid and you doubted it’d be able to hold its own in a hunt let alone a fight.

God what if your cat got into an alleyway brawl? They’d be torn to pieces!

What if they’d eaten some bad plants? What if they were sick??

What if someone took them? And they would never return it to you because they’d fallen in love with it?!!

A million scenarios ran through your head, each worse than the last. You were going crazy and couldn’t focus on anything but looking for your cat. Every time your phone rang you would answer instantly hoping for good news but were continually let down.

Until the call you’d been waiting for finally came. You’d answered the phone quickly as had become your new habit and breathed a short acknowledgement to the person on the other end of the line.

The caller’s voice was shaky and hesitant, taking a moment after your greeting to speak. “H-hi, hi sorry is this uh…is this Y/N?”

The voice was deep and somewhat familiar. You frown thinking this may be someone’s number you didn’t have saved instead of news about your pet.

“I’ve seen your posters around for your missing cat?”

You instantly perk up, waiting for them to continue. The person pauses and the length of the silence almost kills you. Your response is still hopeful as you prompt them to continue with a, “Yes? You found them?”

A chuckle comes from the other end and something about it sends a shiver down your spine. “I think so, at least it looks like the picture…I was in the park when I grabbed it.” The initial hesitancy in their voice seems to dissipate more with each word. Confidence takes over in their tone. “I’m here with your cat now. Can we meet in the parking lot?”

“Yes!” You shout your response. You’d already jumped up from your spot and were quickly putting on your shoes while grabbing your wallet and keys. You were so lucky you weren't working right now! “I’m on my way! I’ll be there in five minutes! Thank you! Thank you so much!” You hang up and burst into a full-on sprint towards the park.

You cross into the parking lot and whip your head around, looking for any sign of who may have your cat. You hear a ‘Hey!’ from your left and turn quickly towards a waving figure.

A very familiar waving figure.

Another shiver ran down your spine; your emotions were in a flurry at the moment. You could see in his arms was your cat. You were relieved, excited, weepy. And yet there was a tug of apprehension as well as fear at recognizing the face of your cat’s savior.

The guy from the bench! From the flower shop! The weirdo who said he was your boyfriend before he actually asked you out.

You’re face to face before you’ve figured out your strategy and choose to focus on the matter at hand; your cat.

Your shoulders relaxed as you laid eyes on what was for sure your missing pet. They’re comfortably curled in the man’s arms and look remarkably relaxed. This is a shock as your cat, while never mean, had not cuddled with anyone but yourself...ever!

Your eyes finally meet, and he smiles at you. He’s blushing as he looks at you, and you can’t help but find it kind of cute in a weird way. You’d been put off the last time he had approached you, but there was something different now. Maybe it was how comfortable your cat looked with him, or how soft his eyes were as he stared at you.

“Oh, it’s you! I’m happy to see you again!” He beams at you for a moment before looking down at the furry bundle in his arms. “Sorry you had to worry about your cat but they seem fine!” He’s cheerful as he says this and readily hands your cat over.

You scoop your cat into your arms quickly; the small thing meows loudly and stands unsteadily on your arms to lick your face. You clutch it tightly to you, sniffling as tears started welling in your eyes. You were so happy they were ok! They seemed to be ok at least.

It was hard to pull them away but you had to do a quick once over. There were no visible marks or cuts, no matted fur, but some dirt and leaf remnants. You quickly brushed those off and went back to burying your face in the soft familiar fur while your cat continued to lick you.

It’d only been a week since your cat had gone missing but the time spent on it, the money, and the energy made it feel like it’d been months. Your cat purred loudly and pawed at you for your undivided attention.

Which is hard to deny, you pet your cat fervently while leaving kisses on its soft little head. You quietly cooed to them as they rubbed their face against you, marking you with their scent. Your tears have stopped and you can’t stop smiling, no matter how badly your cheeks hurt from it.

You don’t look up to see the man’s face. You don’t see the expression of pure adoration, the intensity with which he watches you. His cheeks flush as he imagines pulling you against him to wipe away your tears. To bring his damp fingers to his lips. To sample you at your most vulnerable. Would the tears of joy have a different taste than your tears of sorrow?

Peter had to take a deep breath to steady himself. He was losing focus and losing that could mean losing you.

When you looked up his expression had melted back into a casual smile. You thank him profusely and hold your cat with one arm while reaching for your wallet with your other hand.

His brow furrows as he watches you try to balance your cat and dig in your pockets. “What are you doing?” He asks.

You don’t look up as you respond, “Well, there was a reward and you brought them home so I have to re-”

“No, you don’t!” He all but shouts. You look up in surprise and see his face flush again as he quiets his voice. “What I mean is, you know, what kind of person would I be expecting a reward for doing the right thing?” His words trail off and he looks away as though expecting to be reprimanded.

“O-oh” Now you’re the one blushing. You’d been caught off guard with such an unexpected and intense response. You clear your throat and try to tame your warm face before muttering out, “Well, I mean I have to do something to thank you.” You insist. Your cat continues purring as you bury your fingers in their fur, suddenly feeling nervous about the response you’d get.

The tall stranger hums and closes his eyes, fingers to his chin as though in thought. “Hmm…if you really want to you could…let me take you out to lunch?” His cocky tone returns but a moment later his eyes shoot open and he lifts his hands as though to show he’s got nothing up his sleeves.

“N-not as a date or anything! But as uh…friends?” His tone’s shy again and you can’t help but find it a little endearing seeing him become so flustered. And over you of all people. His hands drop and his face looks a little defeated as he mumbles out; “I-I really do like you and I want to get to know you, but I…I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable.”

You can’t help but smile and glance up at him, your cat is making biscuits against your arm. “I don’t think letting you buy me food counts as a reward…so how about I treat you to coffee sometime?”

Your counteroffer is met with a slack-jawed face for a moment. His lips quickly turn into a wide grin however as your words seem to sink into him. “Yes! Er I mean, yeah, yeah tha-that could work.” His hand rubs the back of his neck as he looks away from you, face burning red.

You chuckle and feel yourself relax more. Maybe your initial nervousness about him was wrong. You take a step closer to get him to look at you again, it only takes a second before he’s at full attention.

“My schedule gets a little crazy. You have my number now so text me aaaand…we’ll figure something out?" Your voice takes on an uncharacteristically flirty tone and it’s rewarded with his blush spreading to his ears and neck.

He nods once and opens his mouth, as if to speak, but closes it and nods a second time. “I would like that.” He whispered, smiling dumbly.

You grin and nod, “It’s a date then.” You don’t wait for him to say anything as you turn to go. You’d been purposeful in your wording and hoped that any ill feelings he may have developed from your coldness when you’d first met had been lost.

But right now, you need to get your cat home, cleaned up, and in for a vet check ASAP. You began walking towards your place but stopped to shoot another smile at the tall stranger who waves as you walk out of eyesight.

Peter lets out a relieved sigh, a dopey smile on his face as he waits another few seconds before following behind his future spouse. He couldn’t wait to let you take him out.

[rekrappeter]

my angel, my darling

pairing: pope heyward x reader

summary: pope and y/n always find themselves paired up when things go wrong. 

warnings: mention of bad relationship with parents, crying, fluff, mentions of violence i think, typos

notes: in honor of day 1 of Pope Heyward Appreciation week. thank you to @popeheywards​ for organising a week to bless us all with amazing content. 

Growing up on the side of the island that was notorious for being rich, stable, obnoxious was tough for you. You spent your childhood trying to fit in with people that cared too much about how they looked and how they were going to get their hands on the new Gucci bag, despite there being people on the island that didn’t know when their next meal was going to be or worrying about how they were going to pay their electricity bill that month. And when you gave up trying to pretend to be someone you’re not, you found the comfort in the presence of Kiara Carrera and her gang of friends. 

The moment that they were in full agreement of you joining their gang, a weight was lifted off your shoulders. You could be who you truly wanted to be, you didn’t have to draw a false smile on your face around the pogues - they accepted you for who you were. Two years passed by in their company, two years of you finding yourself and living life with new adventures every day. Life was never boring with them, they always found something interesting to keep you there. 

It’s how you found yourself running through an abandoned house, jumping through the broken windows despite the bellows of the sheriff chasing after you. A wicked laugh left your lips, your legs moving as fast as they could as you hoisted yourself over the back wall, running off into the darkness. You lost sight of the other pogues, reassuring yourself that they probably just went a different direction. You continued hopping through the backyards until someone caught your eye in a treehouse in one of them. 

“Oi, batman,” you hissed up, seeing Pope peek his head from the wooden house. Scanning the area quickly and hearing no sudden movements in the darkness, you hoisted yourself into some little child’s treehouse, grinning at one of your best friends. His chest was rapidly heaving, he was trying to catch his breath from running so fast. Sweat was dripping down his forehead, his eyes wide. 

“That was a thrill,” Pope said once he finally caught his breath, resting his back against the wooden wall. You sat across from him, your legs stretching over his long limbs. He absentmindedly reached to redo the laces of your Converses that were coming undone and you smiled gratefully at him. “If it weren’t for JJ, we wouldn’t have to run so much.”

“The last thing we need is for one of us to be locked up.”

“Then maybe we should stop doing stupid shit,” Pope laughed. 

You raised a knowing brow at him, smirking when his hand brushed up and down your calves. “How come it’s always us stuck hiding?” 

“We’re the smart ones.” You smiled at his words, spending the rest of the evening delving into conversations about absolutely nothing and absolutely everything. These were the moments you lived for, the moments that were so simple but yet meant everything to you. There was no doubt that you were falling in love with Pope Heyward, ever since you were formally introduced to him by Kie, you were infatuated with him. You held onto every single word and fact he spoke. There were times you had to be nudged by Kie to stop staring at him, but you couldn’t help yourself. He was so beautiful, and over the last year, he started growing out his facial hair, and just when you thought you were handling yourself well, it all came crashing down when he entered the Chateau with a mustache. JJ made fun of him, John B joined when he calmed his laughter, but you couldn’t say anything. You couldn’t trust your voice in fear that you’d just melt. 

Three days after the evening in the treehouse, you were storming out of your house with a bag full of clothes thrown over your bag. Your father’s voice followed your figure, the profanities dripping from his tongue with ease. You blocked them out, tears streaming down your cheeks. The sound of the front door slamming shut made you jump, but you didn’t look back. There was one place you could go where you knew you’d be welcomed with open arms, but you weren’t in the mood for questions. You found yourself walking towards Heyward’s, knowing Pope was working today. Out of the four friends you had, he’d be the one that would just let you sit there in silence. 

You stood by the store, leaning against a pillar, and watched Pope load up the boat, smiling and chatting with his father. Mr. Heyward’s eyes looked over Pope’s shoulder, nodding his head in the direction. Pope glanced at you, his smile faltering as he rushed over to you. He didn’t have to say anything, he wrapped his arms around your body and you collapsed into his chest. “Hey, it’s okay,” he mumbled into your hair, flattening it down. You immediately felt better, Pope Heyward was your safe place. 

There was nothing more beautiful than the sight in front of you, you were sure of it. You were sitting at the back of the boat, your eyes red and puffy from crying moments before, watching Pope with his hat on backward and a lazy smile on his face as he drove the boat down the river. He had held you for as long as possible at the shop until he realized that there were unfortunately groceries to be delivered. You told him you’d see him back at The Chateau, but he just grabbed your hand and walked you to the boat. He grabbed a blanket from the store and draped it over your legs, you didn’t care that it was warm outside, it made you feel better. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” he simply asked and when you shook your head, he left the conversation there. He didn’t ponder or pounce on you to tell him what happened, and you appreciated it. When the day slowly drifted into the evening time, the blue sky is painted with pink and yellow brushes, he returns to the store to finish last-minute business but he keeps you by his side. 

“Thank you, Pope,” you lean over the counter, watching him count the money. He looks up at you, a small smile on his face, “I mean it, you’re the best.” 

“You know you can come to me whenever you need to,” Pope goes back to counting the money, and you just stay there and watch him. You don’t know if he noticed, his eyes flickering between the money and the sheet of paper, but you weren’t hiding it at this point. You looked at him with love and adoration, but yet, you still did nothing about it. 

The weeks pass by as you crash in John B’s house, intermittently changing between the spare bedroom and the couch. It was nearing midday and you were laying on the bed, playing with your phone when the door came crashing open and Pope slammed it closed behind him, locking it in the process. You jolted from the bed, eyes wide as he tried to catch his breath. 

“What’s going on?” you asked, wanting to find humour in his current state but there was no time for that. He grasped your wrist, pulling you from the bed and towards the window. You were very grateful that you decided to wear shorts last night, instead of your usual attire of an oversized shirt and panties. “Pope, what’s going on?”

“JJ got into some trouble and there are people on their way here, right now,” Pope breathed out, lifting the window open and helping you out it. Pope could have just mentioned JJ and trouble, and you’d follow his lead without a full explanation. You scanned the area, seeing a red pickup truck speeding towards the Chateau. It was still far enough that you could still make a quick escape as you followed Pope towards the water. 

Pope ran down the deck, diving messily into the water. “W-what are you doing?” you called after his figure. You looked over the gone off wood, seeing him holding himself underneath the deck. 

“John B took the HMS pogue out earlier, he’ll collect us, just get in and hide.” You looked over your shoulder, seeing the truck pull up behind the trees hiding your body. Without another second of hesitation, you dived into the cold water, muffling a moan with your hand. Pope reached out for your body, using his arm to hold you both up underneath the deck. He had his arm wrapped around your waist, his chest flushed against yours. “Somehow, I always seem to end up here. With you,” you chuckled, feeling your arms getting tired from keeping you above the water so you wrapped them around Pope’s shoulders, waiting for him to protest. 

“And yet, we’re still alive. We must make a good team,” he replied, his eyes calming when they flickered to your face. He didn’t realise how close you were until his nose brushed awkwardly against yours. “Sorry,” he mumbled, trying to not make it obvious that his eyes jumped down to your lips and back to your eyes. 

“I-It’s okay,” you suck in your bottom lip, your breathing becoming uneven. “Do you think we make a good team?” 

“Of course,” Pope smiled, blinking away the water that dripped from his eyebrow. You weren’t sure if it was because you were so close to him right now that your brain decided to stop working but you couldn’t stop yourself when you closed the gap between your lips. You caught his lips off guard, they were wet but yet so soft. When seconds past and he didn’t move, you pulled away from him, muttering a long spiel of apologies. “W-What was that?” Pope asked, interrupting you. 

“I don’t know, a kiss!” you groaned, your eyes screwed shut. 

“A kiss?! You decided to kiss me when there are people up there that want to kill us..” 

“I’m sorry, okay? Just forget about it,” you retorted, trying to push your body away from his but his grip tightened. When your eyes opened back up, a small smile was resting on his lips but it was overwhelmed with wide eyes and furrowed brows. 

“I- y/n, I don’t want to forget about it, it’s just you couldn’t have picked a worse time.” The sound of Pope’s laughter made any ounce of worry settle in your stomach. You reached up to his face, brushing the salt water away from his cheeks. 

“So you wouldn’t mind if I did that another time? A better time?” 

“Definitely not.”