#the salaried guy came in and dropped all his stuff on the floor and had a go at the other managers they were... busy

[elibeeline]

Guys i think i hate 5.30am starts

[rcksmith]

Be mine — Roman Godfrey

Requests: “Helloo, I would like to request an imagine of roman Godfrey with smut prompt 28”

“Hii, omg I lover your work!! Can you do fluff prompts 45 and 59 and smut prompts 32 whit Roman Godfrey? Thank you, love💖”

Fluff prompts:

45. “where have you been all my life?”

59. “Are you flirting with me?” “You finally noticed?”

Smut prompts:

28. “Such a needy little thing, aren’t you?”

32. “I’m going to show you what a real fucking is.”

A/N: I was excited about these request for Roman, I loved it. I hope you guys like.

English is not my first language, so I so sorry if have a mistake.

Requests are open. Love you ❤️

Couple: Roman Godfrey/ Fem! Reader.

Warnings: Swearing, explicit smut, NSFW, degradation, dirty talk and also fluff too.

— — — — —

The big white and airy room tried to show a soothing and safe energy, the light tones contrasted with the golden rays of the sun outside and could even try to show a lyrical vibe. Could, if not for everything else.

It was hard to pinpoint the source that messed up that whole idea of ​​peace that the colors on the walls had, but maybe it was because Godfrey Industries was... oblique, mysterious, sinister. There was something in the air, a dark breeze that echoed all the floors of that gigantic building, bringing the feeling that something was out of place. It was, at times, disconcerting. Like looking at a perfect painting but knowing that something is out of place. Or to witness the seconds of frightening calm before a major disaster. But as the months went by, you had to get used to it and adapt to it. Your daydreams wandered far away. You wondered what you were doing there, in that country town that also had that sinister energy.

Why you left Los Angles? Okay, did you know why. After finishing college, you sent out resumes to as many companies as you could. Its from that time when you realize that adult life has knocked on the door and that the cost of living in California was too high. The plan, when you left home to pursue your dream and go to college in another state, was to get a job as soon as possible. But some things got out of your control, and when you realized it, you had graduated and you didn't have enough money to come up with second plans.

So, when the multinational Godfrey Industries called you after an interview and gave you the job, you didn't hesitate. The salary was too good for a international negotiations assistant, and after a while you could breathe easier, and be able to straighten out your financial life and have a better resume to be able to get back to a big city.

It was a good plan, a rational plan. You were proud of that. But it was logical that too much confidence was accompanied by some ruin.

And its ruin came under the name of Roman Godfrey.

Roman was swallowed all the air in any the room when he entered, as if its imposing presence subdued any environment. Everything about him exuded the same objective: to conquer, to possess, to win. He was the Trojan army. But the worst and the most dangerous was not his difficult personality, but how you felt close to him. How his presence caused side effects on you.

He was absolutely gorgeous. It should be considered illegal for someone to have that appearance, that voice, that sinisterly penetrating look. You felt that Roman Godfrey had the aura of intense and exciting music, like the song of danger.

He was the personification of sin, and you were being tested by the universe.

The trinity of what could be a gigantic disaster was completed when, a few months ago, Roman started testing you, joining the universe in what appeared to be a plan to slaughter your sanity.

It was your first meeting with the Company a few weeks after you was hired. Adam, the director of the international negotiations sector, for whom you are an assistant, asked you to bring all the documents of the process and remain in the meeting. It was about an international multi who wanted to buy some equipment from Godfrey Industries, but who were working hard to try to close deals at a lower price.

As you handed a copy of the negotiation to each sector director in that room, you felt a pair of eyes burning the back of your neck the whole time, like your shadow. The caustic sensation ruffled all the hair on the back of your neck, snaking from head to toe and made you search the environment behind the author.

That's when you finding him.

Roman had the green irises stuck to you like a tattoo on your skin. As if unraveling all your secrets, your sins, virtues and all your thoughts. It was intense, magnetic... dangerous.

You felt the white walls of that room were embraced by a black and dark shadow, and the air became thin. Then he smiled. A smug and arrogant little smile. The kind who won a battle.

It had been the beginning of a sequence of events. Roman began to request and make sure that you were present at all meetings, negotiations, cases, even when your presence added much more to your professional knowledge than to contribute to the resolution of company problems. At that time the order was still not directed at you, Adam just told you that Godfrey wanted you at meetings.

It was strange, atypical, almost surreal. You used to go into the conference room and look directly at Roman, frowning in silent questioning at him. But he never gave you an answer. He just gave that smug smile and turned his attention to the big screen in the living room.

This happened five times before Roman sent to tell you that he wanted to see you in his office.

“But why?!" You frowned at Adam.

The man looked at you for a second before shrugging.

“Your work has been impeccable, I think he just wants to give you more things to do.” Adam kept his eyes on the documents themselves.

"But you are my boss.” Sometimes you had a habit of saying what you thought without considering the consequences.

Your mother and your friends said that you had a total inability to hide what you felt, to be someone reserved or shy. You were almost always the person who said everything you felt.

Adam laughed softly, already used to your personality and turned his eyes to you.

“And he is my boss."

You restrained yourself from rolling your eyes. The truth was, you didn't want to find him. Roman puzzled you, messed with your system. And after those 5 meetings without explaining why you were there, you started to want to avoid his presence.

But apparently the universe was not on your side this time.

You got up and excused yourself, listening to your own heels echoing down the hall before entering the elevator and pressing the last button. Going to Godfrey's office.

Anxiety coursed through your veins like overwhelming electricity, making you sway on your heels and stir your fingers.

What did he want with you? Had you done something? Was he crazy?

You sucked in the air hard, shrugging your shoulders to relax when the door opened up. You walked for a while before stopping at Roman's office and knocking on the door with your finger.

“Come in." The voice made your heart skip a few beats.

You walked in, closing the door behind you and laying your eyes on the tall, slender figure who was sitting behind the table, dressed in black pieces and a small smile.

“Did you want to see me, Mr.Godfrey ?"

Maybe it was your imagination or your nervousness that was seeing things in between lines, but you could have sworn that Roman breathed harder after you said his last name.

You stopped in front of his desk, too agitated to sit on the chair.

“Yes, Darling.” He stood up, getting much bigger than you, even though your feet were in a 10 cm heel.

Roman fished a file on the table itself, bypassing the table and coming menacingly close to you. He stood in front of you again, his hip against the table and leaning there, holding out the file for you. You took seconds longer than you would like to pick up the papers, Roman's left leg was dangerously close to yours, the knee almost brushing your thigh covered by the black skirt.

“I need it ready by night."

That's when you came out of the trance, picking up the folder and staring at the amount of stuff there. It was a process about an agreement with a company in Asia, and it was so bureaucratic that it would take up your entire time. And you already had a million things for do.

“But...” You were about to start talking, but Roman moved away from the edge of the table, his chest hovering over yours.

You have never felt so small, so fragile and so vulnerable in your life. You had to lift your chin to face him straight.

“You are going to be a good girl and bring me this tonight.” It was not a request. “You will, right?”

Your common sense or decorum had gone somewhere. Maybe was lost in your own stupidity. The oxygen evaporated from your lungs. And before you could think of something diplomatic and good to say. Because you were not dumb. You heard yourself say:

“Yes, Mr. Godfrey.”

Fucking hell!

“Great.” He gave you a rewarding smile.

From that moment on events like this became routine. In fact, you tried to mask that you liked it, that it wasn't extremely unprofessional, that he was not only your boss, but also the owner of the entire company. Over time you learned to deal with him too, Roman was never brazen or touched you, he would drop some ‘Dear’ or ‘Pretty’ over and over here for you, but, truth be told, you didn’t get uncomfortable.

Perhaps it was your feminine vanity. You didn't want to be selfish, but having a man like Roman Godfrey praise you did wonders for your feminine vanity. You felt absurdly beautiful. He made you feel like the personification of the Female Fatal, and you liked that. So you would roll your eyes at him and give him some jokes smiles in his direction whenever these things happened.

You did not deny it, but you also do not return any praise.

Over the months you had practically become more of an assistant to Roman than to Adam. He kept you getting bogged down with things to do and telling Adam to pass on your old duties to any other goddamn person.

“They accept to close if they have had 30% of the profits.” You put your cell phone down to talk to Roman, who had his hip against the desk work and an open file in his hands.

“They must be stupid” he rolled his eyes “10% and I will still be being generous.”

You went back to your call, your eyes fixed on the top view of the city as you settled the deal.

“I can get them to close by 15% if we send the equipment by tomorrow.” You said to Roman again, plugging the cell phone microphone with your other hand “But it has to be send until the morning. Not next.”

Roman smiled broadly and satisfied, nodding his head in ‘Yes’ as you turned your attention to the city view and finished the negotiation. You were getting the details right when you felt a presence behind you, the heat radiating for your back and making you lose your breath for a second. You swallowed and tried to ignore something vibrating in your core, disconnecting the call as soon as you closed the deal.

“What would I do without you?” Roman's voice blew at the top of your ear, his ghostly touch fanning your skin.

You laughed to try to hide how much your core pulsed, turning around enough to face his completely.

"I don't know, you would have already lost four contracts.” You tried to joke, but he was absurdly close.

The scent of a man and an expensive cologne swallowed you like a wave and dragged you into the sea, drowning you. The emerald green eyes were fixed on you, as if they swallowed you.

“You could work for me.” Godfrey let go, taking another step closer to you.

Instinctively, you took a step back, your back finding the cold glass behind you and trapping you between the cold sensation and the absurd warmth of the man.

"I already work for you.” You said it as if it were obvious, letting out a nervous laugh and trying to clean up how much your uterus vibrated now.

“No, you work more with Adam.” He rolled his eyes, his hand now resting on your hip, rising to your waist like a snake “I speak of you being my assistant, being here when I arrive, spending the all days with me.”

Your heart screamed, your pussy throbbed so hard that if Roman hadn't paid attention to you, you would have bitten your lip.

“Are you flirting with me?”

"You finally noticed?"

There was no way to deny to yourself that you had already reached your share of perverted dreams with Roman Godfrey. He was like an addiction! It was unbearable how present he was always in your head, playing with your sanity, making you think of how those absurdly long fingers would fuck you so well, how those impeccable clothes hid a maddening body.

And that was exactly why you couldn't be him assistant.

If it was already overwhelmingly difficult to occasionally remain in him presence without diverting your thoughts, every day would be impossible. All the time. You would end up having to resign your job after, because any involvement between you would not result in a happy ending. Aside from being extremely unethical, it would end up destroying your heart, and God, you needed the job!

"M-Mr Godfrey." You tried to speak, touching his chest with the palm of your hand with the intention of gently pushing him away.

But the shot backfired. He was cold. Absurdly cold. Cold that makes you want to warm up, an addictive, that intoxicates you. Suddenly, you are already wondering if other parts of it would be cold too.

Would the kiss contain the beauty and temperature of the snow? When Roman entered you, would he be consumed by the heat of your needy walls? He Would it stick to you like a private sun?

“Pretty.” Godfrey sighed against your cheek, dangerously lowering his lips in your direction. “Why not stay with me? Where can I fuck you every day? ”

This time you moaned, a low moan that gave up all of your game. It lit a dangerous, vital fire in Roman's eyes, and him hand, which once touched you softly, now snaked into your waist, pulling you close.

“Do you like to hear that? That I want to fuck you until you scream?” You closed your fingers on him black dress shirt, closing your lip between your teeth to contain a groan.

Roman's mouth went to your neck, pouring wet, surprisingly hot kisses onto your skin.

"Would you like to know that I have imagined fucking you hard for a long time?” His hands went to the hem of your skirt. “That I want to tag you with my cum until you're just mine?"

“Mr.Go-Godfrey!” You moaned loudly, wrapping your arms around his neck and letting your head go back and lean against the glass wall.

“Tell me, Pretty.” He lifted his lips to hover over yours “Tell me you want this as much as I do.”

You frantically ascended your head, letting a 'Yes' leave with a low sob.

Thereafter Roman wasted no time. He pulled you onto his lap by your thighs, placing you under his desk and throwing all objects on the table with one arm. He kissed you. Furiously. He kissed you as if you were his property, as if you were the answer to all his prayers, his divinity. Your mouth opened to get air and Roman took the opportunity to invade with his tongue, hunting you.

You groaned, or he, or both.

"I'm going to show you what a real fucking is." Roman snarled against your mouth, not considering any consequences before popping all the buttons on your shirt with a two-handed tug, making you gasp.

That seemed to bring you back to Earth.

You pulled your chest away from him, and Roman looked up at you with a questioning expression.

“Ro-Roman, this is wrong.” you said.

“You have no idea how much I don’t give a fuck.” He leaned over to kiss you again, extremely excited by the sight of you in a lacy bra, but you averted your face by placing your hands on him chest.

You said. “I'm going to have to resign this job later if I do it, and I need the job.”

Romam snorted, straightening up again.

“Who says you need to resign? Did you forget that I am the owner of this crap?” He brought his lips to your neck once more, and you sighed softly “Be mine. Be mine."

“I don’t know.”

Romam held your face in his hands, in a gentle touch, which clashed absurdly with the lush fire in his eyes.

“I don't want to fuck you because you work here, but because I think you're fucking beautiful.” He said “Be mine, and if you don't want anything to do with me afterwards, that's okay, let's keep working normally.” Roman moved closer, his voice hitting your mouth “Let me fuck this hot pussy, I'm sure you'll want more later. And I will give you everything you want.”

So you gave in. You kissed him fiercely, spreading your legs wider and settling them between them, letting the skirt roll to pile on your hips and exposing lace panties. Roman reaching down to your back and removing your bra, dropping your mouth over your left breast when it was exposed.

You moaned loudly, throwing your head back, curling your fingers in his hair and sighing when Godfrey moved his fingers down the middle of your legs. You whimpered, rummaging around in his hand for some friction, needy and needy.

Roman laughed arrogantly against your breast: “Such a needy little thing, aren't you?” He took a bite out of your left beak as he walked away to remove his belt.

You groaned, your eyes on fire, your body hot and needy. And that's when Roman looked at you. A hot fucking woman half naked at his table, so beautiful and perfect that it was almost a sin. He wanted to be able to record that scene forever. You were perfect. He thought you were extraordinarily perfect.

Then he rushed ferociously at you again, his hands wrapped around your hot body as he moaned on your lips: "Where have you been all my life?"

You gasped, finishing the job of his belt and pants, fighting a battle with his tongue.

“Waiting for this moment.” You provoked it with a sensual chuckle, nibbling on his lower lip.

Roman shared your sly smile, tearing at your panties and holding his own dick in your direction. You moaned louder this time, in need, lowering your hands to his hips and rolling around his waist, trying to get closer.

Roman laughed, sinking his mouth into yours and also plunging his dick into yours smooth folds.

You screamed out loud, clasping your body to his while Roman put an arm around your waist, gluing your body to his and hitting the stick at the end of the well, drawing out a loud groan from both of you. The environment was filled with moaning and pornographic sounds, the table rattling beneath you as the things that were left on top now fell completely. You wrapped your arms around his neck, clenching your nails at the back of your neck as you wrapped your legs around Roman's hips, pulling him further into you and swallowing him completely.

“Holy fuck!” He snarled, lowering his mouth to meet your neck and shoulder, closing his teeth there as he demanded more force in his movements.

Godfrey beat without mercy, without pause, conquering and proclaiming his every piece of your body as his own. You could no longer control your moans, all the sensations exploded inside you like nuclear bombs and pleasure and pain curved all your lines of reasoning. You laid your back on the table, your breasts jumping with the speed and strength of him movements, while Roman clasped his hands on your waist and set a brighter pace as he pulled you onto his dick and propelled your hips at you.

“So fuck hot slut!” He growled, never stopping the pace.

You shouted something that looked like him name, and threw your head back when the orgasm invaded your system, shaking your legs and pulling him deeper. Roman moaned loudly, squeezing your flesh so tightly that it would leave marks tomorrow, while he cum inside you, spilling all the hot liquid on your barriers.

You were sweaty and panting, but Roman didn't give you a second to breathe and process the situation until he leaned over to you, still inside your core, and kissed your right breast, dropping one:

“Dinner at my place tomorrow?”

You laughed, still very airy, and agreed, overcome by tiredness.

“Okay, Godfrey.” Roman gave you another lunge of teasing, making your laugh mix with a groan.

[swan-of-sunrise]

Spellbinding (Chapter Seventeen)

Summary: A special anniversary of (Y/N) and Loki’s is fast approaching and after struggling to find her boyfriend the perfect gift, (Y/N) finally decides to do something life-changing for their special evening.

Pairing: Loki X Reader

Word Count: 3.1k

Warnings/Disclaimers: None

A/N: This chapter has so much fluff, so I hope that you enjoy!

Chapter Seventeen February 9th, 2016 Brooklyn, New York City (Previous Chapter)

Before her life as an Avenger, (Y/N) had never cared much for shopping. All of the money she earned as a trainee librarian was budgeted out for rent, bills and groceries and if there was somehow money left over after all of that, it all went to purchasing secondhand books for her growing collection. She simply didn’t have the luxury to go shopping for things she knew she didn’t need, but that all changed when she joined the Avengers. Since she was earning more money and not paying any bills, she decided to divide her salary into three sections; one section went into a savings account, the second went towards various organizations and charities, and the third she kept to spend however she liked. Independent shops and small businesses were her favorite places to visit, and it was at one such shop that (Y/N) decided to purchase her anniversary gift for Loki; the couple had decided to celebrate the anniversary of when they first met instead of when they’d finally become a couple, much to the bewilderment of their teammates.

“You know, doll, I’m still a little confused as to why you brought me along and not one of the others.” Bucky remarked, glancing around the cozy boutique with a raised brow. “It’s not that I don’t enjoy hanging out with you or anything, but…well, the Winter Soldier and shopping are two things that don’t really go together.”

(Y/N) gave him a good-natured shrug and began browsing. “Bucky, I asked you to come with me because you’re an incredibly perceptive person; you tend to see things that others might miss, and you have an uncanny ability to read people. And if I’m going to find the perfect anniversary gift for Loki before the 20th, then you’re one of the best to ask for a little help.”

“And you brought Tic-Tac along because…?”

They both glanced over at Scott, who was currently reading the dust-jacket of a magic trick how-to book across the boutique. “He wanted to hang out with us before flying back to San Francisco tomorrow.” Bucky shot her a look. “What?”

“Don’t you think Lang’s a little bit…annoying?”

“Not any more annoying than the rest of my teammates.” She playfully retorted and when he scoffed, she elaborated. “Apparently, you forgot the time when you and Clint scared the hell out of me by dropping down from the ceiling vent in my suite. That was my fourth day as an Avenger, if I remember correctly.”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “Okay, you’ve got a point there, but-”

“Hey, check out this book, guys!” Scott hurried over to them with a wide grin on his face. “Slight-of-hand magic tricks! I’ve always wanted to learn how to do that; I mean, it’s not real magic like your Light Elf kind, (Y/N), but I-” He winced and lowered his voice to a stage-whisper. “Sorry, that was kinda loud! You guys should really check this stuff out, though, c’mon!”

(Y/N) met the super soldier’s ‘I-told-you-so’ expression and gave her head a small shake before adjusting her glasses and following after Scott. “I swear, it’s like I’m surrounded by children…”

The trio spent the afternoon scouring shop after shop for the perfect anniversary gift but nothing stood out to them. Sensing her growing desperation, Bucky suggested they take a break at the nearest coffee shop and brainstorm a new plan.

“How is this so difficult?” (Y/N) groaned in frustration, resting her head in her hands as she stared dejectedly at her half-empty cup of hot chocolate. “I know Loki better than anyone else on the planet. Shouldn’t that make it easier for me to get him a gift?”

In her peripheral vision, she saw Bucky and Scott exchange matching looks of apprehension before Bucky replied, “Well…do you think that maybe you’re overthinking all this?” She glanced up at him, her brow furrowed in confusion. “From what I saw, you didn’t have any problems getting Loki a Christmas present. It was a book, right?”

“A first edition of Gods and Myths of Northern Europe; he’d always joked about all the silly ways Midgardians had interpreted his life, so I thought it would make a fun gift for his first real Christmas. But I can’t get him another book.”

Scott frowned. “Why not?”

“Because I would just be repeating myself, or making myself look like I’m not putting any effort into it.” (Y/N) sighed to herself. “All I want to do is show Loki how much I care about him and I feel like…I feel like nothing I do can ever properly convey that.”

All three of them sat in silence for several long moments until Scott suddenly spoke up. “You’ve gotta be kidding me, (Y/N). You show Loki how much you love him every single day!” Bucky looked over at Scott in surprise while (Y/N) shrugged half-heartedly. “I’m serious! You look at him like he’s the only guy in the world because in your eyes, he is. You know how many people would kill to have someone look at them that way? You’re the reason why a war criminal was able to turn his entire life around and become an Avenger; your love for him is what gave him the strength to believe that he could be a better man. Believe me, Loki knows exactly how much you love him; if you’re still dead-set on doing something special for your anniversary, though, a simple gesture could do a lot more than a superficial gift.”

Bucky let out a low whistle. “I didn’t know you were a goddamn poet, Lang.”

“I’m not a poet, I’m just a guy who spent a while in prison thinking about cheesy stuff like that.” Scott shrugged good-naturedly before turning back to (Y/N). “But you know what I’m trying to say, right?”

(Y/N) nodded, a slow smile spreading across her face. “I think I do, Scott. C’mon, you two, I know exactly where we’ve got to go!”

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

A week later, (Y/N) found herself standing in the tower’s elevator as it journeyed to the top floor, clutching Loki’s wrapped present in one hand as the other nervously fiddled with the skirt of her lilac cocktail dress. She’d picked out his gift with such confidence but when it came down to actually giving it to him…? Well, she might’ve had a small drink of liquid courage to calm her jittery nerves as she was getting ready for their date. Stop overthinking it, (Y/N) chided herself, taking a deep breath just as the elevator stopped and its metal doors slid open. There, with his back facing her, stood Loki; he was dressed in a tailored black suit, and his shaggy black locks were perfectly styled. When he turned around and smiled at her, (Y/N)’s heart skipped a beat and she was instantly reminded of the fateful day in the library when they’d first met.

“You look radiant, darling.” Loki took her hand as she stepped out of the elevator and pressed a kiss onto her knuckles before threading his fingers through hers. “I hope you’ve brought your appetite with you.”

“Well, I was training with Thor most of the day and he swiped my only protein bar, so…” Sharing a smile, they walked through the doorway of the ballroom and halted at the top of the stairs as (Y/N) gasped. “Oh, it looks beautiful, Loki!”

The ballroom was dimly lit, illumination primarily coming from the massive floor-to-ceiling windows and the candelabra resting on the small table in the middle of the room. The table was gorgeously set for two, with a silver dome covering each plate and an arrangement of lilacs near its center.

“I simply wanted our first anniversary to be both special and unique.” Loki shrugged noncommittally as they made their way down the marble steps, but her praise had caused his pale cheeks to redden slightly; he helped her into her chair before reaching for the silver dome’s handle and grinning. “And now, your favorite meal in all the Nine Realms…” Loki removed the dome with a flourish to reveal a plate laden with a cheeseburger and French fries and a large chocolate milkshake. “A charbroiled hamburger with sharp cheddar cheese and fresh-cut lettuce, a side of air-fried French fries and a homemade chocolate milkshake.”

(Y/N) beamed as he sat down across from her and removed the dome off his own plate. “Our first date at the diner. I seem to recall you thinking that the restaurant was overly-cheesy.”

He flashed her a lopsided grin. “And I still think that, of course, but I cannot deny that the cuisine and the company more than made up for it.”

The meal was more than delicious, and (Y/N) could honestly say that it was the best cheeseburger she’d ever had. As they ate, they talked about some of the novels they’d both recently read; their numerous Avenger duties sometimes meant that they couldn’t talk to one another as often as they wanted to, so it was nice that they were able to spend a quiet evening alone for a change. After they finished eating, (Y/N) and Loki moved to stand by the massive windows and watched the snow fall over the twinkling city skyline; it took a while, but she finally summoned her courage and suggested that they exchange presents.

“Oh Loki,” (Y/N) breathed, her gaze transfixed on the beautiful music box in her hands and the two dancing figures twirling in time to the sweet melody; the two figures were her and Loki, and the music was what was playing when they danced together for the first time at Tony’s charity ball. She looked up at him once the tinkling music faded away and beamed. “It’s beautiful!”

“You like it?” He had a hesitant sort of look on his face. “I wasn’t sure you would…”

Her smile widened. “I love it, sweetheart!” After she pressed a brief kiss to his lips, she carefully set the music box down on the table and grabbed her present to him, walking back to her boyfriend and offering the package to him with slightly-quaking fingers. “Okay, your turn.”

Butterflies erupted in (Y/N)’s stomach as she watched her boyfriend carefully unwrap his gift. Her hands suddenly became clammy and her mouth went dry, and it was if time had slowed down as Loki lifted the lid of the box to reveal a shiny gold ring. He looked back up at her, his expression blank and unreadable, just as she took a shaky deep breath and spoke.

“Before we met, I had a fairly good idea of how my life would go; I’d become a full-time librarian, save up enough money so I could go see the world and maybe even meet someone special, but that didn’t matter to me as much as being able to help others. And then I met you, Loki. You understood me, my thoughts and my passions, better than anyone else in the world; you helped me open my eyes to a whole unknown part of myself and gave me the strength I needed to embrace it. I’m not as skilled at expressing my love as you are, sweetheart, but then I realized that there was no better way of showing how much I love you than…” She gently took the box from his un-moving hands and held the ring as she tearily smiled up at him. “Loki Odinson, I love you with all my heart and I can’t imagine living the rest of my life without you. Will you marry me?”

(Y/N)’s heart was hammering in her chest as she stared into his emerald-green eyes, so much so that she was afraid he’d be able to hear it. But her fears melted away the moment Loki’s face broke out into the most dazzling smile she’d ever seen; he reached for her free hand and held it firmly between his own as he choked out, “Yes. Yes, I will!”

Half-laughing and half-crying, (Y/N) surged forward and captured his lips with a passion-filled kiss that was eagerly reciprocated. Loki let go of her hand in order to wrap his arms around her waist and pull her flush against him, tightening his hold when (Y/N) ran a hand through his dark locks. After several blissful moments, she pulled away as he continued pressing kisses along her jawline. “I-I know that it’s unconventional for a woman to propose to a man, even here on Midgard, so I’m sorry if-”

“Sorry?” Loki gave her cheek a final kiss before leaning back just far enough to see her whole face, his eyes filled with unabashed adoration. “(Y/N), you shouldn’t have to apologize for such a beautiful gesture and besides, our relationship is the very definition of ‘unconventional,’ wouldn’t you say?”

“I suppose you’re right about that.” She giggled before grabbing his left hand and holding it up. “May I?” Once he gave her a nod, she slipped the ring onto the third finger of his hand and smiled. “It fits! That saves us a trip back to the shop for resizing.”

“It’s stunning, darling. May I give you your ring now?”

(Y/N) furrowed her brow in confusion. “My ring?”

It was Loki’s turn to be nervous; his fingers intertwined with hers and he gave her a sheepish smile before continuing. “Yes, well, I…I asked for one of my mother’s rings when we visited Asgard. I’ve been waiting for the right moment to propose, but…well, it would seem that you beat me to it, my clever love.” He removed his other hand from around her waist and held it palm-up before her; the air above it shimmered with green magic before a velvet ring box materialized. It was already open, revealing a glittering ring set in silver; its center stone looked like a diamond to her and the metal surrounding it was formed into delicate petal shapes, filled with a blend of small diamonds and what she guessed were peridots and purple sapphires. “I can ask my mother for another if you’re not fond of this one, or we can consult a jeweler if you’d prefer something more traditional…”

“It’s perfect, Loki, absolutely perfect.” Sharing a teary smile, (Y/N) held out her hand and allowed Loki to slip the ring onto her finger; she flexed the fingers of her left hand, unused to having something that weighty on her finger, but her smile widened as she admired just how right it looked. Looking up, she cupped his cheek and traced along his cheekbone with her thumb. “I can’t believe I’ll get to be your wife someday.”

“And I can’t believe that I’ll have the honor of being your husband.” Loki ducked his head and captured her lips in another heated kiss; without any warning, he bent down and wrapped his arms around her upper thighs, hoisting her up so that he could angle his face upwards instead of craning his neck down. (Y/N) giggled in surprise and threw her arms around his neck as he grinned into their kiss, losing herself to their passion. When they were forced to separate for air, Loki looked up at her with absolute adoration in his emerald-green eyes. “Darling, would you honor your betrothed with a dance?” (Y/N) nodded, her fingers carding through his mussed hair while he called out, “J.A.R.V.I.S., play Sergeant Barnes’ music playlist, please.”

“Of course, Prince Loki.”

(Y/N)’s brow rose in surprise when she recognized the beginning of Jo Stafford’s ‘You Belong To Me’ as it began playing throughout the ballroom, and Loki’s smile widened. “In preparation for this evening, I asked the others for music recommendations and Barnes was gracious enough to let us use his playlist.”

“Your definition of dancing seems to conflict a little with mine, sweetheart,” She quipped as Loki began slowly swaying them in a tight circle. “You’re not going to put me down, are you?”

Holding her up in one arm with ease, Loki took her hand and intertwined their fingers before resting them against his chest and gently shaking his head. “Never, my darling.”

(Y/N) smiled at that, her eyes drifting closed while she rested her forehead against Loki’s; their noses rubbed up against one another and as they continued their slow rotation, his lips ghosted over the skin of her cheek and she began to wonder if a person could actually die of happiness.

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

Later that night, (Y/N) lounged on Loki’s bed and admired her engagement ring while her fiancé showered, her mind already filled with wedding plans. I’ll bet my entire book collection that Tony’ll try convincing us to let him officiate, (Y/N) thought with a giggle, rolling onto her back and staring up at the ceiling of Loki’s bedroom as she rested her hands on her pajama-clad stomach and let out a content sigh. But while she laid there, her overwhelming happiness was soon replaced with a growing sense of dread as familiar words began to replay in her mind:

“It’s also about controlling your emotions and keeping them in check. Strong ones, like anger or passion, can sometimes be a trigger…”

“Layeia and her forbidden Midgardian lover reigned with an iron fist, executing any who opposed their rule, and gained a small following who worshiped her evil magic…”

“You and your mother are more alike than you realize. The fiery tempers, the forbidden lovers and most importantly, the ambition…”

Along with that, flashes of her ever-present nightmares and the brief snippets of King Tarian’s book crossed her mind, forcing her to repress her horrified gasp. My love for Loki could make me lose control of my magic and become what my mother was, (Y/N) thought as fear began to blossom in the pit of her stomach. But she and Loki had been in love for several months without any sort of problem…and that’s when she remembered all the incidents. Her magical abilities had been triggered by her desire to protect him from a Hydra agent in the library. In an attempt to defend his honor, she’d even attacked Tony and in her rage, nearly destroyed an entire floor of the tower. And while she’d tried reasoning that it had only been inside her head, she’d even physically shocked Loki with her magic back on Asgard and it had been powerful enough for the Frost Giant to feel its stinging pain.

The first thing in the morning I’m going down to the lab to speak with Doctor Cho, she thought to herself as she heard the shower head turn off in the bathroom, and I swear on my Aunt Evelyn that I won’t become the very same evil that my mother was.

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

A/N: Ahhhh they’re engaged!! If anyone was wondering, I took inspiration for that dancing scene from one of Tom Hiddleston’s films called The Deep Blue Sea, you guys should check it out if you haven’t already. Thank you all so much for reading and commenting! I’ve created a Spotify playlist inspired by this series, and I’ll be updating it every time I upload a new chapter. Enjoy!

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2wx8TZwpDN0l33tES3W3Nk

Chapter Eighteen-Part One

Spellbinding Masterlist

Tagging: @nexiva @ravenclawbitch426 @cminr @confusedfandomwriter @momc95 @nickkie1129 @austynparksandpizza @brooke0297 @destructivebliss @outoftheregular​ @itscomplicatedx​ @0-artemis​ @vivloki​

[piraticalarchive]

okay so for everyone who hates big corporations and management who takes advantage of their employees.. this one’s for you. it’s long but .... i find it completely hilarious.

so a brief recap: amy got fired back in march from a huge international retailer, yes? when things first started like they were going south, i worked on really re establishing a relationship with my brother who is like one level below C-suite (cfo, ceo, etc etc) of that same company because i had an idea in mind. March rolls around, amy gets fired .. and I’m like .. okay. time to put this in motion. but stress and depression obviously took the motivation away from me, but i continued to keep that line of communication up with my brother. we started talking weekly, sometimes twice a week via an actual call. well, i’m finally feeling better .. so this week i finally put my plan in motion. here’s how it went

stage 1: i sent a text to my brother asking if i applied to the store in my area if i could use him as a reference. he said, of course but every store is hiring so i’d look at any store besides that one. (which is already fucking hilarious but i digress) ... so i call the store and one of the managers who sat in on amy’s firing answers when i ask to speak to someone involved in hiring (oh lucky day). I start off with “hi! I’m sorry to bother you, but I’ve been looking for a job thats a bit of a change of scenery and my brother is the *insert position name* and works in *insert headquarters location* and he recommended i give the company a try despite that I had a less than stellar experience last time”. And this manager FALLS OVER telling me they are hiring for so many positions blah blah blah and then at the end when i’m like “thanks for the information! I’m definitely going to apply!” she’s like “of course! I’ll give our hiring manager your information so she can pull it immediately. Whats your name?” and i give my name and suddenly its just dead fucking silent... because they know who I am and they know that I’m in a relationship with amy and that i know what they did. But she recovers and is like ‘can’t wait to see your application!’ .. so.. okay. stage 1 was a success. but then, enter...

unexpected event: the store manager himself calls me. Starts off with some small talk, finally gets around to saying ‘so I hear you’d like to come back and work for us? I was looking at your previous application and I didn’t see any mention of the relation you talked about when you called”. And I’m like “oh, yeah... I don’t like using stuff like that because I’d prefer to get in on my own merit  and skills and not by a family member’s position. Plus its like that show undercover boss, you know? I get to see what the place is like before they know. BUT given with what happened to amy, I was unsure if I’d even be considered without a reference like that” and he laughs nervously and is like “i totally get it. So did anyone know that you had a brother in that position?” and I’m like “oh i mentioned it once in passing to [amy’s manger] but I just said my brother was in corporate and there are a lot of levels so i think he just left it at that” and the store manager is like ‘haha yeah different levels but thats like ... its own level...” and we talk a little bit and he’s like “what made you want to come back?” and I’m like “like i mentioned before, the amy thing really threw me off. I was angry and the good thing about siblings is you don’t have to sugarcoat stuff. So I went to my brother and was like this is how you treat people?? are you kidding?? what about job security?? and i sent him the picture amy had snapped of her discharge papers where it listed the reason and he told me that, and everything else I yelled at him about,  wasn’t the company’s way and that the store had seriously violated something. So for one, I now know that isn’t actually something that should have happened and  two, i inadvertently brought this store to corporate’s attention and there are a lot of good people who work here, and they don’t deserve the consequences of that, so I want to help make it right” and he’s fucking sweating yall, I can hear it over the phone. and he’s like “fill out your application and put whatever you want down and we’ll call you and talk about positions and we can find a way to give you what you want” and I’m like “oh, don’t tell me that nick because your chair is looking awfully good right now” and he did a nervous laugh. SO, unexpected event made my plan even better. Then we get to:

Stage 2: I apply. I check literally every management position, including the one they fired amy from and also some hourly positions and put down ridiculous hours. I pass the manager test with flying colors and when it asks why i said i want to be a team trainer i wrote down ‘thanks to knowing the home office, i know how things should work and I want to help this store raise its position in the district and I know what policies aren’t being followed to help make that raise smoother.” I submitted the application, called the first manager I had spoken to and told her I had done so and she was like “I’m sure we’ll give you a call tomorrow!” ‘Tomorrow’ came and by 7 that night, they hadn’t contacted me. So I went to the ‘we’re hiring’ image they had posted on their facebook page like an hour previously and tagged my brother and was like ‘dude this is one of the positions at my store i was telling you about. think i could pull it off?” AND BAM ! they sent me a request for a phone interview at 8am the next morning. I scheduled my interview for later that afternoon at 2:45 and we enter Stage 3.

Stage 3: Amy and I go to the store to pick up a few things. It’s suddenly fucking spotless. There are no gaps in the shelves, the floor has been cleaned since the last time we were there (monday night and i called them tuesday and it is now white and shiny as hell) and they have the lights turned up all the way so you can actually see. EVERY FUCKING AISLE is perfect. Cat food? perfect. Funko pops? stacked and lined up perfectly. Video games? Filled. Clearance aisle? Perfect order. Like its super obvious they did a mad dash and tried to get the store in shape. So amy and I walk down every single aisle and point things out and kind of put our heads together and talk and I take out my phone and act like i’m texting etc .. basically we’re just fucking with people’s heads because the managers are nearby and they can see what we’re doing. 

Stage 4: So later we’re home and 2:45 comes and goes with NO word. No phone call, no email, no hey can we reschedule. they FORGOT about the interview. I’m dying because they’re making it even better and even easier to fuck with them. So I text my brother (who KNOWS my mental health has been in the trash) and I’m like “I filled out an application just to see and they set up an interview and blew me off. You were right .. not a great help when it comes to the blues” and he was like “yep...i’d look at literally any other store” and talked to me a bit more about it. He was irritated that they’d do that and kept saying they were on thin ice.  Finally at 5 they text me and they’re like “hey, this is the [insert store] and we’re sorry we missed your interview. I wanna apologize. Can we reschedule?” And I wait like an hour and a half (i was napping, i’ll admit it) but I respond with “I apologize for the late response, I had a prior commitment I had to take care of. Unfortunately, I reached out to someone [they know who it is. they know]  in the off chance I had misunderstood the process since I hadn’t heard from you guys and I was encouraged to pursue opportunities at other branches in the area. Thank you for the original consideration and I hope you have a great day!” and they waited until 11am the next day to reply back which I’m assuming is because they were waiting for the higher up management to return to the store.

Come to find out the managers are still basically pissing themselves and freaking out because not only did they a) fire someone against company policy and now know the people at the top know and b) drop the ball and forget to interview a family member of said people at the top ... I got to add salt in the wound one more time by mentioning that my brother dropped in a lot (he doesn’t) and that I’d love to show off the store since it’s such a huge part of the community and it was looking better than I’d ever seen it look. And that it would be nice because he’d get the real experience since it wasn’t a formal, announced visit .... but, of course, that he’s salary .. so the policy is that he’s always ‘at work’ and obligated to take note of things.

so basically, i feel justified. Six and a half months of careful planning and maneuvering was totally justified. 10/10, I’d do it again. Let this be a lesson that patience in planning vengeance is completely worth having and I hope I helped make the store better for employees who aren’t management by putting the fear of god into them with the idea that my brother or anyone else from his office can just drop the fuck in whenever they want with a totally casual visit that could still fuck the management over completely. This is a good week, mates .. a very good week. Am I petty? yes. Do i hate their guts and feel like it was an entertainment that was totally worth it given what they did to the love of my life? also yes.

[golbrockstar]

Fun In LA

Colby Brock x Reader

Warning(s): None that I’m aware of

Summary: Colby Brock accuses you of never having any fun and decides it’s up to him to show you what fun in LA really means.

(Gif by @starrybrock )

You crept into the Trap House at the early hour of 8 am, taking in your surroundings as you balanced the tray of Starbucks in your hand and the bag of donuts under your arm.

The house was silent, confirming to you that all of its occupants were either still asleep or hadn’t made it out of bed yet. 

It wasn’t surprising to you, of course. The boys rarely woke up before noon on a regular day, but the fact that it was a Sunday and they had partied, according to one of their Instagram stories, ‘like fucking animals’ came into account as well.

You pulled your key out of the lock before you realized that they were right. The house was a mess.

You let out a quiet laugh and shook your head. You'd been the Trap Boys' assistant for a little over two months now and you loved them, of course. Corey insisted on teaching you how to dance even though you'd tried your hardest to convince him you couldn't, Jake could make you laugh by just walking into the room, if he was trying, Sam enjoyed your company and practically sang your praises when you helped him with the more serious stuff, and Colby very nearly relied on you to remind him to do stuff and would always be the first to joke with you and invite you to stuff.

You walked into the kitchen and were surprised to see the boy standing at the fridge. He had ridiculous bedhead and was only wearing a pair of sweatpants that hung low on his hips. He turned to look at you when the donut bag rustled as you set it on the counter.

"You’re up early," You commented, picking up his cup. “Coffee?”

Colby let out a groan, shutting the fridge and taking the cup from you. "You're a goddess."

You laughed. "It's what you pay me for."

He rolled his eyes as he took a long sip, reaching for the donut bag and examining its contents.

“Got about every kind. I’m still not sure on what donuts are your guys’ favorites.” You said as you set your purse on the table.

“We’re not picky,” Colby replied, pulling out a chocolate covered donut and biting into it.

Conversation with Colby was always easy. He never took things too seriously, but also didn’t always feel the need to crack a joke. It was simple and you found yourself talking to him quite regularly.

“How was the party?” You asked, making your way around the kitchen to silently tidy it up.

Colby shrugged, watching you lazily. “Fun. Would’ve been better if you were there.”

“Ha ha,” You replied, tying up the old garbage and replacing it with a new bag. “You know that’s not my scene.”

“And I don’t see why not. Do you ever do anything besides work?”

“I enjoy my work.”

Your job was fairly easy and was always changing. Sometimes you’d be a cameraman, sometimes you tagged along to meetings, sometimes you helped them organize their bills or other expenses, and sometimes is was things as simple as putting gas in their cars. You never knew what to expect from them and that’s partially why you enjoyed the job so much. That and how fun all the people you got to interact with were.

"That doesn't answer my question."

Ignoring his comment and the way he was staring at you, you pulled another couple trash bags from the roll. "Since you’re Mr. bright and early today, you get to help me clean up.”

He shook his head at you but took a bag from your hands. "Seriously, you should come to the next one, have a little fun."

"I wouldn't know anyone."

"You'd know us."

"I don't really drink,"

"Don't have to to have a good time."

You dumped out two red solo cups into the sink and disposed them into his trash bag. "What do you want from me, Colby?"

"I want you to have some fun."

You scoffed at him, grabbing another four cups from the table.

"I’m serious, Y/N. When was the last time you did something a little dangerous or even just for fun?"

"I have fun with you guys all the time."

"You know what I mean."

You sighed, shoving a pizza box into the bag. He was staring at you with those piercing blue eyes and it was hard to ignore him when you knew he wasn't going to drop the subject until he got what he wanted.

"Not since I moved out here," you admitted.

"What?" Colby seemed taken aback by your answer. "You're kidding, right?"

You shrugged. You were trying to live in LA. You had to eat and pay your bills; you didn't feel like you had time for fun.

"That’s insane! You’re in like- the funest city and you’ve never even tried?”

You started making a stack of empty cups. “It’s not that I haven’t tried. I just...don’t know anyone out here. I’m not like you and Sam, I came out here all on my own on my own dime and before I had this job I was living off a barista and a bartender salaries. Fun didn’t come easy.”

Colby’s frown only deepened at your words. You could see the wheels turning in his head as you dumped the stack into his trash bag. You’d come to learn it was never a good sign when he was quiet.

“Colby?” You said cautiously, looking up at him.

His eyes were locked on you, focused and unwavering. The heat rose to your cheeks as you looked down at the floor and moved to grab your trash bag.

He grabbed it before you had a chance.

"Colby!"

"No, nope, unacceptable. I refuse to let you continue living your life like this."

You scoffed. "You're being ridiculous,"

He swung the bag out of your reach, holding it above his head.

"Colby! Seriously, I need to get this place cleaned up."

“No! Not until you agree to have some fun!”

“When?” You retorted, mildly annoyed with his antics. “With who? Where?”

“With me!” He exclaimed. “One month. Give me one month to show you how much fun LA can be and by then if you don’t ever want to have fun again, I’ll drop it.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “What’s your game, Brock?”

“No games or deal’s off, okay?”

You considered for a moment. You knew he wasn’t going to let this go. Plus he was basically your boss, you kinda had to do what he says. Not that you thought he would fire you if you didn’t agree, but still. Even so, a whole month of Colby trying to convince you to let loose and have fun. What could go wrong?

A lot. You thought.

But your mouth betrayed your thoughts. “Fine. Deal.”

Colby grinned, handing you the trash bag back. “Awesome. And as for where, let me take care of that.”

“Should I be nervous?”

“Only if you don’t trust me.”

“I’ve known you for, like, maybe three months.”

He let out a small laugh, a wide smile stretched across his lips.

“When do we start?”

“Tomorrow.” He confirmed. “Give me the rest of the day to figure out the details.”

You shrugged. “Whatever,”

He winked at you and disappeared into the hall, probably on his way to get dressed and hopefully brush his hair.

You sighed when he was out of sight, huffily shoving more cups into the bag. This was going to one eventful month.

[painted-piggy-ships-archive]

He Mixes It With Love (And Makes The World Taste Good)

Daniel Robitaille/Candyman x Eden Trowbridge

Word Count: 1547

Tag List: @ghostlyvenus-selfships @the-schizotypal-cryptid @heavenshipped @fangedwife

Summary: I WRITE MY BEST (debatable, at least LONGEST) STUFF BETWEEN MIDNIGHT AND TWO AM, AND I DON’T KNOW WHY. Anyway. Eden meets Candyman, and is unknowingly his lover reincarnated. He knows, though. He’ll stop at nothing to have them see him, for him. To have them remember. (White) Clover = “Think of me” & Daisies = Loyal Love (among other things).

Warnings: Mentions of racism, homophobia, and transphobia due to the times, mentions of murder and gore, mentions of smoking, mentions of drinking, drunk guys being creepy, mentions of police, mention of a hospital, also again dog mention for anyone with canophobia.

Like my writing? Consider Reblogging 🔁 and/or leaving a nice Comment 💬 when you can! Thank you!

Eden Trowbridge was a semi-retired journalist. He’d always had a fascination with myths and the macabre, but found the dark stories he was often assigned to be taking a toll on his mental health. So, for the moment, he backed out. Where he lived didn’t help, either. He was one of the very few white people living in the area, and the Cabrini Green housing project was merely two blocks away. It had nothing to do with race, really… the place was just dangerous in general.

Eden faced his own personal problems as well; as a gay, transgender man, he certainly had his share of critics with an arsenal of threats. But that was life. He tried to find joy in the little things, and always made sure he was considerate and polite to others, no matter their race, identity, etc. When they cut us open, we all bleed the same colour.

Now, as he tried to work on an independent novel, his phone rang. He sighed and retracted from his messy desk when he couldn’t ignore it, going to answer the phone.

“Trowbridge.” He answered formally. He was expecting it to be a call from his boss, he was correct.

“Hey, Eden. I think I’ve got something for you. None of the other guys want to do it.”

Eden’s gaze dropped to the floor, mentally sighing.

“What is it?”

“You know anything about Candyman?”

“What, you mean like a guy that sells candy??”

“No, the urban legend.”

“Doesn’t ring a bell.”

“Well, it’s said he haunts Cabrini Green. You live around there. Go check it out, maybe you can get a new perspective on the situation.”

“Todd…”

“I’ll pay you well.”

Eden scoffed. “How well? I’m not risking my life for a ghost story.” Besides the fact they’ll be quite suspicious of somebody like me over there.

“Double your current salary.”

“I don’t know…”

“Name your price, then.”

Eden reflected. Asking for enough to get out of this shithole flat would cancel the deal outright… but maybe enough to fix his car…

“I want fifteen hundred.”

“I’ll see what I can do…”

“So, what do you want?”

“Do some research, talk to the locals. Revive this story with the idea your eye might catch something police have missed.”

We all know pigs are too apprehensive to tread in this territory anyway.

“Alright. I’ll see what I can do.” Eden echoed. “Have a good afternoon.”

“Bye.”

Eden hung up the phone and stubbed out the cigarette they had been smoking. Their pitbull, Bela, lifted his head from his paws, tilting it to the side with a slight whine. Eden sighed and crouched to pet him affectionately.

“Looks like I’m back to work.”

~~~

Eden had spent most of their time at the library, putting off actually visiting Cabrini Green for as long as possible… just walking past the building gave them chills. But now, they’d gotten everything they could. He hyped himself up, planning on visiting the apartments the next day. However, it seemed he’d be saved by a phone call.

“Trowbridge.”

“Eden Trowbridge?” A different voice than he expected came from the other end.

“Yes, this is Eden. And you are…?”

“Jake McDiamond, we went to college together? Had a lot of classes…”

“Oh. Oh, yeah, hey Jake, what’s. What’s shaking?” Eden answered awkwardly. They hadn’t spoken to much of their peers after college, and certainly not now.

“Me and some of your other classmates, acquaintance-friends, whatever… we’re having a get-together party tonight and I was wondering if you wanted to come, since I still have your number.”

Eden shrugged to themself.

“When is it?” They asked, glancing at the clock. Not at all a good excuse to put work off, but an excuse opportunity nonetheless.

“Nine to twelve, at 4509 Hillview Street. Kennedy Doogal’s house.”

“Sure. I’ll be there.”

“Oh? I mean, great! It’ll be good to see you again.”

“Yeah. Certainly will be interesting catching up with everyone… see you then.”

“See you.”

Eden quickly went to find a suitable outfit for the evening, coming back to find their dog giving them side-eye.

“Oh, Bela, don’t look at me like that. If it keeps me sane for another night, I’m going. Now don’t chew up the couch while I’m gone.” They set out new food and water, kissed the top of Bela’s head, and left their flat.

~~~

The night was all fun and stress-free, up until about eleven-thirty, when people’s drinking was beginning to get out of hand.

“So, you’re doing a piece on Candyman?” A guy Eden didn’t really know asked. They gulped down the last of their drink.

“Mm-hm. You know something?” They felt in their pocket for a notepad though they knew they didn’t bring one. They were supposed to be unwinding, not taking notes for a paper they were only partially motivated to work on.

“I heard if you say his name five times in a mirror… he’ll find you, and he’ll kill you. But you don’t believe that shit, do you?”

Eden shrugged. “I’m skeptical until something’s proven. You know, real people have died due to similar wounds attributed to this Candyman figure…” He hiccupped, excusing himself. “But I think it’s either coincidence, or somebody copying the legend just to spread fear. And I certainly think that is some shit.”

“Then let’s do it.” The guy stood, accompanied by two of his friends, and pulled Eden to his feet.

“Huh?”

“That is, if you aren’t chicken. Let’s summon Candyman.”

Eden frowned, stepping back uncomfortably. “You couldn’t pay me to go through with it. Not after what I’ve read.”

“Chicken,” one of the other boys snickered. The main guy’s lackeys grabbed Eden’s arms and firmly led them to a bathroom.

“I don’t remember giving you a choice.”

Crammed between sweaty, drunken men, who seemed to still be riding the high of their college years, kept Eden pinned in front of a sink. The only light was a small nightlight beside the mirror.

“Candyman.” The main asshole began.

“W-wait. What are your names?” Eden had enough sobriety to know if they could get the guys’ names, and remember their faces, they could report the current situation as harassment. Not that they believed the police would care, but it’d be nice if they did manage to get these guys in trouble.

“Thomas.”

“Lennie.”

“Franklin.”

“Now don’t let him get away!” Thomas ordered, standing directly behind Eden, his large hands on their shoulders as he leaned over their head, staring deeply into the glossy surface of the mirror.

“Candyman. Candyman. Candyman.” He moved to whisper the last one in Eden’s ear, though he maintained eye contact with the mirror; “Candyman.”

A pause. Nothing happened. The men laughed at their smaller peer.

“Chicken!” Lennie repeated, now clucking like a hen with Franklin. The door opened and the light suddenly came on. A towering figure appeared in the doorway, and it took a moment for the drunken bullies to turn and notice him. They screamed when a bloody hook plunged into their guts, one at a time, and tore through their flesh, halting at their adam’s apples. Eden dropped to the floor, covering his ears and fearing for his life.

“Eden.~” A honey-coated voice hummed.

“Leave me alone! Please… please don’t kill me…” Eden sobbed, attempting to crawl over the corpses on the floor and past the man’s pant leg. Candyman’s pant leg. “I didn’t say it…”

Eden’s head began to spin as he grew weak, instinctively clinging to Candyman’s leg for support, now. His non-hook hand ran calmly over Eden’s locks.

“Hush. I will come back for you.”

~~~

The next thing Eden knew, he woke up in a hospital, his boss sitting beside his bed.

“Eddie! Thank god…”

“What happened…??” Eden asked warily.

“You were found passed out in the bathroom at a party… next to three corpses. Gutted. Blood everywhere.”

Tears pricked Eden’s eyes.

“Oh my gods…”

“Do you remember anything??”

Eden shook his head. “Barely… I know it was Jake McDiamond and Kennedy Doogal’s party. They wanted to reconnect with some of their college classmates, so naturally I said ‘why not,’ and went. We all got smashed… and then it’s all a blur.”

“I see.”

“Wait, I remember three names… Thomas, Lennie… a-and Franklin, yes. Franklin.”

“The three found dead. Well, I’m sure you’ll get the cops asking you more than me… I’m just glad you’re alright. Take it easy, okay?” Todd stood.

“Okay…”

“I’ll try and move the deadline for that piece on Candyman.” With that, Eden’s boss left them to a moment of uneasy silence, only broken by tapping on their window. Cautiously, they climbed out of the bed and approached the window… upon opening it, they found flowers on the sill; white clover and daisies.

Wait. I’m on at least the tenth floor. How…? Mildly frightened and mildly fascinated, Eden took the flowers and closed the window, returning to their bed. They subtly sniffed at the plants, closing their eyes, feeling… nostalgic, and warm, but unable to place where the feeling was coming from. They were jolted out of this peace, however, by violent imagery flashing before their very eyes. They began to weep uncontrollably as a nurse came to assist and calm them down.

They belonged to Candyman, now.

[lyricalimerence]

10 Things I Hate About You • 001

masterlist • 001, 002, 003... coming soon

Chapter One — The Rule

summary: jj & rafe talk w/ the dean, regular expositional stuffs

word count: 1618

warnings: a singular swear word, sexual innuendos & use of euphemisms for terms used in writing smut, allusions to underage drug use.

a/n: i hope this chapter isn't boring 😔 but yALL IM BEYOND EXCITED TO START THIS YOU HAVE NO IDEA KDJD

The Kildare County High School of the Outer Banks in North Carolina is a tale of two cities. The Kooks and the Pogues each have their metaphorically crowned Princes and Princesses, and separate castes in their social hierarchies walking the halls. As one Kook Princess, Kacey Brooks, violently rips a poster advertising the Spring Fling dance off the bulletin board, the Pogue Prince, JJ Maybank, and the Kook Prince, Rafe Cameron, are just about to run into each other in the doorway of the Dean’s office.

The Dean is a thin woman with a raspy voice. She’s snappy, vulgar, and in the midst of writing plotless, and pointless, smut into a novel.

JJ is sat on the opposite side of the Dean's desk, starting at the HP emblem etched into the back of her computer, the clacking of the keyboard keys echoed through the office. He knew why he landed himself there, he just wished she would let him go already. She wanted him gone, he wanted him gone, cut out the middleman and let him leave. The Dean wanted to write out graphic ( and disturbing ) sex scenes, and JJ wanted to get to the quad where he could watch Gracie Brooks from afar in between second and third period.

The Dean carefully closed her laptop, her thin, almost witchy fingers treating her creative medium with more respect than she's ever shown the students of Kildare County. Tapping her thick, pink framed glasses up the tanned bridge of her crooked nose, her eyes settled on JJ. He leant backwards in his chair, tipping precariously on its back legs. He looked the same as he always did when he came face to face with the Dean; a heather grey Coors t-shirt with the sleeves cut off draped over his shoulders—the emblem on the center of his shirt was problematic in itself—, navy blue cargo shorts hung relatively low from his hips, but not enough that he was showing anymore than anyone wanted to see, and his black combat boots left black treds on the tile flooring from the rubber soles. Tousled blond tendrils of hair were more or less disheveled than usual as they curled around his forehead, shading his cerulean eyes that were watching the Dean expectantly.

“Alright, Maybank. You’ve been absent the past week.” She picked up the file that was placed next to her closed laptop, a single piece of printer paper sticking out of the manila folder. her eyes scanned the corner of the paper, just soaking in the most surface level information as to why JJ Maybank was sitting in her office—again.

He nodded slightly, just barely dipping his chin in acknowledgement. “Yes, Ma’am. Do you wanna know—” JJ knew their conversation wouldn't last much longer. The Dean wanted him in and out. She had to mark that the student was in her office as part of her job description, but she didn't actually have to offer them advice or discipline.

“That’s enough. I’m sure this will happen again, just don’t be so obvious next time.” The Dean, who JJ knew by first name ( they were that well acquainted ), stood out of her chair to shoo the blond out of her small workspace she grew to call… her imaginative corner. The needy, shit-for-brains teenagers that were in and out of the place all day were ruining the “aura.”

“Pleasure doin’ business with ya, Ma’am.” JJ replied as he turned on his boot-clad heel through the doorway, only to come face-to-face with Rafe Cameron. Rafe Cameron, the Kook Prince in all his Ralph Lauren polo glory. It wasn’t that JJ was short—he wasn’t at six feet tall—, but Rafe had two inches of height up on him. Even in a metaphorical sense, Rafe seemingly always had the upper hand. Whether it was from a financial, familial, or even school performance standpoint.

So, with a pointed glare ( that was returned by Rafe ), JJ stepped through the doorway, eager to rid himself of the Cameron boy's presence before he threw a punch for no reason besides intuition.

The Dean looked up as JJ walked away, leaving Rafe to turn in towards the interior of the office, a smirk that was bound to stick on his face like a silly childhood white lie, pulling at the corner of his lips. “Rafe Cameron,” her scratchy voice drawled as she dropped her clipboard about a foot onto her desk, letting the clattering sound echo. Rafe didn’t bother with the formalities of sitting down, he, like JJ, knew he would be in and out before he could say the words, “Outer Banks.”

“I see we’re making these visits a weekly ritual.”

“Only so I can see you, Ma’am.” His smirk widened into a sarcastic grin. Despite being so, outlandishly different, Rafe and JJ were uncannily the same. Even in ways they wouldn’t be caught dead with another person knowing about. “Should I play our collection of Frank Ocean songs?”

“Very clever, Rage.” She exaggerated her calling him Rage, his name was so close to the word and the word described almost his entire personality. The Dean relished in the irony. She picked up another manila folder, flipping through the papers inside she looked back towards the boy with disdain. “Says here you snorted coke in the cafeteria?”

Rafe sighed, what it said was absolutely the truth, but he couldn’t get by without putting at least a little effort in. “I was joking, I was pretending to do a bump when it was just salt.”

“Salt?” The Dean walked towards Rafe ready to push him out of her office, although the snorting of coke started turning gears in her crude brain. “That had to burn going down didn’t it? Next time, do it in the bathroom. Now, adios!”

With an exaggerated eye roll, Rafe left the Dean’s office, where she was opening up her laptop once more, muttering to herself, “Snorting coke...high sex? Bump, sounds modern.”

. . .

In the heart of the quad, as the wind picked up, blowing the remnants of an oceanic breeze across the grounds of the high school, JJ fell into step with his best friend—John B. Neither had materials needed for class. John B had a piece of paper stuffed into the back pocket of his shorts, and JJ was going off maybe having a pen or pencil in the amalgam of beer bottle caps and the paper with which he handrolls his joints jingling in one of the various pockets in his cargo shorts. Groups of people stand in their own, small congregations. There are the basic beauts—the Kook girls and guys that have nothing going for them besides their looks. Their parents make good money, enough to stay on Figure Eight, the rich side of the island, but not enough for them to be extraordinary in any feat. There are the surfers; they are Cut’s pride and joy. They adorn their lockers with stickers and listen to reggae music in the halls. One of the only groups in school that intermingled between social classes, that is to say the only group that blurred the line between Kook and Pogue, are the stoners. Lots of smoking weed, but sometimes someone can rope in something stronger. Normally, it was cocaine, considering the expansive market for the drug in the Outer Banks.

John B and JJ found another one of their close friends, Pope. The three Pogues were in their own little world, talking amongst themselves about possible storms heading in that would create surges perfect to surf when Gracie Brooks and her best friend, Arianna Chavez passed them. JJ’s attention was immediately caught. He was like a fish and whenever he talked to Gracie, saw Gracie, hell, whenever he interacted with her in any way, he would take the bait on the fishing rod. She was like a magnet, albeit, she didn’t quite return his feelings.

Gracie is one of Figure Eight’s finest. Her mother split a few years ago, and neither Gracie, nor her older sister Kacey Brooks, have told anyone why. Steve Brooks—Kacey and Gracie’s father—is an obstetrician, and one of the very few on the island. That in itself racks in quite the salary for the two Kook princesses to spend.

“Oh, my God,” he whispered, as the two girls passed him.

Gracie continued to preach the differences between “like” and “love” via the analogy of her high-top Converse to her Doc Martens. Arianna nodded her head in agreement. While there was just something about Gracie, whether it be her cookie-cutter looking exterior in short dresses or her allusions to a deeper meaning behind her relationships with her shoes, there was also something about Arianna. Before she became best friends with Gracie, she was more outgoing, more talkative, more eloquent with her words, but Gracie’s influence changed that, and if the universe was any indication, it seldom sure that Arianna would revert back to her pre-Gracie self after her influence is gone.

“Dude, you know the rule.” John B said, tugging on JJ’s shoulder as the blond sixteen-year-old almost followed Gracie, like he couldn't help but just be pulled into her wake. It was true, JJ did know the rule. It was widely known that the Brooks sisters Do Not Date. In Kacey’s freshman year, the rule was widely condemned by the male population until halfway through the year something snapped. She was no longer just another Kook Princess with preppy sundresses and vintage Reeboks. Now, all the fuss was on Gracie. Every guy was vying for her attention. She simply relished in the attention, and all JJ could do was pine quietly until graduation. Or, he could meddle. There was always that.

tags: @perkily @mortifiedposts @poguequeen @abigailpankow @curlybrownhairedboys @steverogers123 @outerbankslut @jayjaymaebank @jjssarah @whOreforharry @wowitswondergurl @anonymous0writer @kodi8314 @outrbank @aestheticcraze @kylosleftbuttcheek @x-lulu @dailygrace06 @calswildflower95 @insanitysparkles @prejudic3 @ilovejjmaybank @apoguecalledjj @xxxxxxxxxxxxxooooooooooooo @calumbroutledge @rudys-pankow @bxllasanosa @write-from-the-heart @thelocalpogue @fandomsinapile @starkeymarkey @lovingxjj @beatement-l @drew-starkey @beckester @butgilinsky @kayak-huesgen

if your user is in italics then it didn't let me tag you—shoot me an ask or a pm if i typed it wrong or if tumblr is just bitching ✨

if you want to be tagged in the upcoming chapters for this series click here

[trashystarker]

strictly business - a starker one shot

Title: strictly business Fandom: MCU Pairing: Starker (Tony Stark x Peter Parker) Rating: Mature (NSFW - Flirting- Fluff and Smut) Word Count: ~4725 Prompt: Neck Kisses 

Summary: Peter Parker is a new hire at Stark Industries, and is someone that has caught Tony’s attention. After a successful new invention, Tony invites Peter out to dinner where he realizes that maybe he might not be alone in the attention department. 

A/N: Here’s my next bingo offering for @starkerfestivals​ summer bingo! Please enjoy! :) 

***

“Mr. Parker.” He called out, as he saw one of his new employees heading into the elevator in the lobby. “Would you mind holding that?” Tony walked a little faster towards it as he saw his employee holding it open for him with his arm. “You know there’s a button that will do that for you. Comes standard on all the Stark elevators.” 

The employee - one Mr. Peter Parker - dropped his arm and pushed the button for the R&D floor, which is exactly where he had planned on going first thing this morning. Not because of him, no of course not. No, he was going to R&D to make sure that things were running smoothly on the new work they were doing for an outside client. It was all hush hush, so he had to establish a group that he could trust to do this work, and Mr. Parker had come with a glowing recommendation from a good friend of his. But no - it wasn’t because of Mr. Parker. 

“Very funny, Mr. Stark.” Peter said as the elevator doors closed, leaving the two of them alone in the cabin. “What floor did you need today, sir?” 

“I’m heading where you’re heading.” Tony decided to see how he would react, and sure enough, he saw a look of surprise appear on his face. He knew the kid was young - fresh out of college, only twenty years of age. He’d personally looked at his resume, and saw that he’d gone to his alma mater and had graduated early due to an accelerated learning process. It was a no brainer to hire him. “How are things going right now on the project?” 

A soft yawn passed from Peter’s mouth, Tony noticing the slight bag under his eyes. No rest for the wicked. “They’re going well. We’ve got a prototype that we’re going to be working with this week. I don’t think it’s ready for your eyes yet.” 

“Kid, you know that I love to do this stuff. Don’t dangle that carrot in front of me, and then tell me that I can’t see it. That’s just rude.” 

Peter’s expression went from tired to scared in under two seconds flat. Shit. Tony wanted to tell him he was kidding, but Peter was already apologizing. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Stark! I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant that-” 

“Mr. Parker - it’s fine.” Tony waved his hand as the elevator came to a stop on their floor. “I know you didn’t mean anything bad by that. Look, I can go up to my office, if it’ll make you feel less stressed. You look like you’re about to pass out.” 

“I’m fine, sir.” He rolled his eyes, but kept a smirk on his lips as he heard Peter keep the apologetic tone in his voice. “Really. I’d love to show you what we’ve been working on, as long as you know it’s still in alpha.” 

“I’m very aware that it’s still in alpha. Maybe I can help offer some assistance if you’re having difficulty with certain aspects.” 

That seemed to smooth things over with Peter. “That’d be great, Mr. Stark. The other guys won’t be in for another hour, though.” 

“Why do you come so early, then?” It was curious to him, because Peter wasn’t hired as an hourly employee. He was on salary, with a schedule that he determined on a day to day basis per the contract that Tony had offered to him. He expected a fresh out of college student to take advantage of his niceness, but here Peter was, showing up at work at half past seven in the morning. 

“I like the peace and quiet.” Peter shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t do it every day.” 

“Yes, you do.” 

“How do you know?” 

The challenge in his voice made Tony’s smirk grow, as they walked down the hallway together. “You know that this is my company, right? I know everyone’s schedule.” 

“That’s impossible, Mr. Stark.” 

“Nothing’s impossible, Mr. Parker.” Tony watched him type in the code to go into the lab. “I’ll be back down in an hour to see how your work is going. Would you care for some coffee?” 

“Right now?” 

“No, in an hour.” He resisted the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose. It’s early. He was going to give Peter the benefit of the doubt right now. “Yes or no, Mr. Parker. This isn’t a difficult question.” 

“Yes, please. Hazelnut latte.” 

“Fancy.” Tony nodded his head, then continued on down to the lab that was his own. “See you in an hour.” He typed in his own code, and then headed inside, leaving Peter to stand alone in the hallway. 

It was always both exciting and nerve wracking to see Peter this early in the morning. It had only happened a few times, but even those few times had sent his heart racing. Again, Peter was a valuable asset to his company now, and he really couldn’t be thinking about these things because he had to be good. He couldn’t be an HR nightmare. It was sorely tempting, though. Peter was very attractive, both physically and mentally. Tony had really never met someone as bright as him in his forty-eight years on this earth. But would Peter even be interested? He had to wonder, because sometimes it felt like he was flirting but he’s been out of the game for so long that maybe that was wishful thinking on his part. 

Sitting at his bench, Tony looked at the work he’d left here the night before. It was still in the same state as it had been, his notes scattered everywhere. He was working on a new design for tech that he was hoping would change the landscape, but it was becoming more difficult by the day to make that a reality. The tech world moved so fast that it was hard to stay one step ahead of the competitor. Which is why he had hired people like Peter Parker to help step up that gap. 

Of course his thoughts went back to him. Dropping his head on his desk, Tony groaned. It was way too early to be thinking about this shit, and he really needed to get some work done. Ignoring those lecherous thoughts about Peter - how handsome he’d looked in his tight black muscle shirt with jeans, how his hair had flopped on his forehead when he’d nodded his head, that faint hint of cologne that Tony had caught a whiff of on the elevator - he picked up his tablet and asked Friday to set a reminder for fifty minutes. If he was going to bring Peter a hazelnut latte, he had to allow himself some time to do just that. He jumped into work, hoping for the best.

***

The week flew by, Tony staying later and later in the group R&D room each day as they were getting closer to a finished alpha product. Tony had taken to getting lunch and dinner for the group, knowing that if they didn’t eat that their minds would break faster than he wanted them to. He didn’t want them to break, but he knew that this work always seemed to take a toll on people. But the reward always outweighed the risk involved. 

Peter threw his hands up in the air. “Okay!! I think we’ve got it!” 

The rest of the lab got up from their stations, Tony staying in the corner, watching as they gathered around his desk. He didn’t want to seem like he was interested, because the last time he’d gone over when Peter had said something similar, he’d gotten chewed out by him. Which, again, no one had ever dared but that just made him like Peter more, because he knew the kid knew he was right. And he was. Shit fuck god damn it.

“Mr. Stark? Aren’t you coming over here?” Peter’s voice pulled him out of his head, as he nodded and walked over to where everyone was gathered. “What do you think?” 

He looked at the item, and saw that it was performing just as he’d hoped it would. “I think that’s great, Peter.” He saw him quickly look up at him, Tony trying to figure out what would cause him to look up like that, and then he realized he’d called him by his first name. “Show me what it can do.” 

They were then given a demonstration by Peter and his partner, the room watching in rapt silence as the device did what it was supposed to do. Tony couldn’t have been happier, seeing the excitement on everyone’s face when they realized they had something really good here. That’s what made these early mornings bleeding into very late nights worth it.

“Congratulations, Mr. Parker. I believe you did it.” 

“Thank you, Mr. Stark!” 

While the rest of the team was busy talking about where they wanted to go and celebrate this achievement, Tony noticed that Peter wasn’t saying very much. Almost as if he was an outsider to his own team. He waited for the others to clear the room, Peter telling them he’d catch up to them later, and then went over to where he was sitting back down at the workbench. 

“You should go and celebrate, Mr. Parker.” Tony addressed him. He saw him jump, and held his hands up in defense. “I’m sorry - I’m still here.” 

“I c-can see that, Mr. Stark.” Peter rubbed his face with both of his hands, then shook his head. “No, I have more work to be done. They can go and celebrate if they want, but we’re not there. It’s close, though.” 

He approached him and put a hand on his shoulder, feeling him tense up but he refused to take it away. “Well, I want to celebrate, but those kids will be too nervous around me. How about you and I go and grab something to eat?” 

“Very funny, Mr. Stark.” 

“I’m serious.” Tony tried again, hoping that he wasn’t about to be denied. Although, he wouldn’t put it past Peter to say no. “I want to take you out.” 

“To celebrate.” The indignation in his voice really cut through him like a knife. 

“And if I said it was more than that?” He leaned up against the workbench, and crossed his arms over his chest. He saw Peter’s head snap up, then saw him wince slightly. “What? Is that really so surprising to you?” 

“If I say yes, are you going to believe me?” Peter asked, staring up at him now without any fear in his eyes. 

“I mean, you make it kind of difficult not to.” Tony shrugged his shoulders, but kept a smirk on his lips. “Come on. Let’s go find some good food and celebrate.” 

“I’m not really dressed for something fancy, Mr. Stark.” Looking over at Peter, he saw he was wearing a hooded sweatshirt - he preferred to keep this floor extra cool due to the tech they were building - and a pair of jeans. He himself was wearing a three-piece grey suit, but that was normal. “Can we raincheck?” 

“No.” He shook his head. “Fine, I’ll compromise. We’ll grab something to go, and then go back to my apartment to celebrate.” 

“W-Why would you want me to come to your place? That’s crazy talk, Mr. Stark.” 

“Peter, we’re really going to have to work on that self esteem of yours, aren’t we?” Peter looked away, but he could see there was a hint of a blush on his cheeks. “Look - it’ll be strictly business, okay? Two colleagues, celebrating a success. That’s it.” 

“You sure?” 

Not at all. “I am.” Tony nodded his head, as if forcing himself to believe it. “Now, come on. I’m starving.” 

“Yes, Mr. Stark.” 

*** 

Tony had two separate penthouse apartments in Manhattan, because why not. He’d owned this before redesigning Stark Industries tower to have a home built into it. This apartment overlooked Central Park, and cost a pretty penny back in the day. He used his thumbprint to open the door, happy to see Peter following him in with a wide look of shock on his face. 

“You’ve seen this place before.” Tony shook his head, as he closed the door. “It’s been featured plenty of times in magazines.” 

“Yeah, but seeing it with my own eyes is something else.” Peter held up the bags of food they’d picked up from Ruth Chris’. “Where am I putting these?” 

“Over on the kitchen counter. I’ll plate them up and then we’ll eat. Did you want some wine with dinner?” 

Peter shook his head. “I’m not old enough to drink.” 

“You’re killing me, Peter.” He saw that blush return to his cheeks, Tony smirking a little. “A glass of wine isn’t going to kill you. I’m sure you drank at MIT.” 

“I mean…” 

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” Tony was happy to see Peter relaxing a little. “Feel free to take your sweatshirt off if you want. I don’t keep my home as cold as the office.” Wanting to ease any discomfort he might have, Tony took off his own suit jacket, and loosened the tie around his neck. “Cabernet or Pinot Noir?” 

“Uh….the second?” 

“Good choice.” Although he knows that Peter probably has no idea about either wine, he was going to say it anyway. He personally preferred Pinot Noir to that. But he would have gladly had the other if Peter wanted, but it seemed pretty clear that he had no idea. “Feel free to keep your shoes on if you want, or take them off. It doesn’t matter to me. I, however, am going to take mine off.” 

“O-Okay, Mr. Stark.” 

He looked over at Peter. “Please - you don’t have to be so formal in my home. You can call me Tony.” 

“P-Please call me Peter, then.” 

“It’d be my pleasure, Peter.” Tony saw the blush return, then turned around to head to the kitchen to get their dinner situated. 

In his socked feet, he brought over the plates to the dining room table, then grabbed a bottle of Pinot Noir from his wine fridge. He saw that Peter had taken both his shoes and sweatshirt off, but still looked a little green around the gills. “Thank you, M-Tony.” 

“You’re welcome.” He uncorked the bottle and poured some wine into both of their glasses, and sat down. “I hope you like the food. It’s not the best steakhouse, but it’s the closest to my place that wasn’t going to have a horrible wait.” 

“It’s okay. It’s definitely a treat. I’ve never had their steak before.” Peter picked up his steak knife, and then sliced into the filet that Tony had purchased for him. The expression on his face changed to one of glee as he chewed. “This meat is so tender!” 

“If you think this is good, then I’ll definitely have to take you to Gallaghers.” Tony casually mentioned as he took a bite of his own steak. 

Dinner was a quiet affair, Peter seeming to relax more as he drank his wine. Did Tony feel a tiny bit guilty that he was pouring with a heavy hand? Maybe a little. But hearing Peter talk so animatedly was really something that he was enjoying thoroughly. He did grab some water, and poured them both a glass, wanting to make sure that Peter didn’t think he was taking advantage of his normal quiet demeanor. At the end of the meal, they were both stuffed, pleasantly so. 

“I got dessert, but I think I need to make room by digesting some food first.” Tony rubbed his stomach, and saw Peter laugh. “Do you have to go?” 

“I should...” 

“I understand.” He was quick to say, not wanting Peter to feel at all obligated to hang around longer than he wanted. Although he did have visions of the two of them sitting together on the couch, maybe having a little more wine and then head to his bedroom, but that was a very tall order than he knew probably wasn’t something that Peter was interested in. Which he respected and understood because who the hell would want that from the man who was their boss? 

“I wasn’t finished.” Peter’s brown eyes turned towards him, Tony suddenly feeling very hot from the look in his eyes. 

“Please, go ahead and finish your thought.” Tony somehow managed to get out without stumbling over his words, his mouth terribly dry at the moment. 

Peter stepped towards him, the two of them in the kitchen as Peter had helped bring in the dishes. “I was going to say that I should go, but I don’t want to. If I stay, though - that might be bad.” 

“Why would it be bad?” He asked, his hands itching to reach out and grab Peter. The closer he stepped towards him, the more difficult it was becoming to not touch him. 

“I’m not sure we’re on the same page.” Peter stopped when he was directly in front of him. “Because I have feelings for you, and I’m not sure you feel the same way.” 

Tony blinked a few times, trying to process what Peter had just said to him. “I beg your pardon?” 

“I know you’re being nice right now, but are you really being nice? Or is it something more?” 

“You’re joking, right?” He figured his flirting was more noticeable but again, maybe he’s been out of the game for so long that what he thinks is obvious maybe isn’t quite as bad. “Of course I like you, Peter. I asked you to dinner, didn’t I?” 

“Yes, but that was because we had a breakthrough.” 

“Do you see the rest of the team in my apartment?” Tony asked, no longer resisting the urge as he dropped both of his hands onto Peter’s waist. “Yes, it’s something more. Hell, I’d be thrilled if you wanted to spend the night here tonight, but I figured that wasn’t something you would be into.” 

“Why would you think that?” Brown eyes stared up at him with curiosity shining bright, but there was also a heat in them that Tony could feel going right to his crotch as he kept his own gaze locked with Peter’s. “I wouldn’t say no.” 

“Great.”

He didn’t bother saying anything else, and instead yanked Peter up against this body and began to kiss him. Moaning low into his mouth, he gave a little prod with the tip of his tongue against the seam of his lips, Peter’s mouth opening for him with the suggestive touch. He groaned as he touched his tongue to Peter’s for the first time, undeniable heat coursing through his body as Peter brought his arms to lock around his neck.

Breaking off the kiss with a deep groan, Tony’s lips started to kiss a path down to the slender column of his neck, nipping a little as he listened to Peter make the most delectable sound. “Oh, God….T-That’s so nice…” Peter’s whispered moans kept Tony’s lips against his neck, kissing a path down to his clavicle, and then back  up to his earlobe. “M-More, Tony….?” 

Hearing him say his first name did something to his body. Tony quickly moved his head to the opposite side of Peter’s neck, and began to kiss it in much the same way as he had before. Peter’s fingers dug into his shoulders, Tony dragging his beard along the sensitive skin as he nipped and kissed a path up and down his neck. “Do you like how this feels, Peter?” 

“I do…” Another breathy moan left Peter’s mouth, Tony pushing him up against the counter as he really started to go to town on his neck. “Oh G-God, d-don’t leave a mark….” 

“Is that you telling me to?” He chuckled low, the hand that had been holding Peter’s hip was now slipping back to grab a handful of his ass. “Or is that really you telling me to not?” 

The way Peter tilted his head towards him was an open invitation, the look in his eyes one that explained to Tony clearly what he wanted. He bit his lip and gave a nod of his head, then dropped his head back to his neck and let his teeth sink down into the taut flesh, moaning low as he sucked a mark right at where his collar would cover it. 

“T-Thank you.” Peter stared up at him with blown out pupils, his mouth slightly agape as Tony lifted his hand to cradle his cheek. “It won’t show, right?” 

“It might, but only a tiny bit.” Tony glanced down and saw the broken blood vessels already coming up towards the top layer. “Do you want to spend the night, Peter? If you say no, I won’t think any less of you.” 

A nod of his head was all Tony needed to see. He grabbed onto Peter’s hand and dragged him to his bedroom, not bothering to say a word, and instead kissed him with a frenzy that he knew was going to be something easy to get addicted to. He felt Peter’s fingers unbuttoning the vest he still wore, and then his hands were going to the hem of his shirt, yanking it up over his head as the buttons on his shirt went flying every which way. He laughed, and heard Peter gasp, but then started to laugh with him as they both fell onto the bed with each other. 

“We’re going to have to be more careful.” Tony teased, the smile on his face laxing as he felt Peter’s lips now touching his own neck. “Oh, yes….That’s real nice, Peter….” 

“G-Good, I’m glad you like it, Tony.” Another kiss, and then he felt Peter’s lips touch his again with another urgent kiss that left him breathless. 

They both got out of the rest of their clothes, and then Tony was reaching for the lube and condoms he kept in his nightstand drawer. He held both up to Peter, who gave his consent with another nod of his head. Smiling, Tony poured a little onto his fingers, and then pushed his hand between Peter’s thighs, letting his fingers tease around the rim of his puckering hole. 

“W-We’re really doing this, aren’t we?” Peter asked, Tony now settled between his thighs, the tip of his condom-covered cock now pushing with insistence against the loosened hole that he’d taken his time working open. Peter’s moans had been so utterly divine that he really hadn’t wanted to stop, but then his begging had prompted him to listen. 

“Last chance to say no.” Tony said, even though it would kill him to stop this fast moving train right now. “Yes or no, Pete?” 

A leg wrapped around his waist, and without warning he was sinking into Peter’s tight heat, Tony releasing a deep moan as he sank his cock into Peter’s body. He heard him release a pitched moan, the hair on his arms raising up as that cry filled his ears. Tony dropped his head and began to kiss his lips over and over, a silent apology for going too fast, but then that pressure around his cock began to loosen as Peter relaxed for him. That small little act was enough for him as he began to roll his hips, finding a good rhythm that would suit the both of them. 

Tony snaked his hand between their bodies, grabbing onto Peter’s cock with a firm grip. “OH!” Peter tossed his head back, as Tony drilled more of his cock into his body. “Toooony….” 

“Come for me, Peter…” Tony moaned low, feeling how heavy Peter’s cock was, and then felt his body squeeze tight around him as liquid heat began to spill over his fingers. “Yes, baby….” He tried to piston his hips more, but came up short as Peter’s inner walls were clamped down too tight. He moaned low as he began to come hard, filling the condom with his mess as his body grew flush from head to toe. 

He pulled back and slipped out of Peter, grabbing some tissue to pull off the condom and then tossed the mess into the wastebasket next to his nightstand. He grabbed a few more and cleaned up the mess on Peter’s stomach, but not before dropping his head to lick some of the spunk off of him. He heard him moan, the touch of his fingers in his hair had Tony licking up more, and then he moved his mouth down to the source and gave it a few gentle licks, the soft whimper leaving Peter’s throat sending a slight shiver down his body. 

“T-Thank you.” Peter said, as he moved to lay next to him on the bed, his pupil still dilated as Tony stared into his eyes. “A-Are things gonna change now between us at work?” 

“They don’t have to.” Tony touched his face, smiling as Peter closed his eyes and leaned into the touch. “We can do whatever you want. I’m open to suggestions.” 

“I think it would look bad if people knew we were together.” 

“Thanks, I think.” He saw Peter’s mouth drop open which caused him to laugh. “Pete, I’m kidding. I know that you think it would be better for the company if we kept it private.” Peter nodded his head. “I’m okay with that. But if we’re behind closed doors - alone?” 

“All bets are off.” 

“I like the sound of that.” 

Laying in bed together, Tony felt Peter press lazy kisses to his neck, the softness of each kiss filling him with a tender warmth he hadn’t felt in ages. It was really nice. He knew he was going to be in trouble very soon with Peter because he was already falling for him and that was a bad sign. 

***

The next day at work, it was business as usual, but Tony made sure to schedule a time for Peter to come to his office - alone. Which, as Peter entered the office with a quizzical look on his face to keep up an appearance, it was quick to disappear as soon as the door closed. Tony groaned as Peter showed him the blooming mark on his neck, and then came over to him and nipped at his own neck, much the same way that he’d been woken up this morning. 

As Peter straddled his lap, Tony looked up at him and grinned. “How’s your day been, honey? Been productive?” 

“Yes.” Peter nodded, as another kiss touched his neck. “But, I think I’ve got something wrong with me.” 

“Oh? Tell me what’s wrong, and I’ll see what I can do.” 

Peter’s lips touched his ear. “I want your cock in me, Tony.” 

“I guess it’s a good thing it’s already hard and ready for you, baby.” He returned, speaking directly into his ear with a deeper than normal voice. “Look at you, being naughty at work.” He teased, as he reached into his desk and grabbed a condom. “I’m definitely not opposed to an afternoon delight.” 

His young lover grabbed the condom and grinned. “We might be having those a lot, Tony. And mid-morning planning sessions.” 

“Sounds like your boss is going to be a real slave driver.” He leaned back in his chair as Peter slipped off of his lap to put the condom on his cock. “I’ll have to make sure he doesn’t overwork you.” 

“What if I want him to?” Peter returned to his lap, without pants on. Tony groaned as he felt him rub against the tip of his cock, and then watched as he slowly sank down on him. “Please, Tony?” 

“I can’t say no to that.” Tony really couldn’t. Putting his hand on the back of Peter’s head, he brought their lips together and began to kiss him hard as he bottomed out. 

It was going to be another long day, but if these little extracurricular activities were going to become a regular thing between him and Peter, then he could see nothing wrong with that. He would gladly suffer through long days if it meant he was going to be treated to this gloriousness each and every single day. And from what Peter just said, that was definitely how it was going to be. 

XxX

Cross-posted to AO3

[slapshot-to-the-heart]

Flatbush & Atlantic: part v

Here we have part v! Took me a little longer than usual, but I’m really happy with how it turned out - it’s All Star Weekend with our favorite couple, folks! I haven’t been getting as much engagement as usual with the posts, so please feel free to reblog it and pop into my inbox!

part i part ii part iii part iv

part v

January 28

Cass sat on a metal bench at JFK, legs propped up on her carry-on, eyes flitting between the departures screen and her phone. Mat walked through the sliding doors to her left, catching her eye with a quick wave and smile. If he wanted to travel incognito in Long Island, though, the suit bag and “these-are-more-expensive-than-they-look” sunglasses weren’t helping his cause. “You’ve got the tickets?” She asked. After much convincing, Cass finally agreed to let Mat buy the tickets; he said it would be easier to make sure they were seated together, and had told her to think of it as a belated Christmas present if she’d like. 

Mat nodded, gesturing towards the check-in counters. “Shall we?”

Cat grabbed his hand in her own as they walked to the counter. It hadn’t even crossed her mind that they’d be travelling anything but economy — she never had, after all — so she was more than a little surprised when he steered her and their bags towards American’s first-class check-in. He looked down at her. “What? You think I’d let you go to the All-Star Game in anything but the best? Nah, we’re travelling in style, babe.” Cass flushed, handing over her bags to be weighed and taking the boarding pass from the flight attendant with a harried thanks. 

“Qu-est-ce que c’est, chère?” Mat asked, brushing a kiss over the top of her head as they headed up the escalator. French had been her foreign language in high school and college; it had gotten rusty, but Mat and Tito had been more than happy to practice with her, though Beau’s Québécois accent sometimes proved a little difficult to understand. 

“I’m just really excited for this weekend. I know how much it means to you to be on the team and competing in the skills competition again, and I’m lucky to be able to see you do what you love.” 

After a less-than-ideal forty minutes in the security line, Cass handed her license and Mat’s passport over to the TSA agent, who gave them a cursory once-over before marking their boarding passes and letting them through the scanner. 

They boarded the Delta flight some 40 minutes later, after a much-needed pit-stop at the Starbucks. The flight attendants took their coats and showed them to their seats, and before Cass knew it she was seated in a very large, very comfortable chair that had more legroom than she thought humanly possible, a glass of champagne perched on her tray table. “Is this how you live? All the time?” She whispered to Mat, stunned. 

“Sometimes,” he admitted. “The team charters a plane for games and I usually don’t do first class to go back home, but this is a special occasion. It deserves it, you deserve it.” He pressed a kiss to her cheek, pulling out his Airpods. “We’ve got just enough time to get through Pirates of the Carribean before we land. What do you say?” 

Their plane landed a few hours later, the two catching an Uber to the hotel about twenty minutes away. Apparently there had been “a car” coming for them, but Cass balked at the idea, insisting that the Toyota Corolla coming to pick them up was more than enough for her. 

“Hi, checking in for Barzal,” Mat said, smiling at the receptionist. 

“One moment,” she replied, tapping on the computer and turning around to grab two key cards. “You two will be in room 307, third floor. Elevators are that way. Enjoy your stay!” Mat took the cards, handing one to Cass as they turned towards the row of elevators. As excited as she was, Cass was also just the tiniest bit apprehensive about sharing a room with Mat for a whole weekend. She had spent the night once or twice since the Christmas party, and had officially been granted “a drawer” in his dresser, but it was still the longest (relatively) uninterrupted time she’d spend with him. 

There were a few hours before the festivities kicked off with some sort of red carpet-type thing, so Cass pulled out her laptop and got to work while Mat went off to exercise in the hotel gym. None of her professors this semester recorded lectures, so she was relying on good friends and a strong Wifi connection to get the notes from the one class she was missing. Cass wasn’t one to skip out on responsibilities and she did feel bad about not being there, but she had earned a break. 

Mat came back a little while later, and Cass took that as her cue to start getting ready. After he got out of the shower, she took over the bathroom, spreading her makeup, brushes, and precisely-3.4-ounce bottle of hairspray over the counter. This was the first big event she was going to as a WAG, and nerves were flying. Cass was already well aware that she didn’t fit into the typical mold, and hated the fact that she felt like she had to justify herself everywhere she went. And it didn’t help that Mat wasn’t just one of the best young players in the NHL in recent memory, but also a total smokeshow of a man who had hundreds of women falling at his feet. 

But galas, parties, extravagant events were nothing new to her. She had been the president of her sorority at UConn, organizing and attending more than her fair share of her own formals and semiformals or accompanying a friend or boyfriend to theirs. And law school called for dressing up more than occasionally. She was no stranger to impressing people. The dress was light blue to coordinate with Mat’s suit, heavily beaded, and absolutely gorgeous. This was the one part of the trip that she had absolutely refused to let Mat pay for, even though he offered. The league covered the room and he had gotten the flights, and her ego needed to pick up at least a marginal part of the expenses. 

She twisted her hair up into a bun, bobby pins stuck in her mouth as she pulled out a few strands of hair. Setting spray? Check. Lipstick? A deep rose shade that she’d had since her first year of law school, so, check. “You almost ready to go, chou?” She asked, leaning down to her suitcase and grabbing the strappy heels she’d picked out for the night.

“Uh, yeah,” Mat said, buttoning his suit jacket. He usually had pretty good taste even before they started dating, but the navy blue velvet suit he was wearing was really something else. “Wow, you look amazing, Cass.”

She smiled, stepping towards him. “The lipstick’s kiss-proof, you know.”

He raised one eyebrow. “You wanna try that out?”

---

It was a fifteen minute drive to the venue, the car the league had sent packed with players and their partners, or whoever else had managed to wrangle a spot. She thinks there were some cousins involved? Mat got out before her, holding the door open while he leaned down. “The reporters are usually fine, they get that most of you guys aren’t used to this,” he murmured, “but you don’t have to answer anything you don’t want to, I’ll say something if I see it getting out of line.” 

She squeezed his hand in appreciation, taking a breath to steady her nerves before following him onto the red carpet. After posing for a few photos, they moved onto the reporters, Mat getting steered towards someone who Cass was pretty sure was from SportsCenter, but she couldn’t be positive in the crowd of hundreds. Cass briefly introduced herself, stepping slightly to the side as the conversation’s topics veered towards strategy and expectations, how best to manage playing with only three players and how he was feeling about his chances for fastest skater. 

“And you’ve brought your lovely girlfriend Cassidy along, how did you two meet?” Cass heard her name mentioned, quickly snapping out of the daydream she had been lost in. Fluff pieces were nothing new and she knew it would come up, everyone loved getting to know the players outside of a strictly hockey context. 

“Yeah, so I’m in law school, and I got an internship with the counsel’s office for the Islanders,” Cas started, “and I helped Mat with some visa stuff. He kept trying to drop hints that he was into me, but—”

“They weren’t hints. I was being as obvious as possible,” Mat deadpanned. Cass giggled. 

“Well, yeah, in retrospect I was just being incredibly oblivious, but came to one day, and the rest is history.” Mat leaned down, brushing a kiss over her cheek, and Cass could see camera flashes go off in her peripherals. She’d have to track that picture down later.

The interviewer nodded, asking a few follow-ups on her exposure to hockey growing up, her dress, and one more. “So, you hardly live the typical life of a hockey girlfriend. What do you think about that?”

Cass was confused. “Pardon?”

“Law school, being a lawyer. That’s not something that you typically see WAGs pursue, especially considering the salaries NHLers make. It’s not like they have to do much.” Cass was floored. How could someone be so disrespectful, not only to her, but to every other woman in her position? She was struggling to come up with a response. As it would happen, she didn’t need to. 

“Excuse me?” Mat’s response was dripping venom. “Why would you ask something like that?”

The interviewer tried to backtrack, but ended up digging himself into an ever deeper hole. “Well, I just meant that you don’t see it often, which is true—”

“Maybe you don’t, but that shouldn’t matter,” Mat said. “Being a stay-at-home mom or running charity events is awesome if that’s something that they want to do, but it’s not for everyone. And don’t you dare ever suggest that Cass hasn’t worked hard as hell to get to where she is. She’s graduating in five months from an Ivy League law school, and she’s the smartest person I’ve ever met. Don’t ever talk about her that way. Don’t ever talk about any woman that way.” He turned away, his hand on Cass’ upper back. “Don’t ever let anyone undersell you. You’ve worked too damn hard and come too damn far.”

 Jan. 29 (fri)

 Cass smoothed out her dress, taking a last-minute look in the mirror to make sure nothing was stuck in her teeth. “How do I look?” She asked, turning to Mat. 

“You look great, babe. Stop stressing.” She had picked a floral dress and denim jacket for breakfast with Mat’s family, but couldn’t stop wringing her hands in worry. Mat crossed the room in three steps, holding her hands still and looking at her more intensely than she had ever seen. “Remember when I was losing my shit meeting your parents?” Cass gave a tearful nod. “And it all turned out okay and now I text your brother probably more than you do?” 

She laughed. “Noah worships you, and my dad loves you. Thinks you’re ‘good for me,’ whatever he means by that.”

“I think,” Mat said, tapping her temple with one finger, “that sometimes you get a little stuck up here. You’re so smart, and it’s incredible, but you overthink things sometimes, pretty girl.”

She ducked her head. “That’s probably true.” 

“But what I meant to say is that it turned out I had nothing to worry about. And neither do you, my parents will love you and Liana’ll just be excited to have another girl around to complain about me to. It’s going to go great,” he added with finality. 

“You promise?” Cass asked.

Mat kissed her, soft and sweet and slow, the kind of kiss that wasn’t born of passion and lust but of just genuine deep trust and affection. The kind of kiss that brings your feet back to the ground when your head’s stuck off in the clouds. “I promise.”

Cass flashed a small smile, squeezing Mat’s hand in hers and heading towards the door. “Then I guess we’d better get going.” She had been up late the night before, searching on Yelp for the perfect restaurant, despite Mat’s continual claims that they’d “love wherever, they just want food.” Though, she’s not sure what she expected when asking a 20-something man what he wanted to eat. There was a cute place a ten minute drive away, with four-point-seven stars and reviews that said their quiches were the “best thing on this godforsaken planet,” according to IridescentGymRat44. Cass loved quiches. 

It was a quick Uber over, Mat’s mom having texted him that they had already arrived and snagged a table in the back for privacy. It may have been a family event, but it was still All-Star Weekend and Mat was still, well, Mat. It wasn’t likely he could fly under the radar for too long. He rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand reassuringly as they turned the corner, and his face split into a wide grin at the sight of his family. Hugging each of them quickly, he stepped back to introduce Cass, one hand lightly resting on the small of her back. “This is Cass, my girlfriend.”

“Yeah, we figured,” Liana said pointedly, causing Cass to poorly cover up a snort of amusement, which in turn just caused everyone to laugh even more at their efforts trying not to laugh so hard. 

As it would turn out, Mat was right. She really had nothing to worry about; his parents embraced her (literally and metaphorically) as soon as she set down and his sister immediately whipped out her phone to show his worst baby pictures. “Hey,” she said, as Mat glared at her, “you deserve to know what you’re getting yourself into.” They were interested in her work and school, and Mat gladly took the liberty of explaining how they met, earning a slap on the back of his head from his mom when he got to the part with the visa slipup. They said their goodbyes sometime around eleven; Cass would have liked to stay longer, but everyone needed to get back to their hotels and ready for the skills competitions in the afternoon. 

“Excited to defend the title?” Cass said, bumping her shoulder against Mat as they walked down the hallway to their room. 

“Yeah, I guess,” Mat said, shrugging slightly. “Obviously it would be great to win, but there’s still McDavid and Eichel and a ton of other guys that have just as good of a chance to run away with this thing.” After his win last year, it was no shock that Mat had been picked for the fastest skater competition again, but the hordes of fans and reporters who were expecting him to go back-to-back weren’t helping his nerves. They reached the door, Mat shoving his hand into his pocket to dig out the key card. 

“Look at me,” Cass said softly, once they had gotten their shoes off and were propped up next to each other in bed. Mat’s head turned, his hand still absentmindedly tangled in her curls. “You’re going to do great. Win or lose. I believe it, your family believes it, the other guys on the team believe it. Now all we need is for you to believe it yourself.”

---

Cass was walking through the tunnels of the BB&T Center, phone pressed to her cheek as she tried to listen to her dad on the other end of the line. A few players and their families were milling about, some getting ready to compete in their skills competitions, others catching up with old friends. “Oh, and you booked the tickets to Hermosillo, yeah?” It was a family tradition for them to spend a few weeks every summer back in Mexico with her grandparents; they had split their time between San Antonio and their hometown ever since retirement. Cass always tried to make it, but the past summer she wasn’t able to wrangle the two weeks off from her job that she’d need for the trip, and it had crushed her. They weren’t getting any younger, and her abuelo had suffered a nasty stroke the year prior that made her all the more anxious to visit. 

“Yep, layover in Mexico City like usual, I’ll send you the ticket when the trip gets closer,” Patrick responded.

“And you’ve got everyone’s passport info?”

She could imagine her dad rolling his eyes. “Yes, Cassidy. Everything’s booked, everything’s fine. Have fun in Florida, tell Mat good luck from us.”

“Okay, I will. Love you, dad.” Cass said, running a hand through her hair. 

A voice that she didn’t quite recognize called her name, and as she turned around she was more than a little surprised to see Auston Matthews waving at her. “It is Cassidy, right?”

She nodded her head. “Cassidy, Cass, I’ll answer to both.”

The confusion on her face must have still been evident, because he followed up. “I follow Barzy on Instagram, he brags about you all the time.”

“Yeah, sounds like him,” she said, tapping her fingers on her thigh. 

“Are you going to introduce me?” His mom asked from beside him. 

“Oh, yeah, ‘course,” Auston said, stumbling over his words. “Mom, this is Cassidy, obviously. Cassidy — Cass?” He questioned, looking over at her. She nodded. “Cass, this is my mom Ema.” She greeted her with a warm hug, and Cass just about melted. Moms really do give the best hugs. 

Ema spoke up. “Do you have family in Hermosillo? I heard you mention it on the phone.”

“Mhm!” Cass’s head almost bounced from how fast she was nodding. “My grandparents split time between there and San Antonio, we try to visit for a few weeks every summer.”

“That’s where I grew up,” she responded, beaming. “It’s wonderful, but the summers get so hot, don’t they?” Cass and Auston both nodded. 

“I think it got up to 110º when I was there once? Maybe 115º? I want to lock myself in a freezer sometimes, I swear.” The whole group collapses into laughs, and spent a few minutes talking before Cass had to tear herself away and find her seats with Mat’s family for the fastest skater competition. Ema had left her with no fewer than three restaurant recommendations, making her swear to try them all. “Best tacos I’ve ever had,” she had said about one. 

Cass greeted Mat’s family with a wave as they settled into their seats, one row up from the ice on the right side. The players had just come out, and it only took a few seconds to make eye contact with Mat. She was wearing his — her — jersey, and had long since abandoned trying to roll up and cuff the sleeves. It wasn’t going to happen, and she kind of liked the feeling of being buried in it. She blew him a kiss as the announcers voices echoed through the stadium, and the heat was on. 

Mat was slated to go last, which was either the best or worst thing depending on how you thought about it. Cass was always someone to sign up for the first slot for speeches and presentations, and hated having late games in tournaments during her lacrosse days. She liked being able to get it over with. Mat was the opposite. He was competitive and stubborn to a fault, needing to size up the competition and get ahead of the game. Needed to know what to expect. There first few she didn’t recognize, a few first-time faces to the All-Star competition, a rookie from Winnipeg who was a favorite for the Calder. Everyone was doing well, really well — all the times but one were under 14 seconds, but nobody had broken Mat’s time yet. 

Eichel got close, McDavid got closer, and then Mat was up to defend his championship. She blew a kiss to him as he stepped up to the line, murmured a prayer, and the whistle blew. Clean straightaways, tight turns, gaining speed on the curves, and in the blink of an eye it was over. Cass knew he had won, the roar of the crowd told her as much, but she didn’t realize his time. She didn’t realize until the announcer reported that with a time of 13.080 seconds, Mathew Barzal had just set the record. His face was stunned for a moment, looking up at the screen and then down at the ice and then back up at the screen again, while being hugged and congratulated from all sides, as if trying to process what had just happened. 

It was the last one of the night, so Cass said her goodbyes to Mat’s family, with a promise to meet up before the game the next day, and hurried down to meet Mat. There wasn’t anything formal scheduled for the rest of the night, so he came out of the locker room in just a pair of athletic shorts and an Islanders t-shirt. Cass ran up, jumping into his arms as he dropped his bag to catch her. “Woah, babe,” he said, steadying his hands on the back of her thighs, “coulda given me a warning there.”

Cass kissed him. “Wouldn’t have been nearly as fun that way, though, huh?”

“You’re right.” Mat shrugged good-naturedly, setting Cass down and grabbing his bag and her hand. 

“How does it feel having beaten the record?” Cass asked. 

Mat ran his free hand through his hair, still shower-damp. “So surreal. I wasn’t even sure I’d win, not with how stacked the lineup was, let alone get anywhere near breaking the record. It’s ridiculous, but it’s amazing.”

“You’re amazing.”

 Jan. 30 (sat)

 Mat was busy doing media and catching up with some of the guys before the game later that day, and Cass had elected to stay in the room. Mat had offered for her to come along, “you might think it’s interesting?” he had noted, but she’d be damned if she let herself fall behind in her last semester, she was just too close. It had already been a bit of a stretch for her to take a day off and come for the whole weekend, so her afternoon was instead filled with some utterly thrilling reading on advanced contract theory and a thick-as-all-hell review book for the New York state bar. She leaned back in her chair, taking the last remaining sip of the mediocre Lipton tea she had snagged from the basket by the room’s coffee maker. She could finish it later.

Cass picked up her phone, pressing play on a voicemail from Fiona that had been left earlier in the afternoon. 

Uh, hey, it’s me. Cass, I don’t know if this is what you want to hear, but I don’t think I’d be a very good friend if I didn’t say it. Uh-oh. Conversations that started like that never ended well. I’m happy about you and Mat, I know you like him a lot, but I’m worried that he’s distracting you. I know you told us you’d be gone, but we missed you at the study group, and I know you skipped your law review meeting today. The rest of the message was more of the same, but one sentence stuck out to her. Think about where your priorities are. Think about where you want them to be. 

Fiona Chan had a one-track mind. And Cass loved her for it — she was one of the most dedicated people she knew and an incredible friend. But she sometimes found it hard to understand when people had priorities that extended beyond the bounds of law school, when their sole focus wasn’t on their Contracts final or clinic or clerkship they were doing for some top-tier appellate judge. 

She flopped back on the bed. Think about where your priorities are. She had been spending a lot of time with Mat lately, but no more than anyone would spend with their significant other — right? And it wasn’t a sin for her to have a life outside of law school. She was still more than competent at her job, got most of the reading done, was prepared when professors would cold-call on her. She still showed up to meetings. 

But even she would admit that her head wasn’t in the game all the time, if she could hazard another High School Musical reference. She’d sneak texts, meet him for lunch instead of going to office hours, and now, take weekends off to be with him. But that wasn’t a bad thing. Or was it? Her grades weren’t really suffering, and nobody else had mentioned anything. Friends notice things, though, Cass thought. And Fiona was one of the most perceptive people she knew. She groaned. Why wasn’t there ever an easy way to figure these things out? She really liked Mat — she might even love him — but Cass couldn’t help but feel like she was gambling on something that wasn’t a sure thing. And her future wasn’t something to play games with. 

[the-hidden-writer]

A Second Chance: Chapter 10

An Ace Attorney fanfic. Available to read on both AO3 and Fanfiction.net!

Summary: Miles learns the identity of his “dead” mother, and the aftermath of that revelation is a tricky one. Especially when his newfound little sister is trying to turn him into a spirit medium.

AKA Miles is a Fey. Miles also doesn’t really know how to family properly.

Chapter summary: Franziska Von Karma.

Comments make my day! :D

The Other Sister

She was making history. She was actually making history. People would recognize her on the streets and come up to ask her ‘how did you do it?’. She would laugh and say that she was never going to reveal her secret methods. Nick would be beyond jealous that he wasn’t the one to accomplish such a feat. 

...or maybe nobody would ever believe that she managed to get Miles Edgeworth to t-pose in the middle of his office. 

Maybe it would just be the stuff of legends. It would turn into a rumor, which would quickly dissolve into long-forgotten history.

Nevertheless, this was probably the proudest moment of her life.

“Is this really necessary?” Miles said through gritted teeth as Maya wound the tape measure around his torso. “It would be much easier if I just told you my measurements. I do have them written down-”

Maya pulled back and looked up at him sternly. 

“Yeah, but this isn’t for any of your fancy suits, is it?” She reprimanded with a twinkle in her eyes. “My friend Soma agreed to put a lot of work into this for free so the least you can do is give her the fresh measurements she needs.”

Miles groaned. “Fine, just get it over with quickly.”

Phoenix sniggered from Edgeworth’s fancy maroon couch.

The truth is that Soma in fact did not need specifically new measurements. She’d actually been pretty insistent to make sure that Miles didn’t go out of his way. But what’s the point of having a brother if you don’t get to have a little fun?

She called out the number to Phoenix (who lazily scribbled it down on a notepad) before turning back to Miles with a cheeky smirk.

“Now for the waist.”

Ah, the beautiful, beautiful color his cheeks went as he tensed and glared at her. The moment was short-lived, however, as he soon relaxed and relented. He begrudgingly lifted his arms higher in the glorious t-pose that Maya had put him in.

As soon as she’d had the brilliant idea of getting Edgeworth his own robe a few days before, she’d immediately rushed to the phone to call her friend Soma. Mystic Soma Sheen was a couple of years older than Maya but had been her best friend for many years while her sister was away. She also happened to be one of the most talented seamstresses in the village.

The Sheen family had always been very close to the main Fey family, and therefore Pearl had recently gone into the care of Soma and her mother, Elder Saima Sheen. After all the drama with her aunt, Maya trusted no-one else.

There was a loud knock at the door.

“Do not come in!” Edgeworth shouted desperately.

Poor guy, thought Maya as Miles began to vibrate with anxiousness. Maybe it was time to give him a break.

That being said, she had let him close the curtains, and she still hadn’t gotten revenge for how much he’d hurt her with his words the week before…

“Come in now!” She called happily, just as she moved the tape measure to below Edgeworth’s waist.

In barged Detective Gumshoe, huffing and puffing and leaving the door wide open. Judging by how flustered he looked, Miles was probably never going to forgive her for this betrayal. It was worth it.

Annoyingly for her though, Gumshoe didn’t seem to bat an eye at the questionable positions they were in right now.

“I thought I told you to wait, detective! You don’t take orders from her! Your salary will pay for thi-”

“Look, I’m sorry sir!” Gumshoe wheezed. “But I ran up here to warn you that-”

Click. Click. Click.

In that moment, all the color drained from Edgeworth’s face. He froze, mid-glare. Even Gumshoe cringed.

Phoenix sat up. “What?”

Click-click-click-click-click-click-

Miles barely managed to whisper “No…” (which Maya only caught because of how close she was to him) before what came the deafening sound of a whip hitting wood.

“MILES EDGEWORTH! YOU-”

The second the owner of the voice came into view, her furious expression morphed into one of utter confusion.

Miles just looked like a deer caught in headlights.

“Franziska, I-”

“Phoenix Wright.” The new arrival snarled, her voice dripping with venom. 

Her attention focused back onto Edgeworth and she must have realized the extremely questionable position Maya and Miles were standing in. 

“What are you doing?!”

Miles suddenly snapped out of the freeze-frame and pushed Maya away as quickly as he could. He then outstretched a hand to Franziska almost desperately.

“Franziska… I can explain-”

“Explain what, Miles Edgeworth?! You ignore my texts, you make me worry about you, and here you are GALLIVANTING with these FOOLS!”

As her anger increased, so did Edgeworth’s discomfort.

“Maya, Phoenix, detective, can you give us a moment?” He asked through gritted teeth, though without taking his eyes off Franziska.

Maya, who as much as she wanted to know what would happen, was more than happy to almost run out through the large wooden doors of Edgeworth’s office with Gumshoe hot on her heels. Phoenix seemed more hesitant and kept his own eyes on Miles in concern. Maya could have sworn he mouthed ‘You didn’t tell her?’ at him, before also creeping past the furious woman to join her, pulling the heavy doors shut behind him.

Once satisfied that the door had creaked shut and that they were alone, Miles dared to let out a small sigh. Franziska still stood tensely in front of the doorway, though now that the doors were shut there was no light reflecting off her back, making her appear all the more menacing.

“An explanation?” She demanded, bringing her arm closer to her chest in order to hold her whip with both hands.

Miles grimaced. “It’s a rather long story.”

Franziska crossed her arms defiantly and took a step forward. “Then start talking. Now.”

Miles had thought about telling Franziska so many times over the past few weeks, but was ashamed to admit that he’d been terrified to actually do so. There was no doubt that she’d be angry about it (more than usual) and the last thing he wanted was a big confrontation.

But by acting as a coward, that’s what he ended up with anyway.

“You recall the Hazakura Temple case?” He asked, thinking that it would be the best place to start.

“Hmm.” Franziska replied, but he knew her well enough to hear the faintest sliver of nervousness in her voice. That case had been far from normal and had left its scars on every person involved.

“Well,” he continued, “do you remember the name of the victim?”

“Of course I do!” She scoffed, before raising her whip threateningly. “Stop talking to me like a child, Miles Edgeworth! I know what you’re like, so just tell me!”

“Misty Fey was my mother.”

She gasped and stumbled backwards. Miles hung his head in shame.

“What do you mean?” She asked him hesitantly. “What do you-”

“You know what I mean.” Miles confirmed quietly, refusing to look up. He didn’t want to see the emotions on her face- she didn’t show them often, but he knew when she was. Call it… ha, call it brother instinct.

“Gregory Edgeworth-” Franziska began, and he could tell that she was pacing around now.

“-was my father.” He completed. He still didn’t look up. “In the same way that Misty Fey was my mother.”

“Impossible!” She screamed. “That’s- that’s impossible!”

And then she went quiet. Miles only looked up out of curiosity. 

She had her back to him, and her fists were clenched. She’d long dropped her trademark whip, and it lay sprawled out on the polished wooden floor.

“When did you find out?”

He could have lied to save her feelings, but he would never lie to her. If she ever found out at least, he would have to suffer the consequences in the most painful way possible. “A few weeks ago.”

She let out some sort of grunt of frustration, but all Miles saw was her shoulders tense. 

“I pity you, Little Brother.” She whispered, just loud enough for him to hear. “You have to carry three legacies on your frail shoulders.”

“What do you mean?” He knew exactly what she meant, but he needed to hear her say it. To try and gauge exactly how she felt.

“The Von Karma legacy, the… Edgeworth legacy, and now the Fey legacy.”

He slowly moved around his desk to sit at his chair. He just… needed to sit down. She must have heard his movement and finally turned to look at him over her shoulder. From what he could see, her eyes were sparkling with passion and pain.

“I don’t believe that’s true.” He said. “I think that two of those roles have already been taken on. You are the Von Karma legacy, my dear, and Maya is the Fey’s.”

Upon hearing Maya’s name, Franziska whirled around and stormed up to his desk.

“She is your sister.” She stated.

“Yes.”

“Your little sister.” 

“Yes.”

“Is that why she is here?”

“In a sense… yes.”

She slammed her fists on the desk, and he cringed. “So you are spending time with these fools, and you didn’t even think of telling me? ME?!”

“I needed to spend time with my little sister.” He chose his words carefully, but it still felt extremely... wrong saying it to Franziska. 

Her clenched fists were still lingering on the desk. He put his hands over his, covering them completely. “Surely my big sister can understand that?”

This seemed to melt her, and he felt her hands relax under his. Her shoulders began to shake, and the tears began to finally well up in her eyes.

To anyone listening, it would have just been an odd thing to say. But to the two of them, it was more than words. It moved mountains.

“You’re not… you’re not abandoning me?”

“Never, Franziska.”

Not even after your father killed mine, he didn’t say, but he knew that she heard it nonetheless.

“Fool.” She said, wiping any stray tears from her eyes. “Foolish fool.”

Maya must have been rubbing off on him because he instinctively expected a hug ambush to be the next thing to happen. He should have known better though, because instead his sister turned on her heel, gritted her teeth, and picked up her whip as she made for the door.

As she pulled them open, Maya came tumbling forwards and onto the floor with a yelp. Phoenix stood rather guiltily only a few steps behind her. Gumshoe was nowhere in sight.

Franziska looked at them, of course knowing what they had been doing, and glared.

“Make sure he doesn’t do anything foolish.”

And the clicks of her heels faded as she walked away.

[kinghoranshit]

The Watchers (1D) - 48 Hours

Part 3

I was up before the sun had risen and sat at the post with a bowl of oatmeal and sliced bananas. It was oddly quiet again, sort of peaceful this time. Modest! really set us up right for this. Though, under the circumstances, that should be expected of them as the guys' management; especially with their money and power.

Around nine, Niall came downstairs to eat and he went back to practicing. At this point, I knew it was his way of a distraction and at least having some control of the current situation. I wasn't going to take that away from him. I just knew we were probably going to run out of the blanks soon. There was no telling what he'd do when that happened.

Around ten, Louis perched himself next to me with his own late breakfast. It was great someone wanted to keep me company. But again, part of me figured this was his way to not freak out. We sort of both needed each other right now.

And around noon, the other three finally ventured downstairs. I wasn't surprised that they slept in this time. They all ate lunch now. They were definitely the most quiet.

Louis leaned forward so his elbows rested on his knees and peeked out the slot. "Seen anything out there?"

I shrugged. "Nope."

"Then why don't we go do something else for a bit? I think I saw a couple games in one of the closets."

"Yeah, it's the one in the basement," I remarked with a smirk.

He looked unphased by my knowledge of everything in the house. "Let's go play one."

I let out a deep breath and slapped my hands on my thighs. "Sounds like a plan. Just for an hour or so."

I gasped when I saw the game LIFE in the archives. Immediately, I clicked on it to pull it up.

"What's LIFE?"

"Only the best game ever. You literally create a fake life. My mom and I used to play it when I was younger, and she played it when she was a kid."

Louis chuckled. "Sounds ancient, Kat. It can't be fun."

"Says you," I scoffed. "Come on, let's just play one run, okay?"

He looked hesitant before he broke with a heavy sigh. "Alright."

We each chose our color of car and person peg; my mom told me it used to be gender, but they changed it before I started playing. After this, we spun to see who went first and then chose the path of college or business. Louis spun a higher number so he went first. He went straight for the business route.

I snorted. "You're not going to go to college?"

"Fuck no. If I did that instead of trying music, I wouldn't be here. I've never been one great at education anyway."

"Touche. I didn't exactly have to get a degree for my work."

He looked at me curiously; his blue hues sparkled under the white lights. "You call this your job? You don't do anything else between the purges?"

I shook my head. "Nope. It pays well enough. That is if I survive the night."

"Touche," he chuckled.

I chose the college route instead because I knew that there were more job options, and it always made things more interesting in my opinion. Eventually I landed on the journalist occupation, which was one of the lower paying salaries, but that's okay. It seemed realistic to me. I think that if I hadn't been thrown into this lifetime, I'd probably be a writer of some sort. Or an instructor to teach self defense; that also felt right.

Our game flew by pretty quickly with stabs at each other, laughs, and curses. He'd ended up with four kids and I had only one. That spiraled the questions of would we want to get married one day and did we want kids. He answered yes to both and for the longest time he wasn't sure when he was going to be ready, but recently he felt that if he survived this purge he'd get married the following year. I said yes, but I wasn't sure about kids because of my lifestyle. I guess I could leave at any point; that definitely didn't feel right.

Louis's knee lightly touched mine as he tossed the controller onto the floor. "Well, I hate to admit it. That was a fun game, killed a bunch of time too."

I glanced down at our knees and soon thighs as he scooted closer. I cleared my throat with a small laugh. "I told you. Maybe we should go see what the others are up to. Make sure no one has died yet."

"Are you sure about that? There's no yelling. We could..." His eyes trailed down to my lips and he began to lean in.

I backed up and shook my head. "Louis, I... We can't... Not right now, okay? It's not the right time. If we both survive, maybe we could try it."

"Right, right," he coughed into his hand and stood from the couch. "I apologize if I came on too strong, Kat."

I nodded. "Apology accepted. It's nothing to worry about. Come on, let's head upstairs." I picked up my crossbow from where I'd leaned it against the couch and strapped it on my back.

The group was actually dispersed in the living room, everyone doing their own thing. Harry was journaling, Liam read some magazine, Zayn hummed a melody to himself, and Niall was practicing unloading and loading the cartridge of the pistol. Maddy was reading some sort of horror novel by the looks of the cover.

Niall looked up with a cheeky grin spreading on his lips. "Have fun downstairs?"

"Yeah, heard enough laughing to last me a lifetime," Harry added.

I rolled my eyes. "We were only playing the game LIFE and it was a lot of fun."

"It was." Louis winked.

That only added heat into my cheeks. "I'm going to set myself up at the post again until sundown. Any ideas for food?"

Zayn slightly raised his hand. "I make a mean dish. I've got it covered."

"Awesome." I clapped my hands before I headed over to my seat. I've realized I could use the security cameras. It was a small room though and knew I'd go stir crazy way too early into my post time. There was no shock when Louis sat down the empty chair across from me. After what felt like hours, I felt his hand entangle with mine.

"Louis-"

"I know, but holding hands won't kill us."

No, but the emotional attachment to it could. This is not what I signed up for. I know it's not what any of them signed up for.

I only gave him a small smile and looked back out the slot. My heart jumped a little at the sight of a moving figure.

"Fucker," I mumbled.

"What is it?"

I pulled my hand out of his and went to the vault that was down here to grab a sniper. I loaded it up with a single magazine round and set myself up so I could shoot them down without being noticeable. Luckily the sun was just going down so there was enough light for me to gauge before I took my shot. They were just trying to run from one tree to a bush that was closer to the bunker and I pulled the trigger. Their body went limp with a trip-like fumble to the ground. I made another aim and shot them another time to be sure.

It was then another figure came out from behind the tree and cursed again. There was no telling how many there were in this group. I took the best aim I could with them running and knew it was only a shoulder wound. Quickly I took two more shots and thankful one went into their head. I took a deep breath as I kept my finger on the trigger, looking through the lens for another figure. After at least ten minutes of posting in that uncomfortable position, I stood up and closed the slot.

"We had two friends stop by. If they found us, there's probably going to be more. As long as our security system is up, they shouldn't be able to get in the bunker."

"Please don't say stuff like that. It may happen now." He swallowed.

I licked my lips and sighed. "It's the reality, Louis. I can't lie to you guys. I'm gonna go let the rest know and then we'll eat."

It was pin-needle-dropping quiet while they received the update on the current situation. We were probably going to be fine for another few hours. I didn't suspect that any of these hunters would be smart enough to hack into the bunker system. But I also knew I'd have to be prepared for that to happen.

Dinner that night was the quietest one yet; couldn't blame them. There was nothing to say to cheer up the mood. They all tried to go back to what they were previously doing, staying at the kitchen table. I noted my senses heightened when the power went out. It took a couple seconds for my eyes to adjust, and it was now I realized how bad our situation just got.

Fuck.

Next part: 72 Hours 

[Masterlist]

[radiosteve]

Need Your Loving Tonight Ch. 18

Summary: Following your decision on John’s proposal, you decide that it’s time for a heart to heart with Roger.

Note: Hope everyone enjoys this one. The next chapter is going to be a big one so get ready. As always, the italicized part is the reader’s thoughts. The photo is one that I found on google. I do not own any rights to it. If you want to be added to the taglist send me a message or an ask and I’ll add you!  

Warnings: Language, Angst

Pairing: Roger Taylor x Reader, John Deacon x Reader

Words: 3.4k+

  November 11, 1974

 You rose with the sun that morning, relishing in its cold glare through the icy windowpane as you lay in your bed for just a few minutes more. The empty space next to you seemed odd, but you knew it was for the best. Untwining yourself from the tangle of sheets around you, your feet hit the cool wood floors, wading across them to get ready for the day ahead. It was going to be a long day, full of questions from coworkers and friends all about your seemingly eventful and long weekend. 

 Sally dropped you off on her way to work this morning, telling you it was too cold to walk. But you knew that it was more so a desperate attempt to get you really talking. She knew that your head was comparable to a warzone at the moment and just wanted to help lift the heavy weight from your chest. But still you persisted, stubborn and silent in the front seat of Sally’s car as the wheels ground into the pavement. Sally pulled into the lot beside the bank and shifted into park before turning to look at you. You had already begun to grab your things and open the car door when her hand reached out to stop you. 

 “Y/n,” Sally’s voice was quiet, as if she was scared to speak to you. “You know that you can tell me everything, right?” her eyes desperately roamed over yours, trying to sense any semblance of emotion within them. To see if you truly were alive under there. 

 “I know,” you faked smiled as you spoke and stepped out of the car before quickly closing the door and rushing towards the bank. You heard Sally roll down her window and call out to you, telling you that she’d pick you up when you got off later before you managed to take out your keys and unlock the front bank door. You were working the opening shift this morning along with Carol and one other girl. You moved quickly across the lobby and stepped into the back room where you noticed Carol fixing her hair in her tiny compact mirror. She stopped dead in her tracks as soon as she saw you enter, closed her compact and rushed towards you. Carol enveloped you in her arms, hugging you close to her body as you dropped your purse to hug her back. Oh god, not again.

 “Oh my god!” she shouted, her face a mixture of shock and thoughtfulness. “I honestly can’t believe it,” she shook her head as she spoke.

 “Me neither, this all seems so surreal,” your words echoed all the many other times you’d been put into similar conversations throughout the weekend. 

“Well,” Carol started, pushing back from her hug to grab for your hands. “Let me see it!” she spoke excitedly, and a wide toothy grin appeared on your face. You lifted up your left hand, showing off the sparkling diamond ring that John had placed there after you cheerily accepted his proposal. “Oh, it’s so beautiful! I’m so excited for you,” Carol squealed as she examined the ring. It was small but it was still gorgeous, and you knew it was the best John could afford at the moment, given his musician’s salary. Carol dropped your hand slowly and moved back over towards her stuff, giving you a chance to take off your jacket. “Was that the husband to be that dropped you off earlier?” Carol resumed fixing her hair in the compact as she asked.

 “No, that was my friend Sally. John didn’t spend the night yesterday. He’s been stuck with the boys since Saturday doing promotions for the new album. He slept at his apartment last night,” you picked up your purse from the ground and placed it on the table before you, beginning to unload it. 

 “Oh, that’s right. I almost forgot about their new album with all the marriage talk right now. I picked up a copy of it after work on Friday,” Carol spoke, and you nodded. “They’re pretty good. I might have to go with you to see them when they go on tour,” she smiled and you reciprocated it before heading out of the room, preparing for the busy workday ahead.

 ----------------------------

 Sally picked you up from work just as she said she would, and you greeted her with a tight-lipped smile.

 “In the mood to talk yet?” she asked as she quirked an eyebrow. “Or will this drive be just as quiet as the one this morning?” Sally looked over at you before darting her eyes back towards the road. 

 “I just wasn’t sure what to say,” you spoke softly, eyes locked on the road ahead. The soft glow of red from the stop light above highlighting your skin the words fled your lips. “I mean, I’ve definitely thought about my decision more in depth and I still think that I made the right choice,” Sally was looking at you as a soft drizzle began to beat down on the windshield of her car. The light turned green and the car slowly lurched forward down the street.

 “I just want to make sure that you’re happy, love. That you’ve made the best choice and explored all possible outcomes before committing yourself to anything as serious as marriage,” Sally’s eyes were fixed on the road, but you slowly turned your gaze towards her.

 “All possible outcomes?” you questioned, feeling a familiar guilt grow deep in your stomach as you repeated Sally’s words. The car stopped at another light and Sally stared deeply into your eyes. The drizzle outside slowly came down harder until it became full on rain.

 “Roger,” she spoke simply, gaze still locked on you. “What is going on between you and him, whatever you feel for each other, you need to figure it the fuck out before you get married,” Sally spoke straightly to you and if it was someone else, you may have taken offense. But this was Sally, she knew you better than anyone else (besides Brian). And you knew that she was right, no matter how much you didn’t want her to be.

 You were going to have to talk to Roger, to sort out everything between the two of you within the next few days. You would have to do the one thing you’d been avoiding throughout the entire weekend. You had to confront Roger. And for the moment, you felt just the rain falling outside, heavy and dangerous.  

 November 13, 1974

 The room had grown dark around you, the only source of light came from the flickering television across the room. The sun had still been out when you sat down on the couch, waiting for him to arrive, but the hours passed, and the light dwindled. The old black and white movie flashing over the small screen told some tale of romance, one that you didn’t care to follow. Instead of paying attention to the television, your focus was more so on the nervousness that you felt building up within you. Your thumb rose to your lips and you proceeded in your habit of biting at the cuticles resting around the nail. If Sally was here, she’d probably slap your hand away, trying to salvage any remnant of nail polish left behind, but she wasn’t here. No one was. Except you. 

 A knock radiated throughout the room and you almost felt like you were imagining it. You’d waited so long, thought so hard about what to say, only to freeze up when the moment finally arrived. Your knees cracked as you stood up from the couch, feeling the tension relieved after sitting still for so long. With small steps, you approached the door, taking deep breaths as you did so. You swung the door inwards, coming face to face with the man that had been clogging your head. Roger Taylor. He offered you a small smile and you returned it. You flicked on the lights, illuminating your apartment’s living room and drowning out the light from the television as Roger entered. 

 Roger sat down in his usual chair, trying his best not to seem awkward but failing miserably. You sat back in your previous spot which no doubt had a small indentation from you sitting there for so long. The air between the two of you was thin and silent, creating a tension so thick that you felt like you could barely see. Like a fog had eclipsed the room in a curtain so specific to this one area. The sound from the movie playing on the television proved to be the only noise between the two of you until Roger finally spoke up.

 “I’ve seen this before,” he said dryly, but still effectively breaking the ice. “This is the one where the girl falls in love with two guys. They both try to win her heart the best they can,” his words were quiet, as if he felt like he shouldn’t be here, like he was going to disturb someone by talking louder. 

 “Who does she choose? I mean, who does she end up with?” you asked, trying to flow with any conversational topic.

 “I don’t really remember actually. I think she ends up with the quiet, brooding one, but I can’t remember how,” he looked towards his hands folded in his lap, avoiding your eye line the best he could. The two of you sat in silence for a few more minutes after that, both acting like you were invested in the movie. “Why did you ask me to come here?” Roger’s voice broke through the air, pulling your half-glazed stare from the film playing before you. 

 “I- uh, I wanted to talk to you. I needed to talk to you,” you began and looked over at Roger only to find him staring back at you. He nodded slightly, pushing you to continue on as he listened. “A lot has happened in the past week, with me, with you, with everybody it seems. And I feel like I need to clear some things up, to get them off my chest before anything else changes too,” Roger’s eyes were still fixed on you and you felt your heart pounding beneath your ribcage, begging to be let out. 

 “That’s probably a good idea. I don’t think we’ve talked much in a while. You always seem to be busy whenever I try,” he flashed you a sad smile and trained his gaze back towards the floor. A sigh escaped your lips as you gazed over towards him. Roger’s hair laid perfectly around his face, framing it to best highlight his cheekbones. His hair was lighter now, as if he’d been out in the sun all day, but you knew it wasn’t from that. Roger’s large blue eyes still faced the wooden floorboards despite the desperate pleading gaze that offered. His eyelashes floated up and down as he blinked every few seconds, touching his cheek with every downward movement. You just wanted him to look at you. To see you the way you saw him. To clear your chest of any unspoken feelings and move on. You just wanted to rid yourself of this terrible feeling that lines the walls of your stomach each time you think of him. And little did you know, he wanted all of those things too.  

 “Roger,” you spoke softly, trying to attain his attention. He hummed a response but still avoided peering up from the ground. His nerves and fear of rejection took over despite his want for it not to. “Please look at me,” your words funneled through his ears, slowly lifting him upright in his seat. The blue of his eyes floated over your figure, slowly leading up to your face until he stopped. The two of you now sitting eye to eye.

 “Yes, love?” he nearly whispered it, and you felt a chill run down your spine. The feeling that you were doing something wrong, something that you shouldn’t, overtook you. 

 “There are things I need to say, things I need to do before I can move on and ‘grow up’, you know? And it’s terrifying. The way people feel, the way I feel, all of it seems to progress and grow so quickly that sometimes you just lose track of it along the way,” you spoke rapidly, all the words coming out in one jumbled mess. “I never thought that this would be where my life took me. London, I mean. I always kind of pictured myself moving to New York after I graduated. Living in a small apartment downtown, going out every weekend, watching tourists go through Times Square. I saw it all so clearly before. But then I moved here, and I know that all of that was wrong. That I belonged here in London, not New York. Do you get what I’m saying?” You continued rambling on while Roger’s eyes stayed trained on you.

 “No, not really. Why did you need to tell this to me?” Roger’s eyebrows were furrowed in confusion and his head shook from side to side, but his attention was still matted onto you. The television playing in the background was long forgotten as his ears focused solely on you. 

 “What I mean is that things change. People, feelings, they all change over time. And I’m talking about you. My feelings have changed for you,” the word vomit flooded from your mouth leaving Roger with wide eyes and parted lips. 

 “Your feelings for me have changed how?” he asked, trying to readjust his expression as he did so. Trying to eliminate any look that resembled hope on the off chance that your words would be negative. 

 “Well, you’re very much aware that I used to like you, hence us sleeping together in the past,” Roger nodded, feeling a tug at his heart as he remembered that night so vividly in his mind. “And after that I became a little resentful of you because of how badly you ended up hurting my feelings,” you still looked at Roger despite the nervousness that now filled your bones.

 “I know and I’m so sorry. I was a total ass and I never should have used you like that,” he was telling the truth, you knew that from the look on his face. 

 “I know, Rog,” you gave him a small smile which he returned. “But then things started to get better, we became closer as friends and hung out more. The band even started to take off, which was great. Then John came into the picture and you started getting a little distant. I mean we didn’t talk for a while and there was that fight we had at the one Christmas party, and that really sucked,” a small tear prickled its way along your lash line, threaten to fall. “But, you know, sometimes feelings linger. Sometimes they come back even when you don’t want them to. And I’m happy with John. I love him, I’m in love with him. But sometimes I get this feeling that it’s not supposed to be me and him. Instead, when I’m feeling like that, I think that it’s you. That it’s supposed to be me and you in the end, not John,” the tears spilled over your cheeks, smearing what little makeup you had on and dropping down into your lap. Your faded red pants now stained with wet droplets of tears as your chest heaved and your clouded eyes tried to stay focused on Roger.

 “I-I don’t know what to say,” Roger was rendered speechless. No snarky remarks, no snappy comebacks, or retaliations of any kind. It was like he suddenly forgot how to speak.

 “Please, Rog. Just say something. Tell me how you feel,” your pleading eyes bore into him, searching for anything to grab onto. An expression, a look, anything. 

 “How lo- how long have you felt this way? Felt like we would end up together,” his voice was quiet and unreadable. Your chest shook slightly as you took in another ragged breath.

 “Probably since we started getting close again after sleeping together. You weren’t hanging around with as many girls and you really seemed to care about me. It made me feel like I could trust you again,” your heart was pounding as each syllable left the tip of your tongue, plunging out into the open space between you and Roger.

 “You waited that long to tell me?” his eyes now matched yours, filling with tears as he spoke, trying to look through them to see you. You nodded a response, finding your throat too choked up from the crying to speak. “I could have had you,” his words were gentle, making the blood pumping through your veins quicken ever so slightly. “I could have had you all this time. Long before we met John. Way before you started dating, and ages before the two of you fell in love. You could have been mine, Y/n,” the tears pouring down his face fell into his hair which now looked messier than before.

 “I still can be, Rog. That’s why you’re here, that’s why I’m telling you this. Because feelings change, but mine never did. Not really. I still love you. I’m pretty sure that I always have,” the words fell from your lips rapidly, desperately attempting to make Roger understand.

 “No, no, no. You’re in love with John. You’re dating John. You’re engaged to John. There is no point in your narrative where I come in,” Roger shifted in his seat clearly uncomfortable now.

 “But there could be! Don’t you understand? Yes, I’m in love with John but I’m also in love with you! I could end my engagement if need be. I just want a chance. A chance with you. To see where we could end up. To know of all feasible possibilities!” you stood from the couch, now towering over Roger as you spoke, your tears spilling onto the floor.

 “But that’s not how it works! You don’t just get to try me on for size because you’re afraid that your relationship won’t work out. I’m not some toy for you to play with! If you felt this way all along then you would have acted on it long before John came along. And as for exploring possibilities, you can’t always get what you want,” Roger stood up from his chair, moving towards the door, far away from you. “I don’t know what your agenda is, what your plan is, but if it involves hurting the people you supposedly love, then I suggest you shut that shit down,” Roger turned the handle on the front door and looked back at you. 

 Mascara was streaked down your cheeks and your eyes were red and puffy. Roger’s gaze floated over you for a moment more before he turned around and slammed the door behind him. You flopped back on the couch in a fit of sobs. Snot filled your nose as tears fell down onto the couch. You curled into a ball so tight that you could barely breathe as your chest heaved with your heavy cries.

 Sally came home an hour later to find you asleep on the couch. A sigh left her lips, knowing that this was a bad sign. She grabbed your pillow from your room and gently lifted your head onto it, trying her best not to wake you up. Sally took the blanket from the chair Roger had sat in and draped it over your shivering body. She got some wipes from the bathroom and removed the mascara stains from your cheeks in an effort to make you look as though you hadn’t been crying all night. After all of that, Sally went into her bedroom and threw down her belongings before moving over to the phone in the corner of her room. She picked it up, dialing a number that she regretted knowing by heart. It rang a few times before the gruff voice answered.

 “What the hell happened between the two of you? She fell asleep crying on the sofa,” Sally spoke into the phone, her tone desperate for answers.

 “I don’t want to be a second choice,” Roger answered simply. Sally opened her mouth to reply but the line went dead before she could. She was left alone with a disconnected telephone in one hand and more questions than answers swirling around in her head. And she knew that this was going to be bad.

 Taglist: @retromusicsalad @bohemiansweede​ @deaconsroger @queen-crue​ @ohtheseboysilove​ @queeniesteiins @kemeryyyy @onceuponadetectivedemigod​ @ixchel-9275​ @rogmeddows​ @ziggymay​ @deakysmisfire​ @rogertaylorsfalsettogivesmehives​ @briarrose26​ @greatdinosaursalad​ @queendeakyy​ @killer-qu33n-of-disaster​ @mi55chanandlerbong​ @rogertaylorseyelashes​

[anotheronechicagobog]

Matt Casey x Reader I’m Sorry Part 1

Written by @anotheronechicagobog

A/N: Okay, so this ended up being waaaaaaay more than a oneshot. Sorry. I’m going on vacation with my family for a few days, I’ll be posting again as early as Friday, starting with the Jay Halstead series I started and then the request I’ve gotten from people. And to all the people who started following me, thanks! I was really nervous about writing fanfiction initially, you guys make me feel a lot less ridiculous. I really hope that you enjoy this!

Warnings: Swearing, child neglect, cancer, death, running away, daddy issues, fights

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It was your first day at Gaffney medical centre as part of the diagnostic medical team. And you honestly didn’t know if you should be excited or not. Considering my last name might not be welcome here. It’s no secret that your father, Hank Voight, was and still is, a dirty cop. He’s made friends but he’s also made enemies. “Dr. Voight?”

“Yes?” There was a tall blonde man in a Chicago Fire Department uniform. He let out a dark chuckle. “So the rumour’s true. They actually hired you.” You felt your stomach turn to lead. This. This was one of the many reasons you ran as fucking far and fast from Chicago the second you could. You straightened your shoulders, and use your sergeant's voice. “Yes, they did. They looked at my degrees, certification, research, contributions to various charities and medical journals, along with the fact that I’m the best doctor in my field in the western hemisphere, and decided to hire me.” Whoever this guy was, clearly did not hold a high opinion of either your father, brother, or both, and you couldn’t blame him. But the Fire Department and the hospital worked closely together, so you needed to make sure you’re here because you worked your ass off. He looked taken aback by your response, his blue eyes an open book, widening in shock. “So, which one messed with you? My father or my brother?”

“Uh- both.” He nodded, still shocked. Now it was your turn to be shocked. “What? My father and brother did something together?! Have I stepped into an alternate universe or something?”

“I’m Matt Casey,” he was looking at me in bewilderment and curiosity, “would you like to get a drink with me, by any chance? I think we have a lot to talk about.”

Later, after both your shifts were over, you met up at Molly’s. “So, uh, what exactly did my father and brother do to you?” In all honesty, you were well aware that what this man was about to say would be horrifying. You knew your father and brother, knew what they were like, at home, and at work. 

When you were fourteen years old, your mother said she hadn’t been feeling well, and it got serious enough to go to the doctor. Two days later, she and your dad sat you, Erin and Justin down and told you that she had been diagnosed with cancer, and her doctor said it didn’t look good. You- your mom’s little bookworm- did some probing and found out it was ovarian cancer. After that, you spent every spare moment either with your mom or researching ovarian cancer. The six months in between her diagnosis and death were difficult, to say the least. With medical bills piling up and no way to pay all of them on a detective’s salary, your dad did something that horrified you. He turned, started taking bribes, getting involved with gangs, and other organized crime groups. Even after your brother got involved, and you learned all the spots in the house where you hid both of their illegal items (guns, money, papers, and drugs), you and Erin, who was still recovering from her addictions and troublesome childhood, let it slide because they were paying your mom’s hospital bills and you both loved her so much. It was during a family trip to Disney World, at your mother’s request, that you began to suspect your mom wasn’t getting better and that if she died, they wouldn’t stop their... ‘activities’.

Erin was someone you had come to love and cherish. Your dad used to bring home troubled kids he met while working all the time. Usually, it would only be temporary. They were waiting for a loving relative to get custody, to live somewhere drug-free for a while. They were usually carbon copies of Justin. This was your dad’s not-so-subtle way of telling him he needed to “shape up”. Justin was always causing trouble, thus always being on the front burner, while you were always on the back burner. Your mom did everything she could to make time for you, while your dad didn’t, you gardened, cooked, sang, played music, painted and embroidered together. As you grew older, Justin caused more and more trouble, your dad spending less and less time with you. To the point where he barely knew anything about you, was completely unaware of what was going on in your life and forgot when your birthday was. Twice. This was all hard enough to deal with, believing that you weren’t enough, that there was something wrong with you, and feeling as though he’d abandoned you even though you saw him every day. All of that intensified when he brought Erin home. When they walked through the front door, and your dad stated who she was and that she was going to be staying for the foreseeable future, all of the air was brutally ripped from your lungs. A numbness settled over you when your dad told you that she needed to feel comfortable, so she was going to sleep in your room, on your bed, while you would be in a sleeping bag on the floor of Justin’s room. You nodded, trying to hold back tears, trying to be a good daughter and person, but you felt your heart breaking. It only got worse from there.

Two months later, your mom died. The day she died was traumatic for you, for expected and unexpected reasons. You didn’t like to think about either. Things at home got worse, as you expected, your dad and Justin didn’t stop. Erin was still sleeping in what was formerly your room, and your dad was all for helping Justin and Erin grieve, but not you. No, you were spoken to only when necessary, and when he did speak to you, he was on the verge of tears. You looked a lot like your mom so it was expected in a way. He didn’t pay much attention to you before she died, why would he start after? Four months after your mom’s death, it was your birthday. There was no cake, presents, party or “happy birthday” from anyone. Three days after that, it was Erin’s birthday. Your dad took the day off, said he wasn’t feeling well when really, he was busy setting up a birthday party for Erin. When you got home after your self-defence class, your dad, Justin, Erin and a multitude of family friends were there. There was a store-bought cake on the dining room table, a pile of presents near the empty fireplace, and birthday hats on everyone. Your stomach twisted into itself as a feeling of utter dread consumed you. No. This can’t be happening. I was fine not celebrating my birthday this year because mom’s gone, but... It wasn’t even an option to celebrate it... Why are they all doing this for Erin and not me? When your dad noticed you his smiled dropped. “Oh, hey kid... Thought you were going to be gone longer... Erin’s going to open her presents in a minute. Did you get her one?” Your dread turned to unbridled fury. You wanted to throw the cake on the wall, take a knife and stab her presents, scream at your dad, yell every swear word you weren’t supposed to know, in every language he didn’t know you knew, because they spend all their time breaking the law are cuddling up to Erin “Okay, everyone, time for the birthday girl to open her presents!” Justin yelled, pushing a laughing Erin in front of him. Your dad turned away from you and cheered along with the fifty other people who came to celebrate Erin’s birthday but not yours. Screw this. Screw them. You made your way upstairs, unseen by everyone except for Erin. Walked into Justin’s and then “Erin’s” room to pack your stuff into your mom’s old suitcase. Clothes, toiletries, a book your mom gave you, and a photo album. You found the small shoebox in the back of your closet, which you had been putting all of the money you’d earned over the years into. Dog walking, pet sitting, selling items you made at festivals, and playing the viola all around the city. I’m outta here. After boldly walking out of the place you used to call home with only Erin’s eyes on you, you were walking to the bus station when you came across two men in their twenties wearing Georgetown University hoodies loading up a car. “Hey, are you two going to D.C.?”

“Yeah... Why?”

“Can you take me with you?” They looked at each other. “Um... Are you ok?”

“I can give you two hundred bucks. Can you take me or not?” They shared another look. “Alright... I guess. I’m Will and this is Marcus. Is that all your stuff?” You rode with them the eleven hours it took to drive to D.C. and when you got there, they seemed worried, wondering if they had done something stupid. “Here’s your money, you can drop me off here, thanks for the ride.”

“Do you have someone you’re visiting? I’d much rather drop you off with them. I mean you’re just a kid, you can’t be wandering around in a different city after people who don’t know you drove you there. Man, this was a bad idea. Should not have done this.”

“My grandparents live here, they’re who I’m here to see. I’ll give you their address.” You try to smile in a reassuring way because Will looks like he’s going to puke, and Marcus looks paranoid, jumping every time something even resembling a cop car goes by. They calm down a bit on the drive to your grandparents’ house. “I’m going to walk you to the door and meet your grandparents,” Will stated, leaving no room for argument. When you knocked, your Abuelo answered the door. “Y/N? What are you doing here and who is this man?”

“My name’s Will Halstead, your granddaughter asked to be dropped off here, I just walked her to the door to make sure everything was ok.” Your Abuelo did NOT look happy. “Hank never said anything about you coming.”

“We need to talk about this inside Abuelo.” He nodded, stepped aside and motioned for you to enter. “Uh, here’s my contact information, in case you need to call me or something,” Will said, trying to hand a piece of paper to you, but your Abuelo took it from his hands before you could. “Thank you, Will.”

“No problem kid.”

Once inside your Abuelo and Babushka (grandmother in Russian) sat you down in the living room and waited for an explanation. You told them the whole truth, nothing about the illegal stuff, just that you were feeling neglected, unsupported, and betrayed the whole birthday thing. You also didn’t mention that it’d been going on for years. “Can I please stay with you?”

“Of course you can Kotik, just let me call Hank to tell him that you’re-”

“No, I’ll call Hank. I understand that he misses Camille, I do too, she was my only daughter after all, but it is not ok for him to be treating you this way, mi cielto. I need to have some words with him.”

The next two years were wonderful. You don’t know what was said on that phone call, but you didn’t have to see, speak to, or go back to your father. You got to live with your grandparents, see your uncles, aunts, and cousins regularly, and be praised for being talented and intelligent. It was a breath of fresh air, but your life’s experiences had taught you that something bad was going to happen. You can’t be happy for long periods of time. The rug was going to be pulled one way or another, and you were trying to brace yourself for it. Then it happened, two white-supremacists burst into your Abuelo and Babushka’s store and killed almost everyone. Your grandparents were included in the death toll. You were there when it happened and couldn’t help but feel like you were the reason they died. You couldn’t even help them, keep them alive until the paramedics came. Their memorial was the first time you saw your father, brother, and Erin in over two years. Your father and brother were avoiding their angry relatives, all wondering what happened that made you go and live with your grandparents. Erin approached you with a bottle of water, she handed it to you and sat down next to you, not saying anything. When it was all over, your father walked up to you. “Y/N? It’s time to go. You’re coming back with us.” He wasn’t even looking you in the eye as he said it. “Hank, are you sure we can’t stay a couple more days?”

He sighed “Erin I don’t think-” He was cut off by Erin’s glare. “Alright, two more days. After he walked away, Erin spoke up. “I saw what was happening, but I wasn’t sure what to do. I saw you leave, too. I didn’t know what to do then, either. But I know what to do now. If anyone- including Hank and Justin- aren’t treating you right, let me know, I’ll set them straight. We girls need to stick together, plus, I’ve always wanted a sister and I didn’t do a good job when we first met, so now it’s time to correct that... If you’re ok with that.”

For the first time since the shooting, you smiled.

“Y/N? Y/N?”

“Huh, what?”

“Sorry, but are you alright? You kinds spaced out on me.”

“Oh sorry, I’m fine, just took a trip down memory lane.”

“Was it a pleasant trip?”

“Not particularly. So, what did they do to you...” You gestured for him to introduce himself since you still didn’t know his name. “I’m Matt Casey, when I was reporting to a car accident, I discovered that your brother was drunk and had paralyzed a kid from the waist down”

You gasped and your eyes went wide. You were expecting bad, but not something that bad. “I reported it, but your dad-”

“Father. He’s not my dad. Dad’s care about their only biological daughter.”

“Oh, ok. Well, your father didn’t appreciate my honesty. First, he tried to bribe me into falsifying my report, then he started threatening me and my now dead fiancee. He went as far as having someone break into our house, plant drugs, and getting a search warrant.”

“Dios Mio, that’s just terrible. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not your fault, and it has been a few years. I just, we went through all this work to get him arrested, but then he got out a couple of months later as a Sergeant, in charge of the intelligence unit. I know that it’s been years, but I’m still a little angry about the whole thing.”

“I’m angry at him, too, so you’re not alone in that.”

“Yeah, about that, you seem to have some father-daiughter related anger, anything I should know?”

“No, sorry. I get that you’re probably curious, but I just met you. And I don’t even tell Erin all of that stuff, and she’s basically my sister.”

“Alright, fair enough. Well, I’m sorry for giving you trouble earlier. Maybe I could-”

“Hey guys!” Will exclaimed, overly cheery. His smile was bright, but his eyes were dark and furious. “What are you talking about?”

“Hi, Will. This is-”

“Oh, we’ve met. Lieutenant Matt Casey. Impressive.”

“Thanks... I think...” Matt was starting to get twitchy.

“Will drove me to see my grandparents many years ago, I was pretty young, and he was worried, so we kept in touch. My family basically adopted him whenever he was at university, he’s basically my older brother.”

“Oh, that’s nice to know-”

“Really? Why? Is it cause I’m stopping you from deflowering my little sister?” You choked on your drink. “Deflowering?! First of all, who says that anymore? Second, we’ve been sitting here griping about my father, and third, you know I’m not a virgin, right?”

“What?!”

Matt chuckled and stood up. He handed you a piece of paper, “Here’s my number, let me know if you want to hang out. I’m just going to leave you guys to your... discussion.” You gave an embarrassed smile while Will was gaping like a fish and make strange incoherent noises.

“Hi, Matt? It’s Y/N, I was wondering if you’d like to get some dinner? It’s been a while since I lived in Chicago, a lot of my old favourite places are gone. Give me a call back when you can, since I’m guessing you’re working right now. Bye!”

“Hey, Y/N, it’s Matt. I guess I just missed you, I’ve got a couple of restaurants in mind if you’re free sometime tomorrow maybe? Uh, yeah, call me back when you can please. Bye.”

The ED was in chaos, there’d been a bus crash and over two dozen people had been injured. “Dr. Halstead, Dr. Voight, trauma room three!” Putting on a new set of gloves, you rushed with Will to a gurney that held a teenage girl, who quite honestly looked scared out of her mind. “Hello, miss, I’m Dr. Halstead, can you tell me your name?”

“Izvinite, ya ne govoryu po-angliyski. YA ne znayu, chto proiskhodit. Pozhaluysta, pomogite mne.”(I'm sorry, I don't speak English. I don't know what's happening. Please help me.)

“Uhhhh...-”

“Ne volnuysya, my pozabotimsya o tebe. YA doktor Voyt, vy mozhete skazat' mne, chto sluchilos' ili chto-to bolit?”(Don't worry, we'll take care of you. I'm Dr. Voight, can you tell me what happened or if anything hurts?)

“So, I gues you’ll be taking the lead on this one.” Will chickled. 

Hours later, with only thirty minutes left in your shift, you took the opportunity to sit down. You leaned your head back and took a breath, letting the events of the past twelve hours hit you with full force. “So you had a rough shift too, huh?” You tiredly opened your eyes and saw an exhausted Matt Casey standing before you. You’re too exhausted to speak so you just nod. “I, uh, I have to head back to the station, for the rest of my shift, but I was wondering if you’d like to get dinner with me at seven tomorrow?” 

“Yes. I would love that.”

The next day you were trying on various outfits while your sister, Erin, lay on your bed teasing you and occasionally giving her opinion about your outfit. “Erin, cut it out and help me!”

“Ok, ok. Go for the skirt and sweater. It’s elegant and casual enough for a first date but doesn’t look like typical first date attire. So, it’ll be different.”

“Finally, some help from you.” You jokingly sighed out causing her to chuck a pillow at your head. You’re both standing there laughing -you in your bra and underwear, her in jeans and a t-shirt- when the doorbell rang. “Shit! He’s early! Erin, why are you smiling like that, Erin no!” Erin bolted out of your bedroom to answer the door knowing that you wouldn’t follow her in your state of... dress. You opened your door a crack to see Erin greet him. “Lieutenant Casey, please come in. Y/N will be just a few minutes.”

“Alright.” You closed the door and could only hear their muffled voices. You knew what was happening, though. Erin was threatening Matt and drilling fear into the core of his soul. You knew that this would happen when you invited her over to help you get ready, but she did this the first time she met anyone you were dating. You’d learned that it was better to do this as soon as possible, save yourself the emotional trouble of missing someone who’d run away with their tail between their legs. You knew you were right when you entered the living room to see Erin looking stern and Matt a little green. “So, Matt, are you ready to go? You know, presuming my sister didn’t scare you off?”

“Uh, yeah, yeah I am... Wow, you look great.”

“Thanks, you too. So, are you ready to go on a date with Hank Voight’s daughter?”

“No. I’m ecstatic and nervous as hell to go on a date with Y/N Voight, a fiercely intelligent, kind, strong, badass woman who worked herself to the bone to create her distinguished career on her own.” When he finished he was breathless and so were you. People either knew nothing or too much of your father and constantly having his name attached to yours always stung, and you worried that now you were back in Chicago people would assume that everything you had worked so hard for was handed to you by your dirty cop father. The fact that he understood this and acknowledged it made your heart swell. “Awwwwwwww” Erin interrupted your moment with a teasing voice and smile. “Well, now that you’ve both announced that you’re ready to go on a date, you should probably go on that date.”

“Erin’s right, Y/N, let’s head out.”

And you did, to a wonderful first date that led to many more. Eight months later and you had come to the conclusion that dating Matt was equal parts fantastic and stressful. After your twelve hour shift, in which both Matt and Hermann came to the ED to get checked out after they were punched by the drunk who caused a car accident which caused sickening purple bruises, you just wanted to go to bed. But you couldn’t. Even though Matt was finished with his shift and had tomorrow off with you, something wasn’t sitting well with you. He seemed too calm, too resigned to the fact that he’d been punched in the face. You were suspicious for some reason, which was ridiculous because he’d never given you any reason to be. Your concerned sigh was cut off by Erin’s special ringtone coming out of your phone. 

“Don’t be mad at Matt!”

“What?”

“Don’t be mad at Matt, it’s not his fault! Voight riled him up first. So don’t be mad that he and Voight got into a fight over you, ok?”

“Hold up, hold up, WHAT?! My boyfriend and my father got into a FIGHT?! Where and when did this happen?!”

“At the scene today... You didn’t know? He had to go to Med, where you work because Voight managed to sock him in the jaw, and Hermann got involved...”

“Why did they fight?”

“Y/N I don’t think I should-”

“Why, Erin?”

“Voight found out that you two are dating and he made a comment to Casey about it at the scene. Something along the lines of Matt’s only dating you to get back at Voight for a few years ago. Y/N, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, Erin. I have to go, and don’t worry I’m not mad at Matt.” After hanging up you left Med, and instead of driving to your apartment building, you drove to your childhood home. Your blood continued to boil and fester throughout out the drive, when you were storming up the walkway, and when you banged on the door. You were about to see your father, who you felt neglected by, for the first time in over a decade. You were more than ready for this.

[gazingupatthemoon]

Roses Are Red, I Am Not Sharing This Bed (1/1)

Found here at ff.net or A03

Summary: There are only two things Rey likes about Valentine's Day: chocolate and her annual Valentine's Breakfast with her friends. And the only thing that going to threaten that this year is Ben Solo and his stupid desire to be the most boring person alive. Well, not if Rey has anything to say about it. (or, Ben makes Rey stay late at work and one thing leads to another and they get locked in together. Uh oh)

Rating: M

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Rey has a love hate relationship with Valentine’s Day.

For one, she hates it because, the obvious, a day dedicated to love? Come on now. Maybe it’s because she never had anyone to share with it. Maybe. But she can’t help but feel like she’d still hate it. Hearts, and cupids, and everything drenched in red? Nonsense.

But then, there is the two aspects she can’t help but love about it. One, the chocolate. So. Much. Chocolate. It’s like Halloween all over again. She could drown in chocolate and go with a smile on her face. Two, annual Valentine’s Day Breakfast. Sure, she goes out to eat with Finn, Poe, and Rose practically every week, but this one is special. It started out with just her and Finn, years ago, when they had been two single, financially struggling youths who needed a roommate to afford the cost of living in the city. They had gotten drunk the night before the big day, lamenting on not being in relationships and also how much their jobs sucked (jobs, by the way, they still had to go to the next day). Hungover and slightly less miserable the next morning, they desperately needed greasy food in their stomachs in order to go on with the rest of the day. Maz’s Diner has never been more of a godsend.

And so it went on from there.

Finn and Rey just kept doing it, finding the tradition endearing, funny, and, most importantly, an excuse to actually do something on Valentine’s Day. But then Poe got involved. Rey loves Poe, don’t get her wrong. He and Finn had bumped into each other (quite literally) jogging in the park one day. (FYI, Finn’s jogging history lasted approximately a week before he threw in the white flag. Poe is still going strong). The rest is history. Love at first sight and all that. 

So Finn actually found someone else to celebrate Valentine’s Day with. Rey had been bitter for a number of reasons (she still is sometimes when she seems them together and so in love) but she’s happy for her friend, really. But she figured annual breakfast was off the table. Finn, bless his soul, balked at the idea. “We’ll just bring Poe with us!” He had decided without any room for argument.

And then came Rose. After putting up with Plutt’s shit and barely livable salary for what seemed like an eternity, Rey quit his auto shop. Poe promptly swooped into the scene, thrusting a number into her hand for another shop across town that was apparently looking for a new hire.

“Family friends!” He winked with that charming smile of his. “Mention my name and you’re good.”

Poe usually thought too well of himself for Rey to believe getting a new job would be that easy, but she was desperate. She could afford to be unemployed maybe one whole month before things would start getting dire. Finn still lived with her but he was at Poe’s more often than not, and Rey was dreading the day he’d finally up and leave for good.

So she called, and was greeted by the voice of a chipper young woman. “Solo Mechanics! Rose here! How can I help you?”

Suffice to say, she got the job.

Han Solo was a bit old and grumpy, and seemed like he had no desire to hire anyone during her interview. But Rose berated every gruff comment that passed his lips, and pointed out everything wrong going on in the shop every time he insisted that everything was fine. Rey liked her immediately. Honestly, she liked Solo too. His demeanor seemed more a front to her than anything, and besides, she responded much better to sarcastic people in her life. Just easier conversation.

Rose and her became quick friends. Rose did a lot of the paperwork and phones for the shop, but she also worked on some projects herself. She was bright, quick with her hands, and had a profound knowledge of the more technological side of cars and machinery. So when Rose had sighed and sadly complained of being alone on Valentine’s Day, Rey didn’t think twice of inviting her to breakfast.  

So yea, annual Valentine’s Day breakfast maybe one of her most favorite holiday traditions. 

And no one can ruin it except, quite possibly, Ben Solo.

Rey glares pointedly down at her grease soaked hands instead of the offending man in question as he all but shouts his head off at his father.

“You’re spending too much. You’re always spending too much!”

Ben is a sight to see on a normal day. It’s quite another story when he is angry. His massive form quivers with barely restrained rage, his already dark eyes turn near black, and he emits this air of tension that a person can actually choke on. The moment he had stomped his way into the shop this morning, Rey knew it wasn’t going to be good.

Han, for his part, didn’t look too intimated. He actually rolled his eyes at his son’s tantrum. “Ben, you’re overreacting.”

"Have you seen the numbers?"

"The numbers are fine."

"Fine is not good. Fine is fine. We need to be good. Or dare I even hope to say great!"

Rey finally glanced up, if only to send Rose a meaningful look. The other girl has put a hand to her mouth to suppress a laugh in return.

This happens at least once a month.

Though Rose is aware of financial state of the shop, it's not technically her job. It's Ben's. Apparently, it had been an attempt for more father-son bonding, or something like that. Leia never really painted the whole picture to Rey, just sparse details. Ben, who was shit at mechanics (Han's words), had a history in the financial sector so it seemed like the best thing for him to do. But really, it just seems more like an excuse for them to fight than bond.

Han waved a hand in the air. "I've been living off fine my whole life."

"Yea, don't think I'm not aware how well that's been working out for the family."

Rey even flinched at Ben's callous comment. Just another story she is not intimately aware of; the Solo family dynamics. They're not perfect, but who really was? At least Rey also thought of that excuse when Ben made his not so subtle comments. Family was family. It was more than she had ever had. But there is definitely some unspoken and unexplained unrest between them all, Ben being at the center of it all. Rose had even told her once Ben had dropped out of the picture for five years before showing up again. Something about some nasty fall out and a job offer half way across the country.

So yes, Ben Solo was definitely an enigma to Rey.

A real shitty enigma highlighting as the world's biggest ass.

Who, Rey is about to find out, is going to ruin her annual Valentine's Day plans.

Ben seemed to calm down, somewhat, after his blunt comment. He breathed nosily out his nose, and got his trembling down to a simple quiver. "Look," He began through clenched teeth. "It's not just that. There are receipts missing. We have expenses that have no paperwork to back them up."

Han, for his part, seemed to deflate a little as well. "You know I've never been good with that stuff."

Ben rolled his eyes. "Dad. You can't just spend things and not document it. This is a business, albeit a shitty one."

"Watch it," Han gruffed. "Look, I'm sure they're around. We can look-"

"You're leaving in an hour for your trip," Ben reminded him, none too gently. "And Mom will leave you for the fifth time if you're late or make her miss the flight."

A Valentine's Day gift from Han to Leia, a trip to some sunny beach in Florida. Rey had helped him book it herself.

Han scratched at his head. "Shit, forgot about that. Well, when I get back-"

"I need it this week," Ben interrupted again. "Today, actually. The appointment with the tax guy is tomorrow."

"Well can't you reschedule it?"

"It's the only slot our free times coincided."

Rey was now the one to roll her eyes. Of course, Ben Solo would only be free for the foreseeable future on Valentine's Day to do taxes. The comment didn't surprise her at all.

"Well then what do you want me to, Ben?" Han snapped.

"Act like an adult for once in your life-"

"Listen, I'm your father-"

"I could count on one hand how many times you've actually acted like it-"

This was going nowhere good. Rey had seen enough of their blowups to know this. Even Rose was cringing in her seat. Han and Ben could get vicious with each other within seconds, and the collateral damage was always the worst.

"I'll do it!" Rey shouted before another vicious word is said. "I'll help look for the paperwork!"

Han's face immediately broke out in a smile, his relief palpable, but Ben's is a whole other story. Surprise, at first, but it quickly contorts into obvious annoyance. Too bad such a handsome looking face can be scrunched up so grossly.

(Not handsome Rey. Get it together)

Though Rey tries her best to avoid Ben since her time working here, it's surprisingly hard to do so. He keeps his trips to the shop minimum, and yet even then they always wind up bumping into each other. There was the time Rey got grease on his pristine white button down. When Ben had bumped his foot into her tool kit, sending everything scattering onto the floor. Rey not giving in receipts on projects she worked on in the time span Ben deems acceptable. Ben "accidentally" deleting Rey's info on the company website he maintains with Rose.

What makes it worse, though, is when they interact outside the shop.

Despite Han's initial reluctance towards Rey, he warmed up rather quickly. Which meant being invited to the house, meeting Leia, spending hours of time together outside work. It's a sense of family Rey hadn't felt since making her small one with Finn. This family, unfortunately, includes Ben Solo. Who isn't there for all the weekly dinners, but the time he is acts unbearable towards Rey.

There was the accidental dropping of a moat of gravy on Ben's lap. The ongoing saga of who sits on the loveseat (since they will not, by any means, sit next to each other or squeeze between Han or Leia on the couch). Ben conveniently not hearing Rey knock on the door or ring the bell whenever the others are outside and he's in the house. The never-ending war for Chewie's love (yea, Ben has history with the oversized dog, but Rey is definitely much sweeter on him).

Comments on her being a dirty mechanic.

Comments on him being a stuck up white collared jerk.

You get the picture.

So, Rey understands the horrid look Ben is sending her way. It's usually the way he looks at her. But for once, he could possibly be a little more appreciative. It's not like she had to volunteer her time to help fix whatever mistake Han created. She could have easily let the two kill each and walked out the door once the clock hit 5 o'clock.

A look of indifference would even be acceptable.

She doesn't feel even a smidgen of bad when she openly glared back.

Han ignored their heated starring contest. "Thanks, kid. That'd really help."

"Does she even know anything about paperwork?" Ben scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest. His very large chest, Rey has noticed more than once. She wished he'd stop wearing such tight shirts. Who the hell did he think he was?

"She," Rey seethed. "Has the ability to read, thank you very much."

Ben smirked nastily. "Well, I had actually been wondering about that, but that wasn't what I had been implying. Do you know where the old man keeps them? Deciphering his nonsensical lingo? How to cross reference them with the main account-" "If you do it, it can't be that hard." God, did he think she was an idiot? Fixing cars doesn't mean you failed out of high school.

Ben doesn't fall for her easy bait. "Rose would be better."

The dismissal and rejection, in one fell swoop, has red beating beneath Rey's cheeks. She wanted to scream at Ben Solo. Hit him over the head. Watch his obnoxiously large body collapse onto the ground.

Rose scurried quickly onto the scene at the mention of her name. "I can't!" She exclaimed, not before sending an apologetic look Rey's way. "My sister Paige is visiting tonight, I have to pick her up from the airport."

Rey had forgotten the other Tico sister was coming to town. Rose had just asked last week if it was okay if she could come to their Valentine's Day breakfast.

Rey hadn't really considered Rose when she had (stupidly) volunteered her help, but something in the back of her mind had hoped the other woman wouldn't let her suffer Ben Solo's company alone.

Now she was truly screwed.

"Looks like you're stuck with Rey," Han grinned, not really sounding sorry at all. "Though I'm sure she's going to regret it more than you. Rose, mind driving an old man home so he doesn't miss his flight and get thrown out by his wife?"

"Sure! But didn't you drive today-"

"I did, but I'll leave the Falcon for you, Rey. Who knows how long you'll be here tonight."

Rey didn't own a car, but did quite well with buses and trains. But Han was always trying to wheedle free rides her way, to which Rey was grateful but didn't need the pity offers. Even if it was the Falcon, the vintage car Rey immediately fell in love with on sight.

"Han, you don't have to-"

"Kid, it's yours. Not like I need it where I'm going. Leia has us getting some damn rental. Keep it till I get back."

It's possibly the most generous offer he's ever forced on her, and Rey's throat wells with unexplainable gratitude.

"Besides," he murmured closer towards her, "See it as a thank you for dealing with my son."

The way Ben's shoulders tense makes it obvious he heard his father's words. Rey convinced herself that she doesn't feel bad. She absolutely doesn't.

Rose and Han leave with a couple more goodbyes then it's just Rey and Ben.

Alone.

"Well, might as well get this over with," Rey announced when Ben didn't make another move.

He's doing his usual brooding, looking all ominous and agitated, and starring anywhere but at her. Her words barely even seem to have an effect, for he just keeps on standing there.

Rey is about to ask if he's having a stroke when Ben sprang to life and dashed off towards Rose's desk. "Ill check here." He threw over his shoulder.

Rey rolls her eyes at his hulkish back. He wanted to keep to opposite sides of the room? Fine by her. _________________________________________________________________

Almost two hours later, Rey has nothing to prove for her hard work save three crumpled up receipts, two unfinished(?) itemized lists, and an aging piece of paper that she cannot make heads or tails of save the dollar amount of $350.00 scrawled on the bottom.

Han's handwriting truly does need its own decoding system.

It doesn't seem like Ben has done much better. Anything they find they put on Rose's desk, so Rey can't help but notice he was adding barely as much as she was.

"This is ridiculous," Ben scoffed at the second hour mark. He's using his long arms to swipe under a cabinet, but is only succeeding at collecting dust balls.

Rey could have gotten a good laugh at how grimy his nice shirt was getting, but Ben, unfortunately, had the foresight to roll up his sleeves.

(Stupid good looking body)

"How does this place even function? We haven't found half of the paperwork we need."

Rey blew out a sigh and collapsed onto a chair. "Beats me. But we've searched this place from top to bottom."

"We obviously have to look harder-"

"It's almost 7 o'clock!"

"You're the one who volunteered to stay! Now you're backing out?"

"I didn't think we'd be here till midnight!"

Ben rose up from his squatted position on the floor and fixed her with a look. "First off, sweetheart, midnight is hours away-"

Sweetheart.

Rey has heard Han say it to Leia millions of times, so the first time it had past Ben's lip aimed at her, Rey had been thrown for a loop. She remembered the red on Ben's face, because it must have equally matched her own. She had accidentally used oregano instead of basil in some sauce Leia was cooking for dinner (which, really, was not even the worst mistake that could have happened) when Ben pointed out the misstep with the offending "Sweetheart" glued to the end. They starred at each other painfully after the utterance, until Ben hastily, and nastily, made some crack about her lack of cooking AND reading skills.

So, unlike his parents, Ben did definitely not mean sweetheart in endearing way when he said it to Rey.

Rey nearly snarled. "I know how to tell the time you jackass!"

"You can read and tell time, I'm learning so much about you today," Ben drawled. "Secondly, if we don't finish this tonight, then we're back here tomorrow morning, early."

That made Rey lose her anger fueled momentum. Tomorrow morning was breakfast. Her annual Valentine's Day breakfast. She was not, repeat, not going to give that up to be trapped here again with Ben Solo.

"Absolutely not!" She protested, hopping up from her seat. "I have plans."

Ben eyes drop down to the floor. "Of course, you do," He murmured so quietly, Rey wondered if he meant for her to hear him at all.

But Rey can't worry about whatever is going on Ben Solo's head. Breakfast was at stake here. The thought made her frantic. She began to dash around the shop, pushing things to the side and squinting into dark crevices. "Fine, let's stay late. Look harder, whatever it takes-"

But Ben wasn't moving. Now he looked at tired as she felt mere moments ago. "No, maybe you're right. It's getting late."

"What? No, you never admit I'm right. C'mon, Han must have stuck them somewhere!"

"Rey, there's a very good chance the old man tossed them and they're rotting in some dump right now. Actually, I'd bet money that's just what happened. Tomorrow morning we can do a final sweep, just in case, but-"

"No!" Rey's voice exploded. It echoed loudly in the shop, a tooth grinding sound that even made Rey cringe.

Ben's mouth closed slowly, whatever other excuse he was going to say dying within, and instead he just simply stared at her. Not glared. Or grimaced. Or even pinned with cold indifference. A simple, curious stare.

It made Rey squirm.

"Is your date that important tomorrow morning?" He asked softly after another agonizing moment.

"I…" Rey steels herself for how ridiculous things is going to sound. And maybe it is stupid. How could she explain it? A dumb get together with her friends on a holiday she has no right to celebrate to begin with? Ben Solo wouldn't get it. How could he? He grew up with family, and traditions, and never having to second guess if tomorrow was the day he'd end up alone again. Sure, she's not celebrating Valentine's Day in the traditional sense with no relationship to speak of, but it's a cherished date of how she and Finn grew close, then Poe, and then Rose.

It's a yearly reminder that she not alone, that she has people who love her.

And Ben Solo would not just understand.

Tears, foolish, foolish tears, burned behind Rey's eyes. She turned quickly away from Ben, giving him nothing but the sight of her back. "Yes," She grit out. "It is."

It's silent again, and Rey can't bear to turn around and see if Ben is looking at her in that open way again. Because then she'd really break. Then she'd really have to face how childishly-desperately-she is holding onto this small thing.

"Fine," Ben said, again so softly. "Let's keep looking." _________________________________________________________________

It's 9 o'clock pm by now.

And really, there's nothing to show for it.

Rey found one more wrinkled paper, but for whatever charges Han had written down, it totaled to a meager 20 dollars.

Ben had come up with nothing else.

Somehow, the whole sticking to separate sides of the room thing ended, for Rey and Ben now sit a few feet away from each other, both on the concrete floor and shifting through shoe boxes Han had stored away in his office.

"He's a slob," Ben growled, picking out a dirty burger wrapper and starring at it as if it was diseased.

"Makes you wonder who raised you, huh?" Rey snarked, throwing a loose penny into the pile of other misplaced change.

Here's hoping she could scurry away with that later.

Ben scoffed. "No one, that's who."

Rey looked at him pointedly. "Why do you do that?"

"Do what?"

"Say those things? Do you know how much it hurts them?"

Ben frowned down at his shoebox. "Why bother explaining myself to you? You've already decided how you feel about me."

"Because how you act!" Rey argued. How on Earth was he trying to make her feel guilty about this? He was an ass, therefore, she treated him as one. Was that not simple enough? "How you treat everyone around you, especially me!"

"How I treat-come on, Rey. Your mind was made up about me before we even met."

"What are you even talking about?"

_________________________________________________________________

"Ben Solo?" Rey echoed. She gently squeezed the mug of tea more tightly in her hands, enjoying the warmth seeping through her skin.

Heat has been a bitch at the apartment and the Solo's house is nice and warm.

"Leia and Han's son," Poe whispered. He shot a quick look out the window, confirming the couple in question are still outside collecting food from their garage refrigerator. "Kind of the black sheep of the family."

"Why?" Rey asked, her voice dropping as well. She's seen pictures of the so-called son, but has yet to meet the man in person. Apparently, he is coming over today and Rey is more than a bit curious.

She's only a human. She's noticed the young Solo is good looking.

"Up and left to work for some asshole out in California who was running for office. And by asshole I mean like corrupt-movie-villain asshole. Ben and his parents never got along, he was the troubled kid, you know? I was probably the closest thing to a friend he had and there were some days I couldn't stand him. So, him leaving just was the final nail in the coffin."

"Really?" Rey couldn't imagine anyone running away from their family. She'd kill for one, for Christ's sake.

"Yea. After making Han and Leia miserable for who knows how long he came back. The ass he worked for got caught for some shady shit by the feds. But even when he's back he's still a prick to them. I've seen Leia crying more than once over him."

Making Leia cry? Seriously? She was the sweetest, if not formidable, woman Rey has ever met. "Sounds like a monster."

_________________________________________________________________

Guilt licked up Rey's spine as Ben quietly retold the story.

"You…heard that?"

She racked her mind for any hint that Ben had been anywhere in the vicinity when she and Poe had that conversation. But she specifically remembered seeing him appear in the backyard, glumly greeting his parents as they made their way back from the garage.

"I came through the front door," He shrugged. His eyes were fixed on some yarn he had discovered, his large fingers absently running through the knots that had formed. "Heard you and then…just, didn't want to deal with Dameron's bullshit. So, I went back the way I came and came through the back."

Rey must look like a gaping fish. She doesn't know what to say. Sorry? A part of her feels like she owes him one, but a larger, more stubborn part denies the urge. She feels the heat under her cheeks, even an uncomfortable warmth at the back of her neck, and Rey hates that Ben Solo has done this to her. Because he's an asshole. He's always been an asshole. Maybe she slipped up, a little, but didn't he eventually prove her right about the person he is?

"Ben-" Rey finally managed to strangle out.

"Don't," He snapped. His eyes rise from the yarn to level her with a glare. "Whatever it is you're about to say, just don't."

Rey hadn't the slightest idea what she was going to say but his refusal to hear it-whatever the hell it would have been-has her angry. "What the hell is your problem?"

"I told you-"

"I never met you," She interrupted before he could go any further. "And okay, I took a friend's story at face value, because Poe is my friend, and I made a judgment. Shitty on me, I get it. But it's not like you proved him wrong!"

"I don't need to prove anything to anyone." Ben growled.

"Then why bother!" Rey exclaimed. She should shut up. End this stupid conversation and stupid quest for long gone receipts. Leave the shop, go to bed, and go to Valentine's Day breakfast. Forget Ben Solo and the way he looks when talks about his family, the way he sounds, the pain and anger, and why Rey just doesn't understand but some ridiculous lunatic part of her does and she can't just-

"You come to dinners! The shop! You work here, for Christ's sake. You continuously put yourself in the vicinity of people you supposedly hate and I just don't get-"

"Why would you?" Ben cried. He jumped up from the floor and Rey hastily followed him, intimated enough by his height when they're standing that she doesn't need to gawk up at him while sitting. "You never bothered-"

"You never gave me a chance-"

"You never gave me a chance, Rey. Monster, remember?"

"Ben, I said it was shitty of me. But it could have been overlooked or forgiven or forgotten or-"

"People my whole life expected things of me." Ben seethed but anger no longer laced tightly around his words. Now, she could see the vulnerability of his eyes, the quiver of his lip, and the pure desperation that plunged his voice into a deep tone she'd never heard pass his lips. "The son of a politician and retired solider. Uncle in the White House. I was supposed to be someone. To do great things. It was always too much to bear. It was like the only time anyone paid attention to me was when they were checking in on my grades or future aspirations. Never there for just me, though. Just Ben. So I needed to get away. Needed to be my own person. And I…I…"

Rey knows this part of the story. California. The corrupt Snoke. Whatever wonderful life Ben had imagined being destroyed within five years and sending him back home.

But Ben had stopped talking now.

"Why come back then?" Rey asked softly. Because they had gotten this far, why stop.

"Because I…Christ I…" Ben swallowed thickly. "I needed my family."

Rey's heart broke at his words. For the first time in her life, she felt the urge to hug Ben Solo. To let him nuzzle into her embrace, let the tears stuck in his eyes streak down, and whisper words of encouragement, kindness…love.

But it didn't seem like Ben wanted that. For he didn't move closer to her and Rey, too afraid herself, wouldn't risk a step either.

"You can't change the past," Ben began again, taking in a shallow breath. His hands clench at his sides, restless for something out of reach. "I know I did things wrong, but so did they. And…and it's a lost to be forgiven just like that. But they're….I'm…" He swallowed again. "Trying" He finished.

A simply word meant for all involved.

Trying.

Rey wondered if she should begin to do so to.

"Let's go," Rey sighed, tired all over again. She needed it. Ben needed it. Enough was said tonight that they'd didn't need to suffer in each other's company anymore. At least, that's what Rey figured. "This is…we're not getting anywhere."

Ben quietly nodded his head and moved past her. He retrieved his things from Rose's office and Rey did the same from her own employee locker.

They both met awkwardly at the back door.

"I'm sorry," Rey blurted out before she could think better of it. But for what, she's not sure. The failed attempt to get the receipts? Making him confess so many personnel things? Being, as usual, a thorn in his side?

Ben, as well, seemed to be as unsure to what forgiveness she was seeking. But he doesn't question her. Thankfully (or unfortunately?) he didn't. He just nodded and placed his hand on the doorknob.

Funny thing is, it doesn't turn.

_________________________________________________________________

"Rose, what the hell?"

"Oh my God, Rey, I am so, so, so, sorry!"

Ben had his arms across his chest, starring at Rey with a hint of annoyance.

Rey, on the other hand, is openly fuming. She might crush her cellphone in her fist right then and there.

"Rose, this can't-no, just no, this can't be happening. There's no way I-we-are locked in here all night and that-"

"Rey, it's a new system!"

This does, unfortunately, register in Rey's mind. They had gotten a new security set up last week when Han swore they were missing some parts. Rose was given the task, and that was really the last Rey heard of it.

"I'm always the last one at the shop!" Rose continued desperately to explain. "And typing in a code wasn't working, for some unknown reason. The stupid thing wouldn't save it! I'd always have to put a new one in! And I've been on the phone with the company ten times, I swear, and they said they were going to send someone down but they're booked the next few weeks-"

"Rose-"

"Using facial recognition just made sense-at the time. And-and I forgot today that you'd stay late-but Rey! The whole thing locks down at 8 pm. What are you still doing there?"

Rey wanted to groan aloud. So she did.

Ben raised one his eyebrows at her.

"We couldn't find what Ben wanted," Rey explained. "We didn't know this place was a ticking time bomb ready to trap us."

"I know, I'm sorry! I should have warned you regardless. Christ, I feel like crap."

"Rose, can't you just-" But Rey knew the answer before she could even finish.

There isn't any airport in their town. The closest one was a three hour drive. It's why Han and Rose needed to leave so quickly today. Rose had specifically gotten a hotel room for the night knowing once she picked up Paige it would be too late to drive back.

They were stuck.

"Rey, I'm sorry. We're leaving bright and early tomorrow-"

"I know, I know."

It was a small consolation, knowing at least she wouldn't miss breakfast. Rose had said she was heading straight there once she and her sister made it back in town.

"Rey-"

"Rose, it's…fine. We'll just make do."

Make do.

All night.

In a locked auto shop alone with Ben Solo.

Fantastic.

_________________________________________________________________

"What are you doing?"

Rey had made camp on the shop's ancient couch, something apparently older than Han itself. But it was soft, if not a bit smelly, and its patches made it all the more endearing to Rey. Worn and loved, as all things should be.

And she was definitely claiming it before Ben's monstrous form could.

There was the paper-thin mattress with lumps the size of rocks in the back Han usually slept on when Leia kicked him out (which, fingers crossed, hadn't happened for a good year).

But instead, he had disappeared into Han's office while Rey got comfortable, only to come back with a large bottle of brown liquid.

"Whiskey," he simply said.

Rey scrunched her nose. "You're going to drink?"

"Sure, why not?"

"Because-" Well, she supposed there wasn't really a good reason not to. It would certainly make the time go faster and sleep come quicker. Make this whole nightmare just come to a much-needed end.

During her silence, Ben had the audacity to plop down beside her on the couch. The furniture groaned a bit and Rey squawked in indignation.

"I am not sitting on the floor," He proclaimed and opened up the bottle.

"You are so-"

"Be nice or I won't share."

Well, he had her there.

_________________________________________________________________

Ben hadn't bothered with glasses, so the two are taking turns swigging down the whiskey.

Rey coughed each time.

Ben barely hides a smirk each time she does.

"What's California like?" She asked after another embarrassing sputter.

Ben tensed beside her.

"I mean," Rey's tongue felt immediately thick. "I wasn't asking to be rude. I-uh, I'm just curious. I've never been. It's looks…" Beautiful, she had wanted to say. But her tongue felt too twisted to get it out. She took another swig before handing the bottle over.

Ben relaxed, somewhat, but still eyed her a bit warily. "It's overrated."

"Really?" It seemed like a ridiculous notion. "But the beaches-"

"If you hadn't noticed by the color of my skin, I'm not much one for sun."

"But…all that blue!" Rey continued to argue. "It must be something!" Endless seas, bright skies, the smell of fresh air, and vibrant colors that seem too good to truly exist. How could anyone ever deny such an image?

Ben wiped at his mouth after a long sip. "It's something all right. It was a place to escape, not some pipe dream I had since childhood. I would have run to Alaska had it been an option. Hell, even out of the country but I had sat on my ass getting a passport."

A sour Ben Solo dressed in all black on a beach in California had Rey shaking and coughing up loud, broken laughs. "Only you would willingly run away to somewhere that would make you miserable."

Earlier, that might have caused another fight between them. But now, even Ben couldn't hold back a soft smile.

"I liked my apartment." He added shyly, catching a noiseless moment between two of her googling noises. "It was quiet. And mine. The first thing I really got for myself."

Rey calmed herself down to regard him and the soft, genuine admission. Eventually, she found herself retuning his smile. "That seems nice. That's going to be me soon."

Ben looked at her questioningly.

"Well, he hasn't out right said it, but Finn will be moving out soon. He and Poe have been together, for like, ever and he can't want to be strapped with me for much longer."

"You don't sound too happy."

"I am!" Rey argued but she knew how she sounded. Weak. Fake. Barely holding it together. The alcohol was stripping away her attuned ability to hide behind a mask. "I mean, I am-I'm happy Finn and Poe have each other. I don't wish that away."

"But?"

"But…" Rey sighed, her head falling back onto the muddy couch. When the dark colors of the ceiling began to swirl, she closed her eyes. "I'll be alone, again. I guess I should be used to it."

Ben was silent beside her.

"I-I just thought. I don't know, it was stupid whatever I thought. That Finn was going to stay with me forever? That's ridiculous. I know that. I do. But now-now that it's actually here…and happening and I-I…"

Her throat dried and shrank, and Rey could barely continue to speak let alone breath.

"He's moving out of your apartment, not your life." Ben whispered close to her ear. "It's going to be okay, Rey."

"I know, I swear-"

"Do you? It's okay to break down. To let it all out. A lesson I wished I learned a little earlier."

"Ben," Rey laughed and turned to face him. Oh, was he close. He must have shifted during her little tantrum, his leg now brushing her own and his breath blowing softly onto her cheeks. The shop's aging lamps cast their faces in a dark glow, an eerie yellow with just a tinge of green, but Rey could see just see how deeply brown his eyes were now. How they seemed to smolder as they stared down at her. Too burn.

She stared, suddenly forgetting whatever it is she was going to say. "I…" Her tongue darted out, sliding against her dry bottom lip.

Ben's eyes dropped down to it, following the motion slowly.

"I'll be fine," She finally whispered out. Her voice felt as dry as the rest of her. "I will."

His eyes slowly crawled back up her face, reuniting with her gaze. "You have more than Finn, you know."

Rey should have looked away or put some distance between them. They were drinking, and alone, and this was bound to end up nowhere good. But those eyes. She couldn't look away from them. And the way he was speaking to her, so hushed, so intensely.

Ben took her silence as reluctance.

"You're not alone." He repeated again, louder and firmer.

The small increase of volume had her straightening up, ever so slightly. If anything, the movement only made her slide closer to Ben. Their shoulders pressed against each other now.

Rey whispered back, "Neither are you."

And this was it. The moment they would kiss. She'd seen the movies. Read the books. Hell, she had her own fair share of in real life moments. Stories being shared. Voices hushed. Faces angled. Liquid bravery coursed through their veins and all Ben needed to do was lean his head down just a bit closer.

But it's not what happened.

An indecipherable look crossed Ben's features and before Rey could even process what it was, he was pulling away. The couch groaned, seemingly just as pissed as Rey, as he rose up, all but running away from her and towards the back of the shop.

"I need to use the bathroom," He called over his shoulder.

The door slammed shut behind him.

"What the fuck?" Rey hissed into empty room.

Because what the fuck?

It's her own fault, she supposed.

What was she thinking, Ben Solo wanted to kiss?

Sure, they had climbed over some walls tonight. Bared some parts of their souls and connected in a way they never really had the chance too since meeting each other.

But that didn't erase the past. Hadn't that been what Ben said? Maybe they could forge some kind of friendship after tonight, but it wasn't like a shared bottle of whiskey and some whispered confessions was going to speed them past go and straight to kissing.

It was only four-five-six(?) hours ago they hated each other.

Rey rationalized all of this as she sat alone on the couch. The now very, very empty couch without a certain man's hulking presence. But that didn't stop her from continuing to chug down the bottle. Or quell down any of her anger. Or have the sting of rejection lessen.

Because now it was near midnight-or one? Rey couldn't read the clock right. But whatever, it was Valentine's Day. Great. She had gotten rejected on Valentine's Day. One of the exact things she specifically tried to avoid during this damned holiday.

And rejected by Ben Solo no less.

Her knuckles were white, twisted around the neck of the bottle when Ben reappears.

He's shuffling on his feet, and his hair looked like he ran his fingers through it about fifty times. He's looks wrecked, to put it bluntly, and Rey wonders what hell trouble he could have gotten into in a bathroom the size of a shoebox.

His eyes breezed past her to land on the bottle. "You're still…drinking?"

He sounds so very confused that Rey bristled, misinterpreting his tone for judgment. "Is there a problem?"

"Ah, no-that's…do what you want." He finished lamely. His eyes are now everywhere but her. "I guess I'll head to bed now."

"So early?" Rey snipped. "What a lightweight." She's being mean, and it would probably be best for both of them if he did just go to bed. Certainly for Rey who just wants blood at the current moment and will probably regret this come morning.

Ben frowned down at his feet. "It's late."

"If you think after tonight I'm coming in to work tomorrow-"

"Well, I have a meeting tomorrow."

"A tax meeting on Valentine's Day, how romantic."

Oh, that got him to finally look at her. Glare, more like it. "As if it's any of your business what I do or don't on Valentine's Day."

"I could care less!" Rey agreed with a shout. The liquid in the bottle sloshed along with her. "But I'm here tonight because of you and your stupid receipts!"

"You volunteered-"

"I was doing it for Han-"

"Well God bless you and your love for Han-"

"Christ!" Rey snapped and hopped to her feet. Bottle still clutched firmly in hand, mind you. "Here we friggin go again. You and your God damn comments!"

Ben ran a hand through his hair. Tugged it so painfully, actually, there was no way some of those luscious black strands were not getting pulled out. "What the hell do you want from me, Rey?"

"Man up and drink with me!"

Oh yea, because that was the right thing to say at a time like this.

_________________________________________________________________

"This is fucking ridiculous."

The volume of Ben's voice implied he wanted to have kept the comment to himself, but he and Rey were sitting way too close for her not to hear.

For the sake of her sanity, and for this stupid game she had started, Rey chose to ignore it. "Pick a damn card."

"This is meant to be played as a group, Rey."

"We can play Kings however we want to play Kings."

"Rey…"

"Drink," She commanded, pushing the bottle towards him.

Ben looked at her incredulously. "I didn't even pick a card!"

"You're complaining. New rule, you complain, you drink. So drink."

His lips (plush, damn lips) thinned into a line. But he took a swig without another word, slamming the bottle a little loudly back onto the ground.

"Good, now pick a card please."

Ben sighed and flipped the one nearest to him. "Five"

"Guys!" Rey chirped.

"Me? Again?"

Rey motioned toward the bottle.

"Looks like you're just trying to get me drunk."

"Yes, thank God, now you get it."

Ben shook his head and tipped his head back.

Rey definitely did not watch the way his neck bobbed as the liquid slid down.

"Your turn."

Silently, Rey flipped a card and immediately smiled. "Well you just got lucky, Solo. You just got a date."

"Rey, that means we're going to be drinking every single turn."

"And the problem is?"

Ben rolled his eyes.

"Come on! You just scored yourself a date on Valentine's Day! Much more exciting than your stupid tax date."

A lovely red colored Ben's cheeks. "It's not a date. And maybe you should slow down for your date tomorrow."

"Oh yea, because me being hungover will put a big stop to those plans. Now your turn, let's go!"

Ben's brow furrowed, and Rey could clearly see a question forming behind those expressive eyes. But whatever it was, he thought better and stopped himself. Still blushing, though, which was interesting. It was hardly anything but a fun tease she had delivered him, why was he being effected so? Rey almost asked that question herself when Ben turned up a new card. "Jack"

Rey grinned. "Never have I ever."

"Of all the childish games-"

"Three fingers up, let's go! I'll go first. Never have I ever, been out of the state."

Ben's eyes narrowed. "Cheap shot. Alright, never have I ever, had a date on Valentine's Day."

"How dare you. We are currently-"

"Not dates, not because of this stupid game. You know what I mean."

Rey huffed and, even though she didn't need to yet, grabbed the bottle of whiskey. It was getting much, much lighter. Not a good sign for this night. Especially with this next awfully embarrassing admission, "Well, jokes on you, we're both losers." Worse, her own situation was keeping her from mercilessly teasing Ben for never having a date.

Ben's mouth slid open, then closed, and that innocently, stupid, confused look graced his features once more. "But you said you had a date."

"Well yea but not a date-date."

"What the hell does that mean?"

"It's not…" Rey huffed. "Every year me and Finn go out to breakfast for Valentine's Day. We were poor and single and hungover and it was fun so we just kept doing it. So now Poe and Rose come too, and it's kind of a tradition, and I really didn't want to miss it before when you threatened to let this stupidity spill into tomorrow morning."

The dull tick-tock of the clock, hung crookedly over Rose's office door, followed her slurred explanation. A tick-tock that thumped too loudly in her head, possibly even her heart, but why? She didn't say anything important. Not really. And yet it sounded like she did. Ben was looking at her like she did. Like her rushed and drunken explanation of a silly breakfast was actually admitting to…to…

To what?

To-

"Oh." Ben said simply. Just that. Oh.

God, she must be more drunk than she realized. Making up looks Ben was shooting her. Making up that there was something between them. That she said something that actually meant something deeper. Stupid, stupid, stupid. He had rejected her once, did he need to do it again?

"What a self-sabotaging move, Solo," It was a hasty and obvious attempt to redirect the convo. Pathetic, too, in Rey's own opinion. "Trying to take me down while admitting you've never had a date. Not exactly suave."

"My turn," Ben said instead. "Never have I ever-"

"Wait, it's not your turn-"

"Not had a crush on one of my coworkers."

"A double negative? Seriously Ben? That's so stup-" Oh. Oh wait.

What had he just said?

Coworkers. He didn't have a crush on one of his coworkers. No- wait, right, double negative. So, Ben did have a crush on a coworker. Which were-who were-ah, "Rose?" Rey blurted out, confused and more intoxicated by the second.

"What? No, God Rey, not Rose."

"Well not Rose, then-" Shit. Shit, shit, shit. Her. It was her. She was the only other option. The only other coworker.

Ben Solo had a crush on her.

Rey starred dumbly at his ridiculously handsome face. Which yea, she was going to admit to that now. Because he just said he had a crush on her. And if he could admit that, then she could admit how hot-God damn hot-she found Ben Solo.

And she was starring way too long at this point.

"Rey?" Ben asked.

"I'm processing."

"Oh. Um, is that…good?"

"No. I mean, yes. I mean, I don't know, I'm processing!"

"Look, if it's easier-just forget it. I'm drunk. I'm sorr-"

Rey's hand shot up, covering his stupid (no, perfect, she was calling it perfect now) mouth. "Don't you dare apologize. Explain first."

From beneath her palm, Ben mumbled, "Explain?"

A tingling wave of pleasure swept up Rey's arm and down her spine, the feel of Ben's lips moving against her skin too good to believe. She wanted the sensation elsewhere. Everywhere. On her lips, her neck, her-

Rey gasped. Out. Loud.

The image of Ben's head buried in her chest, between her breasts. Her hands in his hair, grabbing those black locks herself, feeling how soft they were. Finding out why he liked to run his fingers through them himself so friggin much.

"Rey?"

She swallowed thickly and pulled her hand back like Ben was an oven and she was a foolish child who didn't know any better. "I…" The images wouldn't stop. Ben mumbling against her skin, deep, husky words in between sloppy kisses. Shit, her nipples were hardening underneath her shirt. Which was nothing but a dumpy white tee, dirty from a day's work and sweat covering a bra that desperately needed to be replaced and held absolutely no cushioning. So if Ben was to look, oh yea, he would see the effect he was unintentionally having on her.

"Are you okay?" Ben asked, completely oblivious to her struggle. He even leant forward, reached toward her with a hesitant hand-

With a squeak, Rey slipped backwards with an embarrassing plop right down on her rump. "Fine! I'm fine!"

Ben frowned but withdrew his hand. "Okay. I just-look, forget it, like I said."

"No!" Rey cried. Because that was absolutely the last thing she wanted to do, even if she was acting like a confused mess right now. "I don't want to-look, just…I thought you hated me? Don't you hate me? The way you act…"

"It's not as if you treat me any better."

Rey crossed her arms over her chest. "I'm not the one who just admitted to having a crush."

"Fine. Just fine, you got me there. I," Ben breathed loudly through his nose. "Look, what we talked about before. The conversation I overheard between you and Poe? Shockingly, it sent me on edge. And, shocking yet again, I lashed out. Then it was like I couldn't stop. Because of course you gave as good as you got, why wouldn't you the way I was acting? I even admired you then when you were biting my head off. And I-shit, I'm really pouring out my heart here, Rey. We got so far down that road it was like I couldn't turn around even though I wanted to."

The picture was so clear. Rey didn't understand why she hadn't pieced it together herself before Ben's confession. Because why wouldn't the hurt boy turned still healing man trust anyone new in his life? Especially some stranger, who had never even met him, and had called him a monster? Why would he be kind? Or trusting?

It wasn't so simple. Obviously. He wasn't blameless either nor was she completely guilty.

And apparently the ball was in her court of where this night was going to head.

"It's my turn," Rey said finally, holding up her two fingers.

Ben's lips curved downward. His whole demeanor seemed to sag.

"Ben," Rey prompted, nodding toward his hand. "Please."

Weakly, he raised his two fingers.

"Never have I ever kissed a Solo."

His eyes snapped up towards her.

She was too shy to do anything but grin in return.

Silence ensued for a moment, and it had Rey ridiculously thinking that maybe she had got something wrong. But then, "Is that a statement, or a challenge, sweetheart?"

Funny, that was the first time he ever used that nickname in a non-mocking way.

Rey wondered if he had always wanted to say it to her like this. She didn't have to time to ask, or even ponder, because she leant forward without another word and Ben happily met her half way.

It was tentative, at first.

Both were still a bit unsure, and perhaps a bit too drunk. Ben was gently moving against her lips, navigating their shape before settling on her bottom one and sucking softly. Rey gasped when she felt the tug of his teeth, and it was all he needed to slip his tongue inside.

Hands were suddenly at her hips, dragging her across the concrete floor and making a mess of their forgotten King's game. Rey moaned when Ben lifted her onto his lap and right against the seam of his pants.

Her hips rolled without a conscious thought, and now Ben was the one groaning.

"Rey," He whispered, pulling back to look at her. "You don't know how long I-"

"Me too," She gasped, arching against him. Ben was now meeting her movement with thrusts of his own, as well as she could manage on the hard floor. "God Ben, me too."

His hands gripped her waist, directing her to go harder, faster against him. "Fuck," He hissed, looking down to watch them move against each other. "Sometimes I didn't even need to come here, I just wanted to see you."

She closed her eyes and leant her head back, surrendering to the sensations ravaging her body. Ben immediately took it as invitation to suck happily down her neck, his tongue lavishing her skin as he gave quick nips here and there.

"You were infuriating," Rey breathed when he latched down a particular spot that had here seeing stars. "Fuck, you're still so fucking infuriating."

Ben let go and gripped the back of her neck, pulling the hair back there to angle her lips toward his. "You fucking love it." He growled before catching her in a brutal kiss.

Their movements were getting too sloppy, too fast. Rey was helpless to do anything but chase the pressure that was nearing its edge. She let out a whimper when her legs began to tremble and Ben gripped her ass with kneading hands.

"Cum for me," He ordered, again sucking her bottom lip into his mouth, "Fucking cum for me right now."

Yes, it was right there. His hands. His voice. The feel of his cock, covered by his pants, but large and thick enough to create delicious pressure against the seam of her own jeans. She drew down just a little harder, felt his lips bite her neck again in what must be leaving a mark-

"Ben!" She cried and it all exploded.

"Fuck Rey," He groaned, bucking up harder. She was nothing but air now, weightless and buzzed, but felt him use her body for his own release. "So perfect, so good. Fuck, fuck-"

A brutal groan escaped him with one more thrust, and then they were both still and panting.

Sweat dripped down between her breasts (which shit, he hadn't even got to explore) and Rey could feel her hair, loose and knotty, beginning to stick against her neck. Her knees were also starting to hurt, and she couldn't imagine the effect the floor was having on Ben. But he seemed content to just hold her tightly against him, his face buried in her neck while he took in deep breaths.

"Ben," Rey whispered, taking the still moment to card her fingers through his hair. And oh yes, it was everything she'd ever dreamt about. She was definitely never going to stop doing this whenever she could. "I must be hurting you."

"Worth it." He mumbled, still not moving. But his thumbs began to stroke circles on the skin peeking out between her shirt and pants.

She giggled, the sound soft and sweet and so very, very welcome. Ben's lips even curved into a smile at the sound of it. "We could do this somewhere more comfortable."

"If you're suggesting that piece of rock in the back-"

"The couch, tighter fit but more comfortable."

He finally pulled back to look at her, his face so calm and care free it must have been the first-time Rey had ever saw him like this. "I don't mind the fit."

She rolled her eyes. "Of course, you don't."

As they both got up and settled down onto the couch, Rey more or less having to drape herself over Ben (though no one was complaining), one more question occurred to Rey before sleep finally took over.

"Ben?"

"Hm?"

"Never have I ever brought a date to my Valentine's Day breakfast."

His hand stroked up her back, resting in her hair to gently massage at her scalp. She practically purred like a cat, nuzzling her face into his chest.

"Well, let's see what we can do to change that."

_________________________________________________________________

"So you found them sleeping? Together?" Finn hissed, leaning towards Rose.

The girl nodded her head esthetically, stealing a glance over at the couple in question. "I thought I was dreaming. Or maybe one of them was dead. Or like, it got so cold they needed body heat or something. I had to get Paige out of the car to make sure I wasn't hallucinating."

Maz was currently giving them, well, more Ben, a harsh talking to about visiting her more often. Rey was gazing adoringly at Ben, who was standing like a chastised child, as Maz rambled on. And they were holding hands.

Like, seriously, holding hands.

Poe took a sip of his mimosa. "Never thought I'd see the day Ben Solo got a girlfriend."

"Never thought I see the day Rey got a boyfriend!" Finn countered.

Paige smirked. "Seems like they're a match made in heaven then."

"More like hell." Poe mumbled, earning him a biscuit at the head from Finn.

"Well," Rose picked up her menu, beginning to absently flip through it. "Maybe this means less blow ups at shop. I could do with a more stress free working environment. And Han and Leia are absolutely going to freak."

Poe took on a devilish grin. "You're going to eat those words, Tico. There's certainly going to be more of something at the shop. A different kind of yelling, if you get my drift."

Finn slapped his boyfriend on the shoulder. "You're disgusting."

"Love you too. Happy Valentine's Day!"

[fuck-customers]

Please just go home

This is kinda long so TD;LR this really drunk guy came in and didn’t know how to order and trying to find out what he wanted and getting him to pay was like pulling teeth.

So this guy comes in SUPER drunk and when it’s his turn to order he goes “my order will be.. the burger.. it is for [name].” And he just walks away before I can ask about clarification on any of that and charge him (our entire menu is fuckin burgers so I had no idea which one he wanted.) I still have all this shit to do so I can’t go up to him and ask for clarification and/or give him a cup of water cause he is... gone. He sits waiting at this table staring at me while I take all the orders and stuff and eventually it finally slows down to the point there’s no line, dining room is decent, and I just have a few delivery drivers waiting for their orders cause they got there a little early.

I’m just about to check to see if the drunk guy is still there and he’s at my till again. Conversation goes like this (M=e, G=drunk guy, D1= driver 1, and D2= driver 2)

G: Hey I’ve been waiting here for so long. I think you forgot my order

M: oh yes, I’m sorry sir I didn’t have time to reapproach you when it happened but you never actually gave me an order. You asked for “a burger”, gave me your name, and walked away without paying. I’m sorry for the wait but I can help you now.

G: No I ordered a long time ago I’m still waiting for it.

M: yes I remember you coming to my till but you didn’t actually order anything and walked away before I could get clarification, it will only take a few moments to get your food out to you now though, I can throw in something for free for the trouble. What can I get you.

G: I just ordered a long time ago, I just want my order now.

M:... okay, I may have misheard you since it was loud in here so I didn’t catch what you ordered and in any case you walked away without paying-

G: oh I didn’t pay?

M: ... no.

G: [hands me a 5$ bill] there you go I’ll just sit over here and wait.

M: sir I can’t do anything with your money until you tell me what it is you ordered.

(D1 is sitting and kind of chuckling at this whole ordeal and I’m getting stressed out because half the order is ready already and I haven’t even got the bag or drinks ready for it yet.)

G: oh you don’t need that?

M: I need you to tell me what you would like to eat before I can do anything with your money.

G: oh I’ll take it back then.

M: so you aren’t getting anything?

G:no I’ll just wait for my order over here. [he takes his fiver back and drops it on the way to where he goes to sit.]

M: sir you dropped your money on the floor.

G:yeah that’s okay.

M:.... okay [I go to get D1’s order together and out to him when D2 walks in and see’s the money on the floor. He picks it up and goes to put it in his pocket.]

M: excuse me sir, I believe this gentlemen over here actually dropped that on the floor, it belongs to him.

D2: [apologizes and goes to hand it to G]

G: I don’t need that you can have it I’m just waiting for my order.

D2: are.. you sure?

G: yeah it’s okay.

M: [i have D1’s order for him and I go to double check the order number with both drivers to make sure the right ones going to the right driver.]

G: hey is that my order?

M: no sir, you haven’t ordered anything.

G: yeah I did I ordered a long time ago I’m still waiting.

M: yes as we have been over, you were at my till but asked for nothing specific-

G:look I just want my order.

D1: listen dude, she doesn’t remember what you got you have to tell her again.

G: oh I got the new burger.

M: oh the new [x] burger?

G: no.

M:..... alright well.. which burger did you want sir?

G: I’ll get the popular one.

M: ... the [y] burger?

G: sure.

M: ...........okay so one [y] burger, and that’s all for you tonight?

G: no.

M: ......

G: I want 2.

M: ..okay 2 [y] burgers. And is that all for you tonight?

G: yes I’ll be waiting over here.

M: sir wait, you need to pay.

G: I can’t. THAT GUY [points at D2] stile my money.

D2: I’m sorry sir I tried to give it back to you.

G: well maybe next time.. you should try harder...

(D2 and I exchange a knowing look)

G: [tries to pay with the fiver]

M: I’m sorry sir your total is actually $12

G: oh.. what? For a burger?

M: no sir you ordered 2 of them and they’re $6 each.

G: ridiculous... [pushes a card into the machine before telling me he was doing that or what kind of card it is]

M: sir is that on debit or credit?

G: on card.

M: yes, but is it debit or credit?

G: why does it matter?

M:....... so I can press the right button on my screen and your payment can go through.

G: oh. That’s dumb.

M: yeah sure so is that debit or credit?

G: um.. I’m not sure can you tell me? [shoves cars in my face]

M: okay... it’s credit ... you’re good to go.

G: oh I can leave? But I want my order.

M: I mean the pinpad is ready.

G:ohhhh okay [he finally fucking pays for his food]

M: thank you, would you like your receipt?

G: what’s that?

M:.......................... here you can have it.

G: oh thanks [he later drops it on the floor and leaves it there.]

His food is ready by the time it’s paid for but so is D2’s order so I put together that one first out of spite but they both go out at practically the same time because 2 burgers takeout is a lot easier to bag than a big delivery order. The guy ends up apologizing to the driver and asks for a hug to which the driver declines. He is about to leave when another group of people walk in (right when I think I can finally clean the damn restaurant because it’s 4am and usually that’s the fuckin quiet time where I’m able to clean after the bar rushes)

He begins talking to these people very loudly and it becomes apparent he doesn’t know them. After being loud a little bit longer he discards his bag still full of 2 half eaten burgers on the floor and finally leaves. I didn’t get my cleaning done by the time my shift was over 2 hours later and my boss made me stay for 2 more hours of unpaid overtime (I was on salary) to get it all done even though technically more than half of those cleaning tasks are the morning persons to do.

I don’t work there anymore.

[leaveharmony]

It’s so hard to type on the tablet so I did only the briefest of summaries at the time.  An account of random Tana encounters in NYC over supercard weekend, cut for length.

Anyway - I’d promised @lone-gunwoman-of-the-week a new york postcard, which with one thing and another I had forgotten entirely about until Saturday, when we passed a big rack of them outside a touristy place down the street and I stopped dead and pointed, “POSTCARD!”

We were on a trek to Macy’s at the time, looking to get mum an emergency replacement purse because hers had blown out its zipper with all the stuff she was carrying in it - the last straw was after Wrestlecon when she couldn’t find her Metrocard, and then it just gave up the ghost.

(Macy’s was way too expensive as an aside - we ended up going to K mart lol.  Those all closed here like two decades ago!)

So we got the postcard, and then a stamp at the other gift shop in the hotel...only I was in pretty rough shape so we decided to go back up to the room so I could actually write the postcard & address and such.  So we went back down to mail it, conveniently at the letterbox at the other end of the lobby.

Like I say, @joshi-hashi by total coincidence booked us at the same hotel where the whole roster was staying, so over the course of three days I ran into / saw, including but probably not limited to: Kazu, Ishii, Sho & Yoh, Yano, Tacos, Goto, Shingo, Naito, EVIL, Will, Shibata & his lions, Juice, Zack (we kept riding the elevator with him lol), Jay, Tama, Haku, Yujiro, Gedo, Jado, Taguchi, Rocky, Ren, Shota, Red Shoes, Sato, Marty, MiSu, Taka, Kota, Kagatsu & a few of the other Stardom girls, Sumie...

Again, I was in rough shape and mum was faring no better, so in the window of time between waking up and the show, we could have gone and done more tourist stuff but after the subway disaster on Friday, we elected just to stay around home base, Saturday.  And I needed to sit down, so we picked a spot on one of the long padded couches in the lobby to recoup a little.  Not a minute later, Tacos, Goto & Yano rounded the bend from the elevator - we’d somehow managed to time it so that we were sitting there as literally everybody was making their way across to MSG for the show.  Hand on heart, total coincidence...I just wanted to mail a postcard lol.  As obviously times when you can just sit there comfortably and watch the whole NJPW roster walk past are fairly limited in number, we elected to stay a while.  Kazu actually came from the direction of the doors but he did have a suitcase, so I have no idea where he’d been - he grinned at us when we waved though.  Shota smiled too, Kota managed somehow to smile, wave and bow without even slowing down because that’s just the kinda guy he is.  MiSu looked at us like we were nuts every time we waved lol but we kept doing it anyway.  Most didn’t notice - I always feel like being to forward is rude so we just kept to our seat & waved rather than trying to get selfies or start a conversation - everybody was obviously all over everywhere and busy.

I couldn’t help myself on a very specific occasion, though.  “We’ll wait til 3:30,” I said casually, fooling no one.  We had the end bench right by the little dividing wall that obscures the elevators; he emerged nearly right next to me and I sprang up like a jack in the box.  My hair was pigtailed and I had my hat on rather than the feathered headband & ponytail, and I was dressed like a normal human being rather than wrestling Cinderella, but he remembered me ^_^  I didn’t want to detain him or anything so we just clasped hands again & I wished him luck - though I guess it didn’t help much.  But I was so happy just to see him again, for what I figured would be the last (probably only) time casually.  Two really sweet Japanese ladies also spotted him on the way out and physically chased him down the lobby to say hi lol.  The pillars were a little in the way but we could see him beaming while they gushed over him, and then they took a selfie.  I guess they must have complimented his hair (which looked fucking amazing) because he told them getting it done for the show cost $300 lol.  It absolutely looked it.  We were still sitting there when they came back and of course they noticed my Tana shirt - they both had his shirts on too (I think he might have signed them on the spot cos they were both proudly showing me the autographs).  So we had a really lovely chat in what they could manage in english (much much better than my broken Japanese).  Rachel appeared not long after, summoned by my mention of Kota going past, and so we all talked a while.  I just.  I love wrestling lol and the kinship of wrestling fans.

Later, after Supercard (which was on whole at least live very good, apart from some really, really stupid decisions on ROH’s part) it was past midnight when we got back to the room; our airport shuttle was due to arrive at 3:05 last we’d heard, but mum had a text message waiting RE: a slight bump up to 3:15, something schedule or logistics related I guess.  So we figured that there was no point going to bed as we’d maybe get two hours’ sleep before the wake up call and it’d be better to use the time packing and getting everything arranged.  When more or less everything was, I went up to floor 12 to sit up at the common table with Elle & Rachel (admittedly I broke into a bit of a sprint when Elle texted to say Tana’d gone past lol).  By another total coincidence as we were sitting there loudly discussing the show, an absolutely lovely gentleman who works in what sounded like a v. important position with NJPW World happened to walk past and overhear.  He’s obviously got a vested interest, so he u-turned as I was saying “If someone had only just casually seen this as a first introduction they’d probably come away concluding New Japan is amazing and ROH is terrible.”

“New japan is amazing?” he echoed, to a chorus of Yes’s.  So we had a chat for about twenty minutes giving him general feedback, telling him how we all met cos of NJPW, how we first heard about it, watch every show live, showed him all our costumes for the show, etc.  He got a handle on Elle and Rachel’s names but kept calling me “Hiroshi” because he’d seen me the day before at Wrestlecon in my Tana dress lmao.   He was a real sweetheart - a fan turned employee, living the dream.  He thanked us for paying his salary, essentially lol.  I should have thought to ask him about putting out an english subtitled version of Shinsuke’s Wonderland interview XD

But I had to run not long after he left, cos I’d cut it a bit fine with 20 minutes or so before the shuttle was scheduled.  We weren’t sure if the driver would come looking or if we had to be outside, so mum checked the keycards while I ran to see if I could ask the doorman, figuring he/they would keep a better watch and know what to look for, or just know which way it would be.  That early in the morning there wasn’t a doorman, though.  So to play it safe we stayed by the doors just inside, keeping watch, figuring at about five min before the appointed time we’d go outside.  “The lobby seems so empty without all the wrestlers in it,” mum remarked.  I figured that late, everyone must have gone to bed already.

Not long after though, TAKA came in with uh...let’s just say ‘some lady friends’ and hope they were fully informed lady friends.  “There, happy?” I said to mum, looking back towards the door in time to see Kota heading for it with a few of the accompanying entourage I figure must have been staff, translators and officials - they were everywhere too, this weekend.  I thought for a split second, ‘Oh good, I’ll be able to congratulate him!’ before he faded to a gentle haze in the background, as the sun himself said something on the way past and walked on by the door, towards Macy’s.  I don’t even think I said anything to mum but she probably understood when I took off at a dead sprint, not even bothering to drop my suitcase handle, just towing it behind me like a little red wagon.  I blew past Kota without even looking at him (I’m so sorry dude!!!!) and went as fast as my poor abused knee could carry me the way he’d gone - he hadn’t gotten far, just tucked around a little corner by the entrance - I think he was gonna do another selfie or panoramic lol. 

Again, the man is fucking unflappable, as he didn’t even raise an eyebrow when confronted with a disheveled, panting nutcase in a trenchcoat and newsboy cap being smacked in the back of her legs w/ her own suitcase at the abrupt stop.  “We’re just waiting for our airport shuttle!” I blurted.  “So I get to say goodbye!”

He actually managed to look happy to see me, bless his heart lol.  He thanked me for the third time, for the doll I made him, and I just said thank you for everything.  Again - I don’t like to be too forward, I don’t even think I could bring myself to ask for a hug, I’m too shy & too much of a headcase wrt fear of being a burden or an annoyance.  But he came at me first, and when the Ace has his arms open to you, there is but one possible course, and that course is to throw yourself into them lol.  He is a wonderful hugger :’)  It’s like being wrapped in the embrace of everything that is good and pure in this world & that’s not even hyperbole, that was really how it felt.

I’m so glad I got to say goodbye.  I mean...it would’t have broken my heart, you know?  There’s always that “Oh maybe I’ll see him again at random” thought in the back of the mind but it’s utterly without expectation.  But I was blessed enough to have the chance to speak to him twice, by chance. 

It really was like a lil fairytale; my lil wrestling Cinderella dream come true in a way I never would have actually believed.