#the therapist told dick to stop smiling and be friendly

[confused-wanderer]

Everyone gets terrified when they see Dick put on the Cape and go into downright brooding shadow death aura mode, capturing Bruce’s scowl and glare to an uncanny extent.

They don’t know that the real reason Nightwing had to get real good real fast at transforming into batman is because in his early batman days he accidentally smiled while trying to talk down this guy from blowing up a building.

They made eye contact for a split second, before the guy burst into tears. He then proceeded to rip off the bomb, throw up, faint, wake up, throw up again before immediately running for the window of the 45th floor of a building.

[angelst4re]

hi sweetie! i have been dying for a teacher x student type of story trope with jamie ;) with some smut if your comfortable <3

i dont think i've ever written for teacher!jamie before so i could not just let this request sit in my inbox for another 4 months... i also combined it with a jealous jamie smut request but i'm thinking of making a part 2 to this which has more jealous jamie... which i may even be writing right now!!! <3

Sugar- Teacher!Jamie x Reader

♡ warnings: NSFW!!! contains smut!!! please don't read if you're not comfortable love! NEITHER AGES ARE SPECIFIED BUT READER IS 18+ <3 it’s only ever mentioned that theres a 15 year age gap

♡ notes: i attempted to keep this as gender neutral as possible but reader is afab! also i kinda rushed this because i just needed to post something!! but there's going to be a part 2 I PROMISE!!!

“...Oh, and don’t forget, y/l/n, we have a one to one scheduled for 3:30 to discuss your exam results. I’ll be in my office.” Mr Bower, who insisted you call him Jamie, reminded you with a smile as you left the classroom. 

“I haven’t forgotten, sir.” You say as you turn back around to smile at him, and give him a little wave before you leave the room. 

You had two hours to spare before your meeting with the music teacher, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t spend the majority of the time in the bathroom making sure you looked perfect. You had been waiting for a moment like this, a moment alone with the teacher that has plagued your mind since the beginning of the school year. You and your friends, and most likely the entire class, had been captivated by not only his looks but his personality. Having learnt that he had recently become single after a three year long relationship, you felt like you stood a chance, but then you were quickly reminded of the 15 year age gap. 

However, his behaviour around you didn’t go unnoticed. You’d catch him eyeing you up when you would come in wearing a new outfit that evidently boosted your confidence, or you would catch him looking over at you whilst you were in the middle of a written exam, and he would quickly divert his eyes when they met yours. 

Despite the clear indication he may be into you the way you’re into him, you both had a very positive, friendly relationship. He would give you the best tips and advice, and be more than willing to help you progress in the ways you wished to, as he would with anybody in the class, but there was one particular encounter that you couldn’t stop thinking about. 

You and your boyfriend, Andy, had a fight the night before and you had missed your class in the morning. Jamie got in contact with you to ask about the absence, and you felt comfortable enough to explain the situation to him. He told you that even if you didn’t attend your classes that day, to at least come in to talk about how you’re feeling. He assured you that although he didn’t qualify as a therapist, it would be good to talk to someone. And so you did. 

You came in with unbrushed hair, wearing yesterday's clothes and threw yourself onto the chair in his office as you broke down in tears. You don’t remember much of that day, besides the pet names he would casually drop into his sentences. 

Sweetheart, love, darling.

He definitely knew how to charm. 

You also had a memory of staining his white shirt with tears as he let you cry into his chest, telling him how your boyfriend was a dick. How he was caught in bed with a random girl (to which there was proof) but he tried to convince you it never happened. 

You remember Jamie telling you something along the lines of, “every failed relationship should be thought of as a blessing. It might be upsetting to see it come to an end, but it means you’re still yet to find the one out there who’s for you, and it's giving the chance to find them. The one that will treat you right, even on their bad days. You’ll never know where this person may be, but they’re definitely out there.”

It was apparent through a quick google search that Jamie was definitely experienced when it came to relationships, so you knew to trust him on this one. 

You kept checking the time on your phone, waiting and waiting and waiting for it to hit 3:25 so you could begin walking towards Jamie’s office, but the time seemed to pass so slow. 

It was only 3pm. 

You sighed, placing your phone back down on the table you were sat at in the library. All your friends had gone home as you finish early on a Wednesday, yet you agreed to meet Jamie today as it was the only afternoon he had free this week. 

Only seconds after placing your phone down on the table, the screen lights up as it begins to ring, the noise causing everyone to turn around, some even sending dirty looks your way as you pick up your bag and leave, answering the phone as you begin to walk towards the building where Jamie’s office was. 

“What do you want, Andy?” You sighed, holding the phone up to your ear. 

“I miss you,” he said, a feeble attempt to guilt trip you, “I was just looking at some old pictures and-”

“It was your idea for us to take a break in the first place. I’m not just going to drop everything and come running back to you because you ‘miss me’.” 

“I’m sorry, okay. I realised what I did was wrong and…” 

You stopped listening to what Andy was saying as Jamie passed you in the hallway, sensing your distressed state he stopped quickly to mouth an ‘is everything okay?’, to which you nodded your head. 

“I don’t care, okay. Whatever you have to say I’m sure I’ve heard it all before. When I’m ready to talk to you I will, until then just please give me some space.” You say before ending the call, and you jump as you realise Jamie was waiting by your side. 

You were blocking the door to his office. 

“I’m so sorry!” You apologise, stepping to the side. 

“Don’t apologise!” Jamie gasped, as if you had offended him, before opening the door for you, “we can start early if that’s okay with you, I have nothing else planned this afternoon.” 

Nodding your head, you entered his office. 

“So he’s still giving you grief- Andy?” 

“How did you guess?” You scoff as you sit down on the chair opposite his desk. 

“I don’t know how a someone like you can stay with someone like him-”

“We’re on a break, actually.” You interrupted. “Although he seems to care about me more now than he did in the 8 months we were together.” 

“You need to leave him for good, sweetheart.” He told you, as he rummaged through the cabinet beside his desk, pulling out your exam papers and setting them in front of you. “So, let’s begin!”

Only twenty minutes into the session, your phone began to ring again, and you apologised to Jamie, getting ready to leave the room to take the call before realising it was Andy again. Jamie didn't look best impressed as you ran a hand through your hair stressfully. 

“Give me your phone.” Jamie sighed. 

“No, it’s okay, really. I’ll just switch it off-”

“Y/n. Phone.”

The sternness in his voice sent chills through your body, yet a warmth grew in your lower stomach. 

By the time you handed your phone over to him, Andy had stopped calling. Hopefully, he had given up, but you knew he would keep going until he got his way, like always. 

“You know, sweetheart, the look on your face when you saw it was him calling you told me everything.” Jamie said, leaning back in his chair. 

“What do you mean?” You scoffed. 

“You know what I mean, darling. Please stop trying to convince yourself he’s a good guy, not when he treats you like shit and expects you to drop everything for him. You deserve better.”

“And how do you know that? Sure, me and Andy might have our moments, but when he can be nice… he’s somebody completely different. Deep down, he’s a really good guy, Jamie.” You explain, feeling tears of frustration begin to gloss your eyes. 

“I’m not buying it, love.” He said, shaking his head in disbelief. 

And that was all it took to push you over the edge, shoving your phone into your bag as you pushed your exam papers towards him and stood up. 

“That’s it, I’m not taking this anymore.” You frown, turning around to leave. 

“There we go, that’s what you should say next time Andy’s on the phone-”

“Oh, Jamie, won’t you just shut up!” You shout, throwing your arms in the air. “What is your fucking problem today?”

“Well, technically your ‘boyfriend’ isn’t my problem, so…”

“Why do you care so much?” You finally say after a moment's silence, your hands placed on the back of the chair you were previously sitting on. 

“You’re my student. It’s my job to care.” He answers, simply. 

“But there’s more to it than that. Isn’t there?” You swallow, bracing yourself for his reply, “c’mon Jamie, I’m not stupid.” 

“What are you trying to imply, darling?” He chuckles, standing up from his chair and making his way towards you, “are you talking about the way I catch you staring at me in class when everyone else is working, or how about when I hear you gossiping with your friends about my love life, or about how you could tell I had used a different aftershave one day…” 

The smirk on his face was devilish, but you had no time to process that with your recent revelation. 

“You’re jealous.” You stated, turning to look up at him. “You’re jealous of Andy.” 

“Darling, I have no need to be jealous of him. Not when I know you’re leaving him.” 

“You don’t know whether I’m-”

You never got to finish that sentence as you were met with his lips on yours. His hand came up to cup your cheek, his thumb wiping away a tear which had fallen in your moment of frustration. As he pulled back from the kiss, he pressed his forehead against yours before whispering,

“What if I prove you- show to you why you should leave him, hm?” He asked, although it wasn’t much of a question as he could tell by the way you were looking at him what the answer was going to be. “I need words, baby.” 

“Yes.” You managed to say, after catching your breath. 

A smile spread across Jamie’s lips briefly before you pulled him back in, missing the feeling of his soft lips against yours. With one hand on your waist, holding you against him, the other was placed on your cheek again, whilst your arms wrapped around his neck. You had dreamt and fantasised about this moment for months, but you never expected it to ever happen. It was always more of a scenario to help you fall asleep rather than something that would actually come true. 

“Does he fuck you good, hm? The way you want?” He asks, breathlessly, as he lifts you up onto his desk, shoving everything out of the way. 

You shake your head, using the slight space between you to reach for his belt, but he seemed to have other plans. 

“Has he ever gone down on you?” He asked bluntly, his fingers dipping into the waistband of your shorts, easing them down your legs along with your underwear. 

You once again shake your head, you have only received head once, and that was during a drunk fling at your friends birthday party- and even then you didn’t get to finish. 

Jamie simply chuckled, as if to say he wasn’t surprised. 

“Poor thing,” he frowns, lowering himself to his knees in front of you as he holds your legs open for him, placing kisses on your inner thighs, trailing down to your knees before going back up again, stopping where you needed him the most. “You ever cum when he fucks you?” 

And as if on command, you shook your head again.

“Only when I’m alone.” You confess. 

“Oh yeah, and who do you think about whilst you touch yourself?” He teases, his thumb gently stroking your clit as you fight the urge to close your legs. He looks up at you, stopping all movement as he waits on your answer. 

“You, I think about you, Jamie.” You whine.

“Oh, honey, I know.” He says before you feel his lips on your skin, his tongue circling your clit as his fingers move a little lower, finding your opening and teasing circles around it before gently pushing one in. 

His fingers were a favourite in your fantasies, thinking about what they could do, and he certainly did not disappoint. 

A second finger followed the first and they began curling inside you, searching for a spot Jamie was sure your ex would never have been able to find, and when you let out a choked moan he smirked against you, knowing he’d found it. 

Hif fingers rubbed against this spot inside you as his tongue licked, sucked and nibbled on the sensitive nub, and you were frighteningly close to the edge. You had never reached your high so quickly before, but as his hot breath fanned over your clit you tumbled off the edge, your orgasm washing over you. Your release began to drip down his hand as he continued at the pace he started, and your legs shook as you panted, your fingers pulling at his hair. 

“Jesus,” you whispered breathlessly. 

“Just me, darling.” He smirked, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand before coming back up to place a kiss on your forehead. 

You couldn’t believe the timing as there was a knock at the door to Jamie’s office. The two of you both froze for a moment, before Jamie handed you your clothes and rushed to the door. 

“Mr Bower, I know you usually go home early today but Margaret told me you were here so I was just wondering if I could-” 

“I’m in a meeting right now, Sasha, can you wait just two minutes?” He put on his best grin as he his behind the slightly open door to disguise his hard on. 

“Oh, of course! Sorry to interrupt!” The girl apologised before Jamie shut the door. 

“Sorry, sweetheart, we have to cut it short today. But you’re sure to be back in here later this week, or should I say let's reschedule?” He tried to hide his smirk when your legs wobbled as you got off his desk.

“I’m available all week, unless I decide to see Andy-”

“Honey, if I have to hear about him once more-”

“You’ll get all heated and fuck me senseless over your desk?” You grinned, feeling slightly giddy after the mind blowing orgasm he had given you, “why on earth would I want that?”

[tcwmatchmakingau]

The Sixth Language (part 1)

Pairing: Waxer x Fem!Reader (single parent)

Rating: T 

Wordcount: 2.1k

Warnings and tags: pure fluff; mild language; reader is a foodie

Read the full series: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

“Ohhh, I don’t know, Nyra,” you say hesitantly. “It sounds a little—”

“Amazing?” your best friend interrupts. “Perfect? Once-in-a-lifetime?”

“Risky,” you say as you pull an assortment of veggies out of the conservator and set them on your kitchen counter to start prepping dinner.

“How is it risky?” Nyra demands, her indignant face flickering in the blue glow of your holocom. “I think the clones have proven by now that they are good, honorable men, and even if they weren’t, the agency has strict screening protocols.”

“It’s not that,” you reply. “It’s just that Kaia is old enough now that she is likely to get attached, and what happens if things don’t work out? I don’t want to break her little heart.”

“So don’t introduce her until you feel like things will work out,” Nyra says. You shoot her a grumpy look as you start to chop the vegetables with more force than is strictly necessary.

“What are you cooking?” she asks, momentarily distracted.

“Roasted lamta soup,” you reply, hoping she’ll drop the subject. “Kaia’s favorite.”

“Can I have some?” she asks nonchalantly.

“I’ll bring some for lunch tomorrow, but only if you stop bugging me about the other thing,” you say.

“I thought you were pro-clone,” Nyra says.

“You know I am! I supported CRPA just like you. That doesn’t mean I have time, energy, or inclination to date one,” you reply.

“I don’t get it,” Nyra says. “You could at least test the waters, have a little fun, flirt with a hot trooper or three. Or is Kaia’s heart not the only one you’re worried about?”

“The last thing I need is another child to raise,” you say. “Every guy I've dated since I had Kaia has either been scared off by the fact that I'm a single parent, or has fetishized me as a MILF.”

“I mean, you are a bit of a MILF,” Nyra jokes with an exaggerated wink. “I'd do you.”

“You are too kind,” you say drily, “but Kaia and I are fine just the way we are.”

“I know you are,” she says. “You're a badass and an amazing mom, and Kaia is lucky to have you. But you deserve nice things, sweetie.”

“Do you think I'm going to find nice things at some dating service?” Your tone is sharper than you intend, but Nyra is unfazed.

“It's not a dating service. It's a matchmaking service. As in, they do extensive research and find someone who matches your lifestyle, goals, and priorities.”

“Right, and nobody ever lied so they could get their dick wet,” you retort.

“You should talk to a therapist about your trust issues,” Nyra says. “Believe me when I say the clones don't need a matchmaking service to find a hookup. The ones who are using it are looking for something meaningful. Besides, when have I ever steered you wrong?”

“Many times!” you exclaim. “So, so many times. Remember when we were on Canto Bight, and you told me—”

“An aberration,” Nyra interrupts hastily. “Trust me, babe, this is no gamble. What do you have to lose?”

Which is how you find yourself sitting across a conference table from Tarsi Renda, a representative of the Right to Love Matchmaking Service, with a strained, overly enthusiastic smile pasted on your face. Tarsi is brisk and businesslike, but she seems friendly enough. She asks you an endless litany of questions about yourself, your background, your work, your personal goals, your hobbies, and so on.

“And what is it that you’re looking for in a partner?” she asks.

This is such a terrible idea. Damn you, Nyra!

“Er, I’m not entirely sure,” you confess. “I suppose the most important thing is kindness. Someone patient and gentle.”

“Sense of humor?” she asks.

“Yes, of course,” you say. Has anyone in the galaxy ever said they’d prefer a partner who had no sense of humor? “But not the kind of humor that depends on putting other people down.”

Tarsi scribbles something onto her notepad. “Good with children?”

“Yes,” you say firmly. That part is non-negotiable. 

You haven’t mentioned Kaia. You know you probably should, but your prior experiences make you shy away from sharing too much of yourself, and you’ll be damned if you put your daughter at risk without knowing exactly who you’re going to be matched with.

“Just a few more questions,” she says. “What made you seek out Right to Love’s services?”

My bestie harangued me until I agreed to try it out just to get her to shut up, you think.

“A friend recommended it to me,” you reply. “I’ve had some bad dating experiences, and she thought I might have better luck if I had help screening the—er…”

“Applicants?” Tarsi supplies helpfully.

“That makes it sound a little crass,” you admit.

“That’s all right. After all, we are screening you, too,” Tarsi says with a twinkle in her eyes. “The clones have been through enough as it is; the last thing we want to do is match them with someone who only sees them as playthings.”

“I definitely am not looking for a plaything,” you say with a shudder.

“Have you ever met a clone?” she asks.

“Um, no,” you confess. “I’ve only seen them on the holonews.”

“I see,” she says, scribbling another note, and you wonder if you’ve failed some sort of test. “Right, well, I think I have everything I need. I’ll be in touch with an update within the next few weeks.”

Tarsi stands and extends a hand to shake yours, and it’s clear that you’re being dismissed. You gather your things and thank her for your time, then leave the building, feeling an odd mixture of relief and disappointment. You hadn’t been exactly enthusiastic about the idea of using a matchmaking service, but it still stings to realize that you don’t measure up. You shrug off your self-doubts and head to pick up Kaia from daycare, determined not to let the experience ruin your day.

The next few weeks are incredibly busy at work, and you soon forget all about RTL. And then one afternoon, you get home from work and find a message indicator blinking on your comlink. It’s from Tarsi, and she says she’s found a potential match—when would be a good time for you to meet up?

One late morning a few days later, you wait at the designated meeting place outside one of Coruscant’s sprawling open-air markets. You are more nervous than you should be. It’s just a date, after all. It’s not like you’re signing your life away. Your hands are sweaty, and you smooth them across the fabric of your dress to dry them off. It took forever to figure out what to wear, and you still aren’t entirely convinced that a sundress was the best option. You wanted to wear something cute, but now you wonder if it makes you look like you are trying too hard.

Damn it, this is the worst idea I’ve ever had. Why did I agree to this? I can’t believe I’m paying a babysitter just so I can go on a stupid date. I should go home. I’ll pick up some takeout on the way, and Kaia and I can go to the park. This is so stupid, I should just—

Your spiraling thoughts are interrupted when a deep, smooth voice calls your name. You turn automatically, and your mouth goes dry when you see the speaker.

Holy maker.

You know what the clones look like, thanks to the holonews, but most of the time you’ve seen them, they’ve either been in full armor or too far away to get a good look. RTL Matchmaking had sent you a holo of your match, but it had been a stiff, formal headshot, probably pulled from some official database. You are totally unprepared for the reality of the man standing in front of you.

He is tall and impossibly broad, with rich brown skin and the softest eyes you’ve ever seen. His head is shaved, but there’s a shadow of scruff on his jaw, and a small patch of facial hair below his distractingly full bottom lip.

“Yes?” you ask, snapping your eyes up to meet his gaze and hoping he didn’t notice you ogling his mouth.

“I’m Waxer,” he says with an easy smile that makes his lovely, honey-colored eyes crinkle.

“It’s nice to meet you,” you manage, suddenly very glad that you hadn’t bailed on the date and gone home early.

You shake his hand, which feels weirdly formal, but you’ve never gone on a blind date before, and you aren’t sure about the etiquette. His hands are large and warm, and they engulf yours, making you feel small and delicate. He seamlessly draws your hand to his forearm as the two of you begin walking, and you have to admire the smoothness of his game.

“I’ve never been to one of these markets before,” he observes. “What made you choose this place to meet up?”

You probably shouldn’t tell him that you picked it because there were plenty of witnesses around if he turned out to be a creep, and that it’s nice and crowded and easy to disappear in if you decide to abandon ship.

“It’s one of my favorite places on Coruscant,” you say instead, and it’s not even a lie. “I love being able to see all the different foods from across the galaxy, and there are so many amazing artists who sell their work here, too.”

“Which ones do you like best?” he asks, and that’s all it takes.

The two of you wander through the twisting pathways of the market, eating ice cream and tasting samples of food from all of the different vendors. Waxer is fearless, and he is willing to try anything, including foods even you aren’t brave enough to taste. Some he hates, and some he loves, and he always convinces you to try the ones he likes. As he feeds you a bite of klak, his fingers brush against your lips, warm and soft, and you gasp a little at the sensation as sparks of awareness dance across your skin.

“Good?” he asks.

“It’s delicious,” you say to cover your reaction to him. “You should try a bite.”

The two of you talk and talk, and he tells you about all the different planets he’s visited, while you tell him about growing up on your home planet and what it was like to move to Coruscant for work. The conversation flows effortlessly, and the more you learn about Waxer, the more intrigued you become.

The market is endlessly fascinating to him, and he takes it all in with wide eyes. “We were never allowed in these places during the war. I can’t believe how many kinds of food there are here!”

“A whole galaxy’s worth,” you say. “People come to Coruscant from all over, and they bring their food culture with them. If you like seafood, you should visit Little Mon Cala sometime. There’s a little hole-in-the-wall place that serves the best chowder this side of Trask.”

“Maybe we should go there on our next date,” Waxer says with a charming smile.

“Oh, are we having another?” you ask flirtatiously.

“I would like that very much,” he says, and you’re almost startled by the sincerity in his voice. 

You’re so accustomed to people playing games or hiding their true intentions that Waxer’s straightforwardness throws you off balance.

“I would, too,” you reply, realizing that it’s true.

Before you register how many hours have passed, it’s late afternoon, and you need to get back home before the babysitter’s fee bankrupts you. You and Waxer exchange comm details, and when you say goodbye, he is a perfect gentleman. He doesn’t even try to kiss you, which is fine. Totally fine. Not disappointing at all.

You return home in an excellent mood, and Kaia is delighted to see you. You scoop her up and squeeze her into a tight hug that makes her squeal with excitement, and once the babysitter departs, you put your favorite song and dance around your apartment with your sweet little giggling girl. She babbles endlessly at you as she tells you all about her big day, which apparently involved several arts and crafts activities, as well as a truly epic session of play pretend, judging by the astonishing number of dolls strewn about the apartment.

You tidy up as Kaia eats her dinner, and even though your cynical brain warns you that it’s too early to get excited, you can’t quite suppress the little thrill of hope in your heart whenever you think about Waxer.

[extravaguk]

santa&prada

part of my opposites attract! series. 

ksj / knj / myg / jhs / kth / jjk

pairing: rich!jimin x reader

summary: Yeah, Park Jimin most likely didn't even realize he was being a rude and disrespectful son of a bitch.

wordcount: 5k

genre: smut - angst(? - fluff (? idk u tell me

rated: m 

warnings: a christmas fic in late november, cursing, a huge misunderstanding lmao, i call jimin ‘park jimin’ too many times bc i felt like it, car sex, oral (f recieving), some good ole spanking, (kinda) rough and unprotected sex, a lil of dirty talk, spit kink. thats about it. just an excuse to write jimin fucking you in a car. jimin is not as bad as oc thinks srsly.

The first time you meet Park Jimin is through mutual friends. On a firday night on December, with white, red and green lights decorating the streets of New York, filled with the typical hustle of the masses doing last minute Christmas shopping, the freezing weather impacting your body temperature, cursing yourself for choosing tights, a skirt and heeled boots that are too pretty but too uncomfortable to wear.

You had never considered yourself a particular enthusiast of Christmas festivities. You guess discovering Santa Claus was, actually, your parents before the rest of the kids in your class was one of the many reasons that made you grow up too soon and therefore, not allowing you to fully enjoy the month of December. Or maybe it had nothing to do with Santa, and more to do with your parents deciding to get a divorce a day before Christmas Eve. A traumatic event for seven year old you, but completely forgotten and overcome by twenty-four year old present you.

Growing up each Christmas suffering the consecuences of a shared custody would have probably had a disastrous effect on anybody else, but not you. Although the separation was a tough reality to accept at first, fortunately your parents were always capable of raising you in an environment full of love and affection, just like any other kid. And you prided yourself on having moved on from those circumstances a long time ago (even if your therapist disagreed and blamed many of your behaviors on it. Whatever.)

To put it simply, December was just not the month for you. It was just another month, like the remaining eleven of the year, except Mariah Carey's voice was heard every five minutes everywhere you'd go and people gave each other presents as if it was only during that time of the year when they remembered their loved ones. 

The only thing you could thank Christmas for were the well deserved two weeks of holidays our work allowed until the new year's arrival. Fifteen days of rest, peace and baking those gingerbread cookies that Seokjin died for and that you sincerely denoted as nauseating.

You truly had no idea what exactly you did wrong that night. You don't know if it was something you said, or something you did, but what you did know was that Park Jimin pursued a silent and personal vendetta against you that continued nowadays.

"Here are your disgusting cookies, you filthy animal." it might have been that very first sentence you said when you entered the bar and reunited with your friends that didn't cause a good impression. "Shit, it's cold as fuck. My nipples are harder than my life." or maybe it was your selection of words while you waved every familiar face hello until you stopped to look at the only (pretty. too pretty, as well) one you had never seen before.

"_____, it's Chrismtas! Santa Clause will only bring you a lump of coal if you keep cursing like that!" Lisa laughed while she kissed your cheek and made space for you to sit next to her. "Oh, by the way, this is Jimin. A friend of Namjoon. He's a newbie!"

Park Jimin was stunning, you had no trouble admitting that. You weren't blind, you weren't stupid, and you could go as far as theorize that his dark eyes, his light and always immaculate styled hair, his sharp jawline and those plump lips as red as cherries must have been sculpted by Satan himself.

Fuck, you were even sure you'd be on your knees in front of Park Jimin in an alternative universe begging for his dick inside your mouth. But in the universe where you and the real Park Jimin reside, he would never come near you unless somebody was aiming a gun into his skull.

You're not precisely sure what it was, but a brief exchange of glances and an evasive and sligh shake of hands with Park Jimin was enough to make you feel ashamed and withdrawn for the rest of the night.

If Jimin wasn't even able to drop a polite "Nice to meet you", he sure as hell wasn't able to pretend you even existed.

Even the small talk you had tried to engaged with him about his shiny pair of shoes went terribly wrong.

"Oh, are those Dolce and Gabbana?"

"Dolce and Gabbana are homphobic, racist and sexist, so no" the grimace on his face should've been enough to make you regret speaking to him in the first place , but the snarky voice of his made you want to run away and hide from him until next Christmas.

In reality, you swore you didn't care. Seriously. Other's opinions were never something that could easily bother you or keep you awake at night. You had always turned a deaf ear to the cruel children that made fun of you due to your parent's divorce, you had always ignored the amount of men that never considered you "ladylike" enough (what the fuck did that even mean, anyway? what exactly made a lady and what didn't?), and you had always disregarded any envous comment surrounding you.

So, fuck Park Jimin! You had said to yourself. He's just a well mannered rich boy. Somebody who didn't resemble you in any aspect. A stupid, pretentious, spoiled boy who's had everything he's ever wanted in the palm of his hand, unlike you. Who the fuck cares what Park Jimin thinks? 

But apparently, you did. 

You would have never placed such importance to whatever it was that roamed inside Jimin's head if his appearances in your group of friends hadn't been so recurrent.

Because each time you were forced to see Jimin's face, you were also forced to experience a strange knot of discomfort and humilliation growing in your stomach in his mere presence. It's not like Jimin did anything specific to make you feel that way. He might not even do it on purpose, or his intentions might not be entirely evil. Maybe he simply didn't realize how he always avoided being by your side like the plague, or how his body immediately tensed and he balled his hands into fists everytime you were less than two feet away from him, or how he would look at you from the corner of his eye everytime you decided you speak, almost as if he was waiting for you to shut up to finally let out the air he was containing inside his lungs in relief.

Yeah, Park Jimin most likely didn't even realize he was being a rude and disrespectful son of a bitch.

And with time, you couldn't help but attribute that disdain and hostility that Park Jimin always directed at you to the many undeniable differences that constituted each of you. Park Jimin, with his impeccable and always well ironed Prada shirts, his spotless trousers, jewelry that probably costed more than three of your annual salaries, and always emanating that Givenchy fragance that screamed "wealth!" every rare occasion you could experiment his presence next to you. Exactly two years after that first meeting with Park Jimin, you hadn't been able to avoid reciprocating that feeling of contempt towards him. Not when you were the only victim of his arrogance. Everybody loved Park Jimin, and Park Jimin loved everyone. 

Except you.

Clinging to your glass of Don Pérignon and finishing the rest of the liquid in one go, you try to snap out of your own thoughts, reminding yourself to return to the conversation you're currently having with Taehyung about a pretty waitress that he's met during one of his art exhibitions (or at least that's what you think you caught him say) and forcing yourself by all means to stop observing the friendly and kind smiles that Park Jimin was shooting to those present from across the room and that you will never be able to achieve. 

"_____? Are you even listening to me, darling?" Taehyung's voice is what makes you finally look away from the dumb blond standing on the opposite side of the room, blinking a few times before clearing your throat. 

"Sorry, Tae." letting out a sigh, you try to brush back and put in place the strand of hair that escaped the intricate hairdo you had tried and so miserably failed to do yourself to try to fit in and hopefully impress such environment of preppy and privilaged people (ahem, Park Jimin)  falling on your forehead as best as you can. "Just been really stressed this week and I'm on another planet. You know how I feel about Christmas. I think I need a new flute of . Or five."

Taehyung sends you a look full of empathy and places one of his hands in your shoulder, squeezing lightly in a comforting way. "I'll get you another one. I'll be right back." You quickly interrupt him though, to prevent him from standing up before you.

"No, really. I'll go. I need some fresh air anyways, if you don't mind." And of course Taehyung doesn't mind, so you get on your feet as graceously as your tipsy state allowed you to (who told you it was a good idea to drink three glasses in less than thirty minutes of the extremely expensive champagne Taehyung had brought to the Christmas party he had organized and why did it convince you it would appease your anxiey?) and make your way towards the table where the rest of the bottles are. A table dangerously close to the conversation Jimin and that friend of Lisa (whose name you don't remember) were having.

Both are with their backs turned and, honestly, you take a silent moment to thank God or whatever is up there because the last thing you need right now is yet another awkward interaction with Jimin, so you try as best as you can to refill your glass of champagne to get out of there as soon as possible, praying to make your exit going unnoticed.

But no. Because the stars and the universe loved to align to make you suffer! They love to play with your karma and they love making you damn that one day you didn't help that lady cross the street. They love making you regret buying those plastic straws. They love making you feel guilty for hacking your neighbour's Wifi when you run out of money to pay for yours. Because the moment you try to take a hold of the bottle in your hands, it slips out of your grasp, and you're watching in slow motion how the sparkling berverage ends up spilling all over the extremely expensive (or so you assume. Balenciaga maybe) suit pants Park Jimin decided to wear that night.

Everything is kind of blurry and you can't even hear anything. You can only watch as Park Jimin turns around, lips parted and eyebrows furrowed, until his eyes find you, the bane of his existance and immediately recognizing the culprit of his now drenched piece of clothing. And you can watch as, once again, his gaze turns almost black and narrow lightly as to reprimend you for what you've caused. But of course he doesn't say a word. He has nothing to say. He doesn't even look surprised. No. Because obviously, Park Jimin knew that if there was somebody in this room willing to ruin his night, it would be you, and only you.

"Shit!" you're the first one to break the strained silence, but that only makes Jimin flinch. "Shit, shit, shit. I'm so fucking dumb! J-Jimin, I'm so sorry, let me just go grab a paper tow-"

"Don't." his voice cuts through you. Literally cuts through you. Because it's not often that Park Jimin decides to aim his words at you, but everytime he does it holds the same frigid tone. Like knives trying to painfully stab your being. "Just, don't."

In reality, you don't know a lot of things and you don't know what causes what happens next. You don't know if it's the specific time of the year, you don't know if it's your internal stress, or if it's Park Jimin, his voice, or the fact that he will never like you. But it's instant. They way something compresses your chest, and suddenly your eyes are not glaced by the alcohol but by something wet that threatens to flow. You would never admit to anyone they're tears.

So, shutting your mouth and swallowing the uncomfortable feeling of anguish in your throat, leaving your flute forgotten on the table and grabbing the bottle instead. Without saying a word, your feet start moving up the stairs of the ridiculously enourmous house Taehyung owns towards the first free and empty balcony you can find. Free of people and free of Park Jimin.

Closing the large window behind you, you allow yourself to close your eyes and take a deep breath; the icy temperature outside immediately welcoming you. Although the hairs on your arm stand up and you know you're probably going to catch a cold (because the dress you've chosen for the dinner is not at all appropiate for such winter climate), at least the tension in your body seems to disappear while oxygen keeps that ugly feeling in your heart at bay from continuing to choke you.

With shaky hands, you take a big gulp straight from the champagne bottle. Fuck Park Jimin. No man will ever have the power to make you feel what you're feeling right now.  Fuck Park Jimin. And fuck his beautiful face and his ability to make you tremble and fear looking like an idiot. Fuck his fancy clothes and his perfect manicured hands and his marvelous but frigthening presence. 

Knock knock.

The sound makes you jump back from the window, hand grasping your chest while you turn around, coming face to face with the man in question.  Your first instinct is to ignore him. But that thought is already out of the way when it's him the one who struggles with the window lock before opening and taking a step towards you. You step back as he steps in, raising your head up high and puffing your chest. Because your second instinct is to tell Park Jimin to go fuck himself.

"_____, I would like to-"

"You would like to what?" Jimin looks taken aback at your harshness. Alcohol has always been a weapon of mass destruction in your system, provoking words to flow too easily and without filter out of your mouth, more than they already do when you're sober. Especially when it's mixed with the frustration you've been harboring inside of you for two years. That's why when the words start to come out, they won't stop. "To make me feel like shit one more time? To look at me with that fucking conceited face trying to make me feel like you're better than me? Or would you like to ignore me once again as you always do everytime we're in the same fucking room to make sure I know you hate my mere existance, even if it's just the two of us right now?"

The steam leaving your lips due to the accelerated beat of your heart blurs his face for an instant while he looks at you dumbfounded. The silence and his expression makes you scoff, an acidic smile adorning your face while you take another sip of your drink because even with such a stupid face, he still looks delectable with his white shirt and ruined pants. You turn around, removing a tear that you hadn't even realized had fallen during your speech and that, frankly, you were hoping he hadn't either. You would blame it on the cold, anyway.

This time, a gust of wind running through you from head to toe, making you forget of Park Jimin's presence looming behind you, reminding you it's still December and the fabric of your dress is doing nothing to conceal you from the cold.

But before you can do anything about it and blame yourself for being dumb and not taking your coat with you before deciding to step into balcony, Park Jimin surprises you once again, this time by placing his navy blue blazer over the naked skin of your arms.

Your back straightens when you feel his warm breath caressing the back of your neck, at the same time that a voice you have never heard Park Jimin use with you echoes in your ears.

"I really don't hate you, _____. I..." Jimin wets his lips. His body trembles, but it's not due to lacking his own coat, while his brain hurriedly searches for words eloquent and adequate enough to explain voice his thoughts. "I like you very much, _____."

Scoffing again while you shake your head, you push down with all your inner strenght the incipent fluttering of butterflies in your stomach that Jimin has managed to cause in just a matter of seconds. It's probably the longest sentence you've heard from him in two years, and you don't exactly understand why your body is reacting the way it is. But you're also not willing to give Park Jimin the satisfaction of knowing that. He doesn't deserve it anyway. So with all the courage you can muster, you turn around with your hands clenching.

And even though being at such short distance from Jimin is a bit overwhelming and unexpected for you, the irritation still making your blood bubble is enough to not let a man as handsome as him derail you from your current circumstances.

"Well, fuck you Park Jimin. You certainly have a funny fucking way to sh-" his hands cradling your jaw that pull you closer to him and his lips that silent you roughly, but with surprising care. Only for a moment. A moment in which your body betrays you and make you melt into hir warmth. But his voice, low and sinfully husky, murmurs against your lips. 

"God, that mouth of yours..." he goes back to attacking your own lips, this time more firm than before, snatching a sigh from you. The sound has his tongue asking for permission into your mouth, and with your body betraying you once again, you part your lips to allow him in. It's him who whimpers this time, while one of his hand moving until it reaches the bottle in your hand and letting it drop carelessly onto the floor, ignoring the sound of glass shattering and the future scolding you'll get from Taehyung. Instead, he sneaks that same hand on your waist, pulling your body flush against his, fingers digging onto your skin. "It's been driving me crazy for two years. Two years, _____."

He mumbles between kisses and swipes his tongue against yours, while he stars walking the both of you until your back meets the nearest concrete wall. 

"Two years of having to hear the incessant filthy words that leave your mouth..." his own stop their movements and you catch yourself before begging him to reattaching his lips to yours, enjoying instead the path of wet kisses and bruises his lips traile from your chin to the pulse of your neck "...and trying my best to hide the painful boners I get whenever you're nearby." 

With your eyes shut, your hands are back in motion, ignoring the voice in your head reminding you he's still an asshole and finding their way between Jimin's soft golden strands of hair. He hums in appreciation, sending goosebumps all over your body. "So, s-so why not do anything about it sooner?" you say, suddenly finding it difficult to breathe properly.

You feel Jimin's body tensing before you and he ceases the movement of his lips against your neck. Breaking away, your heart stops, afraid you might have ruined the moment. But Jimin's in search of your eyes, eyebrows very lighlty raised, the intensity of his gaze pinning you in place. You don't know for how long you stare at each other until Jimin comes out of the trance, eyes descending over your flushed cheeks, the very same color as your lips and the soft flesh of your neck until they reach your cleavage, the glimmering fabric encasing your breasts, taunting him the same way they had been doing all night long.

"You scare me so much..." and then, one of his hands repeats the same journey his eyes just did, until he touches your shoulder, right under his own blazer. "Everytime I look at you, all I can think of why the hell a girl as real as you like you would even glance my way." he slides the strap of your dress slowly tentatively, just enough for you to stop his advances if you chose so. You don't. "You're smart in ways I could never compare, so funny it makes me jealous, and so pretty it leaves me speechless. You're...You're everything I'm not."

His voice resonates in the atmosphere, and you would love to blame it on the cold again for how your body has reacted, but your body heat has increased so much since he started kissing you that it would be stupid not to admit that it's just the effect that Park Jimin has on you tonight. You're sure he would've had the same effect if it had happened before.

Your now uncovered breast doesn't even has to suffer the consequences of the icy wind, because one of Jimin's arms quickly comes around you to hold your body against his, lifting you ever so slighty until your erect nipple is at the same level as his mouth and his lips are enveloping it in their warmth. You gasp his name, and that encourages his teeth to tug softly before his tongue stars moving in circes. 

"My God, you're so perfect." Your head spins while you hold onto his shoulders as tight as you can, the undeniable heat roaming all over your form, hips involuntarily rutting his incipent erection poking your abdomen. "Been thinking about this since that night we first met." Looking for relief, Jimin mirrors your movements without ceasing the administrations on your chest, as one of his hands lifts one of your thighs to wrap around his waist, closing the short gap remaining between the both of you. 

"Ohmygod! F-fuck, Jimin," trying to form coherent phrases is almost impossible, not with Jimin finding a slow and tortuous rythm with his hips, his clothed cock rubbing against your core. Something shifts in the air, because Jimin stops abusing your nipple with a loud pop, and shuts you up by pressing his mouth onto yours in an urgent, dirty and desperate kiss. You could almost hear him swearing, while his hand keeps your jaw in place.

"S-stop talking like that, ______." his voice, inaudible, and his face now hiding in the crook of your neck, the thrusting of his hips speeding up, more and more frantic this time. The hand not holding your thigh against his hipbone reveals your other breast, hand covering it and giving it a light squeeze before tugging at your unattended nipple between his forefinger and his thumb while his tongue and teeth mark the skin on your neck. 

"Hell, I've been dying to stuff your mouth with my cock to prevent you from such foul language," the soft whimpers leacving your mouth coax him into taking the hem of your dress and bunching the fabric until his fingers easily find the place in your body calling to him the most through the lace.  It's immediate, how his fingers dampen at the first touch, surprising the both of you, and how your body jolts and an embarrassing sob escapes your throat. "How-how are you this wet? Holy hell, I could just slide right in..."

And as he says that, one of his fingers pull aside the fabric of your underwear and glide into you, so easy. You insides burning while he fingers you, another finger being added with his thumb rubbing circles on your nub. And fuck, you're not sure if you're just too horny and Park Jimin is a magician with his hands, or maybe it's the way he keeps mouthing at your chest and whispering how soaked you are, but you don't think you've ever been so close to cumming in such a short period of time.

"W-whats stopping you?" you manage with a voice that doesn't even resembles yours, but before your hands can even make work of the zipper of his trousers, he pulls his finger out from your center, causing you to whine in protest.

Jimin licks his lips, eyebrows framing the dark expression that his eyes ooze. Although the desire in his eyes is more than evident, it is also evident the faint hesitation in them. Because Park Jimin doesn't do things this way. Park Jimin was raised in a world of correct manners and conservationism. A world that has taught him when and how to act. And as badly as he is dying to fuck you against the wall of Taehyung's ridiculously inmense house, he also wants to do the right thing. 

"Let me take you on a date." 

Park Jimin has been spoiled his whole life. Being born in a well-off family has always provided him of everything he had ever wanted and more. From the innecessary number of toys Santa Claus left under his Christmas tree every year since he was a baby, to his fisrt extravagant sports car at the age of eighteen. Park Jimin has never been a greedy or needy man. How could he, when he's had everything he's ever wished in the palm of his hands. He has never missed anything in his entire life. Hasn't missed a roof over his head, warm food on his plate or brand new designers clothes each week. 

It has taken him two years to control himself. He still remembers that night he first met you, just like he remembers every single time you both had coincided in the same place at the same time. He remembered your scent, had memorized your figure over your pieces of clothing and had tried as best as he could to keep a distance from you because he knew you would never give him the time of day. How could you? You probably despised everything he was because he was definitely nothing like you, and that thought intimidated the fuck out of him. He was a mess everytime you wear nearby. Never relied on his voice because he knew he would stutter if you ever spoke to him, could never trust his eyes because if he ever looked at you he was afraid he wouldn't be able to look away. 

And everytime you spoke, shit, that voice of yours always cursing here and there left him wondering how would you sound in a different setting and if you would still be that badmouthed. More specifically, between his sheets. So he did everything he could to minimize your interactions as much as possible. He just never thought he would come across as such a jerk. It was never his intention to hurt you, and seeing you cry that night (although you denied you did, over and over again) seriously made him realize he wanted to make things right. 

He was trying really, really hard to keep it in his pants, to be the same well composed and controled Park Jimin he had mastered himself to be. 

But that damn dress.

After seeing that little black dress hugging your figure when you started taking off your coat at the restaurant, the brief flash of thigh tights that you accidentaly (or not so accidentally) had blessed him with by crossing a leg over the other, that exposed collarbone calling his name and those heeled sandals with straps wrapping around your ankles, reminding him of the snake tempting Eve, Park Jimin was sure he needed to dig into that apple more than anything he has ever needed before.

That's why he surprises you right after you both finish the second course meal by telling the waitress you won't be having desert, at which you look at him somewhat indignant. But the look he shoots you is enough to make you understand if somebody was going to have desert tonight, it would be him. In his Mercedes. 

"I'm gonna-" you gasp, fingers tugging at the soft strands of his now ruined blond hair, his head between your thighs and your legs thrown over his shoulders. His hands have a grip of the meaty flesh of your ass, holding you firmly againt his mouth as it works wonders on your clit. You're sure it hasn't even been ten minutes since Jimin had opened your legs in the backseat of his car, not even bothering to take your underwear off, simply moving the fabric aside before diving in, and you already feel yourself on the edge of an orgasm.

"I know." voice vibrating right into your core, he slows down his administrations, tongue carefully and delicately lapping at your folds while he enjoys the feeling of your fingers loosening their grip and fondly brushing his hair back. You meet his eyes as he pushes a finger inside your core and your whole body twists in agony. 

"N-no!" 

Jimin stops immediately, lifting his head and focusing his concerned eyes on you. He's about to ask you if he's done anything wrong, but you're fast to roughly pull him up by his hair until his face is leveled with yours. You answer him by kissing him and he returns the kiss with the same eagerness, and now it's your hands that are looking for his cock, palming him through his pants.

"Your dick. Inside. Right Now." you punctuate each phrase with a kiss and he only stops kissing you to pout.

"But I wanted you to cum on my tongue." but still, he's putty in your hands when you undo the botton and the zipper. "Wouldn't you rather me fucking you in my bed, where we're more comfortable?" you notice the slight quivering of his voice when you slide his trousers and boxers down, just enough to pull him out. 

"You can eat me and fuck me as many times as you want tonight, tomorrow and whenever you'd like, but right now..." none of you contain the moan in unision that leaves each of your mouths when just the head of his lenght comes in contact with your entrance. "I really can't wait anymore." brushing your lips over his, you lower your voice. "Wanna get on my hands and knees for you."

Park Jimin has tried to do things the right and appropiate way throughout all his life. He's been a professional from a very young age on how to be in charge of his emotions, his desires and his impulses. Always well mannered and well composed. 

But it's in this moment that Jimin comes to the realization that the only thing that has ever made him lose his mind and self control, is you. Seeing you like this, ass up, grinding your drenched and still thong clad cunt all over his precum dripping lenght, he can't control the way his hand bunches the fabrick of that damn dress over your waist, then flies to your right cheek, a sharp sound of skin filling the air, tearing a gasp from your throat.

"God, I'm-I'm sorry. Couldn't help mys-"

"Do it again."

And he does, the palm of his hand now leaving a reddenning print on your flesh, making you jolt back involuntarily, aligning yourself to the head of his cock and like he had hoped, he slides right in. Not all the way, because Jimin is sure he would cream inside you too soon and he wouldn't be able to forgive himself if he did. He wets his lips, clenching his jaw and dropping his palm one more time, hand more steady and purposeful. 

"You like it rough?" voice hoarse and a hand beside your head holding himself, your back to his chest, twitching beneath him as he soothes the sting with his free one. 

"I like you rough." turning your head slowly to peer at him from the corner of your eye, your hips moving on their own accord trying to take him deeper. Your head is suddenly pulled back harshly, Jimin's fingers tangling in your hair as his own hips close the remaining gap between your bodys in an abrupt thurst. You squeal, Jimin's cock finally filling you up to the hilt just like you wanted him to be, the pleasure making your arms wobble and finding it harder to mantain your balance. 

Jimin's breath fawns over your ear, his tongue darting out to suck on your skin sending chills down your spine. "You're such a dream." he groans, torturously sliding out of your core that's gripping around his shaft for dear life. A whine of protest escapes your lips and he tightens the hold on your hair in response, diving right back in. You fall forward, your arms' strenght betraying you as his thrusts find a new rhythm. With your eyes closed shut, you try to muffle the sound of your voice with the back of your hand as Jimin's lips place soft kisses to your exposed shoulder.

"Don't be quiet." he stands straight, the pull on your hair arching your back in such a enticing way it was Jimin look away for a second, cock buried inside of you and his hips faltering. "Been dying to have you like this for so long."

Another clap of his hand against your right cheek, and a particular stroke of his dick that has you mewling as your climax approached again. "S-so good, Jimin. Oh my god."

"You're gonna cum for me?" his fingertips leave bruises on your skin and the windows of his Mercedes are foggy, just like your mind. You can't concentrate on anything that's not Jimin's cock sliding in and out and how much you wished this had happened way sooner. "Gonna cum for me like a good slut?"

Park Jimin always takes his time. Always does things nice and slow to assure the best outcome possible. 

But he can't contain the acceleration of his hips against yours as your walls clench impossibly tight around his cock, your orgasm finally taking over . Can't contain himself from falling forward again, hand twisting your head in his direction and his mouth searching for yours in a fiery and messy kiss. And he most definitely can't barely contain himself from cumming when your you ask him to spit in your mouth. 

"You're gonna kill me." he breathes, removing himself off you and quickly maneuvering you on your back, his dick finding its way back inside you. Picking up right where he left off, skin slapping against skin in an obscene melody, he collects a considerate amount of saliva in his mouth before dropping it into your welcoming tongue, watching you swallow with a smile he hopes he'll be the only one to see in the future. 

And that's what has the last bit of his self restraint slipping from his fingers. He somehow manages to rip the top of your dress down, fabric tearing until your tits are free and his mouth is attacking your nipples, white strings of his release panting your walls, some of it them oozing out that he fucks back right into you. 

It's between ragged breaths, kisses and tender carresses that Jimin promises you more dates in the future and new dresses that he can't promise not to savage apart again.

[gloryofluv]

Order Up! (Coffee Shop AU) Chapter 10

Oh, Alex, you always find commonality in kindred spirits! The broken tend to look for each other, don't they? (picture brought you by my awesome brain fucking around with filter on a stock photo)

Previous Chapter

Alex was standing outside on her break on the phone and nearly growling as she stood by her car. Of all the frustrating, stupid fucking things. She rolled her neck. This was truly ridiculous. Routine. That’s all she wanted. Applicable routine!

The call came off hold. “Miss, I just spoke to the doctor. She said unless you schedule an appointment, we can’t refill your medication.”

“What do you mean? I’ve been taking these for years?” Alex snapped and shifted her hips. “Why? This is the first time I’ve had to come in. She knows how I feel about doctor’s offices. We’ve always done tele appointments when it’s needed.”

“Miss, I’m sorry, but you haven’t had a physical in several years, and our policies are changing. We have to be sure everything is working together well. I’m sure you’ve received your email or letter,” the receptionist told her.

“Ok, but I’m out of it this weekend. I have severe ADHD. It’s in my file. Can’t she fill it for just the weekend? I have tons of things to do, and I doubt you make evening appointments,” Alex breathed and rolled her neck. This wasn’t what she liked. She definitely didn’t like someone poking at her and saying what was wrong with her.

“We have an appointment available at three tomorrow if that’s late enough,” the receptionist declared.

“Do you have a Friday morning available?” Alex questioned while tightening her jaw.

“No, we have a two o’clock on Friday,” She responded.

“Okay, do you have a morning appointment tomorrow?” she asked while running her fingers on her driver’s door. Alex was bouncing on her feet and swishing her hips. She despised this.

“The earliest we have is ten o’clock.”

Alex breathed and rocked her head. “That works. Does she need me to fast so we can do blood work?”

“Yes, that would be best. She’ll want to do a full workup. We can schedule a pap at the time if you like.”

Alex grimaced and breathed. “Yes, fine. Whatever it takes not to have to come in for a while.”

“I understand completely, Miss. I don’t know anyone who likes clinical visits,” the receptionist giggled.

Alex smiled and rocked her head. “Okay, tomorrow at ten. Got it. Should I bring in my other medication?”

“Ah, yes, please. It will make the visit swifter.”

“Thank you so much. I apologize for my frustration,” Alex murmured.

“Of course, we shall see you tomorrow.”

Alex hung up and rolled her neck again. “I hate this. Ridiculous unneeded shit.”

“I never liked doctor visits myself.”

Alex pivoted and blushed. Diavolo was standing there smoking some sort of vaporizer. “Hello, Diavolo. How are you today?”

Daddy Diavolo was in a pinstripe suit and looking sharp. What? Dammit, Jordan and his wicked nicknames for people. Alex licked her lips and ran her thumb over her fingernails.

He puffed and smiled while the cloud left his lips. “I’m doing pretty well. Barbatos went to snag us drinks while we were in the area. Business prattle irritates me occasionally. I needed to see a friendly face.”

Alex relaxed against her car and smiled. “That’s great that you at least are getting a caffeine bump. I have a few more minutes on my break if you want to chat.”

He tilted his head and shifted on his frame. “Lucifer told me you were going to rent a room from him. I think that’s fabulous.”

The pillow talk between them must be oddly stiff. Oh, god. What the fuck was wrong with her today. Alex had to shake off the image and rubbed the side of her neck. “Yes, it makes sense. I’m going to buy Jordan’s family home for them. I’ll find someplace to rent after the sale. It’s all in the works. Thank you for the stellar recommendation for the agent.”

Diavolo took the device to his mouth as he smiled and the vapor poured from his nose. “You’re welcome, but it’s quite deserving. That’s quite intelligent and loyal. Oh, what did the ocean say to the beach?”

Alex’s smile grew. “What did it say?”

“Nothing,” Diavolo snorted and then smiled. “It just waved,” he chuckled and waved his free hand before sliding it in his pocket.

Alex giggled and shook her head. “That’s ridiculously good.”

Diavolo laughed and nodded. “I thought so too! How do you feel about traveling?”

Alex shrugged her shoulders. “I always wanted to, but I didn’t get the chance when my parents died.”

“I, unfortunately, can’t say the same,” Diavolo shook his head. “When my father died, I visited three different countries to meet the regional operators in a week. I didn’t go very many places when I was younger because he was always working or traveling for business. However, I understand his plight now. Sometimes I just want to be home.”

“I’m sorry about your father,” Alex nodded.

Diavolo smirked and stepped toward her. “I know how you feel about your medication. It’s funny how one little pill eases the worst symptoms, huh? Science. Who would have thought?” he laughed.

“Yeah,” Alex puffed and shook her head. “I’d be more of a mess without it. I think I do alright now, though my doctor keeps telling me I need to see a therapist.”

He gestured to her. “Do you suffer from insomnia as well? What about stimming?”

Alex laughed and nodded. “I often play with my apron at work. At home, I mess with my hair more. I have plenty of object blindness, so that kind of helps living with all my parents’ things.”

“Masking?” Diavolo questioned.

Alex rocked her head. “All the time. Jordan calls it my alter ego. He thinks it’s some sort of superpower that I perfected with his encouragement.”

“I have a selection of 8D music I’ll send you for focus,” Diavolo nodded. “If you have any recommendations, I’m open to seeing. I’m always trying to explore new avenues.”

“That’s the dopamine search,” Alex laughed and nodded.

Diavolo let out a stream of laughter and rocked his head. “Yes, it certainly is, isn’t it, Alex.”

Alex checked her phone and breathed. “I have to go back inside.”

Diavolo gasped and held up his finger. “Here, I’ve been meaning to give this to you.” He dug in his breast pocket and handed her a small pin of a red devil smirking. “I’ve noticed you wear them on your hat, and I quite like that. My contribution,” Diavolo nodded.

She beamed and pressed her fist to her chest as she held it. “Thank you, Diavolo.”

“I will be texting you later when we’ll schedule our little date for your dress if that’s alright. If you want, I can email you instead of for formality,” He said while tilting his head.

“Text is fine. I just hate talking on the phone,” Alex giggled.

“Me too,” Diavolo groaned and grinned.

Alex laughed and shrugged. “I suppose we all have our mountains to climb.”

“Indeed. Enjoy the rest of your day, Alex. You added a bit of pep in my step.”

“Same, thank you,” she beamed and bowed her head before walking toward the cafe.

Well, you learn something every day. Diavolo, CEO and superpower in the world had ADHD? Well, that explains the goofy persona. That actually made Alex feel ten times better. She passed Barbatos and waved. He nodded at her with a small smile, and she skipped behind the counter.

Jordan arched his eyebrow as she snatched up her apron. “What did Daddy want today?”

Alex glanced out at him, taking another puff before meeting Barbatos in the parking lot with a bouncy stride. “To chat,” she settled with as she washed her hand at the sink.

“Interesting,” Jordan hummed.

Alex pocketed the pin and nodded. “Completely.”

“And did Daddy give you something special?” Jordan teased with an arched eyebrow.

“Can you stop with this? It’s really screwing me up, J,” Alex puffed with red cheeks. “I swear it. I’m going to accidentally call him that, and then I’ll be fired for sure.”

“Or taken to dinner,” Jordan laughed and shook his head. “Okay, okay, I’ll stop, for now. When are you moving in with the crazy terrors of the seven plagues?”

“This weekend,” Alex expressed as she went to the pastry case and began organizing what was in there with tongs. “Hey, Jordan, I have a weird question.”

“Shoot, babe,” he said while changing out the coffee and brewing a fresh batch.

“Do you think it’s weird for me not to date?”

“Yes, hun, I do, but don’t listen to Asmo. He’s surface energy until you get to know him. Any progress with Mr. Black Coffee?” Jordan asked.

Alex exhaled and shook her head. “I recently found out he’s unavailable.”

“Oh, that is a pity,” Jordan scrunched his nose. “I was really rooting for that. He seemed so into you.”

She shrugged her shoulders and smiled over at him. “I wasn’t that invested in it.”

“How about Sugar-free Vanilla?” Jordan asked with an arched eyebrow.

“I shouldn’t engage in any sort of drinks that I’m going to be in proximity to anyway,” Alex voiced as she set out more scones in the case.

“I suppose,” Jordan laughed as he leaned on the counter. “Oh, looky here. Here comes trouble . Sin never looked so tasty. If that boy were ever into experimenting, I’d be there in a hot second for that meal.”

Alex glanced at the door to see Beelzebub climb out of his car and pull on his shirt while Belphegor and Mammon soon joined. They all threw on shirts, and Alex had to scowl at that. What the hell did they do that they were shirtless?

The trio walked into the cafe, sweat still beading on their faces. Alex moved to her register and beamed. “Hey, boys. What have you been up to?”

Beel grinned as he wiped his forehead with his arm. “Alex, we have something exciting to tell you.”

“Yeah, but let me!” Mammon puffed and rolled his neck. “Ya, see, it was my idea, so I get to tell ya how great I am!”

“Okay, I’m listening,” Alex nodded.

“We broke into your house and cleaned out your backyard,” Belphegor snorted.

Mammon growled and shoved him. “I wanted to tell her. Why ya gotta be such a dick?”

“Oops,” Belphie smirked.

“But we found something,” Beel added.

“Yeah, we did,” Mammon snapped. “I did. I found it.”

“And then you tried to pocket it for money,” Belphie rolled his eyes.

“I did not!” Mammon huffed.

“Okay, guys, calm down. What did you find as you did your weird B&E? I’m not going to even go into how many people would be asking for you to break in and do the same.” Alex laughed as she shifted on her feet.

Beel dug in his jeans and produced a necklace with wings in the shape of a heart and a topaz. It was delicate, small, and a little dirty. “Oh!” Alex gasped. “That was my grandma’s from when she was little. Where was it?”

“In a tin box in the shed. It looks like someone put it in there to do yard work,” Belphie shrugged.

Beel offered it to Alex, and she beamed. “Thanks, you guys. My mom used to garden and must have set it in there when she had to turn the soil.”

“So, uh, that’s like really important,” Mammon hummed as he fixed his glasses. “Which means we did ya good.”

“Yes,” Alex beamed and placed the necklace in her pants pocket.

“So, we’re gonna wait for you,” Mammon smirked as he crossed his arms over his chest in a lean.

She shrugged and leaned on the POS screen. “How about all of you get a refreshing drink, and I’ll be done in just over an hour.”

They all were nodding, and she imputed their orders. She enjoyed their little bickering back and forth before they sat down with food and drinks. Jordan approached and leaned on her shoulder. “Doesn’t hurt to have weird friends, does it?” He whispered.

“No, I’m starting to see that,” she beamed as she glanced at him.

“Babe, I’ll never leave you, but I just want you to be loved, okay? You deserve it. I did plenty of checking when I hung out with Leviathan. They’re good guys.”

“I see that,” she voiced. “Thank you for being my misfit brother, Jordan.”

“Of course, Alex. You’re my little sister. Always,” He chuckled and kissed her hat before walking back over to the espresso machines.

@rsmrymnt-tea@otome-scribbles

[carbrakes-and-stakes]

Reeducation & restraint

TIMING: A couple days ago LOCATION : White Crest General Hospital PARTIES : @notsoharsh​ & @carbrakes-and-stakes​ SUMMARY : Therapy, patience and suspicion.

Harsh cast another glance over the chart in his hands, frowning. He didn’t usually have much to do with physical therapy, but it was darker out earlier now and it never hurt to pick up a couple extra shifts where he could. It was just his job to get them in and out, no big deal. This one gave him pause though. Loss of limb wasn’t exactly anything new in White Crest, Harsh had seen his fair share of people in all parts of that process. What was weird were the doctor’s notes. Five weeks in, but healing like it had been months. That wasn’t totally out of the ordinary either. Well, in some terms. Plenty of things healed a lot quicker than run of the mill humans, enough that the staff at WC General had stopped worrying about it. Harsh couldn’t exactly fault them for that. With all the batshit things going on, complaining about people getting better too quickly would’ve been insane. Still, it made Harsh hesitate outside the room for a minute. There was no reason to be too concerned. He had helped plenty of patients who got better a little faster than they should have. This would be fine. Sticking his easy smile into place, he lightly knocked on the door before letting himself in. “Hey there, Mr. Babineaux. You ready to head home? Anything I can do for you before I get you out of here?”

A puzzled look on his face, Alain looked at the door. There was a vampire on the other side of that door, this much he knew. If he claimed that he was done hunting, his distaste for the species was not gone, and his resting frown intensified as the door opened. His eyes caught the name on the tag, and he replied with a stiff upper-lip : “I think I will be fine,” his hand reached for the back of his chair as he pulled himself up. Standing on his leg, the man gave the hospital worker a concerned look, wondering if he would just approach anyway. Reaching for his crutches, Alain noticed only then that his therapist had left them on the other side of the room. Of course. Biting on his cheek, he glanced from the crutches to the other man, then back at the crutches. “Would you mind?” If he was not thrilled about accepting his help, hopping around like a spring was out of the question too.

Apparently having just the one leg wasn’t going to keep this guy down. Harsh could respect that. He wasn’t sure if he should trust it though. If anyone was going to lose a limb and keep on swinging it would be some kind of hunter. Then again, there were plenty of corners of the supernatural world he had never even dipped a toe into. This could be nothing. “Huh?” He followed Alain’s glance and nodded. “Yeah, of course.” He crossed the room and grabbed the crutches. “Do you want me to wheel you out of here? I can grab a chair, it’s a lot faster,” he said, offering Alain the crutches. Those probably couldn’t be used as a stake… probably. “I don’t think I’ve seen you around much before. I’ll probably be helping you for the next couple weeks, we just switched shifts around. I’m Harsh, by the way. I like to try to get to know my patients.” Maybe if he could keep up the friendly smile, this would be fine. He was probably already overthinking things. This was fine.

The prospect of having to accept the vampire's help did not enchant Alain, but the man was so tired that he had decided, at least for this morning, to put aside his hatred for them and to let the vampire help him. He suspected, of course, that Harsh was only working here for the hospital's vital resource, weak people, and more conveniently, a pocket supply of blood. The hunter was pragmatic, and he actually saw little harm in vampires feeding like this. A person at the end of their life, or blood in their bags, would still do less harm, and would be a much less risky way of sustaining themselves. However, putting aside his hatred didn't mean all animosity was gone, and it was no wonder his shoulders seemed to tense as the vampire approached with crutches in hand. He could probably stab him with those, he told himself. The hunter found himself confused when he began to ask himself the following question: what had this vampire done to deserve such a brutal and arbitrary death. If Alain often asked himself this question when he was alone, this was the first time he had asked himself this in the presence of these individuals whom he had considered since his childhood as monsters, shadows in the night, and whose sole purpose (and these were again traces of the teachings received as a child) was to terrorize men, and destroy lives. “I lost my leg not long ago,” though his voice sounded harsh and dry, the expression on his face seemed a little more relaxed, as he watched the other man act in a respectable manner. “The next couple weeks,” he repeated, and you could read in his face that the revelation puzzled him, as if he doubted his ability to endure such promiscuity in the long run. Maybe this was an opportunity that life gave him, to learn to bear with these individuals? The hunter, confused, glanced away from the vampire for a few seconds. This was evidence that he didn’t feel in danger, although that didn’t last long. “Harsh, okay. You might as well call me Alain then. I don’t think I’ll stand being called Mr. Babineaux for too long,” being reminded that he was his father's son was not something he enjoyed, and although he could rarely avoid it, if he could, he made it known. The hunter wondered about confessing who he was, but since he also wanted to know if he could endure a vampire for the long haul, he kept that to himself, hoping it wouldn't come back to hit him in the face in the weeks to come. .

There wasn’t anyone around. This guy was down a leg. The doctor wasn’t supposed to come back to check in on him. How hard would it be to snap his neck and get him in a body bag? Harsh had done more with less. But no. There were still half a dozen happy little hearts beating away just down the hall. If Alain screamed, they would come running. And what if he wasn’t a hunter? What if he was just some poor asshole who lost his leg? The last thing Harsh needed was that kind of heat on him. No. No murdering. This would be fine. It was fine. Everything was fine. Not having to breathe came in handy when it came to hiding his rising nerves. “Ah, yeah, I sorta noticed that,” he said, with a light little laugh. “How are you adjusting? I know that kind of thing can’t be easy.” That at least was true. He had seen plenty of patients and plenty of others before White Crest who had lost bits of themselves. “Alain, got it. Nice to meet you. So do you want me to grab a chair? Or anything else to help get you out of here?”

“You asked why you never saw me before,” the hunter deadpanned, little amused by this little exercise in humor. The last thing he felt capable of doing, right now, was sharing jokes with this kind of people. The man hadn't done anything wrong except that he wasn't really a human being. Alain wondered how old the vampire was, or whether he had been living here for a long time. He always had a lot of questions when he met a vampire, but more often than not, he never really had the opportunity to ask them, and more often than not, it was the hunter’s fault that he couldn’t ask those. “Well, things are not easy, no,” he didn’t have to lie to this guy. Alain always tried to preserve people, and figured that they simply could not care for him, but he was not going to be so careful here. “I had to stop work ever since it happened, and that has not been fun. My house is in the middle of nowhere so I had to move out. The realtor was pretty nice though, I think I made a friend there. That’s about the only positive bit though,” he stopped in his tracks. He rarely was so talkative, but it did not really matter to him now. It just felt off. “I think the crutches will be enough,” glancing over at the door, he pursed his lips. “Though I could use help getting out of this maze,” he agreed.

Not the joking type, okay, good to know. But the guy wasn’t flipping out or trying to go for a pencil to stake him with. Maybe he was alright. Maybe he wasn’t. This shit was so hard to tell. At least when a slayer was coming at him, Harsh knew what he was dealing with and how to respond. This not knowing, playing nice, this was the stuff that got under his skin. He nodded sympathetically. “I’ll bet. That sucks, man. Is your new place more accessible? People really just don’t consider this kind of stuff when they’re building property. Where did you work? If you don’t mind me asking.” That was all pretty rough, slayer or otherwise. It was easy enough to pretend to care about. “Yeah, no problem. You wanna stop by the cafeteria on your way out? I think they’re making the good cake today,” he said as he moved to the door, holding it open for Alain before falling into step. He kept his pace even. As funny as it would be, making a guy on crutches rush to keep up with him would probably qualify as a dick move. “Is someone picking you up or are you driving yourself?”

“It is much better,” and yet, the hunter's eyes fell to the ground as he thought of his old home. Lost in thought, he stared in that direction for a few seconds. The vampire's question pulled him out of that state of inner contemplation, and if he normally would have avoided saying too much about his personal life, everything was already on his medical record. “I own the garage on the way out of town,” which reminded him that he would also have to sell his car for something he could drive : which meant switching to automatic. “I should be able to keep working. I’m doing the accounts these days. They’ve never been so tidy,” his eyebrows raised. If this was one thing he could have never imagined, it was his accounts ever being up to date. He had always hated paperwork and administrative work, and he still hated that, but this was a weight off his back. “The good cake ? I’m scared to ask,” he looked over at the other man and shook his head. “I’m not getting near any hospital food by choice, I had to eat only that for weeks,” Alain had a thing for exaggeration, but in this particular case, he was fair. “Well I was thinking of walking back home. I don’t live far from here now. About fifteen minutes away, I think,” walking with crutches might have not been fun, but he missed being outdoor, and he insisted on walking whenever he could.

That didn’t sound a whole lot better. Maybe Harsh was being too nosy, but he was supposed to be chatty and friendly with the patients. People never suspected the upbeat friendly guy was the one stealing blood. “Well that’s something. I know it can be hard to find brightsides with this kind of injury, but it’s good to keep looking anyway.” This guy didn’t seem like he wanted bullshit platitudes or assurances that everything was going to be perfectly fine. Good. Harsh was always garbage with those. Laughing, he shook his head a little. “The bad cake isn’t that bad, it’s just that the good stuff always goes so fast. The cooks here… I mean, they try their best, y’know? But it’s not exactly gourmet, which I’m sure you noticed. So when they make something good, I always try to grab extra.” The surprise on Harsh’s face wasn’t the least bit fake. Walking that long on crutches sounded like a massive pain. “Are you sure, man? I can see if someone can drive you or call you a ride or something, it’s no problem. Your charts are looking good, but you still shouldn’t strain yourself.” He frowned as they reached the doors, hesitating with one hand on the bar. “I don’t like letting you go on your own, man. It’s already dark out. I’ve seen way too many animal attacks in this place to feel good about sending you out there.”

“It’s something. I just want to keep moving now. I feel like shit happens to me whenever I stop, I gotta keep doing,” it was like that old Buster Keaton movie, where the hero ended up in trouble whenever he took some time to rest. Alain smiled at the memory of that film, his eyes dropped to the floor and he took a moment to look at his foot. He tried to avoid doing that, but having decided to keep going meant facing your problems. “You just cannot convince me of that. I … no,” he shook his head, determined to stay upright in his boots. “Yeah, I’m quite resilient,” he paused. “Quite stubborn too, although I’m working on it,” he added with a chuckle. As uncommon as his request was, the hunter missed walking for hours, and a few minutes wouldn’t hurt him, would they ? He couldn’t reveal that he could see in the dark, or that he didn’t fear many animals out there aside from bugbears. The thought of running across another one terrified him, but he doubted they were roaming freely around the streets of White Crest. “I’ll be fine, I was a zookeeper back in the days,” not a lie, although it was not usually something he shared. Still Alain doubted that the vampire would make the connection.

“I get that. Although, I kind of feel like weird awful shit just happens in this town to everyone, whether you’re moving or not.” But Harsh could understand that. He had never taken well to being in any one place for too long. It all got stifling after a while. White Crest kept things interesting at least, but even it would grow stale eventually. “Hey, being stubborn isn’t always a bad thing. Sometimes you need to keep going even if people tell you to stop.” That seemed decent enough advice for a patient. Though… if this guy was of the staking variety, that might not be the best thing to tell him. Harsh blinked, eyebrows rising. “A zookeeper? Where did you work? I didn’t think White Crest had a zoo.”

“That's not wrong,” the thought of leaving White Crest had crossed his mind often, but he had never been able to leave for very long. A few years ago, he left for Europe. He had been there for a little over a month. Alain told himself he would go there if he ever retired. And now that he had retired, at least from a very important part of his life, he wondered if it wasn't worth thinking about it again, a little more seriously. “I think everyone in this town has had, at least once, the urge to move out of here, including me,” the vampire's comment made him smile. He would once have had a carnivorous smile, but the one on his face was much friendlier, despite the negative assumptions he had. “I never said I worked in White Crest then,” he gave the guy a pat on the shoulder. This had to be the kindest gesture he’d ever given such a creature, and for a second, the hunter had the most puzzled look on his face, as if he expected his hand to catch fire, or the vampire to lash out. Nothing happened, however, so instead he smiled and shook his head. “I have quite a few stories to tell, although I’m not willing to share those yet.”

“You’re probably not wrong. I would be kind of concerned if there was anyone living here who hadn’t thought about leaving at least once.” The thought had crossed Harsh’s mind a number of times. It wasn’t the worst place to be a vampire, but with hunters… or maybe hunters all over, it wasn’t the best either. He blinked, the pat to his shoulder catching him by surprise. Maybe this guy was just normal after all. Or probably not a slayer at the very least. Harsh smiled easily in return. “Yeah? I’ll bet you do. Well, if you ever feel like sharing, I’m here a lot. I always like hearing a good story. If you’ve got any from that zoo, I’d love to hear them. Man, I can’t remember the last time I went to a real zoo.” He cast another glance outside, smile slipping a little. “Are you sure you don’t want help getting home? I could see if someone could cover for me for a bit and walk you there. I don’t like sending you out there alone.”

“Don’t trust anyone who claims that they don’t have a love-hate relationship with the town,” looking as a couple walked past them to go inside, Alain wondered just how many people came to the hospital everyday, and how many would have not ended up here had this town been normal. It still wasn’t natural for him to brush it away and tell himself that it no longer was his problem. How could it have been natural? Ever since he was little, he had been told that he had this debt : he had been given abilities, and in return for those, he had to protect others from this nocturnal threat that vampires posed. This had been the only thing that made him worthy to his family, and he now regretted not rejecting it sooner. Still, it only felt natural that it should happen now. Looking back at the things he had accomplished, at the rest of his life, now might have been the steadiest he had ever been. Life was not perfect, but he now had time to think about what he wanted, what HE wanted.

Approaching the doors, he wrinkled his nose as the cold wind hit his face. "You are very kind," this was more an observation than a compliment, although he'd let the vampire be the judge of that. "Quite stubborn are we?" Took one to know one. "Do as you wish, but I'm walking out. I'm sure you'll easily catch up with me if you find someone," an amused glint in his eyes, the slayer went out the door with his crutches, turning around to give the man one last look. Well, that had gone a lot better than he had expected. Speak about much ado about nothing, he told himself.

[twokinkybeans]

FALLEN LIKE SNOW - CHAPTER ONE: PRETTY PLEASE

Written by @jeranasblog​ and Kinkybeanlien

(moodboard made by @jeranasblog​)

After an unfortunate run in with his boss – Tony Stark – and a paparazzi in an elevator, Peter Parker finds himself at the top of a piste, skis attached to his feet and living the trope he has only read about in fan fiction.

Will he only fall flat on his face in the snow? Or will he fall for his annoyingly selfish boss as well?

-

Notes: Adult Peter Parker, Fake dating, One sided enemies to lovers, No powers!AU, Mutual pining, Sugar daddy!Tony, Sugar baby!Peter, Fluff, Smut and Angst. Smut tags for later: Wet Dream, Dry Humping, Daddy Kink, Mirror Sex, Dom/Sub Undertones, Bondage, Humiliation, Oral Sex, Anal Sex, Fingering, Edging, Lingerie, Dom/Top!Tony, Sub/Bottom!Peter

-

Read Chapter 1 Pretty Please on AO3!

Ugh. Peter rolled his neck as he stepped into the elevator. He pushed his shoulder back and flinched when he cracked. This internship was a killer on his body. It was fun and educational, for sure, but he really needed to mind his posture. Being hunched over his desk was already taking its toll. If only he could afford a physical therapist… “Babe, hold the elevator, please!” In a reflex, Peter pressed the button to keep the elevator door open and he looked up to see none other than his boss, Tony Stark, rushing for him. His mood soured immediately and he considered pressing the button to close the elevator doors. As much as he liked the work he did, Peter wasn’t very fond of the person he was working for. Wait… Did Mr. Stark just call him “Babe?” When Tony got close to the elevator he shouted. “Close it, close it!” Peter pressed the right button. His boss probably thought he could squeeze in at the last second, but unfortunately for him, that’s not how elevators work. Tony threaded the needle as the door closed, but the sensor picked up on him and Peter snorted when the doors opened again. The young man glanced up and saw a small horde of paparazzi rushing their way. Suddenly, Tony pressed into his space and took over the button, pushing Peter’s hand aside and repeatedly tapping the button as if that would make the elevator doors close faster. Peter scoffed and stepped back, shaking his head and rolling his eyes. “Whoever let them in the building is going to get fired,” Tony seethed. “Maybe your security system is just lacking.” Peter said the words before he could think them through and if looks could kill, Peter would have been on the shiny elevator floor right now. “Mister Stark-!” One of the paparazzi, a young sprite who definitely didn’t look like she was with the gossip magazine her badge claimed her to be from, managed to get into the elevator. The doors closed, leaving the others behind. The elevator slowly started moving down. The three of them stood awkwardly. “I’m not answering your questions,” Tony said quickly. The paparazzi grinned and turned to Peter, who took a small, uncertain step back. “Well, then I’ll just ask your boyfriend.” “B-boyfriend?” Peter stuttered and glanced at Tony wide-eyed. The older man blinked once and wrapped an arm around Peter’s shoulder. The boy’s brows curled up into a frown. “Ah, yes! We prefer the term ‘significant other,’ right, babe?” Tony stared down into Peter’s eyes, a demanding fire in them telling Peter he would lose his internship if he didn’t play along. Peter laughed awkwardly. “Right,” he stammered.  “What a scoop!” The young woman jumped once, only to realize they were in a moving elevator. She contained her excitement by almost literally vibrating in her spot. “Tony Stark’s new boyfriend! Or- significant other. What’s your name?” Peter’s lips pulled together in a pout. He sucked at his teeth and stopped himself from flinching when Tony’s hand squeezed his shoulder. “Peter.” “Last name?” “Private.” “Peter Private?” “No, Miss, he doesn’t want to disclose his last name. Duh.” Tony rolled his eyes and relaxed a little, letting Peter’s shoulder go, only to move his hand down to Peter’s back. It was warm and present and Peter wasn’t sure if he was okay with it. It felt strangely good, though. “Fair enough, I’ll figure that one out on my own.” The woman winked and Peter wished he could just disappear. “So, how long?” “Couple weeks,” Tony replied before Peter could protest or give any kind of answer on his own. “I take it you’re bringing him to the annual ‘Valentine’s Ski Charity’ event?” Peter’s eyes went wide. He’d heard about Tony’s infamous parties that he liked to throw in the most expensive places; Tirol in Austria being one of them. The charity event always sounded like an excuse for Stark to go all out and spend bucket loads of money to bring over all his bougie friends to get drunk and have lots of sex. Something Peter would rather not be a part of. “Obviously,” Tony scoffed. Peter raised an eyebrow and tried to keep a straight face, but this was starting to become too much. This man was unreal. He was using Peter. What a dick. Before Peter could explain the truth, the elevator doors opened. The woman from the paparazzi was ushered away by security, but everyone outside the elevator in the lobby could see Tony holding Peter the way he was. The way people in a relationship would hold each other. Oh, God. Peter felt sick. He wanted to run, but Tony closed the elevator doors and asked his AI to take them up to his office. Peter could only stare at his boss with a mixture of fear and anger, feeling the press of his hand still on his back. The ride up is silent. Peter could tell Tony was prepping some kind of grand speech for when they would get up to the office. However, Peter was certain he could kiss his internship goodbye. … When the friendly voice of Tony’s AI announced the arrival at his private office, Peter was frozen, staring at the arm of his boss, which was still wrapped around his middle. Neither of them made any attempts to move and Peter desperately wished he was somewhere else. The uneasy feeling was getting harder and harder to ignore until finally Tony removed his hand from Peter’s back and stepped out of the elevator and into his office. “I’m sorry, Mr.- Peter.” Tony sighed, falling onto the chair behind his desk in theatrical fashion. He looked several years older when the fake smile that he had worn in the presence of the reporter vanished and Peter was plagued by an unwanted feeling of pity. Sure, his boss was a dick, but the discomfort on his face wasn’t pretended. “Could you do me a favor and take a seat?” Tony gestured at the empty chair opposite the desk and, reluctantly, Peter followed the order. This was the time he would lose his internship. He had worked for it since he was in high school and now that dream would crumble into a million pieces due to his inability to keep his mouth shut.  The silence was painful. Peter looked at his knees and fumbled with his sleeves. Tony pinched the bridge of his nose. A million thoughts were running through Peter’s mind and he wished he could take his words back. Sure, scoffing at his boss was satisfying for a second, but it wasn’t worth losing the internship. When Tony still didn’t speak after several minutes, Peter got anxious and started to babble. “Look, Mr. Stark. I didn’t mean to insult your security system, but that’s no reason to take away my internship. I didn’t say anything to the reporters, I even played along, so just think about it before you fire me, please?” His voice died away the longer he was talking. “Mr.-?” “Parker, Sir.” His voice was dripping with venom as he called his boss ‘Sir’. “Mr. Parker, nobody said anything about losing the internship.” Fine, he would pack his stuff right away. He didn’t have many things at his desk, but he had to say goodbye to his coworkers at least- Wait, did he understand that right? He didn’t just get sacked? “I’m not fired?” He asked stupidly, staring at his boss with wide eyes. “No, Peter. You aren’t.” Peter didn’t comment on the familiar use of his first name, afraid to go too far so that Tony would change his mind. “But there is another thing I have to ask of you. Of course, there was a catch. Peter was talking to Tony Stark; one of the most selfish people on the entire planet. He would never let Peter get away so easily. “So, I basically told the world that you’re my ‘significant other’.” The painful expression on Tony’s face made Peter even angrier. “And I also said that you would come along to the ski event I’m hosting every year.” “Apparently,” Peter replied dryly, hoping he didn’t look too disgusted. Tony took a deep breath, his gaze fixated on Peter during his next words. “Peter, would you pretend to be my boyfriend during the event? I have to bring a date and we’ll be all over the news tomorrow anyways.”  Peter blinked, staring at his boss and waiting for him to laugh. This had to be a joke, Tony would tell him any second now, that he was just kidding. That Peter was fired. But another look at the tired face of his boss confirmed that he was actually serious. “You want me to do what?” Tony’s expression turned painful again. “I want you to pretend to be my boyfriend during the ‘Valentine’s Ski Charity’ event. Pretty please?” Fuck. Peter started to panic. He didn’t want to play Tony Stark’s boyfriend, he didn’t want to pretend that he liked the selfish man, and he definitely didn’t want to go to the stupid event where everyone would spend the day drinking alcohol and having sex with strangers. Hell, he couldn’t even ski. The problem was, he didn’t want to lose his internship either, so the decision was made before he could think too long about the upcoming weekend.  “I don’t have anything to wear.” Peter regretted his words immediately after they had left his mouth and he blushed furiously. Tony Stark, billionaire and playboy, was asking him, Peter Parker, for a favor and he could have asked for anything in return. He could have asked for a job after his internship or let his boss squirm with discomfort with hilarious demands. But instead, he had embarrassed himself, indirectly accepting the invitation while admitting that he didn’t have enough money to buy appropriate clothes.  “Don’t worry, kid,” his boss said with a big smile which made Peter sick. “We’ll get you something tailored. That’s the least I could do, obviously.” “Obviously,” Peter mumbled, sarcasm dripping from his voice. He hoped he had spoken quiet enough that Tony couldn’t hear it. Of course, the billionaire would take him to his personal tailor. How would it look if Tony spent time with a cheaply dressed person? At least, Tony Stark owed him something. Peter planned to take advantage of this promise. “All right.” Peter sighed, determined to get it over with. “Just tell me when and where you need me.” Tony grinned broadly as if Peter had just saved his day. Well, he probably had. The man tapped his tablet a few times. “I’ll pick you up tonight, 15th street, to take you to the tailor. Just bring yourself, I’ll bring the money.” He chuckled slightly, but the sound died down as he saw the petrified expression on Peter’s face. “Do I even need to ask how you got my address?” “Honey, you work for me. I didn’t even have to hack your phone.” A cold shiver ran down Peter’s spine and he quickly stood up to make his way out. “Don’t call me honey.” The words sounded angrier than he wanted them to. “Okay, okay.” Tony raised his hands to appease him. “Thanks again. I’ll pick you up at six o’clock.” “Goodbye, Mr. Stark.” Peter relaxed when the doors of the elevator finally closed behind him. Why did things like this always happen to him? Now he had to spend a horrible week in the middle of nowhere in Austria in the company of a man he despised. He couldn’t even get home alone if things would get too bad because there was no way he could afford a flight from Austria to the States. MJ would kill him when he would tell her how he handled the situation. The only thing he was looking forward to was the opportunity to learn how to ski.  … The elevator doors opened when Peter arrived on the ground floor, and one look at the crowded entry hall was enough for him to feel sick. Everyone was staring at him, the receptionist behind her desk, three men in expensive-looking suits at the end of the hall, even the cleaning staff stopped their work. Not even an hour had passed and the whole company knew of his ‘relationship’ with his boss. He felt like an animal in the zoo, caged in the small elevator and Peter wanted to take a lift back up, if it wouldn’t mean spending time with Tony Stark again. And he could definitely do without that. So, he gritted his teeth, took a deep breath, and practically ran to the exit door. He tried not to listen, but he failed. “Isn’t he the one Tony Stark called his boyfriend? Why is a billionaire interested in someone so normal? Do you think he used sex to get his internship?” Peter heard his own blood rushing in his ears, and he swallowed, calming himself down because he didn’t want to cause a scene. They could say anything, that he is a sugar babe and just wants the billionaire’s money, but he couldn’t stand someone accusing him of getting his internship only because he had slept with the boss. Peter had worked hard for it every day. When he finally left the building, he was trembling, and his breath had quickened. Anger and fear raged inside of him, threatening to take him under and he fumbled for his phone in his backpack. It was all Tony’s fault. Of course, the billionaire would declare him his ‘significant other’ without thinking about the consequences for Peter. And now he even had to go shopping with him like a child that was allowed to buy new stuff with his Dad. The thought made his stomach churn. Tony Stark was a heartless and selfish person, but now it was too late to stay away from him. Peter was relieved when he eventually found his phone. He dialed the number of his best friend immediately. “Peter?” MJ’s voice sounded confused. “Shouldn’t you be at work?” Peter swallowed and pinched the back of his nose. How could he explain the situation? It was already a disaster. “I’m on my way home early. I have a problem.” “So bad, that you couldn’t even wait until you get home?” Now he could definitely hear concern in her voice. “Yes.” “Aight, shoot.” Peter pondered how to phrase it while he was waiting for the subway. He didn’t want all the people around him to know what’s going on. “So, you know my boss?” MJ sighed, and he could practically see her raising her eyebrows in his mind. “Pete, you know I do. You can’t spend a week without complaining about him. What’s it today?” “Hey!” She was right, MJ always was, but he had every damn right to dislike Tony Stark. The man was a plague, a curse, and the world would be better off without the playboy. Today, he had learned to hate the arrogant prick even more. When the subway arrived and Peter got in, he decided to tell it short. He didn’t have much time today because Tony-I’m-the-center-of-the-world-Stark would pick him up later. Brilliant. “You’ll read all over the news tomorrow that I am his new boyfriend.” There were a few seconds of silence before MJ started to choke and furiously coughed into the phone. “Jesus, Pete. A little warning would be nice. How did you manage to get yourself in such a situation?” “It wasn’t my fault,” Peter said defensively. “There were paparazzi following him. He wanted to escape and called me babe, asking me to keep the elevator doors open.” “He did what?” Peter wasn’t sure if MJ believed him. “I don’t know why he did it, MJ. And then there was this woman, and she started to ask questions, and then he wrapped his arms around me, and said I am his boyfriend and that I would come with him to this stupid ski event and-“ “Okay, Pete. Stop.” MJ interrupted his rambling. “Take a deep breath and tell me about it from the beginning. Peter obeyed and tried to calm himself down. He had been on edge for the last hour and becoming hysterical wouldn’t help him now. “Have you ever heard of the ‘Valentine’s Ski Charity’ event?” MJ chuckled. “Sure, Pete. You told me about it several times while you ranted about your boss.” Peter blushed, he didn’t notice before how much he was complaining about Tony, but he still thought it was justified. “When he told the press that I am his boyfriend, the reporter asked him whether I would come to this stupid event, and he said yes. Then he begged me to come along, play his boyfriend and promised me we can break-up afterward.” MJ roared with laughter and if his boss wouldn’t be such an asshole, he might have smiled himself. However, things were how they were, and Peter wished he could disappear for a week for the millionth time. MJ was still giggling, but she regained the better part of her control. “Peter, you can just say no. I don’t think he would fire you for that. Just tell him it’s your aunt’s birthday or something like that.” Peter paused. He hadn’t thought about that before. The fear of losing his internship had apparently switched off his brain and now he could hit himself for that. “It might be too late,” Peter confessed sheepishly while he got off the subway at his stop. “I didn’t react that well.” The silence that followed was uncomfortable. “What did you say, Peter?” He considered hanging up for a moment just to avoid her reaction, but it was better to get it over with while they were just calling. MJ would let him know her opinion anyway and it was easier when he didn’t have to look at her. “I might have told him that I have nothing to wear and now he is taking me to his personal tailor later.” Peter heard a loud thud, probably MJ banging her head on the table and it was followed by a long groan. “Peter.” “I know.” He started to panic, he didn’t want to fly to Austria, he didn’t want to spend a weekend in an overly expensive hotel and he definitely didn’t want to keep the mighty Tony Stark company. “MJ, I don’t want to go.” It was silent for a second and whatever he had expected, it wasn’t this. “You think you’ll lose your internship if you cancel?” “Yes.” “Do you want to lose your internship?” “No, of course not.” “Then stop whining like a child and enjoy the money your boss will be spending on you. Peter, you already said yes. Get over your stupid disgust and keep your promises.” Peter sulked for a second. He knew she was right and he needed to hear that, but it was so difficult to swallow the feelings. Just once, the billionaire should be let down. He should see what it feels like if you couldn’t buy something with money, that the world wasn’t centered around him. But Peter had already agreed, so there was no other option. “Fine, I’ll go. But for the record, I’m going to bug you with all my complaints in the next few days.” MJ snorted loudly. “As if that would make a difference; you already do it anyway.” Hey, that wasn’t fair. “Jerk.” “Coward.” He had to smile a little. At least he knew she would kick his ass if he would fuck something up. He adored his best friend, even when she was bossy sometimes. “Love you.” “Love you, too, Pete. Enjoy the weekend with your Sugar Daddy.” He hung up without saying goodbye. … Peter paced through his room. It’s a few minutes before six and all his mind could focus on was the fact that he was going to go to Austria. With Tony Stark. This weekend. Shit. He looked up the area and as gorgeous as it is, the whole situation was incredibly daunting. The nearest airport is Innsbruck. He figured that’d be important to know, should he need to get away. He got so caught up in his research, that he forgot the time. He can’t help it that Innsbruck is one of the hardest airports to land on because of the steep descent between all the mountains and the heavy updrafts? There are only a couple pilots who can actually fly via Innsbruck because the landing is deemed incredibly difficult and dangerous. That’s nuts! Ah, dang it, he was doing it again. But then, he’d rather think about the awesome videos of aircrafts landing and taking off at Innsbruck Airport than what he was about to do. Go shopping. With Tony Stark. Shit. Peter wanted to wear something at least slightly presentable, but with his measly college student budget, he didn’t have anything that could impress the CEO of his internship company. Who was Peter even kidding? Why would he want to impress Mr. Stark? The man barely glanced at him when they first met all those months ago. Peter looked up to him so much and when they first met, Tony straight up ignored him. He’s an asshole. Right? Popping the news to May was a whole other thing. Peter decided to only give his aunt half-truths, opting to keep the “fake dating” side of the story a secret. She was ecstatic, though. Her nephew was going to Austria for Tony Stark’s charity event! Ugh. She immediately rushed to the set of drawers in the living room to dust off his passport that he barely used and started gathering her inflatable cushion and other items that would make the flight more comfortable. While he appreciated May and everything she did for him, part of Peter wanted for none of this to be necessary. Why did he agree to this again? ... A strange combined rush of excitement and embarrassment washed over Peter when Tony rocked up to the poor student’s apartment building in his gigantic, polished Audi. Mr. Stark roared the engines a few times and Peter wasn’t sure if it was to get his attention or everybody else’s. Peter pretended he didn’t see his neighbors, who were walking their dog, watch him climb into the passenger’s seat of the insanely expensive sports car. He was quietly grateful that the windows were blinded. “Hey, kid,” Tony quipped. “Hey.” It stayed quiet, save for the car rumbling like a hunting lioness. Peter’s mind raced. He was in a car. With Tony Stark. Shit. Everything about this seemed so unreal, like a dream of which he couldn’t decide whether it was good or bad. The smell of the leather interior of the car tickled the insides of his nose and his fingers fiddled with the fabric of his jeans. Why weren’t they moving yet? Why wasn’t Tony driving? What is Mr. Stark waiting for? Oh, God. When Peter finally dared to turn his head to look at his boss, the man was staring back at him over his blue-tinted glasses with his eyebrows raised. “W-what?” Peter managed to stutter. Tony nodded at Peter’s chest and briefly mentioned what it was lacking. “Seatbelt.” ... “So,” Tony said after clearing his throat. The car ride had been silent and relatively awkward up until now. “I read up on you in your files, but you, Peter Parker, are very hard to read in person.” Peter pressed his lips on top of each other, forcing himself to keep looking out the window instead of at Mr. Stark. It’s not like Peter had a solid reply to that remark anyways. “If we’re going to do this, we’re gonna at least have to talk to each other.” “I know,” Peter sighed. He used the palm of his hand to rub his forehead while squeezing his eyes shut. “It’s just a lot all at once, okay?” Peter turned his head to look at Tony, only to find he wasn’t even holding the wheel of the car. It was driving itself. Peter stared at it wide-eyed. Tony cocked his head and showed a toothy grin with only one corner of his mouth curled up. “I like to tinker more than anything.” Great, Peter just voiced how insecure he is about all of this and Tony once again managed to turn the conversation to himself. “Modern Da Vinci,” Peter quoted the news sites, hoping that stroking his boss’s ego would help the situation. “Whoever said that is a liar,” Tony dismissed, tracing the leather of the wheel with his index fingers. Peter couldn’t help but stare at the rough hands and the way they caressed their property. Peter’s mouth went dry. He wanted – no, needed – to remind himself why his teenage crush on the man had crumbled. However, Peter couldn’t help how unfairly hot his boss was, even when he was nearing his fifties. Tony looked back up at Peter with raised eyebrows. “I don’t paint.” “Maybe you should.” Peter could hit himself. What was that kind of an answer? “I mean I could always just throw some grease on a canvas and call it art. Shit sells as long as you’re already rich and call it art.” “A lucrative business.” “Eh.” Tony shrugged. “I’m already surrounded by enough pretentious snobs. My art collection’s completely managed by my secretary.” Peter barely managed to hold in a snort. Pretentious snobs. Had the man never looked in a mirror? Or listened to himself talk? Tony pushed a hand through his hair and shifted in his seat so he could face Peter more easily. “Look, kid, I’m sorry for dragging you into this.” “To be honest, Mr. Stark, I’m not sure if you are.” The words left Peter’s mouth before he could think them through and he quietly sucked in a breath. “What are you implying?” Tony’s tone is slightly threatening and Peter bit his lip with frustration when his body betrayed him, as the blood started rushing to his member. Why was Tony’s authoritative voice so hot? It wasn’t fair. “You called me ‘babe’ in front of all the paparazzi.” “Honest mistake.” “Honest mist-“ Peter pressed his lips on top of each other to keep himself from finishing his sarcastic parroting. “Right.” “I’m not gonna lie, I wouldn’t have called you that if you weren’t as pretty as you are- God!” Tony dropped himself back against his seat and groaned. “I’m bad at this, okay? I figured I’d have a date- someone actually willing- for this stupid event, but I don’t.” Stark straightened his shoulders and glanced at Peter. “And it’s selfish of me to think that I can just ask anybody and that they’ll drop whatever they’re doing to help me. So, if you don’t want this, just tell me ‘kay? I’m big on consent. I’ll just pay some other guy to do this. You’re obviously uncomfortable.” “Stupid event?” “Is that literally all you got from that?” Tony scoffed. Peter squinted slightly but swallowed his snarky reply. Tony sighed. “This Valentine’s event was set up when I was still with Pepper and it’s been an annual thing for over twelve years now. The charity celebrates love.” Tony spoke animatedly, the movement of his hands emphasizing his words. “The event has one rule that I stupidly decided to implement when I was a cocky engaged prick.” He paused, blinking twice. “No donating when you’re single.” “Why not change the rule?” “Cause that’s even more selfish than implementing it in front of all of your single friends when drunk and enforcing it all the years you do have a relationship with a woman you don’t even love.” Tony pressed his lips into a tight, ingenuine smile and faced the road again. It faltered and the tired CEO Peter had seen earlier today is back. “This is one of the events I spend a lot of dollars on because I know how difficult love is. But with that said, I don’t want you or anybody to feel forced into this. Just say the word, kid, I’ll drop you off back at your apartment and I’ll be out of your hair.” It was quiet for a second before Peter’s shoulders relaxed and he eased back into the chair. Tony didn’t necessarily want Peter as a tool to show off. Tony wanted Peter so he could donate to his own charity event. Kind of weird, but not... Bad. It was weird how Peter kept creating images of who his boss is in his head that always ended up being contradictory to the truth. When he was younger his mind deemed Tony a hero. His teen self revered the man as a sex symbol. The first week of his internship was a dream come true and after the “Hi there, Mr. Stark, I wanted to thank you for-” “Don’t have time for you, bye.” incident it all turned sour. His adoration turned to distaste. The man was a selfish asshole to Peter for so long. And now... Now he was telling Peter all of this? That he’s... Good? In a way? It was all so confusing. But at least it made Peter hate the situation less. He knew this year’s charity was for LGBTQ+ youth, so Tony wanting to donate to the cause this badly must mean something. And it also meant a lot to Peter. He could definitely suck up and bask in a week of luxury and wealth and take the rich pricks for what they are if it means Tony pays the charity a good chunk of his cash stack. “So, how long ‘til we reach the tailor?” Peter said, looking straight ahead and trying to hide a smile. Tony didn’t even bother to conceal his happiness at Peter’s remark and sat back to enjoy the ride as well. “Couple of minutes.” … Even though Peter was cautious because he didn’t want to be let down again, he felt himself loosening up to Tony a little more as the evening went on. He couldn’t help it; the billionaire was charming and funny and smart... Peter rarely met anyone who was this easy to talk to. Mr. Stark seemed pleasantly surprised when Peter genuinely laughed at his niche joke about hydraulic engines and Peter even quipped one about thermal physics himself when discussing the clothes they’d be wearing on the pistes. Tony’s laugh was on loop in his brain for the next five minutes the tailor spent measuring each inch of Peter’s body. He made Tony Stark laugh. Something inside Peter stirred when the man behind the till told Tony what the tailored suit was going to cost. The stirring turned into something more when Stark handed the man his black credit card and waved it off. Three months of rent in Manhattan. For a suit. The next store Tony drove them to sold all kinds of winter gear. Peter said he’d be okay with just one outfit, but Tony wouldn’t hear it. Peter had to wear something different every day of the week. There was something about Tony staring at Peter’s body in the skin-tight thermal wear that made Peter turn his lower body away from the billionaire. Because the ‘more’ had turned to ‘even more’ at this point. And Peter didn’t want Tony to see what the tight clothes couldn’t hide. The clothes were starting to layer and pile. Store after store was visited and Peter was only allowed to fit the most expensive pieces of clothing. Cashmere turtlenecks and silk jackets, leather and suede shoes, even soft cotton underwear. Everything Peter would wear and carry had Tony’s money all over it. Peter ended up with multiple outfits for every day of the trip. He was never one for shopping, but Tony’s eyes staring at him, judging him, and his soft lips telling him to make a turn, and complimenting him, had Peter dizzy by the time they left the last store. He could barely contain a thrust of his hips and hold back a moan when Tony placed a hand on his shoulder at the last store as he handed the black credit card to the salesman who just scored the jackpot for his provisional sales percentage. “All for him,” Tony had said. Peter’s tailored suits would be express shipped to their hotel in Gerlos, as would all the ski gear. Once again, all Peter had to bring was himself. It was strange. Peter had to remind himself that Tony was doing all of this for a reason. If Peter feels confident and looks good, he’ll be a better and more convincing boyfriend. He was silently being bribed, Peter was sure of it. No matter how kind Tony may seem, he’s still the ass Peter met that one day. Certainly.

[ariesslutt]

This is a little sneak peek of a series i’m possibly working on, I just need feedback and people who would actually wanna read it + read comments for more info

In which Harry is your assigned partner for a project and you’re both extremely shy

y/n loves her literature class. ever since she was a little girl till she graduated highschool she has always loved all of her english classes and was so invested in staying locked up in her room whenever she could to write, this was alarming to her mother considering she swears she cannot remember the last time y/n actually hung out with somebody, so her mom brought her to a therapist thinking she was depressed. when she told her family she was going to university and planned on becoming a writer- no one was surprised. some may say that her love for everything to do with the english language arts was borderline obsessive- but that obsession brought her to where she is now. standing outside of her first literature class of the semester trying to not have a mini panic attack because she knows that there are going to be new faces all around her this year.

now y/n has always been very reserved and shy and always seems to panic whenever she has to meet new people. she doesn’t hate being around people, she just prefers her small group of friends she knows and talks with daily because getting to know others and doing the whole process of becoming friends with people can be so repetitive and if there’s one thing y/n hates, it’s things that are constant repetitive cycles. so when she spots her best friend madeline walking towards her with a comforting smile on her face she already knows what’s going to happen. “you okay? you look like you just walked in on your parents having sex for the first time again.“ y/n let out a breath and laid her head back against the wall and stops nibbling on her bottom lip and pushes it out, something she has always done when she was nervous, even as a child, “ i told you to not bring that memory up again. i think all the nightmares have finally stopped.” madeline rolled her eyes playfully and smiled brightly at y/n. “i know i know but it’s the only thing i could think of that your facial expression resembled. you never answered my question but i don’t need an answer because i can clearly see you’re not okay. now tell me what’s wrong” y/n pushed herself off the wall and rubbed at her bare face , she was too anxious about all her classes and being late because she was up all night binge watching shows on netflix to help distract her and ended up losing track of time till she noticed she only had thirty minutes to get to her first class, so putting makeup on that day even if she felt like she looked like death, was the last thing on her to do list. “you know how i get when i’m surrounded by new people. i’m just nervous.”putting her hand on her shoulder reassuringly, madeline sighed, “i understand, i don’t know what else to say besides just try to regulate your breathing and stay positive?” y/n smiled weakly at the sound of her advice, knowing she wasn’t gonna take it because its easier said than done. y/n loves madeline and knows that she means well but her advice isn’t always the best. madeline has always been super friendly and like a magnet, always pulling people close to her so she never really had this problem. madeline and y/n met their freshman year at this university, it was the first week and y/n wasn’t watching where she was going because she was trying to follow this stray kitten she had found so she could bring it home (which she eventually did find it, named her aphrodite after y/n’s favorite goddess, and as it turns out it’s gray coat she had seen had been discolored from its original white one, poor thing was just dirty.) and she ended up bumping into this dude, who was a huge dick about it. when the guy started yelling at y/n that’s when madeline came up to defend her. y/n hated being yelled at and tried so hard not to cry, but couldn’t help it when her eyes started tearing up. she still remembers her lively bestfriend’s first words to her, “he’s such a dick. girls gotta protect each other right? i’m madeline.“ and they have been bestfriend’s ever since. shaking the memory out of her head, she started up another topic. “yeah, i’ll try. isn’t your first class in like two minutes? you should go, i’ll meet you at that cafe we went to yesterday for lunch after? you know the ones with the flowers on the mugs?“ nodding her head madeline quickly pecked y/ns check and started walking away. “see you there! and dont be late like last time because you got sidetracked because of your writing.” and with that, she was gone.

y/n rolled her eyes and looked at the clock sitting daintly on her wrist, realizing her class was about to start she took a deep breath in to prepare herself and decided now is the best time to go in before all the good seats were taken. just as she was about to open the door, someone beat her to it which startled her because she didn’t hear anyone coming in her direction. “oh! i’m sorry, i should’ve just waited, you were here first. i didn’t mean to startle you. “ turning in the direction of the voice who made her jump like she was just zapped on a door handle while rubbing her sock covered feet on a rug, she was in awe at what she saw. the boy standing in front of her had to be at least nearly if not 6 foot tall, he had beautiful cocoa colored curls sitting perfectly atop of his head, the most mesmerizing jade eyes and the pinkest lips she has ever seen (seemed to look pretty soft too but she won’t admit she’s staring. ) with the most beautifully built face and the silkiest voice she ever heard, y/n instantly knew the accent was an english one and adding onto the dimples indenting his cheeks when he smiled at her sheepishly, was just the icing on the cake. holy shit- she thought, he had to be the most ethereal guy anyone has came across because wow. her mind quickly wandered if it was plausible that he was sculpted by the greek gods and goddesses themselves and descended from the higher heavens, sending him to her university as some sort of test to see how many people he could make fall at his feet for him by just one glance, but she knew that was a stretch. just staring at him for a few seconds she couldn’t notice a flaw on him, and she knows even if she studied him she would not be able to notice a flaw because he didn’t seem to have any. once y/n realized she has been staring at this stranger for a few seconds too long, she clears her throat, feeling her blood rush to her cheeks and she shakes her head dismissively. “sorry uh- don’t worry about it, it’s my fault i should’ve been paying attention.“ the boy looked down at her and chewed on the inside of his cheek. “n-no it’s my fault really i-“ he was cut off from his sentence once a pile of people started walking towards them and he formed his lips in a straight line. “looks like we better be getting inside then. i don’t wanna be trampled because i’m rambling” chuckling awkwardly, the boy opened the door and waltzed right in leaving a flustered y/n to walk in behind him.

[twoblueheartslocked]

Seblaine Para- Present Day (NYE1)

Para: Hold On To The Memories, They Will Hold On To You

Rating: PG-13 

Pairing: Seblaine. 

Sebastian: @colorsicantsee

Blaine: @twoblueheartslocked

Time: New Year’s Eve- Present Day. (1)

Location: Manhattan, New York

Info: A former Dalton Academy Warbler throws a New Year’s party for any former Warblers that can make it to NYC. Sebastian and Blaine haven’t seen each other in almost four years. They haven’t spoken for over two years. Both of them are changed and damaged in different ways. Feelings pushed down by time that never went away flare up in the worst way. 

Warnings: Mentions of abuse, mentions of drug use, death, smoking, drinking, cursing. 

Extra Warnings: (This RP is not Kurt Hummel friendly. You’ve all been warned.)

Notes: Under a cut because of length.

Blaine’s POV:

Breathe in and back out again, Blaine. Count to ten. You’ve got this. Most of these people here have your best interest in mind. You don’t need to worry. Everything is going to be alright. You can get through this night in one piece and you’ll be back home, in Brooklyn,  in your cramped, shitty apartment, in your cramped, shitty bed, in your closet of a bedroom before you know it.

Blaine’s inner monologue, something his therapist thought him to do, did very little to quell the nerves and rampant anxiety that seemed to be chewing through the pit of his stomach as he made his way into the crowded New Years party. Former Warblers- from ages 18 to who knows, graced the walls of the rooftop Manhattan apartment that some Warbler, whose name kept escaping him, owned. For the third time since he tousled his loose curls with product that night he wondered what the hell he was doing here. He’d only been at Dalton for two years before he made the stupid, yet admittedly valuable, jump to McKinley High. He felt like a fraud among the alumni that had spent all four years within it’s halls. Still, he’d told Sam that he would try and with a promise from David and Nick to not abandon him, he managed to follow through.

 He just hoped and prayed to a god he wasn’t sure existed that Kurt didn’t decide he wasn’t too good to call himself a Warbler and show up. His stomach gave a painful lurch at the recurring worry and the back of his neck throbbed, a phantom of clenched fingers squeezing too tight to make a point. And it was so intense that Blaine could swear Kurt was there, right behind him. He ducked his head, shame washing through him as his eyes darted around the room, wide and on full alert. Why hadn’t he worn a scarf? He’d been promised by David, who was promised by the host, that Kurt had turned down the invite, but he couldn’t shake the fingers and the ringing sound of disappointment in his ears that always sounded a lot like his ex-boyfriend’s voice.

He wasn’t prepared for the onslaught of attention he’d get as he was spotted by the first of his class of Warblers. Trent, and Wes were clapping him on the back, and pulling him into hugs. Jeff throwing an arm over his shoulders and shouting over the thump of bass- something about him being the man, the myth, the legend himself. Causing Blaine to tense up at the sudden contact, his cheeks flaring up red and hot at the words. He forced himself to smile, and give a gentle laugh to shake off the attention. Most of these people hadn’t seen him since high school. They didn’t really even know him anymore at all. Few did. These guys- they still thought of him as Blaine Warbler, the face of Dalton- with his easy smiles for everyone, and charisma and charm. If his old friends noticed his unusual quiet they didn’t address it. Blaine was glad for it. He didn’t think he could handle a look of pity for his losses or any of his plights.

He let himself be handed a clear plastic cup, someone must have remembered that he liked whisky, probably David, and he took a cautious sip. He didn’t need to get drunk and uninhibited around people he hardly knew anymore. Someone offered to take his short black pea coat from him and he politely declined, pulling the fabric around him like a shield. He felt a little like his teenage self, putting too much gel in his hair as if it would protect him and all at once he cursed himself for not giving up his coat. He made himself take another drink, hoping he could loosen up just a bit.

Twenty minutes in and he had managed to truly laugh at a few memories his old friends brought up. He even managed to talk about a few without second guessing himself. A little of his old confidence rising to the surface. He hadn’t even noticed that David had left his side until his friend gently tugged on his sleeve, his handsome, dark features looking stressed. Blaine’s body instantly froze, his eyes wide as he mouthed Kurt? to his second closest friend. But, David shook his head and sighed regretfully before he pointed to the balcony and time seemed to stop for Blaine because he wasn’t supposed to be here either.

There, on the balcony, framed by a snowy New York City skyline in a halo of cigarette smoke, looking bored even though Blaine couldn’t see his face, as he was facing the city, stood Sebastian Smythe. Clothed in a thigh length black pea coat, the grey hood of a hoodie peeking out over the collar, his long legs holding up a thin frame, too thin, actually. Did the man ever eat? As if Blaine were one to talk… And suddenly, just like that, seeing his absolute asshole of an ex didn’t seem as bad as this. Nor would it feel as bad. And for a second Blaine couldn’t breathe properly. And his heart throbbed at the sight of him and all at once he truly wished it was Kurt instead. He’d take feeling small and useless over the pain of regret and heartbreak any day.

 Suddenly he was newly seventeen again and both of his parents were still alive and he was happy as his fingers laced with a uncharacteristically shy Sebastian’s. And Seb’s trademark smirk was gone and replaced with an imperfectly perfect toothy, wide smile that made his impossible green eyes crinkle in delight. And that smile was new to Seb and seemed made up just for Blaine for a little while and Blaine was giddy and free in a way he couldn’t remember ever feeling before. They fit together in a way that Blaine had never felt and would never feel again and Blaine’s heart had ached to just stay with him… and-

A slight shake from David brought him back to present time and Blaine dragged his eyes from the balcony to look into David’s deep brown gaze. David assured him that Sebastian hadn’t seen him yet and that they could just leave, but how could Blaine do that? It had been so long… He licked his lips and took a long pull on his drink, draining the rest in one go. He handed the cup to his friend and assured him that he’d be fine. He’d regret it if he didn’t say hello. Right? He stood up, feeling the heat of whisky course through him as he made his way through the crowd and to the open balcony door. He pulled his gloves on before pushing outside, liquid courage making him feel brave for a moment. He hadn’t noticed at first, but Hunter Clarington was out here too, looking like some sort of guard dog with raised hackles protecting his friend and Blaine almost turned back because what must Hunter think of him? Would he stop him before he even had the chance to speak? He braved it and gave Hunter a nod and a twitch of his lips that was meant to be a smile.

With each step towards Sebastian his heart pounded as if it were in danger. Boom, boom, boom... When his voice came out, he hardly recognized it as his own and when Sebastian turned to face him his booming heart ached all over again because god dammit  he was still so beautiful.

“Hey, Seb.” It was soft and unsure and he prayed to see his smile, but knew he’d get the same old, I don’t care about anything, smirk.

Sebastian’s POV:

Sebastian didn’t care about this stupid Warbler party. He couldn't care less about pretending and parading around talking about majors and future plans and cramped dorm rooms and sketchy roommates. He hardly checked his Facebook let alone keep up with fucking Trent or some other random wasp from BFE Ohio. Sebastian didn’t even really know if he considered himself a Warbler anymore. Of course, Hunter insisted that he was. It was Seb, after all, who helped him climb out of his Steroid problem and who was dance captain for his short time at the school. He didn’t really have any friends from Dalton, just Hunter and Seb couldn’t decide half of the time if that was out of “bro code” or “owing him one”.  He had run away to Paris after his heart was broken by every good Dalton boy’s favorite guy and he never went back. Sebastian’s heart wasn’t in Westerville, it wasn’t in Paris, either. Sebastian would know, he had spent countless nights chasing gold in the blue and brown eyes of Parisian men. His heart wasn’t even in his own body that he filled with expensive alcohol and nicotine, that he gave away to random boys under the flash of blue and pink lights, in graffitied bathroom stalls, in the back of expensive cars, in rooms where wives were gone for the weekend.

Hunter had begged, and Sebastian hated it when he begged. “C’mon,dude. Don’t make me go alone. Everyone will ask about you.” “Man up and go. Don’t be a dick.” “Bas, please go.” Sebastian kept insisting in texts and phone calls that he found the party to be a waste of time even though he and his friend both knew he was afraid of seeing a certain somebody there. “What’s the point? It’s a party for people who had their peak in high school. How pitiful.” Hunter ignored him and told him that Blaine probably wouldn’t show up. Suddenly it was the evening of the party and Sebastian was being shoved into an Uber by Hunter who was visiting from Cambridge for the weekend. He chainsmoked the entire way to the party much to the chagrin of their disgruntled driver. Sebastian kept his eyes locked on the rear view mirror to make distinct eye contact with the grumpy man driving, he’d take a long drag anytime their eyes met and the man would huff. Hunter left a big tip, Sebastian winked on the way out with a dry laugh. “That was probably the most fun I’m going to have tonight.”

 He walked into the party, the apartment was nice enough and lit with white Christmas lights strung everywhere. There was generic pop music throbbing through the walls and plenty to drink, nothing too crazy expensive but nothing cheap that would cause a terrible hangover the next morning. There were more than just former Warblers, there were some girls and some random guys. Maybe Sebastian could score tonight and leave early, lock Hunter out of his apartment that he did not remember inviting him to stay in.

Seb poured himself a shot of vodka and tossed it back before Jeff made eye contact with him and tried pulling him into a hug. He held his hands out and simply deadpanned a “No way.” before he turned to pour himself another shot as the blonde prattled on about whatever Ivy League he was attending. Sebastian nodded towards the balcony, Hunter followed and Jeff got the hint. Hunter started to reprimand Sebastian about how he could at least try to be nice but all he could focus on was the light snow that began to swirl in the air and the itch in the back of his throat for another cigarette. He waved his hand dismissively and lit another one, tilted his head back and exhaled into the dark sky.

Seb flicked his cigarette into the New York night. Maybe the ashes would settle among the stars. He tried to focus on that thought rather than listen to the familiar voice he had heard slip through the crack in the balcony door. He knew the minute he turned around, he was going to be Blaine’s fool all over again. Sebastian became aware of everything at once. He could feel Hunter shift his weight, he must have seen him through the windows. He could hear the conversation get louder over the excitement of Blaine being there, could feel the air trying to escape from his lungs, the butterflies fight against his rib-cage, his heart pound in his fucking ears. He swallowed a thick gulp that he hoped the other man didn’t see and took a shaky drag as he stared at the snow gathering on the buildings around them. Blaine loves this shit, he thought to himself. Sebastian hated the cold but he would stand in a blizzard if it meant listening to Blaine wax poetic about snow globes and winter magic. He’d never say any of that out loud, he’d rather throw himself off of the balcony into the busy streets of the city.

Sebastian bit his bottom lip and closed his eyes for a moment when he heard the door creak, the sounds of the party drift on the cold winter air. He needed to suck it up and turn around. He could do this. Sebastian spun around, his green eyes on Blaine’s giant golden ones immediately as if by some magnetic force. He took a slow, deliberate drag of his cigarette, prayed that nobody could hear the rapid thud of his give away heart in his chest. Sebastian noticed David’s tall figure behind him, felt Hunter’s nerves and heard  him mutter “fuck…” under his breath. He flicked his cigarette, “Relax, David. I won’t hurt him.” Sebastian smirked, couldn’t look away from Blaine. He looked...well obviously he looked wonderful, he always did. Snowflakes were starting to collect in his black curls and his cheeks were red from the bitter winter air.

Sebastian hoped his voice  sounded even and cool, hoped his chill ‘I don’t give a fuck’ demeanor that he worked way too hard on was evident, even though he felt like he was sixteen and stuck in the midst of a raging crush all over again.

“Hey Killer. Long time no see.” 

Blaine’s POV:

Blaine’s brain buzzed at the use of his old nickname. The one that had gotten him in trouble with Kurt, the first time they were together, every single time it was used by Sebastian. Blaine had always secretly liked it, liked that it was his and no one else called him that. He’d never tell Seb, even as they had gotten closer, he always rolled his eyes and shook his head as if it miffed him when in reality it sent the butterflies fluttering around his belly. It was almost as nice as when Seb would eventually whisper B... into his ear when he’d let Blaine kiss his neck… Best not go there, Anderson. That was years ago. So, he rolled his eyes and sighed.

“Not that same old tune again.” He tried to make it sound playful, but really it just made him ache more. He turned and looked over his shoulder at David, giving him a small smile. “It’s okay- I’m okay.” He wondered if David knew he was lying. He nodded as if that would forced the point. David sighed and stepped back into the party, but Blaine could still see the outline of his body close to the door. He was thankful.

There was a snowflake clinging to Seb’s cheek like a lifeline, no wait, it was ash from the careless flick of Seb’s cigarette and Blaine wanted nothing more than to take his glove off, reach out and swipe it away with his thumb. Once upon a time Blaine had been on to him about this bad habit, and how dangerous it was, but couldn’t deny it’s attractiveness… This was absolute insanity. Blaine had only had Sebastian for a short time, but that was all it took to completely ruin him. Perhaps he ruined himself in the process, it was his fault they cracked in the first place. Right? His heart gave a painful thump as he let himself think back to their months spent getting to know each other, the real person behind their facades. He remembered his first taste of Seb’s mouth against his and how he thought, in that moment, that he’d be happy just kissing him for the rest of his life, but then their one perfect, intimate night together proved him wrong. He’d just wanted to touch him forever.

And for a moment, lost in his thoughts, Blaine almost smiled at the memories. That was until he remembered what came after, the news that ripped his happiness apart and left him gutted, the loss that rendered Blaine useless to himself and everyone else. The loss was his downfall in more ways than one and the reason Blaine allowed himself to go back to Kurt and the reason he was skittish now, the reason he hadn’t kissed anyone in nine months, the reason he was stuck in this shell of himself in the first place. Phantom fingers squeezed the back of his neck again and he swallowed hard, hoping it wasn’t noticed. Breathe in, breathe out. Count to ten. You’ve got this, Blaine. He shoved his hands into his pockets, hoping they’d think he was shaking from the cold.

He cleared his throat, forcing himself out of his memories, memories that did nothing but hurt him like they no doubt hurt Sebastian, even though the other man seemed to be doing fine on the outside, Blaine remembered the stricken, pained look and the welling of tears in too bright green eyes. Blaine knew you couldn’t fake that. He took another deep breath, and made himself smile up at the taller man, it was small and meek, but it was a smile nonetheless. He couldn’t bring himself to look Sebastian in the eye, so he instead focused on the little fleck of ash on his cold flushed cheek and tried not to think about how Sebastian was more breathtaking than the snowy city skyline he adored so much.

“I’m surprised you came, it’s not really your scene, is it?’ He forced a laugh, noting how Hunter was flicking looks between the two of them and over his shoulder where David was still no doubt lurking. “I didn’t even know you were in New York.” A lie- and it just rolled off of his tongue as if to prove something. But of course Blaine knew Seb was here, had been for maybe two years. “Are you going to school here, or just visiting?” The small talk would be the death of him. He’d give anything to just be in his shitty, yet cozy apartment where he wasn’t on display and where he could at least try to pretend he wasn’t miserable with a Netflix and donuts distraction. Midnight felt years away.

Sebastian’s POV: 

“Well, you’ve always had an effect on me, B. You have me feeling a little nostalgic.”  Sebastian took another long drag and blew the smoke out of the side of his mouth, one arm folded across his chest to clutch at his arm, cigarette at his side. He heard Hunter scoff and could see the shake of his head as if to say ‘you never give anything a rest, do you?’ How could he give anything a rest when his biggest regret was standing in front of him with nervous tension in the crease of his forehead?

Sebastian finished his cigarette and dropped it to the ground, stomped the flame out with the tip of his boot. It would be a little gift for the random Warbler who owned the apartment. He shoved his hands into his pockets and nodded as Blaine spoke. Sebastian noticed that he wasn’t making eye contact, which was strange for him. Blaine was charismatic and talkative and charming, he could sell paper to a tree. The warm light that normally seemed to follow the other man everywhere he went seemed dimmed, his smile didn’t reach those perfect eyes. Sebastian knew hurt, he knew quiet pain and it was written all over Blaine.

Hunter mumbled that he was going to grab them some drinks and left the balcony to just the two of them. Seb could hear New Years party goers yelling in the streets, could what laughter and dull music and car horns. It would be midnight soon and he wished he was lost in a crowded bar right about now rather than faking small talk with somebody he used to adore. Sebastian hated small talk and he hated faking how he really felt and here he was, failing at both.

“Okay, small talk. Here we go. Yeah, it’s not my scene. Hunter begged me to come. I’ve lived here for a couple years. I go to Columbia. How about you, Blaine? Living your wildest dreams? Married yet? Starring on Broadway? Breaking hearts? What’s new?” He cleared his throat and forced a smirk. He knew he sounded abrasive. Sebastian shoved his hands in his coat pockets and rocked back on his heels, ducking his head to try and get the other man to look at him, to really look at him. “See something you like?” He couldn’t wait for Hunter to come back with a drink to distract his hands and quiet his mind for a brief moment.

Blaine’s POV: 

Blaine let out a mirthless laugh, it sounded small and timid in his ears and he cursed himself for sounding that way. He opened his mouth to reply, to say something that could match Sebastian, to keep up with him the way he used to be able to, but nothing came out. He just nodded, his shoulder coming up in a shrug as if he’d forgotten how to use his mouth. This was hell for him. This tension, this emotion that was threatening to take hold of him. Why the hell had he come out here? To say hi? What kind of bullshit was that? Did he think that it would prove something to himself? That he could do it without falling apart? There was a reason he hadn’t spoken to Sebastian in over two years. There was a reason Sebastian’s stance was defensive right now. There was a reason Blaine was internally falling apart all over again, after he’d done such a bang up job putting himself back together. He should have just left. It would have been better for him than this...whatever this was.

He watched as Hunter left the balcony, leaving him and Sebastian, miraculously,  all alone. Seriously, why wasn’t this spot running wild with party goers? Midnight wasn’t even twenty minutes away and the people of New York would usually kill for this spot. Up high in the grey black skyline of NYC, he could even hear the faint sounds of Taylor Swift singing in Times Square in the silence that lay between him and Sebastian. Perfect melancholy soundtrack for this kind of night he guessed. He opened his mouth to try again, to maybe fill the silence but Sebastian beat him to it seeming annoyed and irritated that Blaine had asked anything at all. The use of his name caused him to tense for a split second and wonder what he’d said to warrant that when he remembered this was Sebastian. Sebastian’s default was usually annoyance. Or seduction.

He tried to make himself relax, and found that his first thought was to wonder how insensitive Sebastian could be to joke about Broadway and marriage, but he had to remind himself that Sebastian had only been around for the first part of his battle. He only knew half of what had happened to him. He didn’t know that he’d lost the music inside of him or that he felt every single day like an impostor in his own life and that love apparently was not for him. He took another deep breath and tried not to notice how Sebastian’s head dipped down for him, ducking so that he could see him. Or so that he could make Blaine see. It was familiar and a call back to younger years and it made Blaine’s heart flip. Yeah, Seb, I do. I see you. But, he didn’t say that because that wasn’t fair. Instead he stumbled over his words.

“I- N-no, I’m a Sophomore at NYU. I, um, I took a year off after high school  because, um, well, you know.” He shrugged. Yeah, blame it on the dead parents. Sure, it was partially true, but Kurt and his “helpful” suggestion to take a break and stay with him for peace of mind was the real reason and it had done nothing but damage his mind. He took another deep breath and forced himself to finally look up at Seb. To look at his face properly, his eyes meeting an intense and familiar green that were hiding their emotions very carefully. Same as always. Blaine had spent months, once upon a time, gently tugging those walls down and with regret he remembered how they snapped harshly back into place within seconds, blocking him out completely.

His anxiety was on the rise again with those kinds of thoughts and he visibly swallowed and took another deep breath. His mantra repeating in his head over and over. Breathe in, breathe out. Count to ten. You’ve got this, Blaine. Maybe it didn’t really work, maybe he was kidding himself but it was currently keeping him from his urge to cry. To obsess over Sebastian’s flippant and annoyed words because maybe Blaine had broken Seb’s heart, but he’d also broken his own in the process. The fucking thing was still in pieces that never seemed to want to fit back the way they were supposed to. But his therapist had helped him see that while his actions when he was younger were warranted, given the circumstances, he maybe could have done it in a better way. Explained himself better to Sebastian. Then maybe the two of them would be someplace else right now and Blaine would have never gone back to Kurt. He also should have stayed in therapy in high school and not stopped going for years when Kurt told him he didn’t need it. His head might be someplace else right now as well.

He tried at sarcasm. “If you consider a cramped Brooklyn flat with a closet for a bedroom and working two and half jobs on top of classes The Dream then sure, yeah, I’m living it.”  The sarcasm fell flat and he only ended up sounding self deprecating which made him want to kick himself because he didn’t want Seb’s pity. He ignored the marriage question altogether and instead chose to focus on what was actually new in his life. What could he even say? Hey Seb, I’m super fucked up, I’ve been in heavy therapy that’s breaking my bank for six months now. I take a shit load of meds that make me want to sleep for days sometimes, or keep me awake for days at other times. And sometimes they make it so I can’t eat, not even my sweets, you remember how I liked those, right? Yeah, and sometimes they make it so I can’t cry and then some days I can’t stop crying. Oh yeah, after my parents died and I lost you I went back to Kurt and he ended up being a bully this time around, like the worst kind. Can you believe I allowed myself to get abused? He struggled even thinking that word. Fuck.

No. No, he couldn’t say any of that. But, he needed to say something. Something that was good and positive about himself.  Just fucking make something up, Blaine. “Ah, well, as I said, I’ve moved to Brooklyn. Like seven or so months ago. It’s cramped, and weird living alone after, um, never living alone before but it’s mine and I get a lot of time with my music now.” Never mind that he wasn’t writing or even playing at all. Only when it came to his school work and even then it was mostly uninspired.

“What about you? Is New York treating you as good as Paris does?” Suddenly he wanted to just tell Sebastian that he missed him. That he thought about him all the damn time and that over the course of the last four years he’d picked up his phone to call him and tell him and to beg him to come back to him over a dozen times. The one time he actually did it didn’t really count because he had been intoxicated and it was messy. Instead he lamely asked, “How’s your mom?” because he’d always liked Sabine and it was the furthest thing away from I miss you as possible.

He turned and looked back into the sliding glass of the apartment door, wanting to break the eye contact in some way, feeling trapped in the emerald hue. He didn’t want to feel trapped. It made him anxious. He could make out the shape of Hunter and David bent together conversationally  as they slowly made their way back towards them. Both of them carried drinks in each hand. God, he wished they’d hurry. He could feel himself crumbling. The facade of happiness he’d painted on for his old friends falling apart the longer he stood out here talking like nothing had happened. He always did this with Sebastian. Always gave way too much of himself away to him. He let him see everything. And maybe it was because with Seb, he was allowed to be too much. Or he used to be allowed anyway. Now he had nothing. Just memories that ate him up all the time. Making Blaine feel the other shitty things in his life even more intensely. 

He wrapped his arms around himself to try and hold himself together. Midnight was close. It would arrive and then leave and Seb would, too. Probably putting the thought of Blaine back into whatever locked compartment he kept him in. And Blaine would go home and feel the chance meeting way too much and all at once and fuck he needed more to drink. His head was already throbbing right along with his heart at the thought of having to sit alone and feel this little conversation.

Sebastian’s POV:

Sebastian could see a million little emotions flit across Blaine’s face. Sebastian had kept track for a little while on social media but, it had hurt him to see that he had gotten back with Kurt. He had taken a step back after that. He stopped checking his Facebook obsessively, stopped staring at his Instagram, didn’t send texts or snaps. Blaine had drunkenly called him one glorious, hopeful night but it was all taken away from him the next morning. Sebastian noticed that Blaine mentioned moving and living alone. He had heard that the two of them had split and kept that information folded up like a secret love note in the back of his head. Sebastian couldn’t keep his stomach from flipping in excitement to basically hear it confirmed out loud. He reprimanded the butterflies battering his ribs, had to silently remind them that simply hearing words didn’t really mean anything and they were all just going to be let down again. “Isn’t it strange?  We’ve both been running around the city for about the same amount of time and haven’t ran into each other? I suppose it’s because you’d never find me in Brooklyn.” Sebastian threw in a trademark eye roll for good measure, trying his best to keep his voice blase. His fingers itched to light a cigarette, his nerves were on fire from the specific spike of adrenaline that only a past heartbreak can cause.

He ran a hand through his hair to shake away the snowflakes that had gathered there and shivered, he wasn’t sure if it was from the nerves or from the weather. “New York treats me just fine. There are so many beautiful men, so many parties. I stay busy.”

Sebastian’s face fell slightly when the other man asked about his mother. Part of him felt angry, like how dare he? Maybe if he cared so much he could have reached out a few times. The other part of him understood because Blaine grew close with Sabine in the short time they were involved. Seb knew that if she were there, she’d pull the other man into a lavender scented hug and tell him in her accent that she had missed seeing him around.  “She’s good.” He shrugged his shoulders. Sebastian wasn’t about to get into any of the messy details of how their relationship had become fucked up since Blaine was in his kitchen baking Christmas cookies with her. He loved his mother, she was his closest confidant. But he had messed up so many times in the past few years that she had developed little worry lines in her beautiful forehead, sounded sad on the phone with him more often than not, cried for him and begged him to slow down.  

Sebastian heard the door slide open, saw Hunter and David appear with drinks behind Blaine. “Fucking finally.” He held out his hand for his drink. “Took you long enough. We could use the pick me up, couldn’t we, B?”

Blaine’s POV:

Blaine tried to smile, but it came out more as a wince.”Yeah, I guess you’re right.” In reality Blaine knew it was relatively easy to avoid someone when you knew they lived around you. Blaine would often find himself checking in on Hunter’s Instagram or Facebook or Twitter to see if he was in town. Hunter was much more active on socials and would often post some of the places he and Sebastian would frequent. Blaine knew places to avoid in Manhattan for the most part. Plus, it wasn’t like Blaine had spent his first years here going out and about by himself all the time. No, that was difficult when where you went and what you did was mostly dictated by someone else. When you mostly only did things that they wanted to do.

“Hey, Brooklyn isn’t so bad. I’ve been working at a local coffee shop and a bar there for the last few months and it’s been pretty therapeutic. And sure, the apartment is shitty, but it beats the overpriced ritzy places in Manhattan.” He rolled his eyes, trying to come across as playful. His apartment in Manhattan had actually been incredible. Just not the people he had to share it with. He wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to forgive Rachel for denying what was happening right in front of her. He cleared his throat, trying to get rid of the thought before he was engulfed in more anxiety about it.  “Besides, I lived in Manhattan for the first three years I lived here, so there was always the chance we could have run into each other then. Guess fate wasn’t having it.”

Beautiful men and parties. Of course Blaine knew Sebastian did that sort of thing. He did that sort of thing when he was fifteen. But, he could feel that this was meant to sting him a little and if not, it stung anyway. He didn’t like thinking about Sebastian with random men every weekend, but he wasn’t stupid. Not about this anyway. And Sebastian had never been shy about his sex life. It didn't matter if he already knew though, he could feel his face fall at the confirmation, could feel the sudden stricken look and did his best to cover it up. He bit his lip and forced himself to nod. “It’s good that you’re keeping busy. I’m happy the city has been good to you.” the words tasted rotten on his tongue and where the hell were Hunter and David?

Blaine noted the way Sebastian’s face fell at the mention of Sabine and knew that he’d messed up by asking. Blaine had been incredibly fond of her, he found her glamorous and lovely and admired the way she loved Sebastian so much. But Seb’s short answer and stiff shrug made Blaine wonder if maybe she hated him now, too. Hated him for hurting her son even though Blaine hadn’t wanted to.  He wouldn’t blame her. He still hated himself for it. “I’m glad to hear that.” The words felt hollow even though they were true.

David waited until Blaine could see him before he nudged him and handed him his drink. The cup was full and Blaine had to fight the urge to down it in one go.He shouldn’t be drinking anything at all. It would work against his medicine and probably make him sick but he couldn’t find it in him to care as he took a gulp like the whisky was water. Yeah, Seb had been right, the pick me up was needed. He smiled and thanked David for the drink, his friend asking if he was cool before he moved to lean against the railing on the balcony with Hunter. The two of them were turned toward each other and seemed to be picking up their earlier conversation which left him alone with Sebastian again.

He turned towards his old friend- friend? Lover? God, what even was Sebastian to him? Neither word seemed good enough. He lifted his cup for another drink, his eyes catching on Seb’s cheek again. The cigarette ash was still there. Still kissing Seb’s cheekbone and Blaine opened his mouth to tell him about it when the sounds of thousands of people started counting from the streets below joined by the crowd in the apartment. He froze, the voices blending like a choir in perfect harmony.

They had gotten to from eight to five and Blaine shot Hunter and David a look because why didn’t they tell them what time it was? Blaine had been hoping to excuse himself before midnight, was hoping to have himself hidden away in the bathroom so he didn’t have to hug a bunch of strangers or have someone kiss his cheek and he didn’t have to pretend he was excited for the new year. But, here he was, standing not even three feet from Sebastian Smythe and he didn’t know what to do.  4-3-2… and suddenly there were fireworks bursting overhead, it was a new year and there was confetti billowing in the winter night to the melancholy tune of Auld Lang Syne as it rang out. Snowflakes danced  in the air while the people below kissed and laughed like they'd never feel sorrow again. He wished he could relate.

Sebastian's POV:

Sebastian’s stomach fell, fell through the apartment building floors, the butterflies gone.  Guess fate wasn’t having it. His mouth stiffened and he took a sharp breath. He wanted to pinch the bridge of his nose, a nervous tick of his when he got frustrated. Sebastian fought against his own body, the acidic sick feeling in his stomach, the jittery adrenaline running through his veins, the trapped 16 year old in his brain yelling and screaming and begging Blaine to just fucking take him back. Just tell me you miss me, please. I miss you. I feel like you hate me and that makes me hate myself. “It was fate, sure.”  Sebastian’s voice was dry and he fought the urge to laugh. You know that maniacal laughter when everything is just too much and your lungs feel like they might explode and your skin is burning and all you want to do is scream and laugh and tell everybody to just fuck off? “I guess fate has never favored me.”

He was so over this small talk. He was disgusted by the reactions happening under his skin that nobody but him could feel. Blaine was Sebastian’s first and only heartbreak. He was disgusted by how sprung he still was, had lied to himself and told himself that he was over it. Sebastian had never been over it and that realization was so embarrassing that he could hardly stand himself and he wanted to tear himself out of his skin. Most of the words Blaine was saying were just floating over his head at this point, he was so disappointed with the direction of this meeting. Sometimes when Sebastian got drunk or sad or high enough he would let himself imagine reuniting with Blaine. That Blaine would tell him he missed him and Sebastian would say that he loved him and they’d patch each other’s wounds and kiss in pools and hold hands in parks and share french fries and Blaine would tackle him in his mother’s backyard and kiss him all over his face, his neck and they’d laugh until their stomachs hurt again.

Sebastian took a much needed swig of his vodka cranberry that Hunter had made a little too weak and rolled his eyes to himself. Of course Hunter wouldn’t make him a strong drink. He was probably too worried about him. It didn’t matter, Sebastian already planned on ditching the party for a bar anyway.  Suddenly, the world seemed to explode into noise. Sebastian could hear the countdown echoing all around them. Hunter and David distracted and cheering, clapping each other on the back. The people inside of the apartment wrapped in the golden glow of Christmas lights left up from the days before, some of them were kissing strangers or old lovers, shaking hands and hugging and laughing. A few of the party goers exploded onto the balcony in a burst of noisemakers and music but Sebastian felt like he was alone, just staring at Blaine as he awkwardly clasped his plastic cup. He felt like he was stuck in the worst snow globe ever produced. Such a sad scene; two damaged boys too afraid to fix anything surrounded by kissing strangers and dirty snow and cheering partiers. They say that the people you’re with at midnight on New Year’s eve were who you would spend your year with. The thought made Sebastian feel so alone because he didn’t really feel like Blaine was really there.

In the back of his head, where he kept his most guarded secrets, Sebastian knew he would give anything to be wrapped in the warmth of Blaine, the glow of cheap lights on their skin, kissing the taste of New Year’s champagne away. 

  The words were out of his lips before he could stop them. Sebastian knew his eyes looked pained, and that his flirty voice didn’t match his sad but eager body language. 

“You don’t wanna kiss me, B?”

Blaine’s POV:

Blaine’s body tensed even more at Sebastian’s words. He knew Sebastian didn’t believe in fate or any of that sort of thing, but the way he said seemed so sad. No Seb, I’m the one that fate doesn’t favor. I’m the fuck up and the reason we’re in this awkward, forced conversation. I’m the reason you’re making yourself stand out here in the cold that you hate so much. You’ve never liked it, only tolerated it for me. Blaine used to love the wintertime, it was magical and it made him feel so full of wonder but he’d lost so much during the winter that the magic had turned harsh and had made him bitter towards the season. No, it wasn’t Seb’s fault or fate’s. It was all his. Why were they doing this? Sebastian hated small talk. He’d always hated the way people scrambled for answers to questions he didn’t give a shit about.

It’s my fault you’re out here, making yourself do things you don’t like doing in the first place. I’m always making you do that. Pushing you out of your comfort zone... Always making you feel and hurt and god, you should hate me. The only thing you ever did wrong was let someone like me see how good you are. You wasted it on me.  The words were there, threatening to push past his teeth. He could remember the hurt, no the heart wrenching look on Sebastian’s face when he’d broke it off with him. It didn’t matter why he did it. But he would face a thousand insults and bruises every single day again over seeing that face ever again. He ignored the little voice that sounded a lot like Sam, telling him that he had been forced to face that anyway. A voice sounding like his own told him he must've deserved it.

You don’t wanna kiss me, B?”

Hunter and David were suddenly paying very close attention to the two of them now. And the words sent  a spike through his heart and at first he thought he might have been being cruel. Taunting him, and turning what they had into some mockery, but  the tone didn’t match his face. Seb’s eyes were full of a pain that Blaine knew well, and his face was eager and open and Blaine could, for just a moment, read him like a book. God, how much are you hurting, Seb? And for a second Blaine ached to just pull him into his arms and hold him close. To reassure him that their time together was so much more than just a fling. That he had loved him wholly and completely and still did. He wanted to kiss his face and tell him that he was so fucking sorry for how it ended and that he deserved the world. He wanted to tell him that even when he had gotten trapped by Kurt and manipulated into a three year relationship of insecurities, and head games that he was unable to dig himself out of, he'd thought about Sebastian. Seb wouldn’t have done those things to Blaine.

What I wouldn’t give to turn back our timeline and keep you with me. Make you feel all the love and attention I have for you. I’d make you see that you deserved all of it and none of the bullshit I did. I’d let you help me though what I lost and I wouldn’t have pushed you away, no matter how much it hurt to bring you down with me.

Still the words were locked in his brain, he couldn’t say them. He didn’t deserve that peace of mind. Telling him how much he missed the summer nights and autumn weekends and winter touches wouldn’t do shit. The damage to them and then to Blaine had already been done. Blaine had started it and then Kurt had seen to the rest. He’d messed Blaine’s mind up completely and manipulated him into thinking he wasn’t good enough for anyone. Therapy only went so far and even Blaine knew that if he wasn’t so stupid he would have left Kurt before it got as bad as it did. And then maybe he’d have found a way back to Sebastian and begged him to give him another chance. But Blaine had been stupid and and wanting to tell Sebastian all of this stuff was unfair to the other man because even if Seb gave him a chance Blaine was so fucked up he wasn’t sure he knew how to do any of it anymore. Nor did he deserve the chance. His hands had gone clammy in his gloves thinking about his relationship with Kurt and he wanted to scream. The cheering and the music and the blood rushing in his ears was all too much.

Maybe Blaine was wrong and he was misreading everything. Maybe Sebastian wasn’t hurting and was only being polite to him because he felt sorry for him. Maybe someone had told him about the last few years of his pathetic life and Seb was taking pity on him. Maybe he and Hunter would go home later and laugh at him. He swallowed hard, biting into his lip hard enough to feel the pain, his breathing picking up as he really looked at Sebastian. No, Blaine wasn’t wrong. Sebastian was hurting, the pain was truly written all over his face. In the way he stood, in the way he tried too hard to sound casual. He didn’t need to try, casual was as easy for Sebastian Smythe as breathing. This was different. The man in front of him was feeling some of the same things as him and it made Blaine feel even worse about himself.

He wanted to run, he wanted to scream but most of all he wanted to walk over and kiss Sebastian. The words had left him with an even bigger ache than he had when he’d first spotted him that night and if he didn’t leave soon he’d embarrass himself not only in front of Sebastian but in front of the rest of his old friends. Some legend, huh? He took a deep breath and lifted his cup to his lips and finished his drink, trying to figure out how he could leave. But, as he was setting the empty cup on the ground and his feet were instantaneously carrying him towards the taller man and his fingers were shedding his gloves. And while Blaine knew he couldn’t kiss him, he wasn’t brave enough nor was it fair to Sebastian, he knew that he needed to at least touch him. Show him that he missed him and that he was happy- or as happy as he could feel right now, to see him.

He tucked his gloves into his coat pocket and stepped up to his person. His eyes were level with Seb’s shoulders and he couldn’t bring himself to look up for a moment. Finally, after what felt like hours but had probably only been seconds, Blaine lifted his eyes to meet Sebastian’s. The other man seemed frozen in time. Blaine’s left hand, shaky and freezing, came up to rest against the side of his face, his thumb softly brushing the little flecks of ash that had made a home on Seb’s cheek away. How easy this felt to him. Standing here with Sebastian’s snow cold face in his hands. It felt so good and Blaine’s lips twitched into an almost smile… And what was he doing?  All at once Blaine was overwhelmed. His breath hitched and his eyes were suddenly blurred either from the cold or tears either way it made him drop his hand and shake his head.

“I- I- fuck, um, you just h-had something…” He lifted his hands to show that Seb had something on his face but it seemed silly now and he shook his head, frustrated that he couldn’t get the words out. “I’m sorry. I should go. I have to work in the morning.” A lie. He ducked his head, feeling his anxiety overtake him and why he hadn't brought anything to calm himself down? He looked up, but not into Seb’s eyes, his arms wrapping around himself as he felt like a deer in the headlights. He nodded a goodbye to Hunter and shook his head at David. “I’m good David, I can get an Uber. Stay and have fun, okay?” He turned, head dipped and looked up at Seb through his lashes so that the other man couldn’t really see his face properly. “It was good to see you, Seb, I really hope you have a good night.” He swallowed hard and nodded, as if that would prove he meant it. “Happy New Year.”

Blaine turned on his heel and before David or anyone else could stop him he made his way into the crowded party. He kept his head ducked, bee lining it toward the front door, hoping to god that no one noticed him. He managed to avoid everyone’s hands but not their eyes as his name was called out over the music a few times by random voices, he nodded politely but didn’t stop. He hoped they’d understand and even if they didn’t it didn’t matter. It’d be months before they reached out to him again. The elevator was muggy as he rode down, which made the cold air that hit his heated face seem even more cold when he stepped out of the building.  There was already a text from David asking if he was okay, and Nick had sent a series of question marks. Blaine ignored them, his eyes blurry as he pulled up the Uber app and tipsily tried to type the address of the party into his phone.

Breathe in and back out again, Blaine. Count to ten. You’ve got this.

It wouldn’t be until he was home an hour later, tucked into his creaky bed and numb with a dose of sleepiness via an Ambien bottle and the whisky from the party that he’d allow himself to really feel the events of the night as the emotion and pills pulled him into sleep. His eyes would be red and his head would be pounding in the morning.

Sebastian’s POV:

Sebastian knew it was cliche but to him it suddenly felt like the world had stopped. Blaine was moving towards him, he was taking his gloves off, reaching for him. The snow fell slowly, slowly, slowly and his music-worn hand was on his cheek. He knew those hands so well once upon a time, knew the calluses at his fingertips, had felt them drag across his belly underneath his tee shirt, felt them on his lips. He blinked and stood silently as Blaine’s thumb wiped at a spot on his cold cheek. Sebastian became aware of Hunter and David watching, he could feel the hush that fell over their conversation. He wondered if Hunter regretted begging him to come. Hunter had stood by on the sidelines when the two of them were involved, and had tried to pick up the pieces at their abrupt end. Hunter got to, once again, witness Sebastian’s downfall.

Just as fast as Blaine’s rough hand cradled his cheek, it dropped back to his side and Sebastian felt colder than he had all evening. “Thanks for that.” He muttered the words mostly to himself as he rubbed his own hand over the spot. “Same to you.” Sebastian watched as Blaine hurried through the party. He noticed that he didn’t stop to say goodbye to anybody. Blaine had changed a lot in the past few years, that was for sure. Sebastian never thought he’d witness Blaine shy away from attention or the chance to work a room with his bright smile and easy going charm. 

Sebastian decided that he had had enough of the party and the reunions and took off as Hunter tried to walk over. His friend was talking but Sebastian had ignored him with a hand up in the air. Sebastian weaved through the bodies inside of the apartment and ignored everybody that called out to him, though it was only a few people since most knew better. He could feel Hunter following but didn’t turn around, instead he chose to basically throw himself down the stairs and run into a cab that was waiting for somebody else. Sebastian was faster than Hunter, he could lose him. He shoved a fifty towards the driver and gave him the address of a random club he knew he could score boys and free drinks and drugs at, “and hurry.” 

He lit a cigarette outside of the club and exhaled into the bitter air. He shoved his free hand in his pocket and let the nicotine wash over his nerves. Sebastian could hear the bass from the club reverberate through the air around him. He wasn’t going to cry. He wasn’t going to scream or send any shitty messages. He was going to finish this cigarette, get some guy to buy him a few rounds, maybe do a few lines in the bathroom, dance until his thighs burned in a wash of colorful lights, and end up in the bed of a guy with dark hair but not the right eyes. 

/fin.

[azritesx3]

“A Devil’s Love” Chapter 6: I Believe In You

Description: Chloe’s best friend is back, and Lucifer’s charm can’t seem to affect her either. Is she also a miracle child? Or something…more? [Story starts during S2 Ep4, Female Reader Insert]

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AN: Updated March 15, 2020 - Grammer AN: Updated July 21, 2020 - Grammar

Rating: Mature Warning[s]: Swearing, Gore

Show Timeline: Season 2 episode 12 and 13

Spotify Playlist /// AO3 Fanfiction Net Wattpad DeviantArt

Tag List: @ayanna-wild​, @anushay1998, @emiwrites3reads​, @i-am-canada-13​, @heart-of-pots-and-pans​, @tinyybiceps, @jessicarene99​, @lucifersnipnips​, @givemebooksorgivemedeath​, @sailor-earth-1

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A week has passed since you left your "nurse" to heal on your own.

Within the first two days, your body had completely healed. The rest of the five days you spent planning with Alice for the grand opening of the "Circle of Life Veterinary Clinic #2", and also helping out Chloe with any cases since it seems her partner was avoiding her.

When Chloe called you to say she couldn't find any evidence linking Charlotte Richards to the second bomb, thank God, she told you about her "talk" with Lucifer.

Apparently their talk consisted of Chloe explaining how she has been feeling and what made her kiss him, even after he declared all of his flaws to her. Lucifer said nothing, according to Chloe. He just listened intently, and when all was said and done he said he needed to think. Chloe agreed to give him time, but she started expressing her concerns to you after the third day of silence.

Honestly, you couldn't blame Lucifer. You hate talking about emotions too, and Lucifer didn't seem like the kind of guy who easily dealt with this kind of stuff. It's probably why he has a therapist.

However, Lucifer hadn't been completely silent this week. He did text you every day. First, it was just to make sure you were doing well healing, then it just became friendly chatter. You did question him on why he was giving Chloe the silent treatment. You expected him to ignore the question. Instead he shocked you by answering.

What if it's not real?

It looks real to me, Lucifer, and to others.

Yes, well, I'm starting to think that the Detective is no longer immune to me. She has been with me too much and now my charm is coming off on her. She might even be no longer immune to my power...It'll probably happen to you too.

...uh, what? :confusedemoji:

Ah. Never mind, darling. So, not missing my shower, yet? It sure misses you. :devilemoji:

And, that was that. You didn't dare tell Chloe about it, one because she'd be just as confused as you, and two she really didn't need to get the wrong idea about that shower comment.

Today's the day of the grand opening, and everything is going smoothly. Your new workers are happily greeting the pets as well as the owners while handing out coupons, pamphlets on the pet health care, and answering any questions. Alice sits at a booth with a couple of the receptionists taking down new client info and signing up those interested in the insurance. You stand in front of the big red ribbon, talking to the press and answering questions while you wait for the time to tick to 9 am.

Your phone starts ringing Chloe's tone. You excuse yourself and head inside your clinic to answer.

"What's up, Chlo?"

"Hey, Earth. I'm sorry to bother you, but I need you to do something."

You love your BFF, really you do, but you can't cancel this opening. Not only would it be embarrassing, but you were starting to run low on cash, "No problem, so long as I can do it over the phone."

"Don't worry, I know this opening is important to you." You hear her sigh, "This case I'm currently on is...it's bad, Earth. I'm thinking psychopathic bad. Premeditated murder."

Oh shit, "Damn, Chloe. Look if you need me I'll-"

"No no. Focus on your opening today. If I don't get this solved today maybe you can help me tomorrow."

"The opening isn't all day, Chloe. I'll help as soon as it's over."

"You're going to have a lot of first patient paperwork. Take this day for that. Look, I'm calling to ask you to talk to Lucifer."

"He still isn't talking to you?" Yes, you do agree with him needing time because emotions suck, but now it feels like he's stonewalling your friend.

"No. Ella's too busy with this case right now, and I know Lucifer won't even consider listening to Dan. I'm hoping he'll listen to you."

"Alright, Chlo. I'll get your partner back to you."

"Thank you, Earth." You can just feel the tension release from her over the phone, "Tell him to meet me at the Malibu State University so I can catch him up on the case."

"You got it." You hang up and see the time is 8:50 am. You sigh and click on Lucifer's contact number.

Time to come out of hiding you Devil.

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"Lucifer." Linda looks at her Devil patient like a stern mother rather than his therapist at the moment, "You're stalling."

Lucifer finishes his glass of water and leans back on the couch, "I don't know what you're talking about, Doctor."

"You do, Lucifer." Linda's voice becomes stern and matter of factly, "You and Chloe finally reach a point in your relationship where it can move romantically, but after the kiss, you left. After Chloe confesses to you, you push her away. You won't even talk to her, but instead, talk to someone else."

Lucifer shifts on the couch, slightly uncomfortable with where this conversation was going.

"Lucifer." Linda's able to get his eyes to stay on hers, "Who is Earth to you? How do you feel about her?"

"I don't know what you want me to say, Doctor." Lucifer is agitated now, "K9 is just a human who's fun to be around."

"She's also another human woman who is immune to your charms. Another human who you can't get to reveal their desires." Linda eyes her patient carefully.

Lucifer clearly fidgets on the couch. He doesn't speak. Instead, he looks to the window.

"I want you to tell me how you felt when you first met Chloe, to how you felt meeting Earth." Linda interlaces her fingers and rests them on her crossed knees. She waits patiently for his reply.

"Well, after the first day with the Detective I felt that she was a puzzle to solve." Lucifer looks at his therapist with a little smirk, "The first human woman to be completely immune to my charms and power. She's a puzzle and I feel a...a connection to her. A need to solve her, to watch her and be around her."

"Mhmm," Linda nods, "and Earth?"

"K9?" Lucifer's smirk forms into a smile. He gives a light chuckle, "From day one I thought of her as a sassy minx, didn't even care that she wasn't attracted to me. Truthfully, I would be too focused on making sure I had a comeback ready for whenever we'd pass each other in the precinct." His eyes start to look far away, lost in memories.

"That real estate case was the first time we talked more than just in passing. I found that we both enjoy many of the same things and we share common views on various topics. I just-" Lucifer stops.

Linda urges him on, "You have to continue, Lucifer. How do you feel around her?"

"I feel...comfortable with her. I have fun with her, enjoy spending time with her. She doesn't believe in me being the Devil either, but I feel like she tolerates it better." His mind drifts to how you reacted to seeing his scars.

"Maybe there's a reason as to why…" Lucifer whispers this thought to himself.

"Lucifer, I see these two types of romantic feelings often." Linda didn't hear his comment about you, "There's one where someone claims that they feel a connection with the other, which is usually referred to as 'soulmates'-" Lucifer laughs.

"And," Linda continues, "There's the 'normal'. When two people meet and feel nothing until they get to know each other more. Chloe is your 'connection' and Earth is your 'normal'."

"So, which one is the correct choice?" Lucifer's eyes plead to her, "I don't want to mess this up!"

Linda's heart breaks for him, "I can't answer that for you, Lucifer. What you need to do is find an answer to this question," Linda leans forward:

"If Earth never came back, had never entered the picture, would you still be giving Chloe the cold shoulder?"

Linda Martin has never seen a person look as lost as Lucifer Morningstar right now.

"I…" Lucifer's phone starts playing "Who Let The Dogs Out". It's the ringtone you set for yourself after you showed him how to give everyone their own personal alerts.

"It's K9, Doctor. She doesn't usually call-"

"It's ok, Lucifer." Linda gives him a knowing smile, "Our time is up anyways."

Lucifer nods a farewell to her and leaves her office, "K9! To what do I owe the pleasure of having a phone call from you?" Lucifer's smiling ear to ear as he walks out of the building and to his car.

"Chloe called me. Again." You sound annoyed.

His smile falls, "Oh…"

"Look, Lucifer. I get it ok? Feelings are a pain in the ass to deal with, but enough is enough. You're really starting to hurt my best friend and you know I won't stand for it."

Lucifer sighs, "I understand, K9. I just-"

"Lucifer, this call wasn't about you. Chloe needs her partner back."

Lucifer pauses in his walk hearing the worry in your voice. He stands a few feet away from his corvette, "What's wrong?"

"There's a new case and it," you sigh, "it doesn't sound good, Lucifer. This guy is bad, really bad. I can't be there for her today and I don't want her to get hurt." Lucifer doesn't reply right away, and that worries you.

"Lucifer. Chloe isn't going to ask you about anything, ok? She's too focused on stopping this guy. She can't do it without her partner."

Partner...that's right. I'm the Detective's partner, Lucifer thought.

"Well, I suppose I can't leave my partner hanging," Lucifer smirks and finishes the walk to his car.

"No, you can't." Lucifer can tell you are most likely smirking as well, "Not anymore anyway. It's really a dick move."

"Yes, yes." Lucifer sits in his car and starts it up, "Now, where does my partner need me?"

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The grand opening was a huge success! The clinic has plenty of clients to start off with, and more would surely come when people learned just how well of a veterinarian you are.

You sent your workers home to relax for the first official workday tomorrow. Currently, you and Alice are organizing all the new client paperwork in their respective folders for your receptionists.

But you're starting to have a really hard time focusing on the task. Chloe has been giving you hourly updates on the case, and each new piece of information was making you more and more concerned.

This is no ordinary killer.

Alice noticed you starting to slow down and told you she could handle the rest. Normally you would disagree with her, but this case was one a Captain of any department shouldn't avoid. You give her thanks in a hug then fly out the door and into your new car, courtesy of the police heads.

As you drive to the precinct you call Chloe to let her know you're free. She tells you that she and Lucifer are heading to a college party where the next poison victim, Ashley, was currently at. She gives you the address of the second victim, Dr. Gwendolyn Scott, and tells you Dan is currently there with her to make sure she doesn't do this guy's bidding.

When you arrive at the precinct you tell your second, Christopher Miller, to round up a small team and three K9's, and that one of the K9's has to be the new pup, Buster, along with his partner, Jessica Blanch. As he left to do as you ask you go into the female locker room and change into your K9 uniform. When you come out you tell your team the situation, and give them the address to Dr. Scott's house. You couldn't send any with Chloe as much as you wanted to. It would blow her cover at that party.

You arrive at the house and station your men and two of the K9's around the outside of the home. You tell Blanch that she and Buster are to guard the inside.

"Hey, Dan." You approach Detective Dan Espinoza, or as you liked to refer to Lucifer's nickname for him "Detective Douche".

"Hey, Earth! I'm glad you could join in. This guy is…"

"Yeah...it was hard for me to focus during the opening knowing that a person like this was out here." You cross your arms to hide the slight shiver that ran through you.

"That's right, your next clinic! Did everything go well?"

"Yup, better than I expected honestly."

"Well believe it or not, I've heard talk around here about the 'amazing Veterinarian Earth on the east coast'." He winks friendly at you.

"Oh really?" You give him a laugh and a sarcastic look.

"Yeah! I'd overhear convos from new K9 recruits about you. The look on their faces when I told them you used to work here was priceless."

"So that's why I got a whole lot of star-struck eyes when I came back." You and him both share light laughter, "So," you didn't want to, but this friendly chatter had to end, "where's Dr. Scott?"

Dan takes a sidestep and motions with his head behind him. You see a clear line of sight of the Doctor sitting in a formal living room. Blanch is introducing herself and asking permission to roam her home. You see Dr. Scott give a warm smile to her and a nod of approval while she scratches Buster's head.

"How's she doing?" You whisper to Dan.

"As good as one can be when they know they're in charge of someone's life." Dan sighs solemnly.

"Yeah…"

Dan's phone rings and he excuses himself. You walk over to Dr. Scott and introduce yourself, "Hello, Dr. Scott. I'm Earth, Captain of the K9 unit." You hold out your hand and she shakes it. Her palms are sweaty from nerves.

"Hello, Captain. One of your crew just told me how well you are at your job." She smiles at you.

"Aw, Blanch is just a suck-up." You give her a wink and she actually manages a laugh, "You doing alright Doc?"

She sighs, "Honestly, no. I just keep thinking...what if I don't do as this guy requests? Would I really be ok knowing that my decision to say no would end a young girl's life?"

"Do you mind if I watch the video ma'am?" She shakes her head and stands to walk to her desk. She pulls up the email with the video and plays it for you as she sits back in her chair.

This guy...with his dumb mask and "superior" tone of voice made your skin crawl. He was telling the Doctor that in order to receive the antidote to cure Miss. Ashley, she had to destroy her right hand.

God...Why do people like this exist?

The video ends as soon as Dan walks into the room, "Detective Decker called me ma'am." He's speaking to Dr. Scott, "Her and her partner found Ashley at the party, but unfortunately it looks as though she's already been poisoned."

You watch as the Doctor visibly slumps in distraught, "What should I do, Detective?"

"Don't do anything, Doctor. Ashley is at the hospital now and the doctors are working on an antidote. I'm sure they'll make it in time."

Dr. Scott forms a look on her face that mimics how you were feeling.

They won't be able to make it.

Dan leaves the room. You shut off the computer.

"Captain, what should I do? What would you do?"

You don't answer.

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A few hours pass before Dan receives another call from Chloe.

It's not good news.

"She doesn't have much time left, Dan. The Doctors at the hospital can't figure out the antidote."

"Then it is specially made," Dan replies, his face is grim. You stand next to him to hear the conversation.

Unfortunately, Dr. Scott is close enough as well. She heard.

While Dan is still on the phone you hear a rattling noise. You left his side to investigate, and are horrified by the display that's about to happen in the kitchen.

"GWENDOLYN!" You yell the Doctor's name and hold your hands up. When Dan hears you yell he hangs up on Chloe and runs to you, and holds his hands up.

Dr. Gwendolyn Scott stands in front of her kitchen sink. The garbage disposal is running and her right hand is hovering over the opening.

"Dr. Scott, don't do this." Dan pleads with her. You can't speak.

"If I don't do this, Detective, an innocent woman dies. How can I compare my hand to her life."

"Doctor-" Dan starts, but it's too late.

Doctor Gwendolyn Scott shoves her hand into the garbage disposal. You want to vomit as you hear her scream and see blood and bits of flesh erupt from the sink.

Doctor Gwendolyn Scott is a hero.

Dan runs to her, as well as Blanch who hears her screams. You stand still, but find your voice long enough to call for a medic dispatch and Chloe.

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Chloe and Lucifer arrive shortly after the medics have Dr. Scott on a gurney and finish bandaging her ruined hand. The two of them talk with her, Dan steps outside to get air after that gruesome scene, and you-

You're still standing in the same spot. Your focus entirely on the blood and bits of brown skin that cling to the countertop and sink.

This guy is a monster.

"And I thought you looked fit before, but now." You choke on air as your body jumps out of your skin. You whirl around and see Lucifer standing behind you with a hungry look.

"You look delicious in uniform, K9. You should wear it more often."

"I only wear this on important cases, and did you really have to use the word 'delicious' in this scenario?" You give him dagger eyes. You hold your chest to breathe evenly again.

"Hmm." Lucifer looks at the carnage behind you, "Good point." He smiles down at you, "But at least I got you to stop looking at it."

You look up at him, and can't help the tug at your heart. A corner of your mouth lifts slightly, "Yeah...thanks."

Lucifer just continues to smile at you, but now there's a twinkle in his eye.

"So," you cross your arms and smile fully at him, "How's it feel being back with your partner?"

"It was bloody weird." His sheer bluntness made both your eyebrows go up.

"Only at first though. Thankfully, the Detective seems to be back to her 'normal'." Lucifer plays with his cufflinks and side glances in Chloe's direction.

"What happened?"

"She slapped my bum, made inappropriate jokes over a dead body, and suggested making out in the library."

You burst into laughter.

"It's not funny! It was bloody terrifying!" Lucifer complains.

"She was just trying to be more like you, Lucifer." You manage to choke out in your laughter, "Are you saying you're not attracted to yourself?"

"Not if it's the Detective trying to roleplay as me." He visibly shivers and that makes you laugh even more.

The sound of your K9s barking outside the front door immediately cuts off your laughter. Captain mode takes over and you stride away from Lucifer and out the front door to see what was going on. As you pass by Chloe she rests her hand on her holstered gun and gives you a nod.

Miller has a delivery man stopped on the walkway. When you walk over the man says he has a delivery for Doctor Gwendolyn Scott. You question him on who gave him the package, but the man says it just showed up in his pile of runs.

You take the package from him and tell Miller to take him to the station to get an official statement. You go back inside and hand it over to Chloe.

You stand on the other side of the Doctor's gurney, and Lucifer chooses to stand next to you as Chloe unravels the contents.

She looks up and stares at the three of you.

"It's the antidote."

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

Dan and Chloe drove to the hospital to give Ashley the antidote before it was too late. Lucifer decided to stay with you to "help" you clear out the Doctor's house and wait for the cleaning crew to finish in her kitchen. You noticed Chloe giving him a "look" when he chose to stay behind. You question him about it and he just shrugs saying, "Hospitals are dreadful places."

As soon as the cleaning crew finished Chloe called you saying to come to the precinct ASAP with Lucifer. Her and Dan were able to get a link between Ashley and the first poisoned victim.

"I had a feeling this case would be an all-nighter." You tell Lucifer as you hang up and you both walk to your car.

"No rest for the wicked, darling." Lucifer smiles devilishly at you. You smile back.

As you two walk into the precinct, you give Alice an early morning text update. You tell her you most likely won't be able to make it in the clinic for the first day. Surprising you, she texts back saying "Good thing there are no major surgeries :winkieface:".

You hate not being at your clinic for the first official day. You and Alice interviewed the workers and other veterinarians extensively, but you always like working the first couple of days with them to make sure they were good. Thank God you have Alice, who you trust wholeheartedly.

You and Lucifer walk into Ella's lab where Dan and Chloe are waiting. You notice that look again on Chloe when Lucifer stays near you while Ella explains the new information.

Dan and Chloe were able to find out from Ashley that she had received a flu shot earlier in the day. Ella was able to find out that the first victim also got the flu shot the same day he was poisoned. Thanks to the information Ashley gave and what Ella could dig up, both students received their shots by Dr. Jason Carlisle.

"Dr. Jason Carlisle?" Dan says in shock.

"You know him?" Chloe questions.

"I know of him. Here," Dan goes to the computer in the room and pulls up traffic security footage. You all watch as this Dr. Jason Carlisle crawls out of a turned over vehicle. In the footage, you can see the driver of the vehicle asking the Doctor for help, but instead the Doctor grabs his briefcase and runs away as the vehicle explodes, killing the driver.

"Hmph. Some doctor." You cross your arms and shake your head at the actions on the video.

"Yeah. After this was televised Dr. Carlise lost his medical license and all respect from his peers." Dan replies.

"He's probably the one responsible for creating these poisons and their unique antidotes." Ella points out.

"He's doing this to show people how he felt he had no choice," Chloe says.

Lucifer scoffs, "Everyone has a bloody choice."

"So, how do we find this guy?" You ask the room.

"Attack his ego." Lucifer says and everyone looks at him, "I know his type. Attack his precious ego and he'll make himself known."

"That's the stupidest thing-" Dan starts but Chloe leaves the lab in a flash and sits at her desk. Everyone, but Ella, follows the Detective and sees that she's pulled up an email and is writing to Dr. Carlise.

Dan is trying to get Chloe to stop, but you and Lucifer are encouraging her. Both of you tell her various ego-tripping things to write, and even though Dan tries to stop her, Chloe hits send.

In less than thirty seconds she receives a reply, and it's a video call. She opens it up and all four of you stare at the man with the mask. Chloe tells him we know who he really is and why he's doing this. The Doctor removes his mask and explains his experiment and how the police presence in Doctor Scott's household "made" her choose to destroy her hand.

You call him out on his bullshit, receiving a low high five from Lucifer, and how Dr. Scott was planning on destroying her hand from the start. Dr. Carlise doesn't believe you and pans the camera to show you all how he already has another "experiment" happening as we speak. He explains the circumstance and ends the call.

Chloe and Ella do quick work in tracing the call to a hospital that Dr. Carlise was rivals of. Chloe pulls Lucifer by the arm to get him to follow and after a look from you, he obliges.

She's your partner. Protect her.

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

"This case is now top number one of the worst cases I've been on." Chloe flops down on her couch next to you with a full glass of wine in hand.

Chloe asked you to come to her place to unwind after the hell this case has been. You agreed because you could tell she needed to vent.

She starts talking about the situation that happened over at the hospital Dr. Carlise was holed up in. She talks about how she and Lucifer had to watch helplessly as the Doctor dropped poisonous gas onto the floor, making her and Lucifer unable to just break into the room to save the two students. She talks about her fear of leaving Lucifer alone in that situation in order to catch the Doctor.

She downs her drink quickly after talking about watching the Doctor slit his own throat in front of her. How she watched the life leave his eyes and neck.

But then, without the wine's help, she becomes giddy and warm. She tells you about how happy and relieved and thankful she was when she saw Lucifer step out of the building completely unharmed. She didn't even think to question him about it.

"I immediately hugged him and said how we do make an amazing team." She says with a far off gaze to her empty glass. She then looks at you with a smile and wet eyes, "He said 'This is real, isn't it?", and ...well."

"It's official now?"

"Yeah."

"That's wonderful, Chlo!" You pull your BFF into an immediate hug while ignoring whatever that feeling was in your chest. She laughs while holding back tears, and hugs you back. You two talk about other things for a while, then Chloe excuses herself to the bathroom.

You become concerned after ten minutes of her absence.

"Chloe? You ok?" You get up from the couch and go up to her room. You knock on the open door.

"I...I don't know…Earth!" You push into Chloe's room and into her bathroom at the sound of her voice. She's standing in front of her sink, which has piles of bloody tissues in it.

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

"DETECTIVE!"

Lucifer Morningstar storms into Chloe Decker's apartment furiously. He looks around the kitchen and living room to see she wasn't there. A noise from above gives him a direction.

"DETECTIVE! DID YOU KNOW?!" Lucifer yells as he storms upstairs.

"THIS WHOLE BLOODY TIME, DID YOU KNOW?!" Lucifer stomps into her room and sees the bathroom door open.

"DETEC-" Lucifer stops when he sees you holding Chloe by the shoulders.

You look at him, wide-eyed and terrified, "Lucifer…"

"What-"

"Lucifer," Chloe speaks now in a garbled tone. You allow her to turn around to face her partner.

Lucifer immediately steps into Chloe's personal space at the sight of her red eyes and bloody nose.

Chloe cries, "It won't stop."

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

You stand inside Ella's lab, waiting for the energetic little ball of happiness to come in. You feel bad asking Ella to come in this late at night and after just finishing the last case, but Ella told you not to worry. An emergency is an emergency and it's her job.

Your fingers tap rhythmically on the table in stress. Seeing your BFF being poisoned by something that no one can make an antidote for, except the guy who just committed suicide, really terrifies you. At least, with the help of Lucifer, you were able to convince Chloe to go to the hospital instead of here.

You hear the door open and look up expecting to see Ella. Instead, your heart drops at the sight of Lucifer and the woman who should be in the fucking hospital.

"Why the fuck-"

"Calm down, Earth." Chloe holds up her hands to you, "I told him to bring me here."

"Yes, much to my disapproval," Lucifer mutters.

"Chloe-"

"You know me, Earth! I can't just sit by and do nothing when I know I can help!" Chloe says.

"But for how long?!" You move to stand right in front of her, "Chloe, you exerting yourself could make this thing spread faster! We already only have twenty hours if that!"

"I know, Earth!" Chloe can feel Lucifer's hand on the small of her back. She takes deep breaths to calm herself, "I know. Look, I'll be careful, and if it gets too much I swear I'll go to the hospital. But, I need to do something."

You just cross your arms and head back to the table. Ella shows up and Chloe gives her a rundown on the situation without telling the poor girl who the real victim was. Ella explains how they did find some poison on the Doctor's body, but the antidote that went with it had been destroyed. Chloe, Lucifer, and you all share a look.

Then some man you've never seen before is calling Lucifer's name and Lucifer pulls the man into the interrogation room. Seeing as how Ella and Chloe didn't seem to question the strange commotion, you decide not to say anything. Lucifer is a strange guy after all.

Ella starts listing out all the beginning signs of the poison, which makes Chloe turn paler and paler. To derail the talk of it you ask if anyone else could have access to the antidote formula. Ella didn't believe so, but Chloe pops in with the hope that maybe the guy who smuggled the stuff might know something. She didn't believe the Doctor would trust that stuff to be handled by just anyone.

She leaves the room to get Lucifer, but when you offer your assistance she says she wants you to stay with Ella, and eventually Dan, to help think up an antidote. Your heart felt strange when you saw her and Lucifer leave the building, with him being closer to her than usual.

She's dying. They're together. You told him to protect her.

You wipe the feeling away and turn to Ella. This was Chloe who was dying, and you need everyone to be working at their best.

You tell Ella the truth.

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

Lucifer and Chloe have been gone for about an hour and a half now. Dan showed up not too long after the two left and you, him, and Ella have been working together to try to at least figure out all the ingredients for the antidote.

Lucifer's ringtone starts playing on your phone and you answer it.

"Lucifer-"

"She fainted, K9." He sounds scared. You never imagined hearing Lucifer Morningstar sound scared, "I'm taking her to the hospital now."

"Alright, I'll be right there." You hang up and look up to Dan.

"Dan. Get Trixie."

He didn't even have to ask what for. He was out the door in a flash. Ella told you she'd keep working and to give Chloe her love. You nod and head out the door as fast as Dan did.

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

The early morning sun has now risen. Chloe now only has about ten hours left.

You sit in Chloe's room chatting with her about the situation. When you see Lucifer standing at the window you get up and give Chloe a hug. You leave the room and watch from a distance the two of them talk.

You hear Dan and Trixie sign in at the desk behind you, and Lucifer leaves the room just as the ex-husband and daughter come to the door. You notice Dan give Lucifer a look of disapproval before entering the room, and one of your hand’s balls into a fist in your crossed arms.

One of the reasons I dislike that guy. He always puts the blame on someone else.

"I'm sorry." The sound of Lucifer's distress pulls you from your thoughts. You walk to stand in front of him, arms still crossed.

"What for?"

"I didn't protect her. Couldn't protect her. I thought I had by sending her after him, but-" Lucifer starts spilling out. You unfold your arms and place a strong hand on one of his arms, stopping him.

"Lucifer." You stare up at him, "This wasn't your fault. I don't blame you. I blame the bastard of a Doctor who stabbed her with the needle." You let go of him and step to his side so you could watch the tragic family scene through the window.

"I hope you're right about there being a Hell, and I hope he's being tortured as we speak."

"He is, darling. Trust me." Lucifer turns around to watch the scene with you.

"Good. Wish I was the one torturing him, though." You sigh, shoulders slumped, "I'm going to get one of my K9s and just chill here. If she…" you choke up but swallow it, "I'll be here if you need me." You give Lucifer a pat on the shoulder and turn to leave.

"K9."

You stop a few feet from the exit door. You turn your body to face him and your heart breaks at the emotion on his face.

"I promise you, I will get the antidote." Lucifer's tone was serious, but his eyes looked wet. Yet...you felt drawn to him. You could tell he meant what he said.

He always tells the truth.

Unable to contain it any more, tears fall down your face. You run to him and wrap your arms around his neck. You stand on your tiptoes in order to hug him fully.

You're surprised that he doesn't even hesitate to hug you back. He always hesitates when someone hugs him.

"I trust you, Lucifer." You pull him even closer, and only feel slightly ashamed for probably ruining his suit jacket, "I believe in you."

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

Chloe Decker now only has about three hours left.

And you could do nothing.

Lucifer had promised to save her, to somehow get the antidote formula. You had no clue how he could get it, or why you seemed to trust him. You haven't seen him since you hugged him. You've tried texting him to find out how it was going, but he didn't reply. So now you were concerned for his safety because he always replied.

Dan and Ella were having a hell of a time just trying to get the ingredients. Ella texted you not too long ago saying that they're just missing one more, and she thinks she knows where to get it.

And what are you doing? You're standing outside the doors to the lobby area. If you sit in the lobby you'd be looking too much into Chloe's room window, and from the talk of the doctors that were walking by it didn't sound like she was doing too good.

You can't watch your best friend deteriorate so fast in front of your eyes. Besides that, you feel like you would get in Trixie's way. She hasn't left her mother's side since she arrived.

You hear Buster whine, and you scratch his head absentmindedly. When you left Lucifer you went to the precinct to grab the first K9 you saw. For protection for Chloe, and comfort for you. You love your dogs.

Buster nudges his nose into your palm. You look down at him.

"What is it, bud?"

He whines some more.

Sorry…out…

"It’s not a problem, bud. I could use some fresh air anyways."

You take Buster to the small green area across the street from the hospital. You lean up against a tree and look up to the sky. You take a deep breath in of city air, and can't help but imagine Chloe never taking a breath again. Never growing old or seeing Trixie grow into a wonderfully strong woman. Never playing with possible grandchildren. Never being happy with Lucifer--

You release the breath, "Well, if Heaven's real then she'll be with her dad at least."

You look back to find Buster, "Come on boy." He trots to you and you both walk back across the street and into the hospital.

"Captain!"

You see one of the hospital security guards run to you, "The patient, Chloe Decker, has to move to another room, but there's a man who's blocking the way! He's pushed aside every one of us!"

You nod to the guard and head for the stairwell. You and Buster run up four flights and push through the lobby door.

You watch as two more security guards get tossed aside like dolls back into the lobby. You stride forward, gun aimed and Buster between your legs, "HANDS UP, NOW!"

The man turns around. It's the same man that called for Lucifer in the precinct.

You squint at him suspiciously, "Who are you?!" Buster growls beneath you.

The man looks surprised, "So you're Earth, or well, I guess I should be saying K9."

You grip your gun harder. Buster feels you tense up and walks a bit closer to the man, teeth-baring, "Who the hell are you?!"

It's like he just realized now what kind of predicament he's in, "I'm sorry," he holds his hands up to you, "I'm Amenadiel, Lucifer's brother."

You snort.

"Captain! He won't let me get my patient to a more appropriate room!" The doctor yells from behind Amenadiel.

"Well, as Lucifer's supposed brother, you should know he wouldn't appreciate someone getting in the way of saving Chloe's life." You keep your aim trained on Amenadiel’s chest.

"I do know that, and that's why I can't let Chloe leave this room."

Now you're confused, "Why?"

"Lucifer is getting the formula as we speak, but Chloe needs to stay right here."

"Why?"

Amenadiel shakes his head, "You won't believe me. Look," he puts his hands down and takes a step towards you. You stand your ground and Buster barks at him in warning, "Do you trust Lucifer?"

You’re quiet for a beat. You carefully study this "brother", "I do."

"Then please, do not allow Chloe to leave here." You can hear the pleading in his voice. He wants you to believe him.

You look over his shoulder to see Chloe becoming paler in her bed. She starts to shake from a seizure and the doctor's nurses hold her down.

The doctor looks at you, "Please! She needs help!"

You look between her, Amenadiel, and Chloe.

I trust you, Lucifer. I believe in you.

You release air through your nose and holster your gun. You order Buster to guard the door and not let anyone in or out. You stand next to Amenadiel, "I know she does, Doctor." You cross your arms and stand firm.

Unbeknownst to you, Amenadiel looks at you with interest.

"Chloe Decker is not leaving this room until Lucifer Morningstar returns with the formula."

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

You aren't a rogue cop for long.

You feel somebody grip your shoulder from behind. You whirl around ready to punch whoever it was that got past Buster, but your fists immediately turn into hands of support.

“Lucifer!”

He looks like he just came back from the dead. His clothes are completely disheveled and he's sweating profusely. He holds onto your shoulders tightly and you keep him upright by his underarms with the help of Amenadiel.

He mutters out the formula to the doctor and she runs off to make it with the ingredients Ella dropped off not too long ago. You and Amenadiel move him to a chair in the room, but he refuses to sit and instead leans against the wall. Amenadiel leaves quickly, and you’re left “alone” with Lucifer.

“Lucifer…” You start to choke up again. He looks so awful and it’s breaking you.

What did he do?

“Lucifer.” You can’t stop the tears again. You let them fall free while you use both hands to hold onto his face. You wipe the sweat from his brow and try to straighten his hair, “Are you ok?”

“She’ll be ok now,” he breathes out. He looks over at Chloe, “That’s all that matters.”

“No, Lucifer. That’s not all that matters.” He looks down at you, eyes filled with confusion.

He’s waiting for you to say something, but you’re too choked up on emotion.

I hate emotions, too.

You just wrap your arms around his neck like the first hug, except this one was different. Tighter, different emotions unspoken. He does hesitate on this hug, but eventually his arms find their way around your waist and he holds on tight.

He rests his head on your shoulder, “Earth…” he breathes on your neck.

You remove your head from his shoulder and he does the same from yours. You both stare into each other's eyes deeply. One of his arms snakes it’s way up your back so his hand can hold the back of your head. Your faces start to come closer together, but you can’t tell if he’s doing it or you, or maybe both.

“I have it!” You both blink at each other, seeming to wake up from whatever force was pulling you both. You both look to the side to see the doctor holding a syringe. A nurse puts a tube inside Chloe’s vein and the doctor rushes over. You twist around in Lucifer’s arms so that your back is to him.

You expected him to remove his hands, but instead he keeps one arm around your waist while the other hangs onto the wall. You feel him tug you closer as you two watch Chloe’s vital signs fall back to normal.

“It worked! She’s going to make it!” The doctor says happily. You smile at Chloe as new tears fall from your eyes.

You didn’t see Lucifer’s face turn grim.

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

Lucifer was with Chloe when she first woke up. The two talk briefly before he leaves and tells everyone in the lobby that she’s awake now. He watches as Ella, Dan, Trixie, and you rush into the room. He looks from the window all of you smiling, laughing and hugging Chloe.

He puts his hands in his pockets and stands firm. After one last look at you, he leaves.

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

Three days have passed since Chloe’s poisoning. She had to stay in the hospital for the rest of that day just to ease the doctor's mind that she really was cured. You stayed with her that day along with everyone else.

Except for Lucifer. After you greeted Chloe from waking up you left the room to look for him, but the receptionist said he had left. You thought nothing of it. He had looked to have a rough day after all.

But after twenty-four hours of zero response you started getting worried. Chloe kept asking for him and nobody, including yourself and Maze, seemed to be able to get a hold of him.

In present time you're at your clinic. It's past 9 pm and everyone went home for the day. You stayed behind to lock up and look at patient reports for the day. You finish putting the reports away and counting the money. Just as you lock the front door Chloe’s ringtone went off.

“Chloe, you alright?” You answer as you get into your car.

“He’s gone, Earth.” She’s trying to keep from crying, “I’m at his penthouse and he’s...everything’s covered in sheets.” Chloe can't hold the tears in any longer.

“He’s gone!”

[cgirat]

i’m not always proud

brain big so this is a bandersnatch (2018) and pride (2014) crossover fic purely because theyre both set in the 80s and i think that joe & stefan would be a sweet couple. title is from thos moser by gupi ft fraxiom because im like that

joe cooper/stefan butler

Pride 1985. Joe marches proudly; lesbians and gays do support the miners, it's an act of solidarity as they're both treated unfairly by the government and the police. It's the best feeling being proud of who he is because for so long he'd hidden it for fear of how his family might look at him, he was out to practically everyone but the people that were meant to be closest to him. Within just a few months a lot has changed, he's moved in with Stephanie, he's working at a café near Gay's the Word, the pastry chef likes him enough they Joe gets to help out sometimes and the activism is going well so life is really looking up. It's a new way of living and he's getting used to it and overall he's happy with it.

Love does not seem to be something that's going to happen for Joe. He deals with that as best as he can, he doesn't try and force anything, if he goes to the bars and a man there wants him he's okay to make out. But no one asks him out or seems to be looking for commitment, he gets it they're young and he's still early into adulthood so it's whatever.

A young man seems to be loitering after the march is over with his hands in his pockets, eyes wide open and lips set in a straight line. Joe sees him across the street while Steph's abandoned him for some goth lesbian and they make eye contact for a brief moment before he looks away. Joe finds him a weird kind of beautiful, something about him is sharp and Joe doesn't look away. He wouldn't have crossed the street towards the man if he hasn't looked back at Joe. Pride is as good a time as any to be friendly.

Close up the man is shorter than Joe. He's still weirdly handsome at this distance and his dark hair and green eyes are intriguing.

"Did you have fun at the march today?"

The dude looks startled if wide eyes are anything to go by. "Uhhh, well, I didn't catch much of it, I was just on my way back home, actually."

"Oh cool, you should come to next year's march it'll be bigger and better hopefully." Joe smiles politely, getting the cue that the dudes not like him and he's prepared to turn around until he hears him speak again.

"Stefan. Me, uh. I'm Stefan." Stefan falls over his words, smiling sheepishly, revealing rows of shark teeth. His smile is endearing. He puts his hand out for Joe to shake.

"I'm Joe." he accepts Stefan's hand in a shake and Joe notes that his hand is warm but his shake isn't very confident.

They smile at each other for a bit even though it's awkward when Stefan releases Joe's hand and his own retreats to the pockets of his jacket.

"Well if you're not in a rush home feel free to come to our post pride party. It's at Gay's the Word; last years was good so hopefully, this year will be too."

Stefan smiles again. It's toothy and contagious.

They spend the rest of the night getting to know each other. Stefan isn't as closed off as Joe was a year ago, he talks about work and geeks out over computers and video games. He works at Tuckersoft and has already developed a "choose your own adventure" game based off of a book that received decent reviews. Joe thinks he's probably being modest. When he talks about it it seems very complicated and Joe instantly knows that Stefan is way smarter than he'll ever be because he knows smart, educated people things. It's like looking into the past, Stefan is 20 and he's closeted? Straight? Joe doesn't want to ask as it's none of his business no matter how much he wants to kiss him a little.

Joe and Stefan walk arm in arm to the bus stop and stay linked there while waiting. Stefan is a little drunk and so he talks a lot but Joe welcomes it. Joe's laughing at Stefan who can't seem to get over the fact that Joe's nickname is so shit.

"Bromley, of all the town's to be named after-"

"Even now I wonder if it's meant to be cute or if they're taking the piss."

Stefan huffs out a laugh, "I'm thankfully uninteresting so I don't have any nicknames." He pauses. "Having two friends helps as well, one of them is my dad but he's not the nicknaming type."

"It's lonely in the office?"

"Very." Stefan rests his head on the glass of the bus shelter. "Especially today, I wasn't even supposed to be in but my therapist forgot to tell me that she'd moved my appointment to Tuesday so I went there instead. I bet she was at the march today." he pauses for a moment. "Why does she even do appointments on Saturdays? Overworking is my thing."

Joe can't take his eyes away from Stefan's face. His eyes are closed and his face glows in the orange of the street lights.

"She's a lesbian?" He may be curious but whatever Stefan goes to therapy for is none of his business. He wants to know, though, one day.

"I'm not sure, I didn't ask, but you know when you can kinda just tell?"

Joe gulps. "I didn't meet a lesbian until my 20th birthday."

Stefan laughs, eyes opening and staring at Joe incredulously. "Wow, you were incredible sheltered. Can't you just tell? Like Colin's girlfriend, I don't think she's a lesbian because she's dating him but something about her isn't.... Normal."

It's past midnight. June 30th. It's officially his birthday and Joe can't catch a break. "I'm Bromley, remember?"

Stefan's laugh is glorious to hear. It's aided by a few cans of beer but welcome nonetheless. "Well happy gay birthday Bromley." he laughs, gesturing to the pin on Joe’s jacket that he’d forgotten about. of course he blushes, that’s all he’s capable of doing.

Stefan’s bus comes too soon after that. Joe says that if ever he wants to meet up again he should just go to Gay's the Word and ask for him. Then he's gone. Joe's heart flutters.

-

The next time they get the opportunity to hang out Joe ends up going to Stefan's workplace. He brings pastries and coffee which Stefan's boss eyes and makes a point of mentioning how disrespectful Joe is to come to the offices without offerings. Like the weakling he is, he gives Thakur the pain au chocolat that was meant for himself. Stefan laughs to himself, even if he keeps his eyes trained on his monitor. He and Stefan spend the day there, Joe dicks around on the computer next to him and they talk easily about the game, the book and work. Stefan reveals he wasn't really planning on releasing any games after Bandersnatch but he just kept on living after its release and with nothing better to do he started coding again. Joe hates being presumptive but he sees why Stefan's seeing a therapist.

On the way out, they swing round the record shop.

"I told my dad about you. I told him I have three friends now..." But he quickly looks up looking for reassurance from Joe, "if that's alright with you. If we aren't friends he won't be surprised if the number goes down I'm not the easiest person to get along with so-"

"Of course we're friends. You compliment my baking and photography I'm an easy man."

"Really? How easy?"

Joe flushes.

"Bad joke, sorry I didn't take my medication."

"Your medication makes you less inquisitive to your friend’s private lives?"

"Well yeah. I found out most of what I know about Colin when I was flushing them."

"Funny how that works...."

Stefan rolls his eyes while he picks out a record. Pearl jam. Steph loves them.

-

Stefan's a welcome addition to his life. He's easy to get along with, not as loud as Joe's other friends and he makes time for Joe.

He's helping at the book shop (filling shelves, taking some books upstairs for storage) with Mark.

"Y'know Bromley, I'm surprised you have time to be here between work and that boyfriend of yours." He says offhand.

That strikes Joe because boyfriend? He's been single forever having never dated seriously. He tries to never think about that because he's only getting older. He pauses from flipping through the book that he's holding.

"Boyfriend?"

"The one from pride. How'd you not know your own partner, the one with the dark hair and leather jacket?"

"Stefan?" Joe can feel himself flushing. "We're friends, what?" He laughs nervously.

"Oh, poor naive Bromley. You sheltered folk sure do congregate." Mark laughs. It's a joke that Joe doesn't really get it. It's not funny because they're not into each other that way. Joe rationalises it to himself, how Stefan and him just wouldn't work out because Stefan seems preoccupied and Joe doesn't fight for attention. He won't.

[endoftheworldpaul]

It's still technically Wednesday for me so looks like we got another close call update!

@dbhrarepairs Here's my submission for day 3, wrong blind date.

Both Convin and Elijah/Leo bc I shouldn't brainstorm when I'm tired.

If you would rather read on AO3, you can click here!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/20611682 

Again, I apologize, but I'm having serious troubles with getting the read more break in here if anyone has tips I'm willing to listen Google isn't helping.

EDIT: I FIGURED IT OUT. Well, really, I just went on my laptop bc mobile, for all its benefits for my schedule, is super confusing when it wants to be.

Usually, Nines is rather reliable. Always prepared, always punctual, always one step ahead of everyone else. 

Just not this week. Finals week had, as always, was hellish for most students. Even Nines felt some of the end of the year panic. And by some, it was more along the lines of going into an over-studying craze. 

One problem that accompanies what his close friends have dubbed The Dark Ages is that he takes on too many extra projects in a failing attempt to distract himself. 

One such project is promising four very confused and stressed friends to set them up on blind dates. Four friends that, he decided, needed something new to distract from the stresses of life. 

Friend number one—Gavin Reed, a police officer closing in on his second year out of police academy—was the one who unintentionally gave Nines the idea to play matchmaker. 

On a cold Friday evening, their weekly "chill day," Gavin was complaining about his coworkers, as usual. 

"So, there's this new guy, a transfer from Dearborn, who is so fuckin' annoying. Dude spends his entire fucking break, I shit you not, to gush about his wife. Just got married. Who cares? Lotsa people get married, why should it be such a big deal? So I say to him, "Why don't you spend less time rambling on about the missus, and more time solving fucking crimes?" And the asshole has the gall to tell me that I'd change my mind if I could keep someone around for more than a week! What a dick right?" 

While Nines loved spending time with Gavin, he made conversations interesting and he was honest, he got into moods and would, for lack of a better word, be a huge bitch about things he didn't agree with. 

Nines shot a glance towards Gavin, taking in his position sprawled out on Nines' couch, one leg dangling off the edge, fiddling with his phone. "I suppose the only option would be to prove him wrong then. Show that you can 'keep someone around for more than a week' and rub it in his face, good ol' Gavin Reed style." He scowled, "But who would be this mystery date?"

Gavin looked up from his phone, shooting Nines a confused glance. "Well, I 'spose it could be one of those friends of yours. You've got like a million, it can't be that hard to find someone who'll like me. Even if I am kind of a dick!"

Nines hummed in confirmation, mentally creating a list of potential dates for Gavin. He had a lot of pros and cons lists to make. 

Friend number two—Connor Stern, a newer acquaintance of his—was the catalyst for the second half of what would eventually turn into Nines' biggest embarrassment. 

Connor had been more forthright with his date searching. On one of their shopping trips, devised when they found out they both lived at the same apartment complex as well as frequently shopped at the same local grocery store, he had suddenly enquired as to whether or not Nines could find someone he could go on a date with. 

"I suppose, since it's been so long that I've tried dating, that I should consider pursuing romantic relationships. Now that I am about to graduate from the academy, I have more time to do so. So you have anyone in mind whom you think I could form a serious connection with, whether it be more friendly or more romantic?" 

At first, Nines was a little surprised. But he quickly overcame that because a wave of excitement washed over him. Since he began planning a blind date for Gavin three days prior, Nines had closely analyzed the personalities of all of his companions. In doing so, he had gotten closer to narrowing down who Gavin's date would be. To find Connor a potential date, all he would have to do is make minor adjustments to his list of complementary personality traits and hobbies. 

He gave Connor a small smile in confirmation. "I think I can come up with a person or two."

After narrowing down his list of potentials for Connor, he had to ask friends if they would be available in the set few days Connor had confirmed he would be free. 

Option one, a close friend and classmate, North Dufay, stated that she had to take over for a friend who was on vacation at the taekwondo studio she worked at. 

Option two, local street artist Markus Manfred, was also unavailable. His father was accompanying him to an art gallery showing in Paris, where both artists would present new works. 

That left one person. The third friend roped into Nines' disaster of a plan, Elijah Kamski, genius and programmer, and massive introvert. It had been at least three years, half of the time Nines has known him, since he had even attempted to socialize with anyone outside of his immediate friend group. Jumping from one project to the next, he had a habit of ignoring any of Nines' attempts at getting him to redirect his attention elsewhere and relax. Nines hoped that, by introducing him to someone new who would match his wit and appreciate his devotion to his goals, it would encourage him to pursue other minor hobbies and allow him to de-stress. 

Connor, who was sarcastic and determined, seemed like a perfect match. 

Finding Gavin a date took a little more thinking than it did for Connor; he had a less approachable personality. Grumpy and irritable, many of Nines' friends would be unable to withstand sharp jabs and brutal honesty long enough to get to see his protectiveness and ambition. 

North might've been a good option, but she had prior engagements. Tina might've gotten along well with Gavin, but they had dated in high school and agreed that being friends was better for both of them. At first, Chloe seemed like she might be a good match, but she had recently come out as aromantic and asexual, so Nines ruled her out. 

The only option left was the chaotic ball of energy that was Leo Manfred, Markus' half brother. When he was younger, Leo had been in a bad situation, but finding supportive friends and a good therapist that encouraged him to redirect his anger to something more productive had helped him find a purpose in life, create goals. 

Now a full time student, well on his way to becoming a psychologist, he was likely to enjoy Gavin's sass and dorky jokes. 

People paired up, all Nines had to do was organize the details of the dates. For Connor and Elijah, he decided that a less crowded, but not isolated café just off of the main streets would be perfect. Or, was that where he had planned Gavin and Leo's date? No, he was mostly sure that he had made reservations for them at a local restaurant by Gavin and Tina's shared apartment. He didn't have time to worry about it at the moment; he had a final to study for. 

Connor had the feeling that something was going to go wrong. Nines hadn't told him his date's name to prevent him from looking him up on social media platforms and form any opinions on him before their actual date. He was just told that his date was about average height, with dark hair, often wore glasses, and had horrible posture. 

So of course, when someone matching that exact description walked through the door six and a half minutes after their scheduled meet up time, he hesitantly waved. 

The man, indeed wearing glasses, seemed slightly out of breath. He hadn't seemed to try to dress up, dressed in a faded gray, long sleeved sweater and wrinkled blue jeans. 

Flopping down into the chair across from Connor, his date sighed, stuck a hand out to shake, and blurted out "I'm so sorry I'm late! My roommate let my cat outside accidentally and I had to chase her down the street so that I could get her home and by the time I did, I had lime fifteen minutes max, and I still had to shower and stuff and then i realized that my dryer broke in the middle of this last load so most of my clothes are either soaked or horribly wrinkled and I couldn't find a shirt that made my eyes look really good and I forgot to put my contacts in and… yeah. I'm so fuckin' sorry, I wanted to try to impress you but I'm doing a kind of shit job at that huh?" 

Connor blinked a few times, trying to absorb the story his date, who still had yet to introduce himself, threw at him. He tried to smile reassuringly, and shook the still outstretched hand. "Well that seems like a horrible afternoon. It's a pleasure to meet you, I'm Connor. You're also a friend of Nines' then I suppose?" 

"Oh yeah! Yeah I am. Uh, I'm Gavin. It's nice to meet you." Gavin shifted in his seat. "Sorry again for being late. It really isn't normal for me, I swear." 

"Well it happens every one in a while. It's sweet that you care about your cat so much that you would go out of your way to looking for her like that. What's her name, if you don't mind me asking?"

Gavin gasped and frantically pulled his phone out, unlocking it. "Her name is Dana and she's a menace! Look, she's so fluffy!" He shoved his phone at Connor, who takes in the fluffy black mass, staring up at him through the photo. Her bright green eyes reflect a tiny image of Gavin, holding his phone to take the photo and squinting in concentration. Cute.

Connor smiles. "Well, that is the most gorgeous menace I've ever seen. She looks so soft." 

"Oh she is. If I don't brush her every day, she gets violent." Connor snorts. "Ha, yeah it's funnier when you're not on the receiving end of her tiny little dagger-teeth. I should probably stop gushing about my cat; you'll think I'm crazy soon! So, uh, how did Nines describe me? Because he described you as, and I quote, a kind of tall, dark haired twink with a nice smile." 

Connor chuckled. "It seems like the stress is really getting to him if he could only describe me as a twink with a nice smile. He was a lot more bland when describing you. He said you're average height, with glasses and dark hair and a horrible posture. Which, I mean, at least he's been pretty accurate with his descriptions, even if they do seem rushed." 

Humming in agreement, Gavin asked, "Hey, what do you do? You got a job or you studying or what?" 

"Oh I'm currently in the police academy. I wanna be a lieutenant someday." 

Gavin wiggled in his seat. "Oh shit, I'm a cop too! I escaped the academy two years ago." 

"Really? Oh that's amazing! Maybe we'll get to work together on cases. It would be nice to have made a friend or something when I graduate from the academy. So what do you do now? What's it like, being a serious police officer like that?"

They continued chatting for the next two hours, occasionally buying each other snacks and drinks. Connor was hesitant to end the date, suggesting they walk to the park or go watch a movie. 

They spent most of the afternoon together, before Gavin offered to walk Connor home. Standing on the sidewalk by the front doors, Gavin slowly took hold of Connor's hands and stood on his toes to kiss Connor's nose. 

"I had a lot of fun, I'd love to see you again" Gavin murmured. 

A blush crept up Connor's cheeks. "Well it's a good thing I'm free next Saturday, because I do too." 

"Oh, well that's good." Gavin sighed. "I'm gonna hafta leave soon, or else Dana'll throw a fit. I'll see you Saturday okay? Is seven good? I got a half brother who can hook me up with some fancy reservations if you'd like."

Connor squeezed Gavin's hand before hesitantly letting go. "Sounds like a date. I can't wait. Goodbye Gavin." 

"G'bye."

Elijah was hesitant to go on Nines' blind date. In a hurry, he only said that his date was a smart kid, a couple years younger than Elijah himself, with dark brown, curly hair. 

He didn't want the guy to think too highly of him or else he might want to schedule another date, and Elijah didn't have time for that. So, he decided to show up "accidentally" almost half an hour late. Pushing the café door open, his gaze immediately landed on a grumpy looking guy, maybe twenty-ish, who was slumped over his phone in a booth in the far back. 

Shambling over to the grumpy kid, he asked "Are you Nines' friend? I'm here for the blind date."

Grumpy guy glanced up at him, grumbling a "Yeah that's me. You a little late there dude."

Slouching into the other side of the booth, Elijah quoted the excuse he planned out. "I'm sorry. My car wouldn't start, so I had to get a ride from a friend. Maybe I can buy you like a coffee or a sandwich to make up for it?"

"Well, you don't have to bribe me. If you're offering though, maybe a blueberry muffin and a caramel macchiato. And also a name?" 

Elijah raised his eyebrows. This kid was more blunt than he was expecting. It was… nice. "Hmm I suppose that it makes sense to give you my name. Elijah." He paused. "Kamski." Some people knew who he was. It wasn't that surprising for a programmer as young as he is to catch the attention of mainstream media if they're successful, which he was. 

"Leo. Manfred." Manfred, Manfred. Why did that name sound so familiar? "Are you gonna get my stuff or were you lying about that part?" 

If he had wanted to make a better impression, he might've actually laughed at that. Instead, all he did was not and stand up, heading toward the counter. As he was walking, he glanced around the café, observing a small family, a couple teenagers working on homework, and Gavin? On a date. Hmm. That's something to tease him about later. 

Returning to the table, he expected Leo to still be on his phone, but instead he was casually observing him. Might as well pass the time by talking. That usually pushes people away pretty fast. "You have a job? Studying?" 

Munching on his muffin, Leo hummed. "Mhm. Psychology." Maybe this kid is smart. "Don't worry though, I promise I only psychoanalyze on the second date." Oh. He's actually funny. Maybe this won't be as bad as he thought. 

Elijah allowed himself to smile a little at that. "Well, well, well, looks like I have something to look forward to." Elijah what are you doing? Did you just insinuate that you would like to go on a second date with this guy? 

Leo chuckles and sets his muffin back down on its plate. "Well you still gotta impress me first. Bribery doesn't work with everyone. If this were the second date, though, I'd have a hell of a lot to say about the lying and avoidance of revealing personal details. But, like I said, that'll have to wait 'til the second date." 

Definitely smart. More smart-ass though. That was more appealing than Elijah was expecting it to be. 

He sighed. "Well, since you caught me, I suppose I'll have to share something for the class. I'm a programmer. I'm currently working on developing AI tools that will recognise voices to activate or shut down household items, like a stove that shuts off to protect young children from lighting their homes on fire."

"That sounds pretty cool actually. Gotta babyproof the fancy smart-technology. I was expecting you to be something lame, like a very antisocial plumber or a dentist or something, but you're not that boring I guess." 

This time Elijah couldn't stop himself from laughing. Maybe, just maybe, he'll let himself enjoy this date. "'Not that boring I guess' is a compliment of the highest caliber, coming from someone as attractive as you." Why not go full flirt, if he wants this to go well. 

"Keep talking like that and I'll be swooning into your arms in no time. Seriously though, be careful, I'm starting to like you. That would be horrible, wouldn't it?" Leo raised an eyebrow.

Elijah smiled a little. "I guess it wouldn't be that bad. I think I'm starting to like you too." He snuck a piece of Leo's muffin, then hummed in delight. "That is a phenomenal muffin. You've just been hoarding it all for yourself over there? You are a cruel and unjust monster. Gimme more."

Snickering, Leo smacked Elijah's arm away from the plate. "Only nice dates who ask nicely get to share muffins." 

Elijah sighed. "Well I suppose if it's for a muffin of this quality, it will be worth it. I would like some muffin." 

Leo didn't budge. 

"...Please?" 

At this,  Leo broke off a large chunk of the muffin and handed it to Elijah. "Well, since you asked so politely, I guess I'm required to give you some now. It's good date behavior. Gotta be good if I want ya to stick around I 'spose." He smirked. Then he glanced at his watch, a rather shiny silver. "Oh shit, I gotta go. I'm house-sitting for my half-brother and I gotta feed his birds."

Elijah hesitated in saying goodbye, even as Leo rushed to clean up. Suddenly standing, he blurted out, "Maybe we can schedule that second date?" 

Leo paused, looking up at him. For a few seconds, Elijah thought he was going to decline the offer, but then he straightened his spine, smiled softly, and said, "Meet me at that Italian restaurant off of Main, next Tuesday? 6:30?" 

"It's a date. I'll see you then. I'll accompany you to your car." The both of them walked side by side, just close enough that every once in a while, their knuckles would brush up against each other. Parting with a wave, Elijah started planning what he would do to show his thanks to Nines for forcing him to do this dumb blind date thing, because it seemed that it wasn't as dumb as he originally thought.

When Nines ran into Connor in the hallway, he had to see how the date went. "So, what did you think of Elijah?"

Connor froze, turned to look at Nines, brow furrowed, and asked, "Who the fuck is Elijah?" Uh oh. 

[hoodie-at-the-bar]

i’m aggressive

He was my Cabana Boy. We never made it off Tinder, in that we never texted or anything - our only lines of communication was on the Tinder messaging app. We just went back and forth with improv about how he would feed me grapes, and fan me with giant palm leaves, and give me messages. He was my cabana boy. 

His photos were all different, from very blurry to super blurry, to cute but a weird angle, to sunglasses. I had no idea what I was getting into, but he was jolly sounding, and flirtatious. Then he took it to a bit more real, from casual banter.

“How about tonight?” he asked. We talked about meeting up and engaging in this Cabana Boy fantasy. It was a Sunday night, past 10pm. Do I want to cash in this comedic performance for a one night stand, or put off hanging out to actually date this guy? Are those my only two options? I figured if he were to come over then we’d likely sleep together and not go on a date thereafter. However, if I put off meeting up, we’d have a better chance of getting to know each other and then maybe start dating. 

For 2019, I told myself I would have a better filter. In order to seriously consider a guy, he’d have to have (2 out of 3) of the following qualities: 

Great Banter: We can go back and forth and be engaging, I would look forward to his messages. Whether it’s organic conversations about our week, or childlike correspondence of “would you rather” type questions. Cabana Boy had this.

Attraction. As shameful and shallow as it may be, it is important. If I were to spend an hour or more with someone, part of that motivation would be physical attraction to the guy I’m talking to. With Cabana Boy, it was hard to say. Only one of his photos, a top angle where he’s sucking on a straw, did I find him attractive. He kind of reminded me of Seth Rogan, but after he lost the weight

Is there something, anything, about his profile that gets me excited? It could be writing style, photos of an activity he’s into - something that may showcase his personality whether explicitly or suggestive. Cabana Boy didn’t have that.

Well that settles it: I’m inviting him over just to see what happens. If it ends up being a one night stand, it’s my welcome back party to dating. If it ends up being more - that’s great. 

“Sure, here’s my address…”

I’m not frivolous - I’ve said it before, but my security system takes video clips of everyone who enters my home and I make sure to share that fun fact with any guy who comes over. In a way that sounds like I’m joking when I’m very much serious. Sometimes I even show them the clip… it's a reverse psycho killer.

Cabana Boy showed up less than an hour later. He actually was Seth Rogan, but original Seth Rogan. He had curly hair and wore a trucker hat backwards that said “Palm Springs”. He was wearing a flannel over a grey shirt that I'm pretty sure was sweaty. He smelled like he lived in a frat house and spent most of his evenings playing video games, next to an empty pizza box and a 2-liter bottle of Mountain Dew. I’m just guessing.

We hugged hello and went to the kitchen. I poured us each a glass of wine, but perhaps I should have just cracked open a couple of Rainiers. He smiled a lot and was super friendly. He was from Michigan, and had that Mid-western nice boy look to him. He wasn’t really sweaty, I just felt he would be.

“How is dating women in Seattle different than women from home?” was one of the questions I asked after some time.

“Well, Seattle women are aggressive  “ he leaned back and motioned his hands toward me.

“What??” he called me aggressive. Apparently my leaned in body language and interest in his life was aggressive. I jumped right in with questions about him and was engaged with my “leaning inness”. What can I say, I was a fan of Sheryl Sandberg. I mentioned a few times I felt I needed to be more hostess like beyond just wine.

“I’m sorry, I feel like I should cut up oranges and serve them to you like a proper Asian lady” - he chuckled, shook his head whispered stop and leaned in to kiss me. It felt like a night after study hall in college, where we pretend like we wanted to have a conversation but we were just waiting out the other person to make the first move. We were in the kitchen for a bit before moving upstairs. 

Time passes…. I’m not sure yet how detailed the blog will be - I’m more of a 12 shades of Grey type girl. I can kiss and tell, but am pretty tight lipped after. Needless to say, it wasn’t a date really.

We were both lying in bed with light conversation and then asked, “Sooo… what’s the plan? Do you want me to stay over?” 

I paused. I didn’t. I had a friend once say she expected the guy to stay over if they slept together, he practically owed it to her. If she sleeps with him, he will stay over and cuddle with her. For me, it was the opposite. The idea of a guy I barely knew staying the night, in my bed, cuddling me, was far too intimate and made me very uncomfortable. Don’t worry, I’m keeping a list of things to speak with my therapist at some point. I didn’t want to hurt his feelings though.

“I’m net neutral” I said stoically. I know. I got nothing but ridicule form my girlfriends. Apparently my nerd comes out even in the bedroom - but it was the nicer version of the truth.

“But what do you want?” he insisted.

“Hmmm, do you want the real answer?”

“Of course”

“Well if you go home, I’d be able to sleep comfortably and get ready for work and have a good night’s sleep. If you stayed over… I’d only say stay over so you don’t have to drive all the way back to West Seattle '' and I winced with a smile in shame. 

“Okaaaaay then….” and he started to get up. I didn’t stop him. I threw on my robe and just watched him put his clothes on.

It did cross my mind that I may have been hurtful, intentional or not. I think some may say, i was a “dick”. Only some.

The next day I wasn’t sure if I wanted to see the Cabana Boy again, during daylight - people can date after a one night stand, right? It was about two days after, on a Tuesday, I sent him a photo of his Trucker Hat that he left behind

I tried being somewhat flirtatious, but didn’t ask him right out to hang out, but he did at some point.

About two weeks later, he texted to hang out.

I was open to it, but the motivation sizzled out. I was not motivated to follow up, and apparently never had. Neither of us asked further questions to make the plan and experienced a mutual fizzle.

My dear, sweet Cabana Boy…. his messages weren’t too bad.

-April 14, 2019

Date # 1w/ Cabana Boy Suitors in 2019 YTD: 2 Dates in 2019 YTD: 2

[wee-chlo]

Sitcom AU where after Five disappears, Reginald has an epiphany and commits to being Less of a Dick. It’s rocky going, because Reginald is still a stiff, socially inept curmudgeon who is terrible with children but his efforts include:

Awkwardly attempting to use the names Grace gave them. Eventually becomes so obviously painful that they all just give him an out and decide the number system is just a bunch of nicknames.

Giving Grace a room and more autonomy while also maintaining her upkeep so that she’s sharp as a tack well into their late twenties. Wins points with everyone with this but especially Diego.

The uniforms are worn during ‘school hours’; otherwise the children can wear what they like. Grace is given leave to take the children out for day trips and the first one is to go out and get them whatever clothing they want. Allison, Klaus and Vanya ask if they can get makeup. “Ask your mother.” “Of course!”

Sadistic abusive testing is completely done away with but the children are still trained in combat techniques, teamwork, strategy and tactics, etc. for the future. The creepy posters are taken down though. 

Giving Grace and Pogo leave to celebrate things like holidays and birthdays (hitherto dismissed as pointless waffle). Reginald rarely attends these festivities, but at least one of the children will usually have something for him. As the years pass, more of these gifts are actively used, worn, or put in places where they can be seen.

Coming clean about Vanya’s powers. Vanya goes no/low contact for years but she’s told about her powers in a way that doesn’t trigger every trauma she’s ever had. He makes sure she’s aware that she can keep the violin. She does.

After Klaus’ first (and successful) stint in rehab, he very reluctantly agrees to family therapy despite constantly insisting that he is not their father, he is their guardian, there’s a difference, they are his wards and charges, not his children. Results are mixed but predominately positive. The therapist is very straightforward about the consequences of his actions.

As a result:

Luther and Diego still snipe at each other but it’s more friendly and brotherly. Both of them are better adjusted emotionally and engage in vigilante crime-fighting antics together. They bicker about who’s the sidekick. Luther lives in the mansion, Diego has his own apartment and receives a stipend from Reginald for expenses. 

Luther is more mature, not mutated, and has a much more relaxed relationship with Reginald and his family in general. For awhile he didn’t really have much aside from training and crimefighting so the others encouraged him to get a hobby. Grace taught him how to cook and bake. He also adopted a puppy he named Orion. He has no authority over his dog. He initially intended to train Orion has a sort of sidekick attack dog to fight crime alongside him but then Orion curled up next to him on the bed that first night and he realized that if anything happened to Orion, he would kill everyone in the tri-state area and then himself. Orion stays home and keeps Pogo company.

Diego’s relationship with Eudora is still somewhat tumultuous but his emotional stability means it’s still pretty positive, with Luther and Diego having a much less abrasive relationship with the local police. Diego and Eudora still go on dates sometimes but not consistently. He doesn’t go on dates with anyone else though.

Allison is still a starlet but her relationships with her husband and child are much healthier and she uses her Rumor power much less. She used it pretty liberally early on but conversations with her family made her realize it wasn’t appropriate. She lives across the country but keeps in close contact with everyone and visits for holidays. She doesn’t receive a stipend, but did early on in her career. She and Luther have long since decided that they’re better as friends, and she encourages him to find someone because he really does need that kind of support and intimacy.

Klaus succeeded in kicking hard drugs and while he’s still a shameless pothead and disaster gay, he’s also much more stable. He’s an actor at the theater with plenty of friends and is a staple designated driver and mom friend of local gay bars and raves. He lives in the manor, where he and Luther have become very weird friends as Klaus tries to get Luther out of his shell. Klaus was most recently in a production of Les Mis as Grantaire. Everyone, including Grace, Pogo, and (reluctantly) Reginald, attended. Reginald declared it “surprisingly adequate”. It was the nicest thing he’d ever said to Klaus. 

Klaus got a Siamese kitten on a lark after Luther adopted Orion. Her name is Schatz and she is an absolute terror but always comes when Klaus calls her and will frequently ride on his shoulder like the cutest parrot in the world. 

Ben is alive and is going to college to be a nurse. He still lives at the mansion but actually does pay rent (not a lot, but still) and works as a bicycle courier on the side. He and Klaus are besties; Klaus drags him to every gay bar in the city and he has lots of admirers. Klaus also hooks him up with the therapist he started seeing after rehab. For therapy. Not for romantic liaisons.

Vanya’s therapy actually works because she knows why she needs it. She goes off her power-inhibiting meds, starts taking meds that will actually help her, and retreats to a quiet, isolated place to focus on learning how to control her powers without hurting people. She went no/low contact with the others both because of her hurt and anger and because she didn’t want to hurt them while she experimented. She doesn’t write a tell-all book, and Reginald quietly sends her a stipend to live on while she trains herself.

The Story

Instead of Five dropping in right before Hargreeves’ memorial service, he drops in right before the family’s “Welcome Back, Vanya, We’re Still Super Sorry and Love You Very Much” party as Vanya finally feels comfortable enough to return to the mansion. 

Everyone is still outrageously distracted from Five’s Very Important Mission accept for Hargreeves, who immediately pulls out the uniforms he’s had prepared for them for just this instance. Five’s is too big. Five puts on the school boy uniform and is very weirded out when Reginald apologizes because he assumed Five wouldn’t be a literal child when he returned but he really should have been better prepared.

“Dad, you told the therapist you got rid of those.” “I lied.” “.... alright, asked and answered.”

Instead of being distracted by things like trauma, dysfunction, drug abuse, etc., everyone’s distracted by mundane, goofy nonsense. Luther is set up on a blind date by Klaus with the girl who played Eponine, and is reluctant to leave when Five tries to drag him out of the restaurant. Allison’s husband has the flu so she can’t leave, she doesn’t know anyone here and who would take are of Claire? “... HOW ABOUT MOM, ALLISON?” 

Klaus helps for awhile but is immediately distracted by a very cute soldier in line to discuss a prosthetic leg who introduces himself as David Katz. Five admits through gritted teeth that yes, he has a great smile, but you know what he’ll have in a week if we don’t get this done? A really bad case of death.

Vanya’s better but then she meets Dave’s sister, Esther, and becomes as distracted as Klaus and Five wonders if it’s not too late to just let the apocalypse happen.

Only Reginald is helpful but even his assistance is limited because he basically hasn’t left his manor in actual years and looks like he’s straight out of a Dickens novel. Grace is only moderately more believable. Pogo is a monkey.

On the plus side, the group is much better at working together because despite deciding that brutal psychological abuse wasn’t the best way to go about things, Reginald still made sure they were prepared and well-trained. Hazel and Cha-Cha are still terrifying but Klaus isn’t kidnapped and they’re sent scurrying away after the attack on the academy.

Eventually, Five learns that Hazel and Cha-Cha weren’t sent to ensure the apocalypse but to attempt to instigate it because it’s basically been stopped in it’s tracks by the Hargreeves family being Weird-But-Chill instead of Insane-and-Dysfunctional. However, between Hazel becoming both infatuated with Agnes and increasingly disinterested in causing the destruction of the world as we know it, Cha-Cha not really getting any backup, and the Umbrella Academy’s impressive (if frequently distracted) competence, it just becomes a big circus of black comedy, slapstick, and slice of life nonsense with Five and Reginald trying and failing to get the others to keep their eye on the birdie for longer than six minutes at a time but everyone’s too distracted by things like cute girls and anatomy tests and families and being really gay.

[theanonauthorfanfic]

Hands like Heaven

Title: Hands like Heaven

Square Filled: Pressure Points

Ship: Winterwidow Bucky x Natasha Au

Rating: Mature

Major Tags: Mentions of blowjob and hand job, accident, losing a limb, anxiety, panic attack

Summary: Natasha was becoming a massage therapist to help people. She ends up helping the person she least expected.  

Word Count: 1550

Created for @mcukinkbingo​

  Natasha had gone to school to become a masseuse. She was working on getting to know pressure points to help work stress out of her client’s bodies. She had been friends with Steve, Clint, Sam, Tony and even Bucky before he decided not to trust anyone. Natasha wanted to slap Bucky sometimes. She swore she heard him scoff even time she came into the room. She was sick of his childish shit. They were friends not to long back. Something had happened and Natasha didn’t understand what happened but Bucky turned out to be a dick. He treated her like shit and usually made some comment about a happy ending at the end of a massage.

As of late Natasha stopped going to their friendly meet ups on Friday nights at their favorite bar is, she knew Bucky was going. She didn’t want to subject herself to Bucky’s nasty attitude with her. Sam, Steve, Clint and Tony had suggested if Bucky got Friday night then Nat got Saturday nights. Everything was going well until Bucky had his accident. When she found out about the accident, she had thought about how karma was finally kicking him in the ass from how he treated her.

Natasha had started working with the hospital about a year prior to the accident happening. After Bucky’s accident she had hoped he didn’t need physical therapy. It had been about a month since the accident. One day her boss Maria Hill came over to her.

“Ms. Romanov, I have a very special case for you,” Maria told her. “This young man was in an accident. He has been working with a physical therapist over the last month to get use o his left arm back. Since he has been using it more in the last week, his therapist wanted him to start seeing a masseuse to loosen up the tense muscles. He needs a tender touch which you have. He also had some damage done to his spine and would need a fully body work down as well.”

“Of course, I would love to help Ms. Hill. What is this patients name,” Natasha asked questioningly?

“His name is James. He is quiet and wont talk to anyone. No one has been to visit him since he was admitted because of the accident,” Maria answered casually.

“I will help him. When do we start working with him,” Natasha smirked?

“Tomorrow is his first session. Make sure to get well rested for tomorrow Ms. Romanov,” Maria mentioned as she stalked away.

Natasha was grateful that she had a job she loved. She had enjoyed helping people and continued to hope it would be like that as she got older. She was excited to work with James to make him feel better after all the pain he had been through. In the back of Natasha’s head, she had thought it may be Bucky and that it would be difficult for her to be able to help him. Natasha pushed that thought as far to the back of her mind as possible.

The next day when she showed up to work Ms. Hill was waiting for her.

“Ms. Romanov, James is being brought down in a few moments. I want to make sure we have a massage table ready for him. Today I want you to start off with a massage. Get him comfortable with you before we start full physical therapy to help him overcome what happened with the accident. Oh and Ms. Romanov please treat him with respect and kindness. He has been a bit prickly. He was the one refusing to have visitors but he needs companionship. He is such a lonely young man. I trust you will make him open up with you,” Ms. Hill stated as she walked off.

Natasha immediately started to get the massage table ready. She made sure he would have a private room with her being the only one who would be in there with him. She didn’t want him to feel overwhelmed. Natasha had her back to the door. She heard the door open and close. Then heard someone lay down on the table. She turned around and James immediately jumped up.

James stared at her for a moment before speaking, “When did you start working at the hospital Tash?”

“Once I finished getting my license for being a massage therapist Bucky,” Natasha sneered.

Bucky rolled his eyes, “Out of all the people that get to help me it has to be you.”

Natasha heard the snark and meanness in is tone. She rebutted, “Out of all the assholes to get into an accident you had to be stupid enough to do it. We could have avoided each other if you didn’t get hurt.”

Bucky looked down at his feet. He was shocked she was treating him like this. He knew that she had been avoiding him for months and he spent a night with the boys and then the boys would spend the next night with her. When did they become so cold toward each other? Bucky was amped up, “Well, I wasn’t the one who avoid you first. As I recall you asked Steve and Sam to get Tony and Cint to agree meeting up with you a different night so you didn’t have to deal with me. Everyone doesn’t want to deal with me. Been like that for as long as I can remember.”

Those words hit Natasha in her heart. She cared about Bucky but he was always an asshole towards her. She needed to calm down and focus on his shoulder. He kept a hoodie on and she needed him to remove it. Natasha spoke softly, “I am sorry for whatever happened between us James. Please remove your hoodie and we can get started on your shoulder and neck feeling better.”

Bucky’s eyes went wide. Tash had asked him to remove his security blanket since the accident which was his hoodie. He just sat there staring like a deer in the headlights waiting for a car to hit him.

“James, breathe with me. In and out. Good follow my breath,” Natasha was helping him through a panic attack she saw it hit as soon as she asked to remove the hoodie. “Do you feel comfortable removing the hoodie James?”

Bucky wanted to nod but he shook his head. Tash stared at him in aww it looked like. He couldn’t find the words to talk to her. No one but him and the doctors knew that he lost most of his left arm. He was afraid people would judge him for being a cripple.

“James, you’re disassociating on me. Stay with me just listen to my voice. What shoulder hurts worse right now,” Nat asked calmly. James pointed to his left. “Thank you for showing me. Is it okay if I slip off the hoodie and cover you with a blanket?” James nodded. Nat smiled and knew she was getting somewhere with Bucky.

She had never seen Bucky so scared or vulnerable since she knew him. Once he had him under the blanket and his hoodie off. She started to work on his neck and shoulder. She left her hands do the talking as she played some of Bucky’s favorite music.

Nat was focusing on some pressure points to help alleviate some of the pain. She started at the base of his skull and used her thumbs to stimulate the GB20 and GB10 regions of his neck. It would help loosen the muscles and help alleviate some of the pressure from the swelling in his shoulder. When she was done with that, she moved on to GB21 and TW15 again to get the loose and pliable. Once she felt he was ready Nat moved to the TE3 in his hand as well as the LI4 point. She used this to her advantage to get him to relax. She knew the more relaxed James was the less pain he would feel.

Nat noticed Bucky was becoming more pliable to her movements. She was happy he would be finding some relief from the pain. She then moved down to his foot and grabbed the above tears point on his foot and massaged for 2 minutes with constant pressure. James groaned as he could move his shoulder more easily without the horrid pain it was causing. When she was done Bucky sat up.

“Thank you, Tash,” Bucky smiled. Nat was caught off guard. Bucky looked down at his crotch and noticed that he had a hard on for the first time since the accident. “Well, it not going to suck itself.” He motioned to his tented sweats.

Nat rolled her eyes, “Doesn’t mean I am going to suck it Barnes.”

“What has your panties is a twist Tash. I was just joking on the plus side your hands do wonders,” Bucky wiggled his eyebrows at her.

Nat leaned into him whispering, “I promise once you are out of the hospital, we can try some things with arousal pressure points versus ones that are for pain.”

Bucky groaned and adjusted himself in his sweats. Nat smiled and walked out of the room. Bucky knew that the reason he was such a dick to her is because he wanted her and he knew he could never have her. Now maybe just maybe that would change after all Tash has the hands that reminded him of heaven.

Tags: @buckmesideways22​ @oleanderbat , @buckyzgurl , @scarletsoldierrr , @kombatfather1796

[keelywolfe]

FIC: A Little Bonding Time

Summary:  After the events at the Beanery, Edge and Red spend time having a little chat. It goes about as well as you would expect.

Tags:  Prejudice Against Monsters, Implied/Referenced Terrorism, Angst, Red is a dick but it doesn’t mean he’s wrong

Also on AO3

By Any Other Name masterlist

~~*~~

It was later in the afternoon than Edge normally had coffee and a rare occasion where he went to get it himself. Normally, his secretary was bringing him a cup before he’d even realized he wanted one, but he’d already sent Janice home an hour earlier. She’d been working since before sunrise the same as he had, but she had children waiting for her at home. He’d sent her off, briskly countering her exhausted protests, and that left him here, in the employee breakroom pouring a cup of already-brewed coffee and grimacing at the taste.

He usually brewed his own with coffee beans roasted in house at the Beanery. That…would not be a viable option again, for some while. He sipped the generic blend without complaint as he walked back to his office, past Janice’s empty chair.

He opened the door and stopped. Red was sitting in his desk chair, spinning in lazy circles.

He sighed inwardly. He loved his brother deeply, with all the bitter resolve his soul possessed but there were times, too many of them, that he didn’t particularly like him. Especially now when he was about to get ripped to shreds over last night and never mind that it was richly deserved.

Red braced a foot against the desk, stopping the chair. “sup bro?”

“I’m giving you the opportunity to rethink the seating arrangement before I assist you with it.”

He disappeared with a pop of teleportation, reappearing in one of the guest chairs as Edge walked past it. “that better for you? how’s it going?

Deliberately, Edge pulled a tissue from the box and rubbed it on the spot Red had put his foot. He sat down and took a long drink of his coffee, well aware that he was stalling, and worse, that Red was aware, too.

Fuck, he was too tired for this today.

“I’m finishing our press release now,” Edge read off his list, monotone. “I’ve already sent Asgore my corrections for his speech tonight at the press conference. Two groups have applied for permits for what we suspect are anti-Monster protests. I have a team already working on our counter protests. I also have teams going out to speak to other monster friendly businesses; some of the owners are afraid and could use a little reassurance.”

Red only nodded, giving every appearance of disinterest. Edge knew better than to trust that. “welp, we knew this kind of shit show was going to happen eventually.” He shifted to sprawl in the chair with his legs over the arm, boots dangling. “saw you there last night.”

“I’m sure you did. I, for my part, saw you as well.”

His grin widened, and Red gave him a wink and a finger gun that had Edge grinding his teeth.  “good on you. see, the thing is, i coulda sworn i saw stretch there with you, but i know that can’t be right.” He shook his head sadly, propping his chin on his hand while Edge did not meet his gaze. “i thought to myself there was no fucking way. it wasn’t possible that my brother brought his pretty little liability with him to a fucking war zone because i taught him better than that. least i thought it did.”

“It was fine.”

“he was a distraction,” Red said sharply, his veneer of humor cracking.

“If I hadn’t brought him with me, he would have gone on his own without the benefit of my protection,” Edge snapped. “That, I think, would have been more of a distraction.”

“okay, you can have that one,” Red said lazily. “he behaved pretty well. nice to see he took those lessons i gave him to heart.”

His expression must have betrayed him because Red’s grin widened with sadistic glee. “he didn’t tell you. aw, little brother, don’t look so sad, you know better than that. the best liars know when to keep their mouths shut. yeah, a while back, precious came to me and asked for a little training.”

“Don’t call him that,” Edge said, low.

Red ignored him, going on, “he’s got a lot of raw power but no skill. you can bludgeon your way along like that for a while until you bump into someone whose better than you.” Red shrugged, slanting him a sideways glance. “gave him a few tips. mostly told him how to stand back and let you handle it like you’re fucking supposed to!”

The last was snarled out and his eye flared briefly, for once every trace of a smirk dropped away. Yes, Red was definitely furious with him for bringing Stretch along.

Then he relaxed back down, patting absently at his jacket. “he’s not bad, you know. all that power and better control than me or sans. a little more work and he’d be a hell of—“

“Do not smoke in here,” Edge interrupted coldly.

Red froze with the cigar half pulled out. A long moment passed, the air thick between them. Deliberately, Red tucked the cigar back into his jacket pocket. “whatever you say, boss.”

“Is there anything else you need to tell me that I don’t already know about?” Edge tapped a finger briefly on the report that had been on his desk this morning. Unsigned, written in a language that very few Monsters could read and certainly no Humans. His brother had forced him to learn it as a child and his paranoia was still serving them well.

“nah,” Red shrugged and stood up. Almost unconsciously, Edge relaxed slightly. That was a far less vicious dressing down than he’d expected.

“papyrus.”

That gave him a pause. No one called him that anymore except Red on very, very rare occasions. He raised a brow bone at him and said nothing.

“go home.”

It was incongruous and for a moment Edge didn’t believe he’d heard him correctly. “What?”

“go. home,” Red repeated patiently. “cause see, right now you’re acting a little too much like my brother and not enough like the monster who was standing at the altar a few weeks ago. pretty sure that isn’t the guy stretch wanted the whole love and cherish shit with. go home, take a shower, make dinner, fuck the honey bun someplace you’ve never done it before. remind yourself why you’re doing this.”

“Sans—"

"bet he’d like to see you right now,” Red said softly. “normalcy is very important to stretch. least that’s what his therapist says. oh, sorry, you wouldn’t know that."

“Stop it!” It was far too close to being a plea.

"what time did you get here this morning?” Red went on relentlessly. “how long have you been working? he's been sitting home all alone for how long now? I tell ya, i didn’t go through all the effort to get you two hitched for you to fuck it up after three weeks of marital bliss.”

“The effort you went through,” Edge laughed harshly, “ah yes, you were so helpful!”

“you’d be surprised, little brother.” Red’s smile was aggravatingly knowing and as familiar to him as his own face in a mirror. His brother was always offering tantalizing hints about mysterious knowledge that he never answered, tangled together until it was impossible to know where his lies began. "take my advice. go home. all of that will be there tomorrow but you never know about anything, or anyone, else.”

Edge said nothing. He could feel the prick of his own fingertips in his bony palm, digging through his gloves.

“welp, i’ve gotta see a man about a dog,” Red said cheerfully, “see you around, boss.”

Red left through the door for a change, waggling his fingers over his shoulder in a mocking goodbye. The moment the door closed, Edge hurled his empty coffee cup at it. It shattered, pieces flying, and Edge stood behind his desk, breathing hard. He closed his sockets and focused, calming the agitated LV clamoring in his soul. One minute passed, two, until he opened his sockets.

Pieces of ceramic were scattered everywhere, and he picked up each piece methodically, dropping them one at a time into the wastebasket.  

Then he took his brother’s advice.

-finis-

 Notes: Whew, are we ready to get back to some fluff? Next time, Edge goes home....where he belongs, damn it.