#they throw a vague hint that they know once just as a fun but polite 'your secret is safe w me' and spy shits himself right there

[coralie-silverthorn]

First Encounter

Holy hell I'm going to be sick and throw up. I don't know what I'm doing but here's what I wrote... quasi wrote? IDK... brain is dead now. Is this a... Blurb..? Drabble? Idk. 🤷🏻‍♀️

For some reason I really wanted Andrew Larson involved... So here we are.

This is my first foray into writing and actually sharing... what has this fandom done to me??? 😱☠️ I'm still figuring out my style so bear with me as I learn.

As always, please be kind. Share feedback.

After some decent sleep, I read through this and it's absolute trash. I will rewrite and probably delete this once it's been rewritten.

Andrew Larson sighed as he entered the grand ballroom of the Raffolo estate. The extravagant party was in full swing, but he couldn't summon any enthusiasm for the lavish affair. The only reason he was here was because his parents, eager to maintain their standing among their high-ranking colleagues, had forced him to attend. “It’ll be fun!” They said, “You can make friends there Drewbie,” his mother had cooed. “Maybe even find a nice girl to marry one day!” His father winked at him playfully.

As Andrew made his way through the crowd, his eyes scanned the room, taking in the opulent surroundings and the elegantly dressed guests. He felt like an outsider in this world of prestige and political maneuvering. The air was filled with animated conversations, the clinking of glasses, and the enchanting melodies of the orchestra. It was all so overwhelming.

Suddenly, the host, Mr. Raffolo, took the stage, capturing the attention of the room. Andrew's gaze turned towards him, his mind drifting as Mr. Raffolo delivered his speech. However, his attention was abruptly brought back to the present when Mr. Raffolo introduced someone of great importance to him.

"And now, ladies and gentlemen, allow me to introduce my favorite niece, Coralie Silverthorn!" Mr. Raffolo's voice boomed through the ballroom, accompanied by the resounding applause of the guests.

Andrew's curiosity was piqued as his eyes fell upon the captivating figure that entered the ballroom. He couldn't help but notice the graceful sway of her long, straight black hair, the intensity in her mahogany eyes as they scanned the room, Coralie Silverthorn, with her striking features, exuded an air of elegance and mystery. She was accompanied by a handsome escort, someone Andrew vaguely recognized as Alfie. Their paths had crossed before, though the circumstances eluded his memory. There had been fleeting encounters, brief interactions that left Andrew with a sense of familiarity, but the specifics remained hidden in the recesses of his mind. He couldn't recall how he knew Alfie.

As he observed Coralie and her escort, Andrew couldn't help but wonder about their relationship. They moved together with an ease and familiarity that suggested a deeper connection. Were they close confidants, bound by shared experiences? Or was their alliance more circumstantial, united for the purpose of attending this grand affair?

As Andrew's gaze lingered on Coralie and Alfie, he couldn't help but wonder about their relationship. Were they friends, relatives, or something more? The questions swirled in Andrew's mind, adding an extra layer of intrigue to Coralie's presence. He couldn't help but be drawn to her like a moth to a flame. He watched as she moved through the crowd, navigating the room with an effortless grace, leaving an impression on those she encountered.

Caught in the whirlwind of the crowded ballroom, Andrew found himself inching his way toward Coralie.With each step, his heartbeat quickened, anticipation mingling with a hint of nervousness.There was an undeniable appeal about her, a combination of beauty, poise, and an aura that intrigued him. 

Summoning his courage, Andrew approached Coralie, a hint of nervousness mingling with his curiosity. He hoped to catch her attention and engage in a conversation, even if just for a brief moment. But the presence of her escort, Alfie, made him hesitate. Would it be too forward to approach her with someone by her side? 

Nonetheless, Andrew found himself inching closer, his steps guided by a mixture of bravery and curiosity. He admired the way Coralie effortlessly navigated the social dynamics of the party, her warm smiles and gracious demeanor captivating those around her. Finally reaching Coralie and Alfie, Andrew offered a polite smile. "Good evening. I couldn't help but overhear Mr. Raffolo's introduction.” 

Coralie, gracious and composed, returned his smile. "Thank you. It's a pleasure to meet you too."

She smiled at him and he couldn’t even remember what left his mouth after he said good evening. Did he even introduce himself to her? Ah, well shit. He thought.

Andrew found himself drawn into their conversation, his curiosity urging him to learn more about Coralie. They exchanged pleasantries, discussing the festivities and the enchanting atmosphere. As they spoke, Andrew couldn't help but be captivated by Coralie's wit and intelligence, her every word leaving an impression on him.

Meanwhile, Alfie observed their interaction, a knowing smile playing at the corners of his lips. He excused himself, giving Andrew and Coralie a moment to engage in conversation without his presence.

As the evening unfolded, Andrew and Coralie continued to converse, their discussions ranging from their shared interests to the enchanting ambiance of the ballroom. Andrew found himself entranced by Coralie's presence, her intelligence and charm leaving him eager to learn more about her.

Through their conversation, Andrew discovered a shared passion for intellectual pursuits and a desire to make a lasting impact in the wizarding world

The remainder of the evening, Andrew found himself stealing glances in Coralie's direction after they parted ways. He was captivated by her. As the night wore on, Andrew's initial reluctance to attend the party faded, replaced by a growing curiosity and a desire to spend more time with Coralie Silverthorn.

Their brief conversation had left an indelible impression on Andrew, and he couldn't shake the feeling that there was much more to discover about Coralie. He wanted to know about her aspirations, her dreams, and the experiences that had shaped her into the captivating person she was.

While his mind buzzed with questions, Andrew's gaze wandered towards Alfie, who now stood a short distance away, observing their interaction with a knowing smile. 

With Coralie excusing herself to continue mingling with the guests, he approached Alfie, who greeted him with a friendly nod. "Alfie, isn't it? We've crossed paths before, haven't we?"

Alfie's smile widened, as if he had been expecting this moment. "Indeed, we have, Andrew. It seems fate has brought us together once again."

Curiosity burning within him, Andrew leaned in slightly, his voice lowered so he wouldn't embarrass himself for being unable to recall their connection. "I can't seem to recall the specifics of our previous encounters. Could you enlighten me?"

Alfie's eyes twinkled with mischief as he spoke, his voice filled with amusement. "Ah, that could be because we're both students at Hogwarts, my friend. You see, I am a seventh-year student there."

A wave of realization washed over Andrew as he processed Alfie's words. The missing fragments of memory began to fall into place, connecting the dots of their shared history. Alfie's presence at Hogwarts explained their past encounters, but the exact nature of their connection still eluded him.

Andrew couldn't help but feel a twinge of embarrassment for not remembering, and he wondered how Alfie had become familiar with him. Sensing his curiosity, Alfie's grin widened mischievously.

"Ah, dear Andrew, I must confess that our paths have crossed in the most unexpected way," Alfie said, his voice teasing. "You see, my friend, it is your many admirers that have allowed me to become acquainted with you. I often hear their squeals and giddy conversations in the common room."

Andrew's cheeks flushed with a mix of surprise and slight embarrassment. He hadn't realized that he had garnered such attention among his fellow students, let alone female attention. It was surprising revelation, and he couldn't help but wonder how Alfie fit into the picture.

Alfie chuckled, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "Don't worry, Andrew. Your admirers have provided me with a front-row seat to witness your escapades and adventures. We may not have interacted directly, but your presence has been felt through the echoes of their stories."

As Andrew absorbed Alfie's words, he couldn't deny the growing sense of familiarity that now enveloped them. Despite their indirect connection, a certain camaraderie sparked to life in that moment, as if they shared a deeper understanding that extended beyond their initial encounter at the party.

Andrew's gaze shifted back to where Coralie stood, engrossed in conversation with another guest. The magnetic pull he felt towards her remained strong, and now, armed with a newfound curiosity and intrigue, he was even more determined to unravel the mystery that is Coralie Silverthorn.

As the evening drew to a close, Andrew bid Alfie farewell, grateful for his newfound understanding of their shared connection as fellow students at Hogwarts and  their conversation lingering in his mind.The party may have been an obligation, but it had sparked a flame of curiosity within him, igniting a desire to delve deeper into the enigmatic lady he knew as Coralie Silverthorn.

[heavysass]

one of my favorite tf2 headcanons is that spy isn't french at all. he's a new yorker. he's canadian. or english, actually. guy was born in a swagless place and realized he would never be seen as the mysterious and enchanting smoothtalker he was aiming to be with his natural accent and birth cultural baggage so he fabricated all of his agent persona with a nationality that would compliment it. there's no one alive that knows the truth, he made sure of it.

[tokoyamisstuff]

Meant To Be - Loki x Fem! Reader

Summary: Much to your displeasure, your parents have promised you away to the God of Mischief of all people.

Tags: Arranged Marriage AU, Light Elf! Reader

Warnings: Aside from Loki hating himself, nothing.

Words: 2878

I Masterlist I

A/N: Some good old-fashioned, ‘redeemed after The Avengers and the other movies didn’t happen’ Loki. Like, really cheesy, self-indulgent 2012 stuff. I just want to ignore all misery that happens in the series okay?

“Ew! Stop it!”

You were eight at the time when you and Loki first met, by means of negotiation between both your parents.

If only you knew that this encounter should be the first impression of what should be your husband in the near future...

Frigga and Odin could only plead for their son to be on his best behavior - but well, it’s the God of Mischief we’re talking about. Must be hard to inherit such a title from your very birth.

Just when you put the little bonquet of flowers he had picked up for you towards your face to admire it, several little spiders emerged from the blossoms.

“You’re no fun.” The raven-haired boy stood a safe distance away from you, arms crossed as his gleeful laughter turned into a broad sulk. "And your ears are weird.”

“I hate you!” you screeched in your childish rage, throwing the flowers to the ground and trampling onto them. “Where’s your brother? Thor is way nicer than you!”

“Well, why don’t you marry him then?!” he mocked to cover up his hurt pride, picking up a handful of dirt and throwing it in your direction. 

“I don’t need any friends anyway...” the little boy whispered to himself, running away from the scene with tears filling the corner of his eyes. 

“I don’t need anyone. I’m way better than all of them!”

Not even Frigga was fast enough to catch up with him, while Odin uttered some fake apologies to your parents, promising them that everything will go as planned.

You on the other hand were running towards your mother, tightly grabbing onto her dress. “He’s mean! I wanna go home!”

As Queen of the Light Elves, your mother was a being full of grace and composure - and you were hoping to one day become such a formidable person as well.

She bowed down to your height, petting your hair as you rubbed the mixture of tears and dirt from your cheeks. Just her bright smile alone would sometimes be enough to make you forget about your worries - but not today.

“My sweet child” she cooed, cradling you in her arms. “One day you’ll understand.”

However, this would be the last time you paid Asgard a visit - at least until now. Because no matter how deeply you wished to never meet him again, the words your mother spoke on that day haunted you all those years:

“For this is your duty as a princess.”

[Present Day - Asgard]

It felt so unreal when you stuck your head outside of the wooden carriage, the wind playing with your hair as your glare wandered over the rainbow bridge you were crossing.

Silence strained the air, your parents unable to do even so much as look into your eyes. Hel, how you wished this was only a dream.

Behind you was a whole company of Light Elves, transporting all of your belongings to what should be your homecountry from now on.

Now there was no way back, that much was sure.

You were supposed to meet your soon-to-be husband on that very same day, one day before your wedding to be precize.

One could only guess why you weren’t allowed to visit Asgard again for all those years, even though you were practically born just for this reason - for this person.

To become Loki’s bride was your involuntary purpose, and you couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to be truly free.

Maybe your parents thought the God of Mischief to have a bad influence on their growing daughter, pulling you into his harmless yet dishonorable schemes. Or they simply feared you to refuse marrying said man if you got to know him better, finding out just what kind of person you were promised to.

Not that your parents were pleased either...everyone in the Nine Realms knew the stories.

To Odin, there was no point in hiding the disgrace his adoptive son had brought over Asgard. Not only was he responsible for an attack on Midgard, sacrificing thousands of lives for his own sake, drunken by greed for power.

But all of you were shocked to hear that Loki Odinson - or rather Laufeyson - was never Asgardian to begin with.

A Frost Giant.

Among your kind, they were known to be one of the most terrible abominations in the nine realms, and murderer of countless of your kind - and this should be the father to your future children?

Only thinking about this cruel twist of fate made you want to vomit...

So why did you agree to proceed with the preparations as if nothing had happened? How in Alfheim’s name could you reject their offer to wed you to Thor instead of that lunatic?

Was it that through your upbringing and royal duties, you had lost your own free will? Or simply fear of stepping aside the path that everyone had prepared for you?

It was probably the fact that you didn’t want to get into true love’s way...you and Thor stayed in brief contact through Heimdall, and you just knew how much that human girl meant to him.

You were kinda jealous, though...the concept of being in love was foreign to you, having a vague idea of it from novels only. But real life just wasn’t meant to be that was, was it?

You couldn’t escape your fate, that was what it was - for this treaty would unite both kingdoms, bringing peace and wealth for all of their inhabitants.

No way you could be so selfish as to decline...even if it meant you had to suffer for the rest of your life.

“My Ladyship, we have arrived!” a guard spoke as he knocked on the carriage door, with your parents hinting that you needed to step out first.

The very same guard now yelled from the pit of his lungs, making you feel the whole Kingdom of Asgard could hear. “Now arriving: Lady Y/N Y/L/N, eldest Princess of Alfheim and heir to the throne.”

You heared the people whispering as you took your first, insecure steps, blinded by the bright daylight.

“She’s so pale, like ice” or “Why are her ears like that?” were rather nice comments compared to others plainly calling you ugly, scary or a ‘disgrace’.

Of course your Kingdoms had been in a war for several decades, but this was long in the past - before your very birth, even. So what’s the reason you should bear with such hostility in the place everyone expected you to call ‘home’ from now on?

One thing was clear from the very beginning: You would never belong here.

“May I?” a dark, husky voice interrupted your self-pitying. You blinked heavily, still trying to adjust to all those golden surroundings, until your blurry vision finally cleared up.

“C’mon.” The voice belonged to the man in front of you, looking gravely nervous with sweat dripping from his forehead. He was reaching out a hand for you to take, and you gladly accepted since you didn’t want to embarass yourself further by falling out of the carriage.

And still, you managed to somehow miss a step and fall right into his arms. “Oh my, so clumsy” the man snickered as he catched you, clearing his throat as you grabbed onto his chest to regain balance. "Not very graceful for someone of your status.”

“And you are-” The words got stuck in your throat when you stared back into those eyes, their emerald green awaking memories you’d rather forgotten entirely. “L-Loki!”

“Exactly, my dear. The one and only.” Smooth and calm, he  pecked a kiss on the back of your hand, andyou couldn’t help but admire just how well he had aged: His wild locks were combed back, sharp features complimenting his face as he tried his best to give you his most innocent smile.

Yet you kept your guard up, always expecting him to somehow embarass you just for the fun of it. “When it comes to him, always expect the unexpected” Thor once warned you, and you won’t forget about it that easily.

“It’s a pleasure finally meeting you” was your firm declaration, only to be rewarded with a scoff. “You are speaking to the God of Lies, Lady Y/N - there is no use in trying to deceive me” he whispered into your ear, making you shiver in unpleasant anticipation.

“Carry her belongings to my rooms” he dismissed the servants with a simple gesture of his hand, offering his other arm for you to cling on as he escorted you through the palace.

The giant halls were almost empty, nothing like back on Alfheim where you and your brethren would enjoy each other’s company in midst of nature. A sole tear escaped your eye when you thought back to those carefree days, which are now over.

“Are you alright, m’lady?” Much to your surprise, your fiancé sounded honestly concerned about your well-being. “If you are tired, we can postpone our tour of the palace until you’ve rested.”

 “May I speak from the heart?” You gulped after finishing that sentence, scaring yourself with all the stories you’ve heared about this mad troublemaker.

Somehow you had the feeling that if you were to overstep your boundaries with that brute, it would have consequences beyond your imagination. He might seem generous and polite right this moment, but what would someone like him do if you enrage him? Countless images were circling in your head, one worse than the other.

Loki furrowed his brows, exhalinge deeply. For him, your expression was an open book to what you were thinking right now.

“Y/N, my dear Lady, if you want it or not: Starting tomorrow, we share a bond. I am deeply sorry that a veritable flower as you are had to end up with someone like me, but I promise to treat you as well as possible.”

Turning around so you’d not detect how it hurt him to speak from the heart, he added with a shaky voice “Yet there is no reason for you to hold back your hatred for me. No harm will come your way, I swear upon the little honor I have left.”

Even though his words made you feel a deep sympathy with the god, you weren’t quite sure if you could decipher truth or deceit in them. Maybe he just wanted to lure you into saying what you truly thought of him?

He’s right - you will have to spend the rest of your life with him, so don’t mess this up from the very start!

“I-I don’t hate you!” was the first thing you blurted out, grabbing onto his cloak. Loki turned around, rising his eyebrow as he scanned your face for any hint of a lie.

Althrough it was the truth, at least to a certain extend. You’ve seen each other only once, when you were still little. The rest is all tales and rumours, but you personally don’t have a reason to despise him.

There was no way you could promise to accept his past or heritage, let alone forgive him - yet as long as he’d treat you with respect, you’d return the favour.

“T-There’s just a question on my mind this whole time...aren’t you mad? I-I mean someone like- well...like you...” you gestured around awkardly, almost making him crack a smile. “I mean...I thought you wouldn’t let your parents dictate your life.”

Another deep sigh escaping his mouth, this times with his eyes closed. “This isn’t about Asgard or my adoptive parents. I choose my own path.”

Suddenly, Loki wrapped one arm around you, flicking his fingers with the free one.

“Hold onto me” he ordered indifferent as he casted his spell, teleporting both of you away before you could even comprehend, let alone ask him what he was doing.

It happened in the fraction of a second, yet felt like hovering through an empty space for an eternity.

“Now open your eyes.” You hadn’t even realized that you squeezed them shut during the shift, slowly opening them while Loki lifted your chin with his index finger.

The environment was magnificent. Had you ever seen something this beautiful in your whole life?

Obviously you had no clue where you were, but this was the first time seeing so much untouched nature on Asgard. There were flowers blooming in all colours imagineable, clear rivers crossing the lands in between grassy hills, and animals nearby a small forrest.

“It’s not like I didn’t educate myself about the Light Elves and their way of living” Loki stammered, unconsciously intertwining your fingers with yours as he watched you admiring the view. “So I could make you comfortable here, I mean.”

He plummeted down on the grass, still a little wet from the morning dew, and gestured for you to do the same. It was weird, actually, but also somehow adorable - how the infamous ‘Silver Tongue’ had lost his ability with words. “I’ve done very little right in my life full of wrongs. Hurt a lot of people.”

“Mmmhh” you hummed approvingly, not knowing what else to say - yet for some reason, you didn’t let go off of his hand, squeezing it ever so slightly.

“And even though I can’t possibly redeem myself, I wish to change for the better.” he muttered, rubbing the back of his head. “I just never knew how to start.”

Loki Odinson really was full of surprises. He was nothing like the child you’ve met long ago, and the complete opposite of what you imagined the ‘God of Mischief’ to be.

You had expected a power-hungry, selfish and cruel man to wed you - and yet there he was: Insecure and broken, only a shell of the person he once was.

Just what had you missed all those years? What things happened to break someone’s will like this?

And was he truly beyond repair?

“Those past weeks, I have visited Alfheim more times than you could comprehend” he giggled nervously, avoiding your eyes. “Concealed, of course.”

Well, that sounded kind of weird, but you knew better than to talk someone down who was just opening up to you. So your sole answer was “What for?”

“There was no way a criminal like me would still be seemed fit for this ceremony - and yet I was given this chance anyway. My mother told me that it was you who insisted on carrying on the arrangement, so...I just wanted to know what person would be willingly ruin their life.”

Something different was shining through the god’s orbs, and you couldn’t quite decipher it. Was it hope? Hope, that if you had given him a chance, his life could lead into a different direction? To change himself from the burden that was his birth title?

“I-I guess I don’t want to mess this up like I always do” he whimpered barely audible, before staring at you in shock and embarassment. Until now, he hadn’t realized just how vulnerable he made himself.

Just what the hell would you think about him now? You probably had lost any respect, or thought himself to be crazy. How weak...

So he was quick to put on the confident facade again, wearing his smug grin as if that all was just part of a big joke only he’d understand. But even though you barely knew him, he couldn’t fool you.

“Sometimes it’s enough just to try.” Your head turned from the sight of nature to your fiancé and back several times, before you brought up the courage and put a hand on his shoulder, whispering “So you can’t really mess this up.”

“Gladly you don’t seem to know yet just how much misery I cause.” He kept that thought to himself, to not scare you away.

“I am aware that you could never love someone like me, Y/N. But I can provide for you, dedicate myself to making you content with being my wife. My newfound purpose.”

The purpose of a war criminal - that sure put yourself under a lot of pressure. And still, it made you somewhat proud, and grateful as well. Because it was the first time someone valued you as a person, and not the princess of Alfheim.

Unaware of how much time had passed, both of you would get used to each other’s presence in silence, enjoying the nature while you processed this eventful day.

Exhausted from the long travel and all that rollercoaster of emotion, you soon found yourself dazzling into sleep onto Loki’s shoulder. If only you could see him adore you, staring in awe that someone could actually feel so safe in his presence.

Carefully, the god picked you up, gently lifting you on his arms to make your way back to the palace, where everyone was frantically searching for both of you. Well, Loki was used to trouble -  but right now, it was worth it.

May it be right or wrong, and even though you couldn’t explain this sentiment, you had a good feeling when it came to the things that were just about to come.

“You won’t regret your decision, Y/N Y/L/N. On my side, I assure you a bright future.”

[struggling-with-time]

Cousin of a cousin’s wedding [Corpse x reader]

Paring: Corpse husband x Gender neutral!reader

Series: And they were roommates

Summary: “Fake dating au” requested by anon

Warnings: angst

Words: 2.2K

A/N: I’m sorry this took so long, it was supposed to be around 750 words... 

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

You barely remember the conversation leading up to the now 7-hour drive. Corpse had asked you to be his date for the cousin of a cousin’s wedding, he didn’t want to feel awkward all night so bringing you along would help a lot.

However you were now sitting in the car packed for the weekend about 2 hours down the road when Corpse had dropped the bomb.

“Could you pretend to be my partner? I just don’t want my aunts to bother me all night about dating, and then when you don’t leave my side all night won’t be looked upon as weird.”

You had never met more than his initiate family so of course you would be staying close to him, but this was a bit unexspected, and now you were going to be in love with him for a whole weekend only to have it ripped out of your reach Sunday afternoon. You knew you should say no, this could only end in catastrophy. But your voiced betrayed you, as you heard it answer him.

“Of course, I don’t mind.” Yes you did, you did mind a lot. What were you doing? You were screaming at yourself on the inside, while kindly smiling to the squirming Corpse beside you. You observed a wave of relief hit his face.

“Thank you, Y/N you’re my savior. I own you one.” He breathes out, why was he so stupid? Oh god now he had to act like he didn’t want to kiss you badly behind closed door but be able to express it free in the open. Why could he not just have kept his mouth shut? At least his aunts will be easier to deal with. They were the worst part of any family gathering.

The two of you got lost in music, both needing to escape from the impending doom each of your minds was trying to show you was going to happen.

You finally pull up to the estate of the wedding, Corpse looking as out of place as you feel. It was bright and everything was baby pink and baby blue. You have by now realized, you have no clue who the bride and groom are, and Corpse doesn’t seem to completely be sure either. This is going to be a rollercoaster of a weekend.

The two of you grab your bags, as you close the car Corpse is standing beside you, now packed with both bags and a hand outstretch. Oh yeah, couple. You have to be a couple for the weekend. This is fine. Totally. You can keep your cool. You look away as you take his hand, trying to keep the blush creeping up to you a bay.

Corpses eyes are fixated on your hand together, your hand just fit so perfectly in his, he knows he’s going to be keeping it in his now for as long as possible the rest of the weekend. He stands by watching as you check the two of you in under Corpses name, he can hear you ask if there is a possibility to get room service. He doesn’t register the answer, just the squeeze of your hand, as you can feel him start to lean back and forth on his feet.

Corpse lets out a breath as he puts your bags down on the bed, it’s a double bed. You’ve slept together before. It has been some time, but it’s not something that has never happened before. Corpse falls down onto the bed feeling how soft it is.

“Corpse! You can’t sleep now, we still have to greet everyone, but I wouldn’t mind missing it.” You sigh as you begin to open your bags and take out your outfits for tomorrow, and the rehearsal dinner tonight. You hang them up next to each other on the closet door.  You admire them, how in the world are you going to be paying attention to anyone but Corpse?

Corpse has pushed himself onto his elbows curious at your sudden silence, looking at your two outfits for the weekend, mirroring your thoughts. How in the world is going to be paying attention to anything but you?

“You’re…” He swallows “You’re going to be wearing that?” You turn around beaming at him

“Yes! Do you like it?” You take off the rehearsal outfit of its hanger and does the same with his. You’re excited to see him in a suit for the first time. It’s going to be a sight for ages, and you know it. You don’t notice Corpse flops back onto the bed.

Y/N is going to be the death of me. That is the only thought running through Corpses head as you begin to get ready for the greetings and the rehearsal dinner.  

“You’re going to look very… Nice?” Why did you say it like that Corpse? He nearly smacks himself in the head out of regret.

He finally rolls off the bed as you throw his outfit at him, ignoring his comment, not knowing how to take it, was it a compliment?

The two of you finish up, both trying to subtly check the other out, too busy to notice the other checking them out. You can smell the tension three doors down the hall.

He offers you his arm, and you happily take it after locking up the room you’ve been lodged into. You relish in the feeling of him leading you for as long as possible until you end up in the now bit crowed area of the lounge. You can feel Corpse tensing, so you do the only thing you can think of.

“Baby, it’s okay, I’m right here.” You reassure him. He smiles down at you. clearly already feeling calmer from knowing you’re there.

Baby?? Baby?? Y/N called you baby, and you didn’t do anything. Corpses thoughts are running wild of other nicknames he can suddenly hear you call him in the next two days.

He introduces you to a couple of cousins he vaguely remembers meeting when he was young. But a lot of the people there, he hasn’t met either. You were the more outgoing of the two of you. Which was kind of like being the tallest dwarf. You to what everyone tells you, and you nod at the right time. Corpse hasn’t been listening to anyone else since you came down here. You’ve invaded all of his mind in that outfit and by just being there, hearing you call him your partner, and baby. He’s whipped and you’re not even his.

The rehearsal dinner goes well, you’re seated between some people Corpse hasn’t met either, so the two of you keep to yourself. You’re chatting along, and having fun, both enjoying the couples part, having a bit of fun trash talking some of the others when you can see them be rude to the servers.

After dinner you greet the bride and groom, they seem nice, the bride like so many others vaguely remembers Corpse from that one family gathering back in that aunts house ages ago. They tell you they’re happy that he has finally found someone to take care of him, you thank them. Corpse is clearly embarrassed by the whole ordeal.

Another half an hour of mingling goes by before the bar is open and you tell Corpse you’ll be right back with something to drink.

You try to get the bartenders attention, but he seems preoccupied with flirting with an elderly woman down the bar, seemingly willing to give him tips. That’s when a man approaches you, he’s cleanly shaven and like so many others in an expensive suit.

“Here let me help you.” He tell you, before whistling, making the bartender come over.

“Thank you,” you tell him, before you give your order to the bartender.

“What’s someone like you doing hanging over by the bar?” He asks

“The same as you,” you can already tell where this is going, and can feel the dread creeping up on you for having answered.

“Then have the drink with me.” He offers ever so politely, you glance after the bartender. Hoping for him to come back soon.

“No thanks, I’ll be alright.” You tell him, and starts looking for Corpse in the crowd, but you can no longer see the place where you left him standing.

“C’mon it’s just one drink.” He persist, “it’ll be on my tab.”

“I’m sorry, I’m here with someone tonight.” You decline once again. Hoping for the drinks to be finished soon.

“One drink, just one.” He offers again.

“I think my partner here made it very clear. No.” You can hear the deep voice behind you, you lean into his arms as they embrace you from around the stomach. If you weren’t wrong you could hear a hint pf possessiveness in his voice, and that sent the right kinds of chills down your spine.

The man puts his hand up. “It was just a lighthearted offer, nothing to be making a fuss about.” He walks away.

You look up at Corpse, your drinks forgotten, the two of you just wanting to rest. You head for the bedroom, knowing there will be an even longer day in front of you tomorrow.

As you strip down in the bathroom you call out to Corpse.

“You know I could have handled that myself, right?”

“I know, doesn’t mean that you always have to though.” He calls back.

The two of you settle comfortably into bed, you can feel Corpse pull you into him, and you let him do it.

You’re awakened by the sun streaming in through the windows. Corpse is already up and showering, you yawn as you get out of bed, and look over the outfits for the day. There was a breakfast buffe, but the two of you settle with room service, and a nice silent morning together.

You take your time to get ready, as the two of you aren’t invited to the church, which is understandable. You have no clue how many you are here, but the small church attached to the large manor, doesn’t seem to be able to fit everyone attending.

You fix Corpse tie, as you finish up and check over yourself. The two of you linger close, before you pull away and dust down his jacket with your hand.

The dinner is what Corpse has been dreading the most. His aunts. They’ll be seated at the same table as you. Which means every aspect of his life will be scrutinized with certainty.

You let him lead you to the table, minimizing the amount of time you must mingle with others. The couple gets introduced and then the first course is served. This is when the first of the 4 aunts around you starts to question your life. What jobs do you have? Did you ever finish college? Why aren’t you more like my children?

You put your hand on Corpses thigh, and you can feel him melt underneath your touch. He puts his hand on top of yours, as he tries to calmly answer every question that gets thrown at you. but his mind keep wandering to the hand that’s burning a hole through his trousers.

The speeches flies by as the two of you go back into your little couple bubble, as you have dubbed it in your own mind. You know by tomorrow noon the spell will be broken, but you will enjoy every bit until then. By the time desert rolls around, both you and Corpse have gotten a bit of alcohol inside and is ready to hit the bar when desert finally gets taken off the table.

You giggle at something he said as he whispers it into your ear. You’re both drunk, and both having forgotten the couple thing was to help Corpse calm his nerves. The next thing you remember is the headache you had when you woke up.

You remember waking up and realizing you had significantly less on than usual when heading to bed. The scared look on Corpses face when you met his eyes explained enough for you.

The two of you packed your things in silence, only talking to each other, when thanking the newly weds for their hospitality, before heading to the car. Riding 7 hours in silence back to your apartment in San Diego. The spell certainly broken.

How you both wished that it had been real, and how you both wished you knew how to bring up what had happened and tell the other you wouldn’t mind continuing like that. Instead you both kept your mouths shot, with your minds running more miles per hours than the car.

[lalainajanes]

For the square “water park” on my Klarosummerbingo card! Might be my worst title ever but it’s actually better than the original one so  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Slip and Slide

Caroline speedwalks through the lobby, weaving around people who seem to think it’s the appropriate place for an early morning stroll. “Hold the elevator!” she calls, ignoring the few disgruntled looks she receives.

She hadn’t been that loud, and she’s nearly late for a critical meeting. It’s the first one with a new client, and she’d hate to make a bad first impression.

She’d had to head to the dry cleaners before work, had gotten caught in a traffic snarl in an area she wasn’t that familiar with, and it had taken her way too long to figure out the detour. She should have left her place earlier.

She gets to the security gates, juggling a garment bag, her briefcase, and a portfolio. Her ID seems to be just out of reach, and she jams her hand further into her purse. Albert, her favorite guard, murmurs, “Take a breath, Ms. Forbes.”

She blows one out, frustrated. Rolls her shoulders in an attempt to relax. “Sorry. I’m just…”

“Stressed? I can tell.”

Yikes. Caroline hopes that doesn’t mean her hair has exploded.

She smiles weakly, “Big day today.”

A brand new project, after the last one had been a disaster. Caroline’s comfortable with stress, thrives on high stakes, but she could totally use a win.

Her fingers touch the familiar edge of her badge, and she pulls it out triumphantly. She taps it on the sensor, walks through the revolving gate. “Good luck, Ms. Forbes,” Alfred murmurs as she passes.

It’s a little thing, but Caroline feels a little better knowing someone’s rooting for her.

She’s relieved to spot that one of the elevators is open, a man holding the door, his eyes on her. She doesn’t recognize him, but that doesn’t mean anything. The building has 55 floors, offices for more than two dozen companies within it. He’s dressed in a suit, like the vast majority of the men she sees in the building. His is nicer than most, charcoal grey, perfectly fitted, with a very subtle pinstripe that she only notices when she gets closer. Caroline hurries into the car gratefully. She leans forward, punches 32. “Thank you so much,” she says to him, turning so they’re shoulder to shoulder. “You’re a lifesaver.”

The man on her other side makes a noise, a tiny scoff. Caroline glances at him quizzically. He’s stoic, eyes forward, but she’s sure there’s a hint of amusement on his face.

An arm brushes against hers, drawing her attention. “Feel free to ignore him,” the man who’d held the elevator says. His voice is low, smooth and she’d be charmed by the accent if they’d met in a social situation.

Or any situation, if she’s honest.

“My brother would probably describe me as more of a troublemaker.”

Huh. She hadn’t have figured brothers. They’ve both got attractive and well-dressed going for them but little other familial resemblance. Caroline’s head swings back, “Are you a trouble maker?”

His amusement is plain. His full lips curl, and deep dimples appear in his cheeks.

Oh yeah. Definitely a trouble maker.

“I’m about twenty minutes early for my meeting today; how much of a trouble maker can I be?” His tone is playful, a touch too innocent to be believed.

Damn it. Caroline does not have time for an attractive man this morning. At least she hadn’t changed into the frumpier outfit in the garment bag. Hopefully, she’ll run into this guy again.

“I think I need more info. Could be a one-time thing. I’m almost late for my meeting, which is wildly out of character.”

“Not the trusting sort, are you?”

Caroline shrugs, raising her brows expectantly.

He laughs briefly, “Well, I did send an email ahead to inquire about the coffee preferences of the team I’m meeting. I’m stopping at one of the cafes to pick it up now. Would a troublemaker do that?”

“Hmm, maybe. Could be an underhanded tactic to get on a good side before the trouble starts.”

Dimples’ brother chimes in again, dry this time. “I believe your assistant sent that email. And that she learned the practice from my assistant.”  

Dimples glowers, and Caroline must admit this is a delightful distraction from her anxiety. She glances up at the panel above the door and is disappointed to find they’re almost on her floor. “If you’re going to the café on 36, I recommend the oatmeal raisin cookies. Most people go chocolate chip. Trust me, that’s a mistake.”

The elevator pings, the doors sliding open. Caroline smiles, hitches her briefcase higher on her shoulder. “This is me. Thanks again.”

The receptionist spots Caroline, stands up, a sheaf of papers in her hands, and Caroline’s reminded about how much she has to do. She hurries out, her heels clicking across the shiny tiles of the lobby.

She still glances back at the elevator, can’t help smiling, pleased, when she finds her new friend from the elevator watching her as the doors close.

Even if she never sees him again, he’d made her morning a little brighter.

Now, though, it’s time to work.

* * * * *

Fifteen minutes later, Caroline’s pacing in her office. She’s pinned her hair back and changed into the purple pantsuit she’d picked up at the dry cleaners. It’s a great color but not the most flattering fit. The pants are fine, but the jacket’s boxy, and she’s wearing a plain pink blouse underneath, buttoned to her throat, a thick silver necklace threaded through the collar. There’s a pair of glasses perched on her nose, and she’d changed into sensible flats.

She’d learned her lesson last time, at the first meeting where she’d been the project lead. She’d been called ‘Honey’ and other more annoying pet names and asked to serve coffee and fetch snacks. She’d received skepticism when she’d introduced herself. By the end of that first meeting, Caroline had wanted to scream her credentials – a B.A. and a Master’s in Civil Engineering, a whole pile of certifications, several prestigious internships, and stellar work references, thank you very much – at most of the people in the room.

Ultimately, the project had been successful, but Caroline had experienced frequent bursts of frustration that bordered on rage. Her suggestions were met with questions that made it clear her intelligence was doubted, her corrections with condescension, even though she’d usually been the only one in the room with any significant scientific expertise.

Expertise that’s kind of crucial in designing a water park. It wouldn’t have been a good look, or a sound investment, if guests were to end up injured or dead after paying exorbitant ticket prices and expecting a fun day.

Her skin has thickened considerably, but Caroline hopes that’s less necessary this time. Her boss had assured her that this job would be easier, and Caroline’s choosing to believe her. It’s even potentially exciting – these clients own several international resorts, the park she’s pitching on will be built in Spain.

Being project leader, she’d traveled to oversee construction on the nightmare build, but Tennessee doesn’t carry quite the same appeal as the Spanish coast, at least from the photos Caroline’s seen.

At the very least, it can’t be a worse experience. She hopes.

She hears Katherine coming her way, takes a final deep breath before Kat breezes into her office. “What are you wearing?” Kat asks, sounding both mystified and vaguely disgusted. She pauses in front of Caroline, fingers pinching her lapel and tugging. “Is this polyester?”

“Maybe. I thrifted it.”

Katherine’s face twists in the sort of revulsion one would expect if Caroline confessed to grave robbing the ensemble.

“Ew, why?”

“Figured I needed a costume. To make sure that this time, no one in there thinks to call me ‘sweet cheeks.’”

She’d been paired with another designer last time, Matt Donovan, who was a nice enough guy but had been pretty useless in the having her back department. Caroline likely wouldn’t have cried into her Ben and Jerry’s quite so often had Katherine been her partner. Kat has the unique and impressive ability to make demands and issue orders and have people thank her for it.

Kat snorts, “Elijah Mikaelson would never. He’s aggressively polite. I haven’t spoken to him yet, but I doubt Niklaus would either. I assume he has the same hot accent.”

That’s a new name. Caroline doesn’t like surprises. “And who is Niklaus?”

“A brother. And a business partner. He wasn’t originally scheduled to be here but is unexpectedly in town. What do you think the British equivalent to sweet cheeks is?”

Caroline’s eyes go wide, a few puzzle pieces clicking together. British brothers, twenty minutes early for a meeting. What are the odds?

Crap. Had she been flirting with a client? In front of another client?

There’s a tap at the door, her boss’ assistant’s head poking in, “They’re ready for you in the conference room.”

Ugh. Maybe she’s cursed.

* * * * * 

The presentation goes fantastically.

Katherine had been correct – the Mikaelsons don’t seem to labor under the misapprehension that a conventionally attractive blonde woman can’t grasp complex concepts. They’d shaken her hand when she’d arrived; Niklaus (or Klaus, as he apparently prefers) had looked a bit puzzled when they’d been introduced, Caroline had chalked that up to the outfit. He’d said it was nice to see her again. Explaining her mad dash to the elevator, and Klaus’ assistance, to the room had broken the ice nicely.

Kat kicks them off, and her design is gorgeous; Elijah and Klaus appear suitably impressed. When it’s Caroline’s turn, her nerves fall away by her second PowerPoint slide. She knows her stuff backward and forward, and she’s incredibly pleased with her innovation.

She also begins to feel less bad about the flirting once she sees that Kat throws Elijah a few looks that are borderline inappropriate for the office (that he seems pretty pleased with).

They ask questions, pour over the mock-ups and technical drawings Caroline and Katherine had prepared. Their ideas are actually good, which is a nice contrast for the last project. She’d done far too much lying and finessing to attempt to steer the previous park into a less terrible direction. The Mikaelsons have far fewer notes than Caroline had anticipated, and she promises to put together an update ASAP. They schedule another meeting.

She thinks Klaus’ handshake lingers when they say goodbye, but maybe she’s just riding high on adrenaline and imagining things.

She kind of hopes she isn’t. It’s probably too messy to date a client, but a girl can fantasize, can’t she?

Caroline helps herself to the cookie tray, pleased by the generous helping of oatmeal raisin she finds. Kat’s disappeared, but she knows their boss will want to debrief. Caroline collapses into one of the conference chairs, pulls out her phone to check her messages.

She replies to a few emails before she notices one that’s just arrived.

 Hello Caroline,

I enjoyed your presentation today. I look forward to the next.

Warmly,

Klaus

 She grins to herself, slumps lower in her chair. Clearly, she hadn’t imagined anything if Klaus is emailing her when he’s barely out of the building. She takes a risk and sends a slightly more casual reply than she’d usually attempt at this point.

If he reacts badly, she can up the formality later on. If he doesn’t, well… she’s only fostering a good working relationship. That’ll be essential if they land this contract.

And she’s like 90% sure it’s in the bag.

 Hi Klaus,

Thank you!

The photos your team sent over of the location were gorgeous; both Kat and I were inspired. I think this is some of our best work to date. I’m excited to dive into the updates and meet again next week.

Best,

Caroline

P.S. Thanks for the cookies.

His reply comes minutes later.

Caroline,

I believe it. Your work is impressive, as I’m sure your new ideas will be. Have you ever been to Spain? The pictures hardly do it justice.

Warmly,

Klaus

P.S. You’re welcome. Which coffee order was yours?

 Well, that’s the opposite of a bad reaction.

Caroline sets her phone aside, tells herself she has to be smart here. She’s reasonably sure she’s not doing anything that’s prohibited. The emails will speak for themselves, and they live on the company server. Neither she nor Klaus are offering anything untoward for the contract. If things go well, she may just have to fill out an HR disclosure form. She’ll double-check the firm’s code of conduct.

Just in case.

[sombreboy]

Corrupted | yandere!myg

▎ 18+ ▎ xtremity; 6 ▎ pairing: yandere!myg x y/n ▎ genre: smut, mafia au ▎ word count: 5.8k ▎ warnings: toxic/possessive behavior, myg cuts kth, oral(f!rec), cursing/dirtytalk, unprotected sex. 

You're the sweetest of fruits, the aura of purity surrounding you sparks a fire within Min Yoongi that has him utterly smitten with an obsessive need for you in every way possible. He brings you into his world as his personal secretary, but in reality he doesn't need it. What he craves with his entire being is to corrupt the pure angel that is you with his carnal desires.

Min Yoongi.

The most powerful and renown of men within the mafia realm.

Feared by companies, feared by men, desired by women.

He's extremely intelligent and a delicate planner, loyal to the bone if you've earned it & utterly merciless, thus have grown to become what people would call an invincible man. No one dared to try to play him at this point. Many have tried, and they'd be politely greeted with their boss' heart on a silver platter. And word travels fast

With a flick of his wrist he could end anybody's opportunities and connections.

Everyone wanted to become his ally, because if you can't beat them, join them, as they say.

And with power, comes responsibility.. And a disgusting amount of wealth.

Dirty cash, yes. But money is money to him.

Throughout the years he'd been building his empire, starting from the bottom until he's so high up nobody could dream to get even remotely close to his level.

But something was missing in Min Yoongi's Life.

Even with this incredible amount of power, which he loved... He loved it, the power kink he's developed ingrained within him along with other questionable ways of getting his adrenaline pumping.

But he's grown quite bored of the one night stands. Those girls were already dirty, corrupted and let him do whatever he wanted. They were gladly a whore for his cash, and it was a fun time killer for a while... But it's grown oh so dull.

As if fate was on his side (hah), his world was turned around when he was going through the sent in applications for the position to become his personal secretary. He technically didn't need it, but 'some work load off his shoulders' didn't sound all too bad, as his right hand Taehyung had urged him to finally do something about.

He sighed in disappointment as he flipped through the resumes. To be honest, he didn't bother to read most of them, and simply took a quick glance at the photos provided of the applicant.

''Hey boss, did you look through the apps yet?''

Taehyung carefully closed the door behind him before strolling up to stand next to Yoongi's large office chair, bending slightly to get a view of the papers as well.

''I am currently, as you can probably tell.'' Yoongi answered, a mild annoyance in his voice as he crumples up one of the papers into a ball before throwing it at Taehyung, whom only scoffs in amusement.

''What about this one? She's very qualified.'' Taehyung continues as he leans over the desk to point at the woman's previous experiences.

Yoongi sighs, ''She's perfectly qualified, but if you look closely you can also see that she's worked for one of our competitors. Can't trust that.''

Taehyung raises his eyebrows followed with a quiet 'ah', skimming through the stack of papers himself in silence.

That's when Min Yoongi suddenly leaned forward in his chair, causing it to shriek out by the sudden movement, startling Taehyung.

''Let me see that one again. Go back.''

Taehyung's eyebrows were drawn together in confusion, but he did as told and went back to the one resume his boss seemed oddly interested in. He picked it out of the stack, and quickly Yoongi snatched it from his hands to put it flat down on the desk in front of him.

''Boss, she's not qualified at all...''

''Silence.''

Yoongi fished out his reading glasses from his pocket and put them on, bringing the paper closer to his face to get a proper look at your face. His tongue snaked out to wet his lips, a common habit of his when in deep focus. A new feeling came to life within his usually so monotone soul. Well, it wasn't new... He knew exactly what this emotion was.

''I want her here by tomorrow, Taehyung.'' He said as he handed the paper over to his right hand man.

Taehyung was shocked, and it was obvious in his expression, ''T-tomorrow? That's such a short notice, Yoon-''

''I'm sorry, but did it sound like I was asking you, Mr. Kim? Tomorrow, 9 a.m Sharp. I shall have her desk in order for her outside of my office by then.''

Taehyung looked at your photo as he licked his lips in thought. He's seen this look on his friend-... boss this way only once before. And it didn't end well, because he ...'let her go', as he'd been told to phrase it.

''Yes... I'm on it, right away.''

Yoongi observed his right hand man exiting his office, a fire burning up in his core as he clasped his hands on the table whilst staring blankly into nothingness.

This time he wouldn't make the same mistake.

This time he'd have more self control. He's certain of it.

You were over the moon when the news reached you over the phone, a certain Mr. Kim personally congratulating you for being hired as the secretary for the Mr. Min Yoongi himself.

You'd been throwing out resumes everywhere, and never in a million years did you expect to hear back from this one. It was a long shot, but turns out that miracles do happen.

''Thank you, thank you for this opportunity, Mr. Kim!''

A vibrating chuckle echoed through the call, ''Don't thank me, Mr. Min personally asked me to hire you.''

You remained silent, not able to properly register what was just said.

So Taehyung continued,

''He also requires you to be available to start right away, tomorrow. 9 a.m.''

You choked on your own breath, ''Tomorrow? That's..''

''A very short notice, I'm aware. But there is no room for negotiation, so if you would please accomodate to his wishes...''

You nodded, blushing when you realize he can't see you, so you croax out,

''Y-yes, It's no problem. I'll come tomorrow.''

Taehyung giggles, this time sounding a lot more lighthearted,

''9 a.m, don't be late. Good luck- I mean... Congratulations. It will be a pleasure to work with you.''

And with that, this Mr. Kim hung up on you, leaving you in the silence on the other end.

A wide smile spread across your face as you went to bed that night, excited for new opportunities and a higher paycheck.

8.45 a.m

You anxiously stepped into the grand building entrance, dressed in your favorite work appropriate outfit.

It was simple, really; A cream white dress-shirt fitted to your curves with a flattering v-neck, matched with a black waist high pencil skirt that ended just above your knees, topped off with a pair of cute, black low heels.

You were greeted by a handsome young man standing by the front desk, confidently striding over to you with a box-shaped smile on his lips as he reached his hand out to grab yours,

''Good morning, Miss L/N. Im Kim Taehyung, you spoke with me on the phone last night. On time, even a little early. You're putting in a good impression already.'

You bow before accepting his hand, which he shakes lightly before letting go. He gestures with his hand for you to follow him into the elevator.

Standing there, he presses the button to the floor on the very top, watching the doors close before redirecting his attention to you,

''If you have any questions regarding any matter, don't hesitate to ask me. It is my job after all.''

He looked almost apologetic, and you shoot him a soft smile,

''Thank you. I'm curious, actually...''

''Anything at all, I will do my best to answer you.''

''Well,'' You shift the weight on your feet, ''I don't really know much about secretary work... And I'm quite nervous that I won't live up to Mr.Min's expectations.''

Taehyung's smile softens, a vague hint of concern in his eyes. He puts his hand on your shoulder in reassurance,

''Don't worry too much. That's why I'm here, to teach you and guide you. We know your experience isn't as high as it could've been, but Mr. Min insisted for it to be you.''

You look up at him with confusion, ''Why did he insist?''

Taehyung bit his lip, knowing he probably said too much. He shook his head with a dismissive smile,

''I believe he saw potential, and the fact that you have no past experience means we don't have to worry about other companies being behind you to try to get at our company.''

You froze for a second, his choice of words kind of didn't make sense to you. But before you were able to say anything else, the elevator doors opened.

Taehyung let his hand move from your shoulder to the small of your back to guide you out of the elevator, ushering you to walk next to him.

He halted at a big desk in the lobby outside of an office with a big sign hanging on the door,

Mr. Min Yoongi.

You put your purse down on the big desk. Your desk. It was a lot fancier than you imagined, and the large office chair looked extremely comfortable and high end, almost like a throne.

Meanwhile, Taehyung knocked on the office door to your new boss and carefully opened it, leaning in to announce your arrival. He came back out, nudging his chin in the office's direction,

''He's waiting for you.''

''Oh, I better head in then. I'm nervous...'' You straightened out the pencil skirt while Taehyung walked up closer to you with a reassuring smile, placing his hand on your shoulder once more before speaking,

''Good luck.''

And with that, he returned to the elevator, a small wave thrown your way before the doors closed on him.

You took a deep breath, straightening your posture before carefully opening the door, peeking inside.

''Don't be shy. Come in.''

Closing the door behind you, you finally let out the breath you've been holding. He beckoned for you to come closer,

''Have a seat.''

You sit down in front of him, hands clasped in your lap as you finally get a good look at the man you're now working for.

He was incredibly good looking, pale clear skin, blonde hair that was neatly styled to frame his face. He was dressed in a very expensive suit, definitely personally tailored to fit his frame like a glove.

His eyes, however, were completely unreadable. Beautiful, yes, the feline-like shape and intense stare piercing through you like a sharpened knife, but there was no indication of any emotion whatsoever.

Until his lips curled up in a gummy-like smile, instantly softening his entire expression. He was almost too beautiful.

To be honest, you had expected somebody older. Much older, considering the grand Company and it's reputation (which you didn't know that much of, but you did a tiny bit of research before getting here.).

''What are you thinking about?'' He interrupted your thoughts.

You smiled shyly, looking down at your lap, twiddling your fingers anxiously,

''It's silly...''

He leaned forward, his chin resting in his palm as he keeps his gaze fixed on you with genuine interest,

''Tell me.''

You nod, one hand running through your hair to put strands of it behind your ear. The action alone had Yoongi's chest erupt into fireworks, mouth already watering at the flustered state you're in. He loved feeling so powerful, the status difference between the two of you so apparent.

''Well, I was just thinking that you weren't at all how I imagined the Min Yoongi to be.''

He tilted his head to the side, a smirk playing on his lips,

''Oh? Then what did you imagine 'The Min Yoongi' to be?''

''I kind of imagined you as an old man, considering..'' You gesture around you to emphasize, ''All of this. How did you manage to create all of this at such an age.''

He scoffed, amused, ''Understandable.''

''It's just impressive, is all.''

The praise hit him differently. He's never heard his success to be described as 'impressive', and he's sure you wouldn't say that if you knew the things he'd done to get here. But still... When it came from your lips, he almost felt proud.

''And now you're part of it.''

A long moment of silence followed, Yoongi simply keeping his eyes on you as if he's dissecting you with his eyes. You slowly started to feel fidgety, not sure what to do or say in this situation, and he was thriving off of it. The uncertainty in your eyes, the way you kept playing with your hair. He finally broke the silence by pulling out a stack of documents from his desk drawer and dropping it in front of you with a loud thud, causing you to jump in your chair.

''I want you to digitalize these documents for me and then send them to my e-mail. Everything is set up for you on the computer by your desk, and if you have any questions just call for Mr. Kim or give me a knock.''

You were surprised by the sudden change from conversation to business, but you stood up and took the Heavy stack of documents into your arms, bowing politely at your boss,

''Yes.''

He placed his hands on his hips, clacking his tongue once in disapproval,

''In here, you're to address me as Sir... So, try again.''

You exhaled quietly, his entire change in demeanor making you feel both weak and excited at once,

''Yes, sir.''

He nodded, a flick of his wrist to usher for you to leave.

''Good girl. Dismissed.''

You bowed once more, a blush on your cheeks before hurrying out of his office to get to work.

Yoongi threw himself back against the backrest of his chair with a groan as soon as the door closed behind you. Hissing curses to himself as he looked down on his lap, the strained fabric caging his prominent erection had given him hell Throughout the entire conversation. How did you affect him so greatly?

Fuck, he wanted you so badly already.

He wanted to take this slower. He really did. Give you time... Enough time to maybe love him too.

But he's so incredibly impatient.

''Min Yoongi... Control yourself.'' He whispered to himself as he palmed himself through the fabric of his dress pants, a soft, vibrating groan rumbling in his chest at the thought of you on your knees underneath his desk.

Just a little more patience.

You were finally getting the hang of this, but you sure hoped he didn't expect you to finish this entire stack today. It was way too much.

You leaned back into your chair with a sigh, glancing over at the Clock.

Crap, you hadn't eaten lunch yet! And the day just literally flew by.

Just as if on call, Taehyung waltzed out of the elevator with a big boxy grin on his face as he came up to you.

''Hello, secretary. I was gonna ask if you've had your lunch yet? Me and some coworkers are having some takeout on the floor below if you'd like to join.''

You were almost about to say no, but then your stomach protested,

''Actually, that would be Lovely. I'm starving!''

You got up and walked towards the elevator with Taehyung before halting, glancing over at your boss' office.

''What about Mr. Min?''

Taehyung shrugged, ''He never eats with us.''

You pout, ''Do you ever ask?''

Tae looks guilty, ''Not lately.''

''What?! I bet he's super hungry too, I'm gonna ask.''

You strode over to the office door without a thought, not listening to Taehyung's protests in the back before knocking and opening the door without waiting, peeking in to simply see the back of Yoongi's chair facing you.

''Sir?''

The chair turned around slowly, the very same handsome man as you saw this morning looking slightly less put together in a way staring back at you. Something was different, yet not.

''What can I do for you, y/n?''

''I-I was just... gonna ask if you wanted to come with me and Tae- Mr. Kim downstairs for lunch...If you're not too busy.''

You didn't know why, but the air felt thicker in his office, and you felt as if you shrunk underneath his gaze.

He licked his lips in thought before nodding,

''I'll be right there. Go ahead without me.''

You couldn't help but smile, giving him a nod before closing the door, heading back to Taehyung, who's looking at you dumbfounded.

''He rejected you, didn't he? I told you he-''

You held up your hand to silence Taehyung, a victorious smile on your lips,

''He said he's coming, but we could go ahead.''

Taehyung's jaw dropped before breaking into an amused smile, ''No way...''

Yoongi stood up from his chair, taking a moment to take a good look at himself in the large body mirror on his wall. He ran his fingers through his hair as to fix the slight mess he'd caused. How inconvenient that you'd walked in on him just after he'd relieved himself off some well needed stress.

How couldn't he, you drove him mad, his body is aching for you already.

He was surprised that you'd asked him to join you for lunch, and part of him was thrilled. This was a good step, a good development. You must already feel something for him. You're closer to being wrapped around his finger.

As he made his way down to the staff room, he saw you sitting with his other employees, chatting and smiling. You looked gorgeous.

But Yoongi was boiling at the way you smiled, because it wasn't directed towards him, but towards his own right hand man, Taehyung. And he had the audacity to smile back, sitting way too close to you.

The entire room fell silent when they noticed Yoongi's presence, he casually sat down across from you at the table, as the space next to you was already occupied by Taehyung.

''W-welcome, boss.'' Jung Hoseok exclaimed with an uncertain smile.

Yoongi nodded in acknowledgement,

''What are we having?''

You smiled widely, completely oblivious to the tension between the others at his presence, pushing forward a takeout box in front of him,

''Chinese! It's delicious, try it!''

Yoongi scrunched his nose. He hadn't had takeout in years, accustomed to a more expensive taste at this point. But it was you... You offered this to him. The others anxiously shared looks, knowing that if they were the ones who would've so casually offered this to him, he wouldn't have reacted all that kindly.

''Thank you.'' He simply responded as he opened it, grabbing a pair of chopsticks before calmy diggin into it.

Everyone's eyes widened, but as soon as Yoongi looked up they hurried to continue eating and chatting as if their stern boss didn't just THANK the new employee.

You smiled, ''Good, huh?''

Yoongi nods, saying nothing as he chews his food. He almost looked harmless, cute even with the way his cheeks puffed up when they were full of food.

You turned to Taehyung to continue a conversation that you had going on before Yoongi's arrival. He listened in, and it was purely business talk, but the way you were leaned in and so casually addressing his by his birth name had Yoongi's blood boiling once again. This was no good. His right hand man knows that you were his, his only. HIS. He better step back on the casualty.

Taehyung didn't. He smiled back, conversing way too nicely the entire lunch, and it did nothing but spur Yoongi's possessiveness on.

He's too far gone. He knew that. There's no way he'd be able to wait longer, he needed to claim you before anyone else did. At least that's how it felt in his world.

Yoongi put his food back on the table when he finished, taking a sip of his water before standing back up, making the chair scrape and screech against the floors which silences everyone once more.

''I'm heading back. Thank you for the lunch.''

Everyone bows and nods at their boss, including you. He gives Taehyung a piercing glare before saying one last thing,

''Mr. Kim, stop by my office when you're finished.''

''You asked for me, boss?''

As he's done countless of times before, he steps inside of Yoongi's office, striding over to stand in front of the familiar desk. He kept his hands in the pockets of his dresspants, swallowing tightly as to where his adam's apple bobs heavily. He knows it couldn't be good.

''Sit down, get comfortable.. Why would you act as if I'm a stranger to you, hm?''

Taehyung hesitantly sits down in front of Yoongi, whom is sitting frozen in Place with his hands clasped together on the table before speaking once more,

''Mr. Kim Taehyung. You're my right hand, aren't you?''

Taehyung nods.

''But first and foremost, you're also my friend, correct?''

''Correct..''

''So you're loyal to me, no? You'd do anything to prove your loyalty?''

Taehyung didn't like where this was going, but he nodded with a confused expression.

Yoongi suddenly lunges forward, a tight fist grabbing onto Taehyung's collar to pull him forward over the desk until their faces are merely inches apart.

''Then you will understand why I am doing what I am about to do.'' Yoongi growls out.

Taehyung reaches up to claw at Yoongis tight hold, gasping for air,

''W-what the fuck Yoongi... Let go!''

Yoongi holds him in an iron claw grip as his other hand reaches to grab onto Taehyung's wrist, then lets his collar go. Taehyung gasps for air, not registering when Yoongi pushes Tae's palm flat down on the desk Surface and holds in in Place as he reaches for something in his desk drawer.

''Boss, what is this about, w-what are you– FUCK! WHAT THE FUCK!''

Taehyung whines out in pain when Yoongi had pulled out a small, golden plated knife and didn't hesitate for even a second before letting it chomp down at the tip of Taehyung's ring finger. It was just enough to cause immense pain, a bleeding, but not so much that it'd be noticeable in the long run. He had considered taking a whole finger, but since Taehyung was his closest friend, he felt generous.

Yoongi let go and sat back down in his chair, calmly watching Taehyung hiss and curse as he hid his finger to keep pressure in the fabric of his shirt. He looked up at his boss with anger, and fear, and Disappointment.

''What the fuck was that for, YOONGI?!''

Yoongi clacked his tongue as he cleaned off the blood from his knife with a napkin,

''For overstepping boundaries.''

''I OVERSTEPPED BOUNDARIES?!'' Tae yelled while staring at the knife.

Yoongi stared up at Taehyung, ''You're being too friendly with what's mine. You know I don't like that.''

Taehyung scoffs, ''YOURS?''

''Taehyung...''

''Seriously, I'm worried about you Yoongi, and I stay by you through it all. But what if you end up repeating the same shit you did four years ago? I already see the way you look at y/n.''

Yoongi's eye twitched at the reminder, stopping his movements of cleaning the knife, ''Watch your mouth. That's none of your business.''

''Isn't it though? I'm your right hand, I'm supposed to give you my advice if needed.''

''You're supposed to keep your mouth shut if you want to keep your job... And your fingers.''

Taehyung admits defeat, and sighs, ''Anything else?''

Yoongi shakes his head, ''As long as you understand.''

Taehyung gets up and walks towards the door, looking back at his friend...boss, one last time with a concerned expression,

''Just... She's too pure... Don't repeat the same mistakes.''

Yoongi's jaw clenches,

''I'm different now. Dismissed.''

Yoongi had kept his fair distance the following week, letting you simply do your job. Everytime he saw you interact with any of the other employees, he was seething. He kept his eyes on you as often as he was able to, just watching you work. The way you'd tuck your hair behind your ears, to the way your nose scrunched when you were focused.

His chest fluttered, his soul burned.

His flesh craved yours.

You were the sweetest, purest person he's ever encountered, and he knew this was the fact from the very moment he saw your face on that photo. He could tell, he knows people, their faces. You were so innocent, filled with hopes and positivity.

Everything he wasn't.

The desire to corrupt your purity was more intense than ever, and he'd decided; tonight he was gonna indulge in what he's been craving. And he always gets what he wants.

Suddenly life didn't feel so dull anymore. Honestly, ever since you joined, every day has been anything but dull to Yoongi. He almost loved the torture he put himself through by not just ravaging you on day one. Watching you, pining for you. It was new, this Alien feeling of wanting something so badly.

But patience was at an all time low, it was time. He needed you.

You answered your office phone,

''Mr. Min's office.''

A dark, familiar chuckle echoed on the line,

''Hello there, angel.''

A nickname your boss had given you the past few days... Angel. You were still not used to it, a blush on your cheeks at the petname.

''H-hello sir. What can I do for you?''

You were kind of confused why he decided to call your phone, he was literally in the room behind yours.

''There's so much you could do for me, angel. But let's start with you coming into my office, I need you.''

You furrowed your brows, ''You need me? I'm already working on the documents you just gave me–''

''No, no. This is much more important.''

''Oh?''

''I'm waiting.''

Click.

Yoongi stood up as soon as he heard your footsteps approaching, striding over to you as soon as the door opened, pulling you in to push your back against the door to force it closed behind you. He towered over you like a predator, instantly making you shrink down into a prey.

''S-sir, what are you doing...''

Yoongi's pupils were blown wide, breaths shallow but Heavy as he stares at you,

''I need you....Fuck, angel, only you can help me.''

You shrink down further, almost slowly sliding down the wall. Yoongi lets you, and as you sit down in a squat he's dropped down to his knees with you, his palms pressed against the door as he leans closer to your face,

''Do you think you could help me?''

You look down at the floor, heavily blushing,

''I-I'm not sure what you mean...''

He grabs your chin to direct your attention to his face, the expression on your face of fear mixed with confusion makes his cock twitch.

''Do you need me to spell it out for you? I've wanted you since I first laid eyes on your pretty face. I can't contain myself any longer, I can't... stay away from you.''

Your mouth falls open in realization, your cheeks reddening even further. He stares at your plump lips before leaning in to Place a soft, experimental kiss. He groans at the taste,

''You're so sweet. Too sweet. Too pure, aren't you?''

You exhale sharply, and he withdraws to look at your obvious expression.

''Are you... untouched, my angel?''

You hide your face in your hands, heart racing so fast it feels like it's gonna burst out of your chest. But you nod.

Yoongi feels a wave of this incredible urge once more, his cock hardening even further at the thought of ruining you completely.

''I'd be your first...''

He stands up, pulling you up with him as he leads you to his desk and lifts you up on it, spreading your legs for him as he steps inbetween to pull you in for Another kiss. He whispers into your lips between chaste kisses,

''I'd be your first... And your last... Your only one... You wanna be mine, angel? Hm?''

You feel the heat rushing through your body, the familiar burning sensation rushing down to your core growing more intense with every kiss.

''Tell me, angel.''

You nod, whispering a breahy 'yes'.

He groans into the kiss as his hands pull your skirt up over your ass pushing himself closer to grind his clothed erection against your clothed core. He nips at your lips when he hears your small whines, and pulls back with a frustrated noise rumbling from his throat,

''As much as I love teasing, I have basically been teasing myself for days waiting for this very moment.''

He drops down to his knees in front of you, spreading your legs further as you lay back on the desk. He swiftly pulls your panties down to expose your tight little slit for him, and he licks his lips in anticipation, no longer able to wait.

''Mine.'' He whispers, moreso to himself before giving your clit a kiss. You Breathe out quietly, and he dives in once more to let his tongue taste you.

''Mine.'' He repeats with a soft moan as he alternates between licks and kisses, finally drawing out more noises from you. It still wasn't enough, though. He wanted you to be a screaming mess for him, begging for more.

''Delicious and soppy, all for me.''

''yes, yes..'' You whimper out, not able to focus as you put your arm over your eyes to hide in shyness. Yoongi easily slides one finger into your cunt while still licking at your clit, moaning once more when he feels your pussy already tightening around his finger.

''You're gonna cum already, angel? Have you ever been fingered before?''

You shake your head, ''Not by...somebody else..''

''Oh, my dear...'' Yoongi chuckles before sliding a second finger in, curling them slightly to provide a pressure towards your sensitive spot as he finds it. You buck your hips against his fingers as your moans grow louder, and your cunt gets soppier and dripping down to his knuckles until there's a wet puddle growing on the table.

''My good girl loves this... Look how fucking dripping wet you are.'' He growls  out, speeding up his fingers whilst licking your clit faster. You whine out when you finally cum, back arching and pussy pulsating as it contracts in a vice grip around his fingers. He keeps fucking you with his fingers, digging deeper to draw out the most beautiful sound of your painful whines of overstimulation.

''T-too much....'' You cry out, but he continues.

''But you feel so fucking good, it sounds so sexy when you whine for me..''

''A-ah s-sensitive, Sir, sir.....!''

Yoongis lips curl up in a wicked smile, finally pulling his fingers out of you, smearing the wetness on his fingers over your clit as he slowly rubs your sensitive nub in circles, drawing more twitches from your body. He fucking loved it.

''Oh, you're so precious.''

He stands up again, admiring the view of your totally messy wetness.

''Now...'' He pauses while he unbuckles his belt, pulling his pants and underwear down to his hips to pull his painfully hard erection out, ''I'm going to claim what's mine.''

You spread your legs further when he positions himself between your legs, lips agape and breathing heavily while looking up at him, ''Please...''

His lip twitches as if he wants to smile at your current state, so fucking beautiful. And all for him.

''You want my cock that badly?''

You nod, ''Yes, please...''

''Your first, last, and only...'' He hisses out when he lines himself up with your entrance, finally pushing himself in without letting you adjust properly. You cry out, a mix between pain and pleasure in your voice, the perfect sound in Yoongi's ears as he moans softly with you.

''Your cunt feels so fucking good already... And it's all mine to use.''

He places his hands on your waist to pull you down a Little until your ass hangs off of the desk, giving him the perfect angle to thrust himself into you roughly, drawing more moans from your throat.

''I'm gonna use your little pussy every single day from now on, this is the only thing I want you to do for me from now on. Nothing else. I'll get a new secretary. All you gotta do is be mine.''

You nod, chanting out 'yes' with every snap of his hips becoming faster and rougher. His eyes are blown wide with desire and admiration at the way your body sinfully bounces beneath his ministrations.

''I love you. I love you, I fucking love fucking you.....'' Yoongi growls out, making a point out of every word with a thrust, the wet soppy noises of his skin slapping against yours like music to his ears.

His cock hardened further inside of you, reaching spots neither your or his fingers ever could. You cry out , arching your back for him when you feel your second orgasm building inside of you like an incoming wave.

Yoongi slows down when he feels your pussy tightening, lifting you up to carry you. He sits down in his large, throne-like chair with you on top of him, you leaning over to Place your palms on his shoulders to keep yourself in Place. He roughly grabs your ass to Bounce you up and down on his cock, the raw strength in his hips and arms making it more than easy for you to ride him.

He nips and kisses at your breasts, leaving small love marks here and there and admiring the way your skin bruises from his lips. He grows greedier, fucking up into you with less rhythm as he feels his own high reaching him,

''I'm gonna fill your little pure pussy up with my cum, angel. Your first. Your only. You're mine, baby, you're mine. Tell me.''

He growls as he bites your neck, this time definitely rougher than before as he listens to the beautiful noises of your pain, pleasure and incoherent attempts of telling him that you're his. Your cunt squeezes him tightly when you cry out as you cum for the second time.

Good enough, this is exactly the state he wanted you in.

''Mine.'' He snarls out before holding your ass in a bruising grasp,  pushing you down on his cock whilst bucking his hips up into you, stilling when he cums in hot, pulsating ropes to fill your pussy up at last.

He hisses out curses and praises, staying like this for a moment as he litters kisses all over your neck and chest.

You're like a ragdoll on top of him, breathing heavily and whimpering when he rubs circles on your bruised ass.

Yoongi nudges your head to make you look up at him, your cheek pressed against his chest as your doe eyes stare back up at him.

You smile, your usual small, precious, innocent smile, and he can't help but give you a gummy smile back.

His hands move up your back to play with your hair, leaning in to place a kiss on your forehead and inhale your scent before whispering,

''You belong to me now.''

© sombreboy 2020. Do not repost, edit or translate.

[internalsealpanic]

Dick Grayson x Mercenary Reader HCs Part 1

a/n: This is basically a Dick Grayson/ Reader thingy that has been stuck in my head for months but I haven’t plotted out an actual fic for. Basically, I have the relationship mapped out in my head but I have no scenarios. I was hoping someone could suggest a plot I can play with. This part is mostly platonic with hints of a future relationship. This is pretty much in a weird version of canon running around in my head. 

masterlist

You’re Deathstroke’s apprentice. (This version is the version from the Knights and Dragons movie so he isn't a complete and utter asshole. Look, I just really like that version.) Let's just say you had more moxie than self preservation. It also helps that you’re a meta with a pretty unique power. Anything drawn on your skin turns into a physical object. (You basically have a bunch of permanent markers on you in addition to your usual equipment.)

Dick doesn't like you because of your profession but has a grudging respect for your skill. You think Dick is annoying for getting in the way but you understand that he's just trying to do his best to help the city in his own useless way.

YOU LORDING YOUR HEIGHT OVER DICK WHEN YOU'RE KIDS AND YOU QUIETLY CURSING WHEN YOU STOP GROWING.

You and Dick never set out to be friends. You honestly had no clue when this even started. Maybe it was because you keep accidentally saving each other or maybe because you two have a lot to bond over such as murdered parents and emotionally inept mentors. 

When it actually started: You, in full  costume, recognize your least favourite bird and see that he's crying and that he not only has an ugly bruise in his face but also a bunch of other injuries. you simply sit with him and throw your arms around him letting your muscles relax as if to tell him ‘it's ok and that you’ve got him’. You let him cry into your shoulder. You understand that you have a little more in common than he's willing to admit. You use one of your motion tattoo wings as a cover from the rain and the other to keep Dick warm. When Dick finally calms down enough to think, he's jarred by how nice you are acting. your general demeanor loosened at this point you let your offense show and the very petulant look on your face draws a tired laugh out of Dick. your angry look melts to give way to something resembling relief. You stay there for a while not speaking before Dick decides he needs to leave. Without a fuss you let him go.

After that, instead of fighting each other during encounters, you two kind of just sit together and start talking about what happened since your last encounter. Or you two play rock, paper, scissors to see who ‘won’. 

Dick realizes that your personality is hilariously incompatible with your chosen profession. You rant about how Slade lectures you about learning how to lie better and when they tested how bad you were at it Dick was sure Alfred would politely word it as wooden. you had good control over your body language but you had a look caught between pain and annoyance etched on your face. 

Mini scenario: 

Dick is really stressed out with school and vigilanteing and with Bruce that he just starts wandering around Gotham. 

It was a bad idea. Wandering around Gotham is generally a bad idea especially if your head isn't on straight but there is something relaxing about just wandering around. 

Dick ends up at one of Gotham's old movie theatres. One of those businesses that you're pretty sure is a front for something because you can't wrap your head around how they could possibly still be in business. 

Then there you were a foot from the ticketing windows. His mind instantly recognizes you. You, in turn, recognize him instantly. 

When neither of you launch into an attack, you decide to watch a movie together. After bickering for 15 minutes about what movie you should watch, you decide on a coin toss. Because you won, Dick was subjected to your love of terrible movies. 

You go out for burgers afterwards and joke about the movie. You complain about the bad acting and the ridiculous story line. You even come up with how they should have done it.

Your lunch was spent outside in the parking lot of the burger joint. 

You walk around some more after you explain that you haven't been to this part of Gotham and Dick gives you a mini tour. 

You talk about a mix of mundane teenager things and some complaints about their occupations.

You check your watch and explain that you need to go to the grocery store for ingredients. 

Dick goes with you just because. He won't admit that he's having a lot of fun.

Being teenagers they fuck around. Being exceptionally athletic and intelligent teenagers you fuck around entertainingly. 

At first, you play 'the price is right' because Dick wants to prove he isn't a spoiled rich kid. He doesn't prove jack. You don't do much better but it's on the opposite end. 

You get bored and frustrated so you start a scavenger hunt much to the terror of the other customers. How would you feel about 2 terrors zooming around screaming about butter and backflipping over you?

Dick is busy gloating about his victory when the store gets robbed. Dick can't do anything because right now he is a rich boy extraordinaire and should not be capable of fighting. you on the other hand is sore from losing and just yeets a can into one of the robbers faces. 

Everyone's attention pans to your as you ready to lob another can at them. The robbers run leaving their unconscious friend on the floor bleeding. 

You still pay for the can but ask Dick to get another one. 

 Walking down the street, Dick notices how many take out places are on the way and asks why you don't just eat from there. you simply tell him you like home cooking more. He notes that for next time. 

You exchange phone numbers so you can plan a next time. 

The next time they hang out you both bring homemade snacks to sneak into the theater.

They start hanging out in civvies and do really mundane civilian stuff you want to try and that Dick doesn't get to do enough. 

You become a sort of hub of normality for Dick. He can talk to you about all the weird stuff without worrying about your not getting it or your judging him while also doing the most mind numbingly human things. 

What do they usually talk about:

Casual nerdy stuff

Weird history shit you reads about

Vigilante stuff

Funny henchman stories from the perspective of a vigilante and a higher level henchman

Sometimes they talk about trauma but they only vaguely mention it

They debate over dumb things like whether there's too much variety in cereal. Guess who's on which side. 

Sometimes they discuss fighting techniques. 

Dick teaches you Romani and about the Romani culture

You sometimes explains various myths and superstitions from your own culture

Dick sometimes talks about school and galas and you end up making fun of weird rich people. They also end up making fun of the various rich people who hire you.

You'll talk about almost everything with each other

You bring him to one of your safe houses for a home cooked meal after he tells you how he lives off of cereal. You were horrified. 

The Titans, Batman, and Alfred get really suspicious about Dick's new civilian friend. 

Slade gets suspicious of you frequently visiting certain cities. 

Somehow they figure out that you are the wraith. 

They all lecture Dick about it. 

Slade just finds the whole thing amusing and debates on whether he can actually convince you to give up some of Grayson's secrets. 

I just love the image of them casually hanging out in civvies with Batman questioning Dick's life decisions and what your has been influenced by his relationship with Catwoman while Deathstroke and Wintergreen are just quietly amused by the situation at some point they were worried about you discussing merc stuff but neither talk about current business unless it's safe to. 

Wintergreen isn't particularly worried since Grayson is a good kid. Wintergreen once joked that you should convince him to join their side. You said that Dick didn't have the right personality to be a merc. The irony of this was completely lost on your. 

You spending a ton of your hard earned mercenary money to win a stuffed toy that you think little Rose would want. Dick making fun of you for not getting it then he ends up spending too much money but he eventually gets it. You and Dick pass by a shop and you see the exact same stuffed toy in the shop window for a sixteenth of the fortune you spent at the arcade. Good news though, Rose still has the stuffed toy. 

 Both of you being petty at dance dance revolution. 

When you rant to each other in less than private areas, you rapidly switch languages.

Unbeknownst to Slade, Dick actually knows a bunch of his safe houses and unbeknownst to Dick, those are Deathstroke's safe houses.  You are technically not lying when you say it's yours. 

You have a silent pact not to blow each other's covers unless they deem it completely necessary (when people's lives are at stake). The only person who knows this pact is Jason and they have bought his silence. 

You will both go out of their way to help each other out of a bind. 

Sometimes when Bruce and Alfred are out of town and the stars align to have you visiting for a job, you end up helping Dick babysit. Jason gets confused and defensive at first. You have dealt with distrustful youngins. Neither Rose nor Joey wanted anything to do with you at first. You, however, grew up wanting siblings so you tried your darndest to look after them and it is really fucking hard to not let this munchkin grown on you. 

When you're old enough to hit the club they often go drinking together. You once tried to have you wingman for Dick. Using the ‘fantastic’ negotiating skills you got from mercenary work, you ended up getting the number for yourself. You once told Rose and Joey about it and both of them made lighthearted jokes about it. 

Dick gets confronted by Slade at sword point and asks what his intentions are with his kid (He honestly isn't at all serious but he likes how scared Dick got because the man is terrifying.)

Dick also gets interrogated by Joey and Rose because, you know, this is their big sister. 

You often insist on family dinners at least once every 2 weeks with your siblings, sometimes with their mom (Adeline is kind of not ok with you and Rose being present but is trying her best for Joey's sake), sometimes with their dad, occasionally with their uncle Wintergreen. 

You usually just casually call Slade 'pops'  and you drawls 'dad' when you’re pissed and 'papa' when you’re emotional. You try your damndest to only call him Slade or Deathstroke on the field but sometimes you slip up and calls him pops in the field

You have batnapped each batkid at least once. Batnapping meaning seeing a baby bat and throwing them over your shoulder when you’re pretty sure they’re going to get killed. This isn’t limited to kids. You still do this when they’re adults. The image of you throwing Dick over your shoulder when you two were tiny gives me life but you throwing Dick and/or Jason over your shoulder when they’re huge has me cackling.  

You basically accidentally become a de facto big sister/ mom friend to the batkids purely through your friendship with Dick.

Images from this scenario I can’t get out of my head:

Stargazing

Teaching Dick how to cook. He just ends up going to your place for a meal though. 

Running around during a rain storm huddled under a jacket with Dick because neither of you checked the weather

Casual affection you two share because you’re both tactile people. Casual affection as in just sitting on the couch in each other’s space, bumping shoulders to communicate, leaning on each other, hugging each other when greeting each other, and all that good stuff. 

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Thanks for reading! I’m really sorry for the grammar and disorganization. 

If you guys are interested in the more bickering dialogue heavy part 2 either comment here or send an ask or pm me. *shrugs* This is just really self indulgent on my part. 

taglist: 

@idkmanicantenglish

@birdy-bat-writes (I will stop tagging you when you run out of good ideas for me.)

[skaylanphear]

Doorways to the Truth

Summary: After the events of Reflekdoll, Marinette finds herself rather preoccupied with the fact that Chat’s real eye color is, in fact, green. A familiar green--too familiar, perhaps. While Adrien slowly begins to come to his own conclusions, if only because Marinette might have made herself a little too obvious. 

A story in which they both think they might know something, but have no proof, so what else is there to do but continue testing the waters?

Part 1

"Your eyes are green."

It was a downright stupid thing to say and Marinette knew it was stupid even as she said it. Because she knew perfectly well that Adrien's eyes were green—she'd known from the very first day that his eyes were green with very vague amber flecks. She'd written a poem about the very same eyes and stared at them regularly via the pictures she had stuck up all over her walls.

"Uh, yeah," Adrien agreed, looking a bit dubious as he stared down at her. "Always have been." He said it kindly, but even so, Marinette found herself blushing at her own idiocy. Turning away, she ignored how he continued to watch her for a moment, before he returned his attention to the conversation that had originally been going on between the four of them—him, Marinette, Alya, and Nino. Adrien had turned to her to ask her about something, but she found that she couldn't remember quite what.

It was probably for the best that he hadn't pursued it further. She was having a bit of a crisis, as it would turn out, despite the fact that she was doing a pretty good job of hiding as much (or so she hoped).

Chat Noir's eyes were green too.

This, of course, she'd always known, because his miraculous changed his eyes so they matched Plagg's. She'd found this out when they'd been fighting Reflekdoll the day before, when she'd used Chat Noir's ring herself. Her own blue eyes had been masked in the same green, any and all traces of her natural color hidden away.

And though they'd been far too preoccupied by their enemy at the time to show it, she'd been startled when she'd finally encountered Chat Noir using her own miraculous. Not because the sight of Mister Bug had been alarming, but because as she'd leaned in enough times to talk to him, she'd come to the realization that Chat Noir's real eyes were green too.

But so what? Plenty of people had green eyes. Well, not plenty. It was one of the rarest eye colors in the world. The bright vibrant color that Adrien had inherited from his mother was even rarer than the normal. Yet, somehow, Chat Noir had eyes of an almost identical hue.

It could just be coincidence, of course. Of all the people in Paris, there were sure to be some that had a similar eye color to Adrien no matter its rarity.

None of this had really occurred to her at the time, but it'd burrowed into the back of her thoughts without her realizing it, which was what had left her so stupidly startled when Adrien had turned to look at her.

Though she was far more familiar with Adrien and his face than she was Chat Noir's without the mask (obviously), Mister Bug had flashed through her thoughts the moment Adrien had turned her way.

Which was what had her in a bit of a panic.

What, exactly, had Mister Bug's eyes looked like? They'd been very similar to Adrien's, she'd noted that at the time of Reflekdoll. But how similar? As similar as his height was to Adrien's? And his hair?

What about his voice? Did they have similar voices?

Why couldn't she remember?

She saw both Adrien and Chat Noir at least every other day. If they had similar voices, certainly she'd have noticed.

Right? Right?!

"Hey, Marinette, you okay?"

She released an incoherent noise as she flailed back, once again startled by Adrien, though this time in a more physical sense. He'd placed a hand on her shoulder, which she'd slipped out from underneath, and was now watching her with concern painted over his expression.

Imbedded in those green eyes.

"Oh yeah," she said, laughing uncomfortably as she did. "I was just dinking—I mean, thidracted—I MEAN, DISTRACTED!" She smiled. "I was just thinking…"

Adrien laughed lightly, looking at her as he often did when she couldn't be understood—with total sympathy, if not with some underlying puzzlement. Like he just didn't quite get her, but had made peace with the fact.

She supposed that was her own fault.

"Everyone's headed to class," he explained, gesturing toward the stairs.

Which was when she saw it, that flash of silver.

Reaching out, she found herself grabbing him by the wrist before she pulled his hand up so she could get a better look at his ring. There didn't appear to be anything special about it—just a silver ring with a circle carved in the top. There were four tiny prongs that surrounded it, the same as the black cat miraculous when it was active. But different from what the ring had looked like when she'd worn it. Hers had been rose-gold and more delicate in shape.

All this flitted through her thoughts in but a second, before Adrien was yanking his hand rather harshly out of her hold.

Looking up at him, she saw unease apparent in his expression as he held his other hand over his ring, hiding it.

"Where did you get that ring?" she blurted.

"I… uh… It—It was a gift," he blundered out, before tossing her a smile that was clearly quite fake, even for Adrien. Adrien, who smiled even when there was nothing to smile about in that soft, understated way that Marinette had long since realized had been hammered into him by constant politeness and expected manners.

"From who?" Marinette pushed.

Adrien's smile faltered, his expression finally beginning to harden into something akin to defensiveness. "Why do you want to know?"

Which was when Marinette realized that perhaps she'd gone a little too far. "Oh, no reason," she lied, supposing it was her turn to throw out an exaggerated, fake smile. "I just notice you wear it all the time and was curious."

"It's really important to me," he said steadily, still looking quite defensive as he flicked his attention back to the stairs. "We should go to class or we're going to be late."

"Oh, right, of course," she agreed, laughing stupidly as Adrien finally dropped some of his guard to smile back. He headed for the stairs shortly after, Marinette following silently behind. She held the strap of her purse rather tightly, if only because she knew Tikki was inside.

Tikki knew Chat Noir's identity. Just like Plagg knew her identity. Certainly if Chat Noir was… was Adrien Agreste, Tikki would have given her a hint or something. But, then again, kwami weren't supposed to compromise the identities of their owners. Perhaps this rule stretched to the identities of other miraculous holders, even if the spell that kept them silent didn't.

Ugh, there was no point in thinking about Tikki. Her kwami was strict with the rules and even if Marinette had a suspicion, she wouldn't verify it one way or the other.

Besides, she was getting ahead of herself. There was no way Adrien was Chat Noir. They were totally different, even if they did look a little bit alike (a lot alike, but whatever). Chat had said it himself—he was the "cunning, ultra-charming Chat Noir," full of humor and rash decisions.

Adrien… Adrien wasn't like that. Adrien was charming, sure, but in a totally different way than Chat Noir claimed to be. Adrien was kind and considerate and… and Chat Noir was those things too, but that was beside the point! Adrien wasn't cunning… even if he did sometimes sneak out or come up with excuses to get out from under his father.

Okay, the main point was that Chat was a goofball with a bad sense of humor and Adrien, well… if he had a sense of humor (which he did, obviously because everyone did, Chat Noir's opinions aside), she had no idea what it was like.

Adrien never told jokes or goofed around or…

Had much of any fun, really. The most fun he seemed to have was when he was hanging out with his friends, and even then he was more subdued than most. Always trying to do the right thing and always stepping aside to let other people have a chance.

Despite being a model, he was always happy to let someone else take the lead and have the spotlight. Just like Chat was always doing for Ladybug, seemingly with little qualms on the subject.

Ugh, now she was just getting confused. So maybe Adrien and Chat Noir had a few things in common, yet they were also very different. She wasn't exactly sure how they were alike or different, because the longer she thought about it, the more convoluted the whole thing became.

She just needed to stop thinking about it. So they had the same eye color and both wore a ring on the same finger. Big deal. That didn't mean they were the same person.

But what if…

Personality differences aside, Marinette found as she sat through class that day that she'd opened up a rather big can of worms as far as what her brain was willing to entertain pertaining to Adrien and Chat Noir.

If—and this was wholly fictional, or so she told herself—Adrien was Chat Noir, then it'd make sense how their miraculouses had gotten switched. She'd had to remove her earrings for their shoot and since Adrien had ended up modeling, he'd have removed his ring to wear her own line of jewelry. After all, she couldn't advertise jewelry that she hadn't designed.

So that would mean he'd have had to keep his miraculous close by, just like she had. Maybe… Maybe Tikki and Plagg had been in the car together? Could that—No, that couldn't possibly—No way.

It was just too… surreal.

Adrien wasn't Chat Noir. No matter how any circumstances lined up, that was just… It'd be too serendipitous.

Determined this had to be the truth, Marinette squashed any active thoughts on the matter. Or she attempted to, once lunch came around. Yet, as soon as their regular group of four came together, her brain was making constant comparisons between Adrien and Chat Noir. But even with all their similarities, she couldn't completely prove her theory one way or another.

Probably because it wasn't true.

But what if…?

"Marinette!"

"Huh?! What?!" Whipping around on Alya, Marinette was wide-eyed as she stared at her disapproving best friend, who had her hands on her hips and was giving her the stink-eye.

"We were trying to decide where to go to eat," she explained. "Are you okay with going to the park?"

"Oh, yeah, sure, that's fine," Marinette replied. "Sorry, I was a bit distracted."

"We could tell," Nino muttered, clearly looking between Marinette and Adrien. Which had Marinette blushing while Adrien looked on in confusion.

"Then let's go! I'm starving!" Alya announced, grabbing Nino by the hand before leading the way out of the school doors. Marinette followed about a step behind Adrien, her finger pulling at her lip thoughtfully as he walked on in front.

Those jeans he wore really were tight. It really provided her a good view of his… "figure."

Did they have the same butt? Adrien and Chat? She'd never really paid much attention to Chat's butt, despite seeing it all the time. Adrien had a cute little butt though. For sure Chat had a—

"Hey, is that your bodyguard waving at us?" Alya asked, jarring Marinette's thoughts as the group looked over at the curb, where Adrien's gorilla of a guard was waiting beside his car.

"Yeah, but I didn't think…" Shoulders slumping, Adrien pulled up his phone and checked his schedule. "Oh…" he said, his spirits dropping even further. "I guess my father rescheduled that press conference the akuma messed up last week for today."

"So you gotta leave?" Nino asked.

Adrien sighed. "I guess so. He'd be really angry if I skipped out on it."

"You know, your dad sure expects a lot out of you all the time," Alya observed. "It wouldn't be the worst thing if you skipped out once in a while."

"Maybe not, but the more I screw up, the less I get to do the things I wanna do. Besides, it'd be irresponsible to start skipping things like press conferences and I don't want to mess up my father's reputation."

"You really do have a lot of responsibilities, don't you?" Marinette found herself saying, her own spirits dropping alongside his own.

He cast her a small smile. "It's okay. I don't mind most of the time." Yet his words didn't sound the least bit convincing. Still, he waved to them in farewell before breaking away, the three of them watching as he met his bodyguard and ducked inside his car. Soon enough, they were driving away.

"He won't be back for the rest of the day, probably," Nino said, sounding quite irritated himself. "I feel like I hardly see my best bud most of the time."

"He is busy," Alya said. "I wonder if he ever gets to relax. I know that if I lived with Gabriel Agreste, I'd be uptight all the time."

"Yeah, that's true," Marinette agreed, her tone sounding somewhat hollow, even to herself. "It must be hard, having to live up to those standards all the time."

"His dad thinks he's perfect though," Nino pointed out.

Marinette frowned and turned to continue walking on to the park. "That makes it even worse," she muttered to herself, the worry in her gut so heavy it felt like she'd swallowed a dozen stones.

oOo

"Good evening, Kitty," Ladybug said as she plopped down on the ledge beside him. He immediately turned to look at her, his smile wide as he beamed.

"Hello, Bugaboo. Fancy meeting you here."

"We always meet here."

"Still, I'm grateful."

Rolling her eyes, Ladybug hummed in amusement, ignoring the urge she had to stare at Chat in the same way she'd been staring at Adrien all morning. She looked out over the rooftops instead, the sun beginning to set and casting the city in a vague, orange glow.

"So where are we patrolling today?" he asked. "The next section of the city on our map? Or did you wanna go over last night's locations again, just in case we missed something? You seemed a little uncertain about that neighborhood at the end, since we were both getting pretty tired. Then again, Hawkmoth isn't exactly a subtle guy, so we'd probably have notice—"

"Do you like being Chat Noir?" she asked suddenly, only having been half-listening to his chatter. Her question seemed to take him by surprise, his lips pulling into a frown.

A frown that looked just like the frown Adrien had worn earlier that day…

"What I mean is," she continued, "do you like having the powers that you have?"

"Uh…" Chat pooched his lips as he thought. "I mean, sure. I think the powers I have fit me pretty well. You said it yourself that I'm a simple, straightforward guy."

"You wouldn't want my powers then?"

His previous thoughtfulness turned to unease. "Why do you ask?"

"I just… You've used my miraculous now. I guess I just wanted to know what you thought about it."

He was quiet for a moment, clearly needing time to think of an answer. "I think that… that your powers are amazing, and it was fun being you for a bit, but I don't really think I'm cut out for it."

"Why do you say that?"

"Isn't it obvious?" He grinned good-naturedly. "I wasn't exactly as good at using your powers as you were at using mine."

"But your lucky charm did work," she pointed out.

"After you told me how to use it."

"I guess…"

"My Lady… What is this about?"

She stared down at her lap. "I don't know. Nothing, really. I've just been in kind of a weird… mind-space today. It's probably best to just ignore everything that I'm saying."

"I'd never want to do that."

She flicked her gaze back up to his, taking in his sincere expression despite how it had her heart fluttering inside her chest.

"Why do you pretend like you're some irresponsible hooligan?" she finally dared to ask.

Her question clearly took him aback, his head rearing a bit as he digested her question. A series of expressions crossed his face then—surprise, confusion, offense (that was short-lived), before confusion again. Finally, he opened his mouth to speak, but then no words came out.

"I know you're not," she continued, when it was clear he didn't know what to say. "You act like being Chat Noir is easy and like everything we do is a joke, but if you really felt that way, you wouldn't work as hard as you do."

He gaped again for a while longer, before finally managing to gather some words together. "I feel like I'm in trouble for something," he admitted. "But you're not exactly saying bad things about me."

"You're not in trouble. I'm just trying to understand, I guess."

"Well… it's like you said. I act like it's easy, but we both know it's not. I guess I figure that being serious all the time doesn't really help anyway, so why bother?" Another frown pulled down on his lips. "I have to be serious all the time, when I'm not Chat Noir. And it makes life pretty miserable. We're already fighting akumas, so why make it worse than it already is?"

"I have a hard time imagining that you could be serious all the time when you're not transformed," she admitted.

"You wouldn't recognize me, I promise you that."

"Why do you have to be serious all the time?"

He shrugged, seeming to mull over her question before he answered. "I guess there's just a lot of pressure for me to be perfect all the time. Anytime I mess up, it's like—like…"

"Chat?"

"I just have to be careful, because if I mess up too badly, I might—My father—It's complicated. He's not exactly known for being lenient when he thinks things aren't going his way. I feel like I'm on thin ice with him most of the time as it is, just for doing normal things everybody else my age is doing. And I don't mean bad stuff. Just going to the movies or hanging out after school. Stuff like that. And it's stupid because I do exactly what he says all the time and he has this huge schedule with all this stuff I have to do every day and if I even let my grades slip a little or if I complain that I'm tired, he assumes it's because I'm hanging out with my friends too much or staying after school too long, even though I barely ever do those things anyway. So I can't ever be less than perfect because if I am then he takes away everything that I do like doing and blames my friends. So… yeah… that's why, I guess…"

He was clearly frustrated, but also seemingly embarrassed by his rant, his cheeks a little redder than usual.

"Sorry," he said, voice quiet. "I shouldn't have said so much."

"It's okay," she replied softly, her own thoughts running over everything he'd said, though likely for different reasons than he was imagining.

"You have enough to worry about," he continued, before managing a small smile. "After all, I know what it's like now, to be you. Being Ladybug is no easy job."

"Your job wasn't easy either, for the record," she countered, before winking. "Even if I made it look like it was."

"Coulda fooled me," he admitted. "You were doing everything right even when I was screwing up."

"You weren't screwing up that badly," she comforted.

"I was," he insisted. "But it's okay. I screw up all the time as Chat too."

"You do not!"

"I do too!" He laughed. "You're the one always pointing it out!"

"Well…" She bit the inside of her cheek.

"I said it's okay," he replied.

"I don't want to make you feel bad…" she admitted, which sobered him immediately.

"You never make me feel bad," he said straight.

"You were just saying how your father—"

"You're not my father," he interjected rather sternly. "I mean, I'll admit, I was a little worried when we first met, but you don't—you're not…" He sighed. "I guess I feel like I can screw around with you and you're not going to be mad about it. Most of the time anyway."

"Sometimes you enjoy it a little too much."

He grinned. "Gimme a break! You're the only person I get to goof around with."

"Why don't you goof around with your friends?" she dared to ask.

His grin went a little sideways with unease. "Ah, I dunno. I guess because, like, when I'm not Chat Noir, I always… have to be careful?"

"But if your father isn't there…?"

"I guess…" He turned away, as if he was trying to hide from her in plain sight.

"Chat," she said sternly.

"When I'm, you know, me, I can't just—I have to be careful—If someone sees me and I'm not doing exactly what my father expects…"

"How would he even know?"

He cringed. "I can't really explain. If I do, you might figure out who I am."

An admission that took Ladybug by surprise despite the fact that she was already sniffing out more than he was likely anticipating that she could. But maybe she'd kind of tricked him with her questions, even if he had no way of knowing that.

She felt a little bad.

"Alright. But you shouldn't be so paranoid about your father. Your friends are missing out, not being able to be as annoyed by you as I am all the time."

He leaned closer, bumping their shoulders together. "That just makes you even more special."

"Uh huh, sure."

"It's true, Bugaboo. You're the apple of my eye. The light of my life. The yin to my yang. The—"

"Alright, I get it," she cut in, shoving him playfully away as she did. "I guess you do deserve your miraculous—sounds like you'd have a mental breakdown if you had to deal with my responsibilities on top of your civilian life."

"Yeah, probably," he agreed, before whipping around on her with concern behind his mask. "Don't let anything I've said change how you treat me," he said quickly. "I know your miraculous is way more important than mine and I always want to help you in any way I can. I don't view being your partner as a break from real life or anything like that—if you need anything from me, you tell me."

She couldn't help her own smile then. "Oh I will, don't worry about that," she promised, which visibly relieved him. "And just because you can't purify akumas doesn't mean you're not as important as me. I need you here with me and I wouldn't have it be anyone else." She reached out and patted him on the thigh, which had him practically purring as he leaned back into her personal space.

"I'm irreplaceable?" he asked coyly.

"Of course," she agreed. "I don't think I could ever find a Chat Noir that's as much of a clown as you. It takes special talent to mess up as smoothly as you do." Reaching up, she tapped him on the tip of his nose.

"Good thing you always fix everything afterward, huh?"

"Someone has to clean up your messes."

"Now, hold on, sometimes you make the messes too," he argued. "Your plans do get a little out of control sometimes. And who was it that broke the Reflekdoll and sent it rampaging?"

She scoffed. "You'd have done the same thing."

He looked down at his claws far too innocently. "Doubtful."

"Whatever," she said, waving him off as she did. "I did what I thought you'd do."

"And you did it beautifully," he assured.

"You'd trust me with your miraculous again, then?" she asked teasingly.

"If I had to. Though I must admit, I prefer you as Ladybug. I'd rather gaze into those blue-bells Tikki gives you than the same-ole green I'm used to." He cocked his head then, looking curious. "Weird that Tikki didn't turn my eyes blue though."

It took Ladybug a moment to digest his words. "Wait, what do you mean?"

"Your eyes," he said. "I thought back when we first got our powers that they were your real color, but then I realized it was probably a perk of your transformation. You know, like how my eyes change. Not that I'd prefer your blue eyes to whatever your natural color is—I'm sure you're stunning no matter what."

"Uh, while I appreciate that, what makes you think Tikki changes my eyes? She didn't change yours, so why would she change mine?"

"Well, because you—I thought—" He appeared abruptly uncomfortable. "I just assumed because you're, you know…"

"I'm what?" she asked, laughing lightly as she did.

"You’re… Asian?" he asked, flinching back some as he did.

She crossed her arms over her chest and gave him the stink eye. "So I can't have blue eyes?"

"No! Of course you can! It just occurred to me that it was unlikely your natural eye color was blue. But obviously I'm an idiot and you can have blue eyes if blue is what you actually have. Do you have blue eyes? Is that your natural eye color?"

"Well now I don't think I should even tell you."

"Reasonable," he agreed. "I understand. Honestly, you could have no eyes and I'd still think you were the most beautiful girl in the world."

"Don't get ahead of yourself," she warned flatly.

"But, wait, how do you know Tikki didn't change my eyes?" he asked.

"Because she doesn't change my eyes!"

"So your eyes are actually blue!"

Ladybug groaned.

"Wow," he said then, leaning a little too close again and causing Ladybug to shy back. "It should be super easy to find you then. How many Asian girls are there in the city with natural blue eyes, really?"

"Enough that you clearly haven't found me yet," she said, a warning clear in her tone.

Not that he heeded it. "Obviously, I was looking for the wrong clues."

"You're so oblivious, you wouldn't know me if I was standing right in front of you."

"I don't know," he said, tapping his chin thoughtfully. "This new information is pretty important."

"No, it's not," she said hastily, scrambling back and onto her feet as she did.

She'd said too much. She'd said way too much. Not that she should be at all surprised. She'd been the one to start it, asking him all sorts of personal questions in her quest to somehow debunk her own stupid theory. A theory that she was quite sure wasn't so stupid after all. And while Chat could be pretty dense and Adrien even more so about some things, she wasn't sure she was going to be able to escape this mistake.

She should have just agreed with him and said Tikki changed her eyes. She was so stupid! If Chat's eyes could lead her to his identity, then of course her own would do the same for her. Yeah, green eyes were rare, but blue eyes on a Chinese girl—even a half Chinese girl—were a dead giveaway.

And here he'd been assuming they were fake. An obvious thing to agree with and she'd totally blown it.

"Ladybug?" he asked, clearly picking up on her distress.

"C'mon," she said, throwing her yoyo out as she did. "We should have started patrolling a long time ago."

Vaulting off the edge of the building, she didn't dare look back.

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

A/N: Hope you guys enjoy my drabbling after Reflekdoll. I’ll probably write more soon.

[clarste]

listen-and-reflect replied to your post:

Um, just wondering, why aren't you around much...

… I’d be curious to hear your thoughts on Arknights. I’ve paid no attention to it whatsoever, but if it impresses you, I’m curious.

To boil it down to its component elements, I’d describe Arknights as “urban fantasy catgirl tower defense gacha.” If any of those words viscerally disgust you, there’s probably not much I can do to convince you otherwise, but personally that was enough to intrigue me. And what I found when I tried it surprised me in a good way. Honestly I’ve been struggling for like a month for how to talk about this, but for the purposes of this post I’ll boil it down to three major elements: Aesthetics, Worldbuilding, and Gameplay.

First of all the Aesthetics. Might as well start with a picture or three:

For the record, yes, 90% of the characters in this game are women, and there’s no explanation for that, that’s just how it is. I am 100% fine with that because I am a Touhou fan. Anyway, what I want to draw attention to is the way these women are portrayed. IE: they are posed/costumed to be seen as “cool” and while they certainly aren’t unattractive, it isn’t in a horny way that emphasizes their breasts or butts or anything. It’s not a perfect “practical clothing only,” I mean high heels aren’t great for fighting and there are other characters who show more skin, but the philosophy carries through in all the official art: these are cool, capable women who are never once reduced to sex objects for the male gaze. I respect that.

Also you don’t get to marry any of them which is a huge plus in my book.

It’s hard to say any more on that without moving on to the Worldbuilding. Basically, the world of Arknights is both blessed and cursed with a magical rock called Originium which is the source of all their problems. First of all it’s a miraculous power source, the resource that fuels the engine of modern society. Not only that but it can be used as a medium to cast actual magic spells (which is of course a well-studied phenomenon that’s treated as a science). On the other hand, its very presence warps the environment, causing large-scale city-destroying natural disasters on a regular basis. And more importantly for the conceit of the narrative, it can get in your blood, eventually causing an incurable disease called Oripathy which involves your body slowing turning into crystal from the inside out. Basically magic rock cancer. Later stages of it involve visible “crystal lesions” growing on the skin, but even internal growths can have serious medical problems. This is sometimes shown in character designs too:

This is important to the worldbuilding because “The Infected” are a major source of discrimination and political unrest. Oripathy is only mildly contagious (you’re more likely to get it from mishandling the rocks directly), but the stigma of it is such that anyone with Oripathy is immediately quarantined, exiled, or worse. Both the player characters and their enemies are generally Infected, with the “good guys” (scare quotes intended) being a medical institute that takes in patients to treat the symptoms and vaguely hoping for a cure someday, while the “bad guys” are revolutionaries violently overthrowing the society that treats them as subhuman. There are analogies you could make to HIV, leprosy, or heck even current events with COVID-19.

Anyway, I say all this so I can turn to the in-game character profiles and how they’re structured. Specifically, they’re all medical reports written by the doctors of your institute (who are themselves playable characters who are Medics in-game):

(Incidentally everyone uses codenames in this game). Anyway, my point is that these are not neutral, objective “word-of-god” profiles, these are the facts as they appear to some particular person in-universe. In Touhou terms, these are written by Akyuu: some clinical facts mixed in with rumors and speculation. And I absolutely love that.

More than that though, we get this amazing invention:

Why yes, that is an in-game chart of all the characters’ relationships, grouped by people who belong to the same organization, that fills in as you play. And yes, raising trust with characters by using them does fill in the names of people close to them who you haven’t met yet, as well as new connections to unknown people. Who is friends with Croissant?! I must know!

Er... Anyway, I think having this chart in-game is quite frankly a genius move on the part of the developers, since it gets you immediately invested in seeing how the characters are connected. But wait, there’s more! When you pull a dupe from the gacha, you get a little token that can be used to upgrade a character slightly, pretty normal. But even these little tokens have tiny bits of story on them!

These are the items that are important to these characters, and they can change the way you see them. Every little thing in this game has story attached to it! It’s incredible! And they actually tell stories with these things. There’s one in particular that fascinates me (and others), but unfortunately I have exactly 0 of the characters involved so I’ll have to pull quotes from the wiki.

There are three characters from a faction called Rhine Lab: Ifirit, Saria, and Silence. The details are pretty vague, but basically Ifrit is an Infected child with incredible Originium channeling powers who’s been experimented on, and Saria and Silence are two doctors who were involved in those experiments but had a falling out after an experiment gone wrong. But how does the game tell you this? Well, lots of ways. Saria’s profile is the most explicit:

The relationship between Lady Saria and Rhine Lab is very complicated. Though all Rhine Lab Operators who work with Rhodes Island show some amount of respect for Lady Saria, Rhine Lab's Medic Operator, Silence, shows nothing but hatred for her. At the same time, Lady Saria appears unsurprised by Silence's feelings toward her. Whenever Lady Saria attempts to talk with Caster Operator Ifrit, Silence gets in the way. According to available information, the animosity between Saria and Silence stems from an experiment at Rhine Lab led by Silence. The experiment was an unfortunate failure. Lady Saria acted alone in suppressing the experimental materials that had gone out of control. Similarly, because of this experiment's mishaps, Lady Saria left Rhine Lab. It is not known why she chose to cooperate with Rhodes Island after leaving Rhine Lab.

But then you have Ifrit and Silence’s tokens:

A long novel telling a legendary story. It is badly burned and you can only barely make out the words.

A patterned feather decoration. This ineloquent researcher from Liberi shows her sincerity by gifting her own feathers.

But oh gee, guess who are wearing feather tokens in the designs?  (it’s Ifrit and Saria)

Also here’s Silence just so you aren’t left wondering what she looks like:

Anyway, the point is that the writers know how to throw tiny bits of characterization and hints of an untold story into literally everything in this game, and that is exactly what I live for.

Oh yeah, there’s also Gameplay.

Game’s pretty fun:

I enjoy it as a game too.

[bellakitse]

58. “You don’t have to say anything.” - Tarlos 😊

In hindsight, TK should have considered that they could runinto Alex when he comes back to New York two years later to visit his motherwith Carlos at his side. The city has 9 million people, but he’s visiting allhis old stomping grounds wanting to show the love of his life the city he lovesso much. Of course, there was a chance for them to run into his ex.

He just doesn’t think about it when he’s happily draggingCarlos around, trying to show him everything NYC has to offer. Right now, thatinvolves one of the best pizza slices in the city while they sit in BryantPark.

“Tell me that’s not the best pizza you’ve ever had?” TK askswith a smirk as he watches Carlos devour into his slice.

Carlos shrugs with a smirk of his own, obviously notinterested in conceding to TK’s superior taste. “It’s okay, Texan barbeque isbetter though.”

“That’s apples and oranges!” TK exclaims with a laugh,shaking his head as Carlos grins at him. “You’re the one that insisted we cometo New York in the first place, now admit you’re having fun.”

Carlos smiles softly at him. He leans over the tiny tablethey’re sitting at, bringing his face inches away from his. TK licks his lipsas he stares at Carlos’ mouth, as always, he gets a little hazy when Carlosgets this close.

“I’m having fun, cariño,” Carlos whispers, his lips brushingagainst TK’s before pulling back, his grin growing as TK follows. “I alwayshave fun when I’m with you,” Carlos pauses for a moment before rolling hiseyes. “And yes, the pizza was really good.”

“Ha!” TK shouts victoriously, laughing into the kiss Carlosgives him to stop him from being smug.

TK is so lost in kissing him back he’s startled when hehears a familiar voice.

“TK?”

TK freezes for a moment, hoping it’s his imagination. Hepulls back and looks at Carlos, finding a concerned frown on his face; no doubthe felt TK go tense. He reaches out for his hand, squeezing it before he looksover at the person who has walked up to their table.

“Alex,” he greets, proud when his voice doesn’t waver. Helooks at the man he once considered his soulmate and lets out a relieved breathwhen his heart doesn’t thump painfully at the sight of him or the man next tohim, who is looking at TK curiously. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Alex greets back with an awkward smile, his eyesshifting from him to Carlos to the guy next to him. “This is Dylan.”

“Hi Dylan,” TK nods, throwing Alex a look at the name, hedoesn’t say it out loud, but the slight cringe on Alex's face lets him know heheard the poke in TK’s voice. So much for Mitchell and true love.

He turns to Carlos, his breath catching when he finds himlooking at him in that quietly supportive way of his, not a hint of anythingother than concern and love for him. He smiles, silently thanking him, hisheart beating steady when Carlos smiles back.

“This is Carlos,” he says softly, not looking away from him,he vaguely hears the rest of the men exchange polite hellos.

“So, what brings you back home?” Alex asks, drawing back hisattention. “I heard you moved to Texas, are you moving back?”

TK snorts, sharing an amused smile with Carlos. “God, no,”he laughs softly. “We’re heading back home in a few days. Just came to visit mymom because of this one,” he points at Carlos with an amused face.

Alex gives them a curious look, and TK bites down on hislip, not sure if he should continue. Looking at Carlos, he gets back a shrugthat lets TK know it’s up to him.

“This cowboy is old-fashioned,” TK starts, flashing Carlos ateasing smile when he scoffs. “He wanted to come and ask my mom in person formy hand.”

“Tell me with a straight face that Gwen would have been coolwith me asking Owen for your hand in marriage and not her,” Carlos says dryly.“Go ahead.”

TK laughs, rolling his eyes at how ridiculously true the statementis. “Fair enough.”

“You’re getting married,” Alex questions quietly, looking atTK with an unreadable expression.

TK looks at him for a moment; he loved this man enough onceto think he wanted to spend the rest of his life with him. When he dumped him,he broke TK in a way he didn’t believe he could heal from. Now, years later, ashe looks forward to a future with a man he loves more than anything on earth,he’s grateful.

“You don’t have to say anything,” TK starts, taking asteadying breath. “I would prefer if you didn’t, actually, and just let mespeak.”

Alex nods after a moment.

“Cheating on me was wrong of you,” TK says bluntly, watchingas his eyes and his boyfriend’s widen, he doesn’t need to look at Carlos toknow his focus is on TK alone. “But not agreeing to marry me when I asked youwas the best thing you did for me. I know I loved you, I know it. But it’s notlike the love I have now,” he says quietly, looking over at Carlos for amoment, swallowing as he gives him a shaky smile that eases as Carlos retakeshis hand. “So, I thank you for not letting us make that mistake.”

TK watches Alex, he can tell he wants to answer but in theend, maybe out of a moment of kindness, all the man does is give him anothernod before he and his boyfriend turn around without saying a word as they walkout of TK’s life, hopefully for good.

Carlos tugs him forward, and TK goes easily, letting out abreath as he tucks his face into his neck as Carlos’ strong arms surroundhim.

“I’m proud of you,” he whispers into TK’s hair.

“I love you,” he whispers back.

[pyrrhicwildfire]

※DO NOT REPOST / HOST MY WORK ON OTHER APPS OR SITES

Ochako had often been curious how Todoroki and Bakugou would develop as partners ever since the truth came out that they were together in a romantic sense.

Could anyone blame her? They were both people with strong personalities, besides having strong quirks, and she’s never quite envisioned that they’d end up falling in love, least of all with each other. She never doubted that they could fall in love, but it wasn’t something she’d personally imagined as something that had been going on under all their noses without anyone knowing.

She understood Bakugou being quiet about such a thing because it was not in his nature to expose too much of his personal life...but Todoroki was never shy to talk about himself should anyone ask him anything frankly.

How could she have even known that they were together when neither of them acted any differently when they were still students?

And now, here she is, in their shared abode as pro heroes.

It’s so clean. It’s a direct contrast to her own room at home— not that she’s a messy person in particular! It’s just that she doesn’t always reserve time for cleaning in the same way Bakugou does...she’s sure she’s not the oddity. Even Mina and Kaminari weren’t this clean when she came over to their apartments as a surprise along with other UA alumni.

“Todoroki-kun, I’m coming in!” she calls out, setting away the keys Bakugou had given to her to use on one of the nearby desks. “Are you awake?”

“Uraraka, you’re here,” Todoroki greets, looking awfully composed despite the arm he has in a brace. He’s in a simple white tee and sweatpants; Ochako would guess that he just woke up, if not for how cleaned up he looks despite the casual dress. “Sorry for troubling you,” he adds with a bow of his head.

“Psh, we’re friends, you’re not bothering me at all,” she says with a grin. “Besides, I’m sure Bakugou-kun will give me dinner too since I got the groceries for you both!”

“He would do that,” Todoroki agrees, smiling softly. “Come in, I can serve tea.”

“No, injured people shouldn’t do any serving,” Ochako declines easily, clicking her tongue at him. Really, Todoroki was too nice sometimes. “I’ll get the tea for us both! Just lead the way to the kitchen.”

“It’s not any trouble for me at all, though.”

“I insist, Todoroki-kun!” she says.

He smiles at her. It’s a charming look on him, for sure; to think, happiness could make someone look so different in a good way!

She says as much once she’s done (bullying Todoroki into letting her go ahead with) pouring tea for them both.

“You know, happiness makes you look even more handsome, Todoroki-kun.”

“Does it?” he asks, lowering his cup of tea with his one uninjured hand to the table. “Thank you.”

“It’s the first time I’ve visited your home with Bakugou-kun,” she points out, smiling at him. “It’s all so neat! It must be fun to live with him.”

Todoroki makes a small noise under his breath. Ochako wonders if that was a laugh, or something else, before forgetting it entirely when Todoroki says, “It is fun, actually. Living with him like this is different from when we were at the dorms, because we actually share a room this time instead of a building.”

Oh? Ochako grins in interest, resting her chin on her twined fingers as she looks at Todoroki. “Is it that different?”

“Mm,” Todoroki hums, nodding his head. “Katsuki feels freer to be affectionate like this.”

Ochako coughs to hide the gleeful laugh threatening to spill from her mouth. She hopes Bakugou doesn’t get home soon so she can hear more! “You were dating back in our third year at UA, right? It really was different then...none of us had a clue you’d be together!”

“I think Katsuki wanted it like that,” Todoroki says, before pausing to take a drink from his tea. “He doesn’t like people being too nosy with him. It wasn’t that he wanted us to be a secret either...he wouldn’t have minded if people found out the truth, he just disliked the idea of people invading our privacy needlessly.”

“Oh, I understand,” Ochako agrees with a solemn nod. “You don’t have to tell me anything if it’s troubling for you, then!”

Todoroki’s intent gaze on her lets her know that her questions aren’t a disturbance at all. He even says, “No, I don’t mind.”

Could it be...Todoroki-kun is the type to want to talk a lot about someone he loves?

“Do you want us to talk about it?” she asks.

Todoroki hums as a vague answer. Then, he says, “He’s not at all ashamed to say that he loves me, but...”

“But?“

“He’s shy when I talk too much about it,” Todoroki says frankly, before drinking from his cup again.

Oh my god. They’re so cute, Ochako thinks desperately to herself, even while maintaining a soft look of understanding on her face. I’m so glad they can be this happy with each other!

“I never took Bakugou-kun to be the shy type,” she says, before drinking from her own cup of tea. “In fact, he doesn’t seem shy at all to talk about you when people ask about it.”

“That’s because those are things he can answer frankly,” he explains. “That’s different, compared to when I tell him that I love both his sleeping face and waking face in the morning. He was oddly flustered about that.”

Cute!!!

Ochako clears her throat to calm her inner voice. “That’s...wow. I didn’t think you had it in you to say those kinds of things, Todoroki-kun!”

“Those kinds of things?” Todoroki parrots. “I was just saying the truth, though. I don’t often get to wake before him, so I wanted to say that before I never got the chance again.”

“I’d understand why Bakugou-kun would be shy, then, if it’s not something he’s used to,” Ochako says. “I feel embarrassed just hearing about it, and it’s not even about me! But not in a bad way, just—” she waves her hand in a vague gesture. “Something like that!”

“So, if I say it more often, it’s possible for him to feel less shy about it?”

Ochako considers it, before shrugging. Bakugou was a lot more complicated than people expected him to be, and he didn’t always react in a way that you think he would. “Maybe, maybe not? It really depends.”

“I like him being shy, though,” Todoroki confesses.

Ochako thanks the gods above that she wasn’t drinking her tea when Todoroki said as much, because she’s sure she would have choked.Wow! How was it that she’s never seen this side of Todoroki before, when he’s clearly unashamed to talk about his fondness for Bakugou?

“That’s,” Ochako says, struggling not to laugh, “that’s kind of embarrassing to say, Todoroki-kun!”

“Is it? I didn’t think that...”

If Bakugou had to deal with this kind of thing every day...I’m surprised he hasn’t exploded yet! Ochako thinks while stifling her laughter. “Well, it isn’t bad, I think! A flustered Bakugou-kun can be cute too!”

“I’m glad you agree,” Todoroki says, far too seriously for such a plain (and clearly fond!) statement. “He always gets angry when I say that he’s cute, though. Maybe because people don’t really say that about him often...I’m fine with being the only one to, though.”

“Bakugou-kun is really loved,” Ochako says, nodding in satisfaction before she finishes off her cup of tea. “I’m glad! How about you, though, Todoroki-kun? Do you feel loved?”

Todoroki’s expression goes very soft very quickly, Ochako almost makes an embarrassing noise out of surprise. His eyebrows gentle in their firm lines, and his eyes, even with their opposing colors, turn warm. Even his polite smile manages to change into something soft and sweet, which she’s only ever seen hints of whenever Bakugou is around. He says, “I—”

Knock knock knock.

“Oi, open the door.”

“Oh, Bakugou-kun’s here! So quick,“ she says as she stands up. “I’ll get the door so just stay here, Todoroki-kun!”

Todoroki nods easily enough, which catches Ochako off guard for a moment. She’d have thought, given his obvious fondness, that he’d be eager to greet Bakugou as he comes in instead of letting her do it.

...well, she’s probably just overthinking it.

“I’m coming!” she calls out, rushing over to the genkan before unlocking the door. Bakugou, dressed down to civilian clothes, greets her with a bored expression the moment he enters.

“I’m home,” he says, seeming more out of habit than anything else as he removes his shoes and slips into grey house slippers. 

“Welcome home,” Ochako says, grinning cheekily at the huff it gets her in response. “We were both just drinking tea in the kitchen, Bakugou-kun. Do you want me to get you a cup?"

“Sure,” he says easily enough, following after her as she returns to their kitchen.

Todoroki visibly perks up when he sees Bakugou coming in right after her. The sight of it is so surprisingly cute that Ochako has to cover her mouth from letting out an accidental giggle. “Welcome home,“ Todoroki tells him. “I’m hungry.”

“I just got home, and that’s the first thing you tell me? You’re too spoiled,” Bakugou huffs, before coming over to pinch Todoroki on the nose. “I’m only allowing this because you’re injured.”

“Mm, I know,” Todoroki says, smiling as he cranes his neck back, almost like asking for something. Ochako watches it all happen from the corner of her eye as she pours a cup of tea for Bakugou; she’s a little surprised that they could act so affectionate so openly, even while knowing that there’s someone else present in their home.

Then, Bakugou kisses Todoroki on the forehead.

Ochako coughs loudly, before grinning at the glare Bakugou throws her way when he pulls back. It’s amazing how much less effective his intimidation tactics are when she’s just witnessed him being cute with Todoroki. She was never scared of him even in the beginning, knowing that he was really mostly bark than bite, but this definitely took the cake when it came to proving her point that he’s not a person to fear when you’re a friend.

“You’re staying for dinner,” Bakugou says imperiously, not saying anything about that little domestic act she just witnessed. He even accepts the cup of tea she’d poured for him, but not before having it pass from Todoroki’s uninjured, heat quirk-using hand.

She agrees easily to the invitation. “Sure!”

“Do I get cold soba?” Todoroki asks. 

“No. You’re injured and you need to recover; eating food other than cold soba will help.”

Todoroki throws a sulky look at him. His lips are pursed somewhat, his eyes gleaming with dissatisfaction— Ochako wouldn’t think this was the same person as earlier who’d insisted that he would pour tea for her even when he was injured.

It’s like...he’s acting more spoiled, now that Bakugou is there to spoil him.

Oh.

“You two are really cute,” she says, grinning at the contrasting expressions she gets on both their faces. Todoroki blinks at her in quiet surprise, while Bakugou squints like he’s trying to figure out her hidden intentions. “I think I’ve figured it out,” she adds, belatedly remembering a small (but very important) detail she’d almost forgotten to mention.

“Hah? Figured what out?” Bakugou asks her, setting down his now-empty cup.

“Did you know? Recovery Girl’s niece is a practicing doctor now too,” she says while resting her cheek on one hand. “She’s a fan of pro hero Shouto, there’s no doubt she’d heal him quick if ever he needed it. Her quirk has more to do with healing bones too, which is lucky! I just remembered that.”

Todoroki says nothing to that. Bakugou looks annoyed still, though it’s subdued...almost like he’s starting to get a grasp of what she means.

She doesn’t say anything for a while, just watching happily as Todoroki stays still in his seat while throwing furtive glances Bakugou’s way.

Eventually, Bakugou shakes his head with a huff. “This idiot can handle a small injury. He can’t abuse that kinda quirk when it was his mistake that gave him a broken arm in the first place,” Bakugou says, roughly messing up Todoroki’s hair with one hand before getting the ingredients Ochako had set aside on the kitchen countertop. As he’s laying them all out in preparation, he adds, “And he likes being spoiled. Don’t be fooled by that face of his; he can be pretty selfish when he wants to be.”

Todoroki is smiling when Ochako turns her gaze to him.

“Katsuki is kind, for loving the selfish me,” Todoroki says, gaze lowered to his lap, the downward angle of his face giving her a slight peek at smiling eyes.

Wow.

“Nothing kind about common sense,” Bakugou says, not once looking their way as he brings out pots and pans for the soup he’s going to make. “Because I love you, I’m not gonna pick out which parts to love. You’re stuck with me now, idiot.”

Ochako shoots a grin Todoroki’s way, who doesn’t bother to hide the wide smile on his own face when he raises his head to her.

“And I’m glad for that,” Todoroki says. Then, nodding to the teapot, he says, “Did you want more tea, Uraraka? I could heat it up.”

“Nope, I’m good! I want to be hungry so I can eat a lot of Bakugou-kun’s food,” she says, laughing at the middle finger Bakugou consequently flips at her.

Ah, how nice.

They really are that deeply in love with each other.

[aki-draws-things]

NaNoWriMo 2020 #09

That fic should have some warning tags for implied rape and abuse, (and i’ve tagged it.) but rest assured i didn’t described a single thing. I don’t write smut so I’ll just limit myself to let it be implied it happened.

As the other chapters too, characters are most definitely OOC. I won’t use the Nano challenge to make a study on them and figure out their voices, I just let the stories come out, I still wish to apologize for that. I’m still trying my best to make those fics nice and entraining enough.

(Next three days will be connected and finally angst will punch us straight in the face! :D Is someone ready as I am?)

Day: 09/11/2020

Prompt: dirty secret

Ship: None official

Word Count: 2192

"Shi-ge!" if anyone would connect the excited voice to the one and only uptight Jin ZiXuan, that wouldn't be the Jiang siblings. None of them, even though Jiang YanLi always said that there was more than a stern look underneath, but it was her heart speaking, her brothers were sure of that. They turned in time to see Nie HuaiSang and Jin ZiXuan colliding against a taller man who easily grabbed them before they could risk tumbling over. That was a weird sight, mad weirder by the knowledge that nothing strange went around cloud recesses to make them act like that. Well, perhaps nie HuaiSang had a valid reason to behave like that, they found out a little later, the man was, in fact, his older brother, leader of the Nie sect. Yes, huaisang could act like that and throw himself at him. But the Jin peacock? 

When he was little, Jin ZiXuan, knew nothing about hate. Many people seemed to despise and hate his father and he couldn't figure out the reason not even . if he tried. Maybe he wasn't the most open and affectionate man, maybe he didn't spend much time with his family as other fathers did, but that wasn't enough to hate him. 

Then one day two boys were taken in Jinlintai, dressed in a dusty dark gray robe the older and a cream one the younger who looked roughly his age, his father said they would now live there and Zixuan nodded eagerly. He would finally have someone to play with that wasn't his annoying cousin. But why did  the two boys look so sad? Didn't they like the palace? Or their rooms? Or the new, better clothes? Jin zixuan was confused. 

The older one locked in his room for hours, studying dutifully. Or he went to the training ground among the older Jin disciples, with a sword much bigger than theirs, and trained until the sun set and the younger one left their plays to run fetch him and drag him back to his room. Back and forth. Every day. 

He scowled and snarled angrily at his father for reasons Jin zixuan didn't understand. Maybe their parents never taught them to be polite? But he was so kind and caring with his little brother. 

"A-die and A-niang are gone." the younger, Huaisang, explained to him once. 

"gone? Gone where? Are they coming back?" 

Huaisang scrolled his shoulders. 

"I don't know. Da-ge always says gone." 

It would take a couple more years for him to understand what gone meant. His lips trembled as he tried not to cry. 

"why are you crying?" the older, mingjue, asked. "it's not your family to be dead." 

"but it's sad, shi-ge…" he bawled softly against his chest. Huaisang crawled on him and hid his face against the neck over the golden robes. "I don't like shi-ge and shidi sad." Huaisang started crying too and soon enough nie mingjue found himself having to pick both of them in his arms and go back to the palace.

"then stop crying, silly boy." 

One thing Jin guangshan didn't know the day he gladly took the two nie boys in his sect was the truth about the older one. He didn't complain when the Nie sect elders came to him and asked for his protection after their master died too early, on the contrary. Having some sort of power over Qinghe would make him greater, even  almost compared to the wen sect now. He was surprised the older son of the Nie leader didn't take over his sect. He was Sixteen, old enough to lead them. Or so the world thought. The elders gave him vague answers, how nie mingjue while having a high cultivation was unfit to lead them, really, Jin guangshan never complained. He couldn't see the unfitting things they supposedly talked about but it was fine for him. He had power, he was in control of one of the main sects and he only had to thank wen ruohan for that. In the public eyes he was going to teach nie mingjue and raise him to become one day the great leader he was. In truth he meant to keep his grasp on Qinghe for as long as possible and there was an easy way to ensure that.

A child. 

It had been two years since the Nie brothers came to Lanling and jin guangshan secretly took great pride and pleasure in having unfold one of the greatest secrets the Nies were keeping. The younger one, with his poor cultivation and his innocent mind, with his liking for pretty songbirds and for arts was in fact, a young girl. 

Still too young, he reminded himself, but in a couple of years she would be old enough to bear his children and at that point her brother could do nothing but leave the power to him if he didn't want all the affair to be exposed. 

Yes, Jin guangshan prided himself in his knowledge. 

But when he went to inform nie mingjue of said knowledge and his plans he almost didn't believe his eyes. 

He almost lost his eyes to a double hairpin. 

It took him a couple of minutes to realize he had been wrong, that explained even better the reasons nie mingjue didn't take his clan in hand. He couldn't. The Nie sect, just as most of the main sects, had always been led by men. Lan Yi tried once, but never succeeded. Leading wasn't a woman's duty after all. They were weak. Unfit. 

"get out before I carve your eyes out." he, she, threatened him, chest now covered with a loose robe and fresh clean bandages scattered over the bed. Jin guangshan should have been afraid, he knew the strength nie mingjue had all too well, he saw him her defeat his best disciples in training, even the older ones. And look at that. She was a girl. 

Jin guangshan barely remembered nie MingJue's mother, she was undoubtedly strong, and her eyes had a gold hue when she was angry. Mingjue probably took her high cultivation from her. Still, unfit to leadership. 

"You won't." he simply said. Closed the door behind himself and took a step closer looking closer at the body before him. She was pretty, after all. Perhaps with the right kind of clothing it would be easy to hide the larger shoulders, a different hairstyle would make her look more feminine, even eligible for marriage. 

His plansw changed. 

"I was wrong." he admitted, a hand reaching to take a strand of hair. Nie mingjue stepped back. "you know, I thought little huaisang was the girl, I would have never imagined. But now that I know I notice all the little things. It's quite obvious." 

"no it's not." nie mingjue growled. “There’s nothing obvious because you don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Defensive, Jin GuangShan thought. Desperate to keep herself safe. She wouldn’t be easy to tame, too wild, just as most Nies, but the reward would be even greater if, when, he would succeed.

“Oh, but I’m not here to judge you, Miss Nie. - Nie MingJue sprinted forward, he pushed Jun GuangShan against the wall hand held a hairpin between his eyes, definitely not afraid to use it. He remained calm. - I can understand why you never mentioned it. You, a woman, unable to lead your clan at your father’s too early death. Your brother, still too little, his cultivation too poor. The Nie Sect is destined to fall.”

Nie MingJue wasn't to speak back, to say once more he was a man, no matter what his body would say, he had always been a man ever since he had memory, and as such both his parents and HuaiSang's mother raised him. As the one he truly was.

“Sometimes the reincarnation cycle get messed up a little. Sometimes the heavens like to test our strength in order to make us stronger.”

“Why do they like it? It’s not fun! It’s painful.” Nie MingJue complained.

“Because they have yet to learn, - His father said fastening a braid on his head. - That us humans will find a way to defy them. There’s nothing wrong in the way you are or you feel.”

“It’s unbalanced.”

“And then you find your own way to balance it. Show them not to mess up with us Nies.” Yue HuangShui laughed and Nie MingJue followed their worlds ever since.

“But I have a way to prevent it.” Jin GuangShan’s voice brought him back to reality. There was something in his look that MingJue didn’t like, something that screamed at him bot to trust him.

“What?” His voice came out strangled and almost shy, he shuddered as the Jin Leader moved closer, his hand opening the robe just enough to expose his skin.

“A rightful heir.”

Nie MingJue always cried more than his little brother Huaisang, that was common knowledge for most people who knew them. He did his best to look stern when outside in public, he took every hit and every hint and let them build up inside of him only to explode when he was finally alone.

“Rightful my ass.” He muttered in anger and frustration some months later when he found his usual robe was too tight and uncomfortable and he settled for something loose.

“If he dares to set foot in the Unclean Realms I’m going to throw him down the walls.” He threw a warmer robe over his shaking shoulders, as he emptied a bowl outside. His qi rattled along with his anger and he ended up feeling sick once more.

Maybe in that way he would get rid of — No.

He fell on his knees, hands pressed over his mouth in shock. How could he even think that? What kind of monster would ever think that.tears fell and he curled up on himself.

“Shi-ge, do you still feel sick? Do I have to call a healer?” He yelled at Jin ZiXuan too Levi him alone.

“Da-ge you need to eat something.” Nie Huaisang put his head inside the room and looked at where his brother was curled on the floor. “I have soup.”

“And fruit.” ZiXuan chimed in, a plate held carefully on a tray next to a steaming bowl. “I’ve asked A-Fu to cut some bunnies in the apples!”

“I’m not hungry.” They left the tray inside the room and with a look at each other they left.

“Shi-ge…” Jin ZiXuan called sleepily. “Jue-gege…” He poked at his cheek until he finally woke up to find the young Jin heir with a consumed candle and a blanket standing next to his bed, Huaisang sleeping soundly on his own bed against the wall.

“What A-Xuan?” He yawned and the boy climbed on the bed next to him holding the blanket at his chest.

“Do you like A-Xuan?” Nie MingJue nodded, not in the right mood for that kind of conversation, and neither was ZiXuan, both too sleepy for that.

“Will you like Meimei too?”

“How can you say it will be a little girl?” He asked, voice softening as ZiXuan bended over and curled over his chest and stomach.

“No stealing Da-ge…” Huaisang slurred climbing on the now crowded bed and fast falling back asleep.

“I’d like a little sister. - He revealed closing his eyes. - but a little brother would be nice too. A-Xuan will like him anyway. A lot lot.”

When the time came Nie MingJue almost refused to look at the little things crying at the top of her lungs. He managed to ignore her for three whole minutes before feeling his chest tight at her cries and gathering her in his arms where she settled comfortably.

“She’s so pretty.” Jin ZiXuan nodded in agreement with huaisang, his finger held in her tiny hand without the intention of letting go. She was going to be a Nie, MingJue said. She would never be a Jin, she wouldn’t grow up in Lanling but in Qinghe, she would never be one of the many bastards and, even more importantly, she would never be recognized as Jin GuangShan’s daughter.

“But she’s still your Meimei.” He assured to a mildly worried ZiXuan who, in answer, hugged her little arm and brushed his cheek against her head like HuaiSang always used to do in affection.

A young girl in dark gray robes ran from behind Nie MingJue and threw herself at Jin ZiXuan who promptly caught her.

“Da-ge! I want to show you something when you come to Qinghe!” She exclaimed excitedly before throwing herself in the same fashion at Nie huaisang who, while trying to catch her, tumbled on the grass with her arms secured around his neck.

“I’ve heard some things from Huaisang during this past months.” Jin ZiXuan said, his voice vague. “About a proper Master Nie who tamed the great beast of the mountains.” Nie MingJue barely hid a smile gathering the little girl on his arm and dragging HuaiSang back on his feet.

“Can we expect a new little brother?”

[hell-much]

15 from that winter prompts

“ i’m having a snowball fight with my friend in the park and i hit you instead “

Here my particular talent to turn a prompt that would have sparked fluff in any other person’s imagination to mild angst. :)

Hope you still enjoy! Thank you for the prompt!

—-

Snow in King’s Landing was something that happened about once a decade and Jeyne had dragged her outside, when Sansa had been barely awake, still confused about the first glance out the window and the sight of tree branches covered in delicate layers of snow.

Her best friend had gotten her to leave her room behind under the pretence of watching and making fun of “Southerners failing at handling the cold”, but, as old habits died hard, it taken less than thirty minutes of trudging through the thin layer of snow until the first snowball had been flung in Sansa’s direction.

Despite Sansa’s less than enthusiastic mood going into this walk, she had ended up having a great deal of fun.

Jeyne was as relentless and precise in firing heaps of snow her way at the age of twenty, as she had been as an eight year old. Sansa herself had never been particular good with aiming, especially not when moving around, but growing up with four brothers -and Arya-, she had perfectionated ducking out just in time.

They found themselves in a mess of giggling, shrieking, tousled hair and ice cold fingers; one that came to an abrupt hold when the shriek that followed one of Sansa’s uncoordinated throws was most definitely not Jeyne’s.

Sansa covered her mouth with her hands when she spotted the woman, only a few metres away, wiping a lawyer of snow from her face and hair, quietly cursing as she did so.

“Oh my Gods,” Sansa exclaimed, brushing remaining snow off her coat and made her way to her accidental victim. “Are you okay? I am so—”

She recognized Margaery only when it was too late, too late to hide out, most definitely too late to run in the other direction; she’d spotted her too.

“—sorry,” she ended her sentences quietly, coming into a stop in front of her.

Margaery looked at her through eyes smudged with mascara, brushing a remaining snow out of a clearly ruined hair style.

“I’m sorry,” Sansa repeated. “I was aiming at my friend …” She broke off and vaguely waved a hand in Jeyne’s direction.

“And you clearly need to work on your aim?”

Sansa sighed. “Clearly.” She pulled a tissue from her coat pocket handing it to Margaery. “I’m really sorry.”

Margaery gave her a half smile when taking the tissue and running it over her face. “All that apologizing has me thinking you might have done this on purpose.” She fished her phone out of the purse she was carrying and gave herself a quick look with the front camera. “Shit.”

“It’s not that bad.”

Those words earned Sansa an exasperated glance, while she did her best to fix smudged make-up. “I have an interview in thirty minutes.”

Sansa made a face. “In that case it is bad.”

To her relief Margaery saved any words of blame, but nervousness grew in her features as she took a look on her watch.

“Everything okay?” Sansa flinched at the sound of Jeyne’s voice. Her best friend had not exactly snuck up on them, but Sansa had been so very preoccupied with this involuntary run-in to Margaery she had not noticed her approaching.

“Not exactly,” Margaery breathed with another glance to her watch. “I… have no time to fix this.” She gestured towards her face.

“You know,” Jeyne started out, and only by her tone Sansa knew to brace herself for whatever was coming. “Sansa here, lives just up the street. You could freshen up there.”

Brown eyes regained a spark of hope as they darted ever so briefly to Jeyne and then settled on Sansa with hesitance. “Would that be okay?”

No, it most definitely wouldn’t be.

Sansa denied herself the urge to send a murderous glance in her best friends direction.

Jeyne wasn’t to blame here. Her state of knowledge was that Sansa had an all embracing crush on the brunette from her class. Her friend probably thought she did her a huge favour, giving her an excuse to take her back to her dorm room and that was Sansa’s own fault. If Jeyne knew, if Sansa had told her about what had happened, she’d never made the suggestion in the first place; or look between them with that cocky smile.

In the end, all that Sansa could do was nod. There really wasn’t much of an alternative. When responsible for ruining a girl’s appearance, you could not exactly deny her help.

Decisive to do as much damage control as still possible -meaning not giving her friend a chance to speak another word- Sansa made a gesture towards the building on the other side of the park. “Let’s go.”

That Jeyne -ever so conveniently- remembered a class she had to attend, was a fortune and unfortune for Sansa at the same time.

Her and Margaery walked to her dorm building in silence. It was a good ten minute walk away, but Sansa picked up a speed  that aimed for cutting time in half. One that Margarey went along with her pace effortlessly; maybe she appreciated cutting the awkwardness short, maybe being in a rush she did not have time to waste on small talk.

Only when they were already inside the building, in front of her door; Sansa fidgeting with her keys Margaery broke the silence eventually.

“So how have you been?”

“Good.” Sansa lied through a tight smile.

“Good.”

Sansa hated how her internalized politeness would forever win out over her need of not having to do small talk. “And you?”

“I’m fine.” Any other day Margaery’s smile could light up a room, always so genuine and heartfelt; that forced look of ease on her face today was barely enough to spark a candle. “I haven’t seen a lot of you lately.”

“No, I just came back from Winterfell this week.”

“So you did end up going home for the holidays.” Margaery looked sincerely happy to hear so.

“I did.”

“And you had a good time?”

“I did.” Sansa turned the key in the lock and the awkwardness of about to be alone with Margaery in her room caught up with her; this time she felt the need to fill the silence. “What did you do for the holidays?”

“I stayed in town,” Margaery returned.

“All by yourself?”

“Yes.”

“And your family?”

“Loras was with his boyfriend’s family for the holidays. And my parents decided to escape this cold spell by going on a cruise. They invited me to come, but the idea of my dad doing karaoke in his speedos on the pool deck…” Margaery made a face.

Sansa chuckled at the mental image and Margaery shot her a dazzling smile, as if hearing her laugh was all she had waited for; the soft smile lasted still as Margaery stepped past her into the room.

Margaery took a subtle glance around the room, while she worked on detangling her scarf and unzipping her coat. With the door closed behind her, Sansa was for a moment at a loss what to do; sincerely forgot how she normally behaved in her own room.

She cleared her throat, when she caught Margaery watching her. “So, where is the interview?”

“Lannister LLP.”

Sansa’s eyebrows shot to her hairline and her hands dropped from working the buttons of her coat. “Seriously?”

Margaery gave her trademark lopsided smirk, evidently not at all surprised with her reaction. “I take it that’s not admiration talking.”

“Not exactly.” It came out sounding harsh and wrong, and she corrected herself. “I mean, it is impressive that you got an interview.”

From what she had heard, getting a foot in the door with Lannister LLP was sheer impossible even for bar certified lawyers with several years of experience under their belt. The general assumption was that they did not even consider law students for internships.

“But?” Margaery probed, looking gently amused.

“Why in the world would you want to work for Cersei Lannister?”

Their shared dislike over their professor for family law was one of the first things that had them bonding. Cersei Lannister was known for being controversial in her approaches, merciless with her students and deadly with opponents in any courtroom.

Sansa for the most part stuck to rolling her eyes in class and complaining about the professor after. Margaery on the other hand was known to outright challenge Cersei Lannister in almost every single class; something that had the professor seething and her fellow students profoundly entertained.

Margaery shrugged, while unbuttoning her coat. “She is a raging bitch, but she’s also the best in her field and I do aim at getting into family law.”

Slipping out of her coat Margaery made a sound of dismay when discovering that a good deal of snow had stained and damped her blouse. She rubbed her hand over the spots, that would doubtlessly dry with time, but not in time or in a way that would have her presentable to face the sceptical eyes of Cersei Lannister.

For the first time Margaery looked at Sansa with a hint of blame. “Gee, when you make a mess you do so properly, don’t you?”

She seemed to realize the implication of her words as soon as she said them, regret coming into her features, while Sansa looked at her for a long moment in dire silence.

Without a reply Sansa spun around to her closet then, and started to push hangers back and forth. Trying to get her hands on the white silken blouse she’d worn only worn for her aunt’s birthday took her just long enough to get herself back under control.

She spun around again, her face merged into relaxed neutrality and held the piece of clothing out to Margaery. The sense of regret had not left Margaery’s features altogether, but still being pressed for time, her eyes left Sansa and went over the fabric. It was more fashionable chic than the clean business look Margaery had going on with her black pantsuit, but it still could work.

Sansa pointed to the door behind herself. “The bathroom is right here. Help yourself to towels, hair dryer… whatever you need.”

“Thank you.”

Their fingers brushed when Margaery took the hanger out of her hand, leaving Sansa’s skin burning even when the bathroom door had closed behind Margaery. Sansa released a breath and pulled off her own coat, dumping it over her desk chair.

She sunk down on her bed and stared at the closed door. From inside the bathroom she could hear water running, the sound of the hair dryer turning on a moment later.

A month ago the prospect of having Margaery in her room would have thrilled her. In fact she’d tried on several occasions coming up with an excuse that would bring them back here. This particular reality did not live up to how she’d planned for this moment to go.

It was a mess. And the worst thing was that she did not have anyone but herself to blame for that; and not just her lack of aim when she’d thrown that snowball today.

Not that it mattered; there was nothing she could do what had happened.

And Margaery… she would be out of here in a matter of minutes and then Sansa would get a new chance at her plan to avoid her; at least until the thought of her did not feel like it was tearing her apart from the inside anymore.

Margaery finished whatever she had been doing in the bathroom in record time and emerged in a cloud of flowery smell, with her hair fixed, her make up freshened up. She had Sansa’s blouse tucked into her pants and it complementing her figure a great deal better than Sansa had expected. Distractingly so.

“What do you think?” Margaery asked, making a half spin in front of her. “Good enough for the she-devil?”

Sansa couldn’t contain her smile looking up at her. And for once today she didn’t hold back in looking at her. If she’d deprive herself of seeing her again any time soon, she wanted to soak her image up now.

She looked so beautiful. If possible not seeing her in three and a half weeks seemed to have made her even more gorgeous.

It was being so very caught up by her appearance, that had Sansa’s mouth work faster than her mind. “Way too good.”

The way Margaery smiled, almost shyly, -Gods, was Margaery Tyrell blushing?- and tucked a curl behind her ear did not make the fluttering in Sansa’s stomach any better.

In her very last attempt to push that away, Sansa reached for Margaery’s coat next to her on the bed and held it out to her, forcing a smile. “You will have to hurry, if you still want to make it in time.”

The law firm was a good ten minute walk away, and if Sansa’s calculation was correct Margaery only had about thirteen left.

Sansa ignored the way Margaery’s smile dimmed; along with the way her skin tingled after soft fingers had grazed over her own when taking the coat.

“Thank you, Sansa.”

Sansa managed a small smile. She had missed hearing the way Margaery said her name.

Damn it.

She had missed Margaery. Way more than was good for her.

“It was the least I could do.”

Even with the coat hanging around her shoulders and her purse in her hand, Margaery didn’t move. The conflict in her features was ever so evident and it reminded Sansa of the expression she got when considering an important ethical question in class.

Her dilemma here was an obvious one, she was running short on time, but also did not want to leave things as awkward as they were.

“I would like to thank you properly,” Margaery told her with another one of those untypical shy smiles. “Do you have time for a coffee later?”

Sansa would have loved to have a coffee with her; hear all about how the interview went and what she had been up to in the past weeks. She wanted to go back to spending time with her, to laughing with her. But because she wanted to so much, she couldn’t.

“Today’s really not a good day.” The moment she said it she knew she had worded it wrong.

“Tomorrow then?” Margaery smiled at her hopeful.

Sansa shook her head and opened her mouth to come up with another excuse, but Margaery interrupted her, taking a step towards her.

“I would love a chance for us to talk. I owe you an explanation.”

The ache in her chest, that Sansa had suppressed so very well, flared up like a wildfire.

The fact was she owed her several explanations; only Sansa was afraid to hear them.

“I need some time,” Sansa gave back firmly, even when she hated to be the reason for Margaery’s face to crumble in disappointment.

Maybe with some time, thinking about her would become bearable again. And then looking at her would not cause her heart to speed up anymore and send that mixture out of pain and endorphins straight through her chest.

She could only hope for that; for things going back to normal.

She wanted that. Wanted to forget all that had happened and just have things go back to normal.

She needed to forget what kissing her had felt like.

Above all, she needed to forget the humiliation she’d felt when Margaery had pushed her away gently; telling her she had a girlfriend.

“I understand,” Margaery said with a quick nod. “I really do.”

Much to Sansa’s dismay she didn’t move away though, but only came another step closer.

“Just… one more thing -and I understand if that doesn’t sway your decision or your need for time- but… I broke up with… me and …” She took a deep breath, regaining some firmness to her voice. “I am single now.”

Her eyes tore themselves away from studying the pattern of the carpet, looking up into Margaery’s.

Sansa frowned, sincerely thinking she had misheard. “Excuse me?”

“For about three weeks and two days now actually,” Margaery added, daring to give her a small smile.

“Really?”

In the three weeks and four days that had passed since their kiss Sansa had been so afraid of that everything leading up to it had just been in her head. That all the gentle smiles and the lingering touches, were nothing more than her own infatuation exaggerating Margaery being her friendly and affectionate self.

She had not dared to think that it wasn’t anymore.

Still didn’t trust the feeling entirely when Margaery sat next to her on the bed and reached for her hand.

“Really,” she confirmed, her thumb drawing gentle circles over the back of Sansa’s hand.

Warmth spread through her entire body as they sat there, holding hands, and Sansa found herself unable to hold back a smile; the fluttering returning to her stomach in the very best way when Margaery mirrored it.

“You’ll be late for your interview.”

Margaery didn’t move, but kept on holding her hand and smiling. “I’d make a lousy lawyer if I couldn’t come up with an excuse for that.”

[wormtitty]

Epiphany, part 2

tim/martin, 3.2k words, E-rating

read on AO3!

Something about Tim’s visit the other day bothered him. It was nagging at the back of his mind, squirming around like the worms that he keeps seeing out of the corner of his eye. Living in the archives was bad enough, Martin didn’t need the extra confusion, the added frustration that Tim’s impromptu drop-in had brought up.

So he had a crush on Jon. It wasn’t going to actually go anywhere; Jon was his boss. That’d be a huge HR violation. Probably. Either way, it wasn’t fair of Tim to just barge in and start interrogating him about who he liked, as if they were still in primary school. Especially not when he opened up a whole can of worms about his insecurities, even though it was kind of nice to affirm that at least one of his colleagues was still his friend.

Still though, he absolutely didn’t need to start throwing out names like he did. And from what he managed to infer from the conversation, Tim and Sasha had some sort of bet on his romantic life. And then he said - that.

“Dance card’s open.”

With a wink.

What was Martin supposed to do with that, exactly? Of course he’d noticed Tim’s flirting. But he flirted with everyone; Sasha, Jon, Kevin, even Rosie! Martin even saw him wink at Elias once, though he received such an intense glare in return that Tim had never tried again. So what were a couple of dirty jokes and glances every now and then between friends?

Oh god. Was Tim actually into him? Martin fretted over this for an admittedly considerable period of time before finally deciding to ask Tim himself. After all, didn’t he do the exact same thing to Martin not even a week ago? He drafted, the redrafted, text after text before finally just asking if Tim wanted to get drinks together that night, since it was Friday and neither of them had to actually work the next day. Although, he supposed, Martin did have to come back to the Institute. Because he lived there now.

Honestly, he wasn’t expecting the near-immediate confirmation text Tim sent. He’d expected the text to go unread until Monday, or for him to politely decline because he had company that evening. And why wouldn’t he? He’s Tim, the man with a body to die for and a personality that immediately drew one in. Okay, so maybe he was a little bit attracted to his friend. It was no big deal, because you’d be hard-pressed to find anyone in the greater London area that wasn’t at least a little in love with Timothy Stoker.

But Tim had responded, with an enthusiastic “Yes please!” that had Martin’s heart racing for totally normal reasons. With only a minimal amount of fumbling, they’d agreed to a time and place to meet. Martin resolutely did not spend the hours leading up to that fussing over his appearance. Tim knew his living situation, and hopefully wouldn’t be too put off by the outfit Martin put together from his measly selection of clothes he rescued from his flat. Surprisingly, he didn’t think to grab eveningwear in his rush to pack the essentials and get the hell out of there. Besides, it’s not like this was a date .

***

“Martin!” Tim exclaimed from the booth he’d claimed in the bar they’d chosen. He stood to give Martin a one-armed hug in greeting. If that sent him blushing, Tim thankfully didn’t comment on it. “Didn’t think you’d be the one to initiate this little meetup! These days, it’s usually me or Sasha that have to drag you out of the Institute for some fresh air. Or just to see other people that aren’t staff.” Tim said with a pointed look.

“Yeah, I mean, it’s not the easiest thing to not freak out in public every time I see a worm. Sometimes they’re real, but most of the time I’m afraid I’m imagining them.” Martin felt relieved at being able to admit that, if a little embarrassed. But Tim wore an expression that conveyed his understanding and blessedly changed the subject by ordering both of them a stiff pint.

“All work talk aside, what prompted you to call on me?” Tim inquired. “Not that I’m complaining, of course.”

“I actually wanted to, ah - I wanted to talk to you about something you said the other day.” Martin admitted to the table, suddenly fascinated in the grain of the wood. He began tracing a line with a finger.

“Oh, I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable, Martin. I was just having a bit of fun, a little curious about what had you so distracted, but that’s all. I’m sorry if it was out of line. I know we work together but you’re still my friend and I’d hate-”

“It’s not that!” Martin cut in. Looking up from his table when their drinks were delivered, he took a breath in attempt to calm his racing heart. “No, Tim, it wasn’t that. Well, it was, but about the other thing.” Tim seemed confused. “After. The second time.”

A look of realization crossed over his face. Martin’s own face seemed to be made of fire, so he busied himself by taking a deep drink from his pint. A slow grin started to unfurl from Tim’s lips.

“Martin, don’t tell me you texted me for a booty call ?” He beamed at Martin with a shit-eating grin.

“No! Tim, god, no!” Oh, he actually seemed a bit disappointed in that. “I mean, not that there’s no interest! Oh, would you please say something else before I embarrass myself even further? I didn’t ask to see you for a booty call, Tim. I just wanted to know what you meant?”

“What I meant by…” Trailing off, Tim took some time to remember what exactly it was that had confused Martin. Across the table, Martin was steadily draining his beer in an attempt to keep his mouth occupied and not talking. “Oh! The dance card thing?” He nodded. “That’s basically what it says on the tin, right? Dance card’s open, I’m open, get it?”

“Uhm,” Martin started again, “So you were, you were being serious?” Before Tim could answer, the waiter stopped by to collect their glasses and Martin mumbled his way through asking for a refill. When he looked back across the table, Tim looked utterly dumbfounded.

“Martin, I thought you knew! Christ, I’ve been dropping hints for what feels like forever. You really weren’t aware I was sincerely hitting on you?”

If it was possible, Martin’s cheeks coloured even deeper. “No? I thought you flirted with everyone! You’re always making eyes at our other colleagues, and two weeks ago you kissed Sasha’s cheek! Also, like, I’m me and you’re you .” He decided it was best to stop talking when Tim’s expression went from amused to vaguely pissed off the longer Martin tried to explain.

“Okay, one: I ‘make eyes’ at people I find attractive. In case you weren’t aware, that includes you too.” Martin tried to shrink into himself. “And two: I kissed Sasha’s cheek because she agreed to take one of my more frustrating cases and couldn’t give her a hug due to the files I was currently carrying. But that doesn’t mean anything.” Tim shrugged, “I just wanted you to know that if it was me you were acting all dreamy about, I’d really like you to act on that because I fancy you , as hard as that is for you to believe.”

Fixing his posture, as well as the no doubt dumbstruck look on his face, Martin cleared his throat. “Well. I, uh, thank you? I guess, same? I mean, ditto. I think I’d like to accept your dance card invitation, if you still have an opening?”

“Of course I do.” After that, they finished their drinks in companionable silence. The air was a little bit charged, a little heavy, and neither quite wanted to break the tension yet. Eventually, Tim called the waiter over and paid their tab. “So, what now?” he asked with a warm smile. “I think we’ve spent what time we want to here, but I don’t think I’m ready to let you go just yet. We could grab a late night bite to eat, or we could actually go dancing at one of the clubs around here? And there’s always my flat. I’m sure I can scrounge up something for a nightcap, if you’d like. Promise to be a perfect gentleman.”

With a groan, Martin politely declined both options of staying out later. Unfortunately, his body just isn’t quite as young as it used to be, and he’d never been much of a clubbing kind of guy.

Which is how the two of them ended up on opposite ends of Tim’s couch, each nursing a cup of tea that Tim insisted on making. Even they both knew Martin’s tea would have been far superior. They’d chatted idly about their childhoods (Tim’s was objectively happier), families, and other idle topics on the walk to the flat, but Martin was still mulling over the conversation that led them here.

“About your advice back in the archives, just out of curiosity, where do you think I stand firm, Tim? Not - not things that I can give people, right?” Tim set his empty mug on the coffee table while he mulled the question over in his head.

“Of course. I mean firstly, I think you’re incredibly brave. I would’ve quit the second that freaky worm lady let me go. But you’re still here, Martin. You’ve not thrown in the towel and found somewhere else to work, instead you stayed and kept researching even when I know you’re scared.” Martin looked as if he was about to interrupt. “I’m not done!” Tim said, shushing him with a finger to his lips.

“You’re also very kind. Now I know that making people tea is technically giving something, but you’re probably the only person I know that can make the perfect cup every time. And we never have to ask! You’ve always been great at conversation, ever since you started working at the institute. It can get pretty dreary in the archives, and I know all of us appreciate you being there to brighten it up a bit.”

By now, Martin was incredibly red-faced. He batted Tim’s hand away. “Are you done?” he asked, with a hint of trepidation in his voice.

“Nah, I also think you’re hot as hell.” Tim declared, smirking. Martin made a noise that was half squeak, half groan and put his head in his hands.

“I’d really like it if you’d shut up now, Tim,” he said, the words slightly muffled by his palms.

“Well, I’d really like it if you came over here and made me.”

Half scandalized and half intrigued, Martin carefully shuffled closer to Tim. They were almost knee to knee. Ever so slowly, Tim reached over and pried the mug from his hands. The gentle clink of ceramic on glass broke whatever spell that’d entranced them, and Martin lurched forward.

The kiss was slightly off center with the force of Martin’s body pressing Tim back against the arm of the couch. He angled his head more and, oh, that was so much better. Every sense of his was heightened with the slick slide of their lips. Tim was kissing back with just enough fervour, if not more. There was a hand in his hair and a fist curled in the front of his shirt, hauling Martin closer, closer, ever closer.

Tim let his legs fall further apart and Martin greedily scooted into the space left for him between his thighs. Tim was one hot line of heat plastered to his front, and he couldn’t get enough. He placed a hand on Tim’s jaw and deepened the kiss. With the first sweep of tongue across his lips, he desperately reined in the moan that threatened to spill out. It’s a good thing that they were already sitting down, because the things Tim did with his tongue made his legs feel like trembling jelly. He felt like a trembling mess, and they were only making out . He hoped Tim didn’t think he was too easy.

Trying to regain his composure and actively participate, Martin slid one hand down Tim’s chest. With a surprised noise, Tim’s hips stuttered upwards and his hand tightened almost painfully in Martin’s curls. This time, Martin couldn’t hold back a moan at the dual sensations. At least now he knew that Tim was just as affected as he was.

Martin leaned down to lave at Tim’s jawline, working his way down his throat and cataloging which spots caused a reaction. After that first bridge was crossed, neither of them could quite stop the slow grinding of their hips against each one another. One particularly sharp circle of his hips had Martin’s head hanging forward, lips brushing an earlobe as he let out a soft “Oh, Tim.”

Tim abruptly stopped his movements and gently pulled Martin up to meet his gaze. “Not that I’m not having an incredible time right now, but would you like to move somewhere a little more comfortable than this couch?” Martin gave an enthusiastic nod and climbed off his lap, gesturing at Tim to lead the way.

They eventually made it across the flat into Tim’s bedroom, making only one short detour so Tim could press Martin up against the wall and kiss him senseless. He wasn’t afraid to beg a little when Tim slid a thigh between his own and pressed up. “Tim, please, if you keep that up..” he trailed off and Tim relented, taking his hand until they made it to the bed and Martin was gently pushed backwards.

Tim took a moment to pull his shirt over his head before climbing after Martin, settling with his knees at either side of his waist, asking, “I’d like to take yours off too, if you’d like?” And God, he should not be allowed to look so debauched and sexy while asking something so politely. With a mumbled “yes, please,” Tim rucked up his shirt, sliding his hands up his chest as he went. Being pressed chest to chest sent a jolt of electricity down his spine, and he returned to Tim’s slightly swollen and shiny red lips.

After a few minutes of messy, heated kissing and aborted thrusts of hips, it became clear to Martin that Tim wasn’t going to be the one to escalate things any further. Reluctantly, Martin pulled away from the heat of his mouth. “I know I said that tonight wasn’t a booty call, but what would happen if I said I might like that?”

Tim smiled wickedly. “I would say something along the lines of ‘finally!’ and then do this.” With that, he slithered down Martin’s torso, stopping at his belt, where he was achingly hard in his pants. “That looks uncomfortable,” he mused, with a devious glint in his eyes. In no time at all Martins trousers were tossed off the side of the bed, and Tim was breathing hotly at the front of his pants. He wasn’t moving.

Martin tried to keep the whine out of his voice as he said “Feel free to continue any time.”

“Hmm. You’ll have to ask politely, Martin.” And oh, Tim was just pushing all the right buttons tonight. When Martin didn’t say anything in response, Tim’s mouth made contact with his briefs, wetting the fabric around his cock and applying a hint of friction.

“Okay, please, Tim, please!” Martin begged.

“Good boy,” Tim murmured as he pulled the pants all the way down and off. Martin tried his very best not to whimper at the praise. “God, look at you,” he breathed, gazing down at the now fully naked Martin in his bed. He squirmed uncomfortably on the sheets before Tim acquiesced and finally took the head of his cock into the wet heat of his mouth. Martin had always been sensitive, and this was no exception. He brought a fist up to his mouth to keep the choked-off sounds of pleasure in, but Tim pulled off with an admonishing look and tugged the hand away. “Come on, I want to hear you. Can’t you see how hot that is, how hard it makes me?”

Glancing down, Martin could see Tim shallowly thrusting his hips into the mattress, as if he was getting off on sucking him off. He let his head fall back and groaned, but kept his hands fisted in the sheets instead of covering his mouth. Satisfied, Tim returned to laving at Martins cock. He ran his lips and tongue all over, getting him wet before sucking his cock into the back of his mouth.

He kept at it, changing up the pressure and speed, all the while Martin was letting an almost constant stream of pleasured noises slip from his throat. He tentatively unfurled one hand from the sheets and placed it on Tim’s head, pulling gently. Tim moaned around his cock, and that was it, it was too much- “Tim, Tim I’m going to come if you don’t stop,” he panted.

With an obscene pop Tim pulled off and crawled back up to kiss Martin after sparing a second to wipe at his mouth. “Yeah, come on, come for me,” he slipped a hand around Martins wet cock and managed only a couple of strokes before he bit down on Tim’s lower lip with a grunt and came harder than he had in months . Tim kept kissing him and stroking him through it before slowing to a stop when his hips twitched away, oversensitive.

He came back to himself and kissed Tim back with renewed vigor. “Fuck, Tim, you’re incredible. Here, let me -” but before he could get his hand around Tim’s cock, he was groaning through his own orgasm and thrusting weakly against Martin’s hip. “Oh, okay. Hah, that works too, I guess.”

Looking not even the tiniest bit bashful, Tim smiled up at him. “Sorry, you were just really hot. Didn’t quite want to wait when I was so close .” He kissed Martin’s cheek, his nose, and finally his lips. “But the night is still young. You could always get me off during round two?” Martin groaned and buried his face in Tim’s messy hair.

“You’re severely underestimating how thoroughly you’ve worn me out.” Tim pulled back and stuck his tongue out at him before settling into a smirk. Martin pulled him down to kiss the smug look off his face. “However, after getting cleaned up a bit and a quick nap, I could be convinced to go again.” Tim hummed softly before pushing off the bed to grab a wet cloth. Martin couldn’t not watch him as he left.

***

Later, when they both were cleaned up and half-spooning on Tim’s large bed, Tim interrupted the sleepy silence by voicing something that had clearly been on his mind all night. “So it was me you were mooning over while we were heroically exterminating worms, then?

“Tim!” Martin slapped his arm. “Go to sleep please.” Muffling his laughter into Martin’s chest, Tim closed his eyes and did just that.

[mcfreakin-bxtch]

Death

Chapter One of “Secrets, Secrets”

Pairing: OC!Pedro Pascal x OC

Warnings: Dark elements (in later chapters), explicit!

Summary: Katherine ‘Kate’ Grey starts to spiral into the supernatural world after the death of a friend and a new neighbor next door.

Word Count: 2.5k

A/N: Okay this is purely because I got bored and wanted to try this out. I’m still working with it but this is a good start. 

(First one is not my pic!)

 The moon was shining over the city. Though it did not need the moon to light the way – the city lights took care of that – it still hung in the dark sky, bright and full.

It was still just as eerie and chilly. The wind whispering against skin, left over trash breezing by.

The man, Andy, was walking home, having to stay late to look after a patient. Knowing it was dangerous to walk alone on the streets, he debated on whether he should take the turn into the alleyway. It was one of the shortest ways to get to his apartment, but an uncomfortable feeling overcame him when he looked into the darkness that surrounded the area.

He didn’t have enough time to start walking the other way before he was pulled into the alley, mouth covered and slammed into the wall before he could comprehend what was happening. He only got one brief look at his attacker before he felt a deep pain in his neck. It was useless to struggle, the attacker was too strong.

The last thing Andy saw was a smirk, blood curling around it before darkness overtook him.

…

Kate gasped as she bolted up, clutching her chest. It was another restless night, and she could not remember what the dream (or dreams) were about. All’s she knew is that it terrified her. It seized her body with a tight coil, squeezing and squeezing until she felt like she couldn’t breathe… She didn’t realize her alarm was still blaring until her ears stopped ringing.  

Turning the alarm off her phone, Kate groaned as she stretched. Reveling in the cracks of her bones and feeling more alert now, she checked her phones for any messages as she made her way to her bathroom.

Kate grimaced at the reflection she found staring back at her. The dark circles under her light green eyes were more prominent today and her long, strawberry-blondish hair were sticking out like a crow’s nest. Pale ivory skin, slender curves hugged beneath oversized pajamas, and looking just about half dead. Sighing at herself, she quickly settled and changed into a simple t-shirt and black sweatpants. Today was one of her days off and she had every intention of taking full advantage of this rare opportunity; staying inside and doing practically nothing all day was a good way to go.

It was raining anyway, which wasn’t a surprise at all. Summer in the city was hot, but Kate didn’t mind it. She’d rather have the heat along with the storms than the harsh cold of winter. Going into her kitchen to brew some coffee – or what little of it she had left – she grabbed her tv remote from the coffee table and turned on the tv in her small but cozy living room. Flipping through the channels, she smiled as she saw there was nothing but old reruns of shows she barely had the luxury to sit through and enjoy. It was a good start.

Wrapping herself in a small blanket on the couch, Kate sipped her coffee as her eyes stayed glued to the tv. Being a young receptionist at the nearest hospital in New York City had its perks, but there were also those cons. As a child she never really had the ambitions to become a nurse or a receptionist of any kind, but as she got older Kate started to find herself leaning towards a medical profession rather than a writers. It didn’t mean Kate ever stopped writing though, she kept all her pieces in a binder on her nightstand by her bed.

Sometimes they would be poetry, other times documentaries of sorts; what happened in the world that day, what she did, felt, etc. It made her feel better at the end of the day, made her forget the horrors she saw at the hospital, even it was for a little while.

But there were other moments where Kate found herself awake in the middle of the night, pencil in hand and nothing but scribbles and nonsense on the pages sitting in her lap. Kate would be covered in sweat, feeling as though she had just ran a marathon, hair sticking to every inch of her body it could reach, and her heart would be beating straight out of her chest.  It worried her, and she would always debate on throwing them away after.

It was not always like this. Growing up, Katherine Elizabeth Grey was a very happy and free-spirited child who always received A’s and B’s in school and was quick to make friends. Her parents were always accepting and encouraging, even when she moved out from her small country – surrounded more by towering mountains than cornfields and cows – to the big city.

The nightmares and dreams, however, were a completely different story. When she was younger she wasn’t afraid of them, they were simply harmless in her naïve eyes. But when the most recurring one became more prominent in making her feel as if she had no control over her self and would leave her visibly frightened, Kate began to realize that maybe the dreams actually had a message to them that bled into her reality; not in the way that came from stress or memories, but in a way that it was completely new and a warning, or a summoning she wanted no parts of.

Never once did it ever change. It would start out in a pale, gray forest. It vaguely reminded her of home. The trees would be curled and curved, dead but somehow still thriving with life (Kate often felt that she was the one giving them life). Leaves would crunch silently under her feet on top the gravel that looked too smooth to her. No wind, no signs of life (life that Kate was familiar with at least), just nothing. There’d only be one trail through the forest, and she knew better than to tread off; everything behind her would turn to utter darkness, and she wasn’t ready to see what lurked in the shadows.

It would end with her standing in front of an arch way. Vines twirled and entwined along the loop of it, surrounding what remained of the gray light. There’s nothing but endless darkness inside.

Shuddering at the thoughts of it, Kate drew herself closer. A chill ran through the room, but she was quick to ignore it.

Her quiet and relaxing morning was suddenly shattered by a loud bang from next door. Kate frowned. Her neighbors had moved out of her apartment complex about a month ago. They were nice, but Kate loved having to deal with less people. She contemplated just tuning it out until there was another, a little louder than before.

With a huff and a string of grumbles, Kate decided to investigate. Besides, if she was to have new neighbors, she wanted to catch a good look at them. Opening her door, she peered to her left where all the commotion was coming from. There were a few small and big boxes laid out in front of the open door, not labeled but looking quite full and heavy. She was about to just step back inside her apartment when a man came out, eyes immediately finding hers.

He was quite handsome. Dark brown eyes that were immediately captivating – Kate was positive photos did not do them the justice they deserved – with wavy dark hair that ended just below his ears. His skin was a beautiful tan color, pale in some areas but still beautiful. He was wearing a black, long sleeve shirt that hugged his biceps – he wasn’t quite built but there were still muscles protruding – with simple blue jeans and plain sneakers. The smile he sent her made her knees weak and her heart flutter; she refused to let him see the effect he was having on her by just one smile.

“I apologize if I was being too loud,” he said.

His voice was rich and smooth as honey. She detected a small sign of an accent as he spoke but couldn’t place where it came from. There was also a hint of teasing in his apology, but Kate could tell it was all in good fun.

Kate cleared her throat once she realized he was still waiting for a response. “N-no you’re fine. I just wanted to make sure everything was okay,” she explained, suddenly shy now. “Sorry I bothered you!”

“You’re not a bother,” he called out, making her freeze mid turn. “So how do you like the city? I just moved out here for the first time so…”

Kate smiled politely at him, searching for words to say. She was too caught off guard.

“It’s not too bad,” she shrugged, leaning against the wall of her doorway. “I didn’t grow up here or anything, just moved here a few years ago actually.”

He hummed, crossing his arms. “Well maybe you could give me a tour one of these days? Show me the ropes.”

Kate felt her face flush. “Y-yeah maybe. I’m not sure I’m the best for tours but I’ll give it a shot.”

He grinned, showing perfect pearly teeth. “Oh, I’m sure you’ll be just fine. I’m Damien by the way. Rhodes.”

Damien Rhodes. It sounded odd to Kate as she played it back in her head, but she grinned back nevertheless.

“Katherine, but I go by Kate.”

“Kate,” he tasted on his tongue. She liked the way her name rolled off his tongue.

Before she could say something – Kate wasn’t sure what she was going to say after her awestruck – the ringtone of her phone started to blare from her living room.

Damien chuckled at Kate’s face; it was a mixture of daze and shock. “Well I’ll let you get that. It was nice meeting you, Kate. And, if you don’t mind me saying, I look forward to many more.”

Kate huffed out a breath with a playful smile. “Sure. We’ll see. Nice meeting you too, Damien!”

She heard him chuckle as she bounced back into her apartment, shutting the door behind her. Kate shook her head as she tried to clear her thoughts, running to her phone before it stopped ringing.

“Hello?” She gasped out.

“Hey, did you hear about Andy?”

It was one of her friends and coworkers, Abby. She was a quiet woman, dark blonde locks matched with a pair of wide hazel eyes. Kate had put in time to make her come out of her shell, and Abby had grown more comfortable and confident with herself since. She was also one of the first friends she made after moving.

“No, what happened?”

Andy was another coworker of theirs, a doctor beloved by many who knew of him. He wasn’t a bad man or anything, but Kate didn’t really pay much attention to him despite knowing of his attraction towards her. She had let him down as gently as she could and he surprisingly took it well, and they’ve been civil coworkers ever since. She had to stay late and help him with a patient – a child who was still recovering from a devasting car crash – last night, and he seemed like normal Andy to her, which she suspected is why her heart starting pounding in her chest; it felt like she was in another dream, and wondered if she would remember this moment come the next time she opened her eyes.

“He’s -.” Abby’s voice trembled.

“Abby, what happened?” Kate asked sternly.

“They found him. In an alley on the way to his apartment. Just left there, like… like he was just tossed away with the trash.”

Kate froze. Her chest tightened, short of oxygen as she tried to comprehend what she had just been told.

“No that’s not -.” Kate croaked, licking her dry lips. “I was with him last night. There’s just… do they know h-how?”

Abby let out a heavy sigh into the phone. “Well they’re kinda puzzled by it actually,” her voice was still trembling, but it seemed to calm the more she talked. “He was completely drained of blood, and there were no other signs of a struggle or any other injuries.”

Kate furrowed her brows in confusion, sitting down on the arm of her couch before her legs gave out from her.

“Drained of blood?” She said shockingly. “How is that even possible?”

“I don’t know. Listen I gotta go. I’ll let you know if I hear anything else.”

“Okay. Be careful.”

Kate stared at the screen of her phone. Dead. And she was one of the last people to see him. A new set of panic washed over her, palms growing sweaty.

Kate knew in the back of her head that there was no logical reason behind her panic; she knew she didn’t kill him and she had an alibi that would pass with cooperating witnesses and tapes.

So why did she feel like as if she did? Should she have walked home with him? Make him stay an extra hour? Make sure he was prepared for attacks?

There was nothing Kate could have done, and yet the responsibility of his death was still crushing her with its weight.

…

Kate felt dead on her feet as she trudged behind Andy, babbling away about a movie he was interested in seeing in theaters; she barely paid attention to the title of it.

“Anyways,” Andy continued mindlessly. “I’ll see you around.”

“Yeah, okay,” Kate mumbled. “Have a good night.”

“You too!” He called back as they went their separate ways.

Both Kate and Andy travelled either by cab, bus, or feet until they could afford a decent vehicle that would actually get them from point A to B; Kate especially had the worst of luck when it came to vehicles of all kinds.

Kate didn’t mind walking though, she had done plenty of hikes with her family before moving away. This night was a night like any other, streetlamps flickering as she walked by (upon remembering this Kate started to gape), barely a soul in sight on the streets.

It took only about twenty – thirty minutes for Kate to reach her apartment. She remembered getting out her keys to unlock the door and then…

…

Nothing. Kate didn’t even remember changing let alone managing to pass out in her bed. She closed her eyes tightly with a groan, feeling the developments of an unforgiving headache.

This was too much. What was supposed to be a relaxing day off turned into one of the worst days of her life, and more were to come.

Almost as if everything was working at clockwork, big, heavy knocks banged on her door, causing Kate to jump.

“C-coming.”

Kate cursed herself as she ran her fingers through her hair. She needed to calm down. Taking a shaky inhale, Kate opened the door to find two police officers.

“Katherine Grey?” The male asked.

“Yes,” Kate croaked.

“You’re not under arrest, but we need to ask you a few questions. About one of your coworkers, Andy Crumb.”

“I heard,” Kate had to clear her throat. “I’m more than happy to answer any of your questions. Please.”

Kate opened the door wider for the officers, who offered her polite smiles as they checked out her apartment.

Kate doesn’t know how or why the feeling suddenly came to her, but she suspected that Damien was standing at his door, smirking as he watched and listened as her life started to descend into madness.

  Tags: @scarlett-berserker​, @justlovetoreadfics​, @lil-baby27​, @mando-vibes​, @beepbeepyabitch, @that-void-witch​, @im-the-music-whore​, @certifiedhunter​, @outlawers​, @hejahockey​, @okaydacre​, @lemongrove​, @appreciating-chase-brody, @iwontforgettheapplepie, @mybabyboytony​, @olyamoriarty, @pcrushinnerd​, @elusive-ivory​, @dizzydazed​, @bluejeancntrygrl​, @our-mrlangdon, @snokesthrussy​, @evalynanne​, @purplewaterbird​

[annoyedfanfiction]

Security Chief

Pike x fem!reader (4)

You managed 7 hours and 28 minutes of sleep before you were once again woken by the door chime, and you managed not to knock over your armchair on the way to the door. Double win. You blinked against the corridor lights, vaguely registering Spock’s tall, lean figure through your sleep-slurred vision. “Spock, I thought I told you not to wander around on your own while the Captain is out,” you questioned, pulling your door open to let them in to your significantly darker room. “Lights, 40%.” “Nice to see you too, (Y/N).” Chris’ voice was husky and weak, but undeniably his. You spun back around to look at them more clearly, finding Spock standing behind the wheelchair Chris was seated in. “Chris!” you smiled, happily. “When did you wake up?” “An hour or so ago,” he answered, as you set about making tea. “I was told to ‘wait an hour or so help me god you will be back in this bed before you can say hi’. Apparently you had a long day yesterday, taking a planet singlehandedly.” “It wasn’t exactly a difficult negotiation.” You handed Spock a mug of Vulcan tea. “Except some also called a “Metron” came to tell us all off for having ‘violent intentions’ and tried to make me and the Gorn leader duel because we were ‘uncivilised’.” Your door chimed again, and you called for them to enter, revealing Michael. “Oh, hi Captain,” she inclined her head, politely, “I’m here for Spock.” Spock made to set down his mug of tea, a little reluctantly, but you waved it away. “If you like, you can take it with you,” you told him, easily. “Vulcan tea is hard to come by on predominantly-human space ships, it’d be a shame to waste it. Just bring back the mug when you get a chance.” He nodded, thanking you politely, and you earned a grateful smile from Michael, before the siblings disappeared from your quarters, leaving you and Chris alone.

“He proposed a duel and tried to call you uncivilised?” Chris questioned, thanking you for the mug of normal tea you handed him.  “Apparently violent impulses make us uncivilised, even if we don’t act on them.” You sipped your tea, rolling your eyes. “I’m glad I’m not a diplomat because I probably would’ve been less likely to tell him to fuck off if I was.” “Probably,” Chris agreed, laughing. The door chimed again, and you called enter, only for a flustered looking Hugh to stumble through. “(Y/N), the Captain– oh, fuck you,” he started, leaning back against the closed door in relief. “You can’t just disappear from medbay after being unconscious for three days!” “You didn’t tell him you were leaving?” you demanded, turning on Chris. “He said I couldn’t!” Chris defended, folding his arms. “Oh, that’s so much better,” you snapped, handing him your mug of tea as well, and beginning to push him towards the door. “The doctor said you shouldn’t leave medbay because you’re wounded, so you sneak out!” “I wanted to see you,” he complained, pouting. “Next time, don’t give me a heart attack, lover-boy,” Hugh commented, following the two of you back through the corridors. “What did you call me?” Chris questioned, defensively. “You heard me!” Hugh answered, defiantly, hooking him back up to the monitor. 

“Has there been some kind of medbay scandal I haven’t heard about?” you inquired, returning to the seat beside Chris’ bed you’d camped out in for three days. “Who’s lover-boy loving?” You ignored the pang in your chest as you asked and smirked instead. “What?” Hugh asked, incredulously. “You don’t know?” “I literally woke up twenty minutes ago when he and Spock came knocking,” you replied, defensively. “How am I meant to know?” “...you know, good point,” Hugh tried, lamely. “I’ll leave you two to it.” “Hugh?” you inquired, a little more dangerously. He waved, pulling the door shut behind him. “Well, that was fun. Sooo, who’s your medbay scandal then, Chris? I’m surprised, honestly, I always thought you had a thing for Una.” “Una?” he questioned, raising an eyebrow. “Well, Captain and First Officer, it kind of makes sense,” you shrugged, “You two spend so much time together, you know her almost as well as I do.” He laughed a little, but there was a hint of exasperation at its edge as he gestured for you to sit on the edge of the bed. “Una and I always have been and will be friends, (Y/N),” he pointed out, shaking his head. “You of all people must know that.” “Hey, I never said it was a requited thing,” you surrendered, holding your hands up, “I just thought you had a thing.” “Oof, good to know I’m not hot enough for your sister,” he teased, grinning. “I’m not sure it’s a hotness thing,” you laughed, completely blown away by the fact he’d not caught on. “You’re just a bit too...masculine to be her type.”

“Are you saying I’m hot, (Y/N)?” he asked, grin widening. “I’m not saying you’re not,” you hedged, leaning closer to where he was sitting. “There’s a slight issue with the hole in your chest at the moment.” You rested a pointed finger gently on the compress around his chest. “Way to kick a man when he’s down,” Chris complained, folding his arms. “I didn’t mean to get shot.” “It’s a good thing you’re handsome, honey,” you taunted, “Because you never did learn to shut that pretty mouth.” “Ha! So you do think I’m handsome,” he exclaimed, triumphantly. “Chris, even the lesbians on this ship think you’re handsome.” You rolled your eyes, shifting in to sit in your lean. “It’s more a fact than an opinion.” “You’re sending very mixed messages here,” he grumbled, without shifting the amusement from his eyes. “And you still haven’t told me who your medbay scandal is,” you responded, cheekily. “There wasn’t a medbay scandal,” Chris sighed, rolling his eyes. “Hugh’s just having a go.” “You sure got defensive over him ‘having a go’,” you pressed. “C’mon Chris, who’s the lucky girl?” He mumbled something unintelligible. “What was that?” “I said, it’s a more a question of whether I’m going to be a lucky guy,” he repeated, huffily.  “Oooh, so you haven’t asked her yet!” you snickered, happily, “This just gets better and better.” “You know, some people would consider it weird to talk about yourself in the third person,” Chris commented, offhandedly. “I mean, in Standard, it is a bit weird,” you answered, frowning. “Was that a weird attempt to throw me off the trail? I guess it depends. People do it sometimes as a hypothetic–oh.” You felt the heat rush to your cheeks and you looked back up to meet Chris’ eyes. “OH.” “Reassuring, thanks,” he said, flatly, but with no real heat. “So, uh, dinner or nah?” “How about breakfast?”