#this is self indulgent as all hell but. I did miss drawing them quite a bit

[syringaledraws]

Touchy clingy

Long time no jn sketchpile I suppose

[berylcups]

Yandere Files: Risotto x Reader

CW: creepy behavior , stalking, groping , period, alcohol, injury, blood, masturbation, face sitting

Notes: I decided to try to do things a little differently this time. I wanted to do a more of a creeper/pervert yandere. I hope it’s not too ooc it’s more self indulgent than anything! I hope you all can enjoy it 💜 Beryl

The hitman team had 10 members. They were all hand picked personally by Risotto Nero himself. He cares for them all deeply and would risk his life for them. He doesn’t play favorites… that’s what he tells himself. There’s one he’s particularly soft on, and it’s Y/N. They were AFAB. Normally Risotto would have some reservations about this type of person being a part of his group but they had a very gruesome stand.

It wasn’t well hidden that Risotto treated Y/N differently. He never really raised his voice at them, or scolded them outside of telling them not to overexert themselves. He always made sure they had a seat when there was a meeting, he wouldn't even start the meeting without them present. He always knew when his teammates were missing but with Y/N, he was hyper aware. If he didn’t know where they were he needed to know where they were exactly at that moment. Thankfully for him, Y/N lives on base.

The guys knew how obvious it was that he did more than favor them. He’s falling hard for them. They would never dare tease him about it but they definitely joke about it between each other. When has Risotto ever been attentive to the guy's comfort/needs?

“Formaggio, quit spreading your legs and move over so Y/N can sit down.”

“Hold on, someone is missing… Where is Y/N? In the bathroom? Are they okay? We will distribute the pay from the boss when Y/N is done.”

“Y/N. I told you countless times now - don’t overexert yourself. You kill the target but you also just end up exhausted. That’s not worth it. I can’t rest until you’re well again.”

———————————————————————

Risotto is always watching over you like a hawk. You though? You don’t really know that. He watches you while you sleep. You can’t see him because he’s using his stand ability to remain invisible. Also he’s gotten pretty good at syncing his breaths with yours so when you do wake up feeling like you’re being watched you’ll just assume you’re being paranoid again. This place is probably haunted after how many people died in the basement…but we don’t think about that when we are trying to fall back asleep.

When you’re not at the base he sometimes follows you to make sure you’re safe. Napoli isn’t safe at night. He doesn’t really like it when you go out to the bar or the club all alone. Even if some of the guys accompanied you he knows they will be too distracted by the other singles there or watching football to notice you’re getting hit on by a stranger shooting their shot. Unfortunately for that person flirting with you is the last thing they’ll ever do. Their last thoughts were how in the hell a pair of scissors ended up inside their neck.

He makes sure you get home okay. He always seems to be around when you’re ready to leave the bar/club. He drives your heavily drunk ass back to the base and gets you to bed. You pass out cold almost immediately after you hit that pillow. Watching you be that vulnerable is giving him dark thoughts. He just wants to be inside you so badly but… he holds himself back. It’s frustrating him so bad that he’s biting his lip hard enough to draw blood. Maybe he can compromise by getting a view of your bare chest. Regardless of the size of your breast or if you don’t have any his whole hand can nearly cover the entirety of one. Feeling the soft flesh in his hand is causing a wet spot to form in the strained crotch of his pants. His cock is weeping for stimulation. Whether you have them or not, he thinks you’d look amazing with nipple piercings and would want to do them himself for you.

He’s always there when you have a cut. When ever you’re chopping up vegetables or using a box cutter to open a package he manipulates the magnetic pull to get you to accidentally cut yourself. He wants an excuse to be there to touch you and to mend your wounds. He doesn’t look like it but if you’re shaken up about the accident he’ll be there to emotionally support you.

“Just breathe slowly Y/N. It’s just an accident. It’s okay. Everything will be okay. I know it’s a lot of blood but you didn’t cut any of your major veins or arteries. You're safe, I won’t let you bleed out.”

Speaking of blood, he’s very supportive of you during your period when most of the guys would cringe and scurry away. He uses his stand to help make your period flow easier. He uses his big warm hand to rub your lower stomach for you and the cramps ease up quickly. But the minute you pull away to do something the cramps come back immediately. It looks like you’re stuck with him rubbing on your stomach for the remainder of the day but he doesn’t seem to be bothered in the slightest.

When you two have missions they are usually separate due to the nature of your stands but he always insists on driving you to yours since it’s always on the way. He put your music on as long as it’s compatible with his tastes(can you imagine him listening to Brittany Spears? oh my lort) as you drift off to sleep on the long ride he’ll rest his hand on your inner thigh and squeeze it a bit. You're so sleepy that you don’t register it and even if you did, do you really care? It’s hard to tell what’s real and what’s a dream when you’re drifting in and out of sleep.

The walls of this shitty building are ridiculously thin. You can hear full conversations 3 rooms over, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t have its perks. Your room is right next to his office so he can hear everything you’re doing. He can hear all the phone conversations you’re having. You’re unknowingly just letting all your secrets spill out that was just meant for the ears of your closest friends. Now he knows more ways to get closer to you. And his most favorite thing to learn about you is, your sexual appetite. He can hear the type of porn you’re watching on your computer, the low hum of your vibrator, and your sweet moans. He can’t help but feverishly stroke his cock in his office to your voice. He just wants to imagine you making those sounds as he’s buried deep inside you. He wants to see your stomach bulging every time he thrusts in and makes you cry from how full you are.

You’d think they’d be too poor but having their own washer and dryer is a must for assassins. You can’t exactly take bloody clothes to get cleaned at the local laundromat. You take good care of your clothes and not lose them getting mixed in with the other guy’s clothes but your underwear seems to disappear into thin air. You have a feeling one of the perverted teammates may have taken them. You confront the team about it and air your frustration but not one of them has any idea what you’re talking about!

“Don’t play dumb! I know one of you creeps did it! Now fess up and tell which one of you took my panties!” You hissed.

“ steal your underwear are you kidding me?! We wouldn’t dare!” Illuso retorts.

“Yeah! especially since Risotto got the hot-ow!” Formaggio blurted out before getting interrupted with a punch to the side by Prosciutto. “What the hell man? That hurt!”

“Now Y/N, you need to take some responsibility and accept the fact that you just lost your clothes rather than childishly blaming it on us. You’re __ years old now, act like it.” Scolded Prosciutto.

While you were arguing with the rest of the team, Risotto is furiously stroking his cock in the bathroom while deeply inhaling the musky natural scent from your used panties. He’s thinking very intently about you sitting on his face as he eats out and suffocates in your wet cunt.

Things are just escalating and he can’t seem to hold himself back anymore. He needs to come clean to you and make you his whether you want to or not. He’s going to want you to meet him in his office and he silently locks the door behind you.

“Y/N…We have known each other for a long while now. I know I’m supposed to be your leader and keep it professional but… You’re all I think about. I always think about holding you, kissing you, touching you, making love to you, breeding you. I need you to be mine. For good.”

Whether you accept his feelings or not you’re like a deer in headlights and let him lean in to kiss you deeply. He was going to take what’s his and that’s you. Get ready to have your back blown out by this behemoth of a man because he likes it slow and hard. But don’t worry he’ll treat you like the monarch that you are!

[cellophaine]

Home With You

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Reader

Word Count: 3003

Warnings: None.

Author's Note: I figured I should give you guys a break from my smutty contents lol. And I just wanted to write an indulgent fluff piece.

As always, every likes, comments, reblogs, feedbacks and ask submissions are greatly appreciated! My heart goes into cha-cha-cha mode whenever I receive notifications from you guys (it's a happy mode)

Prompt requested by: Anonyomous (love you anon <3)

------

"Matt?!"

You called out as you walked into his apartment; the exhaustion crept into your voice. His name echoed back to you in the empty place, a tell-tale sign of Matt's absence. You huffed out a frustrated sigh as you stepped out of your heels, padding into the living room on bare feet, much to your relief. You dropped your briefcase to the floor with abandon, planting face-first onto the couch, releasing another weary sigh. This was the third night in a row you missed him on his way out, but it was nothing out of the ordinary. At this point, it had become a regular occurrence. You felt like you barely saw him as of late. All you had was the little time in the mornings with Matt's body wrapped around yours in the bed. And it wasn't enough. How could it be?

Your workload as a paralegal at Hogarth, Chao & Benowitz had picked up in the past few months. The pay was more than decent, but it resulted in more time assisting Jeri Hogarth in cases and less time spending with your boyfriend. The immense amount of guilt you felt kept building up, as you knew Matt was not happy about your situation, but he always knew what to say to make you feel better. You had spent time running around New York for researches, staying late at the office at Hogarth's requests.

The days would always end with you worn out to the bones. Matt hated how the job was clawing at you, chipping away a piece of you every day, leaving you stressed out and exhausted. But he was supportive anyway, understanding that it was your choice in the matter. And so, Matt was the only constant, comforting source in your life. He would be there every time you woke up, cuddling and kissing you, making sure that you had all your meals throughout the day, taking care of you when you couldn't do it yourself.

You dragged your enervated self into the shower, lathering yourself up with Matt's shampoo and body, indulging in his scent under the hot water. The clean smell of his soap in the shower steam helped relieve the ache of missing him in your chest. You had slept over his apartment every night. Still, ironic enough, you felt like you drifted away further from him, not of your own volition. Matt was the anchor that kept you close, but how long would it last? How long would he be willing to stay?

You patted yourself dry, walking into his bedroom, the air cool on your exposed skin. You opened the closet, pulling out a sweatshirt of his. You hugged it close to your chest, dropping your head low to inhale the smell of him. You pulled the shirt on along with his too-big sweatpants, tightening the strings at the waistband. You put on his socks, too, tucking them over the hems of the sweats, just like how he always did it. A habit of his that you had absorbed. A bittersweet thought struck you. Despite being in his apartment, often living in his space more than your own, you wore his clothes just to feel closer to him. He was close but never close enough.

You found your way to the couch again, plopping your head on the pillow. You curled into yourself, settling in a comfortable position. You didn't bother with dinner, for you craved something else. You just wanted him here. You wanted to spend every second you could get with him to make up for the time you had missed. You tried to stay up, waiting for him to come back. But the toll of the day pulled on your eyelids, luring you into sleep with much resistance from you.

A weightless feeling woke you from your sleep. You blinked sleepily; your hazy vision revealed Matt, still in his Daredevil suit, the helmet was nowhere in sight. His unseeing eyes radiated the comfort and affection you loved, and you hummed happily at the blessed sight of him. A smile pulled on the corner of Matt's lips as he laid you down on the bed, pulling the soft blanket over you. He brushed your hair off your eyes before leaning in, pressing a lingering kiss on your forehead. You smiled sleepily at his gesture, tilting your face up as his warmth left your skin. Your lips met his halfway, and you sighed into the kiss that you craved with the entirety of your being. You needed this, needed him; you yearned for him. Your hand found its way to him; his light stubble tickled your fingertips. You caressed his face, needing to touch, to feel him, as the kiss grew heavy. Finally, he pulled back from you with much reluctance, within your reach, just enough so you could hear his whisper.

"Have you had dinner? I left you your favourite in the fridge."

You pressed your head into the pillow before shaking your head, along with a muffled confirmation of his suspicion. His brows furrowed, and you quickly pulled on his jaw, drawing him closer. You resumed the kiss, and once again, Matt was the one who broke away. Lowering your voice in a soothing tone, you asked in the hope of distracting him.

"Do you have any injuries that needed to be looked at?"

"It was a pretty uneventful night. I know what you're doing, and it's not working."

He responded at once; his head shook slightly in disapproval. He knew you too well. You knew that. But you didn't want to get up while all you wanted was to bask in his familiarity, his warmth again.

"I had a very long day. I just want to go back to sleep, with you. Please?"

Your desperate plea tugged at his heart. His eyes softened as he pressed a chaste kiss to your lips.

"Alright. But you will have a big breakfast, first thing when you get up."

You bit your lip, brows waggling at him, even though you knew he couldn't see that. A playful, suggestive tone glided into your voice.

"Oh, I definitely would like something 'big' for breakfast."

He let out a small laugh at your terrible tease.

"I'm serious. I was gone for a few hours, and you already neglected yourself."

"I promise. I'll be yours for the entire weekend. Now, can you get your ass in this bed, preferably naked? Pretty please."

He chuckled, standing up to pull his protective gear off. A few rustles later, the mattress dipped as Matt climbed into the bed behind you. He pulled you into his chest, pressing butterfly kisses on your hair. You turned onto your back, giving him easier access to your lips. He eagerly took you on your offer, pulling you in for a soft kiss, so soft that it made you melt into his embrace. He moved to kiss your cheeks, making his way to your eyelids, ending the kiss on your forehead.

"Sleep now, sweetheart. I'll be here when you wake up."

You turned to your side to cuddle into him, curling your hand behind his muscular back. You nuzzled your face into his firm chest, kissing and nibbling sleepily on the naked skin. You fell asleep promptly, grateful for the weekend ahead of you.

Your phone buzzed again and again on Matt's bedside table. You groaned, burrowing your face further into Matt's chest. The faint scent of blood and sweat, of Matt, infiltrated your senses through a daze. However, whoever on the other side stayed persistent; calls came in after calls. Finally, you untangled your limbs from Matt's with frustration, answering the call to hear Hogarth's voice on the other side.

"Where the fuck are you? Why didn't you pick up your damn phone?"

"It's… it's the weekend."

"And? This case won't go away itself. Come in now, or you're fired."

Your ears met with the dead tone from the other line. You fell back onto the warm bed, feeling like you could burst into tears. Pressing your face into the pillow, you muffled a silent scream. Matt propped on his elbow, caressing your back with the other hand.

"Stay here. Quit the job. You deserve so much better than how Hogarth's treating you."

You murmured.

"I can't. Her words have weight. She can really help me with my career. The pay isn't bad either."

"I know, but it's not worth it. I don't like seeing you bend over backward to every of her demand. I can feel your exhaustion every night. I hate seeing you so harrowed and stressed out."

You sighed heavily.

"It's not like I can quit right away. Not until I can secure a better job somewhere else. Rent in Hell's Kitchen is crazy. Until then, I'm stuck with her."

You moved around in the place, talking to Matt as you got ready. When you stepped out of the bathroom into the living room, dressed in your work attire, Matt walked over to where you stood, offering you a cup of tea. You smiled sadly at him, stroking his cheeks. Then, you raised on your tiptoe, kissing him swiftly before picking up your briefcase, making your way to the door.

"I'm sorry, I can't drink the tea. I'm already late. I'll see you later tonight?"

Matt fell into silence; his head turned away from your direction. The mugs of tea in his hands stayed still and abandoned. You felt an awful jerk on your heartstring for leaving him like this. You spoke softly.

"I love you."

One moment of silence, then two. Matt reluctantly spoke, his voice small, barely audible.

"Love you, too."

You gnawed on your bottom lip in defeat, walking out the door. Your heart grew heavier with every step you took, carrying you further away from him.

When the elevator opened, you were working at your desk, just outside of Hogarth's office. You looked up just in time as the infamous P.I of Hell's Kitchen walked past your desk, sparing a glance towards you. You sprang up from your seat, running after her.

"Ms. Jones, I'm sorry, but you can't go in there. Unfortunately, Ms. Hogarth is not available at the moment."

Jones reeked of alcohol, but there was no sign of intoxication. She scoffed.

"I don't care if she's fucking another secretary in there. Step aside. I don't want to hurt you."

You stood in her path, taking your stance. Although preventing Jessica Jones from entering your boss' office wasn't your job, Hogarth made you do it anyway. She made you do many things that went beyond your responsibilities as a paralegal, as she always held her power over your head like an invisible sword, readied to strike at any given time.

Jessica rolled her eyes, sidestepping you. You stuck your foot out in her path, making her boot catch on your heel. She stumbled lightly, whirling around to face you.

"Seriously?"

You swallowed, shrugging.

"A girl's gotta do what she's gotta do."

"Maybe that girl should get another job and stop working for that monster."

Jessica quickened her pace, pushing the door open as you chased after her.

"I'm sorry, Ms. Hogarth, but she …."

"… tired of your shit, Hogarth. What the fuck is wrong with you?"

Jessica gritted out the words. Your boss sent a deathly glare at you.

"Leave us."

She flicked a wrist at you, and you closed the door behind you as fast as you could. You went back to your desk, speeding through your mountain of paperwork. About half an hour later, Jessica walked out with a menacing expression on her face, heading straight for the elevator. Jeri walked out about two minutes later, looming over your desk.

"If that happens again, I will personally destroy your little, pathetic career. You hear me?"

You nodded solemnly.

"Have them on my desk before 5."

Hogarth left you alone for the rest of your time there. You were done with the work at a little over 3 PM. You dropped it off, and it was refreshing to see a surprise expression on her face for once instead of the usual scowl you received. Then, you headed straight for Matt's place, couldn't wait to get back to your boyfriend, despite the little not-an-argument you had earlier that day.

He wasn't home when you got there. You sighed, afraid you had messed things up with him. After changing into something more comfortable, you sat down on Matt's kitchen table with your laptop open and a steamy plate of food Matt left you last night. You sat there, your fingers tapping away on your device for what felt like hours until you heard the sound of the door being opened. Matt walked in, dressed in his usual gym clothes with a duffle bag hanging off his shoulder. His face was flushed, his hair stuck out adorably. You stood up, lingering at the chair. You cleared your throat.

"I'm… sorry for this morning. Are we … okay?"

You ached to hug him, to be gathered into his arms, to kiss him. Your bottom lip trembled slightly. You wouldn't know what to do if he said no.

He could sense your uncertainty with every word. His face softened at your vulnerable disposition, his arms opened wide, dropping his cane and bag to the floor with little care.

"Of course we are."

You lunged into his embrace, holding him tight as he picked you up easily, his face buried in the crook of your neck. You found his lips, pouring your heart and soul into the kiss. Eventually, you pulled away from each other as you gasped for air, your foreheads touching.

Matt lowered you down to the ground, still holding you in his arms, his hand caressing your spine in a soothing motion.

"I'm looking up other jobs. Hogarth is … horrible, and I'm always stressed out. You're right. It's not worth it."

"You know … Nelson & Murdock can use a helping hand."

Matt raised his brow at you; an endearing grin pulled at the corner of his lips. You smacked his chest playfully.

"As if I'm not helping you guys in my free time already."

You trailed a finger from the waistband of his sweats, ghosting over his abdomen and chest, ended your way at the pulse on his neck, stroking the delicate arc of his throat. Matt let out a small groan of pleasure.

"That means you already have an in with the firm."

You squinted your eyes at Matt while he feigned innocence.

"Are you serious?"

"Yes. I would love to have you there. We still have to discuss this with Foggy, but I think he'd be thrilled."

The earnestness in his voice was unconcealed. Working for Matt and Foggy was a tempting proposal, but you wanted to give it some thought first.

"Let me think about it."

The week started anew, with another visit from Jessica Jones. Only this time, you didn't cease your work pace, even as she walked past your desk. Jessica halted, looking at you skeptically.

"Why are you not stopping me right now? Did Hogarth call of her little guard dog?"

You looked up from your computer screen, giving her a nonchalant shrug.

"Nah, the order is still in effect. But I don't care."

The P.I gave you a nod and headed for Hogarth's office.

Before the workday ended, you were summoned by your fuming boss. Hogarth stood at her desk, a glass of whiskey clutched tight in her hand. She looked upon your entry, sneering at you.

"What part of preventing Jessica Jones from entering my office that you didn't understand? Do you —"

"I understand. I just don't care."

You dropped off the folder on Hogarth's desk. She narrowed her eyes at the manila envelope.

"This is my letter of resignation. I quit. I would say it was an honour to work with you, but that would be a lie."

You left the office that day feeling so much better than you had felt in months. There was a spring in your steps as you climbed the stairs to Matt's place. You walked in as an aroma of mouthwatering food being cooked engulfed you, welcoming you home. Matt was in the kitchen, facing the stove. You walked up behind him, wrapping your arms around his torso. Matt lifted an arm over your shoulder, pulling you in to kiss your forehead. Then, he turned off the stove, fully angled his body to you and gave you a warm embrace.

"So you did it? How did she take it?"

"She was furious, Matt. She threatened to make sure I could never practice law ever again. Over and over. But I'm not worried. She can threaten me however she wants. I know the law."

"I'm so proud of you, sweetheart. You're better off without her. And if she dared to do that, you wouldn't be alone. Foggy and I will have your back."

You hugged him even tighter, pressing your ear to the steady rhythm of his heart. You stayed like that for a moment as the sound of Hell's Kitchen played in the background. Matt buried his nose into your hair, peppering your face with kisses. Then, at last, he spoke up.

"So, have you given more thoughts on working for Nelson & Murdock?"

You made a tsk sound, tapping a finger against your lips, pretending to be in deep thoughts.

"I don't know. Wouldn't it make quite a scandal since I'm dating one of the bosses?"

"Considering the other boss already knows about the arrangement, no one else has to. We can keep a secret -"

Matt dipped his head; his lips brushed over the curve of your ear purposefully. The mere contact sent a shiver down your spine in anticipation. Finally, he released the last part of his sentence; his voice dropped dangerously low, dripped in an alluring invitation.

"- and have fun with it."

[pascalpanic]

Caffeine Rush: Chapter Seven / Decaf

W/C: 4k

Warnings: language, dirty thoughts, all of the dirty thoughts because Javi is a horndog, male masturbation... general spice. pining that could make a pine cone tremble.

A/N: welcome to pining central, enjoy your stay :) (ps when Steve says “Javier Peña” I need you to read that in the voice of Anthony Mackie going “SEBASTIAN STAN”)

Previous Chapter || Next Chapter || Masterlist

ordinary coffee that has had most of its caffeine removed from it before the beans are roasted.

You are a goddamn test on Javier’s self control. He feels like those biblical stories of men fighting back against temptation to prove themselves to God, except the only thing he has to prove is to himself. To you.

He’s always been enraptured by you, captivated by your smile and laugh but since you went ice skating, he hasn’t been able to get your body out of his mind. The way you fell asleep on him last night, nuzzled in like it was the safest place on earth. He could feel your breasts press into his skin, the warmth of your thigh hiked across his abdomen. If the past week has been some caffeine-induced fever dream, it’s becoming real now. You, a figment of his imagination before, maybe, are all flesh and blood and God, is he desperate for it.

Javier hangs around your apartment when you’re gone at work. He doesn’t have much else to do, considering you’re gone and he knows hardly anything about the city. He watches the daytime television on your couch, usually meanders to the coffee shop for a drink, spends some time there, and returns to the apartment.

He feels like he’s couch-surfing, like he did for a summer in his college years. He feels guilty occupying the space in your home, especially without payment. As he walks to the bathroom, he takes a long glance into your bedroom. The queen-sized bed is mussed, unmade before you left for work. The fitted sheet is pooled in the middle beneath where you sleep, the various blankets tossed about. It looks like the coziest damn thing he’s ever seen, especially after a couple of nights on a couch.

Javier almost thinks about giving in, waiting for you to ask him to sleep in your bed tonight then jumping at the chance. Maybe he will, if he’s tired enough. Maybe he won’t, but maybe he will. He can think of nothing better than the endless whir of the radiator as your perpetually-cold body nuzzles against him, brushes your nose against his bare chest.

It’s been a long time since Javi has fucked anyone, and he’s starting to feel it. He’s a little antsy, and the image of your body, your ass as you ice skate past him, haunts him like a bad dream- or rather some illicit fantasy he knows he shouldn’t be having.

Would you want him yet? You’ve told him you love him, but that was an accident. When he kisses you, you kiss back harder. Hell, you initiated the first kiss. You seem like you’ve been all-in on this relationship, taking things at a rushed pace that Javier certainly doesn’t mind. He spends a lot of the day contemplating that, standing on the tiny balcony of your apartment and smoking a couple of cigarettes.

At this point, he needs a distraction or he’s going to have to take matters into his own hands, quite literally. What better to kill the horny buzz making his head spin than to call Murphy?

The phone is in your bedroom, on the nightstand. Javier dares to sit on the edge of your bed, and actually moans aloud at the plush comfort, the way his ass sinks into it. Goddamn, he’ll have to get one of these. He wants nothing more than to lay back and fall into the bed, wait for you to get home and pound you into the comfortable mattress. But he doesn’t. He stays strong and picks up the phone, dialing the new Murphy residence in Miami.

After a couple of rings, a familiar voice answers. “Murphy’s.”

“Hey, bastard,” Javier chuckles, and he can hear the blonde man’s laughter from across the receiver.

“Javier Peña,” Steve drawls, dragging out the name. “Good to hear your voice, man. You finally come out of a ten-day celebratory drunkenness?”

“Don’t talk to me about binges,” Javier teases, but he smiles a little. He’s missed the man. He’s glad neither of them got in any trouble over the entire Los Pepes situation- God, that feels like ages ago now. It’s hard to believe he’s only been in D.C. what, eleven days? If Steve’s math is right, yeah. “No. I’m in D.C. still, if you can believe it. Just… bored.”

“Oh really?” the man scoffs, leaning against his kitchen counter in Miami with Olivia on his hip. “And why’s that? What are you still doin’ up there anyway? Thought you were goin’ to visit the old man.”

Javier shakes his head. “Plans changed. There’s, uh… there’s a girl.”

Steve lets out a wolf whistle, laughing. “And how much does she charge a night?”

“Not one of those. She works at a coffee shop around here,” he informs him. “She’s… she’s really something. Nothing I ever thought I’d be into. She’s gorgeous, man, and so energetic all the damn time. Seems like she has an IV of coffee from her shop,” he chuckles, looking off into space. He takes a pause. Steve doesn’t speak. “I wanna be with her Steve. I don’t… I don’t know if I can go back.”

He’s silent a little longer. “This is some kind of practical joke, right?” Steve says after a beat, barely holding back a laugh. Never has Javier been so sincere, so real and honest and open. And more specifically, he’s never been like this over a girl. Almost… mushy. Soft. “Tell me more,” he says, hoping the joke will give up.

Javier talks about you, describing every little detail with a grin on his face. He tells Steve about Tie Guy and ice skating and your piece of shit car, how you can spin in circles on the ice and how you remind him of a busy little bee, fluttering about the coffee shop.

Steve is genuinely rendered speechless; a hard thing to do. He blinks down at Olivia then straight ahead at the refrigerator, covered in photos and magnets and drawings. He can’t imagine Javier ever wanting something like this, like what he and Connie have, but he sure sounds like it. “That’s… something. Good for you, Javi,” Steve chuckles, resigning to sincerity. “I’m happy for you.”

Javier grumbles back. “Don’t get too happy. I have to go back to Calí in three weeks. She doesn’t want me to leave… I don’t know what to do, Murph. I can’t bring her with, you know that, but I can’t just leave her here. And I sure as hell can’t quit.”

“You could quit.”

“I’m not going to, how’s that?” Javier huffs and crosses his arms, annoyed by Steve and his goddamn wording loopholes. “I just… fuck. I’m gonna go think about it before she gets back.”

“She comin’ to your hotel? You sure you aren’t paying per night?” He smirks.

Javier’s quiet and Steve isn’t sure what it means until he talks. “I’m, uh, staying at her place. She insisted.”

Steve whistles again. “Damn. You’re whipped, Peña. Well, I’ll let you go. Call again soon. I miss ya, bud,” he tells Javier in a moment of earnesty then hangs the phone back on the receiver, bringing Olivia to her nursery to change her diaper.

Javi sighs and falls backwards on the bed, admiring the way the mattress holds his body compared to the couch. Yeah, he’ll definitely need to sleep in here tonight or he’s going to crack his spine.

The issue will be you. He could handle it on the couch; it was like a soft, adolescent form of love, innocent and warm. Of course, it could still be the same in your bed. But would it? Is there not a different set of implications that come with the two of you sharing a bed?

Snuggling with you on the couch was nice. Wonderful, perfect even. Javier loves falling asleep with you in his arms. But in your bed, arms curled around him, maybe even being his little spoon… that perfect body pressed flush to his own, your soft ass against his groin, your breathing pushing back into his chest… that would be an entirely different thing. And he wants it, he really does, but he isn’t sure he’ll be able to control himself.

He slept like shit the last night, to be honest. You on top of him prevented him from moving, and Javier is an active sleeper. His neck was at an odd angle and his back twisted. His body feels like it did after that fight with Tie Guy. He can’t- wouldn’t- invade your privacy of your bed without you home to give him the go ahead, but he’s so damn tired. Not even the coffee helps.

So Javier indulges in one of life’s little pleasures he rarely gets to experience: a nap. Curled up on his side on the couch, blankets pulled snug around his fetal-positioned body, Javier drifts off to the sound of the noon news on the television.

That’s how you find him when you come home. He’s peacefully asleep, his lips parted and mustache moving with his exhales. Well, he’s clearly alive. That’s good.

You’re not sure how long he’s been asleep, so you leave him, making yourself something to eat in the kitchen. You avoid the living room as you get settled in, changing out of your espresso-stained clothing and into something more comfortable.

When you’re all comfy, makeup removed and a warm sweater on, you sit at the other end of the couch. Javier’s curled into a ball, his feet just inches away from your legs. You hope when he moves, he’ll feel you there and wake. If not, oh well. He deserves the rest.

It’s gray and cloudy outside, and you snuggle into the corner of the couch while reading your worn copy of The Great Gatsby. It’s the one you’ve been re-reading recently, what you were reading that first day Javi wandered into your coffee shop and subsequently your life.

Javi wakes not long later, maybe half an hour, to the sound of your book crinkling. The paperback’s spine crunches with wear, and his eyes flutter open to see you tucked against a pillow. God, you look like an angel, the light from the cloudy day filtering in and illuminating you from the back. Your face is calm and peaceful, focused as your eyes trace the words of F. Scott Fitzgerald. “Hi,” Javier mumbles groggily.

Your expression turns to a smile and you set down the book. “Hey.” You take his legs and drape them across your lap, tracing your fingers across them. “How’d you sleep?”

He groans. “Okay. Neck hurts.”

“That wouldn’t be an issue if you’d just sleep with me,” you sing-song to him, stroking his legs through the comfortable pants he wears. “My bed is super cozy.”

God, does Javier know it. It felt like your love itself when he laid down and the warmth of it swallowed him, practically whole. “Maybe I’ll give in,” he sighs, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands. “How was work? Sorry I didn’t visit.”

“Boring as always,” you chuckle. “What did you do today?”

Javi frowns as he thinks about it, his brain fogged with sleep. “Not much. Called Murphy, talked a while. He’s doing good.”

“Good,” you nod and smile. “When will I get to meet this elusive Steve?” You ask, softly kneading at his legs through the blanket and frowning as you realize he’s wearing… jeans. “Wait, pause. Are you seriously wearing jeans?” you ask him and laugh, lifting the blanket to confirm what you already suspected.

He frowns defensively, crossing his arms. “Maybe.”

“Why the fuck would you take a nap in jeans, Javi?” You laugh.

Javier looks away, frowning. The stubbornness shows. “I don’t own many comfortable clothes besides what I wear to work, if you haven’t noticed,” he retorts, but you can’t help but giggle. “Plus I thought I’d only be here to get fired.”

You smile at him lovingly and cup his face. “You sweet, stupid workaholic. Let’s go shopping later, get you some cozy stuff.”

Javier warms against your touch but maintains a pout. “I like jeans.”

Rolling your eyes, you huff out a laugh. “Would a pair of sweatpants be detrimental to your wardrobe, Javier?”

“Stop using big words,” he groans. “I’m barely awake.”

-

The large mall is annoying to Javier, full to the brim with last-minute (or maybe prepared, he never holiday-purchases) shoppers. He holds your hand, shooting feisty glares at anyone that dares to bump against his or, god forbid, your side. “Relax,” you tease and squeeze his free hand. The other carries a bag containing two hoodies, three t-shirts, and two pairs of sweatpants. “You’re not on a mission, and you certainly don’t have the knuckles to pitch another fight.”

He looks at his hands and scowls. You’re right. They’re no longer black and blue but faded yellows and greens, a spare bit of purple over the bones. The fight wasn’t that long ago, really, even though it feels like an eternity.

You drag Javier into a favorite shop of yours. He follows you around like a lost puppy while you search through clothes. He even hands you one or two tops he thinks you’d look nice in. You kiss him on the cheek and he dares to smile for a moment before returning to his stone-faced annoyance at such a packed area.

The dressing rooms are nicer, much more spaced out and offering places to rest. Javier sits in a chair across from your little cubby as you try things on. Every time you find something, you come out and model it for him. He comments, always positively, gives a little applause and smiles at the twirl you give in the big trifold mirror.

There’s one pair of leggings that hug your ass tight. Javier nearly salivates at them. “I like those,” he comments. “They look comfortable.” The same follows with a pair of jeans, even more flattering. He crosses his legs and nods, giving you similar comments.

Then come the dresses and tops. They’re all low-cut, not the wintery clothing Javier’s always seen you in. They show off your cleavage, and one scarlet colored blouse with a low neckline and fluffy sleeves makes Javier’s eyes simultaneously light up and darken. “How’s this one?” You ask, tugging at the sleeves.

“How much is it?” He asks, leaning back and looking at you through lidded eyes.

“Uh…” you tell him the cost and look back up at him, expecting a comment. “Why?”

“I’m buying that for you myself,” he smirks up at you, eyeing you up and down in a way that makes your skin feel intensely hot. The sight is stunning to him, and your flustered smile makes the smirk a little more devilish.

Javier does end up buying you the shirt, and you purchase a few other things you liked. But that scarlet shirt is stuck on Javier’s mind in replay: the subtle valley between your tits, how they filled out the shirt just perfectly and tugged at the cloth covering them, the way they look painfully soft to the touch, especially through that soft fabric. He wonders if you were wearing a bra under it. Then he has to stop himself.

You eat dinner late, chatting mindlessly over everything and nothing. Javier has no work to speak of now, so he tells you tall tales of the hunt for Escobar, some exaggerated and some underplayed. He mainly listens to you, asks about your past and your future, your family and your job. He could never tire of your voice, the soothing lull that warms him from the inside out, just like your skin flushed in that goddamn red top.

He drives the both of you home, humming softly to the songs on the radio. He’s beginning to recognize more and more of the top-40 hits on a certain preset station, songs he’d never listen to on his own. He glances over at you, gazing out of the window, and feels his body warm again- not just in his heart, but his stomach and lower too. He dares to steal a glance down, at the soft swell of your tits in that sweater. God, he wants to get you naked.

But he doesn’t. He doesn’t know what you want and he’s too afraid to ask, too afraid to shatter this blissful phase of adoration without the sexual attraction. He wonders if you feel it too, if your clothes suddenly feel too restricting and too warm when you run a hand down his bare back.

The nightly routine ensues: you shower. Javier changes, this time into a new hoodie but leaves his legs bare, wearing only boxers on the bottom. He waits on the couch, and when you exit the bathroom, he takes his turn. He returns and sits next to you on the couch.

Tonight, when you ask him to share your bed with you, he doesn’t say no. In fact, he doesn’t say much of anything, just yawns softly and stands, taking your hand.

It’s a sacred space, your bed. Javier knows it. He rarely fucks women in his; whether it’s for his own privacy or fear they’ll fall asleep there, he can’t say. But your bed is such an intimate expression of you, and he can see it. He can see the divot in the mattress where you sleep, the way you arrange the pillows just right for your own head. It is a queen size, but it’s single-occupancy: until now, that is, and Javier feels honored you’re willing to share this holiness with him.

He gets into the bed on the other side of you, the warm blankets enveloping him, and he nearly lets out a moan at the comfort. Compared to the hotel bed and the couch, this is sleeping on a literal cloud from the heavens. He lies still, waiting to see what you do first. Not wanting to overstep anything.

His prayers are answered when you snuggle into his side. You rest your head on his chest, kissing his sternum through the soft material of the hoodie. A hand rests on the other side of your face, and your legs both encircle one of his. Javier smiles, wrapping an arm around you. He presses a kiss into your hair and murmurs a goodnight, letting his head fall back. He has no time to worry about this situation before he falls asleep.

He falls asleep almost immediately, which makes you chuckle through your half-conscious state. He seems to always radiate heat, Javier. Your layers of blankets upon blankets suddenly feel unnecessary when a heat source the strength of the summer sun fills your bed. His chest is strong and firm beneath you. The rise and fall of his chest is like a boat rocking on the ocean, putting you at ease and allowing you to rest.

-

Fuck. He knew this was a bad idea. Why did he do this?

The clock reads 1:48 and Javier is wide awake, staring at your popcorn-stucco-whatever the fuck it is ceiling. He wasn’t able to process this before sleep overtook him, before his consciousness was wiped and with it, his inhibitions.

Your body is pressed to his so perfectly. You sleep without a bra, and Javier can feel his arm being slightly sandwiched between your breasts, the way they press further into it every time you inhale. Your thighs are warm with sleep, and he can feel your core pressed against his hip, even while you sleep and even through the layers of clothing.

Javier feels like the embodiment of slime. You’re asleep and all he can think about is how fucking hot your body is, how much he wants to press you into this mattress and wake you with an orgasm. He wants to palm your tits and make your nipples harden through that flimsy shirt, to slide his fingers beneath your pajama bottoms and-

He can’t take it. He feels so wrong, the smell of you surrounding him and choking him like a thick perfume, even in its subtlety. He does not deserve to sleep next to you, innocently, like someone you love, when all he can think about is his own carnal desires.

Pushing back the covers, Javier gets out of bed before any more blood can flow to his slowly hardening dick. This is all wrong. He should not be doing this, thinking these things without knowing you feel the same.

But the guilt is as strong as his arousal. He watches you for a moment, torn between his options, before meandering through the darkened bedroom and finding his way into the bathroom. He turns on the bright lights and forces himself to stare at the bulbs, to make his pupils shrink from their blown state of sleep mixed with desperation. He’s fully awake now.

He needs to get the hardened length down. He can’t do this, can’t allow himself this suffering while you sleep in the next room.

The sink. Cold water. He gasps silently at the splash of the ice-cold water against his face, dampening the edges of his hoodie. It doesn’t work enough. Again. Nothing. He feels like a teenager, unable to control himself. The cold water is a good idea, though.

Javier strips down, trying to avoid the urge to take himself in hand and fix this here and now. Turning the water as cold as it can go, Javier turns on the shower and steps in.

Agony is the best term he has. It makes him want to squeal like a fucking pig as he shudders from the cold. It doesn’t work to force his erection down, but what use is it when it’s not something physical but mental stimulating him? The cold shock didn’t do shit. Javier’s still achingly hard. He turns the water warmer and sighs as it gradually turns to a tolerable temperature, one that he can relax under and allow himself to let out a deep sigh.

He has no other options, unless he wants to wait it out. Leaning against the wall, Javier strokes himself, biting his lip and hoping the water pressure will cancel any soft moans he can’t avoid. It doesn’t take long when he’s this aroused, when he knows exactly what the fantasy in his head would feel like.

Javier is panting and sweating, from the effort and the growing heat of the water. He feels disgusting but it feels so good, and he can’t help imagining you doing this to him, you spreading your legs and feeding the fire between his own.

It only takes a few minutes. He gasps as he cums, with a force he’s never brought forth with his own hand. He bites his lip so hard he’s sure he might cut it off, not allowing the desperate sounds to reach a level you could hear. When he’s done, he groans and cracks his neck. “Oh, little bee,” he whispers, agonized as he lets the water wash the evidence of his sins down the drain.

When he’s done, Javier walks into your bedroom, silently, in the dark. His previous boxers were stained with a patch of his precum; he can’t put those back on. He drops the towel and puts on different boxers.

After he’s changed, he looks at your bed longingly for a moment. The soft sheets, soft mattress, the soft body between them. But in Javier’s head, he’s forsaken his right to the warmth, the comfort.

When you wake in the morning, hours after you thought you heard the shower running, you find Javier is not in your bed. There isn’t even a warm spot where he lay, just your body shifted further from your normal sleeping position. When you wander out to make your morning coffee, you find him. He spent the night on the couch again.

-

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[honoredbastard]

ෆ self indulgent and entilted

characters — bonten!rindou haitani  + *yakuro nanami (oc) .

content and warnings   — mentions of drugs ( yo sanzu ), clubbing, stalker mention, mention(s) of drugging, yelling, angst(?), swearing, and so on.

note  — sorry for the dark content hhhhh, it came with the idea of ackerman being a yakuza that hated bonten and wanted yakuro gone. it may actually be apart of the fic i’m outlining..... these men hold my heart and WILL NOT LET GO OF IT. also they just like dive into my brain 24/7. help i had a fit over what looked best for three hours- at this point i’mma probably make a lil sum’ for sanzu. i love this man and i can’t stop having him appear in my stories that involve bonten. like this guy is 24/7 in the back of my mind.

                                         *Yakuro Nanami.                                            he/they/bun! 

                  Now playing ayanami  — by satin

rindou woke up first to yakuro wearing his bunny ears and a bunny pajama set that he seemed to just slip on before marching into bed. it was cute, but there was still smudges of makeup on his face and the dark circles of terrible inconsistent sleep. rindou sighed, brushing away blonde parts of hair that yakuro was chewing on. 

“yakuro.” rindou lightly pushed yakuro’s shoulder, trying to wake the boy in his semi bunny work attire. “rindou? rindou....” yakuro groaned, his head searched for rindou’s lap or hand that he could lean into. just exist near, to feel his skin and be aware of his warmth, that he was alive and not dead. that he stayed the whole night. “morning doll.” rindou smiled quietly, brushing his fingers over the boy’s hair. 

there was a knock on the door, “come in” as if that was a full offer to entangle himself with the couple he busted through the door and made a running start to jump onto the couple. “HI!” “i don’t do the touching, i’ll sit and pour you your drink and be your personal bunny. please treat the bunny well and we will have no problems. if they bunny feels uncomfortable the bunny has full rights to leave and find a new client. if you understand these rules please enjoy your bunny.”

yakuro stated as if he was at work. it was grilled into his brain and always had to repeat it infront of new clients. working at a bunny suit club was not it, almost rolling over onto sanzu. “bad work day?” “bad work day.” rindou confirmed sanzu’s suspicions with three simple  words. “yaku..” “no.” “yakuuu.” sanzu scooted in between the two, poking yakuro’s cheeks aggressively. he seemed sober, thank god. 

rindou shrugged the mans presence off and trudged to the bathroom to wash and whatnot. “you have another shift, ran told me to wake you up. “that’s not my problem. tell my boss to go fuck himself with a dildo filled with nails.” sanzu’s eyes widened, that was aggressive. although at the same time sorta funny?

“he said he’d cut off your shift times and cut back on how much money you make plus tips.” sanzu repeated what ran had informed him of, with a quite frustrated appearance.  “THAT FUCKER WILL NOT!” raising up from his laying position, yakuro ran into the hallway stumbling here and there from improper pace. 

“i’d love to see him try i swear if he even tries reducing my pay i’ll quit the whole fucking job how about that? i never liked this bullshit bunny shit anyways, it’s annoying when the customers try to touch and then you get stalkers.” yaku was mumbling to hell and back from his bosses call, waving to ran who nodded. making himself a bento before heading off on a small mission.

yaku threw open the washroom door and started searching for his bunny suit attire. the club’s theme was rainbow today so he washed a deep red suit with a black add-on tail and clip on black ears (which were foldable too. yakuro always folds one ear.) when yakuro made it back to his room, sanzu was gone and rindou was crouching near the bottom drawer.

“whatcha lookin for?” yakuro asked curiously, sitting beside the man who made a mess beside him “looking for a red suit now, i’m trying to match with you subtly.” cute- that was the only thinking yaku could think of this man who is a part of a criminal organization/gang. who woulda thought?

“i think you might be better with either a red with black tie or a deeper red of a suit.” yakuro suggested, getting up from his sitting position, joints cracking. “or black would go well, after all i’m only wearing red heel, a red body suit, and red makeup. the rest is black!” yakuro called out to rindou who was still crouched as he exited the room. taking into account his suggestions, he went with a more black with red accents attire.

           ާlocation, bunny palace! ෆ             late night, 11pm.

“here in bunny palace we have many bunnies to suit your taste! male, female, and even those who do not define themselves! run and created by the ackermans.” bunny palace is under the hands of those with the ackerman name. mikasa, the current owner, is softer on us than many. although the music blaring is not something you can get used to.

“hello! i’m moonie! it’s so good to meet you, are you new here?” yakuro was tired, it was about 4 more hours until he shift ended and he was already hungry again. salad’s really don’t fill you up especially when you wolf them down. his feet ached and cried out each time he took another step, he wanted to lay down and use rindou as his personal body pillow.... rindou! ‘i hope he’s okay.’ he thought, placing himself beside the very important client his boss claimed. “oh i am! it’s nice too meet you moonie.”

“it’s so good to meet you too! we have a few rules here that our bunnies tell each new client: i’ll sit and pour you your drink and be your personal bunny. please treat the bunny well and we will have no problems. if they bunny feels uncomfortable the bunny has full rights to leave and find a new client. if you understand these rules please enjoy your bunny. please keep touching to a minimal. do not force your bunny drinks or food. respect your bunny. is that doable?” yakuro asked with big puppy eyes, a big smile, and high pitched voice. “of course!” the customer happily said, hand already on his thigh.

i am SO uncomfortable was all that yaku could think about, his eyes flicking between the customer and each place his gross hands laid upon. squeezing every-so often like it was a pleasuring act for yaku. before he removed the man’s hand, he restrained himself. drawing a large breath before responding to the customer. “i’m so sorry sir! shall i get you something to drink?” yaku pouted, “if you’d like, moonie!” i’m saved.

yakuro smiled and stood up, “why of course! i’ll be right back!” like a breath of relief, he rushed to the staff room. he waved to some girls, “not on stage today moonie?” one asked, a baby stripper new to the bunny palace club. “yeah! boss was all: ‘act cutesy, be close, allow touching this once. there are really important customers here today.’ like thanks for threatening my paycheck and then saying that!”

“oh my, that’s rough babe. ackerman is always like that, it’s like she has a stick up her ass.” one of the older strippers that had been with yakuro since he started chimed in, “you’re right!” yaku chuckled, leaning closer into his vanity mirror to adjust his lipstick and have a chance to message rindou. 

40 missed messages. “i’m so fucked.” “why’s that babe?” “i may have forgot to message rindou telling him ackerman added hours onto my shift.” the room grew tense, “that’s awful? read his messages.” sei suggested, “might cool him off if he’s angry.

“alright!” yaku sighed with a smile, opening the messages. to his surprise, rindou wasn’t angry but instead worried that a client had gotten too touchy and triggered yakuro. after all, ran did inform rindou about the bits and pieces that sanzu did not tell yaku. “whew, i’m good! i’m safe. he’s just worried....” sei and bab took a loud sigh and began laughing. “BUT I’M FUCKED.” “really? that’s great! now go out! your client must be waiting.” 

yup the girls took it that way. “i will! don’t worry don’t worry. i just hope sanzu doesn’t buy the whole club.” “he won’t now go!” sei pushed out yaku who glanced over at the client who finished the previous bottle. his nose was red and was slightly swaying back and forth.

walking up to the bar, yakuro ran into polaris. “polar!” “moonie.” “can you get something for my client? he seems to be a lightweight.” “sure, i’m sure he wouldn’t mind beer.” polar sat down the cup he was wiping back and forth to keep busy.

“the bar isn’t very busy huh?” “oh no, it’s just we got our best girls today dancing and the waitresses and working ten times harder. it works out for both of them and neither of them have to fight each other about unfair pay. tomorrow you’ll be our best so good luck.” polar smiled earnestly to add to the words of encouragement, sliding over the foaming beer over the black marbled counter. 

“thanks! i’ll need it.” turning with the drink in hand, yaku noticed the man’s disgruntled face. he looked as if the whole world was going to blow up and he was watching the countdown. ‘act cutesy, act cutesy, act cutesy.’ it was a constant mantra in his head before he sat down and opened his mouth.

“what could be wrong sir?” yaku felt like rolling his eyes into oblivion, he could care less. “oh it’s just something wrong with the gang.” “oh my, a yakuza?” boring, yaku fake gasped handing over the bear to the angered man. “yeah!” he said pridefully with a chuckle, gulping the drink down and slamming it down. “something about bonten this and that and one of our men died.”

now that’s interesting. yaku felt like walking out to just go see sanzu, it felt like everything was reminding yakuro of him. hell even the purple lights were. but alas he was stuck eyeing the entrance while the man babbled on and on about this whole yakuza shin-dig he was in. he decided to slip off his shoes because the waitresses’ assured the man that they would handle getting drinks.

it felt like hours, drink after drink the world became more hazy. yakuro grew a high tolerance because of his job but he seemed to be losing himself while the client seemed more than sober. “you.. slipped somethin, huh?” the client beside him flinched, clenching onto his bag. “w-what? are you sure you don’t have a low tolerance m-mr. moonie?” the man stammered, through gritted teeth yaku managed to huff out a ‘whatever’.

“miss. ackerman set you up? thought so, the bitch never liked me because i have a bonten member for a partner. guess i’m finally leaving this hellhole. send her my best regards, yeah?” he asked with a agitated tone. his words were laced with threats, raising slowly. “mr. moonie?” “i’m leaving, i want to leave. i have to go see rindou.” he dug the acrylic nails that were done just recently into his thigh. fuck the shoes. 

whatever was in the drink didn’t seem strong but it had yakuro in and out of conscience. the man who was once his client seemed nowhere to be found, leaving a stumbling yaku to himself. sei noticed this and dropped her waiters plate, running over to the bunny who was just about to fall. “MOONIE!” 

          ާlocation, the bonten loft.             early morning, 3am.

blue eyes fluttered open, fighting the urge to close once more. “they’re awake! rindou, they’re all good!” a familiar voice echoed throughout yakuro’s head. his body felt numb, in an attempt to speak he noticed his voice was gone. every one of his senses felt like they were being drowned under water. his eyesight was the only thing that was significantly normal.

though his contacts seemed to be taken off, leaving the blue and purple hues of yaku’s true eye colour roaming free. rindou’s footsteps were heavy and had a quick pace, the vibrations went through the bed. “yaku?” his usual docile purple eyes were filled with worry and anger mixed together, forever burning until yakuro got better.

all the man managed to do was a weak smile, his eyes blinked slowly while he stared at rindou. the two conversed, rindou’s agitation growing as his jaw clenched harder with every muffled word sanzu spoke. “i am very upset sanzu, yakuro was drugged. AGAIN!” “we can’t do anything but sit it out! we don’t even know who it was. rindou you need to calm down.” sanzu too was frustrated beyong belief.

the whole loft was filled with tension that was denser than a brick wall. everyone considered yakuro a part of bonten after two years. he even got a bonten tattoo per mikey’s request. it lays on his right shoulder which he covers up during his job with makeup despite his hatred, it was the only condition ackerman gave him before he could work at bunny palace. ackerman and bonten hated each other, seeing a bonten tattoo at the ackermans would start a war. 

“he’s quitting that job and working at our club. this is the last time i’ll EVER see him like this again.” this wasn’t the first time rindou raised his voice when he was angered by the way yakuro looked in this condition. unable to move, speak, only look plainly at the wall with a weak smile here and there.

it tore him apart from the inside out each time, it did every member living in the loft. finally after whatever happened between those two. sanzu left, rindou left as well but returned with water and began to cuddle the numb and quiet yakuro.

[esmealux]

Planning a Hell of a Wedding | ✓ mourning your lost days as a bachelor

Drabble 09 / ?

Setting: Post s5, maybe post s6?

Word count: 1.4K

Rating: M

Summary of the series: The Devil and the Detective make their way through the wedding planning checklist. One is more passionate about it than the other.  (Works as a sequel to this fic.)

Author’s note: Rated M for Chloe’s dirty mind. Also, I wrote a great deal of this while drunk on champagne, so please forgive me.

Read it on Ao3

Lucifer grabs the drink Patrick just poured him and lifts it to his lips as he turns around to face his club. It’s buzzing as usual, the crowd moving to the pulsing bass while indulging in all kinds of debauchery. To the far right, a Bride-to-be sign glitters atop the head of a young, positively sozzled woman. In another time, he’d already be over there by now, drawing out the desires of her and her jealous, self-pitying girlfriends. Now, he just thinks of his own bride-to-be. Wishes she were here. Or that he were with her, snuggled up on their couch, drinking that cheap red wine she for some odd reason enjoys and stealing fruity kisses here and there.

‘Mourning your lost days as a bachelor?’

His lips instantly spread into a smile at the sound of her voice, his hands reaching for her waist before their eyes even meet.

‘What a delightful surprise,’ he murmurs, leaning in for a kiss. She smiles against his mouth and brings her fingers to his stubble, her ring brushing against his cheek. She tastes like mint gum and lip gloss and something distinctively her. He deepens the kiss for just a second.  

‘There wasn’t that much paperwork after all, and Trixie’s with Dan,’ she explains when they pull apart.

She’s wearing a little black dress that hugs her perfect curves deliciously and reveals her long, bare legs. It’s quite amazing, how she manages to take away his breath every time he looks at her. Even more amazing that he gets to look at her, every day for the rest of-

‘Wait, doesn’t that mean we have the house to ourselves?’

She nods, biting her lip, and the instant effect it has on him is almost embarrassing.

‘What on Earth are we doing here, then? My face should be buried between your thighs right now!’

She snorts at his bluntness, used to it by now. Still, a blush creeps up her cheeks. She looks up at him through her eyelashes, a glint in her eyes.

‘You’re not even gonna buy me a drink first?’

Beneath the playfulness, he can tell she actually wants this, him and her in his nightclub, flirting and drinking. And how could he possibly say no to that?

‘Sorry, where are my manners?’ Lucifer apologises, and in the same instant, a large beer, her favourite, is placed in front of them.

‘For the Missus,’ Patrick says, winking at them both. Chloe thanks him with a smile and takes a long, sexily unladylike swig.

They sit and chat about nothing and everything, fingers intertwined on his thigh, as clubgoers in varying states of inebriation come and go around them. Chloe’s about to order another beer when Lucifer drags her out on the floor. They move together, inelegantly and not quite in sync with the music thanks to the Detective’s two left feet and her lacking sense of rhythm—but it’s okay. It’s more than okay, actually; it’s fun. Even more so when she turns around in his arms and starts rubbing her bum up against him.

He groans in her ear, his grip on her hip tightening. She twirls awkwardly under his arm to face him again and puts a little distance between them, a smirk on her face.

Tease.

Just as he’s pulled her closer, their fronts now pressed together, the music changes.

‘Oh, I love this song!’ Lucifer’s face lights up as the familiar beat and catchy tune fill the club. ‘Such an artist, he was.’ His smile is suspiciously wistful.

‘You slept with him, didn’t you?’

He looks down at her, grinning.

‘Why, Detective.’ He bends his neck, bringing his mouth to her ear. ‘I’m not usually one to shag and tell’—Chloe rolls her eyes—‘but yes of course.’

His confession is a hot breath against the side of her face, his lips brushing her earlobe, and Chloe doesn’t know how to respond to that, but it does make her think-

‘Are you- Are you gonna miss… that?’

He spins her around in an annoyingly smooth move so that her backside is pressed to his front again.

‘Miss what, darling?’ he asks, voice a little muffled as he kisses her neck.

‘You know.’ A series of not entirely disturbing images invade Chloe’s mind. ‘Men.’

He brings them face to face again, dark eyes blinking and brows furrowed in confusion.

‘Detective, are you asking me whether I’ll miss getting dicked once I officially vow to share my bed with only you, forever and always?’

Chloe looks down at their dancing feet. ‘Well, if you want to put it that way.’

Lucifer laughs, equally surprised and amazed.

‘No,’ he answers, his tone suddenly serious, yet still lined with drunken happiness.

‘No?’

He brings his hand from where it’s splayed across her lower back to her face, tenderly brushing his thumb across her cheek.

‘I do not and will not miss it,’ he assures her, eyes twinkling. ‘In fact, I don’t miss anything about my sex life, BC.’

Before she even thinks about asking, he leans down and, in a sultry whisper, clarifies, ‘Before Chloe.’ Then he places a kiss behind her ear, slow and wet.

‘Ah.’

He smirks and lets his hand glide from her face to her collarbone, pausing for a second before continuing across her breast, the side of her ribs, behind her back, and down to her ass—all the while still moving to the beat. He hums into the crook of her neck, his beard tickling her skin, and she puts a hand on his chest to steady herself. Her heartbeat quickens, a symptom of both physical exercise and having Lucifer wrapped around her, all mouth and hands.

‘No, but seriously, darling,’ he says, meeting her eyes in the half-darkness of the club. He suddenly feels the need to stress this, even though she probably already knows. She looks back at him, tipsy and dazed. Her golden ring, her star, glows softly on her finger, her hand warm against his chest. ‘I’ve always found sex to be fun, but with you…’

He considers her face as he searches for the words, admires her soft eyes and curious smile. His hand—the one that’s not splayed out across her delectable derriere—curls around her waist, pushing her impossibly closer. He relishes her warmth and nearness and the sway of her hips—how good it feels. How good she feels. He smiles at her, slow and vulnerable.

‘With you, it’s much more than just fun—much more than just sex. It’s…’

Mind-blowing. Poetic. Comforting. Ambrosial. Giddying. Glorious. Incredible. Meaningful.

‘Love,’ she finishes for him.

He nods, lips tugging up into a lopsided grin.

They dance some more, swinging and bopping to the music. At one point, he wraps both arms around her, hugging her as their bodies move together, and it’s nowhere near as perfected as their dance between the sheets, but it’s sweet and hot and he never wants to let go.

Neither does she, it seems, her hands roaming his chest and back, hungrily. With a mischievous smirk, she unbuttons the first two buttons of his shirt, her fingers skimming down his torso to rest at his belt buckle.

‘Well, if you ever do miss… getting dicked…’ Her voice is drenched with sin, her eyes blown to black as her fingers dip into his slacks. They brush against his lower abdomen before they crawl around to his backside and, ever so lightly, come to rest between his cheeks. Then, with a force that makes him grunt, she thrusts her hips into his.  ‘All you have to do is ask.’

Lucifer looks at her, lips parted in shock and wonder. Their dancing comes to an abrupt halt. Even unbuttoned at the top, his shirt suddenly feels too tight. His trousers are even worse. His pulse thrums in his ears.

‘Detective?’ he breathes, a question and a prayer.

With a truly wicked smile, she brings her fingers to the outside of his slacks and squeezes his ass in her small hand. He responds with a choked moan.

Slowly, she pulls away, leaving him in the middle of the dance floor, frozen and aching.

She’s only a couple of feet away when she glances over her shoulder.

‘You coming?’

He whimpers, scrambles after her as she heads for the elevator, and silently wonders what he ever did to deserve Chloe Decker. 

[fific7]

That Swept-Back Hair

Billy Russo x Reader

@omgrachwrites 500 Follower Celebration

AU Prompt: Friends with Benefits

Summary: How will Billy Russo react when his FWB finds another lover? Bearing in mind that he’s a complete hypocrite.

Warnings: Swearing, jealousy, fluff with mentions of sex.

A/N: Loosely based on S1 Billy, it’s non-canon & set in my imaginary Punisher universe.

(My GIF)

»»———————————————　⚜　———————-————————-««

Your phone was jumping like a jack-in-the-box on your bedside table, the blue light of the screen illuminating the wall behind it every few seconds.

You rolled over with a groan, taking a moment before picking it up and looking at it. Of course it was Billy Russo, who else would it be at 1 AM on a Saturday morning?

The guy next to you in the bed also rolled over, covering his mouth as he yawned, eyes half-open.

“Everything OK, Y/N?” he asked.

“Yeah, Raf, just a needy friend.... gonna call them back, so do you mind staying hush-hush for the next few minutes?”

He yawned massively again, speaking through it, “Ahhhhrrrrr...yeah... no problem...”

You hit the ‘Favourites’ star next to Billy’s name in your contacts, hearing it start ringing.

It went to voicemail so you hung up, slid the phone onto the table and threw your head back down onto your pillow. Fucking Russo. Blows up your phone with missed calls & “Pick up!!” texts then doesn’t answer when you call back.

It rang two seconds later, just as Raf had turned towards you, opening his mouth to no doubt ask you about your ‘needy friend’. You rolled your eyes and grabbed it, but the screen went dark just as you did so.

You hit redial, it rang out, went to voicemail. “Fuck!” you ground out between your teeth.

Your head had touched your pillow again for about 5 minutes, when there was a staccato series of knocks on your apartment door.

You shot up in bed, quivering - ah hell, it couldn’t be, could it? Really?

Raf had dozed back off in the meantime & didn’t even stir when the knocks rang out sharply in the quiet apartment. Not much of a guard dog, you thought, quickly throwing on your discarded PJs.

You padded barefoot over to the front door, confirming via the peephole that Billy Russo was indeed outside in the hallway, leaning on your doorframe so he could place one eye right to it. You spotted an eyebrow wiggle as you made eye contact. Oh holy hell!

You straightened your shoulders, took the chain off and unlocked the door, swinging it open.

“Billy!” you said quietly, with a small smile, “What brings you here?” You hadn’t seen hide nor hair of him for about three weeks. Not that that was anything new.

He moved gracefully past you like the panther he was, even though you’d been trying to subtly block him from coming in. He was dressed in one of his sharp suits, so you guessed he’d been at one of the never-ending stream of events he attended.

Your mouth drew into a line. Whoever he’d gone there with must have bucked the trend and bailed on him. Otherwise he wouldn’t have turned up at your place when, in his mind, the night was still young.

He turned towards you, placing both hands on your hips as he did so, pulling you up against his muscled chest.

“Now, Y/N, why do you think I’m here, holding my best girl in my arms?” the New York accented voice purred in your ear.

He leant in and kissed you hungrily, deepening the kiss immediately to a passionate one.

You pulled away, escaping his grasp. His eyes widened in surprise, a small frown making its way onto his brow. A few locks of his dark hair had fallen forward onto his brow and he swept them back up with his fingers, a reflexive gesture for him.

“I tried to call you back,” you mumbled, “I’ve... uh... got a friend staying with me at the moment.”

He shot his trademark smirk at you. “Hey, that’s OK. We can be quiet for once, yeah?” Grinning now.

In true romcom fashion, Raf picked that moment to come wandering into the lounge, clad only in his boxers, both hands ruffling through his short hair.

Billy’s mouth dropped open. He made a quick recovery, though. Gestured with a thumb.

“So... this your ‘friend’?”

He looked Raf up and down. He was a 6 feet 3 firefighter with the FDNY, and to put it mildly, he was ripped.

He topped Billy by a couple of inches, and by a few pounds. Billy scowled at him.

Raf eyed up Billy too, turning to you and asking, “This your ‘needy friend’ you were talkin’ ‘bout, Y/N?”

Oh crap.

Billy’s scowl turned to a furious glare, aimed right at you. “Needy?!! Ah, fuck this, Y/N! I think we all know who’s needy around here.”

Your mouth rounded into an offended O, but before you could reply, Billy was out the door and it slammed loudly behind him.

Great - now all your neighbours were gonna be mad at you too.

»»———————————————-　⚜　-———-———————————-««

You had then spent an uncomfortable half hour over a coffee with Raf, explaining the dynamics of your non-relationship with Billy.

“Now,” he’d said, brow furrowed, “let me get this straight. He’s part of your friend group, you see him every so often at a bar or at one of their places - but never his. He sees tons of other women but turns up here for booty calls whenever his busy schedule allows?”

He shook his head. “He’s using you, Y/N. What a selfish prick.”

You bristled, “Look, we go back quite a ways. Since he was in the Marines. I knew Frank first as we were neighbours when we were kids, and I eventually met Billy through him. He’s Frankie’s best friend, they’re Marine brothers.”

“And how long have you been ‘friends with benefits’?”

You muttered your response. “Sorry, what was that you said?” he asked.

“Three years,” you repeated reluctantly.

“Damn.” he said. “And what am I, exactly? Filler for whenever fuckboy isn’t calling?”

“No! Raf, you’re a really nice guy, and I love spending time with you.”

He stood up, heading to the bedroom. “Look, I’m gonna go. I need a few days to try and get my head round your fucked-up relationship with the suit-wearing Marine.”

He’d left shortly afterwards, saying he’d call. You weren’t sure that he would.

You met up with Karen for lunch later that day. You’d been co-workers first off, then had become good friends. She was currently dating Frank, your childhood friend.

You were so glad that he was back out socialising, in a small way, after losing his wife and kids in a brutal gang clash just over a year before. They and several others had been what the papers described, rather callously, as “collateral damage” while minding their own business in the public park the gun fight took place in.

Frank had understandably closed himself off to a large extent as he grieved and after a decent interval, you’d tried your best to draw him back out in a gentle way. You’d decided to indulge in a bit of Matchmaking Lite, and had invited Karen along to a night out with the rest of your friends. You knew Frank would be there and as you’d hoped, they hit it off right away.

You spilled what had happened the night before to her, grateful for a shoulder to cry on. She looked and sounded sympathetic, but you knew she wasn’t a big fan of your arrangement with Billy. She again voiced her astonishment that you still had it going on with him.

“Karen, without making you vomit by sharing too many details, Billy is just the absolute best in bed. He’s got the stamina of an ox. Several oxes, in fact.” You just knew your eyes had a faraway look in them.

Her mouth pursed in a ‘moux’ of distaste. “But still, Y/N, he’s just so damn selfish about it! It’s all on his terms.”

“You know he’s got commitment issues.”

She choked on her espresso martini. “Ya don’t say!!”

“It’s complicated.”

“Look, honey, I’m gonna be straight with you. It is anything but complicated. He spends 90% of his time at Anvil, 9.9% with other gals, and guess who gets the remaining measly 0.1%, the crumbs from his table?” She pointed her finger straight at you. “Coconut for the lady over there!”

You sat in silence for several minutes, turning over in your mind what Raf, and now Karen, had said to you. Eventually you nodded slowly. “You know what, Kar, you’re totally right. I just let the great sex blind me to all the rest of his fucking bullshit.”

Time to cut Billy loose.

Not that you ever had him tied down in the first place. If you were being brutally honest.

And you weren’t sure whether he’d even bother showing up at your place ever again.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

The next day being Sunday meant that some serious ‘Me Time’ was in order.

Sitting on the sofa, you stared off into space, thinking about the two men in your life. You huffed to yourself; you hadn’t heard from either of them so far, and that was probably for the best. You could do without being stuck in the middle of some kind of testosterone-fuelled conflict between the two of them.

Then you laughed out loud at yourself. Who were you kidding? You’d probably never see either of them again! You stood up, stretching out your shoulder and neck muscles. Time for a bit of self-pampering.

You had a long relaxing bath, gave yourself a leisurely mani-pedi, ordered in some pizza, and began to go through some layouts for work the next day.

You were a digital content editor at the newspaper both you & Karen worked for. It was okay as jobs went, but it didn’t set your world on fire. However, what did excite you was that the newspaper’s parent publishing house was about to launch a travel magazine, and you’d applied for a transfer.

What really made butterflies pop up into your stomach, though, was the fact that the magazine’s content editors would also be contributing instead of just collating. You’d already had an interview with the Editor in Chief, and should be hearing back within the next few days.

If someone else got that position you’d applied for, you’d just have to shove them out of your third floor office window at the very first opportunity.

While you were thinking of potentially becoming a murderer, there was a familiar pattern of raps at your door. Your heart sank straight through your boots.

You knew it was Billy before you opened the door. It sounded ridiculous but he had a certain way of knocking. Peremptory, demanding, with military precision.

He stood outside your door, tensed up and rigid, with a carefully blank look on his face.

“You alone?” he barked, by way of greeting.

You crossed your arms over your chest, glaring at him. “Why, hello Billy. How are you? I’m fine, Y/N, how are you? Yeah, I’m great.”

He glared right back. “I asked if you were alone.”

“That’s highly unlikely, Billy, seeing as how I’m so needy!”

He huffed and marched inside straight to the sofa, sitting down and leaning his arms on his spread-apart thighs. He clasped his hands together, letting them dangle loosely between his knees.

“You said I was needy first.” Sulky face.

“Hey, are we back in school or something?”

He looked up at you, dark eyes staring into yours intensely. “Why d’you get with another guy, Y/N?”

Straight to the point, then. OK, you were going to return the favour.

“What, I’m not allowed to have a life? D’you think I’m going to just sit around, waiting to gratefully receive 5 minutes of your attention every few weeks? Like some kind of fucktoy, to be picked up and dropped at will? Seriously?”

He clenched his fingers until the joints went white. “I thought you were happy with the way things are between us!!?... our... our arrangement. You’re important to me. And you know I care about you!” Not meeting your eyes at this last comment.

“Huh!!!” You leant against your kitchen island, you weren’t going to get into Billy’s orbit. Too risky.

“So important that you spend all your time at work, while bedding half of Manhattan? Leaving me with the crumbs from your table, as someone put it recently.”

He shot up from the sofa, fury in his eyes. “Who fuckin’ said that?!”

You shrugged, “It’s not important. What is important is that our arrangement, as you call it, is over. Since you put it in such business-like terms, think of it as a contract which has been terminated.”

Billy stalked across the room until he was an inch away from you, eyes boring into yours. “No.”

You laughed in disbelief, eyebrows arching. “You think that just cos you say ‘No’ it’s not gonna happen? Because no-one ever says no to Billy Russo, is that it?”

He grabbed you, lips finding yours in a ferocious kiss. One hand crept up the nape of your neck, his fingers running through your hair, while the other hand pulled your hips to his. He had an impressive erection. You gasped as you felt the pressure of it against you, but pushed him away, escaping to the other side of the kitchen island.

“Just go, Billy. Please.”

He stared at you, wide-eyed, those dark pools of his looking suspiciously glossy. Was he...? No way.

Billy turned on his heel and slammed out of your apartment. Again.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Billy knocked his beer bottle off the table with his elbow, as he leant forward to drunkenly wave a finger in his friend’s face. Luckily, it fell onto the grassy verge below, rather than the decked patio they were sitting on in Frank’s back garden.

Frank grabbed his finger. “Russo!!! Chill out, man.”

“She tol’ me... t’go, Frankie, I was kissin’ her an’ she jus’ said Go!” slurred Billy. Frank squeezed his eyes shut at the whiny tone then looked back at him.

“Bill! We all warned you she wouldn’t put up with your bullshit forever. You should’ve known this was comin’ bud.”

“Bu’ I... I... love her,” he blurted, then stared at Frank, eyes wide, part horrified, part terrified.

“Got a strange way of showin’ it, Bill. Picking other women over her, until you decide it’s time to hook up. Surprised she’s stood for it so long!”

Billy swayed slightly in his garden chair, just staring back at him, nodding repetitively like a bobble head every so often.

“I gotta get her back, Frankie.”

“Whooo,” Frank huffed out a big breath, “well, ya always did like to choose the impossible missions, Russo.”

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

You were beginning to understand what having a stalker was like.

When you left work the following day, the first person you spotted on the sidewalk outside your office building was Billy Russo.

You hesitated, shocked, then nodded and said quietly, “Hi Billy,” before continuing your short walk to the subway.

He fell into step alongside you. “M’gonna show you just how much I care about you,” you heard, then he was gone. Just gone, into the crowd of commuters around you.

That was just the beginning. Every morning, one single rose of the palest pearly pink would be delivered to your office, laying in a swirl of black chiffon within a silver gift box.

Texts would drop into your phone at unexpected hours. “Please forgive me. Let me back into your life. I love you, Y/N.”

The first time you saw those words, you nearly dropped your phone. What the....?

Gourmet meals and bottles of rosé prosecco would be delivered to your door, precisely 30 minutes after you’d get home. Was he watching you or something? A little shiver ran up your spine. He was still a sniper, after all.

You would catch glimpses of Billy when you left the office, and outside your apartment. Without a shadow of a doubt, he meant you to see him, he would never be so visible on a real surveillance job. But he didn’t ever approach you.

Then you got your dream job. You, Karen and a bunch of your colleagues went to your regular bar after work for a quick celebration. There was a toast proposed to your new job at one point, and one of your male colleagues grabbed you in a friendly bear hug after they’d all shouted “Cheers!”

You were looking past his arm as he hugged you, and found yourself staring into Billy Russo’s dark eyes. Casually dressed, he was leaning on a high table near the door, a beer in front of him.

Billy lazily pushed back from his table, strode over to you, swiped you out of the guy’s arms, wrapped his own arms round you and planted a kiss on your temple, with a nonchalant, “Hi, sweetheart.”

Karen, who had heard all about your last encounter with Billy, looked thunderstruck. You’d be getting interrogated later, that was for sure.

He, meanwhile, landed another kiss right next to your lips and said, “See you later at home,” giving you a quick squeeze before walking off.

Your female colleagues meanwhile were swooning over Billy, one of them commenting that she wasn’t surprised you’d kept so damn quiet about your hot boyfriend. You gave Karen a meaningful look and just smiled back at them all, neither confirming nor denying anything.

However the feeling of Billy’s body against yours, the delicious smell of him, his lips on your skin, had set your heart racing at a dangerous speed. You really did try to push those thoughts aside.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Flopping down onto your sofa when you got home, you laid your head back on it and thought about that evening. As expected, Karen had questioned you ruthlessly as you left the bar together, like the perceptive investigative reporter she was.

Talking as you walked to the subway, you’d given her every detail of all the deliveries, glimpses of him and texts you’d received in the last few days. Karen had stopped walking, looking at you in surprise. “Y/N, why didn’t you tell me about all of this before now? Hell, Frank told me he had some crazy plan to win you back, but I never really thought...” her voice trailed off.

“Is it working?” she asked next. “Mmmm, yes and no, to be honest,” you said. “Don’t let it!” she said firmly, “This is what he should have been doing all along, instead of treating you like a total afterthought.”

You nodded, “Can’t argue with ya on that,” you agreed. “Is he going to turn up at your place, d’you think?” she asked. “Wouldn’t be surprised,” you laughed, “I think that was Billy giving me a heads-up.”

So as you’d been 90% expecting, the familiar knock at the door came about 15 minutes after you’d got back. You got up and after checking the peephole, sighed and opened it. “Hi, Billy.”

This was like déjà vu. Billy brushed past you and sat himself down on the sofa, in the same pose as the last time. Head down, hair falling forward and hiding his eyes from you. This time, you bit the bullet and sat at the opposite end, leaning against the armrest so you were facing him.

“Well, Billy.... leaving aside the stalkerish overtones, I guess I should thank you for the roses, gourmet meals and prosecco.”

He swung his head towards you, eyes wide. “They were just to get your attention. Frankie told me it’s what I shoulda been doin’ anyway, all along.”

You nodded, “Yeah, he’s not wrong.”

Billy heaved out a big sigh, head dropping. “I know I’ve been a complete shit to you, Y/N. Took you for granted.” He met your eyes again, “Truth is, I was fallin’ in love with you, and I really didn’t know how to handle it. I thought it was... just sex to you, so I... I was a coward and tried to ignore it, and acted like I didn’t give a shit about you. I just couldn’t have you kick me to the curb if I told you how I felt.”

You were genuinely shocked - Billy had never talked about his feelings before. You’d accepted this in the past, telling yourself it was due to his upbringing in the system.

“So you meant what you said in your daily texts, then?”

He nodded, still looking straight at you, “Yeah...I meant it, I do love you, Y/N.” Then he quickly looked down again.

Before you could stop yourself, you’d leant along the sofa and your fingers were pushing that silky hair off his forehead. He looked up at you, taking hold of your wrist and kissing your pulse point softly. You stood up, saying “C’mere, you,” and took hold of his hand, pulling him up along with you.

He put his arms round you, burying his face into your hair and just holding you. “I’ve missed you,” he mumbled. You laughed, “What?! Even though you hadn’t seen me for weeks before the night you landed on my doorstep?!”

“I know, I know, you don’t need to remind me I’ve been a complete prick. I’ll be honest, I think it took me seein’ you with that guy, and him actin’ like you were his, to give me that kick up the ass I needed.” The dark eyes looked down at you, and he sniffed, “He still around?” You shook your head.

“Nah. I think he thought I was completely insane for still being with you.”

Billy laughed, “Maybe he’s right....” he looked at you, serious again. “You willin’ to give me another chance, Y/N? I promise you I’ll do it right this time. The whole dating thing, asking you to be my girlfriend after three dates, all that stuff... everything.”

“Everything? Like, what if I say no sex to start with? And no running off to other women to scratch that itch? You’ll swear to all that? Really?!”

“I swear to you, on my Ka-Bar.”

“Wow,” you said, knowing that the knife was never out of Billy’s possession. It was an integral part of him. Maybe he was serious after all.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

A small kiss on your cheek woke you the next morning. Those eyes, those dark liquid pools, stared into yours, while a thumb ran over your cheek. “Mornin’, sweetheart,” smiling down at you. Reaching up, you ran your fingers into his hair, moving it off his forehead. “Morning, sweetheart,” you echoed, smiling back.

You and Billy had shared a bed but nothing else, except hugs and hand-holding. You were in your PJ’s - well, camisole top with matching shorts - and all Billy had on were his boxer briefs. You couldn’t deny you’d had thoughts of just leaping on him during the night... let’s face it, he was one hot dude. And he knew how to ‘look after’ a woman in bed, as he himself put it.

But no, you were determined he was gonna have to work for it, just like he promised he would. So you’d had to show some self-discipline, well, a lot of it, actually. He’d passed the first test - he’d actually stayed all night. Usually he was gone before the morning light stole through the curtains.

Now, he kissed your bare shoulder and leapt out of bed, like he was back in the Marines. He stood still for a moment, sideways next to the bed, having a leisurely full body stretch. Billy knew full well you’d be totally enjoying the view. A little tease from him to remind you what you were missing.

The sunlight, which stole through a small gap between your curtains in the otherwise dim room, picked out the sculpted muscles on his back & torso. Then he turned slightly more, ensuring you wouldn’t miss seeing the hard-on he was currently sporting. You shook your head, with a slight smile on your lips. The cocky big bastard.

“Where you off to, Billy?” you asked, thinking to yourself, if he’s headed to Anvil, he can fucking shove his second cha......

“I’m gonna make my beautiful almost-girlfriend a cup of good Italian coffee.”

You smiled at his departing back as he disappeared out of the bedroom. “Oh, Billy?”

His voice drifted back through from the kitchen, “Yeah, darlin’?”

“Can I please get some toast with that, too?”

“Sure, sweetheart.”

You stretched luxuriously, nestling your head into your pillows.

Looked like you were going to find out what having a panther on a leash was like.

[theodora3022]

Love You To Hell And Back(Yandere Claude)

Pairing: Yandere Claude Faustus x F!reader

Summary: Upon running away from home due to an unwanted arranged marriage, you took up a maid position in the Trancy household. You thought it would be simple, lay low for couple of months then the other family would cancel the engagement. Being a maid should be easy right? Just wash and clean the house and saying yes to their lords. You never thought you would end up in such a bizarre and dangerous household.

Notes: I am a Claude simp. If you do not know before, you do now. Do not get the wrong idea, Sebastien is handsome alright, but there is just something about those golden eyes makes me shiver in the best kind of way. (Also I love the French pronunciation of his name but whatever)

Word count:2k

Warning: Non-con touching, coercion, possessive behaviour, general Yandere content

SFW

As a lady on exile, you do not have many options. Your relatives were out of the question since they could inform your parents of your whereabouts, and so does all of your friends. Luckily, you figured out the perfect solution: disguises! And who is more unnoticeable then a maid? They blend naturally in the background of drawing rooms and parties, no one will bat an eye if there happen to be an extra one. Nobles do not care for servants, so a forged name and documents would get the job done. 

Answering advertisements seems to be a good way to start. Ah, there is one right here. The Trancy Estate? To your knowledge, there is only one young lord there, and you are not acquainted with the family. Seems the ideal choice: “Only for two months, as a replacement.” You know being a servant would be unpleasant, compare to your noble lady life now, but you had chosen between this instead marrying a man you despise.

Packing some essentials, you thrown on a simple cotton dress borrowed from your maids and sneaked out. You thought you had escaped from hell, not knowing you are better off staying. Because, you had quite literally, walked into a spider’s trap.

 A dark-skinned maid welcomed you, explaining how she has to leave the household for some personal business while giving you a small tour of the building. She seems nice enough, although you were curious why her right eye is covered by bandages. The manor is dead quiet and empty, giving you an illusion of how you can hear your own breathing.

“Miss Hannah, where are the other servants?” You shiver, tightening your clock just a bit. Although it is only autumn, the winds are chillier in this house, or so you felt.

“There is only five of us. Me, the triplets, and Sir Claude the butler. Our master can be...difficult, one could say.” Handing you a basket of maid attire, Hannah seem to be terrified of this master she speaks of.  

I wonder why he is so difficult. You thought as you thanked her and settled down in the little servant room you were given. Better put on these maid clothes soon, getting use to them as fast as possible. Blue and white does not look so bad together.

Kitchen duties are not so bad since all you need to do is chopping up vegetables and wash the dishes while the triplets took care of the cooking. Dusting is a nuisance, but with enough efforts it was taken care off. The triplets are an odd flock, as they never speak unless necessary. All your befriend attempts had failed miserably, you felt as if they look down on you somehow? Since you only do backstage work, you had yet to meet the master and his butler. Not that you mind, you want to kept your existence covert, after all!

You were trying to dust off the chandelier in the drawing room when you first met Claude. The stairs you use are a bit unstable, which causes you to have major anxieties about falling.

“Ahh!” You squeal as your staircase finally deciding to let you fall. Closing your eyes in horror, you were certain you are going to suffer at least bruises. But the expected pain never came. Instead, you felt a strong set of arms had caught your body mid-hair.

 Gazing up, what did you see?

Oh did that gorgeous face make this fall worth it. The tall man in black reminds you of those flawless Roman statues, of King David. You never thought humans can be this magnificent.(Well you are still right, as he is no human)

Gently placing you back on your feet, Claude started to examine you behind those clear glasses. You quickly smoothed the wrinkles on your skirt as you dip your head for greeting.

“Greetings, kind Sir. You must be Sir Claude. My pleasure to make your acquaintance. I am (y/n), the new maid.” Gods, he is handsome. You were not even sure words can describe how those golden eyes made you feel. Are you blushing? Ugh, get it together, self! He is only a butler here. It is beneath you to swoon over him. You put on a smile, then courtesies to the stoic man in the most elegant way possible.

The lack of callus on your fingers and your sophisticated manners informs him that you, are no ordinary maid. As a servant to his lord, Claude needs to make sure no sketchy individual can harm him. Some investigation would need to be done.

How interesting...Why would a high-born lady such as yourself ran away from your prestigious noble house, only to serve as a humble servant here? Just where did Hannah dig you up? Ah, that is no matter at present. Surely your cheerful spirts can light up the dull days of this mansion. The only thing Claude need to ensure is you do not expire as quickly as others. Alois can be such a spoiled brat; however no harm should befall to you as long as he can help it.

Your voice reminds the demon of little birds of forest mornings, chirping delightfully to a new day no matter how horrid the night before was. The way you thank him stuttering then trying to go back to your duties are just adorable, and amusing. It is clear as day:you are fascinated by Claude’s pretty face. Quite bold for a lady to do so. Claude had met a lot of people in his long life, but none of them intrigues him so as you do. He cannot grasp what exactly, but there must be something enchanting about you, that makes him want to pull you close and do unspeakable things to your good, pure body.  

Tender and cautious, that is what the knocks on his office door suggests. It is late, way past Alois’s bedtime. Who could have business with him this hour, apart from his demanding lord? “Come in.” Claude’s curiosity had spiked up.

It is you, still dressed and with a plate in your hands. What a pleasant surprise. And are those pastries?

“I...baked these for you, Sir. I want to thank you for your help earlier today.” Looking away, you quickly remind yourself how you should never indulge too much. However you had already spent two hours of your free time trying to bake something decent.

Did your parents taught you it is improper to visit a man’s quarters this late at night, alone? How rebellious of you, not that Claude minds anyway. You might appear to be demure and good at first sight, but under that nice façade is a bold maiden who does not care for modesty, how complex.

Chocolate chip biscuits, but with distorted shapes. “I am not very good at this, so I totally understand if you do not wish to eat them. I jus want to properly show my gratitude, that is all.” Nervously fidgeting your apron corner, you bit your lip when he raises one of them to his lips and took a small bite.

Edible, but has lots of room for improvement. Claude can practically taste your eagerness to please from the chocolate spheres. Seeing your gaze fixated on him, expecting his comments on your work, Claude let out a quiet laugh. Which made heat rush up to your cheeks. Is that a good or a bad response? It cannot be that terrible can it?

“Come.” He signals with a hand wave, and you hesitantly walked beside his chair. How cute, the butler and the little maid. It would be a shame to just give you some half-hearted praises and send you out, wouldn’t it? It is what a gentleman would do, of course. Claude on the other hand, has never been one. He could entertain that appearance for his lord’s sake, but in this little room with just you, there is no need for charades.

You were shocked when one gloved hand pulled you swiftly onto his lap, with the other locked around your waist, pressing you against his chest. Of course, you fantasized the idea of being the lover of such a fine specimen of mankind, but only the idea of it. Even though you are nothing more then a lowly maid now, you are still a lady of nobility with conducts of propriety.

Your shrinking pupils made Claude realize he might be pushing a bit too fast. But human lives are so fragile, so short compare to demon ones. If he does not seize this opportunity, who knows when is next one going to arrive? Whether it is your intention or not, Claude is now mesmerized with you. Now that he is holding you this close, breathing in your intoxicating sweet scent, the old demon had his first epiphany of a millennium: you are lovely, and he intends to keep you this way, one way or the other.

Squirming with protests, you tried to get out of his suffocating embrace. “Sir, this is not proper, please let go of me.” Yet you achieve no results, those iron grips still hold you firmly in place, those same arms that spared you an embarrassing fall this morning.

  “Little bird, finally thinking about propriety? You should know better then coming to my office this late unless you want something to happen.” Claude is close, too close, you can feel his breath fanning your ears gently. Gloved fingers trace down your jawline, making you tremble with fear. “Am I right, Lady (family name)?” You froze. What how did he-how do he know you are not a mere commoner? Had he already done a thorough investigation on you?

“Now, repeat after me, little bird.” His golden eyes shifted its color to pink, round pupils bending into a thin line. In normal circumstances, you would be terrified of how his features suddenly changed, but now you are too possessed by his intense gaze to think of anything else. Those eyes, you felt as if you could drown in those two magenta pools.

“I love Claude Faustus forever and I would do anything should he asks of me.”

“I-I love Claude Faustus f-forever...and I would do anything should....should he-e asks of me.” It is still your voice, although those words are defintely not your own. What is happening? Why do your tongue just moved on its own like man possessed?

“Perfect.” Running his bare fingers through your hair, Claude left a light kiss on your forehead, ignoring the horrid expression you are wearing. “You will behave, right little bird?”

“Of course, Sir Claude.” You did not just say that !There is no way. What has this evil man done to you? You never should have come here. Your terrible fiancée at least could not cast spells on you!

“I’ll take good care of you, my dearest little bird. After all, your fate is defined since the moment I lay my eyes on you. We are destined to be together.”

“Oh, do try to behave. It would be a shame if something should happen to your dear family. I would hate if you end up like your other human predecessors.” His lord, despite his young age, is a master at torture and inflicting suffering. There is a unfortunate reason why there is only a few servants in this manor, and the fact that they are durable demons too. Claude knows exactly where you would end up had he not intervened. Do not worry, he would never let you go. Demons mate for life, didn’t you know that? Why resist?

“I love you my dear, to the hell and back. We shall stay together until the end of time.”

[ahgaseda]

phoenix | two

I’ll be the phoenix, leave it to me, we be flying, spread your wings behind your back, they call us phoenix, ride or die, ride or die...

summary : the clock is ticking as you recount your passionate affair with Jackson, the most wanted man in Shanghai, to the people trying desperately to catch him, but no one - including you - knows if he will risk his life to save yours.

warnings : strong profanity, explicit dialogue, mentions of blood and violence, references to drug and alcohol use, graphic sexual content, self-destructive themes, potentially triggering elements involving kidnapping, arson, etc.

miniseries chapters : one / two / three / four / five / six / seven

Hour seven of captivity had come and gone. Leaning against the cold wall, you peered through the small slit of a window at the rain steadily pouring, streaming down the glass. Arms folded tightly across your chest, you heaved a sigh.

As much as you resisted, your mind drifted to Jackson. Where was he? Was he thinking of a plan to help you escape? Or was he cutting his losses and going underground?

You fell into memory after memory, trying to put the pieces together. Of only one thing you were assured - your feelings for Jackson were very real. They were all-encompassing.

Love, you told yourself with a shake of your head. Just admit it. You’re in love with him, but that doesn’t mean he’s in love with you.

Being with Jackson came with many risks and you blindly accepted them all. You were an addict in love with your high, desperate for a fix whenever you could take one. You ignored the danger, ignored how vulnerable you made yourself to be with him.

Now, you were paying for it.

Jinyoung twirled the pen between his fingers, eyes on your back. Thus far, you had been quite forthcoming and that made him suspicious. It implied you were steering his attention. There was a chance you were feeding him only what you wanted him to know or what you had been instructed to divulge.

He would have to press you, see if he could make you slip up. There was something he needed to know. He needed you to think your value was minimal, though it was anything but. His presence in this damned tiny box was two-fold like a double-edged sword.

“When did he show you his fire?”

You could catch the faintest glimpse of your own reflection in the glass. After a pause, where you pondered whether or not to answer, you replied, “Our first night together.”

“Romantic,” Jinyoung retorted dryly.

“Honest,” you countered, eyes narrowing.

Jackson had always been honest. It was part of the fabric that made him who he was. And yet another trait that made you reckless with abandon in your feelings for him.

“You are a hopelessly genuine person in a horribly fake world,” you once told him.

That night, he had shown you every part of him, down to each corner of his soul, and his fire had been no exception. You had taken him inside you, let him have you in every way possible. Never had you been so intimate, more than any other man that came before him.

Something was different - the gravity between you and Jackson.

You had been on your back with Jackson buried between your legs when his irises turned redder than the fires of Hell itself. You lay there enraptured, wondering if you had just given yourself to the Devil incarnate.

Jackson had seen the awe on your face and the glistening in your eyes, relieved to see no sign of terror or even horror. And he rewarded you by moving deep within you again, smoother than silk. You moaned his name for all to hear and arched your body to meet him.

You didn’t question the crimson of his eyes then. Not when he brought you to ecstasy over and over. You cried out no man’s name the way you did Jackson’s and by how intensely he made love to you, he knew that too.

The night was endless. He licked and sucked every inch of you, especially at the apex of your thighs. You raked your nails through his hair as he unraveled you yet again with his mouth, kneading your hips in his broad hands.

Between rounds, you kissed up his spine, tracing your fingers over the Phoenix inked in his back. The firebird stared back at you, undaunted in its flames, and you marveled the intricacy of its wings and the fierceness of its eyes.

Then, the moment you recovered some of your energy, Jackson was on you again, impaling you on his hard length and making the headboard slam loudly against the wall.

For a night you were tangled with him in every sense of the word. When you slipped out from under the sheets to catch your breath, he dragged you back under. He was insatiable, unquenchable, and your body sang for him and obeyed his every command.

But morning came and the haze of lust was pushed away by clarity. You inevitably had to confront who - or what - the man was that had taken you to bed.

You sat in the window of the hotel suite and looked out at the city of Paris in its early morning glory, clad only in a sheet wrapped snugly around your torso. The sun shone warmly across your skin and you basked in the light of dawn. Every inch of you ached, but it was a soreness you would long for when it faded.

Jackson fastened his pants and came behind you, hands gliding across your hips. His breath was hot on your neck, his lips tickling your ear. His voice was low and tender when he asked, “Will you tell me what’s on your mind?”

You shook your head in reluctance.

“I need to know,” he insisted, wrapping his arms around your waist like a snare. “Are you afraid of me now?”

The only fear was his. You could hear it in his words. He was scared you would leave him.

Jackson clambered onto the windowsill to join you, molding himself to your back. You watched his legs stretch on the outside of yours. His arms were taut around you. He wanted no space between you and him.

“Baby…,” he started again. Your silence was killing him.

“What are you?” you asked quietly. “Is it magic? How can you…”

“I…,” Jackson sighed in defeat. “I can’t tell you.”

You lowered your head. That was exactly what you had expected him to say.

“I’m not a hero,” he whispered darkly, lips gracing the top of your shoulder, desperate for a taste of your skin again.

With a roll of your eyes, you grumbled, “I was never looking for a hero, Jackson.”

Jackson cupped your jaw, turning your head until you had no choice but to meet his eyes. “I will never hurt you,” he vowed firmly.

“I know that.”

Jackson leaned his forehead against yours and asked, “Then, for now, can that be enough?”

Of course, it could. You knew you were head over heels, even though you had yet to voice it. The night of passion only solidified your feelings for him.

You reached for his hand on your waist and brought it forward, running your fingers over his knuckles, tracing the lines of his palm. You met his eyes again and whispered, “Show me.”

Jackson didn’t hesitate to let fire gather in his hand. You gazed into the flames, watching them flicker as they never strayed from his palm. You could feel the heat on your skin.

“One day, tell me,” you said, lingering your attention on the bold red of his irises.

Jackson nodded and nuzzled your cheek before burying his face in the crook of your neck. “One day, I’ll have to.”

Jinyoung watched you from his seat, eyes drifting to your hand where you spun the ring on your finger as you recounted the memory. Jackson had shown you his fire, but told you nothing of its origin. Jinyoung was vaguely impressed and caught off guard. Jackson wasn’t known for his restraint.

Returning from your reverie, you finally ambled away from the window, taking the seat across from Jinyoung again. You felt emotional, longing for Jackson in the pit of your chest.

We can’t end this way, you thought to yourself sadly.

You stiffened, deciding to deflect. Having the spotlight on you so intently was beginning to burn. Glancing at the notes Jinyoung had scribbled on his pad, you spoke levelly, “Tell me about yourself, Jinyoung.”

Jinyoung stopped mid-word in his writing and looked up at you through hair falling in his eyes. His voice came out rough, laden with skepticism. “And why would you want to know anything about me?”

You scoffed, feeling your request was perfectly reasonable. “I’m telling you the most intimate parts of my life,” you explained, perturbed. “I know what you’re after and I’m trying to be a good little captive. Indulge me.”

Jinyoung stayed gruff and droned, “I have a role to play. Same as you.”

You were annoyed that he wouldn’t give an inch, despite how cooperative you had been. “And why do you have such a hard on for my man?”

Jinyoung took your remark in stride and answered coolly, “I’ve been assigned to him for many years. It’s my job to know what he does, when and where he does it.”

You leaned back in your chair and folded your arms in defiance. “Then, why do you need me to find him? Shouldn’t you have some idea by now?”

Jinyoung almost ran out of patience. He met your eyes and glared back.

I need you to draw him out. I need to see just how far he’s willing to go to have you. We need to know if you’re a problem or a threat.

At his silence, you nodded in realization. “I’m the bait.”

“Perhaps,” said Jinyoung with a shrug. “We don’t know yet if you’re the queen or just another one of his many pawns.”

That stung, but you did well in hiding it.

Jinyoung sensed you were wounded and leapt at the opportunity to play on your hesitation. He set down his pen, laced his fingers together, and questioned, “What if I told you what he is?”

“I know what he is,” you replied without missing a beat.

Jinyoung snorted, disdainful. “You don’t even know the half of it.”

You were quick to smart, “I know he’s an animal in the bedroom and a gentleman everywhere else. Beyond that, I don’t give a shit.”

Bristling, Jinyoung snapped, “Do you really think you’re going to be rewarded for this level of blind loyalty?”

You said nothing. His raised voice unnerved you.

Jinyoung pressed, “He knows you’re in here and he has done nothing to get you out.”

Your lip quivered and your response was weak, lacking conviction, “He’s biding his time.”

Jinyoung softened his tone, negotiating, “If you start telling me how I can find him - how I can catch him - I can make sure you have full immunity. You can walk away from this.”

You shook your head and answered truthfully, “I don’t know where to find him. He made sure I never knew.”

Jinyoung clenched his fists, calming his irritation. It did him no favors in losing his patience with you, but he was on a deadline. He felt a vibration in his lap and peeked down at his phone, opening a new text that read, He called it off.

Having lost his attention and quite fed up with being interrogated, you rose and moved back to the window. You had tried to play along as Jackson had taught you, but you were running low on energy and denial. You could feel yourself shutting down, doubt trickling inside you like the raindrops streaming down the window.

Jinyoung rubbed a finger across his lips and lingered his gaze on your figure. He could see what Jackson saw in you. You carried fire of a different kind, but you could match his fervor. Maybe Jackson had finally found someone to live in the flames and chaos at his side.

Perhaps you weren’t the pawn after all.

Your mind drifted again. Thoughts of Jackson were all that could console you.

Jackson stared vacantly into the distance. You giggled and combed your fingers through his hair, trying to make the strands lay flat from their current disheveled positions.

“I can’t believe you talked me into that,” he groaned, face pale.

You giggled. “I thought you said you were an adrenaline junkie?”

“That was before I…,” Jackson trailed, puffing out his cheeks like he may empty his stomach at any moment. “Rode that evil thing.”

The rollercoaster had certainly given your brave and tough boyfriend a run for his money. You had never heard such a high-pitched wail leave his mouth like that before. It went without saying you spent the entire time laughing at his misfortune.

“You did well,” you crooned, smoothing down the last patch of hair sticking upright.

Jackson grabbed the glass of water before the waitress could set it down on the table before him and retorted, “I did it because you said you would show me your boobs.”

You chortled, leaning against his arm, and teased, “Like you haven’t seen them a million times already.”

Jackson clocked a glance at your cleavage and murmured, “I like the twins a lot.”

You laughed again. “You know, you’re the first significant other that hasn’t made me cover them up when we’re out in public.”

“My ego and self-esteem aren’t that fickle.”

You snuggled up closer to him and purred in his ear, “That’s because you’re an alpha male.”

Jackson swept an arm around you, tucking you even closer to him, and whispered, “Am I?”

You grinned.

The waitress appeared with plates in hand, breaking the spell.

The sight of Jackson grubbing always put a smile on your face. He devoured his burger and you struggled to keep up. It was a full time job wiping his lips and chin with a napkin.

It went without saying you enjoyed fancy Jackson with his candlelit dinners and well-tailored suits, but messy Jackson just stoked your fire differently.

“Jacks, this is so delicious,” you hummed, going in for another bite.

“It’s fucking holy is what it is,” he growled back.

“Mm,” was all you could manage as you stuffed your face.

Now it was Jackson’s turn to take a pause and watch you. Everything you did was attractive to him. It almost made him insane. He licked his lips and flirted, “I love a girl that knows how to eat.”

You wiggled your eyebrows, dunking a curly fry in cheese sauce and plopping it into your mouth. “I love a boy that knows how to talk,” you replied devilishly.

He cocked a brow. “Oh, yeah?”

You smirked.

Jackson draped his arm over the back of your chair, fingers coming to brush up and down your bare arm. He slipped a digit in the strap of your bikini top and let it snap back on your skin. “Don’t bother drying off too much, baby. You’re gonna be wet for hours.”

You batted your lashes, peering up at him coyly. “Come on, Daddy. Don’t you know by now? I stay wet for you.”

Jackson rumbled in his throat, tucking his face against your neck and pressing a kiss or two beneath your ear. “It’s been a long day,” he mused, having thoroughly enjoyed his time with you at the water park. “You sure you can handle me tearing that ass up at the hotel tonight?”

You reached across and grabbed his thigh, making sure he felt the bite of your fingernails, and spoke under your breath, “Bold of you to assume I can wait that long.”

Jackson pulled back, eyes widening and a grin tugging at his lips. “I’m crazy about you. You know that?”

You nuzzled his nose with your own and said, “Kiss me then.”

Jackson never shied away from public displays of affection. And he never did it to assert his territory. He just couldn’t stop kissing you day or night.

Blinking rapidly, you turned from the window and looked at Jinyoung, noticing his eyes had been on you. Your brow furrowed. His gaze was intrusive, like he could read your thoughts, and you bristled. The memories were yours to keep. Some were not meant to be shared.

Something sent shivers up your spine and your chest filled with heat. Stepping back to the table, your words were sharp, “You think I’m a fool.”

Jinyoung deadpanned, “Very much so.”

You lowered into the chair and asked delicately, “Have you ever been in love, Jinyoung?”

Jinyoung narrowed his eyes. The notion alone disgusted him. “I have not.”

You pressed, “Not even once?”

Jinyoung shook his head.

You whispered, almost more so to yourself, “It makes a fool out of all of us.”

Jinyoung believed that. He had seen it firsthand and refused to suffer the same fate. “To the point you would let the world burn for him?”

“Who cares?” you replied with a shrug, trying to appear passive. “The world is already on fire. Haven’t you noticed?”

“Rather selfish of you,” said Jinyoung, condescending. “To put you and your lover above everyone else.”

A fleeting glimpse of a memory flashed across your mind. Of you in Jackson’s lap as you poured over a novel. His hand danced aimlessly across your naked thigh while you read.

“All the gods, all the heavens, all the hells, are within you,” you read aloud.

Jackson opened his eyes, lifting his head from the back of the couch. “I like that,” he murmured, kissing your brow.

“It means we made it all. We created heaven and hell. It’s all a figment of our imagination,” you continued, turning the page.

Jackson watched you in wonder, the concentration on your face. He didn’t have the heart to tell you otherwise and settled for a parting kiss on your cheek before leaning his head back and closing his eyes once more.

The memory and Jinyoung’s words collided and you felt another shiver up your back. “Is Jackson meant to burn the world?”

Jinyoung swallowed, having inadvertently put himself in a precarious position. “You think too highly of him,” he sneered.

“Why shouldn’t I?”

“Pride cometh before the fall,” Jinyoung taunted.

You shook your head and sighed, “I have no pride.”

“Everyone has pride,” Jinyoung said, almost in scolding. “Did you know it’s the sin God hates more than all the others?”

Your brow stitched. He sounded amused. God had never been much of a factor in your life, but you were an avid reader and offered a rebuttal, “You’re wrong. The deepest, lowest circle of Hell is reserved for betrayal.”

Jinyoung leaned back in his chair, smirking for a reason unbeknownst to you. “And you’ll never betray him, will you?”

“Never.”

Jinyoung cocked his head. “Even if he leaves you in here to die?”

“I’m not afraid of dying.”

“What are you afraid of?”

You stared into his face, searching for reason. Would this man ever understand what you and Jackson had?

“Lies,” you finally admitted.

“I’m surprised he chose you,” Jinyoung chuckled. “You seem nearly as defiant as he is. I’m assuming there were plenty of clashes in the relationship?”

“Nothing we couldn’t handle,” you answered in a small voice.

Jackson followed you swiftly from the kitchen to the bedroom, his cheeks were blazing red.

“You knew I had a career when you met me,” you spat, shuddering at the realization you were having your first big fight with Jackson.

“I’m not asking you to give up your career,” he snapped back, reprimanding. “I just expect you to be where you said you would be when you said you would be there!”

You threw up your hands and groaned, “I didn’t do it on purpose!”

Jackson barely let you finish the sentence before he rounded on you. “Are you sure about that? Because you were very punctual up until we started sleeping together.”

“Fuck you, Jackson,” you shouted at him, vitriolic. “You don’t own me!”

Though you stomped back into the living room, trying desperately to avoid him, Jackson was hot on your heels, yelling, “You think I don’t notice how you’re distancing yourself from me? You’re waiting for the other shoe to drop when they’re both still on my fucking feet!”

Deflecting was what you did best, but he was too fiery, too unafraid to call you out. And he could see right through you.

You barked, “I’m late a couple times and that means I’m trying to sabotage the relationship?”

Jackson folded his arms and glared at you venomously. “I said it and you didn’t deny it.”

You shook with wrath, balling your hands into fists. “Take that manipulative bullshit and shove it up your ass! I should have known this would happen.”

Jackson gawked, though the expression of shock quickly devolved into seething rage. “Should have known?” he echoed back at you.

You wavered where you stood.

Jackson loosened his tie before ripping it from his collar entirely and roared, “You think you’re the only one with a temper, huh?”

“Yell at me,” you screamed, planting your feet. “See if I give a shit!"

“I have been nothing but good to you,” said Jackson, leveling a pointed finger at your face. “I still want you just as much as I did when I met you. You’re the one getting cold feet!”

Adrenaline was finally taking its toll. Tears were burning behind your eyes. “Oh my god, fine! Is that what you want to hear? I’m scared to death of how I feel about you. I’m head over fucking heels!”

Jackson calmed only a little when he pressed, “And what? You’ve decided that this relationship is one-sided?”

A tear escaped and rolled down your cheek. You quickly wiped away the evidence with a rough hand and cried, “You’re too good to be true.”

With that, you turned tail and ran, scurrying toward the front door of his apartment.

Jackson watched you go, still etching your words into his mind forever, and called after you, “Where are you going?”

“I’m not crying in front of you, Jackson,” you yelled at the top of your lungs, slamming the door behind you.

Jackson stood there, rooted in place. He closed his eyes and tilted his head back, inhaling a deep, steadying breath.

You couldn’t make it down the hall. You felt like an idiot. Never had you been in so deep and it scared you shitless. Leaning back against the wall just outside his door, you sank to the floor and wrapped your arms around your knees, crying behind them.

Only a moment later, the door opened and Jackson charged out, giving chase. He slid to a stop and sighed heavily at the sight of you.

You didn’t bother to look at him and you weren’t the least surprised when he slipped his arms under yours and hoisted you up. In one all too easy swoop, he lifted you into the air and popped your legs around his waist.

It was your body’s natural reflex to lock your ankles behind his back, to overlap your hands behind his shoulders and to rest your cheek against his neck, hiding your face.

In the bedroom, Jackson leaned his head against yours and whispered, “I’m gonna silence these doubts the best way I know how.”

Jackson unzipped your jacket and stripped you down to your underwear, but before you could register the cold on your bare skin, he pulled one of his white t-shirts over your head.

You whimpered when he pushed you on the bed. The mattress bounced slightly beneath you. On your stomach, you gripped the blanket in your hands and listened to the rapid thumping of your racing heart as he crawled over you.

Jackson pushed the shirt up, just enough to expose your ass, and made room for himself between your legs. He draped himself over you, combing your hair with his fingers until he could press his lips to your neck.

“And I’m gonna break these walls down, brick by fucking brick,” he whispered in your ear.

You lifted your head and your mouth parted wide with a moan when he penetrated you slowly.

“You’re mine,” Jackson growled, biting down on your shoulder.

You turned to Jinyoung and frowned, unshed tears welling in your eyes. In that moment, you realized you were nothing more than a prisoner - someone who had no rights and potentially no chance of salvation.

“If you let me go,” you began softly, almost pleading. “You would follow me right to him. Wouldn’t you?”

Jinyoung’s reply was blunt, cold. “You’re more valuable in here.”

You bit your lip, staving off the tears with every ounce of your strength. “I didn’t even get to say goodbye,” you spoke under your breath.

Jinyoung looked up from the file abruptly, surprised. “Are you leaving him?”

You looked away, staring into nothing, and said, “He’s leaving me.”

“You know that?”

You bobbed your head and muttered, “When I found out loving him was… dangerous, I didn’t stop. I didn’t leave when I had the chance. I decided that he was worth it. I’m culpable in this.”

Jinyoung felt he finally had you on the ropes and came in for the kill. He approached you and you instinctively pressed your back against the wall. His close proximity was unwelcome, intimidating.

“What if I told you he’s planning something big? Something that will set off a chain reaction that could change life as we know it,” Jinyoung began, hushed like he spoke a deadly secret.

“Don’t tell him that,” you grumbled. “He’s arrogant enough as it is.”

Jinyoung’s eyes flickered, incredulous. “Have you always been this cynical?”

There wasn't enough time to explain it to him. “You don’t understand. And you never will.”

Jinyoung braced his hand on the wall beside your head and taunted, “Try me.”

You exhaled loudly and confessed, “All my foolish feelings aside, he taught me how to live again. I had decided my life was no longer worth living and he changed my mind.”

Jinyoung knew he couldn’t argue with that. Jackson had given you something to fight for and that was a powerful thing. After a pause, he sneered, “If I tell you what he really is, you may not feel that way.”

You shrugged, appearing nonchalant, but you knew Jinyoung was pulling at a thread, one that could unravel your seams. You stayed brave and replied, “I only know what he made me feel. What you say will never change that.”

“He’s not human.”

Those words echoed in your mind, like a scream ricocheting off the walls of your metal cell. You stared into Jinyoung’s eyes, trying to understand what was lingering in his gaze, what he had to gain from dismantling you entirely.

“I know that,” you finally revealed.

It wasn’t a hard conclusion to come to, frankly speaking. Jackson’s eyes could turn from lustrous brown to scorching crimson. Fire could appear in his hands. He could vanish without a trace in the blink of an eye.

Of course, he wasn’t human. He was an entity. Beyond that, you knew nothing else.

Jinyoung frowned, his brow stitching. This was a problem.

You breathed easier when he finally moved away from you and watched him give you a glance over before returning to his seat.

Jinyoung scribbled on his notepad and pulled out his phone. Without looking up, he asked blithely, “What if I let you call him?”

The offer made your heart spin in your chest. Hope bubbled up in the well of your body. The mere thought of hearing Jackson’s voice was enough to bring warmth back to your cheeks. But you quickly lowered your voice to a growl and spat, “Why - so you can try to get a trace?”

Jinyoung sent off a text unbeknownst to you and replied, “I want to know if your feelings are one-sided.”

Seated at a table, alone and shrouded in the dark, Jackson felt a vibration in his pocket. He opened his phone and the four words glared at him, setting his body aflame.

She knows too much.

Faster than he thought possible, Jackson leapt to his feet and flipped the table over. It tumbled to the ground, glasses splintering into thousands of shards across the floor.

Meanwhile, the two agents returned to the room under Jinyoung’s watchful gaze. They ushered you back to the table and fastened your cuffs once again to the bolt in the center. All the while, you scowled at Jinyoung.

Jinyoung held your phone in his hand, swiping to Jackson’s number and dialing without a second thought. He was careful of the cables attached to the nearby computer.

Jackson answered on the second ring, speaking through gritted teeth, “To whom am I speaking?”

“Jackson,” you started, chest clenching.

He paused. “Hi, baby.”

You looked between the phone and Jinyoung, and said, “There’s a man here. He’s going to tell me what you are.”

Another pause. This one much longer than the last. Jackson swallowed the lump in his throat and finally told you, “Don’t believe him.”

Your eyes burned. “Am I…,” you hesitated, voice trembling. “Ever going to see you again?”

Jackson could hear the longing, the sadness. He imagined your big, beautiful eyes staring up at him when he held you in his arms. He had taken you for granted and now there was a hole where his heart used to be.

“If not again in this life, then definitely in the next.”

Your lips tugged in the faintest of smiles, comforted. Another memory of Jackson flashed in your mind, a time when he said something similar and you knew he hadn’t given up.

The expression on Jinyoung’s face flipped on a dime. He pulled the phone away, before you could say another word, and jeered, “Hello, Jackson.”

“Jinyoung��,” Jackson started, fire racing up his spine.

“I got you,” Jinyoung laughed, hanging up.

You rose abruptly, jarring the chair beneath you and making your chains rattle. “You bastard!”

“I hope this has all been worth it,” said Jinyoung, gathering his things.

You wanted to dive across the table and claw his eyes out. Anger was filling you from the soles of your feet to the crown of your head, and at any minute you were bound to explode.

“I will never help you hurt him.”

“Too late,” Jinyoung whispered darkly.

You overflowed and resorted to threatening, “I will kill you if you touch him.”

Jinyoung turned to you slowly, not taking the threat in kind. His eyes bore into yours and the single light overhead began to flicker. Suddenly, he reached out and grasped you by the jaw, forcing you to lean toward him over the table.

“Careful,” he whispered with vehemence. “That mouth is going to get you into trouble.”

Fear tickled across your skin. And in that moment, something told you Jinyoung was not what he seemed.

He kept you in his grasp for a few more seconds, simply to assert his dominance, and then released you. You staggered, regaining your balance and bracing both hands on the table to steady yourself.

Jinyoung exited the only door, slamming it shut behind him.

You were left alone with your rage.

Hands shaking, you yanked at the cuffs still anchoring you to the table. No matter how much you pulled, even with every bit of your body weight, the table was nailed to the floor and didn’t budge.

But even if you broke out of your binds, there was only a locked door and a narrow window to freedom.

“Let me out of here,” you screamed at the top of your lungs.

“Put her on lockdown,” Jinyoung told the guard, your shouts muffled by the thick walls. “No one in or out, but me. We can’t let him get her back.”

“Understood, sir.”

“Good,” said Jinyoung, striding away and putting the phone to his lips. “We play our cards right and our boy will be back on track.”

“This damned mortal girl,” replied the man on the other line. “I don’t know what kind of magic is between her thighs, but she bought the world a little more time with it.”

Jinyoung chuckled at that.

“I shifted his focus,” added the caller, at ease. “He’s looking for me now. Do your worst.”

“With pleasure,” Jinyoung retorted, hanging up the phone and sauntering down the hallway.

Jackson stared down at his phone, reading the text from an unknown number over and over again.

You made me do this.

Jackson had lost yet another battle. Though the war was still to be won. He knew the odds were not stacking in his favor, but subverting expectations was his specialty.

He had exposed his own fatal flaw - you. But as much as Jackson wanted you back in his arms, he knew you were safe. He had to keep them convinced you were more valuable alive. They wouldn’t harm a hair on your head, not whilst they needed something from you.

At least, that was what Jackson told himself.

They wanted him angry. They wanted his bloodlust to consume and destroy. It was his purpose and he had abandoned it. You tempered him. Your voice was saccharine, like aloe smoothed on a burn.

The seed was planted. Jackson could be steered by any chain around your neck. It was a risky move, what he had done. By making them think you were leverage, you were safe for the moment, but the time would come when they would try to use you against him for the same reason.

Jackson knew if he made one wrong move he would lose you forever.

“He’s here,” said the driver, making his boss jolt.

“Finally,” Jackson groaned, slipping out of the backseat of his tinted SUV.

A figure approached from the other side of the alley, clad in a loose hoodie and even baggier pants. The two constant rivals, but occasional allies exchanged terse greetings.

“Jaebeom.”

“Jackson.”

Jackson went straight to the point, seething with impatience. It helped mask his fear. “Where is he?”

Jaebeom formed his lips into a hard line and replied, “I don’t know.” The answer was sincere. Jaebeom wasn’t invested enough to lie.

“He’s involved in this,” Jackson pressed, voice lowering like he didn’t want to risk being overheard. “There’s no doubt in my mind.”

Jaebeom did not seem the least bothered or concerned or even interested. In fact, his face was devoid of any expression. “Involved in what?”

“They took something from me,” Jackson confessed, regretting it immediately. He knew exactly the reaction he would get.

Something danced in Jaebeom’s eyes then. He quickly chided, “If they took her, it’s only because you made her worth something of value to you. That was your mistake.”

Jackson clenched his jaw. His suspicions mounted. If Jaebeom knew about you, then someone close must have told him.

Hands in his pockets, Jaebeom ambled closer, shaking his head in combination amusement and disappointment. “You are so predictable,” he reproached. “I should have bet money that you would be the one to screw up our entire plan because you got distracted by a piece of ass.”

“What can I say?” Jackson replied with a shrug, cloaking his wrath. “I am true to my name.”

“And I’m true to mine,” Jaebeom hissed, unflinching as lighting cracked overhead with his warning. “Don’t fuck this up.”

“Jaebeom, please,” Jackson stammered, changing his tactic. “You are the closest thing we have to a leader in this hell on earth. You are the only one that can make him stop.”

Jaebeom turned to leave and said, “You drew the line in the sand. You should have known it would be lonely on the other side.”

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[valaks]

Hey Valaks! I love your blog and your writing!

Please could you do 1, 10 and 18 for the writing asks?? 🌺

Thank you for the ask! I have added a cut to hopefully not be that person clogging up the feed XD

1. Tell us about your current project(s) – what’s it about, how’s progress, what do you love most about it?

I have a few collabs outstanding like Gemini and a Kabir/Alex sequel to Reunion (It’s rated T at the most so still kid friendly) with Lupin and Devil Went Down to Georgia with Galimau. My utter love for both of my collab partners for pulling me through at a time when I’ve been really struggling. I have a WIPs List but I’ll confess to not having touched most of them in quite sometime (partly from life, partly because I’m not sure how interesting they’d be to anyone else other than me which influences my writing more than I would like to admit):

Good Intentions: Smithers never thought he’d be anyone’s moral compass, he was no angel to sit in anyone’s shoulder but trying to keep Alex Rider from following in the ruthless footsteps of his father or worse his former handler, Alan Blunt is as close to hell as he can imagine. (Wherein Alex becomes head of MI6 we watch his morality slip away form the eyes of an increasingly frustrated and heartbroken Smithers - it all culminates when Alex uses a child “just as an informant, simple information gathering” but hidden behind the charming smile of John Rider and the brutal coldness of Alan Blunt’s words is Alex Rider dying as he says them (Smithers just hopes there’s still a part of the boy he once knew in there to mourn)

Walk the Line: Alex thought he was done with SCORPIA. But they kept creeping back into his life in the most unexpected of ways. He thought he could at least count on it being on the other side until he gets teamed up with Walker, his former classmate and current CIA spy. Unfortunately he still hasn’t been able to figure out whose side Walker is really on - attempted deep cover op like his dad, repatriated rogue spy back on the “good” side, or SCORPIA double agent? He doesn’t know but at least he’s nice....in that obnoxious American way.

Temperamental: (Sequel to Sentimental which isn’t all that popular and you would need to read it for the sequel but basically amnesiac Yassen whose memories stop pre John’s betrayal set during the Stormbreaker mission and features him trying to come to grips with the use of chemical weapons against children and how to handle Alex once he snaps back to reality which is where this starts) Yassen had promised Alex Rider that he would be safe from the world of spying but fate had other ideas. In the days after Sarov’s failed plan, Yassen scrambles to find where MI6 have hidden his wayward charge without drawing Rothman’s attention. A request from one of their existing clients to look into suspicious activity at his son’s former school prompts Yassen to investigate under the guise of offering security. He should have known where there was trouble there would be Alex.

10. How would you describe your writing process?

Lordy do I ever not have a good answer for this. Typically it involves an idea hitting me and then the determination: would this idea work better as a short to post on tumblr (because the set up would take away the tension or would require a multi chapter which is not really my strength), as a prompt to lob out into the ether for someone better and brighter to touch on, or a fic. Once fic is decided I determine whose perspective the fic would be the most interesting from either because it would create the most tension or their internal monologue/background knowledge would add the most to it. Then the summary is written and a title is chosen. If it’s something I’m really passionate about and I already have it in my head I tend to write it all in one go, if there’s more I need to chew on then it’s a series of dates with the Evil Writing App. The final determination is whether it’s good enough for Valaks or if it gets sent to an alt account.

18. Do any of your stories have alternative versions? (plotlines that you abandoned, AUs of your own work, different characterisations?) Tell us about them.

Allegedly. I’ll try to go in order of posting -

Ruthless has a sequel where Alex just goes *quiet* once the initial dust as settled it’s unnerving to everyone because they’re not used to having to wonder just what Alex is thinking, at least not behind closed doors but what happened isn’t exactly something that can be recovered from easily, not when Alex isn’t sure who all’s in on it no matter what they’ve told him. Failure is the AU where I considered what would happen to Alex to make him want to torture.

Alibi was originally going to have Yassen show up in the end but I found it far more fascinating if MI6 was just testing Alex so out went Yassen and in went Ben. The sequel to it was torn apart and turned into Warm Reception because I wanted to trope flip SCORPIA comes to Brooklands and decided that it was more logical to have a small fight in Mrs. Bedfordshire’s lobby than anywhere else and I wanted to explore some side characters instead of Ben.

Providence’s sequel thoughts ended up inspiring Gentleman’s Agreement but I did write a small short for it “Yassen and Alex encounter each other on mission. Surprisingly they are working to mostly the same goal - Yassen needs to kill the millionaire who Alex needs to get information from. “I suppose I could answer some questions for you, Sasha. /In Russian/“ “Is now really the time for a language lesson?” he ground out in frustration but the man pointedly ignored him “/Fine but I don’t know some of the words/“ “/Then there is no better way to learn/“

I mentioned the Sentimental sequel but changing Sarov to come first and probable for almost a month before Yassen figures out he’s missing made the most sense. It was also a bit of fun at the Yassen would absolutely take Alex away from MI6....just to throw him in a school and throw away the key. Almost had him send him to Point Blanc but decided that wouldn’t quite fit all that well and wouldn’t be as interesting as if Alex had already gotten his feet back under him with MI6 and now sees that Yassen was right that MI6 would just use him until he’s dead but that doesn’t mean Alex wants to be anywhere near Yassen. Julia Rothman might have other ideas when she finds out what her newest second in command is hiding.

Gentleman’s Agreement.....there’s a lot of thoughts on Sequels and AUs, a lot of them have been written by better people, but that fic was written in 45 minutes so there wasn’t much time to recharacterize or change scenes. It did get Turncoat aka the Alex saves Yassen fic I wanted so badly.

Blood Brothers is a fic I really worked hard on considering how John would feel about his son being thrown into SCORPIA assuming Alex was of age. A rocky marriage was characterization that didn’t quite fit what I imagined would have happened but did fit the story so it stayed in. It was a fic that was supposed to get expanded on - the competition between Hunter and Yassen and Nile and Alex who is desperate to beat his Dad and his “apprentice”. I think two teenagers thrown against each other with a bit of a bone to pick, especially Yassen and Alex who can both hold a grudge even if one runs hot and the other runs cold, would have been compelling and a little fun but the premise and specifically John’s characterization doesn’t quite work out to me.

Found and Legends both have their plotting done but it’ll never see the light of day

Little Moments and Sweetest Thing were my guilty pleasure writing pieces for a while and I have about 1000 DMs of scenes for both of them that are lost to the sands of time and an embarrassing amount of self indulgence

Mates has a follow up ending for those who needed resolution in the comments of it. I’m not sure I did a good job of showing that Tom was in a semi abusive relationship since a lot of people seemed to blame him for him and Alex’s breakup. Most of my headcanons for how their relationship goes have them splitting much sooner just because of Tom’s own home life and either being unable to relate/talk to Alex and drifting away because his Mom throwing a plate at his head isn’t being hung over crocodiles but that doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt or because Alex is just too dangerous/jumpy to be thrown back into a school environment and lashes out even unintentionally especially not under the pressure of being seen as a failure. School is also a barometer of just how much he’s lost of himself and his childhood, bonus points for Alex being completely upfront with Tom about everything he’s done

In My Sights has an AU where this is all post Christmas at Gunpoint and Yassen is there because he knows Ian is already at Sayle’s factory and will have to be...handled. So two weeks of just getting Alex trained for the protection he might need, connecting him to resources, etc. Ian finding out that Yassen had been there was part of a draft at one point which was included Alex wondering about an all too sincere goodbye from Ian “who never hugged him” but I can’t find the snippet anymore ;__;

A Warm Reception was an alternate version. Originally I wanted it to be Alex watching his last chance at normality slip from his fingers and then the crushing realization that it was something that was his own doing, not even MI6 but Skoda who he had picked a fight with and the accompanying breakdown but then decided that Mrs. Bedfordshire was the right way to go upon writing the summary. Because everyone loves some Outsider POV

Adopted was supposed to be a one chapter throw away trope flip of K Unit adopts Alex. I kept it pretty consistent with Amitai and Lil Lupin’s K Units, tried to add in some more characterization just in how they treated some of the details. It has an alt ending/chapter where they find out Alex is Cub when they pull him from Three’s tender mercies almost by accident. I was persuaded into light humored fluff via guilt trip.

The Truth and Other Deadly Weapons has Ben acting exactly like he think he would in front of everyone but my AU was that this interaction happened in the field and absolutely shattered Ben’s trust in him partly because he had worked for the other side and partly because even if it ‘wasn’t as bad as it looks’ it showed a severe lack of judgment. It also featured several chapters of Alex running into the glass ceiling that is having “Member Malogosto Class of 2004” on your resume. Was going to feature Alex running into Walker as well and into problems within MI6 and the CIA but that was eventually cut and it was kept to one chapter.

Guardian....Guardian holds a very special place in my heart. I was given the prompt of a Monster Fic and I wrote what I knew but the interesting parts were all the ones that come after the story but might come across to a general audience as Hogwarts School of Prayers and Miracles. The plotting done post this was going to feature baby Angel Alex reuniting with his parents but...they were strangers to him and so he stayed with Yassen more and more, followed him, learned from him....it encompassed everything from the dynamics of broken families to reflections on theology and references from the Good Book....which is why it’ll never see the fandom but has a very special place in my heart.

In another, more perfect world Glocking Around the Christmas Tree is the Die hard fic this fandom deserves but as Lupin and I untangled the plot of the movie more and more we just couldn’t make it into anything that would be coherent on paper so it was changed and changed and is now a half finished sad abomination that sits on my works list only because Lupin would kill me if I took it down.

Hot Shot was supposed to feature my current favorite character that is not Nile Abara, John Crawley but I wimped out and changed it at the end because I swore I would write the Crawley fic that we all need. Hear me out: John Crawley knew and worked with John and Ian Rider, was respected by both of them, was recruited by SCORPIA within one year in the field, is the Chief of Staff of MI6, the man who “no one gets a knife in the back without him signing off” and is also the man who walks his dog to check on Alex. There’s a mentorship waiting to happen there, preferably in a nice work study program during college where Alex finally gets to see the repercussions of his missions and Crawley helps try and pull him back from the black mark that SCORPIA would have put on him.

My personal fluffy favorite is the spinoff of Devil Went Down to Georgia where Joe Byrne did pull Alex out post Skeleton Key and brought him home. There’s a pretty extended one about where Tom ends up after Mates. There’s also an actual sequel but ask me no questions and all.

Skipping a few collabs and Febuwhump fics but Burning Questions was just supposed to be Branded - a fic where upon being captured by Razim he is brought in and forcibly branded to differentiate the appearances of Alex and Julius (since Razim has decided to have him killed after shooting the Secretary of State). As a result of the pain levels spiking when Alex actually sees that the SCORPIA logo is branded onto his cheek Razim considers that emotional pain might be something to investigate. There’s a couple thousand words on it, one day I might polish it up.

First Impressions is supposed to be a mirror verse of Alex working for MI6 which includes Three as Blunt, Rothman as Jones and of course Sagitta as K Unit while he’s up against his father as Yassen and Yassen as Crawley. But it was cut down significantly even if the ideas are pretty fun to consider.

Sorry this was probably more than you bargained for but it was fun to get everything out there so thank you for asking

[holy-stevie]

Birthdays

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader, Bucky Barnes x Reader 

Summary: The 4th of July was always a special day to your little family. 

Warnings: fluff, angst, character death. 

Word Count: 2.8k 

a/n: this just popped into my head after watching my friends edit of steve! 

Masterlist

Please do not repost my work anywhere else! 

You can’t remember ever sleeping in on the morning of July 4th. From a very young age you would wake at the crack of dawn to the icy eyes of Bucky Barnes smiling at you, pulling you out of bed and impatiently chatting away on the other side of your bedroom door as you got dressed as fast as you could.

“Come on y/n! we have to get down to the docks AND back before he wakes up!” Bucky exclaims from behind the door, knocking on it rapidly when you don’t reply to him. You throw the door open with an annoyed expression, but Bucky pays no mind to it, grabbing your hand and dragging you out of the house.

The dirty streets of Brooklyn were just waking up as the two teenagers run down the pavement, Bucky twisting and turning with your hand still in his to avoid the few rare early birds out for a morning walk. You smile as the sun hits the excited blue eyes in front of you, holding the same type of joy you did at the occasion.

The small market at the edge of the docks was already bustling with people, Bucky blames it on your lack of not waking up earlier which makes you push him lightly before running over to the stall you knew held the thing Steve desired the most. The young woman behind the stall grins at your excited smile, already turning to gather the small bundle of things you needed.

“Well hello miss y/n, late today, aren’t you?” She laughs lightly at Bucky’s annoyed huff, turning back around to face the two of you holding two small brown packages. She hands the items plus the extra present to you as Bucky slaps the coins down and rushes off, grabbing your hand again to pull you out of the market with a rush, barely giving the chance to say goodbye.

“Buck you gotta slow down, I’m gonna drop these!” You say with a laugh, juggling the two small boxes. He quickly grabs the slightly bigger package that was his present to Steve with a grin before yanking you into a run again, making you smile as you run though the streets with your best friend. By the time the two of you were standing at the front door to the Rogers residence you were panting and sweating, trying to grin at a very amused Sarah Rogers as she opened the front door.

“He’s still asleep, try not to give him a heart attack this year?” she asks as she closes the door behind the pair of you, the both of you letting out grins as you quietly rush into his room. Bucky very stealthily lays down besides Steve, motioning for you to stand behind him.

“Stevie.” You say gently, your soft voice making his nose scrunch, Bucky boops his nose gently making you cover your mouth to hide your giggles before continuing.

“Stevie wake up.” You say again, this time his eyes open.

“Buck what the hell??” He says and shoves Bucky off the side of the bed, knocking you to the floor with him. Steve peers over the side of the bed at you and Bucky in a fit of laughter on the floor of his bedroom.

“I hate both of you so much.” He groans flopping back into his pillows. Bucky springs up and shoves the present in Steve’s face, a big boyish grin on his face as his best friend takes the present delicately and unwraps it, a manly hug shared at the new set of pencils. You shove Bucky to the side and sit next to Steve, cuddling into his side as you hand him the much smaller box.

“My favourite chocolates? Y/n these are so expensive.” He says, throwing his small arm around you as you grin up at him.

“That ain’t all Stevie.” You say as you grab the flower from behind you, placing it gently in his hands. Steve had told you last summer that sunflowers were his favourite thing to draw, they captivated him in a strange way. His eyes light up as he twirls the flower gently in his fingers, giving you the brightest smile, you’ve seen from him in a while.

Bucky makes kissy noises when Steve pulls you into a crushing hug, making you and Steve pull away from each other with blushing expressions.

“Happy Birthday punk!” Bucky almost yells as he stands and jumps on the bed, laughing loudly when you grab the bottom of your dress and join him in the jumping, the sounds of your laughter echoing in Steve’s childhood bedroom.

~

“To this punks’ birthday!” Bucky exclaims, raising his mug of beer and sloppily clinking it against yours. Steve just sighs at Bucks lack of control over his intake of boos, he himself never indulging himself in a glass because there were too many risks.

“So y/n, sad that your best guy is going away?” Bucky says. You almost frown, the worry of Bucky being drafted had been eating away at you ever since he showed you the letter. But instead you grin and lean your head against Steve’s shoulder.

“Steve ain’t going anywhere.” You laugh when Bucky pouts and places his hand over his heart like he had been wounded, his dramatics even making Steve laugh, which was rare these days.

“Well if that’s how you feel ‘m gonna go find a pretty dame to spend my time with.” He says, placing his mug on the bar. He presses a small kiss to your forehead and slaps Steve’s shoulder before mingling into the crowd, winning the attention of a girl within minutes.

“Walk me home?” You ask Steve with a smile, he nods and grabs his jacket, holding out his arm for you to grab like the gentleman he is. As the two of you are walking arm in arm down the street, talking about the future, Steve goes quiet.

“What is it Steve?” You ask, holding your arm out now with a small smile.

“I won’t ever get a dame like Bucky does.” He says, your heart aches at the sadness lacing into his tone.

“Why do you think that?” You ask with a frown, your walk slowing down to a slower pace.

“Look at me y/n, no dame will want to have a family with me.” He says, anger and self-hatred lacing his voice now making you stop and grab his arm to face you.

“You listen to me Steve, the girl who marries you will be the luckiest gal in the world. She’ll love you for you, for the stubborn punk who doesn’t like bullies, for the kind gentleman who knows how to treat a dame with respect, for the chocolate addict in you. She’ll love you for all the good qualities Steve, and I know she’ll come along soon.” You say determinedly, not looking away from his eyes once.

“You really know how to impress a fella huh?” He jokes with a big smile, you return his smile and hook your arms together continuing your walk home.

“Have to make sure I treat my best guy right.” You joke, laughing along with Steve not a worry present in both of you for the rest of the night.

~

An illegal enlistment, a super solider serum pumped into both of your bodies, Nazis, Peggy Carter, and a falling plane is the events that lead to you sitting on the roof of the avenger’s tower in 2012. The sun is just rising over the horizon, the bright beams not bothering you in the slightest as you hear heavy footsteps approach you.

“I knew I’d find you up here.” Steve says as he takes a seat next to you, shoulders and thighs touching yours, as he looks out at the sun with you.

“It seems like tradition to wake up this early.” You mumble trying desperately not to think of the missing member of your little family. Steve doesn’t say anything as the two of you continue watching the city wake up, not moving until the sun was fully in the sky. You turn to Steve with two things in your hands, his ridiculously expensive chocolates and a single sunflower.

Steve smiles down at the presents, they hadn’t changed all these years and he’s never gotten sick of it. It was always the highlight to his day, getting these from you.

“These chocolates are still too overpriced.” He mumbles, opening up the packet and offering you one which you take and nibble on.

“Let me spoil you Stevie.” You say, leaning into him like you do quite often, especially in this new and unfamiliar place. The two of you are quiet, almost hearing the echoes of Bucky’s teasing kissing noises or overdramatic hugs.

“It’s not the same without him.” Steve says, his voice cracking on the last word making tears rise in your own eyes. You both try to stay in control of your grief but when a sob croaks out from your throat Steve slings his muscular arm around you, pulling you into his warm side as you both cry over your loss.

The both of you had been thrown into duty as soon as you were awoken from the icy sleep, not giving yourselves the proper chance to cry over all the friends you both lost, especially Bucky who fell from the clutches of Steve’s hands. You had woken Steve up several nights after he would wake you, screaming for him, he’d always stare at his hands for hours, looking for the flaw that failed his best friend, his brother.

“He’d tell you to stop sulking on your birthday.” You say, wiping your eyes and trying to lighten the mood. Steve just rolls his eyes, as he always did when Bucky would tell Steve off for being sad on his birthday, “It’s your day Stevie! There’s no room for sulking here.”He’d always say, pulling you and Steve into his arms into a big sweaty hug under the summer sun.

“I can almost hear it in my head.” He says, laughing lightly as you both talk about Bucky’s excitement for this day, every year it was always there in full force, making sure his best friend had the best day possible. You and Steve’s laughs echoing on the roof, a third laugh there with you in spirit.

~

The accords dragged your second family apart, they dragged you and Steve apart. A fight between the avengers surprisingly found you at the side of Tony Stark, a knot in your throat as two pairs of blue eyes glare at you from across the airport. When you were confronted with the two people you valued the most in the world, you let them pass to the quintet, not looking at them as they looked at you with angry and confused expressions.

When you were arrested for aiding Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes the rest of the remaining avengers were looking at you with confusing expressions, half of them glaring at your betrayal and the other half sharing your fear of the raft. The cold cell was small and quiet, the occasional soft words from Sam trying to reassure Wanda that Steve wouldn’t leave her here.

Steve stared at you from behind the bars, his eyes hard and his jaw tight. He has gotten everyone else out, they were all lead to the jet by Nat, giving Steve the decision to save you or leave you.

“Is he okay?” You ask, not getting up from where you were sitting in the corner, the collar around your neck cutting off your ability to heal from the several bruises you had suffered getting into this cell.

“Yes. No thanks to you.” He says, his voice clipped and demanding. You press your lips together knowing that he had every right to be mad at you, every right to leave you to rot in this cage. You just simply nod, looking at Nat behind him who gave him a nod signalling that they needed to go. Steve turns, not giving you a second glance as he starts walking away.

“Your duffle bag, second pocket.” You say loudly for him to hear, he hesitates for a second before continuing out the door. You feel the knot in your throat escape in a soft cry as your heart breaks with your own betrayal.

Steve,

I know you won’t forgive me for a long time, maybe never but I had to do it. I love Bucky and I never wanted to fight opposite the two of you, but I’ve brought to much death to this world. I can’t sit back and watch innocent civilians die for the fate of the world, I can’t go home and pretend it didn’t happen anymore.

It was never about sides, you and Tony need to get your egos checked one day, it was about doing right for the world Steve. I would have helped you clear Bucky’s name, helped the world see that he is an innocent man. I hope you make sure Bucky is safe out there, from others and from himself.

Take care of yourself Steve, draw me some sunflowers? Don’t forget that you are important too, that no matter how many sit ups you can do that you are still my little Stevie Rogers who fights for those who can’t. Take care of yourself for me Steve, even if I’ve failed you I don’t want you to ever fail yourself. Stay safe Steve.

Love, Y/N.

It was another normal day, the cell walls mocking you with their threatening clutches, the too tight collar reminding you that you are useless. It was a normal day until the guard outside of your cell disintegrated, turned into dust out of nowhere. You frown and stood up shakily, whipping your head back and forth to study the room. How did he disappear like that? As you look down you see your hands are gone, you shriek and fall back. A terrified whimper escaping your lips as the rest of your body starts to fade away, numbing you lightly.

“Steve...” a soft whisper. Your eyes snap open with gasp, the lights in the cell are turned off, as if there was no power. Your hands rip free of the chains and you rip the now dead collar off of your neck as you stand, looking around outside the cell. Where was everyone? What happened?

You were sitting in the dark for three days before you finally saw another person, the metal limb ripping the cell door off with a powerful yank. Bucky Barnes lets out a sigh of relief as he kneels down next to you, pulling you into him in a tight hug as he finally frees you from the small cage that had been your home for two years, seven actually but you didn’t know that yet.

~

The bright beams from the sun make your eyes water from exhaustion, the tug of sleep straining at you as you watch the sun rise over the horizon once again. You had been waiting for it all night as you twirled the sunflower in your hand, waiting for Bucky to wake up so the two of you could go.

“And here I thought you hated waking up this early.” Bucky says from behind you, like you he’s fully dressed knowing that you wanted to leave as early as possible. You stand up, stretching your stiff muscles before grabbing your jacket from the chair, not saying a word as Bucky drives the two of you to your destination.

You sit in the soft grass, not caring that it’s wet. The fresh dirt and brand-new gravestone making your heart numb with grief. Bucky sits next to you, clutching your hand in his tightly as you both stare at the dirt that holds your best friend.

Steven Grant Rogers

Beloved Hero, Husband, Father.

1918-2024

You shakily lean forward and lay the sunflower in the dirt, brushing away the few clips of grass. You don’t try to hide the tears as you stare at his name. It had been two months since he died, after going back to live his life fully with Peggy Carter. Your heart clenches at the thought of him, the last you had seen him he was dying in a hospital bed, not remembering who you were. Not remembering who he was.

“Happy Birthday Stevie.” You mumble out as you press a soft hand to the grave stone before leaning back into Bucky’s side, trying to keep yourself together as Bucky says his own birthday wishes before the two of you walk away hand in hand, leaving the sunflower laying in the dirt of your most loved Stevie.

Taglist: @scarletsoldierrr​ @chrisevans-imagines​ @patzammit​ @onetwo3000​ @yoncevans​ @harrysthiccthighss​ @sleepycevans​ @adriannajackson​ @donutloverxo​ 

[checkurwindow]

let go

Book: Open Heart

Warnings: Mentions of injuries (cuts, bruises, etc), angst is manageable

Rating: General 

Pairing: Ethan x F!MC

Word count: 2200+ words, slightly above my average.

Author’s note: Is this self indulgent angst with little to no plot? Absolutely. And while you’re still here, take a look at my masterlist for fics with an actual plot and much more angst!

Rain had been in the forecast the entire weekend, and it didn’t look like it would be stopping anytime soon on Monday. It took a huge toll on traffic; roads were closing and bus routes were being changed or put on hold indefinitely. The streets were in no shape for anybody to be out. 

Despite knowing that, she paid no mind to it, trudging through the dark and empty streets. Instead, she kept going, she ignored the pain in her thigh and the blisters on the back of her heel made her inhale sharp breaths with every step. She ignored the piercing pain in her back when she tensed, which was quite often out in the cold, wet open. The throbbing pain at the back of her head didn’t make her waver, didn’t make her stop, not when she was soaking wet and alone at night in the middle of town, not when she had somewhere she needed to be. 

Another lie. It wasn’t a place she needed to be, but rather a place she wanted yearned to be, and maybe she wasn’t welcome. It wouldn’t be a surprise anymore, not when she disappointed everyone, and herself, but she didn’t have many options left. Maybe it wasn’t the best choice, maybe she could’ve gone somewhere else, maybe she would be better off facing the “how could you”s and “I thought you were better than this”, she should’ve gone somewhere else, anywhere else. 

She should be getting her keys out to unlock her apartment door, heading to the shower, and ignoring the worried cries from Elijah. She could even be knocking on the screen door and letting Sienna draw her a bath while they sipped on hot tea. Hell, she was even considering jumping the gate and climbing up to Bryce’s window and letting him hold her as she cried herself to sleep. 

Then what was she doing there? Why was she knocking on the hardwood door in front of her, without a clue of how the rest of the night would play out?

Seconds felt like hours before the door was opened quickly, only going as far as the small chain near the top would allow. She was met with the all familiar sight of those deep blue eyes, and in a flash, they were wide in shock. 

She couldn’t blame him, she could only imagine what she looked like. It was very obviously not an appealing sight if the numbness in her bones had any say in it, but something in her was convinced it wasn’t how she looked like that caused him to instantly freeze up. 

“I didn’t know where else to go,” her voice sounded hoarse, even to her, but she guessed it was just loud enough for him to hear seeing as just a moment later the door was shut, the sound of the chain being unlatched, before he opened the door fully. 

He looked good. Dressed in pajama pants and an old t-shirt, but still good, considering the last time she had seen him. He looked fresh out of the shower, something that she assumed to be a sign that he didn’t have anyone over.

Ethan hated leaving people waiting. A habit that they apparently did not have in common. He moved aside, and she wasted no time stepping into the warm space.

“J-just a second,” he said before running off inside, returning with a towel that he laid across the floor, “don’t want to ruin my floors.”

She snorted, he was still as stuck up as she remembered, “think you could spare me one?” she hadn’t stopped shivering, not even after feeling the warm heating from inside his house. 

“I was actually going to offer you a shower, and maybe help you patch some of those cuts up, I’m awfully good at dressing wounds,” she smiled, ‘it looks like you need it,” he gestured to her head, where a small gash across her forehead was, or at least it felt small, she couldn’t really tell. 

“That’d be nice,” she cleared her throat and removed her shoes. She stopped after stripping off her jacket, standing awkwardly and staring at him, hoping that he’d take the hint.

Instead, he scoffed and went down the hall again, “you’re acting as if I haven’t seen this before. Just leave your clothes on the towel, I’ll throw them in the dryer for you.”

She rolled her eyes, but did as he said. She quickly walked to the bathroom and stepped into the tub. It all looked the same, including the bottle of shampoo he bought her months ago, still in the same spot. It looked as if it hadn’t been touched since she was there last. 

She cleared her throat, mentally shaking herself to forget about those warm but distant thoughts. 

A few minutes after she turned on the water, she heard a knock on the door, his silhouette behind the curtain. He felt close. 

“I brought a towel. And some fresh clothes,” there was some shuffling, before he sighed loudly, “did you eat? Can I get you something?” 

“No, I’m fine. Thanks,” she cut him short, trying to ignore his caring side that he never showed the public. She wasn’t different from anyone else in the world, not anymore. That’s what she tried to tell herself.

“I know you,” he said, “which means I know you had a cup of coffee this morning and called it a day. I’m not quite sure what you got yourself into yet, but I’m positive it didn’t happen over a meal,” Ethan sounded so sure of himself, and damn him for knowing her so well. 

Her silence gave it all away, and he clicked his tongue in assurance, “I’ll make you something quickly.”

There was no resisting the water building up in her eyes. Pain expanded all across her body, she had an excuse. Plus, he wouldn’t be able to tell if she let all her emotions flow behind the curtain, there would be no tear tracks left behind on her bruised face after. 

It might seem odd to others, to those who see him as a public figure, as the heartless doctor. He carried power, and never let anyone outside those doors see his vulnerability. To them, he was a man with high standards and a precise wardrobe.

But she knew the real Ethan.

He was sensitive, caring to those closest to him, acting like he was with her just now. The doctors that gossipped about him were full of shit, they didn’t have any right to criticize him because they didn’t know the real him.

Of course, he was passionate about his job, but they didn’t know how he was in the mornings. They didn’t know what his favourite meal to have after a long, bad day was. They didn’t know what he wanted to do most after a 24 hour shift. About his constant need to have a book in his hands before he slept. Sometimes he didn’t even read, he just liked the feeling of the cover in his hands. About what he looked like, or how he smiled and laughed when he was in complete bliss, when he didn’t think about his worries, when he was really happy. 

No, they didn’t know, but she did.

She reached for the shower handle, turning the knob on the cold setting. She finished up washing her hair as quick as she could, then carefully dabbed her body with a washcloth, avoiding all the red and stinging open wounds.

Stepping out of the bathroom wrapped in a rather large t-shirt and sweatpants, she eventually found Ethan in the kitchen, hunched over files scattered across the table, his hand on his chin as he got lost in his own thoughts. 

Taking advantage of his distracted self, she took in the house. She knew she shouldn’t, she knew it would only cause her pain, more so than the raw wounds she had, it was a different kind of pain. She knew it would only hurt her, or worse, it would resurface feelings she had pushed down long ago, ones she used to treasure once upon a time.

She couldn’t help but stare at the wall beside him, where framed photos of the most important times of his life were hung up. There were a few of him as a child with his dad, a few of him and Naveen, a picture of him on his graduation day, wearing a new pristine white coat.

Her eyes trailed down below those photos to the empty space on the wall, the missing centerpiece. The frame that had once held the picture of them holding hands, smiling as widely as they could. She remembered that day, how the photographer wanted their hands close to the lens, wanting to capture the perfect photo of the piece of jewelry that looked so simple, but yet held so much promise.

The thing that was supposed to hold promise. 

Was she entitled to be sad that he had taken it down? No, she didn’t deserve to be angry or disappointed that it was no longer hanging on the wall, a constant reminder to anyone who walked by of what was no longer.

“Food should be ready soon, I just put it in the oven to warm up,” she jumped when her thoughts were interrupted. 

“Thanks,” she said as he walked closer to her, barely a foot away when he lifted his hand. She instantly flinched, swallowing hard when she realised what she had done. 

He slowly put his hand down, looking at her with wide eyes, eyes that made her feel sorry for him, “I didn't- I wasn’t going to-”

“I know,” her voice quivered, but her hard expression never faltered, her eyes focused on the floor. 

Nodding, he cleared his throat before heading to the bathroom, coming back with a tube of ointment, “we should clean your wounds, you know you’re risking infection the longer it’s uncovered.”

Maybe it was fate, or maybe it was just her luck. Whatever it may be, she would never stop thanking whoever was watching over her that she got to feel his soft touch once again.

Yes, maybe she’d like it better if it were under different circumstances, but she was appreciative of the light touch he had against her head, one hand holding it still while the other gently dabbed the cream against her cuts and bruises.

The quiet was disturbed when he winced at the scrape right above her hip. There was no hiding it; it was already layered in dried blood, purple outlining the crevice of the soon-to-be scar. He shook his head slightly, and she didn’t know if it was from shock or disappointment.

Once he cleared the wound completely, he pressed his thumb against her hip bone, rubbing her skin in soothing motions and she smiled sadly.

“Can you stop, for one goddamn second, and just talk about this?”

“I can’t, Ethan! You don’t understand why, but I just can’t-”

“Do you know why I stick around? Do you care about what I have to say? Don’t you know that I love you? I would do anything for you, why can’t you just trust me on that?”

“I do! I trust you with my life! That’s the problem!” The room grew silent, Ethan formed a sudden frown, his eyes were teary.

Her own were wet, as well. Vulnerability was not her thing, so she quickly turned around, not bearing to see his reaction.

Lost in her own self-deprecating thoughts, she felt a hand on her hip. His fingers began stroking her bone, her skin lighting a fire under every one of his touches. Somehow, the simple touch completely broke her, letting out a shaky sob. He wrapped his free arm around her chest, grounding her. She allowed her own arms to grab at his as she shook.

“We’ll get through it,” he whispered, his own voice a bit shaky, “together.”

There used to be moments where she would allow herself to completely fall into him, would just let go of all the pent up frustration and troubles she had. Because she knew he would catch her, she knew that he would let her release all of her worries for him to fix, and if not fix, just to listen. He would offer comforting phrases that would make her feel like the only woman in the world. He would physically comfort her, whether it was a bath or his touch or his body, he would take away her stress.

And no matter how many times she experienced such ache, Ethan never turned her away. Not once. Not even after all this time separated. And she knew damn well that if she did the same thing now, he would let her.

That’s what scared her.

She couldn’t do that to Ethan, not again.

“It’s okay, Rookie,” apparently, him knowing exactly what she was thinking didn’t change either. His soft voice rang loudly in her ears, traveling all throughout her body. She had to bite the inside of her lip to keep from breaking down.

“You can let go…” it sounded like a promise she so helplessly wanted to hold on to.

Maybe she could count on him to catch her again, even if it was just this one last time.

[lycaran]

Meet Lonnie

So uh...May have made a Hardenshipping fankid.

His name's Lonnie, an orphan street kid that Archie and Maxie adopted who counts as a fankid in my eyes, god damn it.

I can’t draw muscles or children to save my life.

Originally @cryptidanaphafsi​ did this I with their fankid I believe? 

Info under the cut because I really started to ramble about details...A lot. 

Bad Quality picture, but his adult versions both have a keystone in the middle of their mask that they use for Mega Evolution.

Notes:

RSE canon is Emerald, which leads in Alpha Sapphire in the future, though in this canon way, RSE events get resolved Without a protagonist. Hypothetical game futures for the SM and USUM games.

RSE Version -

-Still living on the streets at this point, 8-10 in age.

-Met a few times over the course of the story, usually found hiding around a corner after an encounter with Maxie or Archie(outside of hideout encounters), seems mostly in awe of how cool the plans seem.

-Selectively mute, if talked to he'll make gestures towards the player but since the player is about ten, all you really get from talking to him is "...."

-Jumpy, running off as soon as the player is done talking

-Vitiligo

-In the Sapphire & Emerald versions of the game, post game, he's absolutely Terrified of Kyogre, developing Aquaphobia as he grows older.

-Sometime post game, Archie and Maxie pick him up bc he still seems to tag along just behind one of them, and hey, the kid needs a home. And when they’ve patched things up, they’re really good dad’s.

ORAS Version, constants-

- Adopted pre-game and raised by Maxie and Archie before they split bc of differing ideals...again.

- Mid-twenties.

- Team Magma Admin.

- Aquaphobia from past trauma, selectively mute.

- I can't draw muscles but he's definitely the strongest person there, thanks to Archie and a bit of Matt.

- As an adult, Vitiligo patches have spread and caused part of his hair to grow in white.

- Personality wise, he's a rather nice man, only really being a sore loser. And takes after Maxie alot in the brains department, including dumbassery. 

- He’s dating both an Aqua Grunt and a Magma Grunt, don’t tell his dads though. A grunt in the Magma hideout asks you if you want to place a bet on that happens when the bosses find out, then realizes you are Not one of the grunts, and runs off.

- Aqua Grunt is named Dew

- Magma Grunt is named Ashe

- I will draw them eventually, they will be mentioned elsewhere.

Omega Ruby -

-he appears somewhat sporadically, usually around Maxie. Fought once at Mossdeep city when the player beats the gym, viewing the player as a threat to Maxie's goal...and wanting to make use of himself, aquaphobia keeping him from following the rest of the team down to the Seafloor Cavern. Team: Crobat, Camerupt, Mightyena, Sealeo.

-A Grunt, Ashe, follows him around and acts as an interpreter. Talking directly to Lonnie is always "..." before the grunt buts in to explain what he's trying to say.

-When defeated by the player, he'll turn to the grunt, signing furiously, only for the grunt to exclaim "I can't say that to a child!" before Lonnie leaves in a huff.

- During the Delta Episode he's fought at the Magma Hideout, without Ashe, absolutely Livid about what Zinnia did to Maxie, and fighting the player as soon as they enter, seeing them as just something else that'll upset his dad. Team: Crobat, Camerupt, Mightyena, Walrein.

- Post Delta Episode, you'll actually find him alone in a house on the Battle Resort. When talked to, he still won't talk, but after interacting with him Maxie walks in to explain that he and his son were there, trying to lay low, relax a bit, and they're waiting on "a certain someone" to show up for a talk.

Alpha Sapphire Version, aka the Canon Version-

- Not very active story wise, always seen rather ominously popping up mere seconds after an interaction with Team Aqua. He doesn't have an interpreter this time, so all the player really gets is "...." then a yes/no text box before he leaves.

- Appears on Mt. Chimney with Maxie to try and stop Team Aqua's little attempt. Maxie will actually translate some of what Lonnie's trying to say, and while it would be nice, he doesn't exactly explain Why Lonnie tends to be tailing Team Aqua, Archie most specifically

-And ho boy. When Kyogre gets awoken, this poor man is having the Worst day.

- In Sootopolis, he's seen quite visibly shaking, signing Something at Archie, who might be having a "Oh shit." moment and a half because his Son is VERY MUCH AFRAID OF WATER, AND VERY MUCH CAN. NOT. SWIM.

- So yeah. Not a fun time.

- Half of what he's signing is ruined by how shaky his hands are. Ashe looks ready to strangle Archie, and Dew is reeling from the reality and Actually starts cursing Archie out as soon as the player leaves to handle Kyogre.

- Tbh if the two boys didn’t start trying to murder Archie first, Maxie might’ve.

- When Kyogre is captured, when the player leaves and all is said and done, he gives the player a piece of Cameruptite with a small little Thank You note.

- Battle Resort/Battle Maison, he is once again found in a house, but this time Maxie is already there. And once the player talks to the two, Archie walks in, but when that happens, the player is asked to leave so they can have a Family chat.

Sun & Moon Games-

- Okay this is just me being self indulgent and including him in my favorite games of the series, plus it’s just neat.

- Basically, he’s there on a honeymoon with Ashe and Dew.

- Even after the teams disbanded, he’s very partial to his Magma outfit. Only real change coming coming from the removal of the Magma symbols on his vest. Still keeping the combined symbols on his mask.

- More or less appears as a cameo. The only reason they’re even having a Honeymoon in Alola is because it has both Water and Volcanos near eachother.

- Shows up in post game, investigating the Altar of the Sunne/Moone as the idea of other worlds really peaked his interest.

- Funny Images: 6′0″ string bean and a 5′7″ man with average muscle trying to carry a 6′5″ man with muscle from hell because the waves touched him and he freaked out.

Ultra Sun & Moon Games - 

- Mostly the same.

- With the addition of the player actually getting his help against Rainbow Rocket

- When reaching the mansion, Lonnie will be there. Along with Ashe and Dew.

- He’ll then “ask” which side the player wants to take on, fighting either Archie or Maxie depending on choice. Vs. Archie, he takes Ashe with him, Vs. Maxie, he takes Dew. The other of his husbands goes with the player to help handle the other boss.

- After this, you can find Lonnie, Dew, and Ashe at the battle tree.

- Funny Images: Trying to get Lonnie onto Aether, a man made island in the middle of the ocean.

Pokespe Version -

- His age is more me throwing darts at a board trying to guess when shit happens.

- He’s alot more playful and joking in this version.

Ruby Sapphire Chapter -

- 16

-Actually adopted prior to the Ruby&Sapphire Chapter, but in a surprising twist, stays mainly with Archie.

- Interacts with Ruby and Sapphire once, maybe twice through the whole Manga.

- Hard for Archie to be intimidating with a giant of a teen in a life jacket clinging to him everytime they get near water, but he makes it work

- He stays with Arche and team Aqua for two reasons and two reasons only

- One, he lacks past trauma with Kyogre in pokespe, thus doesn’t fear water as much and can stand to be around it more. Two, alchoholics scare him more than water ever could.

-Along with that, Archie also has the safer public persona, so win win on his part

- Lonnie, being a teen, does tend to wander though. Barely seen for most of the chapters. When Archie and Maxie have their fight, he's there for a split second, before letting out his Crobat and fleeing.

-I don't have it all ironed out, but basically, the whole battles between Magma and Aqua through the whole arc have slowly built up this fear in Lonnie's brain when it comes to his dad's, and this is the tipping point.

- Sadly, both leaders are a bit preoccupied to notice at first that he's gone, and it's a fullblown panic after the fact.

-Sadly tho, this doesn't slow down their plans. But Blaise and Amber are put in charge of trying to track him down and find him.(Not in a bad way, more in a Extremely worried parents with a missing son way)

- Cue end of arc.

Emerald Arc

-still 16

-Makes brief cameos, he tends to linger around the back.

- Actually, screw it, I'll make this pretty later but he and Emerald do become friends.

- Has a small interaction with Emerald, writing about how he finds his equipment cool, and is in awe of how he calms pokemon.

-And boy oh does this lead to some Fun

- Cut the confrontation with Guile in the cave, the first Jirachi attempt

- Alot changes here.

- First of all, while Jirachi still escapes, Guile lingers for a moment. Looking at Lonnie for a long moment. And while he does 'reflect' back the attacks with his sword, he sends the attack flying off into a wall instead of at Emerald and Lonnie.

- Later, Guile actually snatches the poor kid, pulling off somewhere just to have a few moments to make sure he's okay

- If you know the manga, you know it's gonna be revealed to Lonnie at this point that Guile is, in fact, Archie. And while he tries to avoid the details, he does tell Lonnie he needs Jirachi to fix things

- Lonnie assumes, sadly naive, that this has to do with Maxie and their family. Even asking Archie where his other dad is, only to be met with silence.

- That doesn't settle well with him, actually demanding to know what happens, atleast as much as you can demand when you can’t talk. The last he heard about them was nearly destroying Hoenn so what happened?

- Archie doesn’t tell him, straight up Refuses to tell him what happened.

- This does not go well. Leading to Lonnie once more running off.

- Lonnie keeps in touch with Emerald after the arc is over, basically adopted him as a little brother because they’re both weird looking kids, Emerald being unusually short, and Lonnie having Vitiligo.

- He runs into Amber after this and kind of just, vibes there, treats Amber like an uncle, and that’s who looks after him for the next few years.

ORAS Arc -

- 20

-Lives with Amber, mostly helping the man with fishing and all around, just trying to have someone around he can 'talk' to without needing an interpreter or to write down every word he says.

-Team Aqua....2!

-He does end up joining the New Team Aqua, since he feels more safe with them in Pokespe. Along with this, he’s curious about where they came from and what’s going on here.

-Looks most like my concept sketch for him in this version.

- Eventually just, disepears in the midst of fighting. He's learned enough and doesn't want to face that all.

- Listen when I tell you. When he sees Maxie and Archie, he's pissed.

-And when The Dustening happens...

- He actually does cry. Hell, it's probably the only time he speaks, begging in a hoarse voice he never uses for his dad's to stay there. Just for once. Let them be a family just for Once.

- It doesn't work.

- Funny Images: Emerald, looking up at Lonnie who is like 3-4 times their height: “I AM GOING TO STEAL YOUR KNEECAPS!!!!” Lonnie, amused, signing: “You-can-try.”

-Pokemon Seen: Crobat, Sharpedo, Sandslash.

Sun and Moon Arc -

- 22

-He actually appears here.

- Listen, he's a smart man, and he knows a lot.

-Appears after that small time skip after Sun and Moon disepear through the portals, ultimately he's here investigating the portals.

- He 'talks' with Kukui and Burnet to try and figure out what's going on.

-I don't know how it'd be incorporated, but basically, he's trying to figure out where the Hell his dad's are. And if these Wormholes can help him, by god is he going to use them

- Knows that, most likely, they’re dead and gone for good. But still holds out hope that somewhere out there, they’re still alive.

- He's still wearing the life jacket. Less for Aesthetic, more because he’s scared shitless about being on an island.

- Are this chapter is where he would have started dating Dew and Ashe, having met them when that whole, other Team Aqua & Magma were made in ORAS.

[recallingrealities]

Aligned - Chapter 4

Chapter 4: Revelations

Zelda x Reader (slight nsfw)

For Chapter 1, click (here)

As you reached the threshold of the forest's edge, you smile quietly, admiring the Academy as you brush the dirt off the soles of your feet. Replacing your shoes, you make your way back inside. It was upon re-entering its quarters that you remembered your first unholy mass was this witching hour. You had never been to one before, let alone participated in group worship - aside from the ancestors that occasionally surfaced to join you. You felt preceding all that the Goddess had just given you, it felt right to listen in gratitude to an oncoming sermon. What a powerful time to psiphon these overwhelming waves of serenity and gratitude, to return it to the Goddess in worship. It wasn’t yet close to darkness; however the forest had embraced you through late afternoon. You felt it appropriate to retire to your quarters for some much needed  rest before the long night's engagements. You had so much to feel thankful for, and though it didn’t always reside in you quite this way, you were grateful for the safety and honor you felt so powerfully in this moment. Your slumber came easy to you, drifting easily like quiet rippling mist rolling in, or perhaps a chorus of restful waves, retreating to the shore after a spectacular sunset. You had felt like you’d rested for centuries, and awakened with ease and tranquility.

As the moon pulled itself into the sky, you bathed to scarlet candles, adorning yourself with your ash silken robe, readying for the sermon. You left the door open, so the moon’s rays from the bedroom window could reflect its beauty in rippling rays upon the anointed waters. Sipping a warm cup of black coffee felt right after the relaxing rest of the blessed bath. You could feel your senses reattuning with your growing wakefulness, and attention to detail, as you made your face. Massaging soft, scented oils in your moist skin, you felt your senses awaken. Rosemary, notes of pomegranate, and warm citrus dewed your skin with an indulgent radiance.You applied light makeup, and ran a comb through your hair before dressing. The subtle movements you made, entranced your hair to curl in natural drying ringlets. You felt so at ease when your routine was drawn by intuition. It guided you in a way that felt delectable; like running your fingers across a silk ribbon or following a lover down a hall in the dark. The past few days had felt so magical, and you found yourself feeling particularly excited for the night’s worship. Though you didn’t think of yourself as illicitly religious, your dedication to the Goddess could be seen that way. In all reality, it was the deepest friendship you had ever known. Until you began to look at it is a relationship, you realized you hadn’t grown to love an overpowering being of control. Your reality had become humbled and tender at the Goddess you had taken time to understand and listen to. She had always yearned for you to see yourself as she did., with unconditional love.

 After slipping on your dark chamise, and a richly colored saffron tunic, you felt your fingers draw towards a rich Juniper overtunic. It had been one you yourself embroidered with fine golden thread upon the sleeves and collar. Twining ivy, ornate and caring was weaved with intricacy, framing the fabrics edge. You looked at yourself in the reflection of your cup before finishing the last sip. You could hardly recognize yourself, wondering if your closeness of presence to the Goddess today had transformed you. In all reality and in goodness of nature, you had given yourself permission to be you, and that was divinely beautiful - that of quintessence. 

You dawned a matching skirt, of rich wine to that of your undertunic. Your waist fashioned with a simple braided leather. 

Before you made your way to mass, you took a deep calming breath, conscious to surround yourself mentally with a vibrant white light. You felt it radiate from your center, before letting it permeate your every cell, surrounding yourself in a circle of pooling light. The outskirt, you envisioned vibrant violet flames, dissolving any negativity. Anything of ill intent that did not serve you or the highest good. This was one of the first things you had been taught to do, always. Anytime you remembered to do so, you followed this, and considered it not only a cleansing and purification cantrip, but a protective measure. It felt only proper before going to a holy… or unholy place.

As you entered the consecrated church, you found yourself unalone, other warlocks and witches alike making their way towards the building. You had been given directions, though now you realized they were hardly needed, as everyone in the entire coven, or of Magic in Greendale seemed to be traveling here. As you entered the church, you found a seat on the outskirts of the aisle in the front row. You wanted a bit of privacy, as not to draw attention. Also you yearned to be as close as possible as to not miss a word of what was to be spoken this witching hour.

You had managed to completely forget somehow that your High Priestess would be in front of you, leading the sermon. She was at a distance too close for it to be obvious you were entranced, but also close enough to witness her breathing between words. As she made her way to the front of the coven she cleared her throat, silencing the room as her presence always did. There she stood before you, rich copper hair in a few perfect ringlets, her skin like freshly cooled porcelain, or that like the moon herself. She wore one of her classic fashioned dresses, likely from the early 1900’s. The raised fabric extenuating her shoulders would have made your knees weak. You couldn’t lay your finger on what had you come undone in her presence so effortlessly, only that the Goddess had reminded you it was her will, her intention for you to unravel. At that you blushed, transfixed and content watching her blood red lips, forming each word as to address the coven. She mentioned you, and you quickly returned to reality becoming attuned to what she was saying. 

“Lillith has dawned our coven with not only a new statured and powerful witch for our ranks, but also our newest Professoress, Miss Y/N.”

She did not gesture towards you, which you were relieved, not wanting to draw any sort of attention during the hour of your Goddess. There were a few whispers amongst the students, but nothing Zelda looked scolding about. 

“She will have much to teach us in the times to come and I think it would be in your best judgement to listen to her prowess, and see what the Goddess is trying to show you.” 

She pulled her lips tight, as to shoot daggers at Dorcus. snickering amongst her sisters. The girl dropped her smile and straightened obediently.

 “This precisely, leads us to the subject of our sermon. Guidance by the Goddess’ will”. 

At that, the room hushed. With the group having been dedicated to the will of the dark lord for generations, all that was to come out of  Directrix Spellman’s mouth was unheard of. You found your stomach growing hot and curious with anticipation as to what the woman would say. Zelda held a hand to her tightened abdomen, gesturing with the other as she began to speak. 

“As you all know, this coven and generations of Witches have gone by not the will of our own, but the will of our- the Dark Lord” 

She corrected herself, not faltering at the alteration, but reminded of the Hell on Earth arth they had gone through.

 “In mind of the Goddess, we are reminded that her wisdom predates his very presence. For some of what he would’ve considered to be true, also falls into her will. The idea of life and divinity is that guided by the heart - of one’s innermost desires. Something I am sure many of you are familiar.” 

Nicholas Scratch looked at his feet guiltily, trying to hold back a flush as the three sisters giggled, knowing some of his past lustful inquiries.

 “Though desire was a facet aligned with the Dark Lord, something many of you-” 

she seemed to be referencing everyone but you

“Are familiar with. In exchange for power, and ability to act on your every desire, we gave him our will. Whereas the Goddess does not want our will. 

Though I dare not speak for her, I have come to learn she wants not our will for her own, but for us to understand our own will. Truth being a key, a gift to our natural success on the physical plane. To take the time to experience our emotions, our feelings, our darkness, and our loving vulnerabilities. It is the Goddess who wants us to feel and experience, to expose our desires deliberately and separate them from our shame. Our guilt.

In fear, we are spending our energies dwindling on our doubts. How our instincts could be wrong or go wrong - rather than executing our full energy, our complete power to that which we will.

As many of you know from our basic teachings, it is what we are trying to accomplish, and how much we believe in it that is aligned directly with magic, and helps to successfully execute a spell. The power of divine self, however, is a source of power ingrained in every single one of us. It has been with us since the moment we were born. We all have wants and desires do we not?”

Members lulled, but began to nod, it was as if something was clicking in each witch as she continued to speak. 

“Rather than begging the Dark Lord for his mercy and his power - our powers, the Goddess shows us that the power was already within us. We come from a bloodline dating directly back to Lilith herself. The very first witch in existence. Lucifer was a celestial. As unholy and as grandiose his powers were, they were not his own. But of the God he had so been damned by.” 

Zelda could hardly believe these words were even leaving her mouth, though she knew them to be true. She had followed the dark lord with such dedication and veracity - but even she knew there was truth to her words. 

“The Goddess does not physically allow us our powers - the Goddess shows them to us. She reminds us who we are: created in divinity. Given life by the very essence that is her own.

And she reminds us, that when we take out the fear and the doubt and the shame in our thoughts, that have been instilled genetically and societally by both the christian god and our Lucifer alike - when we stop wasting our energy on that uselessness - we become able to concentrate our life force, our magic, in its entirety, to our will.”

After a pause, several members of the unholy congregation stood, an eruption of clapping waved over the group coven many shook and nodded their heads in revelation. Zelda had felt her heart leap in her chest. A response this dedicated had never been expressed so directly in the teachings of the dark lord. This was speaking as it was about, directly to the hearts and the souls of the coven.

“Think about it.” she continued, pausing to place both hands on her podium. “Didn’t the dark Lord prey on your fears? Your biggest insecurities, the guilts that ate you alive? Imagine how much power he took from you. The magic he kept from you all because you indulged in fear and insecurity - that did nothing to serve you. Not once.”

As she continued, you felt as if she was speaking the truths of your heart. The Goddess had willed this. These were revelations you had had from years in private communion with the Goddess. Something when you had spoken about it in religious historical contexts, people looked at you as if you had three heads. Though they were mortals, and some left with a new perspective on life, this woman was speaking to you, sharing the wisdom that made up all you believed to your very core, to your center. You stood with the crowd, clapping silently with a warm smile on your face. She had glanced towards you once during the sermon, and though most would think it was at the intensity of her speech, you knew she became flushed at your visual approval. 

Though you had an undeniable attraction to her before now, in this moment it felt like you could love her. That with each gaining second you experienced her, a fondness grew in your spirit simply from her presence. You never would’ve thought someone could understand as you did. It had been such an isolating factor in your existence for so long. Though, something that made you feel especially tied to the Goddess, it was also isolating. You had stopped searching for confidants or even friends when you realized none of their presences or conversations satisfied you the way your growing understanding of the Goddess did.

As the sermon came to an end, it seemed the Coven was revitalized with new life. A bustling aura blanketing the crowd as they flocked to one another before making their way back towards the Academy. You dared not approach her there, but your eyes caught one another as you exited the building, not willing to speak to anyone but her. Once you made it back towards the school, you took your time down the halls to listen to the echo of personal revelations from both faculty and students alike. You quietly, unnoticed it seems, made your way to the High Priestess’s office. You gave a quiet knock before you heard her voice hum contently 

“Come in”

She had just unbuttoned the top button of her collar, and was leaning against her desk as she fired her cigarette hungrily. She must have thought it would be Sabrina, or perhaps Hilda to encourage her for doing such a lovely job. But upon seeing you, she stiffened - if only just for a moment. She straightened her posture, leaning back on her free hand before greeting you. You had no idea if she was being purposefully seductive, but you definitely blushed at the gesture. She raised an eyebrow to you questioningly.

“Good Evening Directrix”

You tucked a lock of hair behind your ear, leaning back on the door to shut it behind you

“That sermon was…-” 

You found yourself momentarily at a loss for words 

“Exquisite. If i am being quite honest with you” you said vulnerably “I’ve never heard anyone speak of the Goddess in the way I’ve known her before”

Your voice was quiet, almost trembling. She stood, taking a step towards you allowing a smile to surface. 

“I’m glad you deemed it acceptable”

Her words stung teasingly, as if she had not found impeccable pleasure in the earnestness of your compliment 

“I didn’t mean -” 

you began to clarify, before remembering, no shame 

“What I had meant-”

Before you could finish, she was dangerously close to you, lifting your chin with her left index. She exhaled a lungful of smoke, not in your face, but to encircle her form. Your heart was racing again, you now being unable to speak from her gaze 

“And who do you think I learned that from?”

 She questioned boldly, as if to reaffirm you in some way. To restore the vigor in words. 

She quickly turned away before reaching behind her desk to pull up your bag. She slapped a book against the table 

“You left your bag in my office. I wouldn’t be a very skilled Directrix if I didn’t implore the newest endearing member of my coven and academy. I was going to return it to you earlier, after I saw you in the Rotunda-”

she slipped the ornately carved journal back inside your back before handing it towards you 

“but you weren’t in your quarters”

You took a few steps forward, dumbfounded, hardly able to believe you had left something so important with her, let alone for several days. You had been so busy unpacking…

As you moved to take back your satchel and thank her, you suddenly realized how close you were to her. Your thighs were practically touching.

“How did you think I had learned such immaculate discoveries? To all of a sudden become so intimate -  with the Goddess herself? Requiring years of… dedicated council, and meditation I’m sure...”

Her words sent goosebumps across your body 

“Who would be capable of knowing such things, aside from yourself?” 

You realized now her lips were but a mere inch from yours. Her eyes traced you comfortably, as if they had so many times before. It was then, your will splintered. You couldn’t help but lean in and kiss her earnestly. A moan erupted, chorusing from your throats as you quickly wrapped your arms around her neck. She quickly gripped your waist, pulling your thighs together as she returned your kisses with devouring hunger. Her embrace was hard and tender all at once. Feverish, you would’ve sworn every inch of your skin was on fire as she touched you. You could feel her legs pulling you closer as she moved back to sit on top of the desk, pulling you willfully against her. You let out a desperate gasp before crashing into her; wet, needing kisses finding their way to the embrace of her mouth. 

After a few moments of desire, Zelda pulled away to whisper a quiet door locking spell. You took this opportunity to pull back just enough to look at her. Her eyes lustful and glazed with admiration for you. 

“I’ve never met anyone like you Zelda Spellman...”

When you pulled back, she took a steady breath, inhaling a drag of her still burning cigarette. Her fingers were only slightly shaking before she extinguished it in the ashtray beside her. 

“And yet the revelations of the coven were words of your mouth and not mine… and you are the one astonished?”

She then turned her full attention on you, giving you a look confounded and unnerving.

After she let that sink in for a moment, she touched your cheek, this time tenderly. She gazed into your eyes before pulling you to kiss her again,

 ‘Blessed be’.

[artificialqueens]

Pulling Leaves Off Trees, Chapter 1: Been Through the Wringer a Couple Times (Multi) - Sportkuras

Summary:

c’est bon: damnnn

c’est bon: wait. jan isnt your apartment near shea’s

human girl: @jansport spill

Jan could feel her stomach drop as she looked at the message.

“Oh, goddamn it.”

—

Or: The girls try to survive college, and everything else that comes with almost being an adult.

A/N: my first fic here on artificialqueens! i noticed that arent many college au’s and group chat fics of the s12 cast so i let myself be self-indulgent for once!! its unbeta’d so apologies lmao but you can talk to me here and you can find the ao3 link here! comment if you’d like!

***

Jan started her morning like almost every college student in their third year would: to be woken up by their alarm after a night of heavy drinking. She woke up with a start and groaned as Chromatica II started blaring from her phone, blindly reaching for it on her nightstand and peering at the time.

Damn. One in the afternoon, huh?

“Thank god I don’t have class today.” The blonde muttered as she checked her notifications: 7 from Twitter, 3 from Insta, and 1 from their group chat. She sat up from her bed and scrolled through the chat, trying to quell her pounding headache.

Bon Voy

Members: jaidaessencehall, heidininacloset, jansport, jackiecox, gigigoode, crystalmethyd, britafilter, dahliasin, nickydoll, aidenzhane, and widowvondu

lebron essence ball: okay so

lebron essence ball: me and shea are at the library rn and she’s complaining to me abt how she couldnt sleep right

lebron essence ball: and chile….it was bc someone was getting RAILED last night lmaooo

lebron essence ball: she said, and i quote, “the bitch had such a good time even I’M jealous”

c’est bon: damnnn

c’est bon:wait. jan isnt your apartment near shea’s

human girl: @jansport spill

human girl: also

human girl: feels weird that we didn’t start this day with a good morning announcement from jan

c’est bon: the vibes were off 😞

Jan could feel her stomach drop as she looked at the message, “Oh, goddamn it.” She’s now acutely aware of their apartment door opening and Rock’s footsteps padding from outside her room, most likely just coming home from her class. She suddenly remembered exactly what happened last night; most especially memories of what happened between her and her roommate . Memories of them being drunk as hell, coming back to their apartment from god knows how many bars, going to Jan’s room giggling like teenagers on a sleepover and well. You know.

Jan checked her phone again.

lebron essence ball: jannette….would you happen to know who was the lucky gal? 👀

backpack backpack: good morning to you too gigi 🙄

human girl: *Afternoon, actually

human girl: Now spill! I know you know almost everyone on that floor.

She pinched the bridge of her nose. How in the hell was she gonna say that her and Rock got drunk and hooked up as casually as possible? She could lie, but Jaida, Brita and Widow could smell bullshit coming from a mile away, and she’s a horrible liar. They’d know she was bluffing.

Might as well get it over it. She let out a sigh as she typed out a message, hoping that it was only Jaida, Nicky and Gigi who were online.

backpack backpack: haha yeah so um

backpack backpack: that was me & rock actually

Even though no one could see her, Jan hid her face behind her hands, bracing for the worst. Several dings!  had come from her phone as soon as she sent the message. Of course it wasn’t only Jaida, Nicky and Gigi who were online.

cox destroyers: Oh my god.

Jan’s eyes widened when she saw Jackie reply, although she’s not quite sure why she was panicking about Jackie knowing about her hook up with Rock in the first place. All she knows is that she’s gonna have to face Jackie (and everyone else, for that matter,) later.

sin city: ohhh bitch—

c’est bon: you and ROCK???

dom top: !!!

dom top: idk who Rock is but get it sister

backpack backpack: Thank you! Thank you, Heidi. It’s like you’re the only one who’s not acting weird right now.

c’est bon: lmao heidi

c’est bon: she’s jans roommate

human girl: Janice Elizabeth Sport.

von du for two: not this shit again i swear to god

tap water: Jan.

tap water: You know that I love you

tap water: BUT WILL YOU PLEASE STOP SLEEPING WITH YOUR ROOMMATES

Jan rolled her eyes at the messages, wanting the ‘news’ to be over as soon as possible. “And they say I’m the dramatic one.” She huffed as she quickly typed on her phone again.

backpack backpack: okay can y’all chill 🙄

backpack backpack: we just got drunk and slept together, that’s all.

backpack backpack: tell shea im sorry though xxxx @jaidaessencehall

lebron essence ball: bitch you know it ain’t about having a drunk hookup with someone

lebron essence ball: its about the fact that you banged your roommate AGAIN

backpack backpack: oh COME ON

backpack backpack: this was just the second time!!

backpack backpack: and lemon’s with priyanka now!!!

von du for two: girl you & lemon were fucking almost every week i can’t with u

von du for two: going at it like rabbits while we were outside your apartment getting ready to watch glee :/

tap water: and, frankly, i don’t want to come up to your apartment to run lines with you if i have to hear y’all fooling around. my good, christian ears have heard enough.

She felt her face heat up in embarrassment.

backpack backpack: oh my god can you guys please shut up!!!!

backpack backpack: it’s not gonna happen again bc it was a one time thing

backpack backpack: i promise

human girl: [dwayne the rock johnson voice] are you sure about that?

backpack backpack: yes georgina goode i am 100% sure

Jan bit her lip as she looked up at the door to her room. Okay, she’s not 100% sure, but not because she regretted it or anything. As much as her brain was allowing her to remember, last night was good. Great, even. But between auditions, college, and working in the café, her love life (or lack thereof) is on pause for now. Besides, it’s not like anyone has been actively pursuing her, or vice versa.

But it wouldn’t hurt to ask Rock, right?

Sighing in defeat, Jan quickly got up from her bed with her phone still in her hand (as much as her hangover allowed her), left her room and knocked on her roommates door, hoping that she wasn’t busy. She heard a faint “come in!” from the other side and opened the door softly.

“Hey, roomie.” She joked.

Rock looked up from her drawing tablet and slipped off the headphones from her ears. “Glad to see you’re finally awake, and here I thought you were a morning person.” Rock’s room was a mess of color and paraphernalia; while Jan’s was strictly purple, pop culture, and musical theater, hers was an array of figurines and albums on the shelves, kpop & anime posters tacked on the wall behind her bed reaching up to the ceiling, and a somewhat decent gaming setup in the corner of her room. Crystal and Nicky would be proud.

Jan rolled her eyes, “Yeah, well, last night was something,” She slightly cleared her throat at the mention of last night. “Also, about last night…”

Rock raised her brow, “Go on?”

“It was a one time thing, right?” Jan furrowed her brows in question, “I mean, last night was amazing , as much my brain is allowing me to remember. And you’re hot, so, I’m not complaining. Really dig the anime e-girl vibe, and I’m sure anyone would tap that ass! I mean, I did, but I’m just—”

“—Not looking for anything right now?” Rock cut her off, saving Jan from turning into a hungover, rambling mess.

She let out a sigh of relief, sitting on her roommates bed and putting her phone down, “Yeah, doll. Just been really busy right now, y’know? 3rd year isn’t a joke.”

The pink-haired girl let out a snort, “Oh, I know the feeling. And don’t worry, I wasn’t looking for anything either, and while last night was fun,” She looked at her pointedly, and Jan was calm enough to actually smirk at the incident between the two, “I’d much rather have you as my friend than as my fuck buddy, because you are loud , girl!”

Jan shrieked at that, “Oh my god, shut up!” She threw a pillow at Rock’s head while the girl let out a cackle, “My friends were on my ass about that too, some friends they are.”

“Wait, you told your friends about that? Aren’t you friends with Nicky?”

Jan huffed, “Mama, more like I was forced to tell them. Jaida’s friend, Shea—whose apartment is next to ours, by the way—was complaining to her about how she couldn’t sleep last night because of, um, my tendency to be vocal.”

“You’re welcome, by the way.”

“Rotted bitch!” Jan threw another pillow at Rock, this time missing because the girl was doubled over in laughter, “I can’t believe you! The disrespect, really. I shouldn’t be taking this from you, I still have a shift to do at 3.”

“But you took it from me real good last night, so,” this time Rock shielded her face as Jan threw pillow after pillow at her, trying to speak through her laughter, “Okay, okay! I give, I give! I’m sorry, mom!”

“Bitch! I can be a top if I want to!” Jan exclaimed in mock offense. As their laughter subsided, the blonde suddenly had an idea, “Oh! What if I invite you over for dinner?”

Rock smirked, “One: we’re roommates. It’s not really inviting me to dinner if we eat in the same room. And two: I thought you said you weren’t looking for anything?”

“I mean dinner with my friends, gorg. All 11 of us eat together at least once a week, this time we’re gonna crash at Heidi, Jaida and Brita’s. Maybe you wanna come and meet them? I know you and Nicky know each other somehow, so it wouldn’t be too awkward, right?”

“Introducing me to the family already? Ain’t that a bit too early for you, Ms. Sport?”

“More like introducing you to a bunch of kindergartners,” Jan muttered as she checked her phone for any new notifications, “But yeah, I want them to know you as my roommate and friend , not as my roommate who I slept with.”

Bon Voy

dom top: okay so jans sex life aside

dom top: y’all are still coming over tonight?

sin city: yes girl!! college sucks ass sm i need to eat my feelings

c’est bon: wouldn’t miss it for the world mon ami xoxo

cox destroyer: I’m gonna be a little late! I just have to return and borrow some stuff in the library.

human girl: can we please order pizza hut <3

lebron essence hall: no <3

von du for two: we are going to order dominoes like civilized people

human girl: ugh fine, all of you have 0 taste

human girl: crys said yes btw she just has class right now

tap water: aiden said she’s gonna come too, she just can’t message the chat bc she’s still in her shift

Jan grinned at Brita’s message, finally getting the chance to steer the conversation away from her.

backpack backpack: So if she can’t message the chat because of her shift, why’s she messaging you, miss brittany filter?? 👀

Jan can feel Brita’s eye roll from miles away.

tap water: She speaks!

tap water: And don’t act like this conversation isn’t over, Miss Janice Sport. You have a lot of explaining to do.

“So, are ya gonna introduce me as your forbidden, but passionate lover? Whose romance was short-lived, yet wild, fiery and unforgettable?”

Now it was Jan’s turn to let out a cackle as she left Rock’s room, “More like my chaotic mess of a roommate who farted herself awake!”

This time it was Rock’s turn to gasp in offense, “That was one time and you fucking know it! And my answer is yes, by the way!”

Jan sent a message to the chat before grabbing her towel and putting her phone away to take a shower.

backpack backpack: oh btw i’m inviting rock to hang out with us!!! I promise she’s super fun and that we’re just roommates and see y’all soon please dont kill me or make it awkward with rock xxxx

tap water: are you

tap water: kidding me.

von du for two: oh for the love of GOD

***

[too-much-sunshine]

Fangs for the Hospitality

Chapter 2

Summary: After Roman leaves his family reunion mad at Remus, his car breaks down. The huge snow storm forces him into the forest hes always been told to stay away from. Who will he meet? And why are they being so nice? Most importantly, why are his teeth so sharp?

A/N: My self-indulgent magic/vampire fic! Let me know if I need to tag something or you wanna be tagged!

Relationship: Familial DAM, Eventual Roceit, Eventual Intrulogical

Warnings (per chapter): Car trouble, Snow storm, very brief talk of death, anxiety, being cold, vague homophobia, Romans family are dicks, Remus too by accident, cursing, rumors, possible panic attack

Catch up!: Master list, Chapter 1

Word Count: 4547

Read on AO3!

Roman finally lifted his head off the wheel and looked around his car. He made sure to keep a few things in his car that would help him if he ever needed to stay the night in his car. While looking he heard a voice in his head that sounded suspiciously like Remus called him a worry wart. He shook it off and continued looking around.

After a few minutes of searching for a blanket (he swore was in here somewhere), a loud bang rang out from the front of the car. Roman jumped so high he hit his head on the roof of his car.

“The fuck was that!?” He shouted, higher pitched than he's ever willing to admit. “Come oonnn woorrlld are you really going to make me check my engine now?” He pleaded to any god that would listen.

And almost as if they had heard him, smoke started to cloud from under the hood.

Roman yelped and jumped out of the car. Running to the front hood he placed the backside of his hand to the metal to find it blazing hot.

“How the FUCK does a car start on fire in the middle of a FUCKING SNOW STORM!?” He screamed. And then he screamed again just for the hell of it.

At this point Roman couldn't tell if he was crying or if it was just the melted snow running down his face. His hair was ruined, his suit probably was as well. His shoes were full of snow and it was only starting to snow harder as the moments passed.

Roman huffed another hitching breath as he started to look around. There was no way he could stay in his car tonight. With his luck today it might end with it blowing up in the middle of the night... well more later in the night. Though at this point he considered staying just for the possibility of it actually happening.

Looking around, there was no one anywhere. No houses, no lights, he hasn't even seen a person on this road since he left his old house. On one side of the road was a wide open field where he had pulled off too. The other side was a large, dense forest.

As a kid he was warned to stay away from these woods because many people have gotten lost in them. Remus once dared him to go in, to which Roman said no. Then Remus called him lame and ran away to play somewhere else. There were too many spooky stories for Romans liking. And with Roman overactive imagination he stayed far away from here.

Sure the adults told him that the reason told to stay away was because he could get lost. But Remy once told him that it was really because the forest was magic, and that there were witches, werewolves and vampires in there.

And that story was much more fun so that's what Roman chose to believe as a child.

Now Roman didn't really believe in those stories anymore. It was very much more likely that people just got lost in the forest to never be found again. It is a very big forest and is very thick.

Though at the moment Roman wasn't paying much attention to the forest beside him. The young man was not fit for this kind of weather and it was starting to get to him. He was getting very cold and the wind was not helping. He needed to find help soon. He'd call Remy or Remus but his phone was in his jacket pocket, which he forgot back at the house.

Sucking it up, he realized he would have to walk for a bit to find a house. Maybe they would be nice enough to let him use their phone. He picked the direction he had previously been driving toward, and started to walk. He pulled his arms in close to him and kept a quick pace.

It was very cold. The snow was not letting up and he didn't know how long he would have to be walking. Deciding the best strategy was to try and distract himself, Roman started to think of the creatures that might be in the woods.

‘Maybe,’ Roman thought, ‘There really are werewolves and they are actually really nice. Like what if I stumble upon one and they let me use their phone? Wait...would they even have phones? I don't know their life so maybe. What would I even say to them? Just be like ‘why hello my furry looking friend  I seem to be in quite the pickle. Mayhaps you have a phone I could use?’ … No that stupid… They'd probably eat me before then… That's kinda judgmental huh. Maybe they should just eat me. It's not like if I were to actually meet them I could talk to them. I’d be too nervous like I always am with new people… How am I supposed to get home if I even ask for help? Ugg this is dumb…’

Roman kept thinking of random scenarios that might happen if he were to step into the woods. After walking for what felt like an hour, but could have been anywhere from 20 minutes to 3 hours, Roman was freezing cold and shivering violently. The storm was still really bad, but it seemed that the worst had passed.

It also seemed Romans luck was turning around. Roman had spotted a light coming from deep in the forest. It was the only type of man-made thing he had seen in ages so he had no other choice but to step past the threshold, into the thick forest. Before he stepped in he paused and looked in the woods.

He was so cold, and he knew that if he didn't get help soon he was going to freeze.

‘Well,’ He thought, ‘If I die from this, at least it I finally do something cool…’

And with that he stepped into the forest. It was a hard walk. There was no straight path, which distantly Roman thought was odd.

Finally after walking passed a few more trees he emerged on to a great expanse of flat, white snow. Past the flat area, which he realized was a lawn, was an older victorian style house. Much smaller than the mansion Roman grew up in, but much too big to be lining for one person.

Without thinking much, since he couldn't feel his arms or legs anymore, he quickly hobbled up to the door and gave three, light raps.

Roman stood in front of the door, arms around himself barely staying up right. His hair matted down from the snow melting into his hair. But the temperature must have gone up a bit because the snow was starting to turn into a bit of rain.

Roman vaguely realized that the walk through the woods was a lot harsher then he realized. His bowtie was missing and his shirt was barely tucked in anymore. He was a mess. This would never be acceptable dress to meet someone in. He started to shiver more, but possibly for a different reason.

Roman realized that he was still standing on some random porch, in the literal freezing cold and nobody had answered. After a good five minutes more  wait, Roman knocked again, but this time he mustered up the rest of his strength and knocked louder. He the went back to waiting. The edges of his vision were going fizzy around the edges. He wished they would open the door and at least tell him to leave rather than make him wait.

Finally, after Roman was just about to walk back into the woods, the door creaked slowly open.

~~~

“Roman! Remus! My boys you made it here safe and sound! Come in come in!” She ushered the boys who were previously shuffling in the doorway trying to keep out of starting the softly falling snow. “How have you both been? I’ve haven't heard from you both in a while.” Though the question was posed at them both, her focus was directed at Remus, even helping him out of his coat. Roman took his coat off himself and draped it on the rack next to Remus’.

“Fantastic as always!. Had a patient the other day, she had quadruplets! All natural it was crazy to see how big she was, and how many babies were in there. All of them delivered with no complications. Three boys and one girl!” Remus responded walking next to his mom talking animatedly.

“Oh that's just wonderful sweetie! I bet all of them were cute as buttons! That poor mother though, four babies. That will be a handful! And that poor baby girl, growing up with three brothers! You know-”

Roman tuned out their conversation as they walked past the kitchen and staircase. The ballroom was down the straight hall from the greeting room to the left. It took about 5 minutes to actually walk there though.

This place was too big in Romans opinion. Even as a young boy he thought this place was too big. Too much much space to fill, though Remus never seemed to have trouble filling it all up for the both of them. Roman preferred reading, writing, or drawing compared to Remus’ brand of destructive entertainment.

Occasionally Remus and Roman would come together and put on small plays for their mother, father, and staff if they were around at the time. Their mother was never super interested but their father always thought it was the best show he has ever seen. Always praising them both for their hard work.

Sometimes, when Remus was out making a mess and Roman was sat drawing, his father would come in and sit with him. Sometimes watching him draw or quietly reading. Roman enjoyed the shared silence, which he was told was quite odd for a child.

Often when Roman was feeling upset or scared he would run to his dad and just ask him to read to him. Which he always gladly did. He would hold Roman close and just read from whatever was closest. This was actually how Roman found he loved plays. His dad and him might read together sometimes and trade off lines, trying to see who could make the other laugh first. Roman wasn't typically the winner of this game either, but he found he never would mind

Even years later, long after their dad disappeared without so much as a note, Roman looked back at those memories very fondly. He hasn't changed much since he was young. Not talking unless he had something to share. Most called him quite, but he wasn't always. It just took a reason to get him to speak up, and he often found there wasn't much that could do so.

Soon enough Roman was pulled from his memories as they made it to the ballroom where it seems that they were the last to arrive. Most of the immediate and extended family was here, mingling around in their too fancy outfits. If Roman were to guess he would say there was a single item of apparel here that wasn't at least $100, including jewelry. Roman couldn't say much though since he too was wearing a suit. Though he left the jacket at the door and he chose a bowtie over a regular tie.

Nobody made to look their way, except for a few glances. Most were already in the middle of conversation or were looking for someone else that wasn't him. This made it easy for him to be able to slip right past his mother and brother who were still in animated conversation.

Roman made a look around the room to determine the people and, by association, places to avoid. Making a quick glance around the lavish gold gilded room, Roman saw many familiar faces. In the most left corner near the seating area was his grandmother; Gramma Ann. She was a nice woman if you can get past her severely outdated societal norms. Roman had learned more than once that it's best to not talk to her unless he wanted a lesson on proper edicate and questions about his supposedly straight love life.

(It's not that his family didn't know he wasn't straight (they were quite aware after he was caught in the broom closet with the cook's son when he was 16.) It's more like they were hoping he would “change his mind.” Almost like if they never addressed it, it would just go away and he would be “normal.” Or as close to normal as he can be with the way he is.)

That brings him to who is at the centre of the room. His Uncle Dave was probably the person he wanted to avoid the most. He never was really nice to Roman, nor to Remus. For the longest time Roman assumed he just didn't like kids. But even as he grew Uncle Dave still seemed to hate them. It all came to a head when his brother, Romans dad, left without a trace. He used to live with Romans family during the time when he disappeared. For some reason he blamed Roman for it, something that he never fought back on. How did he know that he wasn't? So Roman just took his yelling. Took his screaming about how Roman is the reason because of all of his problems. How he was just too weird and quiet and terrible, and that's why he left.

Roman quickly averted his eyes to the loud laughter that came from his right. By the looks of it Remus had finally dispelled his conversation with their mother and found Remy. He looked the same as he always has; wearing those dark sunglasses inside, and dressed in all black. He said it was to look cool but Remy had told Remus and him one night (After they had heard Remy being yelled at) that he actually wears dark things because he's sensitive to light. He gets migraines from it. They had been sure to keep the lights down around him after that.

(All three boys were proof that having any sort of illness in the family was very much so not appreciated. It meant that the family was not perfect, which was not an option to most.)

The official gossip session has seemed to have started if the amused cackle from Remus meant anything. Soon enough those two would break away and try and cause as much trouble as they can.

Roman kept scanning the crowd for any problem areas and after spotting a few aunts and cousins to avoid, he seemed to find the perfect corner to remain in for as long as possible. Luckily there were a few chairs there as well and they were empty. The only problem was going to be making it there.

Directly in front of it was a small circle consisting of his grandfather on his mothers side, and anyone trying to please him. This grandfather was the reason these parties were as fancy as they were. He paid for everything including the house, though the suit he was wearing was probably worth more than most of the furniture in it. He was a very wealthy CEO of the steel company that he founded when he was 19. He lavished his daughter, Romans mom, in as much of the money as he could. She was his only daughter after all.

He, too, seemed to hate Roman. But then again he also hated Romans dad so it may just be left over hate from their relationship.

He was never as generous with his money to him and Remus as he was with most of the rest of the family. Roman didn't mind much. He has everything he needs, even if his job makes him a bit tight on money sometimes.

A job his grandfather very much so did not like one bit. To be honest it seemed like Roman was the only one who liked his job. Even Remus seemed a bit apprehensive when Roman had brought it up. But it was one of the only things Roman never budged on.

Roman was a writer, stagehand, and sometimes director at a pretty large community theatre in the area. It paid well, but not consistently since it was only a job during shows. Of which there was 4-5 a year. He loved his job, but none of his family seemed to share that mentality.

Roman hoped that if he just kept his head down his grandfather just won't recognize him. Just walk right past him and he will never know. He wouldn't see Roman and he'd be able to stay the rest of this night in the corner. Roman dropped his gaze and started walking at a quick pace. It was a good plan, if one of his aunts had not already had too much to drink.

On his way over to his sacred corner, someone stumbled right into his side pushing him along with her. Roman knew he was in a bit of trouble as he looked up and saw who he bumped into.

Roman immediately started to apologize.

“Oh my gosh I’m so sorry grandpa I-”

“Don't call me that you clumsy brat.” He grumbled interrupting Roman.

“Right...Well sorry either way. Didn't see you there! How have you been? Hows the company?” Roman did want to get out of the situation, but he was nothing if not polite. Too bad the same can't be said for most of the people here. He knew he should just shut up and leave, but he could feel the familiar numb spread of anxiety spreading through his limbs.

“As if you really care. But if you must know, well. Stocks are going down a bit because of those damn foreign factories. If it was up to me, we would take them all out by any means necessary. This is the best country anyway. Not like the world would be missing much.” He declared to the crowd who all laughed and agreed. All except Roman who slowly stepped back from the group. His grandpa seemed to have hit a stride and kept up with his racist speech as Roman continued to back up.

Once he was far enough away he turned and hightailed it to his empty corner, breathing a sigh of relief.

‘Finally,’ Roman thought to himself. ‘Now I can be alone.’

“Hey Roman!” A voice all but yelled into his ear.

Roman would never admit how he jumped about a foot in the air and he spun quickly around. He fully turned to see Remus almost on the floor laughing next to Remy who was at least trying to pretend he wasn't laughing.

“Oh ha ha Remus good job you got me?” Roman deadpaned.

“Oh come on that was so good! You always jump so high when you get scared!” Remus laughed some more wiping a tear from his eye.

“Are you done yet?” Roman said hotly.

“Come on babes let him laugh it up for a while. He's gonna need it after losing so bad to me for another year. What has it been now? Like a 7 year streak?” Remy sarcastically replied.

“Uh, bitch, I don't think so! This year I came prepared!”

“Rems you say that every year.”

“Maybe so but I mean it this year! Watch!” Remus ran off into the crowd laughing. He made a direct beeline for their mother leaving Remy and Roman in the corner together.

“...so...Do you think he actually has a chance this year?” Roman asked Remy, finally sitting in one of the two chairs in the corner.

“Babe, I don't think he even has a good rumor. He's just jelly from all the wins I’ve got.” Remy sighed and sat in the other chair next to Roman.

“I don't know he seemed to think he had a really good one this year.”

“Honey, he thinks he has a good one every year. Last year had to be the worst though. At this point I don’t see why anyone would listen to him, let alone believe a word he says.”

“Well as long as hes having fun here.”

“Well babe you could get in on this too if you want.” Remy lifted his sunglasses a bit to look over Roman.

“Know full well Remington that I can't talk to people let alone tell a convincing lie.”

“Yea yea we've been over it. Social Anxiety is a bitch huh… Well If you need anything you can at least talk to me. I get the struggle in this family.” Remy looked pointedly into Romans eyes.

“Aww does Remy liikkee mmeeeee???” Roman didn't much like the change in tone of the conversion, so he tried to change it back to the light heartedness as it was before.

“Bitch? I would never.” Remy smirked and replaced his sunglasses.

“Yea yea. You know-” Roman started, before a shrill voice cut him off.

“ROMAN ADRIAN JULIUS PRINCE!” A voice pierced through the crowd.

Roman immediately stood up at attention as the crowd parted revealing his mother storming past everyone straight to him. Roman didn't know what he had done wrong this time. But he did know he was kinda upset he didn't even make it halfway through the night yet. Remy stood up, and stood slightly behind him.

“Babes, what did you do?” He whispered.

“I have to clue.” He whispered back, just as his mother stopped right in front of him.

To Romans surprise she did yell at him or push him back right away. She just stood there searching his face. After a tense moment, she seemed to find what she was apparently looking for in his anxious expression, as she broke out into a bright smile. Roman was reeling from such a contrast of emotions going on around him and his own. If her smile wasn't weird enough, she started laughing then wrapped her arms around Roman.

Roman froze. His mother hasn't hugged him since he was very young. He started at the now staring, silent crowd. Slowly he returned the hug, moreso because it was to be expected. Finally she pulled back, but held him at arm's length, hands on his shoulders. Roman found she had tears in her eyes. He's never been more confused in his entire life.

“M-mom what's going on?” He shakily started.

“Roman! Don’t pretend like you don't know! Why didn't you tell you were engaged!” She shouted. The crowd gasped. While Roman took a second to process what she just said.

“I-...I’m not though?” He spoke stuntingly.

“Don't worry honey you don't have to hide it anymore! I know you were worried to tell us because of that one thing that happened...But i'm just glad you finally found what's actually right! You should have brought her with you honey!”

Roman didn't know how to react. She was just so happy with this idea… Should he tell her? Tell her he has absolutely no club what the hell she was talking about? Well...If she wanted him to be engaged...why not let this slide for now…? It's not like she will ever meet anyone he dates anyway. Why not entertain her love for a while.

With his mind made up he finally spoke up.

“W-who told you?”

“So it is true! You didn't deny it! Oh sweetie, I'm so proud of you! Who knew you’d finally do something like this before Remus!”

“Mom.” Roman was starting to feel really small in this very large crowd around him, realizing everyone was still staring. “Who told you this?”

“Why Remus of course! I’m not surprised you told him first, a little disappointed is all but still!”

“Umm. Thank you. You- Umm. Now if you'll excuse me I need to...get a drink!”

“Oh that's perfect! A toast! Everyone grab a drink for my son and his engagement!” She turned to say to everyone.

Roman was starting to breathe a bit faster. He caught his grandfather's eye. He seemed to have done almost a full 180 from how he looked at him before. He had a slight smirk on his face and what seemed to be a bit of proud gleam in his eye. Roman felt a bit sick. Remy disappeared from behind him, probably to get a drink as well.

Maybe he shouldn't have gone along with this idea. Once he found out Remus was involved he knew exactly what was happening. He just wishes he had come up with a less believable lie this year. He should have known once he agreed everyone would be too happy. This was a family of tradition, and to them marrying young was very important. They are probably the most proud of Roman right now then they ever have been or will be.

Someone handed Roman a glass of champagne but he didn't feel it much. His family was cheering for him and they were actually...happy for him. He didn't want this. Not like this. He needed to get out. He needed to run before he started to panic even more. They were happy for him...he didn't want to ruin that by actually being himself.

So he ran.

He ran past his mother. Passed his drunk aunt and uncle who were cheering for him and drinking even more. Right passed his proud looking grandfather. And then right past Remus and Remy who was passing Remus his well earned cash. As Roman passed them he shot Remus a cold glare. Remus went from a gleeful smile holding a new $50 bill, to fear as he watched Roman leave the ballroom.

Once he was out of the room where everyone was watching him, he kept going. He ran past the staircase Remus fell down when he was 7, and he father and him sat on to read Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet. Past the kitchen where Remus stole the cooks still hot cookies, where Roman sat with his father when he taught him how to use chopsticks. And finally out the door, completely forgetting his jacket.

Once outside the cold shocked him into a bit more lucidity. The storm is almost in full force now. Whipping winds and heavy snow. But Roman didn't care. He kept running all the way to his car, which was easy to find since it was the most beat up thing in the lot. He was surprised it even got him and Remus all the way out to the countryside without breaking down.

Roman jumped in the front seat and quickly reached for the key in his pocket. Once he finally grabbed it, he started the car as quickly. He distantly felt bad for booking it as soon as everyone started looking at him, but he just handled it. He could still barely breathe.

He backed his car up and round. Finally he was driving away from the mansion, while pulling his seatbelt on at the same time. Looking in the rearview mirror he caught Remus busting through the front door into the snow, just in time to see Roman turn the corner and out of sight.

~~~

Next Chapter!

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